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He saw himself as a tree, dragged violently out of its native earth rootless and rotten. Poor Duggy! Duggy was as proud and wilful as himself; with more personal ambition however, and less of that easy, sensuous recklessness, that gambler's spirit, which had led his father into such quagmires. Duggy had shown up well these last weeks. He was not a boy to talk, but in acts he had been good.
He looks like somebody in Lohengrin." Falloden laughed, but not agreeably. "You've about hit it! He's a Marmion man. A silly, affected creature half a Pole. His music is an infernal nuisance in college. We shall suppress it and him some day." "What barge is it, Duggy? Are we going there?"
I don't know that I had any right to count upon it." "What else could I do?" said Douglas, trying to laugh, but conscious resenting it of a swelling in the throat. "You could have given a good many more twists to the screw if you'd been a different sort," said his father slowly. "And you're a tough customer, Duggy, to some people. But to me" He paused, beginning again in another tone
But if not He found himself secretly watching his mother, wondering how she would take it all when she really understood what sort of person she would turn out to be in the new life to which they were all helplessly tending. After dinner, he followed his father into the smoking room. "Where is the catalogue of the pictures, father?" "In the library, Duggy, to the right hand of the fire-place.
"Oh, my dear Duggy, never mind. They amuse themselves. They've promised to be good. And they get into mischief in London, directly my back's turned. How nice you look in flannels, dear! Are you going to row this afternoon?" "Well, considering you know that my schools are coming on in a fortnight " said Falloden, exasperated. "It's so annoying of them!" said Lady Laura, sighing.
Falloden threw back his head and laughed, as he and Lord Meyrick pursued the opposite direction. But he said nothing. Meyrick, his junior by two years, who was now his most intimate friend in the Varsity, ventured at last on the remark "Very good-looking! But she was certainly not very civil to you, Duggy!" Falloden flushed hotly. "You think she dislikes me?
The last shoot at Flood shall be a good one! The keeper tells me the birds are splendid!" Lady Laura's lips trembled. "You forget what Duggy and I shall be feeling all the time, Arthur. It's very hard on us." "No nonsense!" The voice was good-humouredly impatient. "Take it calmly, dear. What do places matter? Come to the Andes with me.
"Well, thank God, I've got you in!" said Falloden gloomily, as he shut the door behind the last of them. "How Duggy does hustle us! I've had nothing of a tea!" said Roger, looking resentfully, his mouth full of cake, at his elder brother, who was already beginning to take out his watch, to bid his mother and sisters resume their discarded jackets, and to send a scout for a four-wheeler.
"She can't come. Her aunt has made another engagement for her. You'll meet her at the boats." Lady Laura looked relieved. "Well then, we can go straight to our tea. But of course I wrote. I always do what you tell me, Duggy. Come along, children!" "Trix and I got a packet of Banbury cakes at Didcot," reported Roger, in triumph, showing a greasy paper. "But we've eat 'em all."
He seemed to walk uncertainly, and he stooped a great deal. From the hall outside, he looked back at his son. "I think I shall see M'Clintock next time I'm in town, Duggy. I've had some queer pains across my chest lately." "Indigestion?" said Douglas. His tone was casual. "Perhaps. Oh, they're nothing. But it's best to take things in time."
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