“You are right,” he said, half-gloatingly, half-fearfully; “you and I are out of the game, dear Lady Grace; but I think—I really do think that dear Lord Cecil is in the same boat! Yes, Mr. Levant has been one too many for us all. All! My dear Cecil, you have my profound sympathy in the loss of the young lady you had set your heart on. My dear marquis, if I may be permitted to offer a word of humble advice, I should recommend you to forgive your newly found daughter, the ballet girl—no! pardon, the actress; and welcome as a son-in-law the gentleman upon whom she has bestowed her hand. It is true that he is an adventurer; that he sprang from the gutter; that he bought her and captured her by a plot; but he is her husband after all, and, really, he is no worse than the stock from which she sprang. He will be a worthy addition to the house of Stoyle! Forgive the young couple—the adventurer and the actress—and make them happy with your blessing. Do! my dear marquis.”
Lord Cecil’s hand closed spasmodically, but he kept it at his side; Percy Levant stood silent and impassive, and the marquis merely raised his eyes from the paper upon which they had been fixed.
“I—I really don’t think we need remain any longer, dear Lady Grace,” murmured Spenser Churchill. “I really don’t think we have any right to intrude upon this happy family party. We must leave them to settle their little differences, eh? Allow me to escort you to your hotel. I have to preside at a charitable meeting in London the day after to-morrow, alas! or I should like to remain and see the mutual reconciliation; but duty—duty.” He crept nearer the door and offered his arm, but Lady Grace, with a haughty gesture, waved him off.
“No? You would like to linger till the denouement? Yes? Then I must go alone——”
“Stop!” said Percy Levant, quietly.
Spenser Churchill pulled up and looked at him sideways. “I—I beg your pardon.”
“Move at your peril,” said Percy, sternly.
Spenser Churchill sidled toward the window, and with a quick movement threw it open.
“You mean to threaten me, detain me, offer me violence, my dear Percy,” he said, with a leer. “I think not. If any person—any person,” and he glanced at Lord Cecil, “presumes to prevent my departure, I shall call for assistance. There are police in the street, who will protect me, an English gentleman of unblemished character and honorable repute. There are police, I say.”
“There are,” said Percy Levant, quietly and incisively. “There is an English detective at the door ready to arrest you.”