THE ROYAL ENTERPRISE
The mellow-toned grandfather clock in the corner chimed out the
stroke of nine-thirty as Guy crossed the hall with a bundle of papers
in his hand. He had reached the foot of the banisters and was
preparing to ascend, when his progress was brought to a sudden
standstill.
Coming down the broad oak staircase, with the inevitable cigarette
between his lips, was the smiling and fully dressed figure of Sir
Antony Conway.
Guy stared at him incredulously.
"Good gracious, Tony!" he observed. "Do you mean to say you have got
up to breakfast two days running?"
"I have," said Tony with some dignity. "As the prospective member
for Balham North, I feel it's my duty to be thoroughly English." He
reached the bottom of the stairs and slipped his arm through his
cousin's. "I have told Spalding that I will have porridge, eggs and
bacon, marmalade, and a copy of the _Times_," he added. "Come along
into the study and help me to face them."
"Well, I am pretty busy this morning," said Guy, "but I would
sacrifice a good deal for the sake of seeing you reading the _Times_
and eating a proper healthy breakfast."
"Oh, I don't suppose I shall go as far as that," said Tony. "I shall
probably only look at them. There is no point in carrying things to
extremes."
He pushed open the door of the study, where they discovered Spalding
in the act of putting the finishing touches to a charmingly appointed
breakfast table.
With a final glance of approval at his handiwork, that well-trained
servitor stepped back and pulled out a chair for Tony.
"Is everything ready?" inquired the latter.
"Quite ready, Sir Antony," replied Spalding. "The copy of the
_Times_ is beside your plate, sir. You will find the engineering
supplement inside."
He brought up another chair for Guy, and then retiring to a small
electric lift in the wall, produced the eggs and bacon and porridge
which he placed on the sideboard upon a couple of carefully trimmed
and already lighted spirit stoves.
"You needn't wait, Spalding," said Tony. "I like to help myself at
breakfast; it's more in keeping with the best English traditions."
Spalding bowed, and crossing to the door closed it noiselessly behind
him.
Tony began leisurely to pour himself out a cup of tea.
"I suppose you have had your breakfast, Guy?" he observed.
The latter nodded. "I have," he said, "but if you are going to keep
up this excellent habit of early rising, I shall wait for you in
future."
"Yes, do," said Tony. "Then we can read out the best bits in the
_Times_ to each other. Henry and Laura do it every morning at
breakfast." He took a sip out of the cup and lighted himself a fresh
cigarette. "By the way," he added. "I am going to meet them at
lunch to-day."
"Where?" inquired Guy.
"At Aunt Fanny's. She sent me a sort of S.O.S. call this morning
saying that they were coming and imploring help. I can't leave her
alone with them. She is getting too old for really hard work."
"I believe Aunt Fanny deliberately encourages you to laugh at them,"
said Guy severely.
"I don't want any encouragement," protested Tony, helping himself to
a delicately browned piece of toast.
"If I didn't laugh at Laura I should weep."
"You would do much better if you listened a bit more to what they
said. But of course it's no use offering you any advice."
"Oh, yes, it is," said Tony. "That's where you wrong me." He leaned
back in his chair and looked mischievously across at his cousin. "I
pay the most careful attention to everything you tell me, Guy. At
the present moment I am seriously thinking of following some advice
you gave me yesterday."
"What about?" asked Guy suspiciously.
Tony broke off a little piece of toast and crunched it thoughtfully
between his teeth.
"About Cousin Isabel," he replied.
Something remarkably like a faint flush of colour mounted into Guy's
face.
"Really!" he observed with an admirable indifference.
Tony nodded gently. "Certain things which have come to my knowledge
since have made me feel that perhaps you were right in what you said.
I doubt whether I should be justified in risking my political career
for the sake of a passing whim. After all one has to think of the
country."
Guy looked at him with mistrust. "You don't suppose I shall swallow
that," he observed.
"It doesn't matter," said Tony sadly. "I am used to being
misunderstood." He paused. "What did you think of Isabel?" he asked.
Guy was evidently prepared for the question. "I was pleasantly
surprised with her," he admitted. "She seemed to me a very
attractive girl, and I should think quite straightforward."
Again Tony nodded his head. "Yes," he said, "I think that's true.
It makes me all the more sorry I can't go on helping her."
"Can't go on helping her!" repeated Guy. "What do you mean?"
"Well, she told me her history yesterday, and it's not at all the
sort of thing a rising young politician ought to be mixed up with.
She admitted as much herself. I am afraid the only thing to do is to
get rid of her as quickly as we can."
Guy sat up indignantly. "I don't know what you are talking about,"
he said, "but I am quite sure you have misunderstood her in some way
or other. Anyhow what you suggest is impossible. You can't pick up
people and drop them again in this thoughtless and selfish fashion.
What's the girl to do? You have chosen to make yourself responsible
for her, and you must arrange to send her back to her people--or
something."
"Unfortunately," said Tony, "there are difficulties in the way. Her
father and mother are both dead, and her nearest relations are all
out of work for the moment."
"Has she any profession?" asked Guy.
Tony nodded.
"Yes, she's a queen."
There was a short silence. "A _what_?" demanded Guy.
"A queen!" repeated Tony. "It's not a profession that I altogether
approve of for women, but she had been brought up to it, and----"
Guy pushed back his chair. "Look here, Tony," he exclaimed, "what on
earth are you talking about?"
Tony raised his eyebrows. "Isabel," he explained patiently. "Cousin
Isabel. The nice little red-haired girl you were teaching gardening
to yesterday. She is the only daughter of that late lamented
inebriate--Don Francisco of Livadia."
With a startled ejaculation Guy suddenly sat up straight in his
chair. He opened his mouth as if to speak, but nothing intelligible
seemed to suggest itself.
"Furthermore," pursued Tony tranquilly, "she is the affianced wife of
our illustrious little pal King Pedro the Fifth. That of course
explains why she has run away."
By a supreme effort Guy succeeded in regaining his lost powers of
conversation. His face was a beautiful study in amazement, dismay,
and incredulity.
"But--but--Good Heavens!" he gasped; "This can't be true! You must
be joking!"
"Joking!" repeated Tony sternly. "Of course I'm not joking. No
respectable Englishman ever jokes at breakfast."
Guy threw up his hands with a gesture that was almost tragic.
"Well, if it's true," he observed, "you have just about gone and done
it this time with a vengeance." He got up from his seat, took a
couple of agitated paces towards the window, and then came back to
the table where the future member for Balham North was still placidly
munching his toast. "Good Lord, Tony!" he exclaimed; "don't you
understand what a serious matter this is?"
"Of course I do," said Tony. "You don't suppose I would talk about
it at breakfast otherwise."
"It's more than serious," continued Guy in a strained voice.
"It's--it's the most unholy mess that even you have ever mixed
yourself up in. If this girl is really who you say she is, we shall
have the whole diplomatic service tumbling over themselves to find
her." He paused. "For goodness' sake tell me the whole story at
once; there may possibly be some way out of it after all."
"I don't think there is," said Tony contentedly. "Of course I could
desert Isabel, but as you have just pointed out to me, that would be
very brutal and dishonourable. Anyhow, if you will take a pew and
try and look a little less like Sarah Bernhardt, I'll tell you
exactly how things stand. Then you can judge for yourself."
Guy resumed his seat, and after pausing to light himself a third
cigarette, Tony began to repeat Isabel's romantic history, more or
less as she had described it to him at Cookham on the previous day.
There was a leisurely style about his method that must have been
somewhat provoking to Guy, whose anxiety to hear the whole truth
seemed to be of a painful intensity. Tony, however, proceeded in his
own unhurried fashion, and by a masterly exhibition of self-control
Guy refrained from any comment or interruption until the entire story
was told.
Then he sat back in his chair with the stony expression of one who
has learnt the worst.
Tony looked at him sympathetically. "One can't very well get out of
it, can one, Guy?" he observed. "Of course I might give Isabel a
week's notice, but after the bitter and scornful way you spoke to me
just now about my selfishness I should hardly like to do that.
Besides, as a moral man I strongly disapprove of Pedro's intentions.
I think nobody should be allowed to marry who has not led a perfectly
pure life."
"Oh, shut up," said Guy; "shut up and let me think." He buried his
forehead in his hands for a moment or two, and then looked up again
with such a harassed appearance that Tony felt quite sorry for him.
"It's--it's worse than I thought," he added despairingly. "What on
earth do you imagine is going to be the end of it?"
"I haven't the remotest notion," admitted Tony cheerfully. "The only
thing I have quite made up my mind about is that Isabel shan't be
forced into marrying Pedro."
"I agree with you there," said Guy with sudden warmth. "It's an
infamous proposal. I can't see what's at the bottom of it either
unless there is still a party in Livadia who believe in her father's
claim. I thought they were pretty well extinct." He paused for a
moment, his brow puckered in deep and anxious reflection. "Anyhow,"
he added, "you have put yourself into a frightfully delicate
position. Da Freitas will move heaven and earth to find the girl,
and you can be quite sure he will get any possible assistance he asks
for from our people."
"I don't believe he'll ask for any," said Tony. "I've got a notion
that they want to keep this marriage business as quiet as possible.
Why should they have tried to rush it so, otherwise? If that's right
they will probably be only too anxious to keep the police out of it,
especially since they have seen Isabel with me."
"But do you think her uncle recognized you?"
"Can't say," replied Tony tranquilly. "He only saw me for a second
in the hall of the Club, and he was so agitated then that even a
beautiful face like mine might have escaped him. Still I should
think they were bound to get on our track sooner or later. That's
the worst of a carelessly built place like London. One always runs
into the people one doesn't want to meet."
"There are those other men too," said Guy, who was evidently
pondering each point in the problem--"the men who are following her
about. What do you make of them?"
"I shall have to make an example of them," said Tony firmly. "I
really can't have dirty foreigners hanging about outside my house.
It's so bad for one's reputation."
"Oh, do be serious for a moment," pleaded Guy almost angrily. "We
are in this business now, and----"
"_We!_" echoed Tony with pleasure. "My dear Guy! Do you really mean
that you're going to lend us your powerful aid?"
"Of course I am," said Guy impatiently. "I think you were very
foolish to mix yourself up in the affair at all, but since you have
chosen to do it, you don't suppose that I shall desert you. If ever
you wanted assistance I should say you did now."
Tony leaned across, and taking his cousin's hand, shook it warmly
over the breakfast table.
"Dear old Guy," he observed. "I always thought that under a rather
forbidding exterior you concealed the heart of a true sportsman."
"Nonsense," returned Guy. "I am your secretary, and it's my business
to look after you when you make an idiot of yourself." He paused.
"Besides," he added, "there is the girl to be considered."
Tony nodded. "Yes," he said, "we must consider Isabel. By the way I
have never thanked you for being so nice to her yesterday. She told
me that you were perfectly charming."
For a second time Guy's face assumed a faint tinge of colour.
"One couldn't help feeling sorry for the child when one spoke to
her," he said stiffly. "It appears to be no fault of her own that
she has been put in this impossible position." He hesitated for a
moment. "I hope to goodness, Tony," he added, "that you--you----"
Tony laughed softly. "It's quite all right," he said. "Don't be
alarmed, Guy. My feelings towards Isabel are as innocent as the
dawn." He glanced at the slim gold watch that he wore on his wrist,
and then in a leisurely fashion got up from his chair. "I hate to
break up this charming breakfast party," he said, "but I must be off.
I am going to look up Isabel on my way to Aunt Fanny's. I want to
see how many intruding strangers Bugg has murdered in the night."
Guy also rose to his feet.
"I say, Tony," he said. "Let us understand each other quite clearly.
However you choose to look at it, this is an uncommonly serious
business--and there are some very ugly possibilities in it. We can't
afford to treat it as a joke--not if you really want to keep Isabel
out of these people's hands."
Tony nodded his head. "I know that, Guy," he said. "I can't help my
incurable light-heartedness, but I can assure you that Cousin Henry
himself couldn't be more deadly serious about it than I am. I
promise you faithfully I won't play the fool."
"Right you are," said Guy. "In that case you can count on me to the
utmost."
It was about a quarter of an hour later when Tony pulled up the big
Peugot outside Mrs. Spalding's, and climbing down from his seat
pushed open the gate. As he did so the door of the house was opened
in turn by Bugg, who presented a singularly spruce and animated
appearance. His hair had evidently been brushed and brilliantined
with extreme care, and he was wearing a tight-fitting black and white
check suit that reminded one of a carefully made draught-board.
"Good-morning, Bugg," said Tony, as he came up the steps. "You look
very beautiful."
Bugg saluted with a slightly embarrassed smile.
"I brought along me Sunday togs, Sir Ant'ny; seein' as 'ow I was to
be livin' in the 'ouse with two ladies."
"Quite right, Bugg," said Tony approvingly. "It's just that
thoughtfulness in small matters that makes the true artist in life."
He paused to pull off his driving gloves. "Is there any news?" he
asked.
Bugg cast a quick warning glance over his shoulder into the house.
"'Ere's the young laidy, sir," he replied in a hoarse whisper. "See
yer ahtside after."
He moved away as Isabel came lightly down the stairs, and advanced
along the passage to meet them.
She greeted Tony with just the faintest touch of shyness, and then
led the way into the small sitting-room on the right.
Here she held out her hand to him, and bowing over it with extreme
gravity, Tony kissed the pink tip of one of her fingers.
"I trust your Majesty slept well?" he observed.
She pulled away her hand. "Oh, please don't tease me," she said.
"You can't imagine how funny I feel about it all." She paused. "If
we hadn't met Uncle Philip yesterday, I believe I should have begun
to think the whole thing was a dream."
"Perhaps it is," said Tony. "Personally I shouldn't be a bit
surprised if I woke up and found Spalding standing by my bed with a
cup of tea."
"It doesn't matter really anyway," said Isabel, "because we are all
dreaming the same thing, aren't we? You and I and Bugg, and--and
your cousin Mr. Guy."
"Guy certainly is," answered Tony. "You have made a positively
devastating conquest of poor Guy. How on earth did you manage to do
it?"
Isabel opened her amber eyes. "I don't know," she said innocently.
"He was very nice and kind. I only talked to him and smiled at him."
"Ah, that accounts for it," said Tony solemnly.
He put his hat down and seated himself on the sofa. "You really
ought to be more careful," he added. "It isn't fair to go about
bewitching respectable secretaries. You never know what they may
turn into."
"Have you told him?" asked Isabel.
"Everything," said Tony. "He is yearning to plunge into the fray and
re-seat you on the throne of Livadia. I left him practising sword
exercises in the hall."
Isabel laughed, and opening the bag that was lying on the table
beside her took out a little silver cigarette case, which she offered
to Tony.
"Do have one," she said. "I bought it yesterday afternoon out of the
money you gave me. It was very extravagant, but I love shopping.
You see I have not been allowed to do any in London."
Tony, who never smoked anything but Virginian tobacco, helped himself
bravely to a gold tipped product of the Turkish Empire, and lit it
with apparent zest.
"All the truest pleasure in life comes from doing things one hasn't
been allowed to do," he observed. "To enjoy anything properly one
ought to go in for a long course of self-denial first."
"I--I suppose you're right," said Isabel doubtfully, "but it's rather
difficult, isn't it?"
"I should think it was," said Tony. "I have never tried it myself."
He felt in his pocket for a moment, and then pulled out a cheque
book, which bore the stamped address of the same Hampstead bank at
which he kept his own account.
"This is yours, Isabel," he said handing it across to her. "I have
paid the money I got for the brooch into your account, so you can go
on shopping as long and fiercely as you like. Do you know how to
draw a cheque?"
Isabel nodded. "Oh, yes," she said. "You just fill it in and write
your name at the bottom, and then they give you the money. It's
quite easy, isn't it."
"Quite," said Tony. "All real miracles are."
Isabel slipped away the cheque book into her bag. Then she looked at
Tony with that half childish and wholly delightful smile of hers.
"Now I am rich," she said. "I can begin entertaining." She
hesitated. "Should I be doing anything very dreadful--I--I mean from
the English point of view--if I asked you to come and have dinner
with me somewhere to-night?"
"Of course you wouldn't," said Tony firmly. "A queen has an
absolutely free hand about things like that. It's what is called the
Royal Prerogative. There is a well established precedent in the case
of Queen Elizabeth and the Earl of Leicester."
"That's all right then," said Isabel in a relieved voice. "What time
will you come?"
"Quite early," said Tony. "In fact I think I will come to tea if I
may. I am lunching with Cousin Henry and his wife and that always
makes me thirsty." He glanced at his watch, and then got up from the
sofa. "I mustn't stop any longer now," he added. "I have several
things to do before I get to Chester Square, and it's so rude to keep
people waiting for lunch. Besides it spoils the lunch."
Isabel laughed happily, and rising to her feet gave him her hand
again--this time with little or no trace of her former shyness.
Indeed it was difficult to be shy with Tony for any very extended
period.
"I will see that you have some nice tea anyway," she said. "I will
make it for you myself."
Tony paused for a moment on the threshold of the house to exchange
his Turkish cigarette for a Virginian, and then strolled off down the
garden towards the gate. As he approached the latter it was opened
for him by "Tiger" Bugg, who had apparently been waiting patiently
beside the car.
"Don't look hup, sir," observed that distinguished welter-weight in a
low earnest voice. "Jest carry on saime as if we was talkin' abaht
nothin' partic'lar."
With an air of complete indifference Tony strolled across the
pavement to the front of the car and lifted up the bonnet. Bugg
followed, and bent over the exposed engine beside him, as though
pointing out some minor deficiency.
"There's one of them blokes watchin' of us," continued "Tiger" in the
same confidential tone. "'E's be'ind the fence opposite. Bin
'anging arahnd 'ere all the blinkin' morning."
"Really!" said Tony gently. "Which of them is it?"
"It's the shorter one, sir. The one I give that flip in the jaw to.
I seen 'im w'en I come aht o' the front door this mornin'. 'E was
doin' a sorter boy scout stunt be'ind the bushes, and I 'ad 'alf a
mind to land 'im with one o' them loose bricks. Then I remembers wot
you'd said yesterday--abaht lyin' low like--so I jest 'urns a toon
and pretends I 'adn't spotted 'im."
"You have the true instincts of a sleuth, Bugg," observed Tony
approvingly.
"I shouldn't be 'alf surprised if they was both abaht somewhere,"
went on the gratified "Tiger" in a hoarse whisper. "It's my belief,
sir, that they mean to 'ang arahnd until they sees a chance of
gettin' at the young laidy without no interruptions from us. I'd bet
a dollar that if I was to clear off the plaice for 'arf an hour,
they'd be shovin' their dirty selves into the 'ouse all
right--some'ow or other."
"By Jove!" exclaimed Tony softly. "You have given me an idea,
Bugg--a brilliant idea."
He continued to reflect in silence for a moment or two, and then at
last he shut down the bonnet with that particularly pleasant smile of
his which Guy always declared to be the sure harbinger of approaching
trouble.
"I shall return about four o'clock, Bugg," he said. "I think we may
have an interesting and instructive afternoon ahead of us--thanks to
you."
Bugg sighed happily. "I'll be 'ere, sir," he observed. "I'd like to
see that there tall bloke again. I 'ate leavin' a job 'alf finished."
"And meanwhile," said Tony, "take particular care of Miss Francis.
It's quite possible there may be somebody else wanting to speak to
her privately besides our pals opposite."
Bugg's eyes gleamed. "It don't make no difference to me, sir, 'ow
many of 'em there is. Nothin' doin'. That's my motter as far as
visitors goes."
Tony nodded approvingly, and entering the car started off down the
hill, leaving Bugg standing grimly at the gate, in an attitude that
must have been deeply discouraging to any concealed gentleman who
might be hoping for an early entrance.
After visiting his tailor in Sackville Street, and discharging one or
two other less momentous duties, Tony made his way to Chester Square,
where he pulled up outside Lady Jocelyn's house, exactly as the clock
of St. Peter's was striking one-thirty.
Punctual as he was Laura and Henry had arrived before him. He heard
the former's rich contralto voice in full swing as the maid preceded
him up the staircase, and it was with that vague feeling of
depression the sound invariably inspired in him that he entered the
charmingly furnished little drawing-room.
Lady Jocelyn, who looked rather like an old ivory miniature, was
sitting on the sofa, and going up to her Tony bent over and kissed
her affectionately. Then he shook hands with both his cousins.
"I have been hearing the most wonderful things about you, Tony," said
Lady Jocelyn. "If I didn't dislike veal so much I should certainly
have killed the fatted calf for lunch. Is it really true that you
are going to become the member for--for--where is it, Laura?"
"Balham North," remarked Laura firmly.
She was a tall fair-haired lady, with thin lips, a masterful nose,
and a pair of relentless blue eyes.
"I believe it's quite true, Aunt Fanny," returned Tony. "In fact I
understand it has all been arranged except for the formality of
consulting the natives."
"How splendid," said Lady Jocelyn. "And who are the natives? I
always thought Balham was still unexplored."
Tony shook his head. "Oh, no," he said. "Henry has been right into
the interior. He can even speak the language--can't you, Henry?"
"There is nothing to laugh at about Balham," said Henry a little
stiffly. "It is one of the best residential suburbs in London."
"And extremely well educated politically," put in Laura in her clear
incisive voice. "I have been looking into the matter, and I find
that our various temperance and purity leagues have no less than
seven branches there, and that the reports from all of them are
distinctly encouraging. On the whole I regard it as one of the must
hopeful constituencies in London."
Lady Jocelyn looked a little puzzled. "What do they hope for?" she
inquired.
"Lunch, m'lady," remarked the parlour-maid, opening the door.
"In that case," said Tony gravely, "they couldn't have chosen a more
efficient representative."
Like the wise woman she was, Lady Jocelyn always had an excellent
cook, and a single glance at the menu as they settled themselves down
round the table had an inspiriting effect upon the entire party.
Even Laura was not wholly exempt from its influence. Though a stern
advocate of the superior food value of lentils and beans as far as
the poor were concerned, she herself had a very handsome appreciation
for the less scientific forms of diet. She ate with enthusiasm and
staying power; after a second helping of mousse of ham and cold
asparagus, she became more affable than Tony had ever seen her.
"I can hardly describe the satisfaction that Tony's decision to stand
has given to Henry and me," she observed to Lady Jocelyn. "We have
been trying for years to persuade him to do something worthy of his
position. A life of empty pleasure is such an appallingly bad
example for the poor."
"I am not quite sure that I agree with you there," said Tony. "I
believe the possibility of being able to live eventually in complete
idleness is one of the few real incentives to hard work. There ought
to be one or two examples about, so that people can realize how
pleasant that sort of life is."
"You have done your share, Tony," said Lady Jocelyn consolingly.
"You will be able to go to sleep in the House of Commons with a
perfectly clear conscience."
"Of course you are joking, Aunt Fanny," said Henry. "You are much
too well informed to believe that sort of nonsense. I doubt if there
is a more arduous profession in the world than being a member of
Parliament--provided of course that a man takes his work seriously.
Tony has promised us that he will do that."
"And we shall be there to keep him up to it," added Laura crisply.
Lady Jocelyn looked at Tony with some sympathy. "I only hope he
won't break down," she said. "It's not everyone who can stand these
severe strains."
"Oh, Tony's as sound as a bell," returned Henry a little
contemptuously. "Hard work will do him all the good in the
world--it's just what he wants. I have been advising him to take up
some special subject and master it thoroughly before he goes into the
House. It's the only way to get on quickly nowadays." He turned to
Tony. "Have you thought that over at all yet? I mean do you feel a
special leaning towards any particular question?"
Tony took a long drink of champagne and put down his glass.
"Yes, Henry," he said, "during the last two days I have discovered
that foreign politics have a remarkable attraction for me."
"Foreign politics!" repeated Henry. "Well, they're an interesting
subject, but I should have thought you would have found them a little
too--too--what shall we say--too remote."
Tony shook his head. "No," he said, "I haven't found that. Of
course I don't know very much about them yet, but I expect to be
learning quite a lot before long."
"Well, that's the right spirit anyway," said Henry heartily. "When I
get back I will instruct my secretary to send you along some White
Books to study. Remember if there is anything we can do to help
you--introductions you would like or anything of that sort--don't
hesitate to ask us."
"I won't," said Tony.
Harmoniously as matters had been proceeding up to this point, the
remainder of the lunch party was even more of a pronounced success.
It was evident that Tony's sudden and surprising absorption in world
politics was highly approved of both by Henry and Laura, who seemed
to regard it as a sign that he was beginning to take his
Parliamentary career with becoming seriousness. If at times old Lady
Jocelyn's twinkling black eyes suggested a certain amount of
scepticism in the matter, she at least said nothing to disturb this
pleasant impression, while Tony himself sustained his new rôle with
that imperturbable ease of manner which never seemed to desert him.
It was nearly half-past three before Laura and Henry rose to go, and
then they took their leave with an approving friendliness that
reminded one of a tutor saying good-bye to a promising pupil.
"I will have those White Books sent round at once," said Henry,
warmly shaking his cousin's hand. "There is a new one just issued
dealing with the Patagonia boundary dispute. You will find it most
interesting."
"It sounds ripping," said Tony.
"And you needn't worry a bit about your election," added Laura.
"Henry's seat is so safe that I shall be able to give up my entire
time to helping you."
"That _will_ be nice, won't it, Tony?" said Lady Jocelyn innocently.
She rose to her feet with the aid of her ebony stick, and taking
Henry's arm accompanied him and Laura to the head of the staircase,
where she said good-bye to them both. She then came back into the
room, and closing the door behind her, shook her head slowly and
reprovingly at the future member for Balham North.
"I should like to know exactly what pleasant surprise you are
preparing for them, Tony," she said.
Tony came up, and putting his arm round her, conducted her gently to
her customary place on the sofa.
"I wonder if the Prodigal Son had a sceptical aunt?" he said sadly.
With a little chuckle Lady Jocelyn settled herself into her seat.
"Probably," she replied; "and if she carved the veal I have no doubt
she gave him the best helping."
Tony stood back and surveyed her affectionately. "Do you know what
an Enterprise is, Aunt Fanny?" he asked. "An Enterprise with a large
capital E at the beginning?"
Lady Jocelyn looked up at him with an air of mild surprise.
"I believe it is a thing that people prosecute," she replied. "Why
do you ask?"
"I am engaged on one," said Tony. "I can't tell you what it is
to-day, because I have got to go in three minutes, and I always
stammer if I try to talk quickly. Besides it's too interesting to
hurry over."
"My dear Tony," said Lady Jocelyn; "you fill me with curiosity. If
you don't come round again soon and tell me all about it I shall
never forgive you."
"I shall come," said Tony. "I fancy it's going to be one of those
enterprises which will absorb a good deal of advice and assistance."
"You can count on mine," said Lady Jocelyn, "even if I have to
imperil my hitherto unblemished reputation in Chester Square."
Tony bent down and kissed her cheek. "Dear Aunt Fanny," he said. "I
should certainly propose to you if it wasn't forbidden in the
prayer-book."
Lady Jocelyn laughed and patted his hand. "I appreciate the
compliment, Tony," she said, "but perhaps it's just as well as it is.
I am getting old, and you would be a very bad preparation for the
next world." She paused. "Remember," she added; "if you don't come
back within three days and tell me all about the Enterprise I shall
put the matter in the hands of the S.P.C.A."
"What's that?" inquired Tony.
"The Society for the Prevention of Cruelty to Aunts," said Lady
Jocelyn.
A slight but natural reluctance on the part of the Peugot to leave
such a select neighbourhood, delayed Tony for several minutes outside
the house. At length, however, he managed to persuade the big car to
start, and just baffling a masterly attempt at suicide by a passing
terrier, he set off on his return journey to Hampstead.
He did not go direct to Mrs. Spalding's, but continued his way
straight up Haverstock Hill and across the Heath to his own house.
Here he got out and handed the car over to the care of Jennings, who
came sauntering down from the garage in his usual sombre fashion.
"You can put her away, Jennings," he said, brushing the dust from his
sleeve. "If I want anything to-night I shall take a taxi. This
perpetual dashing about in high-powered cars is apt to induce
arrogance."
Jennings received this statement with an unmoved expression, and
leaving him to carry out his instructions, Tony entered the hall. He
walked across to the stick rack in the corner, where he proceeded to
select a large and particularly heavy Irish blackthorn from the
numerous specimens that it contained. He weighed this thoughtfully
in his hand, and then, apparently satisfied with its possibilities,
he lighted himself a cigar and strolled off down the drive and out
across the Heath in the direction of Mrs. Spalding's house.