Geoffrey, meanwhile, after a muttered exchange of a few words with his brother, retreated into the recesses of the trees of the park, and Audrey guessed that he was, as it were, on guard, set to watch her movements during his brother’s absence, and to prevent, if necessary, any attempt on her part to break faith.
In the meantime Edgar fulfilled his mission reluctantly enough. Returning to the house, he went straight to the study, where his father was spending the afternoon with his magazines and books.
“What is the matter? Is Gerard worse?” were the viscount’s first words, when his son entered, with a perturbed and uneasy air.
“N-n-no, but—he’s likely to be worse if something I’ve got to tell you is true!” was Edgar’s somewhat blundering reply.
“Well!” said Lord Clanfield sharply.
“There’s a—a—woman come—she’s in the park now, who says—who says she’s—his wife.”
Lord Clanfield looked more relieved than alarmed. He rose to his feet.
“And don’t you think it is his wife? I wish to heaven she would come; for the greatest drawback to his getting better is the terrible depression caused by her disappearance.”
Edgar, with whom tact was not a strong point, went on bluntly:—
“Well, he’ll be more depressed when he sees her.”