"A shoot," she cried, "I'd love to. But, Tom, you forget I am a rancher's wife, and you know, or at least you don't know, what that means. Run along and play with Jack. Some one must work. No, don't tempt me. I have my programme all laid out. I especially prayed this morning for grace to resist the lure of the outside this day. 'Get thee behind me--' What? I am listening, but Ishouldn't be. What do you say? Tom, it cannot be!" She sat down weakly in a convenient chair and listened to her husband while he retailed her brother's great secret.
"And so, my dear, we are going to begin a big campaign--begin to-day--take the girls off with us for a shoot--what do you say, eh?""Why, certainly, Tom. Give me half an hour to get Martha fairly on the rails, and I am with you. We'll take those dear girls along.
Oh, it is perfectly splendid. Now let me go; that will do, you foolish boy. Oh, yes, how lovely. Trust me to back you up. What?
Don't spoil things. Well, I like that. Didn't I land you? That was 'some job,' as dear Nora would say. You listen to me, Tom.
You had better keep in the background. Finesse is not your forte.
Better leave these things to me. Hurry up now. Oh, I am so excited."Few women can resist an appeal for help from a husband. The acknowledgment of the need of help on the part of the dominating partner is in itself the most subtle flattery and almost always irresistible. No woman can resist the opportunity to join in that most fascinating of all sport--man-hunting. And when the man runs clear into the open wildly seeking not escape from but an opening into the net, this only adds a hazard and a consequent zest to the sport. Her husband's disclosures had aroused in Sybil Waring-Gaunt not so much her sporting instincts, the affair went deeper far than that with her. Beyond anything else in life she desired at that time to bring together the two beings whom, next to her husband, she loved best in the world. From the day that her brother had arrived in the country she had desired this, and more or less aggressively had tried to assist Providence in the ordering of events. But in Kathleen, with all her affection and all her sweet simplicity, there was a certain shy reserve that prevented confidences in the matter of her heart affairs.
"How far has the German got with her? That is what I would like to know," said Mrs. Waring-Gaunt to herself as she hastily prepared for the motor ride. "There's no doubt about him. Every one can see how he stands, and he has such a masterful way with him that it makes one think that everything is settled. If it is there is no chance for Jack, for she is not the changing kind." Meantime she would hope for the best and play the game as best she could.
"Would you mind running into the Gwynnes' as we pass, Tom?" said his wife as they settled themselves in the car. "I have a message for Nora.""Righto!" said her husband, throwing his wife a look which she refused utterly to notice. "But remember you must not be long.
We cannot lose the evening shoot, eh, what?"
"Oh, just a moment will do," said his wife.
At the door Nora greeted them. "Oh, you lucky people--guns and a dog, and a day like this," she cried.
"Come along--lots of room--take my gun," said Mr. Waring-Gaunt.
"Don't tempt me, or I shall come."
"Tell us what is your weakness, Miss Nora," said Jack. "How can we get you to come?""My weakness?" cried the girl eagerly, "you all are, and especially your dear Sweeper dog there." She put her arms around the neck of the beautiful setter, who was frantically struggling to get out to her.
"Sweeper, lucky dog, eh, Jack, what?" said Mr. Waring-Gaunt, with a warm smile of admiration at the wholesome, sun-browned face. "Come along, Miss Nora--back in a short time, eh, what?""Short time?" said Nora. "Not if I go. Not till we can't see the birds.""Can't you come, Nora?" said Mrs. Waring-Gaunt, "I want to talk to you, and we'll drive to-day and let the men shoot. Where is Kathleen? Is she busy?""Busy? We are all positively overwhelmed with work. But, oh, do go away, or I shall certainly run from it all.""I am going in to get your mother to send you both out. Have you had a gun this fall? I don't believe you have," said Mrs. Waring-Gaunt.
"Not once. Yes, once. I had a chance at a hawk that was paying too much attention to our chickens. No, don't go in, Mrs. Waring-Gaunt, I beg of you. Well, go, then; I have fallen shamelessly.
If you can get Kathleen, I am on too."
In a few moments Mrs. Waring-Gaunt returned with Kathleen and her mother. "Your mother says, Nora, that she does not need you a bit, and she insists on your coming, both of you. So be quick.""Oh, Mother," cried the girl in great excitement. "You cannot possibly get along without us. There's the tea for all those men.""Nonsense, Nora, run along. I can do quite well without you.
Larry is coming in early and he will help. Run along, both of you.""But there isn't room for us all," said Kathleen.
"Room? Heaps," said Mr. Waring-Gaunt. "Climb in here beside me, Miss Nora.""Oh, it will be great," said Nora. "Can you really get along, Mother?""Nonsense," said the mother. "You think far too much of yourself.
Get your hat."
"Hat; who wants a hat?" cried the girl, getting in beside Mr. Waring-Gaunt. "Oh, this is more than I had ever dreamed, and Ifeel so wicked!"
"All the better, eh, what?"
"Here, Kathleen," said Mrs. Waring-Gaunt, "here between us.""I am so afraid I shall crowd you," said the girl, her face showing a slight flush.
"Not a bit, my dear; the seat is quite roomy. There, are you comfortable? All right, Tom. Good-bye, Mrs. Gwynne. So good of you to let the girls come."In high spirits they set off, waving their farewell to the mother who stood watching till they had swung out of the lane and on to the main trail.
