“Mr Stratford?” cried Lady Haigh, with a start. “Are you quite certain?”
“I had no idea of anything of the kind until she turned on me and asked why I had let him go to the Palace to save her, and said she would never speak to me again if anything happened to him. I couldn’t mistake that, could I?” he asked, with a dreary smile. “It was all clear to me at once, and I can’t tell you what an arrant and unmitigated and contemptible brute I felt for having let him go. I’m sure I should never have had the face to go near her again if he had got killed.”
“Well, but wasn’t it all right when he came back?”
“No, indeed; it is all wrong. He doesn’t care for her; he told me so himself before he went. Now, you know, no one can be astonished at her caring for him, he is such an out-and-out good fellow; but if he doesn’t care for her, what is to be done? That is what I am addling my brains over, and if you can suggest anything, Lady Haigh, I shall bless you for ever.”
“What was your own idea as to what ought to be done?”
“Well, it’s pretty clear to me that if Miss Keeling had a father or a brother out here, it would be his business to take the matter in hand, and bring Stratford to book—ask him his intentions, and that sort of thing. I don’t want to say anything against him, but it’s quite plain that he isn’t doing the proper thing; and if he has made her care for him with those high and mighty A.D.C. airs of his”—Dick spoke with the lively bitterness of a man who has known and suffered far from gladly the wiseacres of a viceregal entourage—“he ought not to be allowed to cry off like this without even asking her to marry him.”
“Then the propriety of your assuming the rôle of Miss Keeling’s brother, and representing the matter to him yourself, has not suggested itself to you?” Lady Haigh waited with keen anxiety for the answer, which came with a groan.
“Hasn’t it indeed? But how is a man to do such a thing without giving the girl away? Don’t tell me you think I ought to do it, Lady Haigh! I’ll do it if you say I must; but really, you know, I am absolutely the worst fellow that ever was born for a delicate job of that kind. Stratford told me himself on that very day that tact was not my strong point, which is putting it mildly, and this sort of thing simply cries aloud for tact.”
“You are quite right, it does, and I am truly thankful that you have not felt called upon to attempt it.” Dick heaved a sigh of relief. “But do tell me, Major North, why you are willing to put aside your own hopes in this way, and bring Mr Stratford to book?”
“Because I want to see her happy,” growled Dick.