Fantasy fiction; Humorous stories; Jinn -- Fiction; Soldiers -- Fiction; World War, 1914-1918 -- Fiction
When at last he returned to retrieve his top-hat and to take his leave,
he was jubilant. In the past he had been diffident; but gradually his
confidence in himself and his new powers had grown, until now he was
triumphantly sure of himself. Nothing, he felt, could stand in the
way of such a man as he had shown himself to be. Immense riches, in
themselves, need lead a man nowhere; but immense riches combined with
social success--who could resist them? He had been accepted by these
people as an equal and a friend; from that to being accepted by Isobel
as a lover seemed to his excited brain only a step.
In the veranda stood Isobel herself, talking to her father and another
man. With a slight throb of misgiving Alf recognized Lieutenant
Allen. In his usual diffident frame of mind, he would have avoided
an unnecessary meeting with his old platoon-commander; but now,
intoxicated as he was by success, he greeted a spice of risk. He
approached the group. Both Isobel and Allen looked excited--Alf had
never seen his lady look so desirable, or felt her so approachable.
"'Ow do, Allen?" he said with such an air of jaunty familiarity that
the others stared at him in sheer surprise. "Pleased to see you again,
I'm sure. Well, I ought to be toddlin' off. Never 'ad such a time since
I don't know when. But you'll be sure an' bring Miss Is--Miss FitzPeter
round an' 'ave a bit o' something to eat an' a look round the 'ouse,
won't you, sir? 'Ow about to-morrow?"
Sir Edward, still overflowing with loving kindness towards his
neighbor, and having decided that, come what might, he must keep the
bowls, beamed on him.
"Don't go, Mr. Wentworth," he said.
His daughter looked up sharply and shook her head; Mr. Wentworth was
all very well in his way, but she wanted him on her hands no longer,
now that Denis had returned. But her father did not notice her little
pantomime and blundered genially on.
"Those boys have monopolized you so that I've seen nothing of you. Stay
to dinner, won't you, and afterward--if you'd be so kind--I'll get your
expert opinion on a small article I'm writing on Eastern dress and
architecture."
In his joy at the first part of this invitation, Alf hardly listened to
the second; but his sense of propriety intervened for a moment.
"But I didn't ought ... these clothes...." he began.
"Oh, never mind. You'll do splendidly as you are, eh, Iso?"
Thus appealed to, Isobel had only one course open to her.
"Do stay, Mr. Wentworth," she said perfunctorily.
"Delighted, I'm sure," said Alf gallantly. His heart glowed. Here was a
wonderful opportunity. If only he could get rid of Allen, and make some
real impression on Isobel ... how could he get rid of Allen ...?
This question occupied him as he went with them to explore a tangled
wilderness in a part of the garden he had not yet seen. If only he
could tip the wink to Isobel, it ought to be easy for them to slip away
from the intrusive Allen ... could he?
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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