In fact, Senator Garston’s handlings of Western and Southern roads, far-away mines, added to the immense business of his bold strokes in the leading securities.
“There is no good excuse for Alynton, Wyman nor Mrs. Willoughby pushing you out of the firm as long as you really handle my business,” said the acute Garston. “They would have no sufficient business warrant in so doing, for naturally Alynton and myself are bound by both party and personal ties, which must rise above any petty quarrel. I can easily handle Alynton. He is, of course, the secret business counselor of Mrs. Willoughby, and as she fears me, and with reason, she will never strike at you, as long as our pact holds.
“And then, moreover, your marriage with Katharine Norreys removes every possible social objection to continuing your supposed confidential relations with the Queen of the Street. Any kind of a wife brings you within the ‘safety line.’ Moreover, Mrs. Willoughby is really fond of Katharine, and those blue eyes of the young lady’s are as keen as a diamond’s flashes.”
“Will Alynton finally marry this strange woman?” was Vreeland’s searching query.
The stony-faced Senator-elect sprang to his feet, livid with rage. And Vreeland marveled as the angered man harshly cried:
“Never, by God! Impossible! How could he? There’s that girl—the one whom I’ve sworn to take away from her. The mother can not explain the presence of the child to her admirer.
“She dare not! For the Alyntons are all as proud as Spanish hidalgos, and young Alynton is no fool. He would have to find out that she had lied to him—that her whole past life has been a sham—and no man or woman can ever deceive David Alynton twice. He is merciless. I’ve been a fellow-director with him for years, and I know him. I hold them both in the hollow of my hand.”
The Senator quickly saw that his rage had led him on too far, for the young man’s eyes were open in amazement at the passionate outburst.
“There are these property interests,” he grumbled, “and I suppose she has hoodwinked the girl as to her rights. It’s the old game. I am the only living man who can set it straight, and I will do so, in my own way. I have sworn to do it for my own reasons, and to even up with My Lady.”
When James Garston went away to direct his secret agents, now watching Lucerne by its dreaming lake, and following the steamer “Empress of India,” nearing Hong Kong, Vreeland tried to pierce the mystery of Romaine Garland’s nurture.