"Is that correct? Answer me."

"Well, they certainly wouldn't have used such words in my presence."

"But they meant that--or something like it?"

"I'm afraid they did."

Her face, white enough before, flushed red, as she demanded:

"And you! What did you say?"

"I--I don't remember-- I refused to listen; but I made up my mind to speak to you-- I thought you ought to know."

"You"--she cried, turning on him in a fury--"you, my friend, as you call yourself, had no answer to make, did nothing, except to decide to lecture me about what you should have known to be a lie! Let me tell you, Mr. Stanley, you'd have done better to defend me--knowing, as you must know, the slights, the buffets, the insults I've had to endure, because I'm unprotected, and men can dare----"

"I a.s.sure you I did. I didn't believe it of you for an instant."

"You believed it enough to question me as to the truth of these accusations. It's easy to preach prudence when you've nothing to gain or lose; but were you a woman, thrown on the world and on her own resources, you'd find it a different, a very different, thing, and you'd expect help and encouragement from friends who are stronger and more fortunate than you--not this!" and she burst into tears.

"Miss Fitzgerald!-- Belle!" he cried, striving to take her hand, "I wouldn't have pained you in this way for worlds! Believe me, I'm your friend, your true friend!"

"I've friends enough of your sort," she sobbed, "too many."

"But at least let me explain."

"Don't say any more, please--you've said enough. Good night, you must excuse me. I--I'm not myself," and touching her handkerchief to her eyes, with a great effort she controlled herself and left the conservatory.

CHAPTER XV

THE SECRETARY'S INTENTIONS

Roberts' Hall preserved the good old English custom concerning breakfast--which means that a rambling meal extended from eight to eleven in the morning--at which the butler served you with tea, or coffee and rolls, and you served yourself to the rest, from the cold cuts on the sideboard to the hot viands in copper vessels warmed by alcohol lamps. The cold cuts you had always with you, also the orange marmalade; as for the eggs and bacon, devilled kidneys, etc., their state was dependent on the taste of the guests who had preceded you, and your own ability as an early riser. You came down when you pleased, and ate your meal in solitary state or in any company that might happen to be present, which, if it proved to be congenial, made a very jolly, informal repast, and if it didn't,--well, that was fate, and you had to submit to it. Fate may be kind or it may not, sometimes it sets out to play ponderous practical jokes, which may include something nearly akin to a grim reality in the future for the persons involved.

This was probably the reason why Stanley, on his advent into the breakfast-room, found it tenanted by only one person, and that one, Lady Isabelle.

At the sight of her, the Secretary felt decidedly sheepish, because Miss Fitzgerald's tears and some subsequent hours of sleepless meditation thereon had convinced him that he was morally, if not actually, capable of all the weakness for which her Ladyship had upbraided him. He told himself that he owed a duty to the fair Belle, that he must save her from herself at all costs, even if it involved the sacrifice of his own future, that he had misjudged her cruelly, and that he was very, very sorry for her, and that, because he was conscience-stricken, he was certainly in love. Indeed he kept a.s.suring himself with feverish insistence, that this must be the real article.

To Lady Isabelle, on the contrary, Stanley's deficiencies were almost lost sight of, in view of the disturbing suspicion that that young gentleman might be led to suppose that her well-meant interference in his affairs had proceeded from an undue regard for himself. A suspicion but a few hours old, and dating from an interview with the Marchioness, who, for some unknown reason, had suddenly a.s.sumed a totally different att.i.tude towards the Secretary, and even tried to entrap her daughter into admitting that his attentions might mean something. This made Lady Isabelle most anxious to impress him with the fact that their friendship was purely platonic. Accordingly, to his intense surprise, she was exceedingly gracious, and chatted away all through breakfast in a charmingly easy, if somewhat feverish, manner, even condescending so far as to say something pleasant about Miss Fitzgerald. Under this treatment Stanley simply glowed, and opened out as much as he dared in the presence of the butler and two expressionless footmen, upon that lady's charms. He was a very young diplomat, as the reader will have noticed ere this, or he would not have continued to praise one lady to another; least of all at breakfast time, an hour when the temper of mortals is by no means certain. But in the pleasure of his subject he did not notice the scorn that was suggested by the curl of his vis-a-vis' lip.

"I do wish," he said in conclusion, "that you'd take a stroll with me this afternoon; the deer park is quite worth seeing, I understand, and besides there are lots of things I want to talk to you about."

It was during this proposition that Lieutenant Kingsland, preceded by the Dowager, entered the breakfast-room.

"Oh, I say," blurted out that officer, "I think we've got an appointment after lunch, haven't we?"

"I think not, Lieutenant Kingsland," replied Lady Isabelle, foreseeing the crisis, and realising the necessity of immediate action. Then turning to Stanley, she added:--

"Thanks, I should enjoy a good walk hugely, and I love deer. It was very kind of you to suggest it. What time shall we start?"

"Say three o'clock," said the Secretary, immensely rejoiced at his restoration to favour.

"Three, let it be then, if mamma approves."

It was only too evident that mamma did approve; she nodded and smiled, and said that exercise was a splendid thing for young people; till Stanley became frightened at her excessive geniality, and Kingsland looked black as a thunder-cloud.

The Lieutenant was not, however, so easily baffled, and jumped to the conclusion that half of Lady Isabelle was better than no Lady Isabelle at all.

"Three's not company, I know," he said, laughing with attempted gaiety, "but I'm no end fond of deer myself."

"I was about to ask you, Lieutenant Kingsland," interrupted the Dowager, coming promptly to the rescue, "to execute a few commissions for me this afternoon, at Tunbridge Wells. I'm sure our hostess will put a dog-cart at your service, and it's not above fifteen miles."

"Charmed, I'm sure," replied the Lieutenant--but he did not look it.

However, he had his reward, for Lady Isabelle had just finished her breakfast, and Kingsland declared he had already had his, which was not true, so they disappeared together and left the Dowager to enjoy her repast in the company of the Secretary, to whom she was so extremely affable, that, had it not been for his instructions, he would have had serious thoughts of leaving for London, before he was appropriated body and soul.

"What have you been telling my mother about Mr. Stanley?" asked Lady Isabelle of the Lieutenant, in the seclusion of the library. "I know you had a long conference with her last night--and something must have happened."

"I'm sure I don't know, unless it was that he's a millionaire, and made his money, or had it made for him, in some beastly commercial way--sugar, I think."

Lady Isabelle gave him one look, and remarked with a depth of scorn which even the unfortunate Secretary had not evoked:--

"Oh, you idiot!"

Kingsland was immersed in literature the entire morning in company with Lady Isabelle, who doubtless found the Lieutenant's companionship a great comfort, under the circ.u.mstances, since now that she knew the reason of her mother's att.i.tude towards the Secretary, she was as anxious to avoid the walk with him, as she had previously been willing to take it.

Kingsland, however, bore up bravely, for his trip to the Wells gave him an opportunity to settle several little matters of business, which the Dowager, had she known of them, would hardly have approved. Moreover, Belle saw him off, saying as he mounted the dog-cart:--

"Don't be upset by Lady Isabelle's defection this afternoon, Jack; the most trustworthy little mare will sometimes jib, just before taking a desperate leap."

When two people start out on a long walk together, each with the firm intention of doing his duty by the other, the result is apt to be far from pleasant; but in this case both had so much to talk about that for the first hour of their walk they said nothing, and their arrival at the deer-park was a distinct relief, since it furnished a new and harmless subject for discussion. And, indeed, the pretty animals warranted more than a pa.s.sing word. They were seen in numbers, peeping out of a fringe of woodland across the width of an uncultivated field, and they were in that delightful state of semi-tameness, when a longing for the bits of bread, with which Stanley and Lady Isabelle were well supplied, battled equally with an impulse, born of natural training, to flee the proximity of the human race.

But there was not much going in the line of food, and so gradually, step by step, the most daring of the herd ventured into the open, and slowly approached the visitors, who were wise enough to throw tempting bits about twelve feet away from them. Watchful to note the slightest movement of a muscle, the bread was at length secured, and the herd scampered away in a panic of fear, only to return for more, thrown nearer the feet of their friends. So it was at last, with advances of six feet and retreats of as many yards, at the crackling of a bush or a change in the wind, that the most adventurous consented, standing as far aloof as possible, and stretching their necks to the last degree of tension, to take the bread from the visitors' hands.

But finally even the charms of the deer were exhausted, and as they turned about and began slowly to stroll homeward across the park, Lady Isabelle abruptly broached the subject which both of them had nearest at heart.

"I'm afraid," she began, "that I'm very p.r.o.ne to order the lives of my friends, from my own point of view."

"My life, for instance?" he asked.

"Mr. Stanley," she said, "I shan't be really happy till I have apologised for the way I spoke at Lady Rainsford's tea. I'd no right to do so, and I'm sure my judgment was hasty and ill-advised. I've been trusting to my eyes and ears rather than to the reports of other people, and I'm sure I've been mistaken. Do you know how Miss Fitzgerald spent part of yesterday?"

"I have not seen her to speak with to-day."