A deep depression spread itself over her hearer’s face.
“Then there go the hopes of twenty years,” he said. “For twenty long years, ever since my misfortune, I have toiled and schemed to get these lands back, and now it is all for nothing. Well, there is nothing more to be said,” and he turned to go.
“Stop a minute, Mr. Caresfoot. Do you know, you interest me very much.”
“I am proud to interest so charming a lady,” he answered, a touch of depressed gallantry.
“That is as it should be; but you interest me because you are an instance of the truth of the saying that every man has some ruling passion, if only one could discover it. Why do you want these particular lands? Your money will buy others just as good.”
“Why does a Swiss get home-sick? Why does a man defrauded of his own wish to recover it?”
Lady Bellamy mused a little.
“What would you say if I showed you an easy way to get them?”
Philip turned sharply round with a new look of hope upon his face.
“You would earn my eternal gratitude—a gratitude that I should be glad to put into a practical shape.”