"I may have guessed the person in her mind; but, as you will feel no interest in that side of the subject, I'll not bore you by dwelling on it at present. The interest for you in Garth's being in love with a woman who is not our Marise (no matter who!) is obvious. If the child is right in her conjectures, she is also right, no doubt, in asserting that she need have no fear the man will lose his head.
"In reading over what I have just written, I see that I may have given you a wrong impression. It sounds as if I had resigned myself to see Marise go off to live alone with Garth in his house by the abyss. Which is not the case, of course. I shall be with her. That is, I shall be most of the time—the best bargain I can drive! Except that, naturally, Céline will always be with her. And if Garth is a Demon, Céline can be a dragon. She has learned this art from Me. She is absolutely faithful, and devoted to your interests. In order to make sure of her services when needed in any possible emergency, I have more or less confided in her, which I think was wise.
"Now, before I write further, I will set your mind at rest as far as possible.
"Garth has used the power he holds to the uttermost, and no entreaties on the part of author or manager have moved him. Marise is to give up the part of Dolores in a fortnight, and Susanne Neville begins rehearsing to-morrow! Poor Sheridan, poor Belloc! Poor play! Poor public! My daughter is immediately after to start for the West with her 'husband'—and maid! I wished to be of the party, but Garth brutally inquired if 'that sort of thing was done in the smart set'—mothers-in-law accompanying bridal pairs on their honeymoon? If I wanted gossip, there would be a good way to get it, he said. He is continually throwing gossip in our faces, whenever we propose anything he doesn't like!
"After a most exhausting (to me) argument, it was settled that I should remain in New York for a few days after their departure, and that I should then leave also, going straight on to Los Angeles. There I will open beautiful Bell Towers, and see that all is ready for your advent, with the invalid. Meanwhile Marise is to visit some sort of female named Mooney, an adopted mother of Garth. She lives near a town called Albuquerque, which if I don't forget is in New Mexico. You can perhaps look it up on the map. Garth appears to have cause for gratitude to this woman, who is an elderly widow. He has spent some years (I don't know how many, and do not care!) in that State and the neighbouring one of Arizona; and I gather from one or two words he let drop that he gave Mrs. Mooney the house she now owns. In any case, he said he must pay her a visit, not having seen her since the time when he joined the British forces at the beginning of the war. And if he went, his wife would have to go with him!
"The man evidently expected that Marise would object; but in the circumstances the idea seemed quite a good one! You see why, of course, dear Tony? This old woman will be an extra chaperon for our girl, whose wild impulsiveness has brought so much worry and trouble to us all. Garth cannot make scenes before his foster-mother, for the very shame of it!
"After a short visit there, he will take Marise and Céline to his own place: and you may be sure I shall not be long in joining my child, to give her my protection!
"Do, my dear son-to-be, hurry on your marriage. You must cable me the moment you get this, when you are likely to arrive, addressing me here, where I shall still be at that time. All our difficulties will end when you are able to hand Garth the million dollars. (I quite understand it would be imprudent to send a cheque or a letter to him. Who knows what desperate thing he might do when he had got the money?) The one safe thing will be a conversation, and the money in bonds. Then, as you suggested, you can dictate a document for Garth to sign, compromising to him but not to you. You can also dictate terms—as you would have done from the first, if Marise had not tried to punish you—by punishing herself! But oh, let it be soon—soon! The strain is telling upon my nerves—and no doubt the nerves of Marise, though she is singularly reserved with me, I regret to say—one would almost think sulky, poor child!
"I can't express the pain it gives me to upset you with all these anxieties. But I dared not keep silence, lest you should learn of this journey West, and so on, through some garbled story in the newspapers. You might then think the worst; whereas now, you are in the secret of your dear girl's safety. No harm will come to her: and thank goodness there will be no tittle-tattle to rouse Mr. Ionides's suspicions!
"I presume you will marry your cousin by special licence, so as to hurry things on; and I comfort myself by thinking that before many days all will be en train. Perhaps in a fortnight after you reach England you will be arranging to leave again for the benefit of the invalid's health. California is the most wonderful place in the world for a cure. But, of course, the poor Œnone is incurable, and is not likely to be with you on this earth for more than a year or two at worst—I mean, at most.