Part 26 (2/2)
I said, ”that is his particular subject. He is a most fluent speaker, and loves speaking in public, nothing will delight him more.”
”I'll ask him at once,” said she.
This was as foundationless a fairy-tale as was ever spun, for Ernest could not say two words in public upon any occasion. That he was usually tendered a dinner and was called upon to make a speech, he considered the drawback of wresting any athletic honours. Whether women were in politics or the wash-house was a sociological abstrusity beyond his line of thought, and not though it cost him all his fortune to refuse could he have decently addressed any a.s.sociation even on beloved sporting matters. Hence his consternation when Miss Grosvenor approached him. At first he was nonplussed, and next thing, taking it as a joke on my part, was highly amused. Miss Grosvenor, on her side, thought he was joking, with the result that there was the liveliest and most laughable conversation between them.
Dawn did not know the reason of it. She could only see that Ernest and Miss Grosvenor were engrossed, and at first curious, a little later she was annoyed with the former.
”I think,” she whispered to me, ”it's Mr Ernest you'll have to see doesn't flirt with every girl he comes across.”
”Perhaps he isn't flirting,” I coolly replied.
”Not _now_, perhaps,” she said pointedly; ”perhaps he's in earnest with one and practises with others.”
Arrived at the hall, we found the women swarming around Walker like bees.
”Good Lord! Look what Les. has let himself in for,” laughed Ernest; ”I wouldn't stand in his shoes for a tenner.”
”Go on! Surely you too are partial to ladies?”
”Yes; but--”
”But there must be reason in everythink,” I quoted. He laughed.
”Yes; and reason in this sort of thing to suit my taste would be a small medium. But what a fine old sport the old dame Clay would have made--no danger of her not standing up to a mauling or baulking at any of her fences, eh?”
Dawn would not look at Ernest after the meeting and deputation came to an end, but walked home with ”Dora” Eweword, laughing and talking in ostentatious enjoyment; while Ernest and the Grosvenor girl were none the less entertained.
”'Pon my soul, I couldn't make a speech to save my life,” he reiterated. ”My friend only laid you on for a lark, did you not?” he said, turning to me, whom he gallantly insisted upon supporting on his arm--that splendid arm in which the muscles could expand till they were like iron bands.
”Don't you believe him, Miss Grosvenor,” I replied; ”he's a born orator, but is unaccountably lazy and vain, and only wants to be pressed; insist upon his speaking, he's longing to do so.” And then his merry protesting laugh, and the girl's equally happy, rang out on the crisp starlight air, as they went over and over the same ground.
As we neared Clay's I suggested that he should see Miss Grosvenor home, while I attached myself to Dawn and ”Dora”; and I invited him to come and sing some songs with us afterwards, for the night was yet young.
To this he agreed, and supposed to be with the other young couple, I slipped behind, and could hear their conversation as they progressed.
”You're not struck on that red-headed mug, are you?” said Eweword, for general though political talk had become, there was still another branch of politics more vitally interesting to some of the electors.
”I'm not the style to be struck on a fellow that doesn't care for me.”
”But he does!”
”Looks like it, doesn't it?” she said sarcastically.
”Yes, it does, or what would he be hanging around here so long for?”
”Perhaps to see Ada Grosvenor; I suppose she'd have him, red hair and all.”
”Pooh! he never goes there; but he comes to your place though, too deuced often for my pleasure.”
”He comes to see the boarder--he's a great friend of hers.”
<script>