"I"m the only visitor to-night?" said Hardy, after an hour"s patient listening and waiting.
Mr. Wilks nodded casually. "Miss Kate came last night," he said. "Friday is her night, but she came yesterday instead."
Mr. Hardy said, "Oh, indeed," and fell straight-way into a dismal reverie from which the most spirited efforts of his host only partially aroused him.
Without giving way to undue egotism it was pretty clear that Miss Nugent had changed her plans on his account, and a long vista of pleasant Friday evenings suddenly vanished. He, too, resolved to vary his visits, and, starting with a basis of two a week, sat trying to solve the mathematical chances of selecting the same as Kate Nugent; calculations which were not facilitated by a long-winded account from Mr. Wilks of certain interesting amours of his youthful prime.
Before he saw Kate Nugent again, however, another old acquaintance turned up safe and sound in Sunwich. Captain Nugent walking into the town saw him first: a tall, well-knit young man in shabby clothing, whose bearing even in the distance was oddly familiar. As he came closer the captain"s misgivings were confirmed, and in the sunburnt fellow in tattered clothes who advanced upon him with out-stretched hand he reluctantly recognized his son.
"What have you come home for?" he inquired, ignoring the hand and eyeing him from head to foot.
"Change," said Jack Nugent, laconically, as the smile left his face.
The captain shrugged his shoulders and stood silent. His son looked first up the road and then down.
"All well at home?" he inquired.
"Yes."
Jack Nugent looked up the road again.
"Not much change in the town," he said, at length.
"No," said his father.
"Well, I"m glad to have seen you," said his son. "Good-bye."
"Good-bye," said the captain.
His son nodded and, turning on his heel, walked back towards the town. Despite his forlorn appearance his step was jaunty and he carried his head high. The captain watched him until he was hidden by a bend in the road, and then, ashamed of himself for displaying so much emotion, turned his own steps in the direction of home.
"Well, he didn"t whine," he said, slowly. "He"s got a bit of pride left."
Meantime the prodigal had reached the town again, and stood ruefully considering his position.
He looked up the street, and then, the well-known shop of Mr. Kybird catching his eye, walked over and inspected the contents of the window. Sheath-knives, belts, tobacco-boxes, and watches were displayed alluringly behind the gla.s.s, sheltered from the sun by a row of cheap clothing dangling from short poles over the shop front. All the goods were marked in plain figures in reduced circ.u.mstances, Mr. Kybird giving a soaring imagination play in the first marking, and a good business faculty in the second.
At these valuables Jack Nugent, with a view of obtaining some idea of prices, gazed for some time. Then pa.s.sing between two suits of oilskins which stood as sentinels in the doorway, he entered the shop and smiled affably at Miss Kybird, who was in charge. At his entrance she put down a piece of fancy-work, which Mr. Kybird called his sock, and with a casual glance at his clothes regarded him with a prejudiced eye.
"Beautiful day," said the customer; "makes one feel quite young again."
"What do you want?" inquired Miss Kybird.
Mr. Nugent turned to a broken cane-chair which stood by the counter, and, after applying severe tests, regardless of the lady"s feelings, sat down upon it and gave a sigh of relief.
"I"ve walked from London," he said, in explanation. "I could sit here for hours."
"Look here----" began the indignant Miss Kybird.
"Only people would be sure to couple our names together," continued Mr. Nugent, mournfully.
"When a handsome young man and a good-looking girl----"
"Do you want to buy anything or not?" demanded Miss Kybird, with an impatient toss of her head.
"No," said Jack, "I want to sell."
"You"ve come to the wrong shop, then," said Miss Kybird; "the warehouse is full of rubbish now."
The other turned in his chair and looked hard at the window. "So it is," he a.s.sented. "It"s a good job I"ve brought you something decent to put there."
He felt in his pockets and, producing a silver-mounted briar-pipe, a battered watch, a knife, and a few other small articles, deposited them with reverent care upon the counter.
"No use to us," declared Miss Kybird, anxious to hit back; "we burn coal here."
"These"ll burn better than the coal you buy," said the unmoved customer.
"Well, we don"t want them," retorted Miss Kybird, raising her voice, "and I don"t want any of your impudence. Get up out of our chair."
Her heightened tones penetrated to the small and untidy room behind the shop. The door opened, and Mr. Kybird in his shirt-sleeves appeared at the opening.
"Wot"s the row?" he demanded, his little black eyes glancing from one to the other.
"Only a lovers" quarrel," replied Jack. "You go away; we don"t want you."
"Look "ere, we don"t want none o" your nonsense," said the shopkeeper, sharply; "and, wot"s more, we won"t "ave it. Who put that rubbish on my counter?"
He bustled forward, and taking the articles in his hands examined them closely.
"Three shillings for the lot--cash," he remarked. "Done," said the other.
"Did I say three?" inquired Mr. Kybird, startled at this ready acceptance.
"Five you said," replied Mr. Nugent, "but I"ll take three, if you throw in a smile."
Mr. Kybird, much against his inclinations, threw in a faint grin, and opening a drawer produced three shillings and flung them separately on the counter. Miss Kybird thawed somewhat, and glancing from the customer"s clothes to his face saw that he had a pleasant eye and a good moustache, together with a general air of recklessness much appreciated by the s.e.x.
"Don"t spend it on drink," she remarked, not unkindly.
"I won"t," said the other, solemnly; "I"m going to buy house property with it."
"Why, darn my eyes," said Mr. Kybird, who had been regarding him closely; "darn my old eyes, if it ain"t young Nugent. Well, well!"
"That"s me," said young Nugent, cheerfully; "I should have known you anywhere, Kybird: same old face, same old voice, same old shirt-sleeves."
""Ere, come now," objected the shopkeeper, shortening his arm and squinting along it.
"I should have known you anywhere," continued the other, mournfully; "and here I"ve thrown up a splendid berth and come all the way from Australia just for one glimpse of Miss Kybird, and she doesn"t know me. When I die, Kybird, you will find the word "Calais" engraven upon my heart."