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It would be fun to choose Merrion Lodge for her summer home, first because her uncle would wonder why in the world she took it, and secondly because she had guessed that somebody might be surprised to see her there. So she laid her plan, even as she had played her tricks in the days when she was an odd little girl, and Mr Cholderton, not liking her, had with some justice christened her the Imp.
"I remember old Cholderton very well. He was a starchy old chap, but he knew his subjects. Makes rather heavy reading, I should think, eh?" "Not all of it, not by any means all of it," Neeld assured him. "He doesn't confine himself to business matters." "Still, even old Joe Cholderton's recreations " "He was certainly mainly an observer, but he saw some interesting things and people."
Frowning in a perplexed fashion, he pushed the manuscript aside and twiddled the blue pencil between his fingers. The customs-barrier of which Josiah Cholderton was about to speak had no power to interest him. The story which he had read interested him a good deal; it was an odd little bit of human history, a disastrous turn of human fortunes. Besides, Mr Neeld knew his London.
"Ah, I'd begin to listen if he'd told you," was Iver's cautious comment. "You give us the whole of old Joe Cholderton!" was Lord Southend's final injunction. "Imagine if I did!" thought Neeld, beginning to feel some of the joy of holding a secret. Presently Southend took his leave, saying he had an engagement.
Your interests are affected now, and I have spoken, Mr Tristram or Lord Tristram, as I undoubtedly ought to say." Harry turned to Mr Neeld with a smile and pointed at the leaves of the Journal. "There was something Cholderton didn't know after all," he said. "A third date neither the 18th nor the 24th! Twenty-four hours! Well, I suppose it's enough!"
Sometimes he fell into a sore struggle between curiosity and discretion, having impulses in himself which he forbore to attribute to posterity. He was in just such a fix now so he thought to himself as he perused the manuscript before him. No wonder posterity was to be interested in Cholderton!
I remember exactly how she looked and the very words that Mr Cholderton uses. 'Think of the difference it makes, the enormous difference! she said. Oh, it might have been yesterday, Mr Neeld!" Harry leapt over the window-sill and burst into the room with a laugh. "Oh, you dear silly people, you're at it again!" said he.
He is rather long sometimes, isn't he?" "I've always found the date at the top of the page a convenience in reading myself," said Mr Neeld. "Yes, it tells you just where you are and where Mr Cholderton was." She laughed a little. "Yes, look here, page 365, May 1875, he's at Berlin! An amiable surprise appeared on her face. "Where was he in between?" she asked. "I I suppose he stayed at Berlin."
Mina took another look at him, but he blinked resolutely behind his glasses. "Well, it's just like Mr Cholderton to leave out all the interesting things," she observed resignedly. "Only I wonder why you edit his book if it's like that, you know." "Hello, what's that?" exclaimed Iver, suddenly sitting up in his chair. They heard the sound of a horse's galloping on the road outside.
"Wouldn't you like something of this sort to happen to you?" she asked. No. He was perturbed enough as a spectator; he would not have been himself engaged in the play. "Why isn't everybody here?" she demanded, with a laugh that was again nervous and almost hysterical. "Why isn't Addie Tristram here? Ah, and your old Cholderton?" "Hark, I hear wheels on the road," said Mr Neeld.
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