"I can tell you somebody who is," said Hamilton grimly. "That
unfortunate girl you've been barking at all the morning----"
"Barking at her?" gasped Bones. "Gracious Heavens, I haven't betrayed
my worried condition of mind, dear old thing? I thought I hid it
rather well."
"What on earth are you worried about?" asked Hamilton, and Bones
shrugged.
"Oh, nothing," he said. "Nothing at all. A little fever, dear old
thing, contracted in the service of King--God bless him!--and country."
Hamilton's words had this effect, that he brightened visibly, and for
the rest of the morning was almost normal. His spirits took a quick
downward turn at five minutes to one, when the debonair Mr. Hyane
appeared most unexpectedly.
"I'm afraid you'll think I'm a most awful nuisance, Mr. Tibbetts," he
said, "but there are so many things which I must really talk to my
cousin about--family affairs, you know."
"Don't apologise," said Bones gruffly.
"I shan't keep her beyond the hour," smiled Mr. Hyane. "I realise that
you are a very busy man."
Bones said nothing, and when Marguerite Whitland appeared, he had
gained sufficient control of his emotions to indulge in a feeble jest.
The girl's face was a study at the sight of her cousin. Hamilton, a
disinterested observer, read astonishment, annoyance, and resignation
in the wide-opened eyes. Bones, who prided himself upon a working
knowledge of physiognomy, diagnosed the same symptoms as conveying a
deep admiration combined with the re-awakening of a youthful love.
"Hello, Jackson!" she said coldly. "I didn't expect to see you."
"I told you I would call," he smiled. "I must see you, Marguerite, and
Mr. Tibbetts has been so kind that I am sure he will not mind me----"
"Mr. Tibbetts is not concerned about the manner in which I spend my
lunch hour," she said stiffly, and Bones groaned inwardly.
There was a silence which Hamilton had not the heart to break after the
two had gone, and it was Bones who uttered the first comment.
"That's that," he said, and his voice was so quiet and normal that
Hamilton stared at him in astonishment.
"Let's have lunch," said Bones briskly, and led the way out.
Not even when Miss Whitland came to him that afternoon and asked for
permission to take two days' holiday did his manner change. With a
courtesy entirely free from that extravagance to which she had grown
accustomed, he acceded to her request, and she was on the point of
explaining to him the reason she had so unexpectedly asked for a
vacation, but the memory of his earlier manner checked her.
It was a very simple explanation. Jackson Hyane was a very plausible
man. Marguerite Whitland had heard something of her erratic cousin,
but certainly nothing in his manner supported the more lurid
descriptions of his habits. And Mr. Jackson Hyane had begged her, in
the name of their relationships, to take a trip to Aberdeen to examine
title-deeds which, he explained, would enable her to join with him in
an action of the recovery of valuable Whitland property which was in
danger of going to the Crown, and she had consented.