“I love Neva, and she loves me,” he said frankly. “She has promised to marry me, and I hope, Sir Harold, that you retain your former good opinion of me, and will sanction our union.”
“We will see,” said the baronet, pressing the young earl’s hand warmly. “It has always been my desire, as it was that of your father, to unite my family to yours. Your face tells me that you have fulfilled the glorious promise of your boyhood. If Neva consents to marry you, my dear Arthur, I shall not refuse my consent.”
Lord Towyn looked his delight, and then cast a quick, inquiring glance at Atkins.
“Does Sir Harold know?” he asked significantly.
“I have told him,” answered the solicitor, “that Miss Wynde has disappeared in the most mysterious manner and that she is in the power of a couple of adventurers—”
Sir Harold interrupted Atkins by a passionate gesture.
“Arthur,” exclaimed the baronet, his proud face drawn with pain. “Atkins tells me that I have been deceived in—in Lady Wynde, and that he has discovered her to be an adventuress, unscrupulous and unprincipled. Is this his prejudice? I cannot give utter credence to it.”
“It is God’s truth, Sir Harold,” said Lord Towyn solemnly, holding the baronet’s hand in a strong, firm pressure. “It is better that you should know the truth from us than to hear it from strangers, or be further deceived by the woman you made your wife. Lady Wynde is an adventuress, bold and false and wicked.”
“You forget that I knew her history even back to her childhood,” cried Sir Harold eagerly. “I did not marry her with my eyes blindfolded. She never attempted to impose herself upon me as other than she was. She made known her whole life to me. She was the daughter of a naval officer, and the niece of Mrs. Hyde, a lady of good family and position, who lives a very retired life in Bloomsbury Square, London. We ate our wedding breakfast in Mrs. Hyde’s house. Lady Wynde’s first husband was the Honorable Charles Hathaway, the younger son of a Viscount. Lady Wynde’s family connections both by birth and marriage are excellent. I knew all this beyond a peradventure before I married her. And yet you call her an adventuress!”
“And so she was, Sir Harold,” exclaimed Atkins. “Her past life, her family and her connections were all you say. Her record was all fair. Not a word had ever been whispered against her reputation, and she went in the best society, and had admirers and suitors. All this I grant. But she was none the less an adventuress at heart. She had an income of three hundred pounds a year and spent a thousand, sponged from relatives, or given her by Craven Black, from his winnings at the gaming table or at the races. She was engaged to marry Craven Black soon after Mr. Hathaway’s death, and before her marriage with you. Mrs. Hyde is not overfond of her niece, and told me this fact herself. This marriage, owing to the meagre fixed income of the pair, was deferred, and finally they conceived the idea that Mrs. Hathaway should contract a wealthy marriage, secure a comfortable jointure, become a widow, and then marry Craven Black. There can be no doubt that your marriage with Mrs. Hathaway was the result of a conspiracy against you by these two villains, male and female—that they had set a trap for you, Sir Harold, and that you fell into it!”