Whither Thou Goest

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Whither Thou Goest Page 34

by William Le Queux

here for your ownsake. If you can help us with Guy, we shall be doubly pleased."

  She leaned across, and said, in a whisper that did not reach LordSaxham's ears, dulled with age:

  "My father will, unfortunately, always take the lead, but he is notalways happy in his way of expressing himself."

  The rather stiff-backed young lawyer forgot his momentary resentmentunder the kind words of this charming young woman who could sograciously pour oil on the troubled waters.

  "Please, Lady Mary, tell me in what way I can serve you." There was nostiffness in his tones.

  Lord Saxham had subsided now. He gathered, in a dim sort of way, thathe had put his foot in it, for about the thousandth time in his longcareer. He was going to leave it all to his capable daughter.

  Mary drew her chair closer to the guest. Lord Saxham, for the moment,was out of the picture. Besides, he was nodding over his second glassof port. It was better so, he was now incapable of mischief.

  Mary put her cards frankly on the table.

  "As I told you just now, we are very pleased to see you for yourself, asa cousin of dear Isobel, at least _I_ am certainly very pleased." Afaint colour suffused her cheek.

  Farquhar bowed. No barrister can blush, but into his rather cold eyesthere came a softer light which might be taken to express emotion.

  "Lady Mary, I am certain you are not a woman who would ever say anythingyou did not mean."

  "Of course, there was an ulterior motive," continued Mary, with herusual frankness. The flush on her cheek had not quite died away; it hadrather been revived by a compliment that she felt was meant to besincere.

  "There was an ulterior motive, as I have candidly admitted. We are veryanxious about Guy. Greatorex will tell us nothing, my father has beento him this morning, and he keeps his mouth shut. We hear nothing fromGuy, of course, he does not wish to alarm us. Isobel writes short,chatty letters; naturally Guy does not tell her anything; she knows nomore than we do. The question is, Mr Farquhar, do you know anything?You can easily understand how anxious we are."

  Farquhar smoked on steadily. It was some time before he spoke. LordSaxham was now slumbering peacefully after his heavy dinner and histhird glass of port. He looked just a little contemptuously at thesomnolent figure. At Lord Saxham's age, he expected to be LordChancellor, alert and vigorous.

  When he spoke, he did not answer her question. Rather, he pursued thetrain of his own thoughts.

  "It seems to me. Lady Mary," he said, speaking very softly, so that heshould not disturb the slumbers of his host, "that in a measure you bearupon your shoulders--very capable shoulders, I will admit--the entireburden of your family." Mary protested feebly. "Oh, no, don't thinkthat for a moment. My father is very vigorous as a rule. Eric is quitea nice boy, just a little wild, perhaps. And Guy has got lots of grit;he will make good yet. I cannot thank Isobel enough for teaching us howcowardly we were for wanting to have him recalled."

  "Isobel has tons of grit," said Farquhar shortly. "She comes from afighting line."

  "Yes, Isobel, as you say, has tons of grit." Lady Mary looked at himcuriously. "You are very fond of your cousin, are you not, MrFarquhar?"

  "I am very fond of Isobel," said the young barrister quietly. "We werebrought up as children together. I was a few years her senior. I usedto carry her about as a little child."

  Mary looked at him again, and for a second time a faint flush dyed herfair cheek.

  "Will you think it very impertinent of me, Mr Farquhar, if I suggestthat you were very much in love with your pretty cousin?"

  Farquhar shook his head. "I don't deny it for a moment. I was verymuch in love with Isobel. I always wanted her for my wife, but theconsideration of ways and means prevented. When I did ask her, Ilearned that she had accepted your brother--"

  "And you are still in love with her?" questioned Mary, a little eagerly.

  "It is no use being in love with a girl who is betrothed to another man.It is one of those vain dreams that a sensible man dismisses. IsobelClandon is to me now a dear cousin, a good friend." Somehow, Lady Marylooked relieved. She spoke lightly.

  "You will get over it, and one day you will marry. And when you areLord Chancellor, your wife will be the first female subject in thekingdom."

  "And Isobel will be the wife of an Ambassador," said Farquhar. "Weshall run each other close, shall we not?"

  Mary laughed. "Oh, Guy will never have stamina enough to become anAmbassador. When he comes into dear old Aunt Henrietta's money, he willthrow it all over, and lead his pleasant old idle life. I know Guy toowell."

  "Don't you think Isobel will put grit into him?"

  "Isobel is a loving woman. She will always see eye to eye with Guy.Whatever he determines, she will acquiesce in."

  Farquhar sighed. Ambition was always with him the dominating note. Heregretted its absence in others.

  "A pity," he said. "With your family influence, he might go far."

  "He doesn't want to go far, Mr Farquhar," she whispered. She pointedat the slumbering figure of Lord Saxham. "My father has plenty ofbrains; if he had worked, he might have been Prime Minister, or verynear it. In the Rossett family, there is a certain amount of grit, butnot quite enough to bring them to the foremost place."

  Farquhar leaned across the table. This was certainly one of the mostcharming women he had ever met.

  "I say, Lady Mary, what a pity you are not a man. If you had been, I amsure you would have put the Rossett family in their right place." Hecast a cautious glance at the still slumbering host.

  Lady Mary smiled pleasantly. She was not ill-pleased with the genuinecompliment.

  "Yes, perhaps, if I had been born a man. I should certainly have beenbetter than Eric, perhaps a shade better than Guy." She broke offsuddenly. "But it is idle to talk of these things. I am a woman, andmust be contented with my lot, my humble sphere. Now, can you tell meanything of my brother?"

  "You want me to tell you the truth, and you will not be afraid to hearit?"

  "No, I shall not be afraid." She spoke very bravely, but he noticedthat her hands were trembling.

  "I had a letter from Moreno this morning. He tells me that the designagainst your brother has temporarily dropped into abeyance. They had avery great _coup_ on--that has failed. He has reason to suspect thatthey will now turn their attention to Mr Rossett."

  The tears coursed slowly down Mary's face. The Earl slumbered onpeacefully.

  Then she raised her head. Her eyes flashed. She looked angrily at hersleeping father.

  "Oh, our poor Guy. And it is his fault,"--she pointed at the somnolentEarl--"his fault entirely. He wanted to separate him from Isobel,because he thought she was not good enough for him. He went toGreatorex, and with his influence he got this post at Madrid--and he hassent him to his death." Farquhar felt very sympathetic. No man canvery properly appreciate his successful rival. But he was forced toadmit that there was something in Guy Rossett that appealed alike to menand women.

  "Now listen, Lady Mary! Moreno tells me a lot, because to a certainextent I have been in it from the beginning. I won't bore you withdetails. Anyway, Moreno says he is quite certain he can save yourbrother. Perhaps Moreno may be a little too cocksure, he is a very vainsort of fellow. He goes so far as to hint that he might require myassistance."

  Mary looked puzzled. "Your assistance! But where do you come in, inthis awful mix-up?"

  "It is perhaps a little difficult to explain." It was one of the fewoccasions in his life on which the self-possessed young barrister hadfelt embarrassed. "It is, perhaps, a little difficult to explain," herepeated. "Moreno and I are very old friends. He was one night in mychambers. He extracted a promise from me that, if he called upon me, Iwould help your brother."

  Mary shot at him a swift and penetrating glance. "I can understand, MrFarquhar, that you and Mr Moreno are old friends, that you owe many agood turn to one another. But my brother is nothing to you. Why shou
ldyou put yourself out of the way for him?"

  Farquhar temporised. "One sometimes gives promises rather rashly, LadyMary."

  There was a long pause before the woman spoke.

  "I think I can understand," she said. "You gave that promise notbecause you cared for my brother, but because you wanted to help IsobelClandon."

  Farquhar did not beat about the bush. "Yes, I wanted to help Isobel.Naturally, I do not love your brother, but she loves him. And herhappiness is my first consideration."

  Mary looked at him with her soft, kindly eyes. "I think of all thelovers I have heard or read of, you are the truest," she said, "and alsothe kindliest. If our positions had been

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