Nevertheless he was, without doubt, distinctly uneasy. He knew that he had been indiscreet, and now was anxious for reassurance. Twice in the last minute he had ended with an assertion of belief in his nephew's trustworthiness.
And it was with a strong feeling of desire to confirm that belief both for his uncle's sake and his own, that Arthur now said,—
"I wish I could do something to help—to help Hubert, I mean. Don't you think I might say something to Mr Kenyon about it? Reason with him? I wouldn't mind doing it in the least. He always seems reasonable enough when we're talking together. A bit hard, perhaps, rather—what shall I say?—not really interested in life, and so on; but not a bit—well—unkind—cruel, if you know what I mean?"
He had expected an almost scornful refusal of his offer to act as an intermediary, but his uncle appeared ready, at least to consider the proposal.
"That's good of you, Arthur," he said, "but there's another thing to be thought of, too; Esther's dead against the engagement."
That announcement instantly stiffened Arthur in his resolve. The thing was worth doing in any case, but the possibility of inflicting defeat upon Miss Kenyon afforded an immense additional inducement.
"I'd like to do it," he said, with sudden ardour.
Joe Kenyon sat up in his chair and turned to face his nephew with an effect of new interest.
"I don't for a moment believe your embassy will make the least difference, my dear boy," he said earnestly; "but I, personally, should be grateful if you'd undertake it. For Hubert's sake. It would be a—a tremendous compensation for him if he were married, and—well, we don't know yet that the old man will oppose the idea. At the same time I suppose you realise what it may mean for you?"
"Mean? Yes. Well, I suppose ..." Arthur began, uncertain of his uncle's precise intention.