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"He's not much worse than I used to be," she said. "I used to call America an uncivilized country, you remember. I suppose I and Mr. Heathcroft were exaggerated types of a certain kind of English. We were English quahaugs, weren't we?" Hephzy nodded. "We're all quahaugs," she declared. "Most of us, anyhow.
He looked in our direction as he said it. Mr. Heathcroft made no sign. He produced a gold cigarette box and extended it in my direction. "Will you?" he inquired. "No, thank you," I replied. "I will smoke a cigar, if you don't mind." He did not appear to mind. He lighted his cigarette, readjusted his monocle, and stared stonily at the gesticulating auctioneer. The bidding went on.
Her ladyship bade us all welcome and was gratified by our acceptance of her invitation. He would now proceed to read the names of those who were to play against each other, stating handicaps and the like. He read accordingly, and I learned that my opponent was to be Mr. Heathcroft, each of us having a handicap of two. Considering everything I thought my particular handicap a stiff one.
"She is my wife now," I said. "Good-by, Mr. Heathcroft." I hurried away before he could do more than gasp. I think I shook even his serene composure at last. I told Hephzy about it as we rode to the hotel in the cab. "It was silly, I suppose," I said. "I told him on the spur of the moment. I imagine all Mayberry, not to mention Burgleston Bogs, will have something to talk about now.
Heathcroft did not enthuse. "Oh," he said dubiously. "A relative of yours, I suppose." "A cousin, that's all." "One's relatives, particularly the feminine relatives, incline toward eccentricity as they grow older, don't you think. I have an aunt down in Sussex, who is queer. A good sort, too, no end of money, a big place and all that, but odd.
She was gracious and affable, although I suspected that much of her affability toward the American visitors was assumed because she wished to please her nephew. A. Carleton Heathcroft, Esquire, was plainly her ladyship's pride and pet. She called him "Carleton, dear," and "Carleton, dear" was, in his aunt's estimation, the model of everything desirable in man.
The first nine went to me. An usually long drive and a lucky putt on the eighth gave me the round by one. I played with care and tried my hardest to keep my mind on the game. Heathcroft was, as always, calm and careful, but between tees he was pleased to be chatty and affable. "And how is the aunt with the odd name, Knowles?" he inquired.
"Have you heard from her?" "Yes," I said, absently. "I must say good-by, Heathcroft. That is the train I have been waiting for." "Oh, is it. Then, au revoir, Knowles. By the way, kindly remember me to your niece when you see her, will you." "I will. But " I could not resist the temptation; "but she isn't my niece," I said. "Oh, I say! What? Not your niece? What is she then?"
'And God bless you! for a good man you have been to me, she sobbed, and then they parted, never to meet again in this world. And that was the end of Gabriel Pendle's romance. At first he thought of going to the South Seas as a missionary, but his father's entreaties that he should avoid so extreme a course prevailed, and in the end he went no further from Beorminster than Heathcroft Vicarage.
But how do you intend to get enough for us to marry on? 'My father has promised me the rectorship of Heathcroft. The present incumbent is old and cannot possibly live long. 'I believe he'll live on just to spite us, grumbled Bell. 'How much is the living worth? 'Six hundred a year; there is also the rectory, you know. 'Well, I daresay we can manage on that, Gabriel.
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