The baronet remembered what Victor Carrington had said about Douglas
Dale; but he could not for one moment believe that his cousin—a man
whom he considered infinitely beneath him—had the power to win Paulina
Durski's affection.
"She may perhaps encourage him," he said to himself, "especially now that his income is doubled. She might even accept him as a husband—women are so mercenary. But her heart will never cease to be mine."
Sir Reginald waited a week, a fortnight, but there came no letter from Paulina. He called on Carrington, according to appointment, but his friend had changed his mind, or his tactics, and gave him no explanation.
Victor had been a daily visitor at Hilton House during the week which had intervened since the day he had dined there and been introduced to Douglas Dale. His observation had enabled him to decide upon accelerating the progress of his designs. The hold which Paulina had obtained upon Douglas Dale's affection was secure; he had proposed to her much sooner than Victor had anticipated; the perfect understanding and confidence subsisting between them rendered the cautious game which he had intended to play unnecessary, and he did not now care how soon a final rupture between Paulina and Reginald should take place. Indeed, for two of his purposes—the establishment of an avowed quarrel between Douglas Dale and his cousin, Sir Reginald, and the infliction of ever-growing injury on Paulina's reputation,—the sooner such a rupture could be brought about the better. Therefore Victor Carrington assumed a tone of reserve and mystery, which did not fail to exasperate Sir Reginald.
"Do not question me, Reginald," he said. "You are afflicted with a lack of moral courage, and your want of nerve would only enfeeble my hand. Know nothing—expect nothing. Those who are at work for you know how to do their work quietly. Oh, by the way, I want you to sign a little document—very much the style of thing you gave me at Raynham Castle."
Nothing could be more careless than the Frenchman's tone and manner as he said this; but the document in question was a deed of gift, by which Reginald Eversleigh bestowed upon Victor Carrington the clear half of whatever income should arise to him, from real or personal property, from the date of the first day of June following.
"I am to give you half my income?"
"Yes, my dear Reginald, after the first of next June. You know that I am working laboriously to bring about good fortune for you. You cannot suppose that I am working for nothing. If you do not choose to sign this document, neither do I choose to devote myself any longer to your interest."
"And what if you fail?"
"If I fail, the document in question is so much waste paper, since you have no income at present, nor are likely to have any income between this and next June, unless by my agency."