"No, no!" cried Marjolaine, "it was--it was surprise."
"He was very stern, very indignant," her mother proceeded; "but I did
not flinch. I told him you--"
The lamplighter snatched the pigeon-pie and fled. Jack, speechless with
rage and disappointment, was on the point of rushing after him, but, to
his horror, he caught sight of his father coming out of the Admiral's
house, and only just had time to bolt back into the Antiquary's.
Marjolaine gave up. In an uncontrollable fit of hysterical laughter she
dashed into her own house, almost knocking Lord Otford over on her way,
and leaving her poor mother utterly dumbfounded on the seat. Had grief
affected the poor child's brain? Madame rose hurriedly to follow her
daughter--and there stood Lord Otford.
*CHAPTER XV*
*SHOWING HOW THE ROUNDABOUT ROAD LEADS BACK
TO THE STARTING POINT*
[Illustration: Chapter XV headpiece]
"Lord Otford!" cried Madame.
"Forgive me," he said, very gently.
"Pray allow me to pass!" for he was standing right in her road. "I am
very anxious about my child."
"If I am any judge," said he, with a smile, "that young lady is in the
best of health and spirits."
Madame was indignant. "You are mistaken. She is--" but this would never
do; she was just going to let out that Marjolaine was heart-broken
because of Jack Sayle's desertion: the very last thing Lord Otford must
know. "Yes, of course," she corrected herself. "She is well and happy,
but--"
"Then," said Lord Otford, "will you favour me with a few moments?"
She could not help noticing with some satisfaction how different his
manner was from when they had last met. Then he had tried to bluster
and bully; now he was all deference. But she would not yield a jot. She
drew herself up proudly.
"I can see no use in renewing our painful--"
He interrupted her deprecatingly. "I am in a grave perplexity. My son
has disappeared--"
Madame took him up quickly. "And you suspect us of harbouring him!" she
cried, with genuine anger.
"No, no!" he protested. "On my honour, no!"
"Then--?"
"Ah, do be patient," he continued, almost humbly. "I am here on an
errand of conciliation."
"Conciliation!" echoed Madame, with a touch of scorn.
"Jack," Lord Otford began explaining, "is very dear to me."
"Marjolaine is very dear to me," said Madame, defiantly.
Lord Otford bowed. "Precisely. I have been considering. Are we
justified in keeping these two young people apart?"