Adrien Leroy Part 20

Nothing more could be said under the circ.u.mstances, and Adrien was perforce obliged to spend the evening as best he might, turning over the pages of his cousin's music, and watching her with longing, ardent eyes; while Miss Penelope sat near by, tactlessly wide awake.

Presently she glanced up.

"Adrien, did you ask your father about the ball?" she asked.

Her nephew looked abashed. Truth to tell, he had completely forgotten it.

"No," he admitted candidly, "I did not. But forgive me, this time; I will ask him to-night."

A little later the ladies rose to retire.

"Good-night, my dear boy," said Miss Penelope, gathering up her precious book and chocolates. "You go to town to-morrow? Oh, then, I shall not see you again. Good-bye; and don't forget about the ball."

Adrien held the door open for her, and she pa.s.sed out; then he closed it again.

"Good-night, Constance," he said, gazing longingly into his cousin's face.

"Good-night," she said, giving him her hand. "Good-night, and a pleasant journey."

"Will you not wish me a speedy return?"

"That might be an ill wish," she answered lightly--"if you did not care to come."

"You know I do," he whispered, and he raised her fingers to his lips.

With a vivid blush, Lady Constance withdrew her hand from his grasp, and left the room. Going straight up to her own apartment, she flung herself on her knees. The kiss he had impressed on her fingers seemed to burn them; the sound of his voice rang in her ears; yet, with a strength of mind extraordinary in a girl so young, she put away the sweetness of his half-formed declaration, hoping that his journey to town meant the cutting free of all entanglements, and the settling of his affairs.

Early the following morning, the sound of a motor, and the barking of dogs, brought Lady Constance to her window; below her was Adrien, followed by a servant with the travelling case, which was placed beside the chauffeur.

Adrien had already entered the car, and was about to have it set in motion, when a sudden idea seemed to strike him, and he glanced up at Lady Constance's window. Seeing this, she opened the cas.e.m.e.nt and stood framed by the surrounding greenery.

Adrien waved his hand to her; then, hastily scribbling something in a note-book, he tore the page out, and evidently despatched it by one of the waiting servants.

She watched every movement, with eyes s.h.i.+ning with eagerness, and could have cried bitterly at the thought of his absence. She knew, too, that she was playing a dangerous game, when she allowed him to return to town, his pa.s.sion still undeclared; yet she felt that this was the only means of holding his affections; for she was a firm believer in the adage--"Absence makes the heart grow fonder." She sighed deeply, however, as with a parting wave of his hand, and bareheaded, Adrien was rapidly driven away.

A few minutes later the servant brought her the hastily written note. It was only a sc.r.a.p of paper, and unfolding it, she read the two lines:

"My father grants us the ball. We will make it an eventful one.--ADRIEN."

Her face glowed. "We will, indeed," she murmured. "It is a high stake I play for; but it is worth the struggle. Heaven grant me his whole heart!

I ask nothing else."

Carefully locking the sc.r.a.p of paper away, she descended into the morning-room, where Lord Barminster was already seated at the breakfast-table. His grim face softened at the entry of the girl he had always looked upon as a daughter, and loved even more intensely--if that were possible--now that he meant to win her for his son's bride.

"So Adrien has left us again?" he began, as she poured out his coffee.

She flushed slightly at his significant tones.

"Yes," she replied. "Uncle, thank you so much for letting us have the ball----"

"Nonsense, my dear" he returned. "Adrien told me you wanted it, and that was sufficient. Why didn't you ask me yourself? Have I been such a cruel guardian?"

"No, no," she cried, and coming round to him impulsively, she pressed her lips to his forehead. "You've been the dearest uncle in the world.

Indeed, no father could have been better."

He smiled at her earnestness.

"I've done my best, my dear, though I admit I'd like you for my very own daughter-in-law."

Lady Constance blushed scarlet. This was carrying the war into the enemy's camp with a vengeance.

"'n.o.body axed me, sir, she said,'" she sang gaily.

"Ah, but whose fault is that?" asked Lord Barminster, pleased that she had not refused to discuss the question.

"Please, Uncle Philip," she said, with a sudden quiver in her voice, "I'd rather not talk about it--if you don't mind."

"Quite right, my dear," replied Lord Barminster, patting her hand rea.s.suringly.

For a few minutes there was silence. His lords.h.i.+p drank his coffee, while his companion stared dreamily through the window at the magnificent view of park and woods. The old man was the first to speak.

"We shall miss Lord Standon," he said, with a meaning glance at her.

Lady Constance looked up with a start; then, as she realised the significance of this simple statement, she smiled. She knew she could trust her uncle not to betray her woman's secret; and, though she had no scruple in using Lord Standon as a means to spur on Adrien, she would not allow the old man to be worried unnecessarily by doubts of her fidelity to his beloved son.

"Yes," she answered, quietly. "But he only came down for the race; and I daresay he was anxious to rejoin his fiancee."

It was her uncle's turn to start, and his intense surprise told Lady Constance only too well that her speculations were correct. Adrien had believed her in love with Lord Standon, and his father had undertaken to find out the truth. She was not afraid of Adrien's being undeceived now; for, even if Lord Barminster wrote--which was very unlikely--the spur would have done its work.

"I did not know he was engaged," the old man exclaimed.

"No, the news has not been made public; but he told me in confidence,"

Lady Constance returned calmly, as she rose from the breakfast-table.

Then, having seen her companion installed with his newspaper, she pa.s.sed out to the terrace.

To the astonishment of every one in Barminster Castle, some few hours later, Mr. Vermont reappeared.

In his turn he seemed quite as surprised when he learned that Leroy had already returned to London.

"Gone," he echoed, "just a few hours ago? Dear! dear! I must have missed him by telling my chauffeur to take the road across the moor."

He entered the Castle while he was speaking, and the servants hastened to learn his commands; for, next to the sun, there is nothing better than the moon--next to the Hon. Adrien came his friend and agent, Mr.

Jasper Vermont. But Jasper waved them amiably aside, as he entered the dining-room.

"You would like some luncheon, sir?" inquired the butler, coming forward respectfully.

Jasper nodded.