you. You've given her much pleasure during the past season and she appreciates it; but she's quite enough of a philosopher to accept cheerfully the half-loaf."
"But I can't be just a friend."
"Not now, perhaps, but you can a few months later, when other things have supervened."
"If I see her again – it's all over."
"Don't see her then."
"That is just the point. She's going to stay with an aunt in Sussex."
"Another aunt?"
"Yes, Mrs. Roberts, and I am invited to go down to the house-party to-morrow, and have accepted, and shall come back engaged."
"Send your excuses, by all means, write to-day."
"Yes, I suppose it's for the best, but you know I hate to do it. Somehow I can't think all you imply of her."
"My dear boy," said Kent-Lauriston, "I may be doing the lady gross injustice and keeping you out of a very good thing, but even in that case you must not go to Sussex. For heaven's sake, man, take time to consider! It's too important a matter to be decided in a hurry. If she cares for you and is worthy of you, she'll give you every fair opportunity of asking her the fateful question and a reasonable amount of time to think it over. Take a fortnight for calm reflection; it's very little to allow for what may be a life's happiness or misery. Meanwhile try and keep your mind off it. Run over to Paris with me. If at the end of our trip you still feel the same towards her, I won't stand in your way, I promise you. Come, is that a fair offer?"
"Most kind," said Stanley, "and to show you my appreciation of all the trouble you've taken, I'll send my regrets to Mrs. Roberts by the first post."
"Good boy!" said his mentor, sententiously.
"I don't know about Paris, as to whether I can get leave, I mean."
"Nonsense, you have already arranged your leave for the house-party, I'll be bound. Dine with me here to-morrow night at eight, and we'll talk it over."
"Thanks, I will. I must be going now, I have to look in at a tea or two."
"Not to meet our charming enchantress?"
"No, no, trust me, I'll play fair," and he was gone.
Kent-Lauriston puffed meditatively at his cigarette, now that he was alone, and tugged hard at his moustache.
"The little Fitzgerald a pattern of all the virtues, eh?" he said, half to himself, and half to the departing Secretary, and added, under his breath:
"Gad! How she would rook him! Never been to the Lyceum or down the Thames! May she be forgiven!"
CHAPTER VI
AFTERNOON TEA
The Secretary had stated that he had several calls to make, but they resolved themselves into one, the fact being that the day was disagreeable and the prospect of riding vast distances in hansom cabs, interspersed with short intervals of tea, not alluring. He therefore decided to confine his attentions to one hostess, and selected his missing chaperon, Lady Rainsford, whose indisposition had come so near wrecking his little dinner. Her Ladyship had much to commend her. Her house was central and large, one knew one would meet friends there, and there were plenty of nooks and corners for tête-à-têtes, while, as her circle was most select, and she received frequently, there was a fair chance that her rooms would not be crowded.
Stanley found his hostess quite recovered, and standing by the side of a bright fire in a diminutive fireplace, for the rain had made the day a bit chilly.
"Good afternoon, Mr. Secretary," she cried, as he entered. "I was beginning to think you'd not forgiven me for leaving you in the lurch last night."
"Don't speak of it, I beg," he said, hastening to deprecate her apologies. "I should have called to enquire the first thing this morning."
"You should most certainly, and I ought to tax you with base desertion," she went on.
"That would be impossible, but I'm a victim of stern necessity. Society demands all my spare time, and I'm forced, as one always is in London, to neglect my friends for my acquaintances."
"You deserve a thorough rating, and if it were not for my duties as hostess, I'd give it to you here and now."
"I claim the protection of your hearth," he rejoined, laughing.
"Oh! But it's such a tiny hearth," she remonstrated.
"And I," he added, "am such an insignificant personage."
"I won't have you run yourself down in that way. I believe you are a great social lion. Come, confess, how many teas have you been to in the last seven days?"
"Fifty-six."
"Good gracious! How do you men stand it, and having something to eat and a cup of tea at every place?"
"Shall I enlighten you as to the professional secrets of the habitual tea-goer? We don't."
"But surely you can't always refuse."
"I never refuse. I always accept the cup – and put it down somewhere."
"For another guest to knock over. You're a hardened reprobate, but this time you shall not escape. You know Miss Campbell, who is pouring tea for me this afternoon? No? Then I'll introduce you. Miss Campbell, this is Secretary Stanley, a member of the Diplomatic Corps, who has just confessed to me that he habitually eludes the trustful hostess and the proffered tea. You'll give him a cup and see that he drinks it before he leaves the room," and the vivacious little woman departed, leaving him no alternative but to accept his fate meekly.
"How do you like your tea?" inquired Miss Campbell, a young lady deft of hand, but with few ideas.
"Lemon and no sugar."
"How nasty! But then, I forgot you never really drink it, Lady Rainsford says. But this time – "
"This time," he replied, "I'm a lamb led to the slaughter."
Miss Campbell said, "Really?" Then there followed an awkward silence.
Looking around for some means of escape, he saw a face in the crowd, that caused him to start, so utterly unexpected and out of place did it seem, considering what he had heard that afternoon. It was the face of Colonel Darcy.
He did not think the man knew him, and for obvious reasons he did not care to be introduced; so he turned again to Miss Campbell, who, seeing no alternative, rose to the occasion and continued the conversation by remarking: —
"Is it true that you go to such an enormous number of teas? What do you find to talk about?"
"Oh, I don't find much. I talk about the same thing at every tea. If you meet other people it makes no difference."
"How clever of you!"
"On the contrary it's simply dulness, and because I'm lazy – I – " but he left his sentence unfinished, for Miss Campbell's attention was palpably wavering, and her glance spoke of approaching deliverance. He looked over his shoulder to see Darcy advancing with Lieutenant Kingsland.
The two officers had met in
