"It may be. I am so much older than you that I am less optimistic. But you did not grasp the significance of my words. I said I was to be married in Paris."
"Yes," said Constance, still at a loss to catch the drift of an announcement which Mrs. Vansittart seemed so anxious to thrust upon her.
"Well, the _Chinook_ was wrecked last night, or rather, early this morning. The name of the ship was not made known throughout the world until long after daybreak. It is quite impossible that Mr. Traill should have reached this remote corner of England from Paris in the interval."
For one moment the girl was puzzled. Then a ready solution occurred to her.
"Oh, of course, that is very simple. Mr. Traill was awaiting your arrival in Southampton, thinking to take you by surprise no doubt. That is sure to be the explanation. What a shock the first telegram must have given him!"
"How did he ascertain that his nephew and I were alive?"
"The very first thing father did was to telegraph the names of all the survivors. I know that is so because I saw the message."
"Ah. He is a man of method, I suppose. You are proud of him, I heard you say."
"I think there is no one like him in all the world. We are so happy at home that sometimes I fear it cannot last. Yet, thank G.o.d, there is no excuse for such night-mare terrors."
Mrs. Vansittart cooed in her gentle way.
"Indeed, you have my earnest good wishes in that respect," she said. "Do we not owe our lives to you? That is an excellent reason for grat.i.tude, if a selfish one. But, some day soon, you will be getting married and leaving the parental roof."
"I do not wish to die an old maid," laughed Constance, "yet I have not discovered a better name than my own up to the present."
She fancied that Mrs. Vansittart winced a little at this remark. Deeming her visitor to be a bundle of nerves, she jumped to the conclusion that the other woman read into the words some far-fetched disparagement of her own approaching marriage.
"Of course," she continued, affably tactful, "I will hold another view when the right man asks me."
"Were you in my place," murmured her visitor, apparently thinking aloud rather than addressing Constance, "you would not be fearful of misfortune? You would not read an omen of ill luck into this dramatic interruption of all your plans? After many years of widowhood I am about to be married again to a man who is admirable in every way. He is rich, distinguished in manner and appearance, a person of note not only in the States but on the Continent. No woman of my years might desire a better match. Why could not the way be made smooth for me? Why should the poor _Chinook_, out of the hundreds of mail-steamers which cross the Atlantic yearly, be picked out for utter disaster? It is a warning--a threat from the G.o.ds!"
The unconscious bitterness of her tone moved the girl to find words of consolation.
"I would not question the ways of Providence in the least," she said.
"Surely you have far more reason for thankfulness than for regret."
"Regret! I am not regretting. But I have gone through such trials that I am unnerved. There, child! Forgive me for troubling you. And--and--kiss me, will you, and say you wish me well!"
She moved nearer, as if driven by uncontrollable impulse. Constance, not prepared for such an outburst, was nevertheless deeply touched by this appeal for sympathy.
"I wish you all the joy and happiness which I am sure you deserve," she said, stooping to kiss the wan, shrinking face held up to her.
Mrs. Vansittart burst into a paroxysm of tears and tottered towards the door.
"No, no," she gasped, as Constance caught her by the arm. "Do not come with me. I am--shaken. It will pa.s.s. For G.o.d"s sake, let me go alone!"
CHAPTER XII
PREPARATIONS
Pyne found Enid rosy-red and inclined to be tearful. The dying light of day was still strong enough in the service-room to permit these things to be seen.
"No bad news, I hope?" he inquired, though the sight of Stephen Brand, seated at his desk and placidly writing, was rea.s.suring.
The question steadied her to an extent.
"It is nothing of any consequence," she said and darted past him.
Brand looked up from his journal. He smiled, though the American thought there was a hint of pain in his eyes.
"I am going to lose one of my girls," he said. "Oh, no, this is not a loss by death but by marriage. If I were a Frenchman, I would describe it as gaining a son. Enid has just received what is tantamount to a proposal."
"By flag-wagging?" Pyne was naturally astounded.
"Yes. You would not expect one of the people from the _Chinook_ to be so enterprising."
"I--don"t--know," said Pyne, punctuating each word with a deliberate nod.
"Well, in any case, I would not have forwarded the application after an acquaintance of eighteen hours," observed Brand with equal deliberation.
"They"re two powerful fine girls," said Pyne, steering clear of the point. "They have just been telling me how Miss Enid happened along. It reads like a fairy tale."
"She was given to me by the winds and waves, yet she is dear to me as my own child. I shall miss her greatly--if all goes well here."
"I"ve cottoned on to both of them something wonderful. But, if I am not intruding into private affairs, how comes it that Miss Enid is being telegraphed for? Of course I can understand the gentleman being in a hurry. I would feel that way myself if the conditions were favorable."
Pyne could be as stolid as a red Indian when the occasion demanded it.
Brand found no hint in his face of the hidden thought in his words.
"Have they said anything to you of a man named Stanhope?" inquired the lighthouse-keeper, resuming the entry in his diary after a sharp glance upwards.
"Y-yes. They pointed him out to me this morning. In the navy, I think.
Fellow with a t.i.tle, and that sort of thing."
"No. His mother is Lady Margaret Stanhope, being an earl"s daughter, but his father was a knight. He has been paying attentions to Enid for a year and more, to my knowledge and to his mother"s exceeding indignation, I fancy."
"That is where we on the other side have the pull of you."
"Have you? I wonder. However, Lady Margaret"s views have not troubled me. I will deal with her when the time comes. At present it looks fairly certain that Master Jack has settled matters on his own account. I may be mistaken, of course. How do you interpret this?"
He closed the journal and handed to Pyne a memorandum taken down letter by letter by a sailor as Brand read the signal:
"Mother sends her love to Enid."
"Did mother ever convey her love to Enid before?" asked Pyne.