Mission!”
The pilot came to the conclusion that he had had about as much as he could stand. He got up from his chair. “I’m a bit tired,” he said. “Would you mind if I went to bed now? We can go on with this in the morning.”
Lockwood looked with irritation at his daughter. He wished that she had kept out of it. He knew instinctively that the pilot was in the right in this contention, that Alix was making a fool of herself. He wanted to spend the rest of the evening with Ross making plans for the expedition; at the same time, he could hardly discipline his daughter in front of this young man. Besides, the pilot might be really tired. He said:
“By all means, Mr. Ross. You know the way to your room. We’ll go on with our arrangements after breakfast.”
The pilot nodded. “We shall be fresher then. After that, I must get back to London if we’re going on with this. Good night, Mr. Lockwood—don’t get up.” He passed the girl and nodded to her coldly. “Good night, Miss Lockwood.”
He went up to his room, undressed moodily, and got into bed. The job did not appear to be so very safe, after all. It was all right except for that infernal girl. He hoped that she’d marry a commercial traveller, and have triplets. Keep her quiet. But no commercial traveller would look at her. A little bitch, with ugly clothes and with an ugly mind. To hell with her.
He slept.
In the study below Alix faced her father. “I know you’re cross with me, Daddy,” she said quietly, “but I can’t help it. I’m quite sure there’s something wrong here. It can’t possibly be necessary to spend all those thousands of pounds.”
Lockwood said irritably: “My dear, your uncle has built up a very big business, and he’s got a very good business man as his secretary. Don’t you think we might leave the money side to him? After all, it’s their money. If you’reafraid that Mr. Ross is trying to cheat them, you can set your mind at rest. He’ll be a clever man if he gets anything past Hanson.”
The girl said: “I know, Daddy. But the whole thing is being so rushed. Don’t go any further with it to-night. Is Uncle David coming down to-morrow?”
“Yes. He’ll be here in the evening.”
“Daddy, how much is Mr. Ross going to make out of this expedition? How much are you paying him?”
Her father said: “I really don’t know. David said that they’d fixed up terms with him, but he didn’t say what they were.”
She stuck her chin out. “Well, I’d like to know.”
“My dear, he’s got to earn his living, like everybody else.”
“I know, Daddy. But he’s in such a hurry to rush us into this, and there’s really no hurry at all. It’s over ten weeks before you want to be there, on the first of August. I know you’ve got to get there, but Isobel flew further than that in one day when she went to Rome. It all makes one smell a rat.”
Lockwood faced his daughter. “Do you think he’s a rogue?” he asked directly.
She hesitated. “No … I don’t quite think that. But I think he wants this job very badly, and he’s trying to rush you into it.”
There was a long silence after she said that. Lockwood, for all his years, was still the victim of an in feriority complex. He knew himself to be a good lecturer, a useful member of his college, a fine classical scholar, and a brilliant archæologist. With these accomplishments, he was a child in business and in money matters, and he knew it. He knew it much too well. Various sad experiences as a younger man had shown him that he could be imposed upon, and he had accepted the position with docility.
He said doubtfully: “I’m not sure that you’re right, Alix. I like him very well.”
“I know, Daddy. But that doesn’t alter the fact that he’s hoping to get a job out of you.”
He said: “All right, my dear. We’ll wait and talk it over with David when he comes.”
She said, a little hesitantly: “It’s going to be a terribly difficult
The pilot came to the conclusion that he had had about as much as he could stand. He got up from his chair. “I’m a bit tired,” he said. “Would you mind if I went to bed now? We can go on with this in the morning.”
Lockwood looked with irritation at his daughter. He wished that she had kept out of it. He knew instinctively that the pilot was in the right in this contention, that Alix was making a fool of herself. He wanted to spend the rest of the evening with Ross making plans for the expedition; at the same time, he could hardly discipline his daughter in front of this young man. Besides, the pilot might be really tired. He said:
“By all means, Mr. Ross. You know the way to your room. We’ll go on with our arrangements after breakfast.”
The pilot nodded. “We shall be fresher then. After that, I must get back to London if we’re going on with this. Good night, Mr. Lockwood—don’t get up.” He passed the girl and nodded to her coldly. “Good night, Miss Lockwood.”
He went up to his room, undressed moodily, and got into bed. The job did not appear to be so very safe, after all. It was all right except for that infernal girl. He hoped that she’d marry a commercial traveller, and have triplets. Keep her quiet. But no commercial traveller would look at her. A little bitch, with ugly clothes and with an ugly mind. To hell with her.
He slept.
In the study below Alix faced her father. “I know you’re cross with me, Daddy,” she said quietly, “but I can’t help it. I’m quite sure there’s something wrong here. It can’t possibly be necessary to spend all those thousands of pounds.”
Lockwood said irritably: “My dear, your uncle has built up a very big business, and he’s got a very good business man as his secretary. Don’t you think we might leave the money side to him? After all, it’s their money. If you’reafraid that Mr. Ross is trying to cheat them, you can set your mind at rest. He’ll be a clever man if he gets anything past Hanson.”
The girl said: “I know, Daddy. But the whole thing is being so rushed. Don’t go any further with it to-night. Is Uncle David coming down to-morrow?”
“Yes. He’ll be here in the evening.”
“Daddy, how much is Mr. Ross going to make out of this expedition? How much are you paying him?”
Her father said: “I really don’t know. David said that they’d fixed up terms with him, but he didn’t say what they were.”
She stuck her chin out. “Well, I’d like to know.”
“My dear, he’s got to earn his living, like everybody else.”
“I know, Daddy. But he’s in such a hurry to rush us into this, and there’s really no hurry at all. It’s over ten weeks before you want to be there, on the first of August. I know you’ve got to get there, but Isobel flew further than that in one day when she went to Rome. It all makes one smell a rat.”
Lockwood faced his daughter. “Do you think he’s a rogue?” he asked directly.
She hesitated. “No … I don’t quite think that. But I think he wants this job very badly, and he’s trying to rush you into it.”
There was a long silence after she said that. Lockwood, for all his years, was still the victim of an in feriority complex. He knew himself to be a good lecturer, a useful member of his college, a fine classical scholar, and a brilliant archæologist. With these accomplishments, he was a child in business and in money matters, and he knew it. He knew it much too well. Various sad experiences as a younger man had shown him that he could be imposed upon, and he had accepted the position with docility.
He said doubtfully: “I’m not sure that you’re right, Alix. I like him very well.”
“I know, Daddy. But that doesn’t alter the fact that he’s hoping to get a job out of you.”
He said: “All right, my dear. We’ll wait and talk it over with David when he comes.”
She said, a little hesitantly: “It’s going to be a terribly difficult
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