Whither Thou Goest

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Whither Thou Goest Page 7

by William Le Queux

were wellcooked and daintily served. As for herself, thanks to an admirablefigure, and a knack of knowing how to wear her clothes, she alwayslooked smartly turned out on a most slender allowance.

  They lived on the outskirts of Eastbourne, in an unpretentious house, acottage which had been turned into a half villa. All the added roomswere spacious, with the original low ceilings, which gave a picturesqueeffect.

  There was over an acre of garden, and half of that was devoted to thecultivation of flowers. Isobel adored flowers, and loved to see bowlsof them in the different rooms. She was no mean gardener herself, andoften worked hard in conjunction with the rather ancient person whoattended to the small domain.

  County society did not have anything to say to General Clandon and hisdaughter, they were too small fry, but in the selecter circles ofstrictly Eastbourne residents they were considerable figures.

  The General had preferred not to settle down in his native place, nearhis brother. His means were too small to allow him to compete on equalterms with the local magnates who were his contemporaries. He was avery proud man, and he was still more sensitive on Isobel's account.

  From all she had heard of small county society, of which her uncle was aspecimen, she did not think she had missed much. She was quite happy inher little circle at Eastbourne; it was more amusing, and not at allstiff or pretentious.

  Once a year, since she was eighteen, she had a brief glimpse of a morefashionable world. The General had kept up a life-long intimacy with anold and wealthy friend, Sir William Glanville, who owned a large estatein Kent. Every autumn an invitation came for the shooting, and in thatinvitation Isobel was included.

  Here she met people, men and women of quite a different calibre, spoiledchildren of the world, used to luxury from their cradle. Yet she wasnot sure that she enjoyed these visits very greatly. The profusion ofwealth contrasted too sharply with their own daily mode of life.

  If her father by some miracle should come into a fortune, and she smiledat the absurd thought, no doubt she would bear herself as bravely asthese other girls she met.

  But that last visit, that delicious last visit, she had thoroughlyenjoyed. Guy Rossett had taken her into dinner, and danced attendanceon her for the best part of a delightful week. At last she had met aman who seemed to stand a head and shoulders above his fellows.

  But for a little time much sadness was mingled with her joy.

  On more than one night, when Guy's glance had thrilled her, when Guy'sgentle pressure of the hand, as he bade her good night, had set herheart fluttering, she had cried herself to sleep.

  She had heard all about him from her hostess, a kind-hearted, gossipingsoul. He was the second son of a wealthy peer of ancient lineage. Withhis father's influence, he would be sure to obtain eminence in thediplomatic field. And he would inherit a big fortune from hisgrand-aunt, the Lady Henrietta.

  Poor Isobel felt a very lonely maiden as she listened to this splendidrecital. As a mere man, with his good looks and charm, he could choosewhere he liked. With these advantages in addition, he could pick fromthe noblest in the land.

  Of course, she was a little fool, and the sooner she said good-bye toher vain dreams the better. Guy Rossett was attracted by her for themoment, no doubt. But it was impossible a man in his position, with hisprospects, could mean anything serious. Could a man, in whose veins ranthe blood of a dozen earls, choose for his wife the descendant of paltrysquires?

  And then had come that wonderful day, a day in her life ever to bemarked with a white stone, when Guy had overtaken her as she wasindulging in a solitary ramble in the now leafless park.

  In impassioned words he had told her how he loved her, how she was theone woman in the world he wanted for his wife. He loved her. Did shecare for him? Dazed, and overjoyed with her happiness, her lovely darkeyes half suffused with tears, she faltered forth a trembling yes.

  He took her in his arms, and gave her her first lover's kiss.

  Then, when her brain had ceased to whirl, when she could recover fromthe great shock of her newly-found joy, she began to think.

  "But it is all a dream," she murmured. "It is impossible."

  "Impossible!" repeated Guy. "Why do you use the word?"

  "But, of course, you can see. You are the son of an aristocrat, bigeven amongst aristocrats. I am a nobody. Lady Glanville tells me youare going to be an ambassador, or something dreadfully big andawe-inspiring."

  Guy laughed genially. "Oh, you sweet little soul. Has that dear oldwoman been filling you with all that sort of stuff? Haven't brainsenough, my darling. And, if it should turn out true, and I do become anambassador, you will grow up with me, and you'll find the part ofambassador's wife fit you like a glove."

  But, presently, after the first rhapsodies had passed, they began totalk soberly.

  Guy had to state that his father, splendid old fellow as he was, nonebetter, was very prejudiced and, as his son put it with more than filialfrankness, "as obstinate as a mule."

  Isobel nodded her pretty dark head. "I understand quite. He will wantyou to marry in your own station of life, choose a girl who has beenbrought up in the same world."

  Guy nodded. "You've hit it. A sort of girl who would know, byinherited instinct, all the sort of tricks that are expected from anambassador's wife. You see, I take it for granted I am going to be anambassador."

  Isobel looked at him fondly. In her present rapturous mood, she thoughthe could be anything he liked, if he gave his mind to it.

  Then Guy spoke quite gravely and seriously.

  "Now, we have got to consider the two fathers, yours and mine. We willtake yours first, because I think he'll do whatever you tell him."

  "He generally does," replied Isobel, with a smile that showed all herdimples.

  "Good. I leave to-morrow, you are off the day after. Don't tell himanything till you get back to Eastbourne. Then let him know exactlywhat has passed between us to-day, that I have admitted frankly I shallhave a hard job on my part. I want to get my father's consent, becauseI wish you to be welcomed by the family. Dear old Aunt Henrietta willnever interfere with me, she's too good a sort."

  "Yes," answered Isobel happily. "I will tell him all that."

  "And please add that I should wish to come down to Eastbourne, as soonas convenient to him, and put all the facts before him. I want first toget his consent, and I know I am asking it under peculiarcircumstances."

  A slight cloud gathered over the girl's lovely face. "I am quite sureof my darling old dad," she said. "I'm a little afraid of yours."

  "There's nothing to be frightened of, sweetheart," said her loverconfidently. "Whether he gives his consent or not, you are going to bemy wife. I'm quite independent of him. But, as I said just now, Iwould prefer to bring him round before, instead of after."

  "But do you think that possible?" inquired Isobel anxiously.

  Guy reflected. "It's a pretty even chance," he said presently. "And,you see. I've got Mary on my side."

  Isobel lifted questioning eyes. "You have never spoken of Mary before.Who is she? I suppose your sister?"

  "Yes, my sister, and the sweetest, dearest girl in the wide world. Justan angel without the wings, and they are growing, I believe. Not thatshe is meek and mild, and all that sort of thing. She can hit out asstraight from the shoulder as a man when she chooses. But tell her atale of two true lovers, and she will never be happy till she bringsthem together."

  "What a darling!" cried Isobel, in deep admiration. "How I should loveto meet her."

  "No difficulty about that," answered Guy easily. "As soon as I havearranged matters with the General, we will fix up a little lunch inLondon. You bring your father up; I'll bring Mary up."

  "How lovely!" sighed Isobel. Truly, a new world, a delightful world,was opening to her.

  The Clandons returned to their modest little nest at Eastbourne. On thefirst evening of their return, Isobel, sitting on a low footstool closeto the General's
chair, told him the wonderful story of Guy Rossett'slove for her, of her love for Guy.

  Her father listened sympathetically. He was intensely proud that hisbeloved daughter had chanced upon a wooer worthy of her. He had neverdared to hope for such an alliance. Isobel was deserving of any FairyPrince, but where was the Fairy Prince to come from?

  But he was wise and experienced. It would not be all fair sailing,there were rocks ahead. Guy had himself admitted that the Earl ofSaxham would prove a formidable obstacle. The General agreed that, werehe in Lord Saxham's place, he would not give his consent too readily.

  He kissed his daughter tenderly, half pleased, half regretful to see theintense lovelight in her eyes as she spoke of her adored lover.

  "Yes, tell Guy to come and see

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