Affairs of State Part 30

"Read it!" he commanded, in a hoa.r.s.e voice. "Read it, then!"

"'Lord Vernon will be deeply grateful,'" she read, "'if he is not mentioned in connection with to-day's adventure.' To-day's adventure--when he kicked Jax away from her. Can you doubt? Can you be so stupid as to doubt? These Americans--they have no sense of honour!"

He turned to the window without answering, but his face was drawn and white.

CHAPTER XVIII

Man's perfidy

To Archibald Rushford, sitting ruminant in his room, staring absently out at the dunes and the sea, his paper forgotten, there entered presently Susie--a rather subdued Susie, as he noted from the corner of his eye--who drew up a chair very close to his and sat down and propped her chin in her hands and looked up at him.

It came to him in a flash of revelation that, did she have a mother, it was to her she would have gone at this moment, and not to him, and his eyes were a little misty as he looked down at her. That she and her sister should have grown, motherless, to such sweet, triumphant womanhood struck him in this instant as a kind of miracle--he had never thought of it before. He had taken their beauty, their wit, their sanity, as matters of course; he had never looked at them, clearly, from the outside; he had never quite thoroughly appreciated them. They had come this far, guideless, in the journey of life, and had done well and bravely; but now Susie, at least, had reached a point in the path where she needed help and counsel. She had come to him for it and he must give her the best he had.

"Dad," she began, a little tremulously, "would you mind so _very_ much if I should m-marry and live in Europe? Of course," she added, hastily, to break the force of the blow, "you would come over very often and stay with us, and we would go over very often to see you."

"So he _has_ spoken to you, has he?" laughed her father. "He told me he hadn't."

"Spoken! You know about it? Oh, dad, what do you mean?"

"I mean that a certain William Frederick Albert, of Markeld--I believe that's his name--or most of it--was in here a while ago and had the impudence to ask me to give you to him."

"Oh!" gasped Susie, with flaming cheeks, and sank back in her chair and I dare say cried a little; but her father didn't see her, for his own eyes were full of tears. The moment pa.s.sed, the tears were wiped away--"Tell me about it, dad," she said.

"Tell you about it? I have told you!"

"About what he said. How did he look?"

"I dare say he looked about as he always does--a little pale around the gills, perhaps, as one usually does when one's performing an unpleasant duty!"

"Dad!"

"You don't mean to say you think he enjoyed it?"

"They--they always have to do it in Europe," faltered Sue.

"So I understand. But he said he hadn't told you."

"He hasn't--he hasn't said a word."

"Oh--_you_ just sort of scented it in the air, I suppose--sort of saw it coming."

"Every woman can tell when a man is in l-love with her," explained Susie, with dignity, but boggling a little at the crucial word. "What did you tell him, dad?"

"I told him to take you and welcome."

"Now, dad, you mustn't tease!"

"Well, then, I told him he'd better see you first, since you're the party princ.i.p.ally concerned."

"But you like him?"

"Immensely!"

Susie's arms were about his neck, and her cheek was against his cheek, and a pearly tear plashed down upon his s.h.i.+rt-front.

"Oh, you dear dad!" she cried. "I knew you'd like him!"

"He seems a pretty straight sort of fellow," observed her father, "he looks clean, and he talks like a man."

"And you won't mind so very much?"

"Not if it makes you happy, my dear. All girls have to marry sometime, I suppose. You'll be rather farther away from me than I could wish, but I dare say the Prince will let me come over and stay in his castle occasionally, and eat at the second table--"

"_Let_ you! Why, he'll _beg_ you to. Why couldn't you come over and live with us, dad?"

"And die of ennui in a year? Not much. I'll go home and make some more money for you--you see, I'd never figured on having to finance a Princess!"

"Dad," very softly.

"Well, what?"

"Do you know, I don't believe he suspects I'm to have any money."

"Neither do I. That's one thing I like about him."

"But you really might come and live with us, dad."

"Oh, no, I mightn't. Besides, there's Nell--What!" he cried, interpreting the sudden pressure of her arms, "you don't mean that she's gone and done it, too!"

"I don't know, dad, but Lord Vernon has been very attentive to her. She hasn't told me anything; I'm only guessing."

Her father gave a long, low whistle.

"Well!" he said. "You've been hustling things up with a vengeance, I must say! There must be something in the atmosphere. It'll be a little lonely in that big New York house without you, Susie."

"I know it will, dear dad. And if you say the word, I won't leave you--not for a long, long time. It will be a long time anyway, you know--a year, at least--there will be so much to do."

"And a year is quite long enough to keep two lovers apart. Youth goes faster than you think, my dear. No, no; it'll be all right, Susie. You don't suppose I'm as selfish as all that!"

"No, dad; that's just what I'm afraid of; you're not selfish enough.

It's I who am selfish."

"Nonsense! Everybody in this world has a right to happiness, Susie; why, that's one of the foundation-stones of the Declaration of Independence.

And, I take it, a woman's great chance of happiness is in marrying the man she loves. That's what every woman has a right to do, and n.o.body has the right to raise a finger to prevent her. I'll give you to Markeld with a clear conscience, my dear, when the time comes, and bless you both. That is, if you really love him."