He remained silent, and a great fear clutched at her heart.
“John,” she whispered faintly.
With a cry of passion he took her in his arms and crushed her to him.
“Mildred.”
And her lips sought his, for the first kiss of acknowledged love.
CHAPTER XXV
The Earl of Lynton was not in the best of tempers as he entered the boat train at Dover, on his way to London. An attaché to the British embassy in Paris, he had received peremptory instructions by cable from Sir Keith Hamilton, the secretary of state for foreign affairs, to proceed to London and report himself at the foreign office, immediately upon his arrival.
It was natural that he should be curious as to the reason why his presence should be so urgently required. Had it been a couple of years ago he would have imagined that his many creditors had been making themselves objectionable to the authorities, but his sister Mildred’s marriage to John Gaunt had, once for all, removed that sort of worry from his life.
The Earl was a very ordinary sort of man of average intelligence, but with a keen capacity for the enjoyment of life. To do him justice he had been reluctant that his sister should marry Gaunt, and, in spite of the great pecuniary advantages attached to the match, he had not said a word to influence her decision.
Almost immediately after the marriage, he had received his appointment to Paris, and since then had paid very few visits to England. Neither Lady Mildred nor himself were good correspondents, but he had gathered the impression that she was quite content with her lot.