Lambert, having determined to declare himself to Deering, was less nervously anxious to keep in hiding, and even drove with Glynn and Elsie as far as Lady Gethin's the morning of the day the latter were to start for the Continent. He wanted, he said, to see the last of his child.
"The last for the next few weeks," corrected Glynn.
"May be so, may be so," said Lambert, with a sad ring in his voice.
Lady Gethin made him welcome, and at once evinced an inclination to pet Elsie, who was too much overcome by the dread of leaving her father to heed the minute kindnesses heaped upon her.
"Don't be too downcast about her," said Lady Gethin, who was in her element at the head of affairs and in the centre of a romantic mystery. "When she is clear away, and has had a few cheering letters from her father, she will be all right. The sooner he makes things square with Deering the better. I can never believe he would be such a headstrong idiot as to throw away a splendid estate and high position for the sake of mere revenge."
"Mere revenge! It is a powerful incentive. Remember the ill-health of that crippled boy of his! I doubt if he cares to transmit much to him, and then he no doubt counts on a compromise that he would be left the life-use of the property."
"To which I hope and trust you would never consent, Hugh! I'd take that wretch's skin off, if I could! In fact I have set my heart on seeing you master of Denham one of these days. It is infamous that wickedness should flourish in high places."
"I prefer keeping my word to Lambert that Elsie should never know how her real father died, to possessing the finest property in the kingdom."
"Well, you need not break your word; neither need you be Quixotic."
These sentences were exchanged in the dining-room, from which Lambert and Elsie had retired to have a few words in private in Lady Gethin's boudoir. Thither she and Glynn followed them, the latter drawing Elsie into the conservatory adjoining.