Название:
Автор:
Жанр:
Серия:
Издательство:
held herself very erect and replied stiffly. "Of course I promise, Uncle John. I am not ashamed of loving Dan, and I shall marry him in a proper manner. But I shan't marry Lord Curberry," she ended, and fairly ran away, so as to prevent further objections. "Oh, my dear, I think you will," grinned Sir John at the closed door, and he sat down to pen a diplomatic letter to Mr. Halliday, as he wished to have the matter settled and done with. "These romantic young nuisances," said the schemer crossly. The new baronet was a slim, well-preserved dandy of sixty, who looked no older than forty-five owing to the means he took to keep himself fit. He was the younger and only brother of Moon, and inherited the title since there was no nephew to take it. He also inherited ten thousand a year for life on condition that he acted as Lillian's guardian. It was no mean task, for the girl had an income of £50,000 coming in every twelve months. There would be plenty of hard-up flies gathering round this honey-pot, and Sir John foresaw that it would not be an easy business to settle the young lady's matrimonial future, especially as the said young lady was obstinate beyond belief. Sir John, being a loafer by nature, had never possessed sufficient money to indulge to the full in his luxurious tastes, since his brother had not financed him as largely as he could have wished. But now that he was safe for the rest of his life on an income which would enable him to enjoy the world's goods, Sir John did not wish to be bothered. It was his aim to get his niece married and settled as soon as possible, so that she would be looked after by a husband. Under these circumstances, and since Lillian was anxious to marry Dan, it was strange that the baronet did not allow her to indulge her fancy. He did not for two reasons: one was that he really did not think Halliday a good match; and, moreover, knew of his late brother's opinion on the matter of the wooing. The second reason had to do with the fact that he had borrowed a large sum of money from Lord Curberry, and did not wish to pay it back again, even though he could do so easily enough in his present flourishing circumstances. Curberry offered to forego the payment if Sir John could persuade Lillian to marry him. And as Moon wanted to be able to talk about the girl as a peeress, and did not want to reduce his new income by frittering it away in paying back debts, he was determined to bring about the very desirable marriage, as he truly considered it to be. "Curberry is sure to go in for politics," thought the plotter, "and he has enough brains to become Prime Minister if he likes. He's got a decent income, too, and a very old title. With Lillian's money and beauty she should have a titled husband. Besides," this was an after-thought, "Curberry can make himself deuced disagreeable if he likes." And perhaps it was this last idea which made Sir John so anxious for the marriage to take place. The late Sir Charles had been a big, burly, broad-shouldered man, with a powerful clean-shaven face-the kind of overbearing, pushing personality which was bound to come up on top wherever men were congregated. And Sir Charles had massively pushed his way from poverty to affluence, from obscurity into notoriety, if not fame. Now his honors and wealth were in the hands of two people infinitely weaker than he had been. Lillian was but a delicate girl, solely bent upon marriage with an undesirable suitor, while Sir John had no desire to do anything with his new income and new title save to enjoy the goods which the gods had sent him so unexpectedly. He was by no means a strong man, being finical, self-indulgent, and quite feminine in his love for dress and luxury. Much smaller and slighter than his masterful brother, he was perfectly arrayed on all occasions in purple and fine linen; very self-possessed, very polite, and invariably quiet in his manner. He had several small talents, and indulged in painting, poetry, and music, producing specimens of each as weak and neatly finished as himself. He also collected china and stamps, old lace and jewels, which he loved for their color and glitter. Such a man was too fantastical to earn the respect of Lillian, who adored the strength, which showed itself in Dan. Consequently, she felt certain that she would be able to force him to consent to her desires. But in this, the girl, inexperienced in worldly matters and in human nature, reckoned without knowledge of Sir John's obstinacy, which was a singularly striking trait of the man's character. Like most weak people the new baronet loved to domineer, and, moreover, when his ease was at stake, he could be strong even to cruelty, since fear begets that quality as much as it fosters cowardice. Moon had removed Lillian and Mrs. Bolstreath to his new house in Mayfair, because it was not wise that the girl should remain at Hampstead, where everything served to remind her of the good father she had lost. Therefore, Sir John wished for no trouble to take place under his roof, as such-as he put it-would shatter his nerves. The mere fact that Lillian wished to marry young Halliday, and that Curberry wished to marry her, was a fruitful source of ills. It stands to Sir John's credit that he did not take the easiest method of getting rid of his niece by allowing her to become Mrs. Halliday. He had a conscience of some sort, and wished to carry out his late brother's desire that Lillian should become a peeress. So far as the girl's inclinations were concerned he cared little, since he looked upon her as a child who required guidance. And to guide her in the proper direction-that is, towards the altar in Curberry's company-Sir John put himself to considerable inconvenience, and acted honestly with the very best intentions. His egotism-the powerful egotism of a weak man-prevented him from seeing that Lillian was also a human being, and had her right to freedom of choice. It must be said that, for a dilettante, Sir John acted with surprising promptitude. He took the two women to his own house, and let the mansion at Hampstead to an Australian millionaire, who paid an excellent rent. Then he saw the lawyers, and went into details concerning the property. Luckily, Sir Charles had gradually withdrawn from business a few years before his death, since he had more or less concentrated his mind on politics. Therefore, the income was mostly well invested, and, with the exception of the line of steamers with which Mrs. Brown's son had been concerned, there were few interests which required personal supervision. Sir John, having power under the will, sold the dead man's interest in the ships, withdrew from several other speculations, and having seen that the securities, which meant fifty thousand a year to Lillian, and ten thousand a year to himself, were all in good order, he settled down to enjoy himself. The lawyers-on whom he kept an eye-received the money and banked it, and consulted with Sir John regarding reinvestments. They also, by the new baronet's direction, offered a reward of £1,000 for the discovery of the murderess. So, shortly after the New Year everything was more or less settled, and Sir John found himself able to attend once more to his lace and jewels, his music and poetry. Only Lillian's marriage remained to be arranged, and after his conversation with the girl, Sir John appointed a day for Dan to call. That young gentleman, who had been hovering round, lost no time in obeying the summons, which was worded amiably enough, and presented himself in due time. Sir John received Halliday with great affability, offered him a chair and a cigarette, and came to the point at once. "It's about Lillian I wish to see you, Mr. Halliday," he remarked, placing the tips of his fingers delicately together. "You can go up to the drawing-room afterwards and have tea with her and with Mrs. Bolstreath. But we must have a chat first to adjust the situation."
"What situation?" asked Dan, wilfully dense. "Oh, I think you understand," rejoined Sir John, drily. "Well?"
"I love her," was all that Dan could find to say. "Naturally. Lillian is a charming girl, and you are a young man of discernment. At least, I hope so, as I wish you to give Lillian up." Dan rose and pitched his cigarette into the fire. "Never," he cried, looking pale and determined and singularly virile and handsome. "How can you ask such a thing, Mr. Moon-I mean Sir John."
"My new title doesn't come easily I see," said the baronet smoothly. "Oh, I quite understand. My poor brother died so unexpectedly that none of us have got used to the new order of things. You least of all, Mr. Halliday."
"Why not 'Dan'?" asked that young gentleman, leaning against the mantelpiece since he felt that he could talk better standing than sitting. "Because, as I say, there is a new order of things. I have known you all your life, my dear boy, as your parents placed you in my late brother's charge when you were only five years of age. But I say Mr. Halliday instead of Dan as I wish you to understand that we are talking as business men and not as old friends."
"You take away your friendship-"
"Not at all, Mr. Halliday. We shall be better friends than ever when we have had our talk and you have done the right thing. Probably I shall then call you Dan, as of yore."
"You can call me what you please," said Dan obstinately, and rather angrily, for the fiddling methods of Sir John annoyed him. "But I won't give up the dearest girl in the world."
