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Updated: June 23, 2025
And now that Malcourt was so often absent Portlaw was surprised to find how much he missed the veiled authority exercised how dependent on it he had become, how secretly agreeable had been the half-mocking discipline which relieved him of any responsibility except as over-lord of the culinary régime.
"In the west wing of your house preparing to remain indefinitely." "Dear, dear!" exclaimed Malcourt. "What on earth shall we do?" And he peered sideways at Portlaw with his tongue in his cheek. "Do? I don't know. Why the devil did you suggest that they stop at your house?" "Because, William, curious as it may seem, I had a sort of weak-minded curiosity to see my sister once more."
You're one of 'em, Portlaw; I'm several.... Well, if you're going North I'd better begin to get ready." "What have you got to do?" "One or two friends of mine who preside in the Temple of Chance yonder. Oh, don't assume that babyish pout! I've won enough back to keep going for the balance of the time we remain." Portlaw, pleased and relieved, finished his claret.
Portlaw said with that simple self-centred dignity which characterised him in really solemn moments: "Thank God, I'm in an old-line institution and own nothing that can ever pass a dividend!" "Even your hens pay their daily dole," nodded Malcourt, eyeing him. "Certainly.
So they were all there, the irreproachable, the amusing, the inevitable, the intellectual, the good, and the bad, the onduléd, and the scant of hair. And, belonging to one or more of these divisions, Portlaw, Wayward, and Malcourt were there had been there, now, for several weeks, the latter as a guest at the Cardross villa.
"You ought to try; it will be still more difficult later," she observed, backing her horse so that she might inspect her handiwork from the proper point of view. Portlaw looked askance at the sign. It warned people not to shoot, fish, cut trees, dam streams, or build fires under penalty of the law; and was signed, "Alida Ascott." "You didn't have any up before, did you?" he asked innocently.
"By advice of counsel I think I had better not reply, Mr. Portlaw. But I believe that point will be brought out by my lawyers unless" with a brilliant smile "your own counsel sees fit to discuss it." Portlaw was convinced that his hair was stirring under his cap. He was horribly afraid of the law.
"Got to do it," said Hamil cheerfully, offering his hand in adieu. "Don't plead necessity," insisted Portlaw. "You've just landed old man Cardross, and you've got the Richmond parks, and you're going to sting me for more than I'm worth. Why on earth do you cut and run this way?" "No man in his proper senses really knows why he does anything. Seriously, Portlaw, my party is ended "
It seemed to be rather late for that; Hamil's face was already turning a dreadful bluish white under his host's astonished gaze, and as the first chill seized him he rose from the table, reeling. "I I am sorry, Portlaw," he tried to say. "What on earth have you got?" asked Portlaw in a panic; but Hamil could not speak.
Portlaw almost capered with surprise and relief when at breakfast he learned that the Tressilvains had departed. "Oh, everything is coming everybody's way," said Malcourt gaily "like the last chapter of a bally novel the old-fashioned kind, Billy, where Nemesis gets busy with a gun and kind Providence hitches 'em up in ever-after blocks of two.
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