CHAPTER 5 “IF HE HAD ONLY COME HIMSELF.”

“Show me into a room where I am not likely to be interrupted,” the old soldier said to the footman who stepped forward. “And tell Lady Elaine that I am here upon a matter of great urgency.”

The footman grasped the situation with alacrity. The colonel was a favorite with everybody. His liberality, if not his past record for deeds of valor, entitled him to respect, particularly in the servants’ hall.

Colonel Greyson was ushered into a small private library, and ten minutes later Lady Elaine entered the room, her eyes anxious, troubled and expectant.

“Good-morning, Elaine!” the old soldier said. He always addressed the earl’s daughter with easy familiarity.

Her ladyship faintly responded to his greeting.

“There, sit down, my dear, and compose yourself. Why, you are trembling as though with cold, while I am boiling with perspiration and bad temper!”

Lady Elaine obeyed, smiling in a wintry sort of way.

“Perhaps it was my duty to see your father first,” the old soldier began, “but as he is anything but a sympathetic man where young people’s love affairs are concerned, I have come direct to you, my dear.”

Lady Elaine paled, and her heart throbbed wildly.

“You have heard?” she hazarded.

“I have heard that two young people who passionately love each other are trying their utmost to drift into the shoals of misery,” he replied, kindly.

“Has Sir Harold told you anything?” she demanded, proudly.

It seemed to her a strange thing to do. Why should he make their little differences public?

The colonel was quick to notice this.

“Elaine,” he said, “I called at Annesley Park to try and induce Sir Harold to interest himself in local affairs. To my utter astonishment I found him in the very depths of despair.”

The tears started to the girl’s eyes.

“Now, although I have been like a father to the lad, I had some difficulty in learning the cause of his misery. At last he told me, in a disjointed way, that his engagement—that your engagement, was at an end, and that he was upon the point of starting for some outlandish place, never to return. I told him that it was all stuff, but he assured me that you preferred some one else to him, and I have galloped over here to know what is really the matter. You are just sending the lad to his death!”

“Oh, colonel, why will you be so unkind to me?” Elaine whispered.

“Because he is a fool!” blurted out the old soldier, angrily. “My dear, you did a very silly thing in sending him some letter that he mentioned. Why not undo the mischief at once? What do you care about Viscount Rivington? Nothing!”

“I hate him,” said Lady Elaine, “but I cannot insult a guest whom my father honors. Why will Sir Harold be so unreasonably jealous? Why will he not trust me as I trust him?”

“You must pocket your pride, my dear. I don’t pretend to take sides with Harold, but you must admit that he never runs after any other girls. Indeed, he is barely civil to any other woman except yourself. He is a romantic sort of fellow, a modern knight-errant, full of poetry, chivalry and all that kind of thing. His friendship or his love nothing will alter when once given. He is an idealist, and being so much out of the common run of simpering, deceitful dandies, merits a peculiar consideration. With all these super-excellent qualities, he is as stupid as a mule, and if you don’t want to lose him you must call him back to you—that’s the beginning and the end of it!”

For a little while Lady Elaine was silent. Then she paced the floor like an insulted queen. It was a struggle between love and pride.

“I will think it over, Colonel Greyson,” she said, tremulously. “I will think it over, and——”

“You will wait until it is too late, child. The mad-brained fellow will be gone past recall,” the old soldier said, vigorously.

“Oh, what am I to do?” was her piteous cry. “I have no one to advise me!”

“Am I not advising you? Let me go back to Annesley Park and tell him that you wish to see him.”

“But that would mean unconditional surrender,” Lady Elaine replied, with a flash of scorn. “I will not be treated like a willful child—no, not if my heart were rended to atoms! What wrong have I done? Sir Harold listens to every scrap of tittle-tattle and believes it. You have come to champion his cause, Colonel Greyson, and in your heart you think that I am all to blame.”