is the very one to do it. I meant to be in touch with him in any case. I shall send him a note this very day. This very instant!”she said, rising to search the cavernous building for a study.
Her elder daughter hurried after her. “Do you think it wise to publicize our predicament, Mama? We always said that in the worst case we would spend our own money to tide us over. I am not eager for the straits we are in to be discussed in every drawing room.
“Pshaw. Sir Darrow won’t tell anyone. He is close as a clock. It is required in his profession, for those lawyers hear all manner of disgraceful things about their clients. A little bankruptcy is not worth mentioning to them.”
“Caution him not to tell his wife. Ladies are not so close.”
“I don’t know that he has a wife, Sal. She was ill at the time he joined your father. He might be a widower by now. I think I heard he is, in fact. I’ll ask him to come around here. I could not face going to your father’s office. The memories would overcome me, and it is so unflattering to be seen with red eyes.”
* * * *
Lord and Lady Derwent absented themselves to call on various relatives of the groom after luncheon, but Sally elected to remain home with her mother to speak to Sir Darrow Willowby, whom she remembered fondly from her youth. She did not remember him being quite so old, nor so diminutive, as he turned out to be. He was not a day under sixty, with already a slight stooping forward around the shoulders. He wore his snow-white hair parted in the center, to lengthen even further his pencil-thin face. But the eyes were still a bright and mischievous blue, with the brows sprouting in thicker strands than before.
“Ho, Mrs. Hermitage—Mabel, you haven’t changed one iota since I saw you last,”he shouted from the doorway of the saloon. Soon he was shuffling in, smiling at them both. “You never mean to tell me you still have this minx on your hands?”he asked in surprise as he looked at Sally. “I made sure she’d be married from the schoolroom. The prettiest face in London—present company, of course, excepted,”he added with a bow to the beaming mother.
“Darrow! How nice it is to see you again. Just like old times,”the hostess declared. Tears sprung to her eyes at the memories inevitably evoked by this vision from the past.
“You would have seen me long since, had you let me know where you were living, shatterbrain,”he scolded, shaking a finger at her. “I told you to keep in touch, and how many years have passed? Never mind. I don’t want to know. It is too many.”
He sat down, placed his cane between his knees, and rubbed his hands together. Then he assumed a more serious aspect and said, “Now, dry those tears and let us hear what hobble you have fallen into, Mabel. You know I am never savage with you.”
Mrs. Hermitage outlined, with many polite circumlocutions, her situation, bringing him up to date with the marriage of her younger daughter.
Sir Darrow listened sharply. “Why, you are well offand don’t know it. Half the lords in London couldn’t pay their bills if everything they owned were sold off at auction. And you have nabbed an earl for one of the girls into the bargain. You’ll have no trouble disposing of this saucy piece,”he added with an admiring study of Sally. “Should have brought her out two or three years ago. I have been waiting that long to make her an offer. Ha-ha.”He finished with a waggish shake of his white head to show his jest.
“What we really want to know, Darrow, is whether Monstuart can keep Derwent’s money from him for the two years, as he threatens to do,”Mrs. Hermitage explained.
Sir Darrow raised his brows and pursed his lips in a well-remembered fashion that gave him a comical air. “In a word, yes. Legally, he can. Speaking more practically, he will look a flaming jackass if he does. There is no point in it. The cent percenters will be happy to get their hooks into young Derwent.
Her elder daughter hurried after her. “Do you think it wise to publicize our predicament, Mama? We always said that in the worst case we would spend our own money to tide us over. I am not eager for the straits we are in to be discussed in every drawing room.
“Pshaw. Sir Darrow won’t tell anyone. He is close as a clock. It is required in his profession, for those lawyers hear all manner of disgraceful things about their clients. A little bankruptcy is not worth mentioning to them.”
“Caution him not to tell his wife. Ladies are not so close.”
“I don’t know that he has a wife, Sal. She was ill at the time he joined your father. He might be a widower by now. I think I heard he is, in fact. I’ll ask him to come around here. I could not face going to your father’s office. The memories would overcome me, and it is so unflattering to be seen with red eyes.”
* * * *
Lord and Lady Derwent absented themselves to call on various relatives of the groom after luncheon, but Sally elected to remain home with her mother to speak to Sir Darrow Willowby, whom she remembered fondly from her youth. She did not remember him being quite so old, nor so diminutive, as he turned out to be. He was not a day under sixty, with already a slight stooping forward around the shoulders. He wore his snow-white hair parted in the center, to lengthen even further his pencil-thin face. But the eyes were still a bright and mischievous blue, with the brows sprouting in thicker strands than before.
“Ho, Mrs. Hermitage—Mabel, you haven’t changed one iota since I saw you last,”he shouted from the doorway of the saloon. Soon he was shuffling in, smiling at them both. “You never mean to tell me you still have this minx on your hands?”he asked in surprise as he looked at Sally. “I made sure she’d be married from the schoolroom. The prettiest face in London—present company, of course, excepted,”he added with a bow to the beaming mother.
“Darrow! How nice it is to see you again. Just like old times,”the hostess declared. Tears sprung to her eyes at the memories inevitably evoked by this vision from the past.
“You would have seen me long since, had you let me know where you were living, shatterbrain,”he scolded, shaking a finger at her. “I told you to keep in touch, and how many years have passed? Never mind. I don’t want to know. It is too many.”
He sat down, placed his cane between his knees, and rubbed his hands together. Then he assumed a more serious aspect and said, “Now, dry those tears and let us hear what hobble you have fallen into, Mabel. You know I am never savage with you.”
Mrs. Hermitage outlined, with many polite circumlocutions, her situation, bringing him up to date with the marriage of her younger daughter.
Sir Darrow listened sharply. “Why, you are well offand don’t know it. Half the lords in London couldn’t pay their bills if everything they owned were sold off at auction. And you have nabbed an earl for one of the girls into the bargain. You’ll have no trouble disposing of this saucy piece,”he added with an admiring study of Sally. “Should have brought her out two or three years ago. I have been waiting that long to make her an offer. Ha-ha.”He finished with a waggish shake of his white head to show his jest.
“What we really want to know, Darrow, is whether Monstuart can keep Derwent’s money from him for the two years, as he threatens to do,”Mrs. Hermitage explained.
Sir Darrow raised his brows and pursed his lips in a well-remembered fashion that gave him a comical air. “In a word, yes. Legally, he can. Speaking more practically, he will look a flaming jackass if he does. There is no point in it. The cent percenters will be happy to get their hooks into young Derwent.
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