"Yes," she replied, blushing again. Then, as he was silent for some
minutes, she said almost timidly: "You do not mind, uncle, do you?"
He started. "Mind! Good Heavens, child, why should I? You know the wish
of my heart only too well. What better favour could he wear than yours?
As far as I am concerned, you were plighted in your cradles. Leroy and
Tremaine are no unequal match. No--no--my dear, make his jacket, and win
his heart--if you can!"
Some few hours later, panting and throbbing, the Daimler motor drew up
in the Castle courtyard--Adrien and his friends had arrived for the
great steeplechase.
Attracted by the sound of the barking dogs, who apparently disliked the
unaccustomed monster--Lord Barminster himself invariably using
horses--Lady Constance stepped from her room on to the balcony which
looked down upon the courtyard beneath. The gentlemen's hats flew off in
greeting, and, as Adrien looked up, an unusual thrill ran through him as
he noted the simple beauty of the girl above him.
"We thought we'd left the sun behind us, Constance, but evidently 'she'
is still overhead," he said, smiling.
She looked down with mock reproof, playfully shaking at him a flower
which she held in her hand.
"I thought compliments were out of date, Adrien. Have you enjoyed your
drive?"
"Not half so much as the welcome," was the courteous reply, as he caught
the rose which she had let fall.
She laughed, and blushed a little, then turned to the other members of
the party, who had now alighted from the car.
"Ah, Lord Standon, I did not know you were coming." Then, as that young
man's face lengthened, she added quickly: "Unexpected pleasures are
always welcome. I am glad to see you, Mr. Paxhorn."
After a word of greeting to Mortimer Shelton, she drew back into her
room; while the men, laughing and chatting, passed into the great hall,
where they found Lord Barminster awaiting them. His stern face softened
into a welcome, as, with outstretched hand, he came forward to greet his
guests.
"Ah, Shelton!" he said, "so you keep my boy company, and you, Paxhorn
and Standon. Gentlemen, you are welcome--though there's no need to
remind you of that, I know. Adrien," turning to his son, "you have a
fine day, did you drive or ride?"
"We motored down, sir," answered the young man, in his soft, melodious
voice.
His father frowned slightly. He heartily detested all modern
innovations, and would never hold that motors--or, indeed, any increased
facilities for travelling--were improvements. "They breed discontent,
sir," he would declaim vigorously. "In my young days people were content
to stay in the place in which they had been born, and do their duty.
Now, forsooth, they must see this country and that, and visit a dozen
places in the year, where their grandparents visited one. Anything for
an excuse to fritter away their hard-earned savings!"