CHAPTER XIX.
After the excitement of the past few days, and her terrible experience in Hamburg, to say nothing of the fact that she had landed from a steamer under peculiar circumstances, and had been tramping the country half the night, it is not to be wondered at that by the time we reached Park Lane Valerie was completely knocked up. Pharos had accordingly insisted that she should at once retire to her room and endeavour to obtain the rest of which she stood so much in need.
"For the next few weeks—that is to say, until the end of the Season—I intend that you shall both enjoy yourselves," he said with the utmost affability, when we were alone together, "to the top of your bent. And that reminds me of something, Forrester. Your betrothal must be announced as speedily as possible. It is due to Valerie that this should be done. I presume you do not wish the engagement to be a long one?"
"Indeed I do not," I answered, not, however, without a slight feeling of surprise that he should speak so openly and so soon upon the subject. "As you may suppose, it cannot be too short to please me. And our marriage?"
"Your marriage can take place as soon after the Season as you please," he continued with the same extraordinary geniality. "You will not find me placing any obstacles in your way."
"But you have never asked me as to my means, or my power to support her," I said, putting his last remark aside as if I had not heard it.
"I have not," he answered. "There is no need for me to do so. Your means are well known to me; besides, it has always been my intention to make provision for Valerie myself. Provided you behave yourselves, and do not play me any more tricks such as I had to complain of in Hamburg, you will find that she will bring you a handsome little nest-egg that will make it quite unnecessary for you ever to feel any anxiety on the score of money. But we will discuss all that more fully later on. See, here are a number of invitations that have arrived for us. It looks as if we are not likely to be dull during our stay in London."
So saying, he placed upwards of fifty envelopes before me, many of which I was surprised to find were addressed to myself. These I opened with the first feeling of a return to my old social life that I had experienced since I had re-entered London. The invitations hailed, for the most part, from old friends. Some were for dinners, others for musical "at homes," while at least a dozen were for dances, one of the last-named being from the Duchess of Amersham.
"I have taken the liberty of accepting that on your behalf," said Pharos, picking the card up. "The Duchess of Amersham and I are old friends, and I think it will brighten Valerie and yourself up a little if we look in at her ball for an hour or so to-night."