Salthaven Part 37

"And Trimblett is such a good chap," continued Mr. Vyner. "He is so sensible for his age."

He paused expectantly, but nothing happened.

"So bright and cheerful," he explained.

Miss Hartley still remaining silent, he broke off and sat watching her quietly. To his eyes she seemed more charming than ever. There was a defiant look in her eyes, and a half-smile trembled round the corners of her mouth. He changed his seat for one nearer to hers, and leaning forward eyed her gravely. Her colour deepened and she breathed quickly.

"Don't-don't you think Captain Trimblett is lucky?" she inquired, with an attempt at audacity.

Mr. Vyner pondered. "No," he said at last.

Miss Hartley caught her breath.

"How rude!" she said, after a pause, lowering her eyes.

"No, it isn't," said Robert.

"Really!" remonstrated Miss Hartley.

"I think that I am luckier than he is," said Robert, in a low voice. "At least, I hope so. Shall I tell you why?"

"No," said Joan, quickly.

Mr. Vyner moistened his lips.

"Perhaps you know," he said, unsteadily.

Joan made no reply.

"You do know," said Robert.

Miss Hartley looked up with a sudden, careless laugh.

"It sounds like a conundrum," she said, gayly. "But it doesn't matter. I hope you will be lucky."

"I intend to be," said Robert.

"My hus-husband," said Joan, going very red, "would probably use the word 'fate' instead of 'luck.'"

"It is a favourite word of my wife's," said Robert gravely. "Ah, what a couple they would have made!"

"Who?" inquired Joan, eying him in bewilderment.

"My wife and your husband," said Robert. "I believe they were made for each other."

Miss Hartley retreated in good order. "I think you are talking nonsense," she said, with some dignity.

"Yes," said Robert, with a smile. "Ground-bait."

"What?" said Joan, in a startled voice.

"Ground-bait."

Miss Hartley made an appeal to his better feelings. "You are making my head ache," she said, pathetically. "I'm sure I don't know what you are talking about."

Mr. Vyner apologized, remarking that it was a common fault of young husbands to talk too much about their wives, and added, as an interesting fact, that he had only been married that afternoon. Miss Hartley turned a deaf ear.

He spread a little ground-bait-of a different kind-before Hartley during the next few days, and in a short time had arrived at a pretty accurate idea of the state of affairs. It was hazy and lacking in detail, but it was sufficient to make him give Laurel Lodge a wide berth for the time being, and to work still harder for that share in the firm which he had always been given to understand would be his. In the meantime he felt that Joan's marriage de convenance was a comfortable arrangement for all parties concerned.

This was still his view of it as he sat in his office one afternoon about a couple of months after Captain Trimblett's departure. He had met Miss Hartley in the street the day before, and, with all due regard to appearances, he could not help thinking that she had been somewhat unnecessarily demure. In return she had gone away with three crushed fingers and a colour that was only partially due to exercise. He was leaning back in his chair thinking it over when his father entered.

"Busy?" inquired John Vyner.

"Frightfully," said his son, unclasping his hands from the back of his head.

"I have just been speaking to Hartley," said the senior partner, watching him keenly. "I had a letter this morning from the Trimblett family."

"Eh?" said his son, staring.

"From the eldest child-a girl named Jessie," replied the other. "It appears that a distant cousin who has been in charge of them has died suddenly, and she is rather at a loss what to do. She wrote to me about sending the captain's pay to her."

"Yes," said his son, nodding; "but what has Hartley got to do with it?"

"Do with it?" repeated Mr. Vyner in surprised tones. "I take it that he is in a way their grandfather."

"Gran-" began his son, and sat gasping. "Yes, of course," he said, presently, "of course. I hadn't thought of that. Of course."

"From his manner at first Hartley appeared to have forgotten it too,"

said Mr. Vyner, "but he soon saw with me that the children ought not to be left alone. The eldest is only seventeen."

Robert tried to collect his thoughts. "Yes," he said, slowly.

"He has arranged for them to come and live with him," continued Mr.

Vyner.

The upper part of his son's body disappeared with startling suddenness over the arm of his chair and a hand began groping blindly in search of a fallen pen. A dangerous rush of blood to the head was perceptible as he regained the perpendicular.

"Was-was Hartley agreeable to that?" he inquired, steadying his voice.

His father drew himself up in his chair. "Certainly," he said, stiffly; "he fell in with the suggestion at once. It ought to have occurred to him first. Besides the relationship, he and Trimblett are old friends.

The captain is an old servant of the firm and his children must be looked after; they couldn't be left alone in London."

"It's a splendid idea," said Robert-"splendid. By far the best thing that you could have done."

"I have told him to write to the girl to-night," said Mr. Vyner. "He is not sure that she knows of her father's second marriage. And I have told him to take a day or two off next week and go up to town and fetch them.

It will be a little holiday for him."

"Quite a change for him," agreed Robert. Conscious of his father's scrutiny, his face was absolutely unmoved and his voice easy. "How many children are there?"