After a word of greeting to Mortimer Shelton, she drew back into her room; while the men, laughing and chatting, pa.s.sed into the great hall, where they found Lord Barminster awaiting them. His stern face softened into a welcome, as, with outstretched hand, he came forward to greet his guests.

"Ah, Shelton!" he said, "so you keep my boy company, and you, Paxhorn and Standon. Gentlemen, you are welcome--though there's no need to remind you of that, I know. Adrien," turning to his son, "you have a fine day, did you drive or ride?"

"We motored down, sir," answered the young man, in his soft, melodious voice.

His father frowned slightly. He heartily detested all modern innovations, and would never hold that motors--or, indeed, any increased facilities for travelling--were improvements. "They breed discontent, sir," he would declaim vigorously. "In my young days people were content to stay in the place in which they had been born, and do their duty.

Now, forsooth, they must see this country and that, and visit a dozen places in the year, where their grandparents visited one. Anything for an excuse to fritter away their hard-earned savings!"

On this occasion, however, he made no comment, but turned to Mortimer Shelton.

"You'll find the roads here better suited for horses than for oil-cans,"

he said grimly. "We are primitive, as you know."

Shelton laughed; but he knew his host's ideas on this subject, and was apt to respect them.

"So much the better, sir," he said in a cheerful tone; "I am a bit tired of the smell of petrol myself. Give me Nature without a corset."

"You'll certainly get that here," Lord Barminster replied, favouring his young guest with an approving glance.

Shortly afterwards, they made their way to the morning-room. Here, luncheon had been laid, and Lord Barminster, Miss Penelope, with Lady Constance, were awaiting them. The little party sat down to table, each one secretly only too ready for the meal; for the ride through the fresh, country air had been a fairly long one.

"I was really hungry, Constance," Adrien said, with his low, careless laugh. "There must be magic in the air of Barminster."

"Yet still you come here so seldom," returned his cousin gently.

"Business and the cares of State," quoted Adrien, with a smile. "But I might retaliate. Why do we not see you up in town? Society misses one of its brightest stars."

Lady Constance toyed idly with the grapes on her plate; then she looked up.

"Society has many brighter lights than I, Adrien," she said quietly.

"But now, tell me about the race--auntie is terribly anxious over it; are you not, dear?"

"Yes, my love," returned Miss Penelope, who, in reality, hardly knew one horse from another.

"Oh, Adrien always wins," put in Lord Standon. "That's a foregone conclusion. Have you seen the 'King' lately, Lady Constance?"

"Oh, yes," she replied, "He is exercised in the paddock every morning, and is in fine form."

Adrien smiled.

"Poor 'King Cole'; he'll be worth his weight in gold if he wins to-morrow! What about the other horses, Stan; are they down?"

"Yes," replied Lord Standon; "my man saw some of them at the station; but no sign of the Yorkshire chestnut."

"So much the better," said Adrien; "perhaps his owner has thought discretion the better part of valour and withdrawn him."

The conversation then flowed into other channels; Paxhorn provoking roars of merriment by his stories and epigrams. Presently the ladies withdrew; Lady Constance to prepare for a ride with Adrien, which he had just suggested, and Miss Penelope to rest her "nerves."

While waiting for his cousin to rejoin him Adrien crossed over to the window, which commanded a view of the Castle entrance, and stood gazing idly down. Outside stood a smart motor, and from it was alighting the trim figure of Jasper Vermont.

"By Jove!" he exclaimed, "I had forgotten Jasper."

He tapped at the window, and waved his hand in affectionate greeting to his friend, who looked up with his most amiable smile, as he brushed aside the servants who had hurried out to meet him.

There are people who are served well from sheer force of personality, and who, though neither generous nor unselfish themselves, yet contrive to abstract the very essence of these qualities from those around them; and of these Jasper Vermont was one. His tips were few, though he was lavish in smiles and honeyed words; yet not one of the retinue of servants at Barminster Castle but would fly to attend to his wants, as they would those of Adrien or Lord Barminster himself.

A few minutes later he strolled into the room where the rest of the guests were seated. As he did so Lord Barminster involuntarily drew himself up with a slight frown. He had hoped that the "adventurer," as he invariably termed him, would remain in town and not thrust his unwelcome presence upon the guests at the Castle. But, in another minute, his natural courtesy rea.s.serted itself; and, though it was patent to the least observant that the new arrival was not as welcome as he might have been, he answered Jasper's amiable inquiry as to his health politely enough.

"Thank you, Mr. Vermont," he said grimly, "I am quite well. But you, I fear, are an invalid."

His sharp eyes glanced towards the closed motor, which was gliding round the bend of the drive.

"No, sir, I am quite well, I a.s.sure you," Jasper replied, meekly, as if unconscious of any irony.

"But I have learned enough wisdom to feel convinced that all journeys, including that of life itself, should be taken as comfortably as possible. I prefer, therefore, to have the dust and smell outside the car instead of in. Am I not right?"

"Perfectly," returned his opponent, with a sarcastic smile; "you should surely know your own const.i.tution best. It was an unfortunate error on my part."

At this moment, Adrien, who had been listening to the point-and-thrust conversation, exceedingly ill at ease, intervened, and under some pretext drew his father out with him into the corridor.

"I do detest that fellow so," said the old man apologetically, as though ashamed at having displayed his feelings.

"It's a pity, sir," returned Adrien, respectfully; for his father was the only person who dared say a word in disfavour of his friend. "He takes any amount of pains to save me trouble."

"Well, it pays him," retorted Lord Barminster dryly; then with a wave of the hand as if to dismiss an unpleasant subject, he added, "You're off to the stables, I suppose?"

"Yes, sir," replied Adrien, "I want to have a look at 'King Cole.'" With a friendly nod, he ran lightly down the wide oak staircase and disappeared in the direction of the stables.

For a few moments Lord Barminster stood gazing after him, his stern face relaxed, his keen eyes softened. Adrien was more to him than all his possessions, which were vast enough to have provided for a dozen sons.

Therefore, he denied him nothing, however extravagant or reckless in price, and refrained from any comment on his line of conduct.

CHAPTER IX

Adrien's appearance in the stable-yard was the signal for much excitement among the hands there; and presently the head groom made his appearance, struggling into his coat, while coughing with embarra.s.sed respect.

"Good morning, Markham," said his master with a nod; "where's the 'King'?"

"In the south stable, sir," replied the man, as he fumbled in his pocket for the keys. "You would like to see him, sir?"

Adrien nodded, and made his way to the stable, accompanied by the groom.

"No one else is allowed to enter the stable but yourself, Markham?" he asked, as the man unlocked the door.

"No one, sir. I'm always here when he's being littered or fed. Not a soul touches him without I'm at his side. He's in fine condition, sir; I never saw him in better."