BUNTING TAKES ADVICE
Jimmy Beckley had come over to spend the day at Abington. He had brought
his sister Vera with him, not altogether without protest. The Grafton
girls, he had explained to her, were always jolly pleased to see him,
and he got on well with all of them; in fact they were topping girls,
and he didn't yet know which of the three he liked best. If he went over
alone he could take his pick, but if she went over with him, one, or
perhaps two of them, would have to do the polite to her. He betted that
they'd rather have him without her. Vera, however, had said that he was
a conceited little monkey, and she was coming. So he had made the best
of it, and being of less adamantine stuff than he liked to represent
himself, he had driven her over in a pony cart, instead of riding, as he
would have done if he had gone alone.
Grafton was in London for the day. Caroline and Vera wanted to talk
together, and the other four played lawn tennis. But after a couple of
sets Beatrix said it was too hot to play any more and went indoors.
Jimmy looked after her with regret. For the moment he judged her to be
the most attractive of all the Grafton girls, and had invented some
amusing things to say to her. It seemed a pity to waste them on
Barbara. He liked her, and she and he and Bunting had had a good deal of
fun together at one time or another. But it had been boy's fun, in which
she had naturally taken a subordinate part, as became one of her sex.
She was hardly old enough to awaken a more tender emotion in his breast.
He was beginning to feel that towards Caroline and Beatrix both, but was
not yet sure which of them he should choose when he came to man's
estate. Beatrix was the prettier of the two, but they were both very
pretty, and Caroline responded rather more to his advances.
Barbara suggested a tournament between the three of them, but the boys
didn't care about that, nor for a three-handed set. Eventually, after a
short rest, and some agreeable conversation, Barbara found herself
shelved, she did not quite know how, and Jimmy and Bunting went off to
the gooseberry bushes; not without advice from Barbara not to make
little pigs of themselves.
"It's a rummy thing," said Jimmy, "that girls of Barbara's age never
quite know how to behave themselves. They think it's funny to be merely
rude. Now neither of us would make a mistake of that sort. I suppose
it's because they haven't knocked about as much as we have. They don't
get their corners rubbed off."
"Oh, Barbara's all right," said Bunting, who respected Jimmy's opinions
but did not like to hear his sisters criticised. "We say things like
that to each other. She didn't mean anything by it. You didn't take it
quite in the right way."
"My dear chap," said Jimmy, "you needn't make excuses. They're not
wanted here. I know how to take a girl of Barbara's age all right. I'm
not saying anything against her either. She's young; that's all that's
the matter with her. In a few years' time any fellow will be pleased to
talk to her, and I shouldn't wonder if she didn't turn out as well worth
taking notice of as Caroline and Beatrix. I say, old chap, I'm sorry to
hear about this business of B's. She seems rather under the weather
about it. But she'll get over it in time, you'll see. There are lots of
fellows left in the world. You won't have her long on your hands, unless
I'm a Dutchman."
"It's rather a bore," said Bunting shortly. He had not known that Jimmy
knew anything about this business of B's, and had not intended to refer
to it. But as he did know, there would be no harm in discussing it with
him. He rather wanted the opinion of another man on the subject. "I
never saw the chap myself," he added. "But if the pater doesn't think
it's good enough, that's enough for me."
"I say, old chap, you must get out of the way of calling your governor
pater," said Jimmy. "It was all right at your private school, but it's a
bit infantile for fellows of our age."
"Well, the Governor then," said Bunting, blushing hotly. "He saw the
chap at the Bank, and told him he wasn't taking any. So the chap went
away."
"What are they like on that bush?" asked Jimmy. "I don't care for this
lot. Was there anything against the fellow? Ah, these are better. Not
enough boodle, or something of that sort?"
"I don't think so," replied Bunting. "He's a rich chap, I think, and a
sort of peer in his own country. 'Course I shouldn't care for one of the
girls to marry a Frenchman myself."
"I haven't got that sort of feeling," said Jimmy. "It's rather _vieux
jeu_. One of my aunts married a Frenchman; they've got a topping villa
at Biarritz and I stayed with them last year. He's plus two at golf, and
hunts and all that sort of thing. Just like one of us."
"I believe this chap is too," said Bunting. "Still if the Governor
didn't care about it, it's enough for me."
"You said that before. You should get out of the way of repeating
yourself, Grafton. It's the girl I'm thinking of. Rather hard luck on
her, if she's in love with the fellow. However, there are lots of other
fellows who'll be quite ready to take it on."
"You said that before. You should get out of the way of repeating
yourself, Beckley."
"One up," admitted Jimmy. "I shouldn't let her mope if I were you. When
girls are in that state they want amusing. She was quite lively at first
this morning, and I was going to try and buck her up a bit after we'd
played a set or two. But she went in before I could get to work. It
comes over them sometimes, you know. I shouldn't wonder if she weren't
having a good blub at this very moment. It takes 'em like that."
"You seem to know a lot about it for a man of your age."
"Well, I do know a bit. I don't mind telling you, Grafton, as we're
pals, and I know it won't go any further, that I was jolly well struck
on a girl last winter. Used to meet her in the hunting-field and all
that. I'm not sure I didn't save her life once. She was going straight
for a fence where there was a harrow lying in the field just the other
side that she couldn't see. I shouted out to her just in time."
"How did you know the harrow was there?"
"'Cos it happened to be on our own place, fortunately, and I remembered
it. 'Course it was nothing that I did, really, but she'd have taken a
nasty toss, I expect, even if she hadn't killed herself. She went quite
white, and thanked me in a way that--well it showed what she thought of
it. I believe if I'd said something then--she--I don't think she'd have
minded."
"Why didn't you?"
"Oh, I don't know. I suppose I wasn't quite ready."
"You're generally ready enough."
"Ah, you don't know how it takes you, Grafton. You wait till your time
comes. That girl could have done anything with me, as long as it kept
on. She came to a ball we had that night, and I'd picked up a bit then.
I'd made up my mind that if I'd done her a good turn I'd get something
for it."
"What did you get?"
"Ah, you want to know too much. But I don't mind telling you that I
danced with her four times, and she chucked over a fellow in his third
year at Oxford for me."
"Was that all you got?"
"No, it wasn't. But I shan't tell you any more. It wouldn't be fair to
the girl. It's all come to an end now, but I'm not going to give her
away."
"Do I know her?"
"I can't tell you that either. You might spot who it was, and that
wouldn't be quite fair to her. Fact of the matter is I rather fancy I
left off before she did. That's the sort of thing girls don't like
having known."
"Why did you leave off?"
"Oh, I don't know. She promised to write to me when I went back to
Eton,--there, I've let that out--and she didn't do it for I don't know
how long. I was rather sick about it, and when she did write I answered
her rather coldly. I thought she'd write again and want to know what the
matter was. But she didn't. That cooled me off, I suppose, and when I
came back this time--well, I found there were other girls I liked
better."
"Oh then you've seen her; so she must live about here. Is it Maggie
Williams? I thought she was rather a pretty kid when she was at your
house the other day."
"Maggie Williams! My dear chap, what are you thinking about? She's an
infant in arms. How could she have come to a dance at our house, and
given me a carnation--there I've let that out. Maggie Williams! Why she
gets ink on her fingers."
"I know she's thirteen because she told me so; and she's your parson's
daughter; I don't see why she shouldn't have come to your ball."
"Well, she didn't anyhow; and I don't go in for baby-snatching. If I
take to a girl she's got to know a bit."
"I don't know all the people about here yet. You might tell me whether
I've seen her."
"No, my son. She wouldn't like it."
"I believe it's all swank. If she's grown up, and she let you kiss her,
I expect it was just because she thought you were only a little boy, and
it didn't matter."
"I never said I did kiss her."
"Well, you must have been an ass if you didn't."
"I didn't say I didn't either. But I don't mind telling you that I'd
arranged a sitting-out place with a bit of mistletoe beforehand."
"You might tell me who it was."
"She's a very fine girl. Rides like a good 'un, and sticks at nothing. I
don't say it's absolutely all over yet. I shall see what I feel about it
next season. I like her best on a horse."
"Is it one of the Pembertons?"
"I've told you I shouldn't tell you who it was."
"Oh then it must be, or you'd have said no. They're all a bit too
ancient for my taste."
"There's a lot of the kid in you still, Grafton. If you call Kate
Pemberton ancient, I pity your taste. Still, if you're inclined to be
gone on Maggie Williams, I dare say you _would_ think Kate Pemberton
ancient."
"You're an ass. I'm not gone on Maggie Williams. I only thought she was
rather a nice kid. Was it really Kate Pemberton, Beckley? She is rather
a topper, now you come to mention it."
"I don't say it is and I don't say it isn't. I say, I think we've made
this bush look rather foolish. I vote we knock off now. How would it be
if we went and routed B out and tried to cheer her up a bit?"
Bunting was doubtful about the expediency of this step, though he
thanked his friend for the kind thought. "I'm leaving her alone a bit
just now," he said. "To tell you the truth I'm not very pleased with
her. She's not behaving very decently to the Governor."
"Well, I must say I rather sympathise with her there," said Jimmy, as
they strolled across the lawn together. "I should always be inclined to
take the girl's side in an affair of this sort. If one of my sisters
ever comes across my Governor in that way, I think I shall back her up.
But they're not so taking as yours; I expect I shall have the whole lot
of them on my hands by and by."
"Oh, I don't think you will," said Bunting politely. "Of course your
Governor is a good deal older than mine. He doesn't make a pal of you
like ours does of us. That's why I don't like the way B is going on. It
worries him. Of course he wouldn't have stopped it at all if he hadn't
a jolly good reason. She ought to see that."
"My dear chap, you can't expect a girl to see anything when she's in
that state. I know what I'm talking about. Give her her head and she'll
come round all right in time."
"Do you think she will?"
"I'm sure of it. You tell your Governor to leave her alone, and pretend
not to notice."
"All right, I will. Shall I say that's the advice of James Beckley,
Esquire? I say, what about a round with a mashie?"
"I'm game," said Jimmy. "Don't you think it would do B good to fish her
out and have a foursome? I'm sorry for that little girl."
"Oh, leave her alone," said Bunting. "Perhaps she'll play after lunch."
"Just as you like, old man. I only thought I might do something to make
her forget her troubles for a bit. My advice to you is to go gently with
her. I'll give you two strokes in eighteen holes and play you for a
bob."