"Yes?"
"Except that there was left upon my mind when the verdict was published a vague feeling of doubt."
"There!" cried Mrs. Pettifer triumphantly. "You hear him, Harold."
But Hazelwood paid no attention to her. He was gazing at his brother-in-law with a good deal of uneasiness.
"Why?" he asked. "Why were you in doubt, Robert?"
But Pettifer had said all that he had any mind to say.
"Oh, I can"t remember why," he exclaimed. "I am very likely quite wrong.
Come, Margaret, it"s time that we were getting home."
He crossed over to Hazlewood and held out his hand. Hazlewood, however, did not rise.
"I don"t think that"s quite fair of you, Robert," he said. "You don"t disturb my confidence, of course--I have gone into the case thoroughly--but I think you ought to give me a chance of satisfying you that your doubts have no justification."
"No really," exclaimed Pettifer. "I absolutely refuse to mix myself up in the affair at all." A step sounded upon the gravel path outside the window. Pettifer raised a warning finger. "It"s midnight, Margaret," he said. "We must go"; and as he spoke d.i.c.k Hazlewood walked in through the open window.
He smiled at the group of his relations with a grim amus.e.m.e.nt. They certainly wore a guilty look. He was surprised to remark some embarra.s.sment even upon his father"s face.
"You will see your aunt off, Richard," said Mr. Hazlewood.
"Of course."
The Pettifers and d.i.c.k went out into the hall, leaving the old man in his chair, a little absent, perhaps a little troubled.
"Aunt Margaret, you have been upsetting my father," said d.i.c.k.
"Nonsense, d.i.c.k," she replied, and her face flushed. She stepped into the carriage quickly to avoid questions, and as she stepped in d.i.c.k noticed that she was carrying a little paper-covered book. Pettifer followed.
"Good-night, d.i.c.k," he said, and he shook hands with his nephew very warmly. In spite of his cordiality, however, d.i.c.k"s face grew hard as he watched the carriage drive away. Stella was right. The Pettifers were the enemy. Well, he had always known there would be a fight, and now the sooner it came the better. He went back to the library and as he opened the door he heard his father"s voice. The old man was sitting sunk in his chair and repeating to himself:
"I won"t believe it. I won"t believe it."
He stopped at once when d.i.c.k came in. d.i.c.k looked at him with concern.
"You are tired, father," he said.
"Yes, I think I am a little. I"ll go to bed."
Hazlewood watched d.i.c.k walk over to the corner table where the candles stood beside the tray, and his face cleared. For the first time in his life the tidy well-groomed conventional look of his son was a real pleasure to him. Richard was of those to whom the good-will of the world meant much. He would never throw it lightly away. Hazlewood got up and took one of the candles from his son. He patted him on the shoulder. He became quite at ease as he looked into his face.
"Good-night, my boy," he said.
"Good-night, sir," replied d.i.c.k cheerfully. "There"s nothing like acting up to one"s theories, is there?"
"Nothing," said the old man heartily. "Look at my life!"
"Yes," replied d.i.c.k. "And now look at mine. I am going to marry Stella Ballantyne."
For a moment Mr. Hazlewood stood perfectly still. Then he murmured lamely:
"Oh, are you? Are you, Richard?" and he shuffled quickly out of the room.
CHAPTER XVIII
MR. HAZLEWOOD SEEKS ADVICE
As d.i.c.k was getting out of bed at half-past seven a troubled little note was brought to him written hurriedly and almost incoherent.
"d.i.c.k, I can"t ride with you this morning. I am too tired ... and I don"t think we should meet again. You must forget last night. I shall be very proud always to remember it, but I won"t ruin you, d.i.c.k. You mustn"t think I shall suffer so very much ..." d.i.c.k read it all through with a smile of tenderness upon his face. He wrote a line in reply. "I will come and see you at eleven, Stella. Meanwhile sleep, my dear," and sent it across to the cottage. Then he rolled back into bed again and took his own advice. It was late when he came down into the dining-room and he took his breakfast alone.
"Where"s my father?" he asked of Hubbard the butler.
"Mr. Hazlewood breakfasted half an hour ago, sir. He"s at work now."
"Capital," said d.i.c.k. "Give me some sausages. Hubbard, what would you say if I told you that I was going to be married?"
Hubbard placed a plate in front of him.
"I should keep my head, sir," he answered in his gentle voice. "Will you take tea?"
"Thank you."
d.i.c.k looked out of the window. It was a morning of clear skies and sunlight, a very proper morning for this the first of all the remarkable days which one after the other were going especially to belong to him. He was of the G.o.ds now. The world was his property, or rather he held it in trust for Stella. It was behaving well; d.i.c.k Hazlewood was contented. He ate a large breakfast and strolling into the library lit his pipe. There was his father bending over his papers at his writing-table before the window, busy as a bee no doubt at some new enthusiasm which was destined to infuriate his neighbours. Let him go on! d.i.c.k smiled benignly at the old man"s back. Then he frowned. It was curious that his father had not wished him a good-morning, curious and unusual.
"I hope, sir, that you slept well," he said.
"I did not, Richard," and still the back was turned to him. "I lay awake considering with some care what you told me last night about--about Stella Ballantyne."
Of late she had been simply Stella to Harold Hazlewood. The addition of Ballantyne was significant. It replaced friendliness with formality.
"Yes, we agreed to champion her cause, didn"t we?" said d.i.c.k cheerily.
"You took one good step forward last night, I took another."
"You took a long stride, Richard, and I think you might have consulted me first."
d.i.c.k walked over to the table at which his father sat.
"Do you know, that"s just what Stella said," he remarked, and he seemed to find the suggestion rather unintelligible. Mr. Hazlewood s.n.a.t.c.hed at any support which was offered to him.
"Ah!" he exclaimed, and for the first time that morning he looked his son in the face. "There now, Richard, you see!"
"Yes," Richard returned imperturbably. "But I was able to remove all her fears. I was able to tell her that you would welcome our marriage with all your heart, for you would look upon it as a triumph for your principles and a sure sign that my better nature was at last thoroughly awake."