“Captain Challoner must be cleverer than I gave him credit for. What is his way?”
“All the same, his way doesn’t seem dishonourable to him. And from his point of view, mind you, if he marries money to save the old place it is a sacrifice. But he doesn’t think of the girl at all.”
Something in her soft voice arrested his attention. He looked at her. Her cheeks were pinker than usual. That, however, might be due to a warm day and exercise.
“Are you cynical about men?” he asked abruptly.
“Come on! Heart-to-heart, Joyce. No skrimshanking!”
“I don’t know many men. I’ve met Captain Challoner. I’ve read about men like him. He’s a type, isn’t he? He might want a girl, either for herself or her money, but he wouldn’t ask himself if he could make her happy and contented, would he?”
Lionel was too busy with his own affairs to throw pebbles at a pal. He professed ignorance. Tom Challoner was a good sort. Any girl would have an easy time with him.
She stopped, smiling pleasantly. Her destination, a small cottage, was reached. Lionel offered to wait for her.
“The mother of five children is in bed with a sixth. I play housemaid and nurse. We shall meet to-night. Father and I dine with you.”
“Yes, I know. Joyce, you must wear your prettiest frock. Have you a very pretty frock?”
Walking on, Lionel remembered that he had asked for her advice, but somehow he had not got it.
That afternoon he rode with the Squire. Father and son were very friendly together, although each shrank from discussion of subjects next his heart. This intercourse, so intimate—up to a point—revealed the Squire in a new light. Really the Squire revealed himself, accepting his boy, at long last, as man and comrade. To his dismay, however, Lionel did not share his feelings about the family heirlooms. Sir Geoffrey approached them warily, sincerely anxious to know where an up-to-date young soldier stood.
“We have some valuable stuff in the old house,” he said.
“The Sir Joshua, for instance. With your consent, my boy, it might be sold.”
“Possibly twenty thousand, if the right people were bidding.”
Lionel whistled. Then he said, tentatively:
“I love the picture, but I’d let it go gladly if the mortgage could be diminished by that big sum, or——”