were standing up with the commandant, but of course the heinous word "ball" did not intrude into this Methodist sanctuary.
Mrs. Rafferty said she disapproved of all Frenchmen on principle, and Mr. Rafferty pronounced that Napoleon ought to be drawn and quartered if he dared to set a toe on England, and so he would be, by Jehosephat. Miss Bradford taxed her ingenuity to think of another subject to pass the next half hour, at which time she felt she could decently retire. She jumped six inches from her chair when the front-door knocker pounded.
"Who the deuce can be calling at such an hour?" Mr. Rafferty snorted with an accusing look at his wife. "Bad enough people we scarcely know ..." His eyes just peeled off the top of Vanessa's head, to intercept a repressive stare from his wife, who was not quite such a savage as her husband.
"Why don't you go and see?" she asked pretty sharply. He arose, but before he reached the doorway, there was the sound of a young gentleman's voice asking for Mr. Edward Rafferty. The lady of the house addressed her husband as John, so Vanessa assumed there was a son on the premises, one with the wits to have removed himself from the saloon.
"Edward is not at home," Mrs. Rafferty said. "Who can be calling on him?"
The butler marched to the archway to announce in injured accents, "Mr. Carlisle."
A well-formed young man entered, elegantly got up in dark clothing. He smiled politely. He was not exactly handsome, but he had a winning smile and rather happy eyes—blue eyes. Had he been only a quarter as presentable, he would have been a welcome addition to the party, in the lady's view. He bowed politely to the ladies before giving Mr. Rafferty's hand a shake.
"I understand your son is away?" he asked, looking surprised to hear it.
"He is gone off to some races," the mother told him, with deep disapproval.
"He must have gone to the Doncaster meet. Odd he did not mention it," Carlisle replied, apparently not realizing that racing, tinged as it was with gambling, was a taboo in this household.
"Very likely," the dame agreed. "Did you wish to see Edward?"
"We had an appointment," Mr. Carlise said. "He invited me to visit him two weeks ago, to come on this date. We were to go to London together. Odd he did not let me know he was leaving."
"Well, he is not here," Mrs. Rafferty repeated, just casting her eyes about the room as though to hint he could see for himself.
Miss Bradford was made acquainted with him, which brought him to a chair beside her. "Visiting, are you?" he asked pleasantly.
"Miss Bradford is staying overnight with us," the hostess explained. "Would you care for a cup of tea before you leave, Mr. Carlisle?"
"Leave?" he asked, his brows rising. "But surely Edward will be here tomorrow morning. We had a definite appointment."
"Oh, you want to stay overnight," Rafferty said in an accusing way.
"I would not want to put you to any trouble," he said quickly, even apologetically. "I can go to an inn, if there is one nearby."
An inn was likely to serve him strong drink, a thing to be avoided at whatever personal inconvenience to the Raffertys, as the man was a friend of their son. "It will be no trouble," the woman said, her thin voice belying the generous words.
"You are very kind," he said, accepting a cup of tea.
The parents' hostility thawed somewhat over the tea. "So you are a friend of Edward's, are you?" Mr. Rafferty confirmed. "A friend from his university days, I daresay. He met all manner of riffraff there."
"Just so," Mr. Carlisle replied gravely, but with some laughter lurking in those blue eyes.
"Are you the fellow who lives at Birmingham?" Rafferty continued, in an accusing way, his brows gathering in dismay. Miss Bradford thought that if she were the visitor, she would not admit to ever having been near Birmingham. "Edward went to a ball in Birmingham."
"Oh, really?" Carlisle asked, quite obviously nonplussed by this piece of information. "No, I am from the Cotswold
Mrs. Rafferty said she disapproved of all Frenchmen on principle, and Mr. Rafferty pronounced that Napoleon ought to be drawn and quartered if he dared to set a toe on England, and so he would be, by Jehosephat. Miss Bradford taxed her ingenuity to think of another subject to pass the next half hour, at which time she felt she could decently retire. She jumped six inches from her chair when the front-door knocker pounded.
"Who the deuce can be calling at such an hour?" Mr. Rafferty snorted with an accusing look at his wife. "Bad enough people we scarcely know ..." His eyes just peeled off the top of Vanessa's head, to intercept a repressive stare from his wife, who was not quite such a savage as her husband.
"Why don't you go and see?" she asked pretty sharply. He arose, but before he reached the doorway, there was the sound of a young gentleman's voice asking for Mr. Edward Rafferty. The lady of the house addressed her husband as John, so Vanessa assumed there was a son on the premises, one with the wits to have removed himself from the saloon.
"Edward is not at home," Mrs. Rafferty said. "Who can be calling on him?"
The butler marched to the archway to announce in injured accents, "Mr. Carlisle."
A well-formed young man entered, elegantly got up in dark clothing. He smiled politely. He was not exactly handsome, but he had a winning smile and rather happy eyes—blue eyes. Had he been only a quarter as presentable, he would have been a welcome addition to the party, in the lady's view. He bowed politely to the ladies before giving Mr. Rafferty's hand a shake.
"I understand your son is away?" he asked, looking surprised to hear it.
"He is gone off to some races," the mother told him, with deep disapproval.
"He must have gone to the Doncaster meet. Odd he did not mention it," Carlisle replied, apparently not realizing that racing, tinged as it was with gambling, was a taboo in this household.
"Very likely," the dame agreed. "Did you wish to see Edward?"
"We had an appointment," Mr. Carlise said. "He invited me to visit him two weeks ago, to come on this date. We were to go to London together. Odd he did not let me know he was leaving."
"Well, he is not here," Mrs. Rafferty repeated, just casting her eyes about the room as though to hint he could see for himself.
Miss Bradford was made acquainted with him, which brought him to a chair beside her. "Visiting, are you?" he asked pleasantly.
"Miss Bradford is staying overnight with us," the hostess explained. "Would you care for a cup of tea before you leave, Mr. Carlisle?"
"Leave?" he asked, his brows rising. "But surely Edward will be here tomorrow morning. We had a definite appointment."
"Oh, you want to stay overnight," Rafferty said in an accusing way.
"I would not want to put you to any trouble," he said quickly, even apologetically. "I can go to an inn, if there is one nearby."
An inn was likely to serve him strong drink, a thing to be avoided at whatever personal inconvenience to the Raffertys, as the man was a friend of their son. "It will be no trouble," the woman said, her thin voice belying the generous words.
"You are very kind," he said, accepting a cup of tea.
The parents' hostility thawed somewhat over the tea. "So you are a friend of Edward's, are you?" Mr. Rafferty confirmed. "A friend from his university days, I daresay. He met all manner of riffraff there."
"Just so," Mr. Carlisle replied gravely, but with some laughter lurking in those blue eyes.
"Are you the fellow who lives at Birmingham?" Rafferty continued, in an accusing way, his brows gathering in dismay. Miss Bradford thought that if she were the visitor, she would not admit to ever having been near Birmingham. "Edward went to a ball in Birmingham."
"Oh, really?" Carlisle asked, quite obviously nonplussed by this piece of information. "No, I am from the Cotswold
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