‘Can’t you come earlier?’
‘Not without exciting the suspicions of my parents, and making my mother resolve to sit up to let me in again. It will be better as I say. At nine o’clock, or a little after, I shall be there. I hope the registrar will not blab the news of our marriage through Usk before that time.’
‘I think not. I pledged him to secrecy with a golden tip. But to-morrow everyone must know it, both at Usk Hall and Panty-cuckoo Farm.’
‘Oh, yes; certainly! To-morrow everyone must know it,’ replied Nell, in the same impassive tone; ‘and now we had better think of going back, Mr Portland.’
‘Not “Mr Portland” now, Nell, surely!’ said her companion. ‘You must call me “Jack.”’
‘“Jack!”’ repeated the girl, as if she were saying a lesson.
They rose together as she spoke, and proceeded towards the Hall. When they reached the farm gates, Nell slipped from him without any further farewell, and entered her father’s house. Jack Portland looked after her a little wistfully. He had married her, certainly, but had he gained her? Had she done it only to save Lord Ilfracombe from further disgrace and ruin—to save his countess’s reputation for the sake of his hitherto unblemished name? He was not quite sure, but he had a shrewd suspicion of the truth, and as Mr Portland turned away, he sighed.
Lady Ilfracombe was in high spirits at luncheon that afternoon. Jack had actually compromised himself to the degree of writing to assure her she should receive back her letters, and for the first time, perhaps, she really believed him. Her eyes were dancing, and her cheeks flushed with expectation. When her husband asked her how she intended to spend the afternoon, she actually laughed across the table at Mr Portland, as she replied, that she had promised to take a stroll with his friend.
‘Old Jack and you going botanising together;’ exclaimed Ilfracombe; ‘that is a good joke. Well, I was going to ask him to ride over to Pontypool with me, but I suppose your sex gives you the prior claim.’
‘I should rather think so,’ said the countess; ‘at least, if Mr Portland deserts me, it will be the last time I ever make an appointment with him, so mind that, Mr Portland!’