“How do you propose to go home?” said Douglas.
“Walk to St. James’s Street, where the carriage is waiting at the club; take Uncle Reginald with us; and drive home through the park,” said Elinor.
“I will come with you as far as the club, if you will allow me,” said
Douglas.
Conolly then took leave of them, and stood still until they disappeared, when he returned to the courtyard, and went up to his sister’s carriage.
“Well, Susanna,” said he. “How are you?”
“Oh, there’s nothing the matter with me,” she replied carelessly, her eyes filling with tears, nevertheless.
“I hear that I have been an uncle for some time past.”
“Yes, on the wrong side of the blanket.”
“What is its name?” he said more gravely.
“Lucy.”
“Is it quite well?”
“I suppose not. According to Nurse, it is always ill.”
Conolly shrugged his shoulders, and relapsed into the cynical manner in which he had used to talk with his sister. “Tired of it already?” he said. “Poor little wretch!”
“It is very well off,” she retorted, angrily: “a precious deal better than I was at its age. It gets petting enough from its father, heaven knows! He has nothing else to do. I have to work.”
“You have it all your own way at the theatre now, I suppose. You are quite famous.”
“Yes,” she said, bitterly. “We are both celebrities. Rather different from old times.”
“We certainly used to get more kicks than halfpence. However, let us hope all that is over now.”
“Who were those women who were with you a minute ago?”
“Cousins of Lind. Miss Marian Lind and Miss McQuinch.”
“I remember. She is pretty. I suppose, as usual, she hasnt an idea to bless herself with. The other looks more of a devil. Now that you are a great man, why dont you marry a swell?”
“I intend to do so.”
“The Lord help her then!”
“Amen. Goodbye.”
“Oh, goodbye. Go on to Soho,” she added, to the coachman, settling herself fretfully on the cushions.
CHAPTER IX
On Monday morning Douglas received a note inviting him to lunch at Mr. Lind’s club. He had spent the greater part of the previous night composing a sonnet, which he carried with him in his pocket to St. James’s Street. Mr. Lind received him cordially; listened to an account of his recent stay abroad; and described his own continental excursions, both gentlemen expressing great interest at such coincidences as their having put up at the same hotel or travelled by the same line of railway. When luncheon was over, Mr. Lind proposed that they should retire to the smoking-room.
“I should like to have a few words with you first, as we are alone here,” said Douglas.
“Certainly,” said Mr. Lind, assuming a mild dignity in anticipation of being appealed to as a parent. “Certainly, Sholto.”
“What I have to say, coming so soon after my long absence, will probably surprise you. I had it in contemplation before my departure, and was only prevented from broaching it to you then by circumstances which have happily since lost their significance. When I tell you that my communication has reference to Marian, you will perhaps guess its nature.”
“Indeed!” said Mr. Lind, affecting surprise. “Well, Sholto, if it be so, you have my heartiest approval. You know what a lonely life her marriage will entail on me; so you will not expect me to consent without a few regrets. But I could not desire a better settlement for her. She must leave me some day. I have no right to complain.”
“We shall not be very far asunder, I hope; and it is in Marian’s nature to form many ties, but to break none.”
“She is an amiable girl, my — my darling child. Does she know anything of this?”
“I am here at her express request; and there remains to me the pleasure of getting her own final consent, which I would not press for until armed with your sanction.”
Except for an involuntary hitch of his eyelids, Mr. Lind looked as if he believed perfectly in Douglas’s respect for his parental claims. “Quite right,” he said, “quite right. You have my best wishes. I have no doubt you will succeed: none. There are, of course, a few affairs to be settled — a few contingencies to be provided for — children — accidents — and so forth. No difficulty is likely to arise between us on that score; but still, these things have to be arranged.”
“I propose a very simple method of arranging them. You are a man of honor, and more conversant with business than I. Give me your instructions. My lawyer shall have them within half an hour.”
“That is said like a gentleman and a Douglas, Sholto. But I must consider before giving you an answer. You have thrown upon me the duty of studying your position as well as Marian’s; and I must neither abuse your generosity nor neglect her interest.”
“You will, nevertheless, allow me to consider the conditions as settled, since I leave them entirely in your hands.”
“My own means have been seriously crippled by the extravagance of Reginald. Indeed both my boys have cost me much money. I had not, like you, the good fortune to be an only son. I was the fourth son of a younger son: there was very little left for me. I will treat Marian as liberally as I can; but I fear I cannot do anything for her that will bear comparison with your munificence.”
“Surely I can give her enough. I should prefer to be solely responsible for her welfare.”
“Oh no. That would be too bad. Oh no, Sholto: I will give her something, please God.”
“As you wish, Mr. Lind. We can arrange it to your satisfaction afterward. Do you intend returning to Westbourne Terrace soon?”
“I am afraid not. I have to go into the City. If you would care to come with me, I can shew you the Company’s place there, and the working of the motor. It is well worth seeing. Then you can return with me to the Terrace and dine with us. After dinner you can talk to Marian.”
Douglas consented; and they went to Queen Victoria Street, to a building which had on each doorpost a brass shield inscribed THE CONOLLY ELECTRO-MOTOR COMPANY OF LONDON, LIMITED. At the offices, on the first floor, they were received obsequiously and informed that Mr. Conolly was within. They then went to a door on which appeared the name of the inventor, and entered a handsomely furnished office containing several working models of machinery, and a writing-table, from his seat at which Conolly rose to salute his visitors.
“Good evening, Mr. Lind. How do you do, Mr. Douglas?”
“Oh!” said Mr. Lind. “You two are acquainted. I did not know that.”
“Yes,”