Part 16 (2/2)

She looked charming, and by that we mean even more charming than usual. She had changed her dress for a _peignoir_, or a dressing-gown, or something of the kind. Beyond question Sir Tristram had no notion what the thing was called. It suited her to perfection--few men had a better eye for that sort of thing in a woman than he had. There is no fathoming feminine duplicity, but no one ever _looked_ more surprised than did that young woman then. She had thrown the door wide open and rushed into the room, and half closed it again behind her before she appeared to recognise in whose presence and where she really was.

”I--I thought--isn't this Mary Waller's room? Oh--h!”

As struck with panic she turned as if to flee. But Sir Tristram, who was gifted, before all else, with presence of mind, interposed. He rose from his chair.

”Miss Cullen, may I beg you for one moment?”

”Sir! Sir Tristram Triggs!” Miss Cullen's air of dignity was perfect, and so bewitching. ”I had something which I wished to say to Lady Mary Waller. There has been some misunderstanding as to which was her room.

I must ask you to accept an apology.”

”Unlike you, Miss Cullen, I always accept an apology.”

”Indeed! Then my experience in that respect has, I presume, been the exception which proves the rule.”

”May I ask when you apologised to me--and for what?”

”This evening,”--the lady looked down; her voice dropped; thrusting the toe of her little shoe from under the hem of her skirt, she tapped it against the floor--”for becoming a wife.”

The grim man behind the table regarded her intently. Although he knew that the minx was worsting him with his own weapons, she appealed to, at any rate, one side of him so strongly that he was unable to prevent the corners of his mouth from wrinkling themselves into a smile.

”May I ask, Mrs. Stanham----”

”Sir Tristram!” She threw out her arms towards him with a pretty little gesture. ”You have set my heart all beating! You have brought the tears right to my eyes! You are the first person who has called me by my married name.”

He moved his hand with a little air of deprecation--as if the thing were nothing.

”May I ask, Mrs. Stanham, if Mr. Thomas Stanham is related to the Duke of Datchet?”

”Related?--Of course he is!--He's his favourite cousin.”

”His _favourite_ cousin?” We doubt if she was justified in her use of the adjective, but the simple truth is, she _was_ a dangerous young woman. ”I see. The plot unfolds. May I ask, further, if this little comedy was rehea.r.s.ed in advance?”

”And in my turn may I ask, Sir Tristram, what it is you mean?”

They looked at each other, eye to eye. They understood each other pretty well by the time Sir Tristram's glance dropped down again to the papers on his table. His tone became, as it were, judicial.

”Well, Mrs. Stanham, I have been considering the matter of which you spoke to me this evening, and, having regard to the whole bearing of the case, to the social position of Mr. Thomas Stanham, and so forth, speaking, of course, _ex parte_ and without prejudice, I may say that, as at present advised, if proper settlements are made, the marriage might be one which would not meet with the active disapprobation of the court.”

Sir Tristram raised his eyes. The lady shook her head--very decidedly.

”That won't do.”

”Won't do? What do you mean?”

”What I say. I'm not going to have Tommy bothered about settlements.

I'm settlement enough for Tommy. What you have to do is to sit down and to simply write this: 'My dear Mrs. Stanham,--Speaking as Lord Chancellor, it gives me much pleasure in a.s.suring you, as a ward of the court, that your marriage with Mr. Thomas Stanham meets with my entire and unreserved approval.--Yours faithfully, Tristram Triggs!'”

Sir Tristram glowered--he might! But she was undismayed. ”You will have to do it, sooner or later--you're a very clever man, and you know you will!--so why not do it at once?”

<script>