...
At Monkland Court, save for little Ann, the morning passed but dumbly,
everyone feeling that something must be done, and no one knowing what.
At lunch, the only allusion to the situation had been Harbinger's
inquiry:
"When does Miltoun return?"
He had wired, it seemed, to say that he was motoring down that night.
"The sooner the better," Sir William murmured: "we've still a
fortnight."
But all had felt from the tone in which he spoke these words, how
serious was the position in the eyes of that experienced campaigner.
What with the collapse of the war scare, and this canard about Mrs.
Noel, there was indeed cause for alarm.
The afternoon post brought a letter from Lord Valleys marked Express.
Lady Valleys opened it with a slight grimace, which deepened as she
read. Her handsome, florid face wore an expression of sadness seldom
seen there. There was, in fact, more than a touch of dignity in her
reception of the unpalatable news.
"Eustace declares his intention of marrying this Mrs. Noel"--so ran
her husband's letter--"I know, unfortunately, of no way in which I can
prevent him. If you can discover legitimate means of dissuasion, it
would be well to use them. My dear, it's the very devil."
It was the very devil! For, if Miltoun had already made up his mind to
marry her, without knowledge of the malicious rumour, what would not
be his determination now? And the woman of the world rose up in Lady
Valleys.
Pages:
92
93
94
95
96
97
98
99
100
101
102
103
104
105
106
107
108
109
110
111
112
113
114
115
116