The Master Mummer Part 10

"That is the young lady," I answered. "Have you anything to say to her?"

"My errand here is with her," Lady Delahaye declared. "What is it that you call yourself, girl?"

Isobel was a little bewildered. She seemed scarcely able to appreciate Lady Delahaye's att.i.tude.

"My name," she said, "is Isobel de Sorrens."

"You a.s.serted at the inquest," Lady Delahaye continued, "that my husband was your guardian. What did you mean by such an extraordinary statement?"

Isobel seemed suddenly to grasp the situation. Her finely arched eyebrows were raised, her cheeks were pink, her eyes sparkling. She rose slowly to her feet, and, child though she was, the dignity of her demeanour was such that Lady Delahaye with her accusing forefinger seemed to shrink into insignificance.

"I think," she said, "that you are a very rude person. Major Delahaye took me to the convent of St. Argueil when I was four years old, and left me there. He visited me twelve months ago, and brought me to England you know when. I was with him for less than twenty-four hours, and I was very unhappy indeed all the time. I did not understand the things which he said to me, nor did I like him at all. I think that if he had left me out of his sight for a moment I should have run away."

Lady Delahaye was very pale, and her eyes were full of unpleasant things. I found myself looking at her, and marvelling at the folly which I had long since forgotten.

"You perhaps complained of him--to his murderer! It is you, no doubt, who are responsible for my husband's death!"

Isobel's lips curled contemptuously.

"Major Delahaye," she said, "did not permit me to speak to anyone. As for the man whom you call his murderer, I never saw him before in my life, nor should I recognize him again if I saw him now. I do not know why you come here and say all these unkind things to me. I have done you no harm. I am very sorry about Major Delahaye, but--but--"

Her lips quivered. I hastily interposed.

"Lady Delahaye," I said, "I do not know what the immediate object of your visit here may be, but----"

"The immediate object of my visit," she interrupted coldly, "is as repugnant to me, Mr. Greatson, as it may possibly be disappointing to you. I am here, however, to carry out my husband's last wish. This child herself has a.s.serted that he was her guardian. By his death that most unwelcome post devolves upon me."

Isobel turned white, as though stung by a sudden apprehension. She looked towards me, and I took her hand in mine. Lady Delahaye smiled unpleasantly upon us both.

"You mean," I said, "that you wish to take her away from us?"

"Wis.h.!.+" Lady Delahaye repeated coldly. "I can a.s.sure you that I am not consulting my own wishes upon the subject at all. What I am doing is simply my duty. The child had better get her hat on."

Isobel did not move, but she turned very pale. Her eyes seemed fastened upon mine. She waited for me to speak. The situation was embarra.s.sing enough so far as I was concerned, for Lady Delahaye was obviously in earnest. I tried to gain time.

"May I ask what your intentions are with regard to the child? You intend to take her to your home--to adopt her, I suppose?"

Lady Delahaye regarded me with cold surprise.

"Certainly not," she answered. "I shall find a fitting position for her in her own station of life."

"May I a.s.sume then," I continued, with some eagerness, "that you know what that is? You are acquainted, perhaps, with her parentage?"

She returned my gaze steadily.

"I may be," she answered. "That, however, is beside the question. I intend to do my duty by the child. If you have been put to any expense with regard to her, you can mention the amount and I will defray it. I have answered enough questions. What is your name, child--Isobel? Get ready to come with me."

Isobel answered her steadily, but her eyes were filled with shrinking fear.

"I do not wish to come with you," she said. "I do not like you at all."

Lady Delahaye raised her eyebrows. It seemed to me that in a quiet way she was becoming angry.

"Unfortunately," she said, "your liking or disliking me makes very little difference. I have no choice in the matter at all. The care of you has devolved upon me, and I must undertake it. You had better come at once."

Isobel trembled where she stood. I judged it time to intervene.

"Lady Delahaye," I said, "the duty of looking after this child is evidently a distasteful one to you. We will relieve you of it. She can remain with us."

Lady Delahaye looked at me in astonishment. Then she laughed, and it seemed to all of us that we had never heard a more unpleasant travesty of mirth.

"Indeed!" she exclaimed. "And may I ask of whom your household consists?"

"Of myself and my two friends, Mabane and Fielding. We have a most responsible housekeeper, however, who will be able to look after the child."

"Until she herself can qualify for the position, I presume," Lady Delahaye remarked drily. "What a delightful arrangement! A sort of co-operative household. Quite Arcadian, I am sure, and so truly philanthropic. You have changed a good deal during the last few years, Mr. Arnold Greatson, to be able to stand there and make such an extraordinary proposition to me."

I was determined not to lose my temper, though, as a matter of fact, I was fiercely angry.

"Lady Delahaye," I said, "we are not prepared to give this child up to you. It will perhaps help to shorten a--a painful interview if you will accept that from me as final."

The change in Isobel was marvellous. The brilliant colour streamed into her cheeks. Her long-drawn, quivering sigh of relief seemed in the momentary silence which followed my p.r.o.nouncement a very audible thing.

Lady Delahaye looked at me as though she doubted the meaning of my words.

"You are aware," she said, "that this will mean great unpleasantness for you. You know the law?"

"I neither know it nor wish to know it," I answered. "We shall not give up the child."

I glanced at Mabane. His confirmation was swift and decisive.

"I am entirely in accord with my friend, madam," he said, with grim precision.

"The law will compel you," she declared.

"We will do our best, then," he answered, "to cheat the law."

"I should like to add, Lady Delahaye," I continued, "that our housekeeper, who has been in the service of my family for over thirty years, has willingly undertaken the care of the child, and I can a.s.sure you, in case you should have any anxieties concerning her, that she will be as safe under our charge as in your own."

Lady Delahaye moved towards the door. On the threshold she turned and laid her hand upon my arm. I was preparing to show her out. There was meaning in her eyes as she leaned towards me.

"Mr. Greatson," she said, "we were once friends, or I should drive straight from here to my solicitors. I presume you are aware that your present att.i.tude is capable of very serious misrepresentation?"

"I must take the risk of that, Lady Delahaye," I answered. "I ask you to remember, however, that the law would also require you to prove your guardians.h.i.+p. Do you yourself know anything of the child's parentage?"

She did not answer me directly.

"I shall give you," she said, "twenty-four hours for reflection. At the end of that time, if I do not hear from you, I shall apply to the courts."

I held the door open and bowed.