He could see that the young man was (to
say the least of it) not behaving fairly towards his _fiancée_, Elinor
Leyton, and he was determined to open his eyes to the true state of
affairs with regard to Harriet Brandt. He spent a sleepless night,
his last visit to Margaret’s suffering child having strengthened his
opinion as to her hopeless condition, and he lay awake wondering how
he should break the news to the poor young mother. He rose with the
intention of speaking to Ralph without delay, but he found it more
difficult to get a word with him than he had anticipated. The Gobelli
party had decided to start with the Brimonts that afternoon, and
Captain Pullen stuck to them the entire morning, ostensibly to assist
the Baroness in her preparations for departure, but in reality, as
anyone could see, to linger by the side of Miss Brandt. Miss Leyton
perceived her lover’s defalcation as plainly as the rest, but she was
too proud to make a hint upon the subject, even to Margaret Pullen. She
sat alone in the balcony, reading a book, and gave no sign of annoyance
or discomfiture. But a close observer might have seen the trembling of
her lip when she attempted to speak, and the fixed, white look upon her
face, which betrayed her inward anxiety. It made Margaret’s kind heart
ache to see her, and Dr. Phillips more indignant with Ralph Pullen than
before. The party for Brussels had arranged to travel by the three o’clock
train, and at the appointed time the doctor was ready in the balcony
to accompany them to the _entrepôt_. There were no cabs in Heyst, the
station being in the town. Luggage was conveyed backwards and forwards
in hand carts drawn by the porters, and travellers invariably walked
to their destination. The Baroness appeared dressed for her journey,
in an amazing gown of blue velvet, trimmed with rare Maltese lace,
with a heavy mantle over it, and a small hat on her head, which made
her round, flat, unmeaning face, look coarser than before. She used
the Herr Baron as a walking-stick as usual, whilst Harriet Brandt, in
a white frock and large hat shading her glowing eyes under a scarlet
parasol, looked like a tropical bird skimming by her side, with Captain
Pullen in close attendance, carrying a flimsy wrap in case she
should require it before she reached her journey’s end. The Brimonts,
following in the rear, were of no account beside their more brilliant
and important friends. Ralph Pullen did not look pleased when he saw Doctor Phillips join the
party. “Are you also going to the _entrepôt_?” he exclaimed, “what can you
find to interest you there?--a dirty little smutty place! I am going
just to help the ladies over the line, as there is no bridge for
crossing.”

“Perhaps I am bent on the same errand,” replied the doctor, “do you
give me credit for less gallantry than yourself, Pullen?”

“That’s right, Doctor,” said the Baroness, “and I’ve no doubt you’ll be
very useful! My Bobby ain’t any manner of good, and the Baron ’as so
many traps to carry that ’e ’asn’t got an arm to spare. I only wish you
were coming with us! Why don’t you make up your mind to come over with
Captain Pullen the day after to-morrow, and ’ave a little ’oliday?”

“I was not aware that Captain Pullen _was_ going to Brussels, madame! I
fancy he will have to get Miss Leyton’s consent first!”

At the mention of Miss Leyton’s name in connection with himself, Ralph
Pullen flushed uneasily, and Harriet Brandt turned a look of startled
enquiry upon the speaker. “O! ’ang Miss Leyton!” retorted the Baroness, graphically, “she surely
wouldn’t stop Captain Pullen’s fun, just because ’e’s staying with ’is
sister-in-law! I should call that very ’ard. You can’t always tie a
young man to ’is relations’ apron-strings, Doctor!”

“Not always, madame!” he replied, and dropped the subject. “You wouldn’t let Miss Leyton or Mrs. Pullen keep you from me!”
whispered Harriet, to her cavalier. “Never!” he answered emphatically. They had reached the little station by this time, and the porters
were calling out vociferously that the train was about to start
for Brussels, so that in the hurry of procuring their tickets, and
conveying the ladies and the luggage across the cinder-besprinkled
line, to where the train stood puffing to be off, there was no more
time to exchange sentimentalities, or excite suspicion. The party
being safely stowed away in their carriage, Ralph Pullen and Doctor
Phillips stood on the wooden platform with their hats off, bowing their
farewells. “Mind you don’t put off your coming after Thursday!” screamed the
Baroness to Ralph, as she filled up the entire window with her bulky
person, “we shall expect you by dinner-time! And I shall bespeak a
room for you, whether you will or no! ’Arriet ’ere will break ’er
’eart if you don’t turn up, and I don’t want the responsibility of ’er
committing suicide on my ’ands!”

“All right! all right!” responded Ralph, pretending to turn it off as a
joke, “None of you shall do that on my account, I promise you!”

“O! well! I ’ope you’re going to keep your word, or we shall come back
to ’Eyst in double quick time. Good-bye! Good-bye!” and kissing her fat
hand to the two gentlemen, the Baroness was whisked out of Heyst. Ralph looked longingly after the departing line of carriages for a
minute, and then crossed the line again to the road beyond. Doctor Phillips did not say a word till they were well clear of the
station, and then he commenced,

“Of course you’re not in earnest about following these people to
Brussels.”

“Why should I not be? I knew Brussels well as a lad, and I should enjoy
renewing my acquaintance with the old town.”

“In proper company perhaps, but you can hardly call that party a fit
one for you to associate with!”

“You’re alluding to the Baron and Baroness being in trade. Well! as
a rule I confess that I do not care to associate intimately with
bootmakers and their friends, but one does things abroad that one
would not dream of doing in England. And for all her vulgarity, Madame
Gobelli is very good-natured and generous, and I really don’t see that
I lower my dignity by being on friendly terms with her whilst here!”

“I was not alluding to Madame Gobelli, though I do not think that
either she or the Brimonts are fit companions for a man who belongs
to the Limerick Rangers, or is engaged to marry the daughter of Lord
Walthamstowe. Neither do I admire the spirit which would induce you
to hobnob with them in Heyst, when you would cut them in Bond Street. But as far as I know the Baron and his wife are harmless. It is Miss
Harriet Brandt that I would caution you against!”

A quick resentment appeared on Ralph Pullen’s features. His eyes
darkened, and an ominous wrinkle stood out on his brow. “And what may you have to say of Miss Brandt?” he demanded, coldly. “A great deal more than you know, or can possibly imagine!