Part 28 (1/2)

”This is unusual,” he remarked; ”but, you see, I have an excuse.”

She followed the direction of his finger: ”Death of the Member for North Mallow.” The cream of the news was contained for her in the heading, and so she did not read the rest of the notice, which was a short one.

Now, North Mallow was the respectable const.i.tuency in which a coalition of two parties had selected Mr. Sylvester to be their candidate at the next election, which this death had transferred into the immediate present.

”My dear boy!” said Mrs. Sylvester sympathetically.

Then she checked herself, recognising that a too open satisfaction in the event--opportune as it might be--would be hardly decent.

”Of course, it is very sad for him, poor man!” she remarked. ”But I cannot help feeling glad that you should be in the House, and so much sooner than we expected.”

He interrupted her with another discreet embrace.

”My dear boy!” she said again vaguely, contentedly, as she poured herself a cup of tea.

”He has been in bad health for some time,” continued Charles. ”He died two days ago at Cannes. It is astonis.h.i.+ng that I did not hear the news before. I have wired to Hutchins, my election agent, and if I can manage it, I shall run down to Mallow. Of course one is sorry, but since it has been ordered so, after all, one has to think of the party.”

”Ah yes, the party,” murmured Mrs. Sylvester sympathetically; ”of course that is the great thing. I am sure you will distinguish yourself. I suppose there is no danger of a defeat?”

”Oh, it is a safe seat! But one has always to canva.s.s; there is always a certain risk. I sometimes wish----” He stopped short, pulled nervously at his collar, finding it a little difficult to express his meaning. ”I think,” he went on at last with a visible effort, flus.h.i.+ng somewhat, ”that I must marry. An intelligent woman devoted to my interests would be of great service to me now.”

Mrs. Sylvester allowed her eyes to remain in discreet observation of the tablecloth.

”I have often thought so,” she said at last quietly.

”Indeed!” he remarked politely. ”Yes; it is a matter, perhaps, which I should have discussed with you before. I am fully aware of the right you have---- I would not, I mean, have failed----”

”Oh, my son!” she protested, ”I am sure you have always been most correct.”

”I have tried to be,” he said simply. ”If I have said nothing to you, it has been because I wished to be cautious, not to commit myself, to be very sure----”

”Of the lady's affection, do you mean?”

”Ah, can one ever be sure of that? No; I mean rather of my own att.i.tude, of my own situation. It has always seemed to me that marriage is a very great undertaking, a thing to be immensely considered, not to be embarked on rashly.”

”You view everything so justly!” she exclaimed. ”Have you--am I to understand that you have a particular person in view?”

He waved aside the compliment with a bland gesture, which a.s.serted that only his magnanimity prevented him from acknowledging its truth.

”Surely, surely!” he said. ”You are perhaps aware how immensely I admire Miss Masters; that I have paid her very great attention--marked attention, I may say?”

”I observed something of the kind at Lucerne. I did not know if it had continued; sometimes I thought so. Have you proposed to her?”

”No,” he said slowly; ”I have not yet proposed to her. Naturally, I wished to consult you first.”

”I am sure, Charles,” said his mother cheerfully, ”that I shall be extremely pleased. She is a very nice girl. She is a great-niece of Lord Hazelbury, and connected with the Marshes, and I know she will have at least sixty thousand pounds.”

He glanced across at her, frowning a little, with a certain irritation.

”I shall not marry her for her money,” he said.