Part 16 (2/2)

He was a self-controlled man, but his agitation was evident. ”Daisy?” he added hastily.

”Yes,” replied the father. The two were alone in his study. ”Poor Daisy!” And then he told the story.

Keir listened, though not altogether in silence, for broken exclamations, which he seemed unable to repress, broke out from him more than once.

”Impossible----inconceivable!” he muttered, ”Lingard, of all men, to behave like a----” he stopped short, at a loss for a comparison.

”Then you can throw no light upon it--none whatever?” said Mr.

Trevannion. ”We had hoped--foolishly, perhaps--I had somehow hoped that you might have helped us. You know him well, you see, you have been so much together, your acquaintance is of old date, and you must understand any peculiarities of his character.”

His tone still sounded as if he could not bring himself finally to accept the position. Keir was inexpressibly sorry for him.

”I know of none,” he said. ”Frankly, I know of nothing about him that is not estimable. And, as you say, we have been much and most intimately a.s.sociated. We have travelled together half over the world, we have been dependent on each other for months at a time, and the more I have seen of him the more I have admired and--yes--loved him. If I had to pick a fault in him I would say it is a curious spice of obstinacy--I have seen it very strongly now and then. Once,” and his face grew grave, ”once, we nearly quarrelled because he would not give in on a certain point. It was in Siberia, not long ago,” and here Philip gave a sort of s.h.i.+ver, ”it was very horrible--no need to go into details. He, Arthur, got it into his head that a particular course of action was called for, and there was no moving him. However it ended all right. I had almost forgotten it. But he was determined.”

Mr. Trevannion listened, but vaguely. Keir's remarks scarcely seemed to the point.

”Obstinate!” he repeated. ”Yes, but that doesn't explain things. There was no question of giving in. They had had no quarrel. Daisy was perfectly happy. The only thing she can say on looking back over the last week or two closely, is that Arthur had seemed depressed now and then, and when she taxed him with it he evaded a reply. You don't think, Philip, that there is anything of that kind--melancholia, you know--in his family?”

”Bless you, no, my dear sir. He comes of the healthiest stock possible.

People one knows all about for generations. No, no, it's nothing of that kind,” Keir replied. ”And--what man ever had such happy prospects?”

”Then what in heaven's name is it?” said Mr. Trevannion, bringing his hand down violently on the table beside which they were sitting. ”Can you get it out of him, if you can do nothing else for us, Philip? It is our right to know; it is--it is due to my child, it is----” he stopped, his face working with emotion. ”He won't see her, you know,” he added disconnectedly.

”I will try,” said Philip. ”It is indeed the least I can do. If--if I could get him to see her--Daisy; surely that would be the best chance.”

Mr. Trevannion looked at him sharply, scrutinisingly.

”You--you are satisfied then--entirely satisfied that there is nothing we need dread her being mixed up in, so to say? Nothing wrong--nothing to shock a girl like her? You see,” half apologetically, ”his refusing to see her makes one afraid----”

”I am as sure of him as of myself--surer,” said Philip earnestly. ”There is nothing in his past to explain it--nothing.”

”An early secret marriage; a wife he thought dead turning up again,”

suggested the father. ”It sounds absurd, sensational--but after all--there must be some reason.”

”Not that,” said Keir, getting up as he spoke. ”Well then, I will see him first thing in the morning, and communicate with you as soon as possible after I have done so. You will tell Mrs. Trevannion and--and Daisy that I will do my best?”

”My wife is still in the drawing-room. Will you not see her to-night?”

Philip shook his head.

”It is late,” he said, ”and I am dusty and unpresentable. Besides, there is really nothing to say. To-morrow it shall be as you all think best. I will see Mrs. Trevannion--and Daisy,” here he flushed a little, but his host did not observe it, ”if you like and if she wishes it. Heaven send I may have better news than I expect.”

And with a warm pressure of his old friend's hand, Mr. Keir left him.

The two younger men met the next morning. There was no difficulty about it, for Lingard, knowing by instinct that the interview must take place, had determined to face it. So of the two he was the more prepared, the more forearmed.

The conversation was long--an hour, two hours pa.s.sed before poor Philip could make up his mind to accept the ultimatum contained in the few hard words with which Arthur Lingard first greeted him.

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