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"Quite right! Quite right!" he said, nodding his head. "Guy, my boy, you shall come and see us. No. 29, Bloomsbury Street--poor rooms, but our remittances have gone astray, and I have been ill. To-morrow, eh?
or the next day? We shall expect you, Guy. We do not go out except in the evenings. You will not fail, Guy?"
I looked down into his flushed face. His lips were shaking, and his eyes were fixed anxiously upon mine. I was miserably ashamed and unhappy.
"I do not think that I shall care to hear what you have to say," I answered. "But I will come to see you."
I left them there. As I went out she was gently countermanding his order for more brandy.
CHAPTER x.x.xIII
THE DUKE'S MESSAGE
It was late, but I felt that I must see Ray. I went to his house, little expecting to find him there. I was shown, however, into the study, where he was hard at work with a pile of correspondence. He wore an ancient shooting jacket, and his feet were encased in slippers. As usual, his pipe was between his teeth, and the tobacco smoke hung about him in little clouds.
"Well," he said gruffly. "What do you want of me? I am busy. Speak to the point."
"I have come to ask your advice," I said. "I am afraid that I must resign my post."
"Why?"
"My father is in London. I have seen and spoken with him."
"With that woman?"
"Yes."
"And you have spoken to him in a public place, perhaps?"
Ray was silent for a moment. Then he looked at me keenly.
"Do you want to give it up?" he asked.
"No," I answered. "But do you suppose Lord Chelsford and the others would be willing for me to continue--under the circ.u.mstances?"
"Probably not," he admitted. "The Duke would not, at any rate."
"Then what am I to do?" I asked.
"I don't know!" he answered shortly. "It requires consideration. I will see Lord Chelsford. You shall hear from me in the morning."
That was all the consolation I had from Colonel Mostyn Ray.
At ten o'clock the next morning the Duke came to me in the study, where I was already at work. He was looking, even for him, particularly trim and smart, and he wore a carefully-selected pink rosebud in his b.u.t.tonhole. His greeting was almost cordial. He gave me a few instructions, and then lit a cigarette.
"What is this about your resignation, Ducaine?" he asked.
"I do not wish to resign, sir," I answered. "I have explained certain circ.u.mstances to Colonel Ray, which it seemed to me might make my resignation necessary. He promised to confer with Lord Chelsford, and let me know the result."
The urbanity slowly faded from the Duke's face.
"I am your employer," he said coldly. "I do not understand why you thought it necessary to go to Colonel Ray."
"It was entirely owing to Colonel Ray, sir," I answered, "that I received the appointment, and he has practically made himself responsible for me."
"You are mistaken," the Duke answered. "The responsibility is shared by all of us. Your unfortunate family history was known to the whole Board."
"Then I am less indebted to Colonel Ray, sir, than I imagined," I answered. "I am very glad, however, that it is known. Perhaps Lord Chelsford may not consider my resignation necessary?"
"The circ.u.mstances being--?"
"I have seen and spoken with my father in London," I answered.
The Duke was silent.
"I presume," he said, after a short pause, "that you must yourself realize the indiscretion of this."
"I went at once to Colonel Ray and offered my resignation," I answered.
The Duke nodded.
"Your father," he said slowly, "is in London?" "Yes, sir."
"Alone?"
I hesitated. Yet perhaps the Duke had a right to know the truth.
"He is with the lady who occupied Braster Grange, sir, until last week,"
I answered. "She pa.s.sed under the name of Mrs. Smith-Lessing, but I believe that she is in reality my stepmother."
The Duke stood a few paces from me, looking out of the window. He held his cigarette between his fingers, and he stood sideways to me. Nothing about his att.i.tude or face was unusual. Yet I felt myself watching him curiously. There was something about his manner which seemed to me to suggest some powerful emotion only kept in check by the exercise of a strong will.
"This is the person, I believe," he said in a slow measured tone, "with whom my son, Lord Blenavon, was said to have been intimate?"
"Lord Blenavon was certainly a constant visitor at Braster Grange," I answered.
"You know her address in London?" the Duke asked.
"Yes."
He turned and faced me. He was certainly paler than he had been a few minutes ago.
"I should be glad," he said, "if you would arrange for me to have an interview with her."
"An interview with Mrs. Smith-Lessing!" I repeated incredulously.
The Duke inclined his head.