VI
Torquil did not appear at the breakfast-table on the following morning. Kate was not surprised, for experience had taught her that when a man went bosky to bed he awoke with a splitting headache, and a general feeling of being quite out of curl. When Lady Broome apologized, rather stiffly, for the incident, she replied, with her engaging twinkle: 'He was in very merry pin, wasn't he, ma'am? No need to ask you in what sort of cue he is this morning!' She saw that her aunt was staring at her, and added: 'No need to beg my pardon either! I have frequently seen men in their altitudes, as the saying is. He wasn't more than half-sprung, you know!'
'No,' agreed her ladyship slowly. 'He wasn't, was he?' She smiled, and said: 'I daresay it is unnecessary for me to warn you not to mention the matter to him?'
'Quite unnecessary, dear aunt!' Kate assured her. 'I don't suppose he will retain the least recollection of it!'
This, when Torquil rejoined the family circle before dinner, was seen to be true. He was lethargic, and his eyes, which had shone with such unearthly brilliance, were a little clouded. But he smiled sleepily at Kate, and seemed to be in an unusually docile mood, and with no remembrance of anything that had happened after dinner on the previous evening. Trying to recollect, he frowned, and gave his head a little shake, as though in an attempt to shake off the mists in his brain. Before he could succeed in doing so, Sir Timothy, who had been watching him in what seemed to Kate to be disproportionate anxiety, rose shakily from his chair, muttering: 'I am unwell. I must go to my own rooms. Give me your arm, one of you!'
A footman was instantly at his side, but was ousted by Dr Delabole, who said soothingly: 'Lean on me, sir! That's the way! You will soon be better - soon be better!'
Torquil had dragged himself to his feet, looking bewildered, but Lady Broome, who had not left her seat, said, without emotion: 'Sit down, my son! You can do nothing to help him: it is not serious! He has been in a poor way all day, thanks to last night's party, but he would come to dinner!'
She smiled consolingly, and her optimism was soon justified by the return of the doctor, who said, as he resumed his seat at the table, and picked up his knife and fork again, that it was a mere faintness: he had given Sir Timothy a restorative, and had left him in charge of his valet.
The evening surpassed in dullness all that had gone before it. Lady Broome was abstracted, and Torquil sleepy, and it was left to Dr Delabole to provide entertainment for Kate. He did this by challenging her to a game of cribbage. He said gaily that he was no match for her at backgammon, or piquet, but that he fancied himself to be a bit of a dab at cribbage. He enlivened the game with a constant flow of persiflage, and Kate could only be thankful when her aunt broke up the party soon after the tea-tray had been brought in.
Nothing occurred that night to disturb her rest, but on the following morning the doctor reported that Torquil was a trifle out of sorts, so she was deprived of her daily ride. As though to make up for this, Lady Broome took her out in her barouche, to visit the indigent sick, an unexciting occupation which made her think longingly of a busier if less comfortable life. She found herself wondering how long it would be before she could bring her visit to an end, but it was evident that Lady Broome had no idea of her leaving Staplewood until the autumn, and no suspicion that she might be bored there. Kate had begun to realize that her aunt had very little imagination: she was not herself bored at Staplewood, and could not understand how anyone (least of all an impoverished niece) could wish to be otherwhere. She had surrounded Kate with every luxury; she had clothed her expensively; she had bestowed gifts upon her; and while she brushed off any expressions of gratitude she did expect, perhaps unconsciously, that Kate should repay her with a grateful
Torquil did not appear at the breakfast-table on the following morning. Kate was not surprised, for experience had taught her that when a man went bosky to bed he awoke with a splitting headache, and a general feeling of being quite out of curl. When Lady Broome apologized, rather stiffly, for the incident, she replied, with her engaging twinkle: 'He was in very merry pin, wasn't he, ma'am? No need to ask you in what sort of cue he is this morning!' She saw that her aunt was staring at her, and added: 'No need to beg my pardon either! I have frequently seen men in their altitudes, as the saying is. He wasn't more than half-sprung, you know!'
'No,' agreed her ladyship slowly. 'He wasn't, was he?' She smiled, and said: 'I daresay it is unnecessary for me to warn you not to mention the matter to him?'
'Quite unnecessary, dear aunt!' Kate assured her. 'I don't suppose he will retain the least recollection of it!'
This, when Torquil rejoined the family circle before dinner, was seen to be true. He was lethargic, and his eyes, which had shone with such unearthly brilliance, were a little clouded. But he smiled sleepily at Kate, and seemed to be in an unusually docile mood, and with no remembrance of anything that had happened after dinner on the previous evening. Trying to recollect, he frowned, and gave his head a little shake, as though in an attempt to shake off the mists in his brain. Before he could succeed in doing so, Sir Timothy, who had been watching him in what seemed to Kate to be disproportionate anxiety, rose shakily from his chair, muttering: 'I am unwell. I must go to my own rooms. Give me your arm, one of you!'
A footman was instantly at his side, but was ousted by Dr Delabole, who said soothingly: 'Lean on me, sir! That's the way! You will soon be better - soon be better!'
Torquil had dragged himself to his feet, looking bewildered, but Lady Broome, who had not left her seat, said, without emotion: 'Sit down, my son! You can do nothing to help him: it is not serious! He has been in a poor way all day, thanks to last night's party, but he would come to dinner!'
She smiled consolingly, and her optimism was soon justified by the return of the doctor, who said, as he resumed his seat at the table, and picked up his knife and fork again, that it was a mere faintness: he had given Sir Timothy a restorative, and had left him in charge of his valet.
The evening surpassed in dullness all that had gone before it. Lady Broome was abstracted, and Torquil sleepy, and it was left to Dr Delabole to provide entertainment for Kate. He did this by challenging her to a game of cribbage. He said gaily that he was no match for her at backgammon, or piquet, but that he fancied himself to be a bit of a dab at cribbage. He enlivened the game with a constant flow of persiflage, and Kate could only be thankful when her aunt broke up the party soon after the tea-tray had been brought in.
Nothing occurred that night to disturb her rest, but on the following morning the doctor reported that Torquil was a trifle out of sorts, so she was deprived of her daily ride. As though to make up for this, Lady Broome took her out in her barouche, to visit the indigent sick, an unexciting occupation which made her think longingly of a busier if less comfortable life. She found herself wondering how long it would be before she could bring her visit to an end, but it was evident that Lady Broome had no idea of her leaving Staplewood until the autumn, and no suspicion that she might be bored there. Kate had begun to realize that her aunt had very little imagination: she was not herself bored at Staplewood, and could not understand how anyone (least of all an impoverished niece) could wish to be otherwhere. She had surrounded Kate with every luxury; she had clothed her expensively; she had bestowed gifts upon her; and while she brushed off any expressions of gratitude she did expect, perhaps unconsciously, that Kate should repay her with a grateful
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