Gerard, whose flushed face looked human once more, the death-like pallor and dull eyes having become transformed, looked at his wife with amazement mingled with his joy.
“What is this wonderful thing that I’m to hear and not to believe?” he asked, looking with a joyous smile from his wife to his uncle, and now dimly conscious that something was not quite right between these two.
Audrey had withdrawn herself from his embrace, and was supporting him on her strong young arm, facing the viscount the while.
“I have to tell you, Gerard, something you won’t like to hear. While you were away, I made up my mind to try to make some money, and I’ve gone—into well, business, trade. I’ve had, of course, to sink my own name, and that is why you could not find me. Now Lord Clanfield very naturally disapproves of any connection of his family being engaged in this way, and I am conscious that he is within his rights in objecting. I think you might perhaps object too.”
“Well, it is rather astonishing!” gasped Gerard, to whom the constrained tone in which the information was conveyed was rather disturbing. “But, of course, you can give it up, can’t you?”
She threw one imploring look at Lord Clanfield, to ascertain whether he would accept that as sufficient propitiation. But one glance was enough to show her that he would not.
“Unfortunately,” she answered, with a trembling voice, “I can’t—and I won’t—at present. Unless Lord Clanfield wishes it.”
“My wishes have nothing to do with it,” said Lord Clanfield coldly.
Then she understood that the decision lay with her still.
“I won’t give it up,” she said quietly, “and I won’t let you, Gerard, have anything to do with it. You are ill; you need care, more care than I could give you. And I am strong and eager to make money. Will you, Lord Clanfield, take care of him, so that I can go quietly on with my work without any one’s knowing who I am, or what my name is?”