Raie was not in the room when the consultation took place, but waited on tenter-hooks in the roof-garden above. Occasionally sentences in her mother’s high-pitched voice reached her through the open window, but she riveted her attention on the book she was supposed to be reading, and resolutely determined not to hear. After what seemed an unconscionable time, she was sent for to express her views. Lady Montella was, as usual, calm and placid; Mrs. Emanuel beamed with delight.
“We have come to the conclusion that if Sir Ferdinand is able to establish his innocence in England, your engagement will receive our consent,” her foster-aunt said, in answer to her glance of interrogation; “but are you sure you love him well enough to marry him, dear? Remember the difference in your ages. He is nearly eleven years older than yourself.”
“Oh, that’s nothing,” put in Mrs. Emanuel quickly, before her daughter had time to reply. “It’s much better than if it were the other way about. Besides, I should not care for Raie to marry a much younger man; and if she loves him—”
“I do love him,” said the girl, with fervour. “I should love him if he were a hundred. If I can’t marry him, mamma, I shall be an old maid.”
“God forbid!” ejaculated Mrs. Emanuel piously, under her breath. “Not if I know it.” She had not yet recovered from the rupture of Harriet’s betrothal.
“I should advise you not to place too much confidence in Ferdinand’s success, dear,” advised Lady Montella thoughtfully. “It is always difficult to reopen an old case, and two of the witnesses in connection with it are dead. And you see if he fails to prove his innocence, the slur on his name remains.”
“Oh, but he will succeed, Aunt Inez—he must!” rejoined Raie, with youthful optimism. She did not add that she meant to be true to him under any circumstances, nevertheless such was the case. As long as she was morally convinced of his innocence, the opinion of the world mattered little. She knew, however, that she could not marry him for some time to come unless the proof were found.
So the matter was settled, pending the decision of the judicial court; and Ferdinand was tacitly acknowledged as Raie’s fiancé. There was now no need for any clandestine trysts, but they still met constantly in the grounds of the empty house. Zillah often passed their arbour in her daily walk, and observing that they seemed absorbed in mutual admiration, experienced a pang of envy at her jealous heart. She had scarcely spoken to Raie since the recognition of her lover, but she always seemed to have a good deal to say to Sir Ferdinand whenever she came across him. Secretly she longed to display her superior charms; to fascinate him by the power of her voice and smile. Realising that Lionel was for ever beyond her reach, she desired to transfer her attention to his step-brother. That he was already engaged seemed to trouble her not at all; for until he were actually married she considered him free.
But as the day of his departure approached, and she had made no progress, she grew desperate; and on the last evening a crisis came. Raie, as it happened, was confined to her bed with a cold, and her lover was obliged to say his farewell by proxy. Lady Montella conveyed all the tender messages, after which she drove off to a reception with her son. Zillah, therefore, was left to entertain Sir Ferdinand for an hour alone, an opportunity of which she was determined to make the most.
As usual, she tried the effect of music first, and sang her sweetest songs. She knew, of course, that he was watching her through a thin haze of smoke; and felt almost magnetically the power of his eyes on her face. Then, rising suddenly, she suggested an adjournment to the roof. She felt, somehow, that they would both feel less restraint in the open air and under the light of the moon.