As they drove to the station his wife was strangely quiet, and he rallied her on the fact.
"Why," he said, "you haven't spoken since we started."
Her face grew troubled. "I was wondering – " she began.
"If you would be happy?" he asked. "I'll do my best."
"No, no, I'm sure of that, only – do tell me where we are going."
The Consul laughed. "You women are just the same all the world over," he replied, but otherwise did not commit himself; but his wife noticed that he looked worried and anxious, and that he breathed a sigh of unmistakable relief as their train drew out of Waterloo Station. She did not know that the one cloud which he had feared might darken his wedding day had now been dispelled: he had seen nothing of his brother.
CHAPTER III
IN WHICH THE LONDON AND SOUTH WESTERN RAIL-WAY ACCOMPLISHES WHAT THE MARRIAGE SERVICE FORBIDS
It might be supposed that the heir to "The Towers" and Lady Scarsdale's very considerable property would meet with some decided opposition from his family to his proposed alliance with Mabel Vernon, an unknown American, who, though fairly provided with this world's goods, could in no sense be termed a great heiress. But the fact of the matter was that the prejudices of his own people were as nothing when compared with those of Aunt Eliza. In the first place she did not wish her niece to marry at all, on the ground that no man was good enough for her; and in the second place she had decided that if Mabel must have a partner in life, he was to be born under the Stars and Stripes. Her wrath, therefore, was great when she heard of the engagement, and she declared that she had a good mind to cut the young couple off with a cent, a threat that meant something from a woman who had bought corner lots in Chicago immediately after the great fire, and still held them. Scarsdale never forgot his first interview with her after she had learned the news.
"I mistrusted you were round for no good," she said, "though I wasn't quite certain which one of us you wanted."
He bit his lip.
"There's nothing to laugh at, young man," she continued severely; "marrying me would have been no joke."
"I'm sure, Miss Cogbill – " began Scarsdale.
"You call me Aunt Eliza in the future," she broke in; "that is who I am, and if I choose to remember your wife when I'm gone she'll be as rich as a duchess, as I dare say you know."
"I had no thought of your leaving her anything, and I am quite able to support her without your assistance," he replied, nettled by her implication.
"I am glad to hear it; it sounds encouraging," returned the aunt. "Tell me, have you ever done anything to support yourself?"
"Rather! As a younger son, I should have had a very poor chance if I'd not."
"How many towers have you got?" was her next question.
"I don't know," said Scarsdale, laughing at her very literal interpretation of the name of his estate.
"Have they fire-escapes?"
"I'm afraid not," he replied, "but you must come and see for yourself. My mother will be happy to welcome you."
"No, I guess not; I'm too old to start climbing."
"Oh, you wouldn't have to live in them," he hastened to assure her; "there are other parts to the house, and my mother – "
"That's her ladyship?"
"Yes."
"You are sure you haven't any title?" asked Aunt Eliza suspiciously.
"No, nor any chance of having one."
"Well, I do feel relieved," she commented. "The Psalms say not to put your trust in princes, but I guess if King David had ever been through a London season he wouldn't have drawn the line there; and what's good enough for him is good enough for me."
"I think you can trust me, Aunt Eliza."
"I hope so, though I never expected to see a niece of mine married to a man of war."
"Not a man of war," he corrected, "only a man in the War Office – a very different thing, I assure you."
"I am rejoiced to hear it," she replied. "Now run along to Mabel, and I'll write your mother and tell her that I guess you'll do." Which she straightway did, and that letter is still preserved as one of the literary curiosities of "The Towers," Sussex.
The first meeting of Aunt Eliza and Lady Scarsdale took place the day before the wedding. It was pleasant, short, and to the point, and at its conclusion each parted from the other with mingled feelings of wonder and respect. Indeed, no one could fail to respect Miss Cogbill. Alone and unaided she had amassed and managed a great fortune. She was shrewd and keen beyond the nature of women, and seldom minced matters in her speech; but nevertheless she was possessed of much native refinement and prim, old-time courtesy that did not always seem in accordance with the business side of her nature.
As time went on she became reconciled to Scarsdale, but his lack of appreciation of business was a thorn in her flesh, and, indeed, her inclinations had led her in quite another direction.
"Now look at that young Carrington who comes to see you once in a while; if you had to marry an Englishman, why didn't you take him?" she said once to her niece.
"Why, Aunt Eliza," replied that young lady, "what are you thinking of? According to your own standards, he is much less desirable than Harold, for he has not a cent."
"He'd make money fast enough if his training didn't get in his way," she retorted, "which is more than can be said of your future husband."
The wedding was very quiet, at Miss Vernon's suggestion and with her aunt's approval, for neither of them cared for that lavish display with which a certain class of Americans are, unfortunately, associated. There was to be a reception at the hotel, to which a large number of people had been asked; but at the ceremony scarcely a dozen were present. Scarsdale's mother and immediate family, a brother official, who served as best man, and Aunt Eliza made up the party.
At the bride's request, the service had been as much abbreviated as the Church would allow, and the whole matter was finished in a surprisingly short space of time. The reception followed, and an hour later the happy pair were ready to leave; but their destination was still a mystery to the groom.
"I think you might just give me a hint," he suggested to Aunt Eliza, whom he shrewdly suspected knew all about it.
"Do you?" she replied. "Well, I think that Mabel is quite capable of taking care of herself and you too, and that the sooner you realise it the better. As for your being consulted or informed about your wedding trip, why, my niece has been four times round the world already, and is better able to plan an ordinary honeymoon excursion than a man who spends his time turning out bombs, and nitro-glycerine, and monitors, and things."
Aunt Eliza's notions of the duties of the War Office were still somewhat vague.
After the bridal couple had left, Miss Cogbill and Lady Scarsdale received the remaining guests, and, when the function was over, her ladyship gave her American relative a cordial invitation to stay at "The Towers" till after the honeymoon; but Aunt Eliza refused.
"I'll come some day and be glad to," she said; "but I'm off to-morrow for two weeks in Paris. I always go there when I'm blue; it cheers one up so, and you meet more Americans there nowadays than you do at home."
"Perhaps you will see the happy pair before you return," suggested Lady Scarsdale.
"Now, your ladyship," said Aunt Eliza, "that isn't fair; but to tell you the truth of the matter, I've no more idea where they are going, beyond their first stop, than you have."
"And that is – ?"
"They will write you from there to-morrow," replied Miss Cogbill, "and then you will know as much as I do."
Scarsdale was quite too happy to be seriously worried over his ignorance of their destination; in fact, he was rather amused at his wife's