Part 27 (1/2)
They were in Whitehall. Lawrence caught up the speaking tube.
”Waterloo main entrance--and drive like the devil, please, we're late.”
”I thought we had plenty of time?”
”So we had: so much so that I told the man to drive round and round for a bit.”
”And have we still time?”
”No.”
”We shan't lose the train?”
”Unless it's delayed in starting, which isn't likely.”
”Will the others go on and leave us?”
”Hardly!”
”You don't mean that Laura won't get home till tomorrow? Oh!”
”No. But don't look so frightened, no one will blame you--the responsibility is mine entirely.”
Isabel's lip curled. It was for Laura that she felt afraid and not for herself, and surely he might have guessed as much as that! ”Did you do it on purpose?”
”No.”
”I beg your pardon. That was stupid of me.”
”Very,” said Lawrence with his keen sarcastic smile.
At Waterloo he sprang out, tossed a sovereign to the driver, and made Isabel catch up her skirts and run like a deer. But before they reached the platform it was after twelve and the rails beyond were empty. Selincourt and Laura were waiting by the barrier, Selincourt red with impatience, Laura very pale.
”Are you aware you've lost the last train down?” said the elder man with ill-concealed anger, as Lawrence, shortening his step, strolled up in apparent tranquillity with Isabel on his arm.
”What on earth has become of you? We've been waiting here for half an hour!”
”We were held up in the traffic,” said Lawrence deliberately.
Isabel turned scarlet. The truth would have been insupportable, but so was the lie. ”Although it was no fault of mine, Laura, I'm more sorry than I can say. Will you let me telephone for my own car and motor you down? I could get you to Chilmark in the small hours--long before the first morning train.”
Laura hesitated: but Selincourt's brow was dark. The streets that night had not been unusually crowded, ample time had been allowed to cover any ordinary delay, and Isabel was cruelly confused. In his simple code Hyde had committed at least one if not two unpardonable sins--he had neglected one of the ladies in his care if he had not affronted the other.
”That wouldn't do at all,” he said with decision. ”You've been either careless or unlucky once, Lawrence. It might happen again.”
It was a direct challenge, and cost him an effort, but it was not resented. ”It would not. From my soul I regret this contretemps, Lucian. Do you settle what's to be done: you're Laura's brother, I put myself unreservedly in your hands.”
”My dear fellow!” the gentle Lucian was instantly disarmed.
”After all we needn't make a mountain out of a molehill--they'll know we're all right, four of us together!”
”At all events it can't be helped,” said Mrs. Clowes, smiling at Lawrence with her kind trustful eyes, ”so don't distress yourself. My sweet Isabel too, so tired!” she took Isabel's cold hand. ”Never mind, Val won't let your father worry, and we shall be home by ten or eleven in the morning. It is only to go to an hotel for a few hours. Come, dear Lawrence, don't look so subdued! It wasn't your fault, so you mustn't trouble even if--”