At Love's Cost

Stafford slept well, and was awake before Measom came to call him. It

was a warm and lovely morning, and Stafford's first thoughts flew to a

bath. He got into flannels, and found his way to the lake, and as he

expected, there was an elaborate and picturesque bathing-shed beside

the Swiss-looking boat-house, in which were an electric launch and

boats of all descriptions. There also was a boatman in attendance, with

huge towels on his arm.

"Did you expect me?" asked Stafford, as the man touched his hat and

opened the bathing-shed.

"Yes, sir; Sir Stephen sent down last night to say that you might come

down."

Stafford nodded. His father forgot nothing! The boatman rowed him out

into the lake and Stafford had a delightful swim. It reminded him of

Geneva, for the lake this morning was almost as clear and as vivid in

colouring: and that is saying a great deal.

The boatman, who watched his young master admiringly--for Stafford was

like a fish in the water--informed him that the launch would be ready

in a moment's notice, or the sailing boat either, for the matter of

that, if he should require them.

"I've another launch, a steamer, and larger than this, coming

to-morrow; and Sir Stephen told me to get some Canadian canoes, in case

you or any of the company that's coming should fancy them, sir."

As Stafford went up to the house in the exquisite "after-bath" frame of

mind, he met his father. The expression of Sir Stephen's face, which a

moment earlier, before he had turned the corner of the winding path,

had been grave and keen, and somewhat hard, softened, and his eyes lit

up with a smile which had no little of the boatman's admiration in it.

"Had a swim, my boy? Found everything right, I hope? I was just going

down to see."

"Yes, everything," replied Stafford. "I can't think how you have

managed to get it done in so short a time," he added, looking round at

the well-grown shrubs, the smooth paths and the plush-like lawns, which

all looked as if they had been in cultivation for years.

Sir Stephen shrugged his shoulders.

"It is all a question of money--and the right men," he said. "I always

work on the plan, and ask the questions: 'How soon, how much?' Then I

add ten per cent. to the contract price on condition that the time is

kept. I find 'time' penalties are no use: it breaks the contractor's

back; but the extra ten per cent. makes them hustle, as they say on the

'other side.' Have you seen the stables yet? But of course you haven't,

or I should have seen you there. I go down there every morning; not

because I understand much about horses, but because I'm fond of them.

That will be your department, my dear Stafford."