We Two [198]
interested, for when the discussion had lasted some minutes, Tom went off in the middle of dinner and fetched in two or three bulky books of reference; these were eagerly seized upon, to the entire disregard of the pudding which was allowed to get cold.
Presently the very informal meal was ended by some excellent coffee in the place of the conventional dessert, after which came a hurried dispersion as they were all going to some political meeting at the East End. Cabs were unattainable and, having secured a couple of link-boys, they set off, apparently in excellent spirits.
"Fancy turning out on such a night as this!" said Rose, putting her arm within Erica's. "I am so glad you are not going for now we can really have a cozy talk. I've ever so much to tell you."
Erica looked rather wistfully after the torches and the retreating forms as they made their way down the steps; she was much disappointed at being obliged to miss this particular meeting, but luckily Rose was not in the least likely to find this out for she could not imagine for a moment that any one really cared about missing a political meeting, particularly when it would have involved turning out on such a disagreeable night.
Erica had persuaded Rose to telegraph both to her friends at Sandgale and to her mother to tell of her adventure and to say that she would go on to Sandgale on the Monday. For, unfortunately, the next day was Sunday, and Rose looked so aghast at the very idea of traveling then that Erica could say nothing more though she surmised rightly enough that Mr. Fane-Smith would have preferred even Sunday traveling to a Sunday spent in Luke Raeburn's house. There was evidently, however, no help for it. Rose was there, and there she must stay; all that Erica could do was to keep her as much as might be out of Tom's way, and to beg the others not to discuss any subjects bearing on their anti-religious work; and since there was not the smallest temptation to try to make Rose a convert to secularism, they were all quite willing to avoid such topics.
But, in spite of all her care, Erica failed most provokingly that day. To begin with, Rose pleaded a headache and would not go with her to the early service. Erica was disappointed; but when, on coming home, she found Rose in the dining room comfortably chatting over the fire to Tom, who was evidently in the seventh heaven of happiness, she felt as if she could have shaken them both. By and by she tried to give Tom a hint, which he did not take at all kindly.
"Women never like to see another woman admired," he replied with a sarcastic smile.
"But, Tom," she pleaded, "her father would be so dreadfully angry if he saw the way you go on with her."
"Oh, shut up, do, about her father!" said Tom crossly. "You have crammed him down our throats quite enough."
It was of no use to say more; but she went away feeling sore and ruffled. She was just about to set off with Rose to Charles Osmond's church when the door of the study was hastily opened.
"Have you seen the last 'Longstaff Mercury'?" said Raeburn in the voice which meant that he was worried and much pressed for time.
"It was in here yesterday," said Erica.
"Then, Tom, you must have moved it," said Raeburn sharply. "It's a most provoking thing; I specially wanted to quote from it."
"I've not touched it," said Tom. "It's those servants; they never can leave the papers alone."
He was turning over the contents of a paper rack, evidently not in the best of tempers. Rose sprang forward.
"Let me help," she said with one of her irresistible smiles.
Erica felt more provoked than she would have cared to own. It was very clear that those two would never find anything.
"Look here, Erica," said Raeburn, "do see if it isn't upstairs. Tom is a terrible hand at finding things."
So she searched in every nook and cranny of the house and at last found the torn remains of the paper in the house maid's cupboard. The rest of it had been used for lighting a fire.
Raeburn was a good deal annoyed.
"Surely, my
Presently the very informal meal was ended by some excellent coffee in the place of the conventional dessert, after which came a hurried dispersion as they were all going to some political meeting at the East End. Cabs were unattainable and, having secured a couple of link-boys, they set off, apparently in excellent spirits.
"Fancy turning out on such a night as this!" said Rose, putting her arm within Erica's. "I am so glad you are not going for now we can really have a cozy talk. I've ever so much to tell you."
Erica looked rather wistfully after the torches and the retreating forms as they made their way down the steps; she was much disappointed at being obliged to miss this particular meeting, but luckily Rose was not in the least likely to find this out for she could not imagine for a moment that any one really cared about missing a political meeting, particularly when it would have involved turning out on such a disagreeable night.
Erica had persuaded Rose to telegraph both to her friends at Sandgale and to her mother to tell of her adventure and to say that she would go on to Sandgale on the Monday. For, unfortunately, the next day was Sunday, and Rose looked so aghast at the very idea of traveling then that Erica could say nothing more though she surmised rightly enough that Mr. Fane-Smith would have preferred even Sunday traveling to a Sunday spent in Luke Raeburn's house. There was evidently, however, no help for it. Rose was there, and there she must stay; all that Erica could do was to keep her as much as might be out of Tom's way, and to beg the others not to discuss any subjects bearing on their anti-religious work; and since there was not the smallest temptation to try to make Rose a convert to secularism, they were all quite willing to avoid such topics.
But, in spite of all her care, Erica failed most provokingly that day. To begin with, Rose pleaded a headache and would not go with her to the early service. Erica was disappointed; but when, on coming home, she found Rose in the dining room comfortably chatting over the fire to Tom, who was evidently in the seventh heaven of happiness, she felt as if she could have shaken them both. By and by she tried to give Tom a hint, which he did not take at all kindly.
"Women never like to see another woman admired," he replied with a sarcastic smile.
"But, Tom," she pleaded, "her father would be so dreadfully angry if he saw the way you go on with her."
"Oh, shut up, do, about her father!" said Tom crossly. "You have crammed him down our throats quite enough."
It was of no use to say more; but she went away feeling sore and ruffled. She was just about to set off with Rose to Charles Osmond's church when the door of the study was hastily opened.
"Have you seen the last 'Longstaff Mercury'?" said Raeburn in the voice which meant that he was worried and much pressed for time.
"It was in here yesterday," said Erica.
"Then, Tom, you must have moved it," said Raeburn sharply. "It's a most provoking thing; I specially wanted to quote from it."
"I've not touched it," said Tom. "It's those servants; they never can leave the papers alone."
He was turning over the contents of a paper rack, evidently not in the best of tempers. Rose sprang forward.
"Let me help," she said with one of her irresistible smiles.
Erica felt more provoked than she would have cared to own. It was very clear that those two would never find anything.
"Look here, Erica," said Raeburn, "do see if it isn't upstairs. Tom is a terrible hand at finding things."
So she searched in every nook and cranny of the house and at last found the torn remains of the paper in the house maid's cupboard. The rest of it had been used for lighting a fire.
Raeburn was a good deal annoyed.
"Surely, my