Then he went to his uncle in his room at the office, and telling him,
what was quite true, that Gladys had written asking for an explanation
of his sudden cessation of their intimacy, requested him, for
everybody's sake, since he had ordered him not to write to her, to
inform her himself of the prohibition he had laid upon his nephew.
This, grimly enough, Mr. Patterson undertook to do, and doubtless did.
And for more than a fortnight Rodney Elmore had quite a dull time.
Then a sequence of events came crowding on him so rapidly that within
a period of some eight-and-forty hours the whole course of his life
was changed.
The sequence began on a certain Saturday morning. Before he was yet
out of his bedroom he was informed that Mr. Austin had called; and,
indeed, the words were hardly spoken before Tom showed himself in.
Rodney was unfeignedly glad to see him. He had always liked Tom,
who was the antipodes of himself; a red-headed, freckle-faced,
simple-minded youth, who was not likely to set the Thames on fire, and
who, in fact, had no desires in that direction. He had "cut" college
for a few days, but had to hurry back by an early train; which
explained the matutinal hour he had chosen for a call. He brought news
that Stella was in town, staying with some people over Kensington way;
and suggested, as he rather thought that Stella found it dullish, that
he should look her up, if possible that very afternoon, and take her
somewhere. Rodney declared that he would be only too glad to have the
chance; he would get away early from the office, and go straight to
her, and would let her have a wire at once to let her know that he was
coming.
Then, when they adjourned to breakfast, a meal at which the visitor
expressed his readiness to assist, Tom volunteered the information
that he had been down to see Mary Carmichael, who was staying with an
aunt at Hove. She was quite well, was Mary, and, if anything, prettier
than ever; and he rather thought that, at last, he had fixed things up
with her. As he said this he flushed a red which was not at all the
same shade as his hair.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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