"I was; and I saw Miss Mynors."
Gerald felt the blood rush to his head. "For the first time?"
Gaunt again assented mutely. He was filled with exultation. Unhappy and uncertain as he was, insecure as he knew his tenure of his prize, at least she was his at present, at least he might claim this one triumph.
"Fell in love at first sight, and no wonder!" cried Ferris, with enthusiasm. "Isn't he the luckiest chap on earth? I really don't think I have ever seen anybody quite as lovely as Mrs. Gaunt."
"You are right—that is the almost universal opinion. I congratulate Mr. Gaunt," said Gerald, rallying his composure.
How all the crises of our lives come upon us unaware! How little had he guessed, that day in the Gallery, that, although he had a good chance then, it was his last! His father, in persuading him to flee temptation, had urged the probability of a future recurrence of opportunity. "She won't run away," he had said. And behold! even as he spoke, the chain of gold was being forged to bind captive the innocent girl.
Gaunt was speaking to Joey. "Great as is Virginia's beauty," Gerald heard him say, "it is the least part of her charm. It is her character which is so fine, so exceptional. She is pure gold throughout."
Young Rosenberg looked at him with a lingering gaze of hatred. Had he known in what a crucible the gold of Virginia's nature had been and was still being proved, the hate would have intensified perhaps to the point of sending his fingers to the husband's throat. This man had apparently been certain, where he was doubtful. Was Virginia as fair within as without? Could she have wholly escaped the taint of her mother's ignoble nature? His father had thought not. In his indecision he had let slip the treasure which another man had promptly gathered. As they walked slowly towards the house, his mind was filled with the two ideas—first, that all was over, so far as he was concerned, and, also, that in the course of the next few hours he might possibly see her whose dove's eyes had haunted him ever since that fatal day in the valley of decision—the day when he had decided upon retreat.
Then he began by degrees to grasp what the others were speaking of. He learned that the sudden and dangerous illness of Pansy had called Virginia to London, and that Gaunt had allowed her to go without him. Also he learned that she had suffered with a bad knee, and that her husband was anxious lest she should now be doing too much. He listened as in a dream, his mind slowly assimilating all these rapid happenings; and by degrees he realised that, if she were in London without Gaunt, he could easily see her, if he could ascertain her address.
The conversation soon turned to the projected lead-mine, in which Mr. Rosenberg senior had been asked by a friend in the financial world to take a director's place. The party were to meet Mr. Rosenberg's own expert, and Ferris's, at Branterdale cavern that afternoon. Joey was coming too.