Earl looked a little embarrassed.
“My dear Mary, you are a sensible girl, and you must see that the circumstances are totally dissimilar. Hugh was the younger son of a house as noble as our own. True he was poor, but I could have helped you.”
“And if you were ready to help me, you can help Guy and Isobel,” flashed Lady Mary quickly.
The Earl spoke a little irritably.
“It is very strange you can’t see it. Isobel Clandon is, I admit, quite a lady in the technical sense of the term. But Guy must look beyond that. He must marry in his own rank. Failing that, he must marry a woman with money.”
Lady Mary spoke with an equal irritation.
“You are unjust, father, unjust both to Guy and Isobel. You have no right to ruin these two young lives with your prejudices and your old-world notions.” Her voice dropped into a half-sob as she concluded. “What is there in the world better than real love? And these two love each other devotedly.”
The Earl was about to reply angrily, for he was a somewhat obstinate old man, and hated being thwarted. But, before he could utter a word, the door opened to admit Guy Rossett.
Guy was a very handsome young fellow, with a winning and genial expression. He advanced and shook his father’s hand warmly, and kissed his sister with equal affection.
The Earl beamed upon him. Guy was his favourite of the two sons. Ticehurst was a languid young man about town, who did not appeal greatly to his more robust father.
“Well, Guy, my dear boy, delighted to see you. Have you brought us any news?”
Mary shot a warning glance at her father. Lord Saxham was always preaching reticence to other people, but he never observed it himself. If Guy had been just a little more subtle than he was, he would have smelt a rat at once.
Guy spoke in his frank, almost boyish voice.
“Splendid news, sir, but so good that I want to keep it to myself for a little bit. Shall we say till after dinner, when the servants have gone, and we are quite by ourselves.”
“By all means.” It was Mary’s sweet, gentle voice that answered. “I am sure I should like to keep very good news to myself for a time; hug it as it were. After dinner, Guy!”
Later on, they went into the dining-room. The meal was a somewhat tedious and long repast. Lord Saxham, who was a bit of a gourmet, liked to take a small portion of several dishes. Guy was a hearty trencherman.
Poor Lady Mary, whose thoughts inclined towards a convent, would have been satisfied with a cup of tea and a slice of bread and butter, but she had to preside over these prolonged meals.
When the ponderous banquet – no lesser word could describe it – had drawn to a close, the footman withdrew. It was a family party, the two men sat round the table and smoked. Lady Mary waited to hear the great news. And then Guy unburthened himself.
“The biggest stroke of luck in the world, sir. After fooling about in the Foreign Office for all these years, Greatorex sent for me to go into his private room. A very short interview: Greatorex doesn’t waste words. I am to go to the Embassy at Madrid.”
Lady Mary preserved her sweet calm. The Earl did not move an eyelid. He lifted his glass of port.
“Success to you, my boy. You have got a chance now. And I am sure you will make good.”
The young man drained his glass also.
“Yes, I think I shall make good. What I just wanted was a chance.”
Mary shot a warning glance at her father. It was just on the cards that he might have blurted out something that would have hurt his son’s pride, led him to understand that it was his father’s secret influence that had got him this post.
But, fortunately, at this stage the Earl’s mental faculties were not very acute. He was already beginning to nod over his port.
A few moments later, Lord Saxham’s somnolent faculties became more fully developed. Mary pointed to the terrace which was approached by the dining-room windows. She leaned across the table and whispered.
“Shall we take a stroll? I would like to talk all this over with you.”
Guy nodded and rose. They went noiselessly to the terrace, and sat down on one of the numerous seats, overlooking the lovely gardens beneath.
Mary opened the conversation at once.
“Is this – this good news – going to make any difference to you, Guy?”
There was just a note of anxiety in her voice.
Guy looked at her squarely.
“What do you mean, Mary? Difference in what way?”
“Difference between you and Isobel?” answered Mary, in a voice that shook a little. “You love each other so dearly. I would hate to think that anything could come between you.”
Guy laughed his hearty, boyish laugh.
“Dear old girl, you know I have always told the truth to you. I would sooner go to the devil with Isobel Clandon, than to heaven with some delightful bride that our dear old dad had chosen for me. As soon as I am on my feet, Isobel will be my wife.”
Mary patted his hand affectionately.
“I am so delighted to hear you say that. But one never quite knows men. There is father, in a way sentimental, but on certain things he can be as hard as granite.”
Guy Rossett frowned.
“Oh, I know. He hates the idea of my marrying Isobel. I suppose when I do he will forbid me the house, and cut me off with a shilling, eh?”
Mary looked at him, with a soft gleam in her kind, beautiful eyes.
“Oh, no, he will not do that. And if he wanted to, I should not let him. You know, I have more influence over him than anybody.”
“Except, perhaps, Ticehurst?” suggested Guy, in a tone that was not quite free from bitterness. He was not over-fond of his elder brother.
Mary shook her head.
She was fond of both her brothers, but she was not oblivious of Ticehurst’s faults.
“Don’t worry about that, dear old boy. Eric has no influence over him at all. And when the dreadful deed is done, and Isobel is your wife, dear old dad will rage and fume, and all that. But he will come round in the end, and finish by loving Isobel as much as he does me. Don’t worry. Go on with it.”
Guy kissed her.
“By Jove, you are a pal, Mary. Then I can count on you to back me up.”
“Of course,” was Mary’s confident reply.
There was silence between them for a little while, while Guy puffed at his cigarette, and his sister was cogitating as to her next method of attack. Brought up in a household of three men, she knew it was somewhat difficult to storm the masculine citadel.
Presently she spoke.
“And
