When he learned in a hurried line that Bethune had reappeared on the scene with his motor, taking the girl for a drive, it scattered his last remaining scruple. He left for London one bright day in late September, resolute to put an end to his "probation," seek out Jill and learn his fate.
On his way from St. Pancras he called at the Club on the chance of a letter, and a sudden memory assailed him of that other message found there, summoning him to Italy. It had changed the whole course of his life.
He recalled to mind his arrival at Siena; his interview with his new Aunt and his first faint doubts regarding a marriage with Cydonia.
Once more, in imagination, he stood in the long gallery lined with pictures—those faces of his ancestors which seemed to frown at the thought of Cadell!
A sudden wave of exultation went to his heart as he thought of Jill taking her place in that noble throng. Surely they would welcome her? Jill, with her frank simplicity—that truest mark of good descent—with her clean-cut, proud young face, her clever brain and fine courage.
As he turned over the pile of letters handed him by the Club porter, his thoughts were anxious. Yes—here it was! Bless the child! He hastened back to his waiting taxi with a feeling that no profane eyes must watch his face as he read her letter.
But at the first opening lines he frowned with an exclamation of disgust, aware that here was grave trouble, that the girl he loved faced despair.
"Damn the chap!"
He could hardly believe the astounding news. He bit his lip. Mrs. Uniacke had married Stephen! Why—it was incredible!
Secretly—at a Registry—in Brighton—the day before. No wonder Jill had always held such deep distrust of the "parasite!"