Meantime Lord Rotherwood had time to explain that he was on his way to fetch his wife home from some German baths, where she had gone to recruit after the season; and, as he meant to cross at night, had come to spend a few hours with his cousin. There was still an hour to spare, during which Lady Merrifield insisted that he must have more solid food than G.F.S. provided.
‘Lily,’ said Miss Mohun, as the elders walked to the house together, ‘it strikes me that Rotherwood could satisfy your mind about that letter. He would know the handwriting. You remember a certain brother—very much in law—of Maurice’s?’
‘I have reason to do so,’ said Lord Rotherwood. ‘You don’t mean that he has been troubling Lily?’
‘No; but from the nature of the animal it is much to be apprehended that he will,’ said Miss Mohun, ‘if he knows that the child is here.’
‘In fact,’ said Lady Merrifield, ‘Jane has made me suppress, till examination, a letter to her, in case it should be from him. It is a horrid thing to do. What do you think, Rotherwood?’
‘There should be no correspondence. Did not Maurice warn you? Then he ought. Look here, Lily. His wife—under strong compulsion from the fellow, I should think—begged me to find some employment for him. I got him a secretaryship to our Board of—what d’ye call it? I’ll do Maurice the justice to say that he was considerably cool about it; but the end of it was that there was an unaccountable deficit, and my lady said it served me right. I was a fool, as I always am, and gave way to the poor woman about not bringing it home to him. And she insisted on making it up to me by degrees—out of her literary work, I fancy—for I don’t think Maurice knew the extent of the peculation. Ever since I’ve been getting begging letters from the fellow at intervals. If he had the impertinence to molest you, Lily, simply refer him to me.’
‘And if he writes to the child?’
‘Return him the letter. Say she can have no such thing without her father’s consent.’
‘Is this a case in point?’ said Lady Merrifield, producing the letter.
‘No,’ said he, holding it up in the waning light. ‘I know the fellow’s fist too well! This is a gentleman’s hand.’