At Love's Cost - BestLightNovel.com
You’re reading novel At Love's Cost Part 55 online at BestLightNovel.com. Please use the follow button to get notification about the latest chapter next time when you visit BestLightNovel.com. Use F11 button to read novel in full-screen(PC only). Drop by anytime you want to read free – fast – latest novel. It’s great if you could leave a comment, share your opinion about the new chapters, new novel with others on the internet. We’ll do our best to bring you the finest, latest novel everyday. Enjoy
She laughed.
"In a little while! Sir Stephen wants a change; he is looking rather f.a.gged--"
"I'm not surprised!" said Stafford. "It seems to me that my father rests neither night nor day--"
"Ah, well, it will soon be over--perhaps before you expect," she said, smiling mysteriously. "Hus.h.!.+ Here he comes! You bad boy, you have spoilt my hair,"--she herself had disarranged it as she pressed against his breast. "I must run away and have it put straight."
Sir Stephen entered a moment after she had left the room. He looked f.a.gged to-night, as she had said; but his face lit up at sight of Stafford.
"Ah, my boy!" he exclaimed, holding Stafford's hand for a moment or two and scanning him with his usual expression of pride and affection. "We are going to have a big night: the greatest crush we have had. Didn't I hear Maude's voice?"
Stafford said that she had just gone out. Sir Stephen nodded musingly, and glanced at Stafford's grave face.
"I suppose the hurly-burly will be over presently," he said, "and we can go down to the country. Where would you like to go?"
Stafford shrugged his shoulders, and Sir Stephen eyed him rather sadly and anxiously. This indifference of Stafford's was quite a new thing.
"Don't mind? What do you say to Brae Wood, then?"
Stafford's face flushed.
"Not there--Wouldn't it be rather hot at Bryndermere, sir? Why not Scotland?"
Sir Stephen nodded.
"All right. Wherever you like, my boy. We've still got some years of the Glenfare place. We'll go there. And, Stafford--do you ever remember that I am getting old?"
Stafford laughed and looked at the handsome face affectionately and with the admiration and pride with which a son regards a good-looking father.
"Yes; I suppose you must be nearly thirty, sir!"
Sir Stephen laughed, not ill-pleased at the retort.
"Seriously, Staff, I'm older than you think, and--er--Ah, well, we're all mortal! Do you think you could oblige me in a little matter--"
He paused.
Stafford looked at him with a half smile.
"Sounds as if you wanted to borrow money, sir. Anything I can do--"
Sir Stephen laughed.
"No, I'm not in want of money: but I'm in want of a daughter-in-law, of grandchildren to sit upon my knee--" He laughed again, as if he were a little ashamed of the touch of sentiment. "Seriously, Staff, is there any reason for waiting? I know that the engagement is a short one; but, well why should you and Maude not be happy? I can make arrangements,"
he went on, eagerly. "There is Brae Wood. I'll make that over to you--"
Brae Wood again! Stafford's face grew set and impa.s.sive.
--"Or there is that place I bought in Warwicks.h.i.+re. But, there, perhaps you and Maude would like to find a place for yourselves. Very natural!
Well, there's no difficulty! Come, Staff! Why delay! 'Gather ye rose-buds while ye may,' you know! Why shouldn't the marriage take place directly the House rises and we leave London?"
Stafford turned away so that his father might not see the sudden pallor of his face.
"I'll--I'll speak to Maude, sir," he said, trying to make his tone cheerful, if not enthusiastic.
Sir Stephen laid his hand upon Stafford's broad shoulder.
"Thank you, my boy!" he said. "You are always good to me! Always! G.o.d bless you, Staff!"
His voice was husky, there was a moisture in his eyes which almost made Stafford's grow dim; then, with a swift return to his usual alert and sanguine manner, Sir Stephen withdrew his hands and swung round.
"I must be off: Maude likes me to be in the room when the people come: and, by George! Staff, I find myself doing what she likes all the time!"
His laugh rang out as he hurried with his brisk step from the room.
He was there at his post, when the guests began to arrive; and not far from him stood Maude in the splendour of her beauty; not tremulous now, as Howard had seen her, but statuesque and calm, and gracious with a stately graciousness which was well suited to the coronet which all knew would some day glitter on the bronze-gold hair.
Every now and then as the crowd increased her eyes would wander in search of Stafford, and she noticed that though he took his part, did his duty, the listless, half-wearied expression was still on his face, and a pang shot through her. Was it possible that he was still thinking of that girl at Bryndermere--She thrust the thought, the sickening dread, from her and forced the conventional smile to her face.
She danced the first dance with a popular duke who stood high in the government, and a word or two he let drop: "Sir Stephen: a man worthy of the highest honors," made her heart beat with antic.i.p.atory triumph.
The second waltz came, and--Ah, well, with Stafford's arm round her, with her head almost pillowed on his shoulder she was happy, and her fears, her vague doubts and presentiments fell from her.
"Ah, that was good," she said, with a sigh. "Do not forget--the eleventh, dearest! Take me to the prince--he is over there."
She dropped her curtsey to his royal highness, and Stafford left her with him. As he made his way to the end of the room he saw Griffenberg and several of the other financiers in a group, as usual; and they were talking with even more than their ordinary enthusiasm and secretiveness. Griffenberg caught his arm as he was pa.s.sing.
"Heard the news, Mr. Orme?" he asked.
"No; what is it?" said Stafford.
Griffenberg smiled, but rather gravely.
"They say that the peerage will be announced to-night."
Stafford nodded. And Griffenberg after a stare at Stafford's impa.s.sive face which evinced no flush of exultation, glanced at the others curiously, seemed about to add something, then checked himself and turned away, and as Stafford went on, said in a low voice to Wirsch:
"Do you think he has heard? Looked rather glum, didn't he?"
The baron shrugged his shoulders.
"Don't know. He's a shtrange sheentleman. He keeps himself to himself doesh Mishter Shtafford."
Stafford went on, and at one of the anterooms came upon Mr. Falconer.
He was standing looking on at the dancing with a grim countenance, and seemed lost in thought; so much so that he was almost guilty of a start when Stafford spoke to him.
"Yes! Great crowd. Just come in? Father all right?"