"If," she said, "your refusal to answer is due to a foolish access of modesty, I shall reply in the affirmative for you, and Mr. Stanley will see the propriety of your attitude, and will, I am sure, excuse its apparent childishness. If, on the other hand, your motive is due to obstinacy, I consider myself privileged to interfere in order to save you from the results of your own foolishness, and I shall still accept for you. Should you so far forget yourself as to oppose my wishes, I shall feel that seclusion and rigorous measures will be necessary—we will leave to-morrow for a six months' course of mud baths in Northern Bavaria, which will be highly beneficial to me, and will give you ample time for reflection on the sins of undutifulness and obstinate pride."
The Dowager paused to watch the effect of her threat. It was all she could have desired.
Lady Isabelle knew Snollenbad by reputation; knew that it was a stuffy, dull, German, provincial town; loathed mud baths; longed for the gaieties of the world as a girl longs who has only had one season; and, worst of all, realised that the settlement of estates and the limitations of leave would make it a six months' exile from her husband. She hesitated, and the Dowager, relying on the proverb, felt that she had won.
"Give me half an hour to consider," she asked.
"There is nothing to consider," replied her mother. "You know what my course of action will be; the future will depend on yours; but you had better retire to your room and think matters over;" and she dismissed her with a gesture.
In spite of her words, however, the Dowager did not feel perfectly secure, and determined to clinch matters in a manner which, had her daughter suspected it, would have moved even that vacillating nature to rebellion. As it was, Lady Isabelle contemplated a confession to Stanley on his return from the drive, in direct disobedience to her husband's commands; which, at the eleventh hour, would have sealed her mother's lips by apprising her of the truth. But fate ordained otherwise, and the Secretary and Miss Fitzgerald were disgracefully late; giving them barely time to rush to their rooms, hurry into evening clothes, and appear in the drawing-room, flushed and breathless as the butler announced dinner.
CHAPTER XXIII
FORTY THOUSAND POUNDS
As the Secretary sat in the governess' cart finishing his second cigar, he reflected that if he had any strength of character he would never have lent his aid in countenancing a secret marriage between one of his best friends, and a man, who, he believed, could be proved guilty of something very nearly approaching treason to the Sovereign whose uniform he wore; nor, for that matter, would he be waiting for a girl who had insulted him by her suspicions of the evening before, and who had capped the climax by taking the refusal of him at her own valuation.