“I?” she whispered. “Why, I laughed in his face. I told him that my
very life would be in danger from all the other women he had put the
same question to that very day. And it is true. He has a way with him.
But oh, too reckless! They say that when he goes up to woo a lady in
her drawing-room, he will make proposals to the serving-maid upon the
stairs. He is a rake, m y dear sir.”
“I admit he was when I knew him,” returned Syn. “And so neither of
you took the proposal very seriously, I take it?” he added, with his
heart much lighter.
“He did,” she laughed. “At one time he was so serious in his
protestations that he ran out of our house to the nearest church,
embraced the Catholic Faith, and was surprised that such devotion did
not sway me. But how could I marry a man who would forget the fact
whenever he saw another petticoat in view?”
“Also you would not think of marrying a fool,” whispered Doctor Syn.
“And the man who, having once seen you, could think of another woman
would prove himself the worst of fools, in my thinking.”
“That is very kindly put,” she answered. “But, do you know, I think
that you are even quicker than poor Nicholas in saying the pretty
thing.”
“But I have never said a pretty thing to a lady before in all my
life,” he replied. “And except to you, I never shall. From the first
moment I saw you in the doorway, I knew well that I love d you. I do
love you, and for me there will be no other woman.”
“Then may I ask you a favour—a great favour?” she whispered.
“I will do anything for you,” he whispered back. “What is it?”
“That you will tell me that again when we are alone beneath the
stars? Will you?”
“When? Soon?”
“I hope so, “ she breathed back gently.
Now it was easier than might be imagined for these two young lovers
to whisper about such intimate things. First the girl’s mother, who sat
directly opposite, was slow to understand English, and both her host and
hostess had moved their chairs as close to hers as possible, so that
they could speak the plainer in her ears. Also Sir Henry, who was
secretly enjoying this ripening love affair, tactfully moved a large
bowl of flowers, which screened their faces into a comparative privacy,
and of this Doctor Syn certainly made the best advantage, for just
before Lady Pembury suggested that they should retire to the drawing room and leave the gentlemen to their port, he had taken Imogene’s hand
in his beneath the table, had felt an answering pressure to his own, and
then seen, to his utmost joy, her lips frame silently the words, “I love
you too.”
Then, owing to Sir Henry’s gout, he claimed the privilege of
escorting the ladies to the door, and since the girl was last to leave,
he managed to whisper without the butler hearing, “Upon the terrace.
Soon. Beneath the stars.”
And the look she gave him was assent.
All very romantic, and cleverly done. But Doctor Syn had really no
cause to think, as he did, that he had deceived not only Sir Henry, but
the butler; for as he gazed after the girl until she disappeared into
the drawing-room,
Sir Henry was guilty of bestowing a solemn wink upon the ancient and
stately man-servant, who respectfully and solemnly returned the wink to
his master.
- 14 -
But of this Doctor Syn was ignorant, as he returned to the table and,
picking up his glass, toasted “All beneath the roof of Lympne Castle.”
“Sit down here, Doctor,” said the Squire of Lympne. “I told you that
you seemed to be the sort of young man who can get what he wants, and I
am most eager to help you.”
“That is very good of you, sir,” replied Doctor Syn, with a smile of
gratitude.
“I suggest,” continued Sir Henry, “that I despatch one of my stablemen down to Dymchurch with a note from me to say that you are staying
the night with us here, for it has occurred to me that the evenings
being still long, the stars may be plaguey late coming out upon the
terrace.”
“Faith, sir,” laughed the Doctor, “either I talk too loud, or your
hearing is very acute.”
“Or your speaking is always clear, even in whisperings,” said Sir
Henry. “But listen to my further suggestions, and see if they commend
themselves to you. Tomorrow you will escort the lady and her Spanish
companions to Dymchurch, and make them acquainted with our good friends,
the Cobtrees. Sir Charles, being your guardian, will no doubt be glad
of the opportunity of looking well upon the face and person of the
Senorita, for I may drop such a hint to him in my letter. I then
suggest that while he talks with our Spanish ladies, you take the
opportunity of packing up your traps and having them put into the boot
of my coach. I then suggest that you persuade the Cobtrees how very
essential it is for you to return to Lympne and finish your vacation
with us. Young Cobtree will certainly excuse you, since he must be in
the same frame of mind which your visit to Lympne has framed you in too.
My further suggestion is that, since the Senorita is a keen horsewoman,
and owing to the fact that your whisperings inside the coach might be
too clear, you two shall ride behind the coach at a distance sufficient
to avoid the dust of the wheels. I mention the back of the coach in
order that my good coachman shall have nothing to distract his attention
from the horses before him. And now, if you are in agreement, bring me
those writing materials, and I will pen the letter on the table here.
But let me first recharge our glasses, and drink to Doctor Syn, and one
other that shall be nameless.”
“And to our kind host,” replied the Doctor.
“And since I like to be undisturbed when toiling with the pen,” went
on Sir Henry, “I suggest that when you have helped me finish this
bottle, you rejoin the ladies in the drawing -room.”
Before carrying out this last suggestion, Doctor Syn unfolded his
anxiety concerning the Squire of Iffley, telling Sir Henry in confidence
all that he knew of the uncle and the nephew.
To this, Sir Henry listened gravely, and then asked, “How long is it
since you visited these Tappitt people, then?”
“For nearly a year I have avoided Iffley,” replied Syn. “I formed
the opinion they were not the sort of people with whom a
clerical official of my college should be associated. I have too many
young and impressionable youths under my charge, and have to set them an
example. Warning them against such rakes as the Tappitts, I had in all
honesty to take the warning to myself.”
“And have you heard nothing of the uncle since?” asked Sir Henry.
“Nothing to his credit, believe me, sir.”
“You tell me that he had a bad reputation where women are concerned,”
went on Sir Henry. “But when you knew him, he was a bachelor, I
understand.”
“He certainly had no wife to insult with the presence of the many
questionable ladies that resorted there.”
- 15 -
“Then, since a woman can so often change a man for the better,” said
Sir Henry, “perhaps even Bully Tappitt has mend his ways. I have a
letter here that you may read. The Senora had another couched in the
same terms. As you see, this is addressed to Lady Pembury and myself,
telling us what a pleasure it will be to receive our Spanish guests, and
asking when they may expect them. It is signed, as you see, by Elinor