Part 33 (1/2)

”And may they always lead happy lives!” added the old servant, in a weak broken voice.

”Hurrah! Let's hope so,” remarked the bridegroom, and the trio tossed off their wine.

”And now we must be going,” he added, a few minutes later. ”You know my instructions, Jacob. You'll follow to Coombe at the end of the week.

If any one calls, tell them--tell them I shan't be back in town for six months at least.”

”Very well, Master Hugh,” the feeble old man replied, smiling at his master's humour. ”May G.o.d bless you both, sir!”

”Thank you, Jacob, thank you,” Hugh replied heartily, as his man withdrew. ”He can't make it out, I think,” he remarked to Jack, with a laugh. ”It'll be a fresh experience for him to have a mistress. But I feel sure she'll be kind to him.”

Then they both finally examined themselves in a long mirror in the corner of the room, and, putting on their gloves, left the house.

An hour later the bell of the outer door of the chambers rang, and Jacob, still wearing his white satin rosette, answered.

On throwing open the door he was confronted by an unkempt wretchedly clad young woman, with tousled hair poking from under a battered c.r.a.pe bonnet, and a ragged shawl about her shoulders.

”Is Mr. Trethowen in?” she inquired, in a voice that was refined, and certainly not in keeping with her habiliments.

”No, he's not,” the old man replied sharply, for a woman of that cla.s.s was not a desirable visitor.

”Where can I find him?” she asked anxiously. ”I must see him, and at once.”

”I tell you he's not here.”

”Then where is he?”

Jacob, always a discreet and discriminating servant, did not like the look of this ill-attired stranger. He was particularly distrustful of females.

”I want to see him--to tell him something for his own advantage. It's imperative that I should see him immediately,” she continued.

”Well,” remarked Jacob, hesitating, and reflecting that it might possibly be to his master's advantage. ”The fact is, he's gone to be married.”

”To be married!” she echoed, staggering as if she had been dealt a blow.

”Yes; he and the French lady were to be married at twelve o'clock at St.

James's. He's gone there to meet her.”

”Where's the church? Quick, I must go there,” she cried anxiously.

”In Piccadilly. Go to the top of the road here, turn to the right, and you'll come to it.”

”Will he return here?”

”No; he goes to Cornwall to-night.”

Turning suddenly, she ran hurriedly down the stairs. ”Well, well,”

remarked the aged retainer aloud, as he closed the door and re-entered the sitting-room. ”Now, I wonder what she wants? It's very strange-- very; but, somehow, I believe I've seen a face something like hers before somewhere, only I can't recollect. Ah, well,” he added, sighing, ”I'm not so young as I was, and my memory fails me. After all, I suppose it's only fancy.”

Then he helped himself to a gla.s.s of his master's old port in celebration of the happy occasion.

Meanwhile the slipshod female had turned from Piccadilly up the paved courtyard leading to St. James's church. She hurried, with wearied eyes and pale, anxious face, almost breathless.