"Really I think they've every right to hate me--and I suppose they do.

But I can't stand still just because the Aspenicks have stood still for six hundred years, can I? Anyhow I think he'll be quite safe about the wire. His new neighbors will probably be hunting people themselves."

Cartmell p.r.i.c.ked up his ears. "Hunting people, will they? Well, that's good. I didn't know who----"

"No more do I yet--exactly," she laughed, obviously enjoying his baffled curiosity, and casting a glance across at me for my sympathy in the joke. "But I'll have people of a good cla.s.s, Mr. Cartmell--no one to offend his high n.o.bility! No tradesman's son at Oxley! Breysgate is bad enough!" Her eyes dwelt for a moment on Margaret. "And Margaret tells me that she's made a conquest of Mr. Alison, and, as a consequence, is going in for all manner of good works."

Cartmell did not follow the connection of her thoughts, and she laughed again at that.

"I'm quite serious about it, Jenny," Margaret protested.

"Of course you are, my dear, I'm very glad of it. And I believe it would appeal even to Lady Aspenick!"

At last we were alone together--just before I said good night.

"Margaret has told me some of her impressions. What are yours?" she asked.

"I think that, on the whole, we did fairly well. I also think that Margaret and I between us pretty well let the cat out of the bag."

"Oh, you did! How was the animal liked?"

"It was p.r.o.nounced ridiculous--on all grounds ridiculous!"

"Was it? We shall see." Jenny looked dangerous.

"But all the same it was thought better than--the fox."

"Ah!" she cried eagerly. "Better than the fox!" Her eyes sparkled. "Tell me all you can remember."

I told her my tale, not forgetting what had pa.s.sed between Fillingford and myself when we were alone.

"Not so bad! I think we'll go ahead now!" said Jenny.

CHAPTER XXIV

A CHANCE FOR THE ROMANTIC

All was as ready as all could be made. The plans were laid, the approaches prepared, the battalions marshaled. For so much a commander must wait--a good one waits no longer. We went ahead. The Thursday which Jenny had forecasted as likely to be busy turned out to be busy in fact.

One thing happened for which she gave the word--another which, as I am persuaded, did not surprise her very much. It had to come--it had better be over and done with. In all likelihood she gave the word for this second thing also.

How were these words given? Ah, there I am out of my depth. In our relations to the other s.e.x we men are naturally on the aggressive. The man pursued of woman exists no doubt--but as an abnormality--a queer by-product of a civilization intent on many things non-natural. The normal man is on the attack, and ignorant, by consequence, of the minutiae of the science of defense. Whether the intent be surrender, or whether it be that the moment has come for a definitive repulse of the main attack, there are, no doubt, preliminary operations. Scouts are called in, pickets withdrawn, skirmishes retired; all these have served their function--have given information, have foretold the attack, have felt the strength of the opposing forces, and held them in check while the counsels of the defense were taken and its measures perfected. The order is issued--Let them come on--and on they come, to their triumph or their overthrow. But all this is woman's campaigning--to be dimly understood in its outlines, vaguely grasped in its general principles; but how precisely those preliminary operations are performed man, when he has the best opportunity of discovering, is generally too flurried to observe nicely, too deeply engaged in developing his attack to see, more than half blindly, the maneuvers that allow him an open field for it.

Somehow then, on that Thursday, Jenny offered battle--and on two fronts.

She threw her ally Margaret open to Lacey's a.s.sault; she accepted, on her own account, a direct attack from Dormer. She wished the offensive operations to be practically simultaneous, and substantially achieved the object. One took place before four in the afternoon--the other not later than nine o'clock at night.

Keenly recognizing the fact that I was not wanted at the Priory--I am not sure that Jenny's pointed remark that she would be glad to see me "after dinner" did not a.s.sist the recognition--I remained in my own quarters after returning from our couple of hours' morning work. I rather thought that I might be called into action again later on, but I was not concerned in the present operations.

At five in the afternoon Lacey came to me--in a state of the greatest agitation. He just strode in, without asking any leave, and plumped himself down by my hearthstone. His eyes were very bright, his hands and legs seemed quite unable to keep still. Obviously something decisive had happened.

"I've done it, Austin!" he said. "I never thought I should be so happy in my life--and I never thought I should feel such a beast either."

"Congratulations! And explanations? It sounds a curious frame of mind."

"Margaret's accepted me--and I'm on my way to Fillingford to tell my father. Miss Driver insisted on my doing it at once--said it was the only square thing. Otherwise--By Jove, I'd rather charge a battery!"

He got up and began to walk about the room; its dimensions were far too small, whether for his long legs or for his explosive state of mind.

"By gad, Austin, you should have seen how she looked!"

"Miss Driver?"

"No, no, man, Margaret. I was awfully doubtful--well, a fellow doesn't want to talk about his feelings nor about--about what happens on that sort of occasion, you know. Only if it hadn't been for Miss Driver, I couldn't have bucked myself up to it, you know. Taking away her friend--leaving her all alone again, too!" he paused a moment. "I tell you I did think of that," he added rather vehemently.

"Most men wouldn't have thought about that at all--perhaps oughtn't to have."

"Ah, but then what she is to both of us! Well, it went right, Austin, it went right, by Jove!"

His voice was exalted to the skies of triumph. In an instant it dropped to the pit of dismay. "And now I've got to tell the governor!"

"All this has happened thousands of times before," I ventured to remark urbanely, as I filled my pipe and watched his restless striding up and down.

That brought him to a stand--and cooled him into the bargain. "Not quite," he said. "Not quite, Austin." His voice had become more quiet.

"You must see that there are elements in this case which--which make it a bit different? My father's been a good friend to me. Things aren't very flourishing with us, as I daresay you know. But I've always had everything--and I've spent all I had, too. The election was a squeeze for him; of course he wouldn't let me take any subscription--it was the honor of the family. He thought of putting things straight himself once--you know how. He'd sooner die than do that now. I'm doing what's pretty nearly as bad to his thinking--and not putting things straight at all! I daresay you don't sympathize with all this, but I've been brought up to think that there's such a thing as loyalty to the family--and not to be ashamed of it. Well, I've cut all that adrift. I couldn't help it.

But I don't know whether we can go on. It may mean"--he threw out his hands--"a general break-up!"

"But you're set on it?" I asked.

"Isn't it a good deal too late to talk about that? When I've tried to make her love me--and--and she does?"

"Yes, it's late in the day now. You must go to your father."

"I think I'd sooner be taken home to him with a bullet in my head."

"You'll find it won't be quite so bad as you think. Bad, but not quite so bad, you know."

"Ah, you don't allow for--" He stopped. "Well, you remember Hatcham Ford?"

"It seems rather long ago, Lacey."

"Not to him: he broods. If only she wasn't----!"

"'Romeo, Romeo, wherefore art thou Romeo!'"

"That didn't end so deuced happily, did it?"