Beaumont sauntered on to the lawn with his everlasting cigarette between his lips, but threw it away as he was hailed joyously by Reginald and the four players, who paused for a moment in the game.
"How do you do, Miss Larcher?" said Beaumont, lazily raising his hat, "this is a comprehensive greeting, and includes everybody. I've called to see the vicar."
"Papa's out just now," observed Pumpkin, "but he will be back soon. Will you wait, Mr. Beaumont?"
"Thank you--I will," answered Beaumont, sitting down on a garden bench.
"Have a game?" cried Reginald, flinging his racquet into the air and catching it dexterously in his hand.
"Then have some tea," suggested Pumpkin persuasively.
"Ah, that is better, Miss Larcher," replied Beaumont gaily; "yes, I should like some tea."
"Bring it out here," said Dick, who had thrown himself down on the soft green grass, "it will be jolly having a spread outside."
"How you do misuse the Queen's English," murmured Mr. Priggs as Miss Larcher went inside to order the tea.
"Only in prose," retorted Dick coolly, "think how you mutilate it in poetry."
"I'm afraid you're rather severe on Priggs," said Beaumont, who was anxious to conciliate everyone, even the poet, for whom he had a profound contempt.
"You wouldn't say so if you saw his poetry," replied Pemberton laughing.
"Oh, come now, Dick," said Reginald lightly, "that's rather hard--some of Ferdinand's poetry is beautiful."
"Dick cares for nothing but music-hall songs," explained the poetic Ferdinand loftily.
"Oh yes, I do--for cake and tea, among other things, and here it comes. Make a rhyme on it, Ferdy."
"Don't call me Ferdy," said Priggs sharply.
"Then Birdie," observed Dick, in a teasing tone, "though you're more like an owl than any other bird."
"Now don't fight," said Pumpkin, who was now seated in front of a rustic table on which the tea-things were set out. "Milk and sugar, Mr. Beaumont?"
"Both, thank you," said Beaumont, bending forward. "By-the-way, I saw Miss Challoner to-day--we were talking about you, Blake."
"Were you indeed?" observed Reginald, rather irritated at the free and easy manner of the speaker.
"Yes--about your voice. I got a letter from a friend of mine in Town, of which I will tell you later on."