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The effort was wasted, however, for a cheerful "Good morning, Partner," greeted him, and his cold eye discerned not a slant-eyed Oriental, but a round, pink American face, partly covered with lather, beaming upon him. "My name is Black," continued the new-comer "Andy Black. And yours?" "Hascombe," said Percival, haughtily aware of all that that name stood for in the annals of southern England.
Every fiber of his being shrieked for England and for the revivifying warmth of adulation. His mind dwelt longingly upon Hascombe Hall and the acres of parkland, moorland, and farmland that were its inheritance. Then he thought bitterly upon that paragon of perfection who had caused his banishment. How completely she would have filled the rôle of mistress of that noble hall!
The youngest of the ladies, who wore a bathing-suit of conspicuous hue and did most of the talking, suddenly detached herself from the others and came flying across the sand toward him. "Mr. Hascombe!" she demanded breathlessly, "you'll take me out in the surf-boat, won't you? The boys haven't come, and Mrs. Weston is afraid for me to go alone." "But my dear young lady, it's quite impossible.
In the meanwhile he would devote all his energies to fitting her for the honor about to be conferred upon her, For he had quite given up the idea of the "blossomed bower in dark purple spheres of sea," and had definitely decided to take her back to England as the future mistress of Hascombe Hall. All he asked was six months in which to cut and polish his priceless gem.
I can't see much satisfaction in occupying a pigeon-hole in a girl's heart when, another fellow's got the key to it." The captain, was concerned with something far more serious than Andy's matrimonial failures. "What makes you think it's Hascombe?" he asked. "What makes everybody think so?" asked Andy. "What makes him think so himself?" The captain lost no time in finding Mrs.
And the stars why, Mr. Hascombe's been telling me the most fascinating things I ever heard about stars. We've had a perfectly wonderful time, haven't we, Mr. Hascombe?" "Topping!" said the Honorable Percival. The sea-voyage of thirty days, which in the beginning had threatened to stretch into eternity, now seemed to be racing into the past with a swiftness that was incredible.
Later it became necessary to add the captain's sturdy countenance to his list of exorcising spirits. Now Bobby routed them all, not only taking entire possession of his mind, but actually invading Hascombe Hall, dancing through the gloomy, corridors, and waking the echoes with her youth and merriment.
My beautiful little mistress of Hascombe Hall!" She struggled away from him, and stood at bay. "How can you talk to me like this?" she cried, her voice trembling with indignation, "after what I told you that day in the wind-shelter?" "In the wind-shelter?" He looked at her in bewilderment. "Yea, about Hal Ford and the captain and all that. Why, you promised to help me, and now "
"I'm so sorry!" whispered Bobby, putting her arm impulsively around his heaving shoulders. "I thought we were playing a game. I thought you understood. Please forgive me, Mr. Hascombe! Please! Won't you?" He shook off her arm and stood up. He was whiter than he had been on the night of the accident, but he managed to achieve a smile. "Nothing whatever to forgive, I assure you.
Hascombe, aren't you going to ask me to dance?" It was Bobby who had stopped before him, flushed and breathless. "I don't dance at public balls," he said disapprovingly. "Why not?" asked Bobby, in surprise. "Hardly the thing. A person in my position, you know " "You mean because of the Honorable? How stupid! Let's pretend you aren't one just for to-night!"
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