Adrien Leroy - Page 65/550

His voice grew more grave, indeed almost solemn.

"Adrien, I am an old man, nearing the grave, and, as is only natural, my

thoughts turn to the future of our race. You are the last of our line,

it is to you I look to carry it on. You are no longer a boy, with a

youth's follies and tastes; it is time you took up your

responsibilities."

Adrien made as if to speak; but his father checked him, with a gesture

of his hand.

"Stay, hear me out," he said. "When I was your age, your mother was at

my side, I had given the House of Leroy its son and heir. I was married,

and had left the lighter loves of the world for a more lasting and

responsible one. You know I have never interfered much with your life;

but though I am no longer of the gay world, I yet hear something of its

doings. You 'live the pace,' they tell me, and are the idol of the smart

set. Barminster Castle, Adrien, looks for something higher than that in

its lord and master. I repeat, sir, at your age I was married."

"And loved," said Adrien softly.

"Yes, indeed," exclaimed Lord Barminster, his face lighting up at the

thought of the woman whom he had lost, and mourned so long. "Your mother

was that which ranks above rubies, a good and virtuous woman, worthy of

any man's love."

Adrien turned his pale face away, as if to avoid scrutiny, then he said

gently: "I admit your right to speak like this, sir, and if it rested with me I

would obey you at once."

"It does rest with you, Adrien," returned his father quickly. "Surely

you are blind, not to see that Constance Tremaine loves you with her

whole heart."

Adrien started up, his face alight and quivering with excitement.

"Impossible, sir!" he exclaimed. "Would to heaven it were true; for I

know no other woman to whom I would so gladly devote my life."

The grim old face softened and relaxed. He had not expected such an

overwhelming victory.

"Why do you say it is impossible?" he asked.

Adrien did not answer for a moment, then he slip hoarsely: "She is already engaged to Lord Standon."

An exclamation of astonishment burst from the old man's lips. He put out

his hand in involuntary sympathy, and the two so strangely alike, yet so

wide apart in years, clasped hands. Then, as if ashamed of the momentary

emotion, the old man turned away, saying quietly: "This is, of course, a surprise to me. Its truth yet remains to be

proved, but I should feel inclined to doubt it myself." With which he

went back to his own apartments.