Lady Mary met them at the station. She kissed Isobel affectionately, and shook the General, who looked very aristocratic and dignified, warmly by the hand.
“How did you manage it, you darling?” whispered Isobel as they sat together in the car.
“Circumstances went in my favour; it is not quite entirely due to my own diplomacy,” answered Mary a little shyly. She knew that, in a way, she had struck a bargain with her aristocratic and obstinate old father, the chance of saving Guy against his indomitable pride.
And she knew also that Isobel’s faithful heart would be very wounded when she learned the fact of her sweetheart’s peril.
“You will know all about it after dinner to-night,” she added evasively. “You must rein in your impatience till then.”
Isobel smiled happily. The world was rose-coloured to-day. Was not the last obstacle to her happiness removed? Would not her beloved Guy marry her in the sight of the whole world? His world as well as her own?
Lord Saxham was awaiting them in the big hall, having now fully reconciled himself to the situation. He had many faults; he was choleric, obstinate, and a good deal of an opportunist. But whatever line of action he took, even if he somewhat stultified himself in the process, he always bore himself with a certain dignity.
His meeting with the Clandons was expressive of his methods. He held out his right hand cordially to the General. With his left he drew Isobel towards him, and printed a fatherly kiss upon her forehead.
“Welcome to Ticehurst, my dear child, which henceforth you must look upon as a second home. If Guy were here to-day our happiness would be complete.”
The warm-hearted Isobel was ready to burst into tears. The Earl was behaving like a gentleman; she forgave him his former obduracy. After all, was it not natural that he should wish Guy to marry a woman in his own world?