In Her Own Right Part 8

"My first caller," thought Croyden, and immediately he arose and went forward to meet him.

"Permit me to present myself, sir," said the newcomer. "I am Charles Carrington."

"I am very glad to meet you, Captain Carrington," said Croyden, taking the proffered hand.

"This is your first visit to Hampton, I believe, sir," the Captain remarked, when they were seated under the trees. "It is not Northumberland, sir; we haven't the push, and the bustle, and the smoke, but we have a pleasant little town, sir, and we're glad to welcome you here. I think you will like it. It's a long time since Clarendon had a tenant, sir. Colonel Duval's been dead nearly ten years now. Your father and he were particular friends, I believe."

Croyden a.s.sured him that such was the case.

"Yes, sir, the Colonel often spoke of him to me with great affection. I can't say I was surprised to know that he had made him his heir. He was the last of the Duvals--not even a collateral in the family--there was only one child to a generation, sir."

Manifestly, it was not known in Hampton how Hugh Croyden came to be the Colonel's heir, and, indeed, friends.h.i.+p had prompted the money-loan, without security other than the promise of the ultimate transfer of Clarendon and its contents. And Croyden, respecting the Colonel's wish, evident now, though unexpressed either to his father or himself, resolved to treat the place as a gift, and to suppress the fact that there had been an ample and adequate consideration.

After a short visit, Captain Carrington arose to go.

"Come over and take supper with us, this evening, sir," said he. "I want you to meet Mrs. Carrington and my granddaughter."

"I'll come with pleasure," Croyden answered, thinking of the girl with the blue-black hair and slender ankles.

"It's the house yonder, with the white pillars--at half-after-six, then, sir."

As Croyden approached the Carrington house, he encountered Miss Carrington on the walk.

"We have met before," she said, as he bowed over her hand. "I was your original guide to Clarendon. Have you forgot?"

"Have I forgot?" said Croyden. "Do you think it possible?" looking her in the eyes.

"No, I don't."

"But you wanted to hear me say it?"

"I wanted to know if you could say it," she answered, gayly.

"And how have I succeeded?"

"Admirably!"

"Sufficiently well to pa.s.s muster?"

"Muster--for what?" she asked, with a sly smile.

"For enrollment among your victims."

"Shall I put your name on the list--at the foot?" she laughed.

"Why at the foot?"

"The last comer--you have to work your way up by merit, you know."

"Which consists in?"

"_That_ you will have to discover."

"I shall try," he said. "Is it so very difficult of discovery?"

"No, it should not be so difficult--for you," she answered, with a flash of her violet eyes. "Mother!" as they reached the piazza--"let me present Mr. Croyden."

Mrs. Carrington arose to greet him--a tall, slender woman, whose age was sixty, at least, but who appeared not a day over forty-five, despite the dark gown and little lace cap she was wearing. She seemed what the girl had called her--the mother, rather than the grandmother.

And when she smiled!

"Miss Carrington two generations hence. Lord! how do they do it?"

thought Croyden.

"You play Bridge, of course, Mr. Croyden," said Miss Carrington, when the dessert was being served.

"I like it very much," he answered.

"I was sure you did--so sure, indeed, I asked a few friends in later--for a rubber or two--and to meet you."

"So it's well for me I play," he smiled.

"It is indeed!" laughed Mrs. Carrington--"that is, if you care aught for Davila's good opinion. If one can't play Bridge one would better not be born."

"When you know Mother a little better, Mr. Croyden, you will recognize that she is inclined to exaggerate at times," said Miss Carrington. "I admit that I am fond of the game, that I like to play with people who know how, and who, at the critical moment, are not always throwing the wrong card--you understand?"

"In other words, you haven't any patience with stupidity," said Croyden. "Nor have I--but we sometimes forget that a card player is born, not made. All the drilling and teaching one can do won't give card sense to one who hasn't any."

"Precisely!" Miss Carrington exclaimed, "and life is too short to bother with such people. They may be very charming otherwise, but not across the Bridge table."

"Yet ought you not to forgive them their misplays, just because they are charming?" Mrs. Carrington asked. "If you were given your choice between a poor player who is charming, and a good player who is disagreeable, which would you choose, Mr. Croyden?--Come, now be honest."

"It would depend upon the size of the game," Croyden responded. "If it were half a cent a point, I should choose the charming partner, but if it were five cents or better, I am inclined to think I should prefer the good player."

"I'll remember that," said Miss Carrington. "As we don't play, here, for money stakes, you won't care if your partner isn't very expert."

"Not exactly," he laughed. "The stipulation is that she shall be charming. I should be willing to take _you_ for a partner though you trumped my ace and forgot my lead."

"_Merci_, _Monsieur_," she answered. "Though you know I should do neither."

"Ever play poker?" Captain Carrington asked, suddenly.

"Occasionally," smiled Croyden.

"Good! We'll go down to the Club, some evening. We old fellows aren't much on Bridge, but we can handle a pair or three of-a-kind, pretty good. Have some sherry, won't you?"

"You must not let the Captain beguile you," interposed Mrs. Carrington.

"The men all play poker with us,--it is a heritage of the old days--though the youngsters are breaking away from it."