“Morning, Aunt Hester,” he said. “Morning, Raymond.”
He paused in order to make quite sure that Raymond made no response, and sat down next his aunt.
“Been bathing,” he said. “Hottest morning that ever was. Why didn’t you come, too, Aunt Hester? You’d look like a water-nymph. I say, what a nice hat! Whom are you going to reduce to despair? Hullo, three letters!”
“How many of them are love-letters?” asked Aunt Hester archly.
“All, of course,” said Colin. “There’s one from Cambridge.”
“That’ll be the young woman in the tobacconist’s shop whom you told us about,” began Aunt Hester.
“Sh!” said Colin, nodding towards Raymond. “Sore subject.”
Raymond, pushing back his chair, could not control himself from casting one furious glance at Colin, and went out.
“Well, that’s one bad-tempered young man gone,” said Lady Hester severely. She could understand people being thieves and liars, but to fail in pleasantness and geniality was frankly unintelligible to her.
“Why does he behave like that, my dear?” she continued. “He hadn’t a word to chuck at me like a bone to a dog, when I wished him good morning. What makes him like that? He ain’t got a belly-ache, has he?”
Colin, as he swam in the sunshine this morning, had devoted some amount of smiling reflection as to his policy with regard to Raymond. Raymond had rejected his amazing proposal with a derisive laugh; he did not think that an alliance with his brother was worth that price, and he must take the consequences of his refusal.
Violet entered at this moment; that was convenient, for she, too, could hear about the quarrel last night at one telling.
“Oh, we had a row last night,” he said. “It was pitched a little higher than usual, and I suppose Raymond’s suffering from after-effects. He was perfectly furious with me for having mimicked him, and wasn’t the least soothed by my saying he might mimic me as often as he pleased. Then I was told I was a cad and a liar for that nonsense I talked about the tobacconist’s. After I had stood as much as I could manage, I left him to his whisky, and I don’t imagine there’ll be much left of it. Oh, I say, Violet, did you shut the door when you came in? I believe it’s open; I’ll do it.”
Colin got up, went to the door which was indeed ajar, and looked out into the long gallery. Raymond, it so happened, was sitting in the nearest window-seat lighting his pipe.