"Father, please, this is no time for old and foolish animosities. Guy's
life is at stake, through his noble, perhaps exaggerated, sense of
honour. You and I are powerless to alter his determination. There is
just a chance that Isobel will be more successful. Will you put your
pride in your pocket and ask her to plead with him?"
It was a hard struggle, but in the end Lord Saxham's affection for his
son won. The old aristocrat gave in.
"Do what you like, Mary. I will consent to anything to get Guy back."
Mary moved swiftly to the writing-table. "I shall ask her and her
father to come to us to-morrow for a visit with the view of your
sanctioning her engagement to Guy. I shall ask her to wire their
acceptance."
The Earl sat as in a dream, while she wrote; dimly he realised that
events had taken a turn which he could not approve. But there was no
other course left. Mary's letter was brief.
"My Dearest Isobel,--My father has consented to approve your engagement
to Guy. We shall both be delighted if you and General Clandon will pay
us a visit. Please come to-morrow, if possible. In that case, send me
a wire on receipt of this note.
"Yours affectionately,
"Mary Rossett."
Isobel received that letter next morning. She carried it to her father
with shining eyes.
The General read it, and kissed her.
"Good news, indeed, my dear little girl. Lady Mary seems a witch, and
able to work miracles."
"Oh, isn't she a darling?" cried Isobel enthusiastically. "Shall I send
the wire at once?" The wire was sent. Poor Isobel was a little
distressed about the scantiness of her wardrobe. But she took heart of
grace when she reflected that this was sure to be quite a private visit.
It was not likely there would be other guests on such an especially
family occasion.
Lady Mary met them at the station. She kissed Isobel affectionately,
and shook the General, who looked very aristocratic and dignified,
warmly by the hand.
"How did you manage it, you darling?" whispered Isobel as they sat
together in the car.
"Circumstances went in my favour; it is not quite entirely due to my own
diplomacy," answered Mary a little shyly. She knew that, in a way, she
had struck a bargain with her aristocratic and obstinate old father, the
chance of saving Guy against his indomitable pride.
And she knew also that Isobel's faithful heart would be very wounded
when she learned the fact of her sweetheart's peril.
"You will know all about it after dinner to-night," she added evasively.
"You must rein in your impatience till then."
Isobel smiled happily. The world was rose-coloured to-day. Was not the
last obstacle to her happiness removed? Would not her beloved Guy marry
her in the sight of the whole world? His world as well as her own?
Lord Saxham was awaiting them in the big hall, having now fully
reconciled himself to the situation. He had many faults; he was
choleric, obstinate, and a good deal of an opportunist. But whatever
line of action he took, even if he somewhat stultified himself in the
process, he always bore himself with a certain dignity.
His meeting with the Clandons was expressive of his methods. He held
out his right hand cordially to the General. With his left he drew
Isobel towards him, and printed a fatherly kiss upon her forehead.
"Welcome to Ticehurst, my dear child, which henceforth you must look
upon as a second home. If Guy were here to-day our happiness would be
complete."
The warm-hearted Isobel was ready to burst into tears. The Earl was
behaving like a gentleman; she forgave him his former obduracy. After
all, was it not natural that he should wish Guy to marry a woman in his
own world?
They had a very elaborate dinner, to which the host and the General did
full justice. Isobel was too happy to care about food. Lady Mary ate
just enough to keep her alive, according to her usual custom.
After dinner they went into one of the small drawing-rooms. Here Lord
Saxham, in very happy phrases, expressed his cordial consent to the
engagement between Guy and Isobel. The men shook hands, the two girls
kissed each other. It was a charming family scene.
And then, in a manner, the real business of the evening began. Lady
Mary began to explain things in a low and hesitating voice, that often
faltered.
She felt just a little ashamed of her task. Isobel was quite innocent,
but she was not without brains. The General, she was sure, was quite
keen. When she finished her recital, she knew both father and daughter
would attribute the Earl's sudden conversion to its proper cause.
But Mary had not quite finished, when the Earl broke in, in his usual
impetuous way.
"You see, Isobel,"--he had by now taken quite whole-heartedly to the
idea of her as his daughter-in-law--"we must have Guy back as quickly as
possible. At the present moment, you are the person who has the
greatest influence over him. No doubt, at a word from you he will
come."
Isobel indulged in a rather forced smile; it struck Mary that there was
something a little enigmatic in that smile. Of course, Lord Saxham had
blundered as usual, he had revealed the truth just a little too nakedly.
Isobel was reckoning up her welcome at its true value, so far as her
host was concerned.
This, of course, Isobel did, so did her father. But she was too
sensible a girl to be offended. She, was, perhaps, a little
disappointed that she did not owe this swift change of policy to her
true friend. Lady Mary.
She thought a little before she spoke. "Are you quite sure that Guy
would come back, if I implored him to do so," she said at length.
She turned towards Lord Saxham with a pleasant smile that robbed her
words of any subtle impertinence.
"Guy has always told me that there is a strong vein of obstinacy in the
Rossett family. Perhaps,"--and here a proud light came into her
eyes--"I could influence him more than anybody else in the world."
Mary looked imploringly at her.
"And, Isobel, you will use that influence of course?"
"I will tell you something that, up to the present, I have only told my
father," replied the girl quietly. "I knew of all this some little time
ago. My cousin, Maurice Farquhar, has a great friend, half Spanish,
half English, who is also a journalist. He told my cousin that danger
was threatening Guy. Maurice told me. You can guess what I felt. Guy
is as dear to me as he is to you."
"Of course, there is no need to tell us that," cried Lady Mary hastily.
"My first impulse was to write to Guy, tell him what I had heard, and
implore him to leave this dangerous country. I consulted my father. I
did not write that letter. Many a night I have lain awake, and in the
morning resolved to write it. It is still unwritten."
The Earl's face bore a puzzled expression. Lady Mary seemed somewhat
bewildered too. General Clandon alone displayed no emotion.
"I don't understand," breathed Mary softly.
"Oh, can't you see?" cried Isobel quickly. "Suppose Guy yielded to my
prayers, and seized some excuse to come back! Might he not in after
years reproach me for having induced him to play a coward's part?
Surely you can understand what I feel."
And, in one swift moment of comprehension, the worldly and opportunist
Earl and his far nobler daughter understood.
Lady Mary looked at her father with a triumphant smile. She had gauged
Isobel aright from the first.
Gone for ever the dishonouring suspicions of a designing young woman
seeking to make her fortune by a wealthy marriage. It was all too
obvious. With Guy's departure from Spain, Isobel had everything to
gain. With his sojourn in that dangerous country she stood to lose
everything.
"Whether I marry Guy or not," went on the low, sweet voice, breaking at
the end into a little sob, "his honour is my first consideration."
The General's deep tones broke the intense silence that succeeded those
few words.
"Lord Saxham, Lady Mary, I most heartily approve Isobel's attitude. I
am sure Mr Rossett feels as I do in this matter. If he deserted his
post at this juncture, he would be like the soldier who runs away on the
battlefield."
Lord Saxham looked at the beautiful, slender girl, so noble in her
self-sacrificing love.
"My dear," he said, in tones that were a little unsteady, "you are a
wonderful woman. Guy could not have chosen more wisely. I am sorry--
very sorry--" He broke off. It was not perhaps precisely the moment to
apologise for his previous obstinacy, his rancour against "the little
girl who lived in a cottage at Eastbourne."
Lady Mary went round the table, put her arms round her, and kissed her
warmly.
"You are a brave and beautiful darling," she said, with a woman's
enthusiasm. "You have taught both my father and myself a lesson in
unselfishness. God grant that our dear Guy comes back to us safe and
sound."