Mr. Vimpany did want the money--always wanted the money; his gratitude
burst out for the third time: "God bless you!"
The object of that highly original form of benediction pointed through
the window in the direction of the railway station. Mr. Vimpany
struggled no longer to express his feelings--he had made his last
sacrifice to appearances--he caught the train.
The door of the room had been left open. A voice outside said: "Has he
gone?"
"Come in, Fanny," said Mountjoy. "He will return to London either
to-night or to-morrow morning."
The strange maid put her head in at the door. "I'll be at the
terminus," she said, "and make sure of him."
Her head suddenly disappeared, before it was possible to speak to her
again. "Was there some other person outside? The other person entered
the room; it was Lord Harry. He spoke without his customary smile.
"I want a word with you, Mr. Mountjoy."
"About what, my lord?"
That direct question seemed to confuse the Irishman. He hesitated.
"About you," he said, and stopped to consider. "And another person," he
added mysteriously.
Hugh was constitutionally a hater of mysteries. He felt the need of a
more definite reply, and asked for it plainly: "Does your lordship associate that other person with me?"
"Yes, I do."
"Who is the person?"
"My wife."