Roger Ingleton, Minor Part 11

"Of that I can't say, Captain Oliphant. To tell you the truth, I never quite understood that appointment. But doubtless the Squire knew best."

"Doubtless. He must have had a very high opinion of him to a.s.sociate him with Mrs Ingleton and me in the guardianship. I take it, by the way, that hardly extends beyond his present duties as tutor."

"That's just it," said Mr Pottinger. "According to the will, he has the right to partic.i.p.ate in every action taken by the other trustees, either as regards the boy, or the estate, or anything else."

"How very singular! You don't mean to say that he is to be consulted in matters of finance or the management of the property?"

"Technically, yes--if he claims it. I imagine, however, he is hardly aware of this, and I am not inclined to urge him to claim it. I should be sorry to give you an unfavourable impression, Captain Oliphant, but I do not like this Mr Armstrong."

"He appears to be well thought of at Maxfield," said the Captain.

"My private opinion is--but you must not let it influence you--that he is somewhat of an adventurer. I know nothing of his antecedents."

"Indeed! not even where he lives?"

"No; the Squire was reticent on the matter. He told me he had good recommendations with him, and that he was an Oxford man."

"Surely that should be satisfactory. I hope we shall find him not difficult to get on with, after all. We shall have to wait a week or so, however, before putting the question to the test, as he has just gone off rather abruptly, and at this particular time rather inopportunely, on a journey, for what object I do not know."

"Humph!" said the attorney. "I do not like mysteries. However, I trust it will be as you say."

Dr Brandram, when presently the Captain called in for his ward, was in by no means a good temper.

"I have been blowing Roger up sky-high," said he, puffing his smoke rather viciously in the Captain's direction, "for behaving like a lunatic. The idea of his coming out and getting himself wet through with this cold upon him."

"Dear, dear!" said the Captain; "has he got wet through? Why, my dear boy, what did I tell you?"

"You shouldn't have let him come," said the doctor bluntly. "He's no business to play tricks with himself."

"Really, doctor," said Roger, laughing and coughing alternately, "I'm not a baby."

"You're worse," said the doctor severely. "Don't let it happen again.

You must go home in a fly; I won't allow you to walk. Armstrong wouldn't have let you do it."

It grated on the Captain's nerves to hear the tutor thus quoted in what seemed to be a reflection on himself.

"Roger, my boy," said he, "you are fortunate to have somebody to look well after you. I quite agree with the doctor; we must drive home. I hope your things are dry."

"He's made me change everything I had on," said Roger.

"Quite right--quite right!"

The doctor took an opportunity before the fly arrived of talking to the Captain seriously about his ward's health.

"He's not robust, you can see that yourself," said he, "and he won't take care of himself, that's equally evident. You must make him do it, or I won't answer for the consequences."

The Captain laughed pleasantly. "My duties grow on me apace," said he.

"I have come over from India to look after his morals, his estate, his education, and now I find I must add to them the oversight of--"

"Of his flannels. Certainly; see they are well aired, that's more important than any of the others. Good-bye!"

The Maxfield household was a dismal one that evening. Mrs Ingleton in distress had prevailed on Roger to go to bed. Miss Rosalind, defrauded in one day of her two allies, sulked in a dignified way in her own room, and visited her displeasure with the world in general on poor Jill, who consoled herself by beginning a letter to her "dear Mr Armstrong."

Tom, having wandered joyously over the whole house, making friends with everybody and admiring everything, was engaged in the feverish occupation of trying to find his stamp alb.u.m, which he had left behind in India.

The only serene member of the party was Captain Oliphant, who in the arm-chair of the library smoked an excellent cigar and ruminated on things at large.

"Poor lad!" said he to himself, "great pity he's so delicate. Not at all a pleasant cough--quite a churchyard tone about it. Tut! tut! I'm not favourably impressed with that doctor; an officious b.u.mpkin, he seems to me. And this Armstrong--I should really like to know a little more about him. Pottinger was decidedly of my way of thinking. Not a nice fellow at all, Armstrong. Wrong sort of companion for Roger. Poor fellow! how he's coughing to-night."

And this kindly soul actually laid down his cigar and went out into the pa.s.sage to listen.

"Shocking cough," said he as he returned and relit his cigar. Then he took out a doc.u.ment from his pocket--a copy of the will, in fact--and read it again. Which done, he relapsed into genial meditation ones more.

Presently his kindly feelings prompted him to pay his ward a visit.

"Well, my boy, how are you? Better, I hope."

"Oh, yes," said Roger, coughing; "it's only a cold in my head. I'll soon be all right. I'm awfully sorry to desert the girls and Tom, tell them."

"Nothing I can do for you, is there?"

"Thanks very much. I'm all right. I shall get to sleep pretty soon.

Good night, Cousin Edward."

"Good night, dear boy. Another time you must take better care of yourself. Remember your life is precious to us all."

With these affectionate words Captain Oliphant left the room, candle in hand. As he pa.s.sed his daughter's boudoir he looked in. It was empty.

The young ladies had long since taken refuge in their bedroom. All the house, in fact, except Captain Oliphant, had done the same.

That gentleman, as he pa.s.sed another door which stood half open, could not resist a friendly impulse to peep in. It was a snug room, with a piano in one corner, and foils, boxing gloves, Oxford prints, and other tokens of a bachelor proprietorship displayed on the walls. The table was littered with cla.s.sical exercises, music scores, and letters. A college boating-jacket hung behind the door, and one or two prize- goblets decorated the mantelpiece.

Captain Oliphant displayed a genial interest in everything. He read the inscriptions on the goblets, glanced casually through the papers, read the addresses on a few of the letters, and generally took stock of the apartment. Of course, like an honourable gentleman, he disturbed nothing, and presently, distressed by a sudden fit of coughing from the direction of his ward's room, he hastily stepped out into the lobby again and made his way back to the library.

Before he went to bed this methodical person committed three several matters to paper. In his memorandum-book he wrote the name of a certain college at Oxford, and a date, corresponding, oddly enough, to the name and date on one of the goblets in Mr Armstrong's room.

That done, he scrawled a post card to Dr Brandram, requesting him to call and see Roger, whose cough was still a little troublesome.

After that, he pulled out of his pocket and read with a somewhat pained expression a letter he had received the day before by the Indian mail.

It was gather long, but the pa.s.sage which pained Captain Oliphant particularly ran thus:--

"The trouble about the mess accounts is not blown over yet. I have done what I can for you. I hope you will make it unnecessary for me to enter into details with the parties chiefly interested in that affair. It depends pretty much on what you are able to tell me, whether I can give you the time you mention in your last. You will consult your own interests best by being quite square," and so on.

The expression which Captain Oliphant mentally applied to the writer as he re-read this pleasant pa.s.sage was not wholly flattering, and his countenance, as I have said, bore traces of considerable pain. However, after a little meditation it cleared somewhat, and he wrote:--

"It seems to me a pity you should take up a position which can only end in trouble all round. You know how things stand, and how impossible it is to hasten matters. At the present moment there seems every probability of my being able to discharge all my accounts--yours among them--considerably earlier than the time first mentioned. It is worth your while, under the circ.u.mstances, reconsidering what, you must allow me to say, is a preposterous claim for interest. Of course, if you charge me for the full term, I have very little inducement to settle up sooner. Turn it over, like a sensible man, and believe me, meanwhile,

"Yours truly,

"E.O.