Part 32 (2/2)

”Of course, I am seeing rather more of Charlie,” Let.i.tia went on, ”but people won't take any notice of that. There have been rumours of our engagement at least half a dozen times already. Aren't you getting just a little sick, dad, of this everlasting walk and these everlasting people we keep on bowing to and wish we didn't know?”

”I hadn't thought of it exactly in that way,” her father confessed, ”and yet perhaps London is a little wearisome this season.”

”I think,” Let.i.tia sighed, ”that I never felt so keen about leaving town and getting into the country. I suppose you wouldn't care to go down to Mandeleys a week earlier, would you?” she asked tentatively.

The Marquis looked upwards towards the tops of the trees. He thought of that particular spot on the hall table where notes were left for him, of the old-fas.h.i.+oned silver salver laid by his side on the breakfast table, upon which his letters were placed. He thought of the queer new feeling with which, day by day, he glanced them through, opening none, searching always, covering his disappointment by means of some ingenious remark; and of the days when he returned from such a walk as this, or from the club, his eyes glued upon the sideboard even while the butler was relieving him of his coat and gloves. This morning all the acc.u.mulated sickness, all the little throbs of disappointment, seemed to be lumped into one gigantic and intolerable depression, so that his knees even trembled a little while he walked, and his feet felt as though they were shod with lead. He remembered his sleepless nights. He thought of that dull ache which came to him sometimes in the still hours, when he lay and fancied that he could hear her voice, her cheerful laugh, the tender touch of her fingers.

He felt a sudden, overmastering desire to be free, at any rate, from that minute by minute agony. At Mandeleys there would be only the post. Or perhaps, if he made up his mind to leave town earlier than he had expected, he would not be breaking his word to himself if he sent just a line to tell her of his changed plans. The country, by all means!

”So far as I am concerned, Let.i.tia,” he said, ”I think that I have never before felt so strongly the desire to leave London. I suppose that, if we were content to take things quietly, we could collect a few servants and be comfortable there?”

”I am sure of it, dad!” she exclaimed eagerly. ”You don't need to bother. I could arrange it all,” she went on, pa.s.sing her arm through his. ”Four or five women will be all that we need, and Mrs. Harris can collect those in the village. Then we need only take Gossett and Smith from here, and of course cook. The others can go on to board wages.”

The Marquis smiled indulgently.

”You must not disperse the establishment too completely, my dear,” he said. ”I have great hopes that a certain business venture which I have made will place us in a very different financial position before very long.”

She looked a little dubious.

”Was that what Mr. Wadham was worrying about this morning?” she asked.

”Mr. Wadham, Junior, is a most ignorant young man,” her father proclaimed stiffly. ”The venture, such as it is, is one which I have made entirely on my own responsibility.”

A sudden thought struck her. Her arm tightened upon her father's.

”Has it anything to do with Mr. Thain?”

”It was Mr. Thain who placed the matter before me,” he a.s.sented.

”And Mr. Wadham doesn't approve?”

”You really are a most intelligent young person,” her father declared, smiling. ”Mr. Wadham's disapproval, however, does not disturb me.”

Let.i.tia was conscious of a curious uneasiness.

”Are you quite sure that Mr. Thain is an honest man, father?” she asked.

The Marquis's eyebrows were slightly elevated.

”My dear!” he said reprovingly. ”Mr. Thain's position as a financier is, I believe, beyond all question. Your aunt, who, you will remember, first brought him to us, spoke of his reputation in the States as being entirely unexceptionable.”

”After all, aunt only met him on the steamer,” Let.i.tia observed.

”Consider further,” the Marquis continued, ”that he has taken Broomleys and will therefore be a neighbour of ours for some time. Do you think that he would have done this with the knowledge in his mind he had involved me in a transaction which was destined to have an unfortunate conclusion?”

Let.i.tia was silent. Her fine forehead was clouded by a little perplexed frown. The problem of David Thain was not so easily solved.

Then the d.u.c.h.ess called to them from her car and beckoned Let.i.tia to her side.

”I have heard rumours, Let.i.tia,” she whispered.

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