Professor Braddock was usually the most methodical of men, and timed his life by the clock and the almanac. He rose at seven, summer and winter, to partake of a breakfast, which served him until dinner came at five thirty. Braddock dined at this unusual hour—save when there was company—as he did not eat any and scorned the very idea of afternoon tea. Two meals a day, he maintained, was enough for any man who led a sedentary life, as too much food was apt to the wheels of the intellect. He usually worked in his museum—if the indulgence of his hobby could be called work—from nine until four, after which hour he took a short walk in the garden or through the village. On finishing his dinner he would glance over some scientific publication, or perhaps, by way of recreation, play a game or two of patience; but at seven he invariably into his own rooms to renew work. to bed took place at midnight, so it can be guessed that the Professor got through an enormous quantity of work during the year. A more methodical man, or a more man did not exist.
But on occasions even this wearied of his hobby, and of the year's routine. A to see brother scientists of his own way of thinking would seize him, and he would depart for London, to occupy quiet , and indulge in with his fellow-men. Braddock rarely gave early intimation of his urban . At breakfast he would suddenly announce that the fit took him to go to London, and he would drive to Jessum along with Cockatoo to catch the ten o'clock train to London. Sometimes he sent the Kanaka back; at other times he would take him to town; but whether Cockatoo remained or departed, the museum was always locked up lest it should be by the servants of the house. As a matter of fact, Braddock need not have been afraid, for Lucy—knowing her step-father's and violent temper—took care that the sanctity of the place should remain .
Sometimes the Professor came back in a couple of days; at times his absence would extend to a week; and on two or three occasions he remained absent for a fortnight. But whenever he returned, he said very little about his doings to Lucy, perhaps deeming that dry scientific details would not appeal to a lively young lady. As soon as he was established in his museum again, life at the Pyramids would resume its usual routine, until Braddock again felt the want of a change. The wonder was, considering the nature of his work, and the closeness of his application, that he did not more often indulge in these Bohemian wanderings.
Lucy, therefore, was not astonished when, on the morning after her visit to Mrs. Jasher, the Professor announced in his usual way that he intended to go to London, but would leave Cockatoo in charge of his precious collection. She was somewhat disturbed, however, as, wishing to forward the widow's matrimonial aims, she had invited her to dinner for the ensuing night. This she told her step-father, and, rather to her surprise, he expressed himself sorry that he could not remain.
“Mrs. Jasher,” said Braddock hastily, drinking his coffee, “is a very sensible woman, who knows when to be silent.”
“She is also a good , I believe,” hinted Miss Kendal .
“Eh, what? Well? Why do you say that?” snapped Braddock sharply.
Lucy fenced.
“Mrs. Jasher admires you, father.”
Braddock , but did not seem , since even a scientist possessing the usual vanity of the male is not to flattery.
“Did Mrs. Jasher tell you this?” he inquired, smiling .
“Not in so many words. Still, I am a woman, and can guess how much another woman leaves unsaid.” Lucy paused, then added significantly: “I do not think that she is so very old, and you must admit that she is wonderfully well preserved.”
“Like a mummy,” remarked the Professor absently; then pushed back his chair to add briskly: “What does all this mean, you minx? I know that the woman is all right so far as a woman can be: but her confounded age and her looks and her unexpressed . What are these to an old man like myself?”
“Father,” said Lucy earnestly, “when I marry Archie I shall, in all probability, leave Gartley for London.”
“I know—I know. Bless me, child, do you think that I have not thought of that? If you were only wise, which you are not, you would marry and remain at the Fort.”
“Sir Frank has other fish to fry, father. And even if I did remain at the Fort as his wife, I still could not look after you.”
“Humph! I am beginning to see what you are driving at. But I can't forget your mother, my dear. She was a good wife to me.”
“Still,” said Lucy , and becoming more and more the champion of Mrs. Jasher, “you cannot manage this large house by yourself. I do not like to leave you in the hands of servants when I marry. Mrs. Jasher is very and—”
“And would make a good housekeeper. No, no, I don't want to give you another mother, child.”
“There is no danger of that, even if I did not marry,” rejoined Lucy stiffly. “A girl can have only one mother.”
“And a man can have two wives,” said Braddock with dry humor. “Humph!”—he pinched his plump chin—“it's not a bad idea. But of course I can't fall in love at my age.”
“I don't think that Mrs. Jasher asks for impossibilities.”
The Professor rose briskly.
“I'll think over it,” said he. “Meanwhile, I am going to London.”
“When will you be back, father?”
“I can't say. Don't ask silly questions. I dislike being bound to time. I may be a week, and I may be only a few days. Things can go on here as usual, but if Hope comes to see you, ask Mrs. Jasher in, to play chaperon.”
Lucy consented to this suggestion, and Braddock went away to prepare for his departure. To get him off the was like launching a ship, as the entire household was at his swift heels, packing boxes, rugs, cutting sandwiches, him on with his overcoat and assisting him into the trap, which had been hastily sent for to the Inn. All the time Braddock talked and scolded and gave directions and left instructions, until every one was quite bewildered. Lucy and the servants all sighed with relief when they saw the trap disappear round the end of the road in the direction of Jessum. In addition to being a famous archaeologist, the Professor was assuredly a great nuisance to those who had to do with his whims and fancies.
For the next two or three days Lucy enjoyed herself in a quiet way with Archie. In spite of the lateness of the season, the weather was still fine, and the artist took the opportunity of the pale sunshine to a great deal of the scenery. Lucy attended him as a rule when he went abroad, and sometimes Mrs. Jasher, voluble and merry, would come along with them to play the part of chaperon. But the girl noticed that Mrs. Jasher's merriment was forced at times, and in the searching morning light she appeared to be quite old. Wrinkles showed themselves on her plump face and weary lines appeared round her mouth. Also, she was absent-minded while the lovers , and, when spoken to, would return to the present moment with a start. As the widow was now well off as regards money, and as her scheme to marry Braddock was well on the way to success—for Lucy had duly reported the Professor's attitude—it was difficult to understand why Mrs. Jasher should look so worried. One day Lucy to her on the subject. Random had strolled across the to look at Hope sketch, and the two men chatted together, while Miss Kendal led the little widow to one side.
“There is nothing the matter, I hope,” said Lucy gently.
“No. Why do you say that?” asked Mrs. Jasher, flushing.
“You have been looking worried for the last few days.”
“I have a few troubles,” sighed the widow—“troubles connected with the estate of my late brother. The lawyers are very disagreeable and make all sorts of difficulties to their costs. Then, strangely enough, I am beginning to feel my brother's death more than I thought I should have done. You see that I am in mourning, dear. After what you said the other day I felt that it was wrong for me not to wear mourning. Of course my poor brother and I were almost strangers. All the same, as he has left me money and was my only relative, I think it right to show some grief. I am a lonely woman, my dear.”
“When my father comes back you will no longer be lonely,” said Lucy.
“I hope not. I feel that I want a man to look after me. I told you that I desired to marry the Professor for his possible title and in order to form a and have some amusement and power. But also I want a companion for my old age. There is no denying,” added Mrs. Jasher with another sigh, “that I am growing old in spite of all the care I take. I am grateful for your friendship, dear. At one time I thought that you did not like me.”
“Oh, I think we get on very well together,” said Lucy somewhat evasively, for she did not want to say that she would make the widow an intimate friend, “and, as you know, I am quite pleased that you should marry my step-father.............