it be Carnaby, not he, who was by this time walking along the
sea front of Weston, and watching the breeze flutter Robinette's scarf
and bring a brighter colour to her lips?
There! the last words were written, and taking up his bunch of
letters, watch in hand, he sought Mrs. de Tracy, and explained that he
would bicycle to Weston and catch the London post himself.
"I'll send William"--she began; but Lavendar hastily assured her that
he should enjoy the ride, and hurried off in triumph. Miss Smeardon
smiled an acid smile as she watched him go. "He has forgotten all
about poor Miss Meredith, I suppose," she murmured. "Yet it was not so
long ago that they were supposed to be all in all to each other!"
"It was a foolish engagement, Miss Smeardon," said Mrs. de Tracy in a
cold voice. "I never thought the girl was suited to Mark, and I
understand that old Mr. Lavendar was relieved when the whole thing
came to an end."
"Quite so; certainly; no doubt Miss Meredith would never have made him
happy," said Miss Smeardon at once, "though it is always more
agreeable when the lady discovers the fact first. In this case she
confessed openly that Mr. Lavendar broke her heart with his
indifference."
"She was an ill-bred young woman," said Mrs. de Tracy, as if the
subject were now closed. "However, I hope that the son of my family
solicitor would think it only proper to pay a certain amount of
attention to the Admiral's niece, were she ever so obnoxious to him."
Miss Smeardon made no audible reply, but her thoughts were to the
effect that never was an obnoxious duty performed by any man with a
better grace.
The sea front at Weston was the most prosaic scene in the world, a
long esplanade with an asphalt path running its full length, and ugly
jerrybuilt houses glaring out upon it, a gimcrack pier with a
gingerbread sort of band-stand and glass house at the end;--all that
could have been done to ruin nature had been determinedly done there.
But you cannot ruin a spring day, nor youth, nor the colour of the
sea. Along the level shore, the placid waves swept and broke, and then
gathered up their white skirts, and retreated to return with the same
musical laugh. Children and dogs played about on the wet sands. The
wind blew freshly and the sea stretched all one pure blue, till it met
on the horizon with the bluer skies.
Weston seemed to Lavendar a very fresh and delightful spot at
that moment, although had he been in a diffe
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