“Your affectionate cousin,
“LOUISA PELL.”
Between Sir Gilbert and Lady Pell, when they were young people, there had been a something which, if it could not in strictness be termed a romantic episode, yet had in it the possibilities of one, and, had the fates proved propitious, would probably have eventuated in a way which would have changed the current of both their lives.
It was during the lifetime of Sir Gilbert’s father and mother that Louisa Grayson, a tall, dashing, somewhat hoydenish girl of eighteen, was invited on a long visit to Withington Chase. Mr. Gilbert Clare, as he was then, who had just returned from a journey in Central America, had felt himself drawn towards his high-spirited, bright-eyed cousin, who, although few people would have called her handsome, was possessed of some singularly attractive qualities; while she, on her side, fell frankly in love with him. But it was not to be. Miss Grayson was summoned home by the dangerous illness of a relative, and her cousin let her go without putting to her the one definite question which her heart was hungering to be asked; after which quite a number of years passed before they met again. On his part, at least, it could have been nothing more than a passing fancy, seeing that within a twelvemonth of their parting, Sir Gilbert had seen, fallen in love with, and married his first wife. Whether in Lady Pell’s case it had proved to be more than a passing fancy was a question which she alone could have answered.
“I shall be very glad to see Louisa, very glad indeed,” murmured Sir Gilbert under his breath when he had read her letter for the second time, “and I take it as a favour on her part that she has offered to come to the Chase. Of course at our time of life—although I don’t forget that she is a number of years younger than I—she cannot be so foolish as to imagine—— No, no; I will give her credit for more sense than that. She is no longer a flighty romantic schoolgirl; indeed, I remember that when I saw her last, she impressed me as having developed into quite a woman of the world. Still, a widow—— Um—um.”
With that, as already related, he lapsed into one of his musing fits, which lasted till the entrance of Trant, who coughed and gazed reproachfully at his master on finding that he had not yet poured out his first cup of tea.
The first thing the Baronet did on retiring to his study after breakfast was to reply to Lady Pell’s letter.
“MY DEAR LOUISA,” he wrote,—“Come to the Chase by all means—you ought to have come years ago—and stay as long as it suits you—the longer the better. You may rely upon receiving the heartiest of welcomes from
“Your affectionate cousin,
“GILBERT CLARE.”
This missive he at once despatched by a mounted groom to the Shrublands.
Now, in the course of the forenoon of the day preceding the arrival of Lady Pell’s note, Giovanna had driven over from Maylings and had asked to see Sir Gilbert. The proceeding was such an unusual one on her part that it was not without a spice of anxiety that he joined her in the morning-room. But she at once reassured him that, as far as he was concerned, nothing serious was the matter.