If Murchison had been by himself, he would have politely shelved the invitation. Miss Burton, who took after her English mother, was quite decent and ladylike. The brother was insufferable. Vulgarity, so to speak, oozed from him. He was offensive even in his geniality. In short, he was impossible. But Pomfret took the wind out of his senior's sails. "Sorry we are quite full up this week, but hardly anything on next. Shall we say Monday?" Miss Burton took the matter out of her brother's hands by turning directly to Murchison. "Monday, of course, will suit us. Will it suit you?" she asked him pointedly. Taken by surprise, the unhappy young man could only mutter a reluctant affirmative. A few minutes later they left, pledged to partake of the Burtons' hospitality on the following Monday. When they were safely outside, Murchison spoke severely to his brother officer. "You've let us in for a nice thing. If you had left it to me, I would have got out of that dinner somehow." "But I didn't want to get out of it," replied the unabashed junior. "We knew the brother was pretty bad all along. I don't know that on the whole he is much worse than we imagined. But she's a ripping girl. I want to see more of her." "You silly young ass," growled Murchison; "I believe you've fallen head over ears in love with her." And Pomfret, one of the most mercurial and light-hearted of subalterns, answered quite gravely: "I rather fancy I have. I've never met a girl who appealed to me in quite the same sort of way." CHAPTER III |As a result of his visit to Rosemount, Hugh Murchison was very perturbed in his mind. He blamed himself severely for having been tempted into that rather intimate conversation at the tea-shop. Miss Burton was attractive enough, and lady-like enough, to excuse any man for taking advantage of his obvious opportunities, but he had been a fool to go farther. He ought never to have set his foot in the house of people of whom he knew nothing. It was all Jack Pomfret's fault, he decided hastily. It was his influence, his keen desire to make the girl's acquaintance, that had weighed down his friend's prudence. For, if left to himself, Hugh was quite sure that he would have dallied and dallied till all inclination to call at Rosemount had died down. And Pomfret had owned to being greatly impressed with the fair young chatelaine. He had admitted that he had never met a girl who had appealed to him in quite the same sort of way. In fact, it was easy to see he had fallen desperately in love with her. And Jack was just one of those light-hearted, susceptible sort of chaps who have not an atom of common-sense in their composition, who will obey their impulses, regardless of consequences.