Mount Street to Dover Street in a taxi is not a very far cry. If Guy Rossett did not swallow his champagne and clear out in a few seconds, the meeting was inevitable. The only apartments were the outer office, the waiting-room, and his own sanctum, and they all led into each other.
Guy, not being thirsty, drank his wine very leisurely. Then he rose to go, but some minutes had elapsed, and at the moment he rose the office boy brought in a slip of folded paper, on which was written Mrs Hargraves name.
Many thanks for meeting me in this little matter, Mr Jackson. Well, for the present, good-bye. And poor Guy Rossett, fondly thinking that he had laid the ghosts of the past, emerged from Jacksons room to be confronted with Violet Hargrave, seated in one of those luxurious easy chairs which the hospitable foreigner provided for his waiting clients.
He put the best face he could on the situation, and advanced with outstretched hand.
An unexpected pleasure, Mrs Hargrave, he cried in a very uncertain voice. A more embarrassed specimen of a budding diplomatist could not have been observed.
The pretty widow ignored the outstretched hand. She looked at him steadily, and the blue eyes were no longer soft and limpid, but hard as steel.
I think, she said in a voice that was as hard as her glance, you are indulging in the language of diplomacy, which is usually used to disguise ones real thoughts.
Rossett turned red, and began, in his agitation, to stammer forth lame and foolish excuses.
I have been awfully busy lately, you know, not had time for anything in the social line. The truth is, Mrs Hargrave, I have just woke up to the fact that I have been wasting a good part of my life. I am really going in now for work, hard work, and ambition.
She swept him with a contemptuous glance.
Is this supposed to be an apology for your despicable conduct as regards myself?
As you please to take it, Mrs Hargrave. Knowing he was utterly in the wrong, he took refuge in a sort of sullen dignity.
Her voice grew more scornful as she answered in her clear, vibrant tones.
I should not like to detain you even for a moment, when you have such a laudable object in view. If you are going to atone for those wasted years, you will have a tremendous lot of leeway to make up. You cannot spare a second. Good day. He could not rally under her sharp tongue and keen womans wit. He bowed, and was about to move away when she stopped him with an imperious gesture.
One moment of your valuable time, if you please, Mr Rossett. You are fond of running away when the situation becomes a little inconvenient to yourself. But on this, I hope, our last meeting, I wish to say a few words to you, which it is well you should hear. May I presume to trespass on your time for a few seconds longer?
There was still in her tones the same bitter note of sarcasm. But by this time, Guy had recovered himself a little, and was able to muster a remnant of dignity.
My time is at your disposal, he replied quietly.
You have not acted the part of a gentleman, Mr Rossett. You were supposed to be my husbands friend; you pretended to be mine. Certain events occurred, the nature of which it is easy to guess, which caused you to think my friendship was no longer desirable. That is the truth, is it not? Be frank for once, if a diplomatist can ever be frank.
She dominated the situation. Rossett could only stammer forth a shamefaced admission that it was the truth.
You admit it. Would you not have played a more manly part, if you had come to me with a frank and proper explanation of those events?
That is just what I ought to have done, said Guy Rossett humbly. He had never admired her more than now. Up to the present moment he had no idea that this dainty, slender woman, more or less of a butterfly, had such spirit in her fragile frame.
Instead of that, pursued Violet Hargrave in her inflexible, vibrating tones, you adopt a device pursued by many men I know, by the type of man who lacks moral courage. I am afraid I shall hurt you a little now, but I dont mind because you have hurt me, and I want to cry quits. You adopted the cowards device of running away from the woman to whom you were afraid to tell the truth.
Rossett was utterly beaten. He could not say a word in self-defence. He stood speechless under the lash of her scorn, her not unjustifiable indignation. She dismissed him with a wave of her hand.
I will keep you no longer, Mr Rossett. For some years we were rather intimate friends. To-day we are strangers. As a stranger, I will bid you good-bye.
And Guy Rossett was happy to escape. He had never felt more humiliated in his life.
He put himself into a taxi, and drove straight to the St. Jamess Club, beloved of diplomatists. He ruminated ruefully over his discomfiture at the hands of the sharp-tongued Mrs Hargrave.
Some women have the knack of making a man feel like a worm, he thought bitterly. Mary has it in her quiet, incisive way. Violet has it to perfection.
The young widow entered the sanctum of the moneylender. Outwardly, her demeanour was calm, but in her breast a volcano was raging. Her pride had been humbled, her hopes ruthlessly crushed. She was raging with all the resentful impotence of the woman scorned.
Jackson met her with outstretched hands, and took both of hers.
My poor little Violet, he said kindly. I can see you are very upset; at least, it is plain to me who have known you from a baby. If you had only told your maid to phone me up before you started, I would have delayed you, and prevented this.
She sank down on a chair with a little weary sigh. You have always been my best friend, Juan. Heaven knows what I should have done or where I should have been without you.
Tut, tut. The financier was very human where women were concerned. And you are fond of this fellow, eh, apart from other considerations?
I was, Juan, but now I hate him, was the uncompromising reply. Still, on the whole, I am not sure I would have missed that little talk with him. Clever young man of the world as he is, ready and quick as he was, I cut him to the quick. I made him feel very small.
Jackson chuckled. I will wager you gave him a good dressing down, when you once started. Well now, my child, I guess you want to see me on something important.
Something very important, was the reply.
The two drew their chairs closely together, and conversed in low tones, using the Spanish language.
Chapter Three
To a man of Lord Saxhams ancient lineage and broad acres, although those same broad acres were somewhat heavily encumbered, General Clandon was a mere nobody. He was just one of the many thousands of persons who are entitled to be called gentlemen, as a matter of courtesy, but have no claim to rank in the same category with pure aristocracy.
All the same, the General came of very respectable stock, from that section of the small landowning class which is the backbone of the territorial interest. His forbears had been settled in Kent for some six generations. His eldest brother, Hugh Clandon, who had ruled over Clandon Place, had a rent roll of some five thousand a year clear.
To an ordinary person, in a lower walk of life, this would seem by no means a despicable income. But Clandon Place was a large house, and cost a good deal to keep up, even on an economical scale. And all the Clandons, with the solitary exception of the General himself, were exceedingly prolific.
His brother Hugh had eight children. He was one of ten. Daughters had to be portioned off, sons had to be educated and started in the world. Geoffrey Clandon inherited a few thousands on his fathers death; he always thought his father must have been a wonderful man to leave so much, considering the calls upon him. The General contrived to live upon the modest income derived from this small capital, plus his half-pay.
His brother Hugh had eight children. He was one of ten. Daughters had to be portioned off, sons had to be educated and started in the world. Geoffrey Clandon inherited a few thousands on his fathers death; he always thought his father must have been a wonderful man to leave so much, considering the calls upon him. The General contrived to live upon the modest income derived from this small capital, plus his half-pay.
He now lived at Eastbourne upon the somewhat slender revenue. When he died, his only child, Isobel, would have a few hundred pounds a year to call her own.
In his youth, he had been exceedingly handsome, and, had he been of a more worldly turn of mind, he might easily have married money. Instead, he married for love, and never repented it. His wife brought him no fortune, but she brought him other things beyond price.
Mrs Clandon died when Isobel was sixteen, and all the intense love which the General had borne his wife was transferred to his daughter, who fully reciprocated her fathers devotion.
She was a very sweet and lovable girl, perhaps just a little wiser and older than her actual years, as is often the case with only children, who have been brought up in close companionship with their parents.
She looked after his house admirably, saw that his meals were well cooked and daintily served. As for herself, thanks to an admirable figure, and a knack of knowing how to wear her clothes, she always looked smartly turned out on a most slender allowance.
They lived on the outskirts of Eastbourne, in an unpretentious house, a cottage which had been turned into a half villa. All the added rooms were spacious, with the original low ceilings, which gave a picturesque effect.
There was over an acre of garden, and half of that was devoted to the cultivation of flowers. Isobel adored flowers, and loved to see bowls of them in the different rooms. She was no mean gardener herself, and often worked hard in conjunction with the rather ancient person who attended to the small domain.
County society did not have anything to say to General Clandon and his daughter, they were too small fry, but in the selecter circles of strictly Eastbourne residents they were considerable figures.
The General had preferred not to settle down in his native place, near his brother. His means were too small to allow him to compete on equal terms with the local magnates who were his contemporaries. He was a very proud man, and he was still more sensitive on Isobels account.
From all she had heard of small county society, of which her uncle was a specimen, she did not think she had missed much. She was quite happy in her little circle at Eastbourne; it was more amusing, and not at all stiff or pretentious.
Once a year, since she was eighteen, she had a brief glimpse of a more fashionable world. The General had kept up a life-long intimacy with an old and wealthy friend, Sir William Glanville, who owned a large estate in Kent. Every autumn an invitation came for the shooting, and in that invitation Isobel was included.
Here she met people, men and women of quite a different calibre, spoiled children of the world, used to luxury from their cradle. Yet she was not sure that she enjoyed these visits very greatly. The profusion of wealth contrasted too sharply with their own daily mode of life.
If her father by some miracle should come into a fortune, and she smiled at the absurd thought, no doubt she would bear herself as bravely as these other girls she met.
But that last visit, that delicious last visit, she had thoroughly enjoyed. Guy Rossett had taken her into dinner, and danced attendance on her for the best part of a delightful week. At last she had met a man 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 Guys glance had thrilled her, when Guys gentle pressure of the hand, as he bade her good night, had set her heart fluttering, she had cried herself to sleep.
She had heard all about him from her hostess, a kind-hearted, gossiping soul. He was the second son of a wealthy peer of ancient lineage. With his fathers influence, he would be sure to obtain eminence in the diplomatic field. And he would inherit a big fortune from his grand-aunt, the Lady Henrietta.
Poor Isobel felt a very lonely maiden as she listened to this splendid recital. As a mere man, with his good looks and charm, he could choose where he liked. With these advantages in addition, he could pick from the noblest in the land.
Of course, she was a little fool, and the sooner she said good-bye to her vain dreams the better. Guy Rossett was attracted by her for the moment, no doubt. But it was impossible a man in his position, with his prospects, could mean anything serious. Could a man, in whose veins ran the blood of a dozen earls, choose for his wife the descendant of paltry squires?
And then had come that wonderful day, a day in her life ever to be marked with a white stone, when Guy had overtaken her as she was indulging in a solitary ramble in the now leafless park.
In impassioned words he had told her how he loved her, how she was the one woman in the world he wanted for his wife. He loved her. Did she care for him? Dazed, and overjoyed with her happiness, her lovely dark eyes half suffused with tears, she faltered forth a trembling yes.
He took her in his arms, and gave her her first lovers kiss.
Then, when her brain had ceased to whirl, when she could recover from the 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, big even amongst aristocrats. I am a nobody. Lady Glanville tells me you are going to be an ambassador, or something dreadfully big and awe-inspiring.
Guy laughed genially. Oh, you sweet little soul. Has that dear old woman been filling you with all that sort of stuff? Havent brains enough, my darling. And, if it should turn out true, and I do become an ambassador, you will grow up with me, and youll find the part of ambassadors wife fit you like a glove.
But, presently, after the first rhapsodies had passed, they began to talk soberly.
Guy had to state that his father, splendid old fellow as he was, none better, was very prejudiced and, as his son put it with more than filial frankness, as obstinate as a mule.
Isobel nodded her pretty dark head. I understand quite. He will want you to marry in your own station of life, choose a girl who has been brought up in the same world.
Guy nodded. Youve hit it. A sort of girl who would know, by inherited instinct, all the sort of tricks that are expected from an ambassadors wife. You see, I take it for granted I am going to be an ambassador.
Isobel looked at him fondly. In her present rapturous mood, she thought he 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 will take yours first, because I think hell do whatever you tell him.
He generally does, replied Isobel, with a smile that showed all her dimples.
Good. I leave to-morrow, you are off the day after. Dont tell him anything till you get back to Eastbourne. Then let him know exactly what has passed between us to-day, that I have admitted frankly I shall have a hard job on my part. I want to get my fathers consent, because I wish you to be welcomed by the family. Dear old Aunt Henrietta will never interfere with me, shes too good a sort.
Yes, answered Isobel happily. I will tell him all that.