Part 28 (1/2)
”It is certainly not pleasant,” resumed the Dowager, ignoring his last remark, ”to continue this conversation, and, were my late husband living, I should naturally have left the matter to him; as it is, my duty as a mother and my desire for dear Isabelle's welfare bids me----”
”Really, your Ladys.h.i.+p, am I to understand you to imply----”
”I can only say that I have heard your name a.s.sociated with my daughter's in a manner--that was not--quite as I could wish. Dear Lady Wintern, a woman most interested in the good of her friends, spoke to me herself, and of course you, as a man of honour and a gentleman----”
”As a man of honour and a gentleman, I deeply regret that anything in my conduct should have led to a misconception in regard to my relations with Lady Isabelle, and in the future----”
”In the future, Mr. Stanley, you will of course see little or nothing of my daughter--unless----”
She paused, and for a moment neither spoke. Then the Secretary, who, whatever else may be said of him, was not a coward, seeing what was impending, determined to face the situation and have it over as soon as possible.
”Am I to understand,” he inquired, ”that you're asking me my intentions?”
Her Ladys.h.i.+p raised her eyebrows. If the French shoulder is expressive, the English eye-brow, feminine, speaks volumes.
”You do not make the situation easy for me,” she replied. ”Of course I speak only for myself. What my daughter may feel----”
”You don't suppose,” he exclaimed, ”that Lady Isabelle really thinks----”
”I _know_, Mr. Stanley, that my daughter thinks nothing and does nothing that would not be proper in a young lady of her position.”
”Then I've only to apologise,” he said, rising, ”for what you force me to believe is my fault, however unintentional.” And, bowing gravely to her, he quietly left the room.
CHAPTER XVI
MAN PROPOSES
As he dressed for dinner that evening, Stanley was still smarting with irritation at the undeserved attack which had just been made upon him by the Marchioness, and which through no fault of his own placed him in an exceedingly unpleasant and awkward position towards her daughter. The sooner he proposed to Miss Fitzgerald, and their engagement was announced, the better for all parties concerned. So seeking to justify himself by force of circ.u.mstances, he threw prudence to the winds and determined to speak that very night.
If, however, his private affairs had progressed rapidly to a crisis, the official interests which, he a.s.sured himself, were the real cause of his presence here, had not progressed at all, and he seemed no nearer the solution of the mystery, and the apprehension of the conspirators, than when he arrived.
True, Lady Isabelle's confession concerning Kingsland only served to strengthen his own conviction that the Lieutenant was Darcy's confederate; but Darcy himself, the prime mover of the plot, had not as yet put in an appearance, and till he arrived there was nothing to be done but to watch and wait.
Five minutes later the Secretary had joined the party in the drawing-room just as dinner was announced, and to his utter consternation his hostess whispered to him:
”I am sending you down with Lady Isabelle. I hear you and she are great chums.”
”Great chums!” Stanley was tempted to plead sudden indisposition, and have his dinner in his room. Then a remembrance of his recent interview caused a wave of adverse feeling to sweep over him. Yes, he would take down Lady Isabelle. Was he to be badgered out of his dinner because a designing old woman could not leave well enough alone?
He could not indeed resist casting a look of amused triumph at the Dowager as he pa.s.sed her with her daughter on his arm, but his conscience p.r.i.c.ked him nevertheless, for he felt that his presence must be distasteful to his fair companion. That she really cared for him at all he could not bring himself to believe in the light of their conversation on the walk. Still, her frankness might have been a.s.sumed through pique at unreturned affection, and with a desire born of pride, to blind him to the true state of her feelings. The more he thought of this the more uneasy he became, and he could not help noticing that she was much more pale than he had as yet seen her, and seemed singularly abstracted. Moreover, he was certain that she was incurring her mother's displeasure, which would be to her a grave matter. He tried to make such atonement as lay in his power to make her feel at ease and to divert her mind. He told her his best stories, gave her his most brilliant conversation, but in vain. His endeavours fell hopelessly flat, and at last, after a dreadful pause, they spoke that which was in their hearts.
”Do you think it was nice of you to take me in to dinner?” she asked in that quiet conversational tone with which so many secrets have been told at dinners without arresting the attention of others.
”Really,” he said, ”I'd no option. Our hostess----”
”You managed to avoid it last night.”
Stanley flushed.