Besides, I want to see Stocks again. That man is the joy of my heart!"
"Lucky beggar!" said the Minister. "Oh, go by all means and enjoy
yourself, while I swelter here for another three weeks over meaningless
telegrams enlivened by the idiot diplomatist. Good-bye and good luck,
and bring the young man to a sense of his own value."
CHAPTER VIII
MR. WRATISLAW'S ADVENT
As the three men went home in the dusk they talked of the day. Lewis
had been in a bad humour, but the company of his friends exorcised the
imp of irritation, and he felt only the mellow gloom of the evening and
the sweet scents of the moor. In such weather he had a trick of walking
with his head high and his nostrils wide, sniffing the air like the wild
ass of the desert with which the metaphorical George had erstwhile
compared him. That young man meanwhile was occupied with his own
reflections. His good nature had been victimized, he had been made to
fetch and carry continually, and the result was that he had scarcely
spoken a word to Miss Wishart. His plans thus early foiled, nothing
remained but to draw the more fortunate Arthur, so in a conspirator's
aside he asked him his verdict. But Arthur refused to speak. "She is
pretty and clever," he said, "and excellent company." And with this his
lips were sealed, and his thoughts went off on his own concerns.
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