Parlous Times: A Novel of Modern Diplomacy

"Well, as you please; but remember the responsibility rests with you; then there would have to be witnesses."

"I could promise that Lady Isabelle McLane would be present, and the best man would be the other."

"Quite so – but – when would you wish the ceremony to take place?"

"Say Sunday."

"But, my dear young lady – there are the fifteen days required by law – unless, of course, you have a special licence."

"Perhaps there is a special licence."

"Of course in that case everything is easy – but do nothing rash. Marriage is a most solemn covenant, and I should strongly advise that you speak to Mrs. Roberts. Indeed, I hardly know if I – "

"I have your word, Mr. Lambert. I'll come to you to-morrow, may I? and you'll talk to me earnestly, very earnestly, about it all. It will be decided then – and if I should wish it before early service Sunday morning, you would help me, I know. But remember, it's a secret, and oh, you're so kind!" And taking his hand, she kissed it.

"But, my dear," stammered the old man, quite flustered by this unexpected mark of affection, "you haven't even told me the gentleman's name."

Bending over, she whispered softly, "Lieutenant Kingsland," and fled out of the church.

In the light of the events of the morning, Miss Fitzgerald was naturally desirous of becoming better acquainted with the appearance of a special licence, and in the seclusion of the billiard-room, Lieutenant Kingsland was able to gratify her curiosity.

"Quite an expensive luxury, I've been given to understand," she said reflectively, regarding the parchment.

"Yes," admitted Kingsland regretfully, "it means a special messenger to the Archbishop, wherever he may happen to be. He never's by any chance at 'Lambeth' when you want him, and fees all along the line."

"A matter of forty pounds, I've been told."

"Well, call it thirty. I know the crowd."

"I shouldn't have suspected you of being ecclesiastical."

"It's a long story, and not to the point. Now, what have you done?"

"Considering that you were thoughtful enough to procure that licence, I've done everything."

"Bravo! When can the ceremony take place?"

"Before early service Sunday morning, say a quarter to eight."

"The sooner the better. I'm a thousand times obliged. You're a little brick, and I shall never forget it."

"I shall ask for a return some day," she said.

"And you shall have it, no matter what. Is there nothing more?"

"Only this. You know Mr. Lambert is somewhat aged, very blind – don't forget that – and a trifle deaf; so, though I assure you I never said so, I'm quite sure he is under the impression that you're going to marry – me."

"But I don't understand."

"Mr. Lambert informed me that in the case of a person of importance, or one whose parents were living, he couldn't perform the ceremony privately – that is, as privately as you would wish; but as regarded myself, an orphan – you see?"

"But the name?"

"Are we not both Isabelles? Besides, he is old, and deaf, and nearly blind, and the bride and I will both be closely veiled, under the circumstances. If we should appear to have signed our names in the wrong places in the registry – why, it's a stupid blunder that any one might make on such a trying occasion."

"But how account for Lady Isabelle's presence?"

"He asked me concerning the witnesses, and I promised that her Ladyship would be there. As for the other?"

"My best man will serve."

"Who is he?"

Kingsland laughed.

"Wait and see," he said. "He's an old friend of yours. Anything else?"

"Yes, two things. Keep a still tongue in your head, and have the bride there to the minute."

"I promise. Belle, you're the best friend a man ever had."

"Not at all. I'm only doing you a service – for a service in return."

"What is that?"

"I don't know, I'm sure; but any woman who lives the life I do is sure, some day, to want a friend who is sufficiently in her debt – to – well, do anything that may be needful. You understand?"

"Done!" he cried, and wrung her hand.

"Oh, by the way," she added, "I've given the Marchioness her tip, and I don't imagine Jimsy's life will be worth living in consequence."

"Couldn't you help to make it a little more bearable – for instance?" insinuated the Lieutenant.

"It takes two to make a bargain of that sort," she returned.

"All right," he said, laughing. "I'll see that Little Diplomacy gets a steer in your direction," and he started to leave the room.

"No; I forbid you to do anything of the sort," she called after him.

CHAPTER XIV

THE SERIOUS SIDE OF THE SECRETARY'S NATURE

In virtue of his good resolution to point out to Miss Fitzgerald the error of her ways, the Secretary had been nerving himself to an interview with her on this delicate question, and as result, when he found himself alone with Lieutenant Kingsland in the smoking-room after dinner that evening, both were silent. Each had something to think about, yet each was thinking about the same thing. The Secretary abstractedly wondering how he was to commence the awkward interview which was staring him in the face; while the young officer, relying on the axiom that "a woman never says what she means," was pondering over the best way in which to go to work upon his companion, in order to induce him to open his heart to the lady in question.

"I say, Stanley," he remarked, "do you know Bob Darcy?"

"Darcy? No, I don't think so."