At Sunwich Port, Complete. William Wymark Jacobs
Читать онлайн книгу.
else when she’s available,” qualified her father, eyeing her sharply. “When I give orders I expect people to use their common sense. Why isn’t my tea ready? It’s five o’clock.”
“The clock’s twenty minutes fast,” said Kate. “Who’s been meddling with it?” demanded her father, verifying the fact by his watch.
Miss Nugent shook her head. “It’s gained that since you regulated it last night,” she said, with a smile.
The captain threw himself into an easy-chair, and with one eye on the clock, waited until, at five minutes to the hour by the right time, a clatter of crockery sounded from the kitchen, and Bella, still damp, came in with the tray. Her eye was also on the clock, and she smirked weakly in the captain’s direction as she saw that she was at least two minutes ahead of time. At a minute to the hour the teapot itself was on the tray, and the heavy breathing of the handmaiden in the kitchen was audible to all.
“Punctual to the minute, John,” said Mrs. Kingdom, as she took her seat at the tray. “It’s wonderful how that girl has improved since you’ve been at home. She isn’t like the same girl.”
She raised the teapot and, after pouring out a little of the contents, put it down again and gave it another two minutes. At the end of that time, the colour being of the same unsatisfactory paleness, she set the pot down and was about to raise the lid when an avalanche burst into the room and, emptying some tea into the pot from a canister-lid, beat a hasty retreat.
“Good tea and well-trained servants,” muttered the captain to his plate. “What more can a man want?”
Mrs. Kingdom coughed and passed his cup; Miss Nugent, who possessed a healthy appetite, serenely attacked her bread and butter; conversation languished.
“I suppose you’ve heard the news, John?” said his sister.
“I daresay I have,” was the reply.
“Strange he should come back after all these years,” said Mrs. Kingdom; “though, to be sure, I don’t know why he shouldn’t. It’s his native place, and his father lives here.”
“Who are you talking about?” inquired the captain.
“Why, James Hardy,” replied his sister. “I thought you said you had heard. He’s coming back to Sunwich and going into partnership with old Swann, the shipbroker. A very good thing for him, I should think.”
“I’m not interested in the doings of the Hardys,” said the captain, gruffly.
“I’m sure I’m not,” said his sister, defensively.
Captain Nugent proceeded with his meal in silence. His hatred of Hardy had not been lessened by the success which had attended that gentleman’s career, and was not likely to be improved by the well-being of Hardy junior. He passed his cup for some more tea, and, with a furtive glance at the photograph on the mantelpiece, wondered what had happened to his own son.
“I don’t suppose I should know him if I saw him,” continued Mrs. Kingdom, addressing a respectable old arm-chair; “London is sure to have changed him.”
“Is this water-cress?” inquired the captain, looking up from his plate.
“Yes. Why?” said Mrs. Kingdom.
“I only wanted information,” said her brother, as he deposited the salad in question in the slop-basin.
Mrs. Kingdom, with a resigned expression, tried to catch her niece’s eye and caught the captain’s instead. Miss Nugent happening to glance up saw her fascinated by the basilisk glare of the master of the house.
“Some more tea, please,” she said.
Her aunt took her cup, and in gratitude for the diversion picked out the largest lumps of sugar in the basin.
“London changes so many people,” mused the persevering lady, stirring her tea. “I’ve noticed it before. Why it is I can’t say, but the fact remains. It seems to improve them altogether. I dare say that young Hardy—”
“Will you understand that I won’t have the Hardys mentiond in my house?” said the captain, looking up. “I’m not interested in their business, and I will not have it discussed here.”
“As you please, John,” said his sister, drawing herself up. “It’s your house and you are master here. I’m sure I don’t want to discuss them. Nothing was farther from my thoughts. You understand what your father says, Kate?”
“Perfectly,” said Miss Nugent. “When the desire to talk about the Hardys becomes irresistible we must go for a walk.”
The captain turned in his chair and regarded his daughter steadily. She met his gaze with calm affection.
“I wish you were a boy,” he growled.
“You’re the only man in Sunwich who wishes that,” said Miss Nugent, complacently, “and I don’t believe you mean it. If you’ll come a little closer I’ll put my head on your shoulder and convert you.”
“Kate!” said Mrs. Kingdom, reprovingly.
“And, talking about heads,” said Miss Nugent, briskly, “reminds me that I want a new hat. You needn’t look like that; good-looking daughters always come expensive.”
She moved her chair a couple of inches in his direction and smiled alluringly. The captain shifted uneasily; prudence counselled flight, but dignity forbade it. He stared hard at Mrs. Kingdom, and a smile of rare appreciation on that lady’s face endeavoured to fade slowly and naturally into another expression. The chair came nearer.
“Don’t be foolish,” said the captain, gruffly.
The chair came still nearer until at last it touched his, and then Miss Nugent, with a sigh of exaggerated content, allowed her head to sink gracefully on his shoulder.
“Most comfortable shoulder in Sunwich,” she murmured; “come and try the other, aunt, and perhaps you’ll get a new bonnet.”
Mrs. Kingdom hastened to reassure her brother. She would almost as soon have thought of putting her head on the block. At the same time it was quite evident that she was taking a mild joy in his discomfiture and eagerly awaiting further developments.
“When you are tired of this childish behaviour, miss,” said the captain, stiffly–
There was a pause. “Kate!” said Mrs. Kingdom, in tones of mild reproof, “how can you?”
“Very good,” said the captain, we’ll see who gets tired of it first. “I’m in no hurry.”
A delicate but unmistakable snore rose from his shoulder in reply.
CHAPTER VI
For the first few days after his return Sunwich was full of surprises to Jem Hardy. The town itself had changed but little, and the older inhabitants were for the most part easily recognisable, but time had wrought wonders among the younger members of the population: small boys had attained to whiskered manhood, and small girls passing into well-grown young women had in some cases even changed their names.
The most astounding and gratifying instance of the wonders effected by time was that of Miss Nugent. He saw her first at the window, and with a ready recognition of the enchantment lent by distance took the first possible opportunity of a closer observation. He then realized the enchantment afforded by proximity. The second opportunity led him impetuously into a draper’s shop, where a magnificent shop-walker, after first ceremoniously handing him a high cane chair, passed on his order for pins in a deep and thrilling baritone, and retired in good order.
By the end of a week his observations were completed, and Kate Nugent, securely enthroned in his mind as the incarnation of feminine grace and beauty, left but little room for other matters. On his second Sunday at home, to his father’s great surprise, he attended church, and after contemplating Miss Nugent’s back hair for an hour and a half came home and spoke eloquently and nobly on “burying hatchets,” “healing old sores,” “letting bygones be bygones,” and kindred topics.
“I