“You mean a good marriage?” said Lord Selvaine.
“Yes!” said Mr. Helby, eagerly; “and it would be so easy. His lordship could marry wherever he pleased! Do you think,” anxiously, “he could be persuaded to do it?”
“We shall see,” said Lord Selvaine. “I may say, my dear Mr. Helby, that I am using my powers in that direction. We shall see.”
Trafford went back to the drawing-room, and went up to Lilias. She scanned his pale face anxiously.
“Oh, Trafford!” she said.
“Yes, Lilias,” he said. “Mr. Helby has been speaking plainly, and like most plain speeches, it has hurt. I must go up to town to-morrow morning early.”
“What are you going to do, Trafford?” she asked in a low voice.
“I am going to try to do my duty,” he said. “Go to bed now, dear; it is late.”
She obeyed instantly. He went with her to the foot of the stairs, and when she had disappeared, he stood and looked round him. And in his mind’s eye, he saw a greasy Jew lolling in the carved oak chair, with the tattered flags above him, and the faces of the dead and gone Belfayres looking down from the wall at the vulgar usurper.
He went back to town the next day, and took a hansom to the house in Eaton Square, in which Lady Ada Lancing lived with her guardian, Lady Grange. He asked for Lady Ada, and was shown into the small drawing-room, and stood gnawing his under lip, and looking out of the window, with eyes that saw nothing, waiting for her to appear.