"Well, my dear Marsham, you have your battle cut out for you! Don't
delay it. Where is Lady Lucy?"
"In town."
"Can't you devise some excuse that will take you back to her early
to-morrow morning?"
Marsham thought over it. Easy enough, if only the engagement were
announced! But both agreed that silence was imperative. Whatever chance
there might be with Lady Lucy would be entirely destroyed were the
matter made public before her son had consulted her.
"Everybody here is on the tiptoe of expectation," said Sir James. "But
that you know; you must face it somehow. Invent a letter from
Ferrier--some party _contretemps_--anything!--I'll help you through. And
if you see your mother in the morning, I will turn up in the afternoon."
The two men paused. They were standing together--in conference; but each
was conscious of a background of hurrying thoughts that had so far been
hardly expressed at all.
Marsham suddenly broke out:
"Sir James!--I know you thought there were excuses--almost
justification--for what that poor creature did. I was a boy of fifteen
at the time you made your famous speech, and I only know it by report.
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