Part 21 (1/2)
JOSEPH IN MAYFAIR
There was a dead silence in the great library. The morning suns.h.i.+ne poured into it, touching and refining the rich decorations with a glory which was greater than they. But no one spoke a word. It was a dramatic moment.
Then Mary spoke, and there was a rose-pink flush upon her cheeks.
”Oh, auntie,” she said, ”I am so very sorry! But I asked Sir Thomas Ducaine to come here and see me this morning. I meant to have told you.
But when you and uncle sent for me here I forgot all about it.”
”What does it matter if you did forget, dear?” she said to Mary. ”Sir Thomas, how do you do? So glad to see you!”
”How do, Ducaine?” said Sir Augustus. ”Sorry I can't get up; but this confounded gout still hangs round me. Can't quite get rid of it.”
Mary saw, with a strange throb at her heart, that Ducaine's face had changed in some subtle way. She had not seen him for a fortnight or more, and she noticed the difference immediately, though she could hardly have defined it. But what was Joseph doing here? How came the Teacher to be with the man who loved her? Even as she asked herself the question she knew the answer. What did _details_ matter, after all? The Holy Ghost was leading and guiding....
”I want you to know my friend Joseph, Lady Kirwan,” Sir Thomas said.
”Allow me to introduce him to you. Joseph--Lady Kirwan.”
”How do you do, Mr. Joseph?” she answered. ”This is quite an unexpected pleasure. Of course, we have all been hearing so much about you in the papers lately; and, of course, you were with my poor dear nephew when he died.”
She gave him her hand with great graciousness, marvelling at the tall, erect figure, the serene power and beauty of the face, the wonderful magnetic eyes.
Joseph bowed.
”Thank you very much, Lady Kirwan,” he said in the deep, musical voice which could rise to such heights of pa.s.sion and pleading, or remain as now, so perfectly modulated and strong. ”I did not know Lluellyn for very long, but we were like brothers for a time, and he allowed me to see deep into his heart. I have never known a better man. I shall never meet with anyone so good again, or so specially gifted and favored by G.o.d.”
Lady Kirwan was unable to repress a slight start of surprise. The man before her spoke and moved like an easy and polished gentleman. There was no possible doubt about it. And she had expected something so very different.
”Present me to your friend, Ducaine,” Sir Augustus said from his arm-chair; and the Teacher shook hands with the great banker, and then at his invitation sat down beside him.
”Well, sir,” the baronet said, ”you have been making a pretty big stir in London, it seems. The most talked-of person in England at this moment, I suppose.”
Joseph smiled.
”Oh, that was inevitable!” he said. ”I am sorry in a way, because I intensely dislike publicity that is merely curiosity. But I expect our backs are broad enough to bear it. And if only I can get people to listen, that is the great thing, after all.”
”But about last night,” Sir Augustus said. ”Aren't you afraid of being arrested for making a disturbance? I've no doubt the play went a little too far, even for the Frivolity. But such very drastic methods, you know--well really, sir, if this sort of thing is allowed to continue--I mean no unkindness, believe me--society would be quite upset.”
”I hope to upset it, Sir Augustus,” Joseph answered with an absolute simplicity that robbed his words of either ostentation or offence. ”No; they will take no action against me for what I did--of that I am quite certain.”
”I by no means share your certainty,” Sir Augustus answered. ”Though I am sure, for your sake, and for the sake of my niece, who, I gather, somewhat foolishly accompanied you, I hope you're right. But I am a man of the world, you know, while you--if you will pardon me for saying so--hardly seem to be that.”
”I was at the theatre last night,” Sir Thomas Ducaine broke in, ”and I'm quite certain they will do nothing, Sir Augustus. They wouldn't dare. I saw everything that went on. You may take it from me that it will be all right.”
”Well, you ought to know, my dear fellow,” the banker said, obviously relieved at the words of the younger man. ”And I do hope, Mr.--er--Joseph, that you don't mean to visit any more theatres, except in a purely private capacity.”
”I don't think we are likely to visit any more theatres,” Ducaine said quietly.
Everyone looked up quickly at the word ”we”. There was a mute interrogation upon every face.
Then there was a silence. Sir Augustus Kirwan was thinking rapidly and arriving at a decision. He had made his vast fortune, had gained his reputation and influence, by just this power of rapid, decisive thought, mingled with a shrewd intuition which all his life had served him well.