"Yes, yes – it is no question of money," said the earl. "It will be a great trouble to her naturally, and we are bound to make what compensation we can. If you wish me to send for Lance I will do so at once. I will send a telegram from the station at Dunmore; he will be here soon after noon."
There had been little or no communication between the young heir and his parents since the lawsuit began. Once or twice Lord Chandos and the earl had met; but the earl always refused to discuss matters with him.
"You must talk to my lady, my dear boy," he would reply; "you know that she manages everything;" and Lord Chandos, fearing no evil, laughed at what he considered an amiable weakness on his father's part.
"I love my wife," he said to himself, "but no woman should ever be so completely mistress of me. I shall always keep my independence, even though I love my wife perhaps better than any man living; but I will never give up my independence."
He was somewhat startled that morning in September to find a telegram waiting him at River View, from Cawdor, stating that Lord Lanswell wished him to take the first train, as he had news of the utmost importance to him. Lady Lanswell, who was a most complete woman of the world, had warily contrived that a piece of real good fortune should at the same time fall to his lot. She had great influence at court, and she had used it to some purpose. There was a royal wedding on the Continent, and he was one of the two English noblemen chosen as the representatives of English royalty. There could be no refusal of such an honor, Lady Lanswell knew that; and she, knowing that Lord Chandos would be delighted over it, had used all her influence, hoping that it would distract his attention from the decision given and from his wife. She had arranged a little programme in her mind – how it should all be managed; she would send a telegram summoning him to Cawdor; she would first show him the letter of appointment, induce him to answer by accepting it, then when the letter accepting the appointment had gone, and he was committed beyond recall, she would tell him the judicial decision over his marriage.
The telegram reached River View one morning when Lord Chandos and Leone sat at a late breakfast-table, Leone looking like a radiant spring morning, her beautiful face, with its exquisite coloring, and her dainty dress of amber and white.
"A telegram," she said. "Oh, Lance, how I dread the sight of those yellow envelopes; they always fill me with horror; they always seem to be the harbinger of bad news."
He kissed the beautiful face before he opened the telegram.
"There is no very bad news here," he said. "I must go to Cawdor at once; my father has some very important news for me."
Some instinct seemed to warn her of coming danger; she rose from her seat and went over to him; she laid her tender arms round his neck; she laid her beautiful face on his.
"It means harm to us, Lance," she said; "I am sure of it."
"Nonsense, my darling," he cried; "how can it be about us? Most likely there is a general election, or some business of that kind coming on, and he wants to see me about it."
Still the beautiful face grew paler, and the shadows deepened in the dark eyes.
"Shall you go at once?" she asked.
Lord Chandos looked at his watch.
"The train starts at twelve," he said. "I must go in half an hour's time, Leone."
"Half an hour," she said, and the tender hands clasped him more tightly, "only half an hour, Lance?"
Some prophetic instinct seemed to come over her; the passionate love on her beautiful face deepened into tragedy; yet he had never breathed one word to her of what had taken place. She knew nothing of the lawsuit; and Lord Chandos never intended her to know anything about it; but with the chill of that autumn morning came a chill of doubt and fear such as she had never known before.
"How long shall you be away?" she asked.
"Not one moment longer than I am compelled to stay," he replied. "If my father really wants to see me on election affairs I may be absent two days; trust me, Leone; the first moment I am free I shall return;" and drawing her beautiful face down to his own the young husband kissed it with passionate devotion, little dreaming of what lay before him.
"Only half an hour," said Leone. "Oh, Lance, let me spend it with you. I will order your portmanteau to be packed; my dear, do not let me leave you for one moment."
She drew a little stool and sat down at his feet.
Lord Chandos laughed.
"One would think we were lovers still."
She looked at him with that wonderful expression of face, so earnest, so intent, so lofty.
"So we are," she said; "we will be lovers until we die; shall we not, Lance?"
"I hope so; but we shall be unlike most married people, Leone, if we do that," he replied.
"I will not believe you," she answered. "You laugh, sometimes, Lance, at love; but I am sure if I were your wife for fifty years you would never tire of me or love me less."
"I never wish to do so," he replied.
"You never will," said Leone, "my faith is as strong as my love, and you have it all. I could rather believe now that the heavens would fall over my head than you could ever for one moment forget me."
"I shall never forget you, sweet," he said; "this is the first time we have ever been parted since we have been married; you must not be sad and lonely, Leone."
"I shall spend all my time in thinking of your return," she said. "Lance, it will comfort me all the time you are away; you will say some of those beautiful words I love to hear."
He took both her white hands in his.
"My darling," he said, "I love you with all my heart, and I will be true to you until death."
The sweetness of the words seemed to content her for a time; she laid her face on his hands for some minutes in wistful silence.
"Leone," said the rich, cheerful voice of the young earl, "I have an idea that I will bring you good news from home. My father would not have sent for me unless he wanted me, and I shall make a bargain with him. If he wants me to do anything, I shall consent only on condition that I take you to Cawdor."
They talked of it for some minutes; then Leone rose and busied herself for some time in helping him – her face was pale and her hands trembled. When the moment came for him to say good-bye he held her in his arms.
"Once again," she whispered.
And he answered:
"My darling wife, I love you, and will be true to you until death."
And those were the last words that for some time she heard him speak.
CHAPTER XV.
AN EXCITING INTERVIEW
Lady Lanswell looked somewhat startled when her son entered the room. During those few months of his married life he had altered much; he looked taller and stronger; the handsome face was covered with a golden beard and mustache; he looked quite three years older than before his marriage.
He was a handsome stripling when his mother kissed him and sent him, with many injunctions as to study, to Dr. Hervey's, a handsome stripling, with golden down on his lip, and the hue of a ripe peach on his face; now he was a man of the world, assured, confident, easy in his carriage and bearing.
He looked at his mother with half-defiance, half-amusement in his eyes.
The strong, handsome woman, whose brave nature had never known fear, trembled for one moment when she remembered what she had to tell her son.
He bent down to kiss her, and for one moment her heart relented to her son. She steeled herself with the recollection that what she had done was for his benefit.
"I have good news for you, Lance," she said, with her stately grace; "very excellent news."
"I am glad to hear it, mother," replied Lord Chandos, thinking to himself how much more this interview resembled that of a queen and a crown prince than of mother and son.