"A sister of my wife's," Barmouth explained. "It is rather a sad story."
Jack said nothing. But the face looking into his own was the face of Anstruther's servant, Serena.
[CHAPTER XXIII.]
FACE TO FACE.
It was perhaps fortunate for Jack that Lord Barmouth appeared to be engrossed in his own painful thoughts. At any rate he did not seem to notice that his youthful visitor's gaze was fixed so intently upon the photograph. So far as Jack could see, the picture had been taken some years before, and had not that wild, defiant, yet half-sad expression which marked Serena to-day. There was not much time to think, but Jack rapidly made up his mind. He would say nothing to Barmouth of his discovery, but would open up the matter as delicately as possible with Lady Barmouth. It was not a nice thing for a comparative stranger to intrude upon sacred griefs like this, but the discovery was so likely to lead to important results that it would have been folly to hesitate. It was some considerable time later before Jack left Lord Barmouth, who shook him warmly by the hand, and implored him to come again.
"You can imagine what a lonely life mine is," Barmouth murmured; "my wife is devotion itself, but one longs for the company of a man sometimes."
Jack promised sincerely enough that he would come again and often. He had taken a great liking to the lonely man who bore his cruel misfortunes so well. He had not intended at present to worry Lady Barmouth with the recent discovery, but she happened to be crossing the hall, and looked upon Jack eagerly and curiously.
Jack was about to say something to Lady Barmouth, when some one called her, and she turned away. Evidently she had no intention to allow Masefield to leave the house without satisfying herself as to the result of his interview with Lord Barmouth. With this feeling upon him, Jack lingered in the hall. He suddenly recollected that he had left his gloves behind him, and returned for them. He found Barmouth standing before the fireplace, apparently lost in thought. Jack had to speak twice before his host realized the fact that he was no longer alone.
"I came back for my gloves," Jack explained. "I left them on the little table behind there. I am sorry to intrude upon you again, but since you have been so kind to me----"
"On the contrary, it is you who have been so kind to me," Barmouth said. "I am not sorry you came back, because I have been thinking over the interview which we have just concluded. I might have told you a great deal more than I did; indeed, I was perhaps unwise to be so reticent. If you will come and see me again----"