There is no knowing how long Sir Gilbert Clare might have kept on expecting the arrival of his daughter-in-law had it not been for a visit which Mrs. Tew paid him in the course of the day following Luigi’s departure from the Chase.
Late in the afternoon of the previous day Mrs. Clare’s maid had arrived at Maylings in a cab, bringing with her a note from her mistress, in which the canon’s widow was informed that although the writer had returned from Italy it was not her present intention to again take up her abode in the house which Sir Gilbert Clare had so generously placed at her disposal. Would Mrs. Tew, therefore, be at the trouble to hand over to her maid whatever personal belongings she had left behind when she went abroad—a request with which that lady had at once complied. In answer to her questions the maid could tell her nothing, except that the fly in which she and her mistress were being conveyed from the railway station had been met and stopped by Mr. Lewis Clare; that Mrs. Clare had thereupon alighted and had accompanied him into the Crown and Cushion hotel (at a window of which she, Lucille, had caught a glimpse of Captain Verinder), and that she was still there, awaiting Lucille’s return from Maylings.
From all this it was clear to Sir Gilbert that he need no longer expect the coming of his daughter-in-law. She had been intercepted by Rispani and Verinder, had been told of what had come to light during her absence, and, like her nephew, had preferred an ignominious flight to facing the man she had so bitterly wronged. Evidently she had no plea to urge in extenuation of what she had done. There was nothing for it but to accept her guilt as proved, and to try to forget that any such person had ever intruded her presence upon him.
As we have seen, Lady Pell had long ago penetrated Everard Lisle’s love secret, and of late certain signs which, to any eyes less experienced than hers, would have passed unnoted, seemed to indicate that the time had come when he need no longer delay his confession, but might with some measure of confidence ask for that which she felt nearly sure would not be denied him. Many were the opportunities she contrived for throwing the young people together, but day after day went by and the all-important question still remained unasked. At length she began to lose patience with Lisle. “Who would have dreamt that so much timidity lay at the back of that confident bearing and resolute face? Oh, to be a man and afraid of a girl’s No! Your laggard courage evidently needs whipping up, my good sir, and mine shall be the hand to do it!”
On the Saturday she said to Sir Gilbert: “I have several times promised myself a visit to the ruins of Dunarvon Castle, but something has always intervened. Now, however, I will put it off no longer, or the last of the fine weather will be gone. You placed the wagonette at my disposal whenever I might choose to avail myself of it, so I shall take Miss Thursby and Mrs. Tew with me, and, as we can’t very well dispense with the services of a gentleman on such an occasion, I want you to spare me Mr. Lisle for the whole of Monday.”
“Certainly, Louisa. Utilise his services in whatever way may seem best to you.”
“I am quite aware that it is not a bit of use asking you to join our little party.”
“Not the slightest use, Louisa. As you are aware, I never go anywhere.”
“I can’t help saying, Gilbert, that it would be better for you in many ways if you did go somewhere. A man in your position, and with your duties, has no business to make a recluse of himself.”
“I don’t dispute your dictum, only, as it happens, we are not all made after the same pattern. Several years ago the world had become such a tiresome place to me that henceforward I determined to see as little of it as possible. It may have been a weak resolve to come to, but, such as it was, I have kept it, and I am afraid that now I am far too old to change.”