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"Perhaps if you were to leave us," Ruth suggested, twisting her head to glance at Denry. It was exactly what he desired to do. There could be no doubt that Ruth was supremely a woman of the world. Her tact was faultless. He left them, saying to himself: "Well, here's a go!" In the hall, through an open door, he saw Councillor Cotterill standing against the dining-room mantelpiece.
He had written from London saying that he would be glad if Mr and Mrs Cotterill would "drop in" on this particular evening. Further, he had mentioned that, as be had already had the pleasure of meeting Miss Cotterill, perhaps she would accompany her parents. "Well, he isn't here," said Denry, shaking hands. "He must have missed his train or something. He can't possibly be here now till to-morrow.
Mr and Mrs Cotterill kept it from me, and I should not have heard of it only from something Nellie said. That's why they've gone to-day. The boat doesn't sail till to-morrow afternoon." "Steerage?" and Denry whistled. "Yes," said Ruth. "Nothing but pride, of course.
Cotterill left in the suite of Lord Protocol, and, as he is careful to inform us, in Admiral Yardarm's flagship, one of his chief causes of regret is to leave "that most spirituelle and sympathetic lady, who already regards me as a younger brother." "Nothing like a little judicious levity," says Michael Finsbury in the text: nor can any better excuse be found for the volume in the reader's hand.
"the dark earth beareth in season Barley and wheat, and the trees are laden with fruitage, and alway Yean unfailing the flocks, and the sea gives fish in abundance." Odyssey xix, 109 sq. Translation by H. B. Cotterill.
At one moment you would think him a jolly, bluff fellow, and at the next you would be disconcerted by a note of cunning or of harshness. Mrs Councillor Cotterill was one of these women who fail to live up to the ever-increasing height of their husbands.
Nellie was continually with them, except just before they separated for the night. So that Denry paid consistently for three. But he liked Nellie Cotterill. She blushed so easily, and she so obviously worshipped Ruth and admired himself, and there was a marked vein of common-sense in her ingenuous composition.
In short, nobody could possibly be more superb than they were on that morning in that compartment. The journey was the result of peculiar events. Mr Cotterill had made himself a bankrupt, and cast away the robe of a Town Councillor. He had submitted to the inquisitiveness of the Official Receiver, and to the harsh prying of those rampant baying beasts, his creditors.
"O-o-pen the window," spluttered Mrs Clowes to the attendant. "He's gone off; he'll come to in a minute." She was flattered. Mr Cowlishaw was for ever endeared to Mrs Clowes by this singular proof of her impressiveness. And a woman like that can make the fortune of half a dozen dentists. Arthur Cotterill awoke.
Similarly, the child had not been baptized after his father, or after any male member of either the Machin or the Cotterill family. Why should family names be perpetuated merely because they were family names? A natural human reaction, this, against the excessive sentimentalism of the Victorian era! "What does 'stamped out' mean?" Robert inquired.
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