Parlous Times: A Novel of Modern Diplomacy

Once he was out of sight, Miss Fitzgerald lost no time in producing, from the mysterious recesses of her pocket, a telegram, the delivery of which she had intercepted, which she surveyed long and critically.

A telegram is generally regarded as best serving its purpose when most promptly delivered; but in the case of this message, Miss Fitzgerald evidently felt it would improve by keeping, for it had arrived during the morning, and was now some hours old. The time had come, however, when it should be delivered to its proper owner, and she accordingly went in search of Lieutenant Kingsland.

CHAPTER XXII

A LITTLE COMMISSION

Lady Isabelle and Lieutenant Kingsland sat on the lawn before the old manor house in the soft glow of an English afternoon, contemplating the inevitable. In this case the inevitable was represented by the Dowager, who was enjoying a peaceful nap not fifty feet away. Only fifty feet of faultlessly-kept turf separated them from the vials of a mother's wrath; and in spite of their supreme happiness of the morning, they felt the presence of this gathering storm which must now be faced – as soon as the Marchioness awoke – for to wake her would put her in a bad temper, and her rage promised to be violent enough without any external irritants.

But it happened that while the Dowager slumbered, Miss Fitzgerald, slipping around the corner of the house, appeared in the background, and signalling to the Lieutenant to come to her, where they could talk without awakening the Marchioness, gave him his telegram. He read its contents once, twice, and a third time, word by word, gave a sigh of unutterable relief, and then laughed joyously.

"Good news, apparently," commented Miss Fitzgerald.

"The best," he replied. "A crusty old relative, who is no good to anybody, lies dying in the north of England, and for some unknown reason has made me his heir – I must leave at once to see him out of this world in proper style – but it means I'm a rich man."

"I'm ever so glad. Must you start to-day?"

"I shall go up to London this afternoon, and on to-morrow."

"You'll spend the night in town, then?"

"Yes. I must go to my bank and draw some funds for my journey."

"Then you can do me a favour."

"A thousand, if you want them, after what you've done for me."

"Will you oblige me by taking charge of several chests of Mr. Riddle's stereopticon views; they're heavy, but fragile and very valuable, and I've promised him I'd find some one to take them up to town for him, and put them in safe keeping. Where do you bank?"

"Bank of England, Victoria Street branch."

"Will you leave it in their charge subject to my order?"

"Certainly. How many cases?"

"Five, and they're rather heavy."

"All right. Have the chests put in the luggage cart, and I'll look out for them. Now I must tell my – why, it's Kent-Lauriston!" and to their mutual astonishment, they beheld that gentleman standing close beside them.

"Good afternoon," he said. "You didn't expect to see me? I wired Mrs. Roberts."

"I know my aunt will be delighted," said Miss Fitzgerald. "Won't you come into the house?" and she led the way, calling back to the Lieutenant: "I'll see they're ready. Thank you so much."

Once in the hall, she wasted no time over the unexpected, and to her unwelcome, guest, but, consigning him to the butler, sped away to give directions as to the disposition of the chests, and was soon scurrying across the park to join the patient Secretary, who had had ample opportunity to smoke his two cigars.

The Lieutenant had in the meantime shown his despatch to Lady Isabelle, whose face at once assumed an expression very much in contrast to that of her liege lord's; her brows contracted in a frown, and tears sprang to her eyes.

"Oh, Jack!" she cried. "You won't leave me now – I can't spare you. Your poor uncle Benjamin!"

"But you don't understand!" he cried. "You don't see what it means! The Steward writes that I'll inherit his property, and that I should come and protect my interests."

"But he's not dead yet – only very ill," she argued, seeing the possibilities ahead – yet hoping against hope to win her husband from his better judgment.

"It's the same thing – they wouldn't have telegraphed for me if it wasn't the end."

"But it's so far off – nearly to the Scottish border."

"That's all the more reason for hurrying. I must take the first train for London."

"And leave me!"

"My darling, you must be brave, you must be sensible. If I inherit my uncle's property, I shall be a rich man, and your mother's scruples will be removed. It's vital that I should lose no chances – it means everything to us."

"But is there any danger of your doing so – doesn't the telegram expressly state that he means to make you his heir?"

"Yes, yes, but there are other relatives as near as I. They'll all be there, and if they suspect I'm chosen, will try and get him, at the last, to turn against me."

"But why should you be chosen?"

"Pure cussedness, I think, coupled with the fact that I've never troubled myself to be even civil to him. His other relatives have spent their time in fawning about him, and he has seen through it, and led them a lively dance in consequence. He lived in a beastly old hole of a place – dull as the water in his own moat. I was sent there as a boy, and when he tried to cane me for stealing his fruit, I pelted him with apples. Since I've been old enough to consult my own inclinations, I have entirely ignored him. I never supposed he'd leave me a penny, and I wouldn't have let him lead me a dog's life for it, if I had. Now that he has done so to spite the rest, I shall protect my own interests, never fear."

"But you'll tell mamma before you go?"

"Most certainly not," replied the Lieutenant, glad of any valid excuse for putting off what promised to be a rather trying interview. "I should have to go at once in any event, and I certainly couldn't leave you to face your mother's wrath alone; besides, now I come to think of it, your late father was one of uncle's pet detestations, politically, and if a rumour of my secret marriage were to reach him before the end, it would be all up with my prospects, and you can easily see what splendid capital it would be for his precious relatives."

"But mamma might be trusted?" queried Lady Isabelle, feeling that she was venturing on untenable ground.

"Those who don't know won't tell; besides, my position will be much stronger as the heir in possession than the heir prospective. Now I must be off to make my excuses to Mrs. Roberts, and to pack up my belongings, or some of them, for I don't expect to be gone more than two or three days at the most, and till then everything depends on keeping the secret."

"But, Mr. Stanley," she expostulated.

"Oh, pshaw! I forgot him."

"But we mustn't forget him. You know we promised him that we would tell at once."

"Circumstances alter cases. You must arrange it between you somehow. You can stave off the evil day with your mother. Say you need time to think it over."

"You don't know mamma as well as I do, Jack."

"Then refuse absolutely."

"She'd take me away at once, abroad perhaps. She's made up her mind to this match."

"You must hold it off and on, that is all there is about it. Let her think you are going to consent, but that you mustn't be hurried."

"But think of Mr. Stanley's position. How would you feel in his place?"

"Now, what's the use of arguing suppositious cases when I'm pressed for time? Stanley has accepted the position, and he must make the best of it."