"You will stay with us to-night, chère Elsie?" cried Madame Davilliers from the carriage.
"A thousand thanks, but I should rather go home; I have caught cold, I think." Her voice was unsteady, and Glynn noticed that she was trembling. He longed to speak some soothing words to her, but there was no possibility of doing so. The next moment the door was shut, the coachman ordered to drive to the Rue de L'Evêque, and Glynn left gazing after the retreating vehicle.
Bidding good-night to young Le Clerc, who was returning to the ball-room, Glynn lit his cigar, and walked slowly down the Rue de Rivoli. It was a heavy, intensely dark night; but he was too much excited to feel atmospheric influences. In his own mind he had passed the rubicon; and his request to Elsie for an interview on the morrow had, he considered, pledged him to offer his future life for her acceptance. Would she accept it? He was too deeply and truly in love to make sure of the impression he had created himself, too much in earnest not to be humble. Elsie had been startled, touched; but it did not follow that she loved him. However she decided, he was glad he had spoken as he did. She must know what his intended explanation meant; would she have promised to hear it if she were not disposed to hear it favorably? If!—what rapture of anticipation shivered through him at the possibilities thus suggested. Then he almost laughed aloud at the idea of Lady Gethin's anger and despair at such a marriage as he contemplated. He even pictured a future home, so peaceful, so lovingly home-like, that not even the tolerably frequent visits of Lambert in his gorgeous array and most anecdotal mood should disturb its delicious harmony! The first faint streaks of daylight were stealing across the eastern sky when Glynn at length entered his hotel.
The porter handed him his key, and with it a card, on which was printed, "Travers Deering, Denham Castle," and written in pencil, "Want particularly to see you. Will call to-morrow about two."
"What an infernal nuisance!" was Glynn's rather profane reflection; "he shall not keep me here after 2.30 if it were to save his life!"
Deering was not punctual. It was already two o'clock when he presented himself, and he at once asked Glynn to let their interview take place in the latter's private room, as he wished to speak of personal matters. They therefore adjourned from the general salon, and Deering quickly plunged into his subject, which was to ask Glynn's advice as to the organizing of a scheme for making a branch from the main line of railway, which ran within eight or nine miles of Denham, to some villages on his estate, and past a certain quarry he had lately begun to work. This had been suggested by a shrewd land-agent, and Deering was anxious to consult Glynn before he left Paris for his summer wanderings. The conversation which ensued was animated and interesting; but Glynn did not forget to look at his watch from time to time.
"I see I am keeping you," said Deering, observing his movement; "I shall not trespass any longer. I shall follow your advice, and see the heads of your firm as to funds on my way through London. How is our queer acquaintance Lambert and his incomparable daughter? I have found traces of a curious story connected with him, which if true——," as he spoke the door was burst open, and Lambert rushed in—Lambert in a state of intense agonized excitement. His eyes wild with angry terror, his face pallid through all the deep sunburn of its acquired tint, a slight froth at the corners of his mouth, his necktie disarranged, his hands gloveless; both Deering and Glynn started to their feet at this unexpected apparition.
"My child!" cried Lambert hoarsely, "where is my child? Deering, you limb of the devil! have you helped that scoundrel Vincent to take her away? For God's sake tell me! have mercy! I'll do anything! Glynn, you will help me? you are an honest, honorable man. She's gone, and I am going mad!"
"Gone!" cried his hearers together, "what do you mean?"