"You would!" I couldn't resist sputtering. But he took no notice.
"You needn't be afraid that Aunt Gwen's in this," he went on to assure me. "I've kept mum as an oyster. All she knows is that I saw you—Miss Lethbridge—in Paris, and haven't been the same man since. She helped me get to know you, of course. She's a great chum of mine, and her being an old pal of Sir Lionel's too, meant a lot for me in the beginning. She's a ripper, and stanch as they make 'em—but they don't make 'em perfectly stanch where other women are concerned. And as long as you and I hunt in couples she shan't have a suspicion."
"You'd tell her, if I refused to hunt in that way?" I asked.
"I might think it my duty to let Sir Lionel know how he's being humbugged. At present I'm shuttin' my eyes to duty, and lookin' at you. What?"
"Why does Mrs. Senter want to come with us?" I ventured to inquire.
"Because," explained her loyal nephew, "she's fed up with visiting, and she loves motoring. So do I, with the right people. I'm sure it's not much to ask. We won't sponge on Sir Lionel. We'll pay our own hotel bills; and I'm sure, even though you are in a wax with me just now, you must admit Aunt Gwen and I would wake things up a bit—what? All's fair in love and war, so you oughtn't to blame me for anything I've done. You'd think it jolly well romantic if you read it in a book."
I denied this, but said I would consider. He must give me till to-morrow morning to make up my mind; which he flatly refused to do. To-morrow would be too late. He saw in my eye that I hoped to slip off, but it was "no good my being foxy." Things must be fixed up, or blown up, on board this ship to-night.
Whether or not he really meant to do his worst, if I wouldn't give in, I can't be sure, but he looked as obstinate as six pigs, and I didn't dare risk Ellaline's future. My own impression is that there's a big mistake somewhere, and that she would be perfectly safe in Sir Lionel's hands if she would tell him frankly all about Honoré du Guesclin—I, meanwhile, vanishing through a stage trap or something. But she may be right. And I may be wrong. That's why I was forced to promise Dick. And I kept my promise, as soon as we got home to our hotel—Sir Lionel, Mrs. Norton, and I.
I knew it would be a most horrid thing to do, but it was even horrider than I thought.
All the way going back I was planning what to say, and feeling damp on the forehead, thinking how impudent it would seem in me, a young girl and a guest, to make such a suggestion. But it had to be done, so I screwed up my courage, swallowed half of it again, with a lump in my throat, and exclaimed in a gay, spontaneous way, like the sweet, innocent angel I am: "Oh, Sir Lionel, wouldn't it be fun if Mrs. Senter and—and her nephew were going with us for a little way? They both love motoring."