"So I thought," he replied, with a smile. "You see, darling, when we were first engaged my sister was dependent on me, and at that time Tristram earned very little. Virtually, I had to keep him and Betty. But all that will be changed now. We should have to be careful and live quietly for some years to come, but I am not afraid of the future. My work is increasing, as you know. I have had to take better chambers, and our last case was so successful that I am likely to have another good brief. Tell me the truth, my little Undine. Shall you be afraid to trust yourself to my keeping?"
Afraid! Need he have asked such a question? The dark eyes looked at him with reproachful sweetness.
"Do you think I should fear anything with you?" she answered. "But, Thorold, are you sure you really wish it?"
But Thorold's reply was so conclusive and satisfying that Waveney yielded.
Everard Ward had been reading his paper in old Ranelagh Gardens that afternoon. The pleasant May sunshine had warmed and cheered him, and he whistled like a boy as he let himself into the house with his latch-key.
But his cheerfulness soon vanished when he learned the purport of Thorold's visit. He was deceived, betrayed by the very man whom he declared would be a son-in-law after his own heart. He was to be robbed of his little girl.
What a fool he had been to trust the word of a lover! His knowledge of the world might have told him that they were all wolves in sheeps' clothing. Five years' engagement! This is what he had promised, the arch-traitor! and now he was coolly proposing that they should be married in August.
Everard nearly talked himself hoarse, in his effort to point out the extreme imprudence of the whole proceeding. In his opinion, he said, it was utterly rash, foolhardy, and a gross tempting of Providence. All his life he had been an example of the sad result of an impecunious marriage; his son had been indebted to charity for education, and his daughters had been without advantages. Everard waxed quite eloquent over his theme, but Thorold refused to be intimidated. He demolished all Everard's arguments with the ease and facility of a skilful lawyer; and Waveney was on his side. Everard had no chance; from the beginning they were both against him, and at last he had to throw down his arms. Even Althea took their part, and so did Mollie; but he yielded with a very bad grace, and though he tried to hide it from Waveney, he was sore at heart for many a day.
Waveney's feelings were very mixed: her sorrow at leaving her father somewhat damped her happiness; but Mollie comforted her.
"Of course it is hard for father," she said one day, when Waveney was lunching at Eaton Square. "He hates parting with his children. Don't you remember how low he was on my wedding day? But he soon cheered up. It will be all right, Wave, so don't worry. When you are once married he will make the best of it. Moritz says he must leave Cleveland Terrace and take a nice flat somewhere near you; and when Noel is at Oxford he can divide his time between us." And this view of the case was very consoling to Waveney.