“I don’t think anything of the sort can be thought of now. In fact I would not give my consent to an immediate marriage. I feel certain that my son, too, would refuse to take advantage of his position to suggest it.”
“I think,” said Sir Jacques quietly, “that the suggestion in any case would have to come from Miss Rose.”
And then, for the first time, Rose lost control of herself. She became agitated, tearful—in her eagerness she put her hand on Sir John’s breast, and looking piteously up into his face, “Of course I want to marry him at once!” she said brokenly. “Every time I have had to leave him in the last few days I have felt miserable. You see, I feel married to him already, and if you feel married, it’s so very strange not to be married.”
She began to laugh helplessly, and the more, shocked at what she was doing, she tried to stop, the more she laughed.
Sir Jacques came quickly forward. “Come, come!” he said sharply, and taking her by the arm he shook her violently. “This won’t do at all——” he gave a warning look at the other man. “Of course Miss Rose will do exactly what she wishes to do! She’s quite right in saying that she’s as good as married to him already, Sir John. And it’s our business—yours, hers, and mine—to think of Jervis, and of Jervis only just now. But she won’t be able to do that if she allows herself to be upset!”
“I’m so sorry—please forgive me!” Rose, to her own measureless relief, had stopped laughing, but she felt oddly faint and queer. Sir Jacques poured out a very small wineglassful of brandy, and made her drink it. How odd to have a bottle of brandy here, in Mr. Robey’s study! Mr. Robey was a teetotaller.
“Would you like me to go up to Jervis now?” asked Sir John slowly.
Sir Jacques looked into the speaker’s face. It was generally a clear, healthy tan colour; now it had gone quite grey. “No,” he said. “Not now. If you will forgive me for making a suggestion, I should advise that you and Miss Rose take Lady Blake out somewhere for an hour’s walk. There’s nothing like open air and a high road for calming the nerves.”
“I would rather not see my wife just now,” muttered Sir John frowning.
But Sir Jacques answered sternly, “I’m afraid I must ask you to do so; and once you’ve got her out of doors for an hour, I’ll give her a sleeping draught. She’ll be all right to-morrow morning. I don’t want any tears round my patient.”