The Great Impersonation · Chapter 23 (2/2)

There was a strange, almost a terrible mixture of expressions in his face as he answered⁠—a certain fear, a certain fondness, a certain almost desperate resignation. Even his voice, as a rule so slow and measured, shook with an emotion which amazed his companion.

“I believe I am,” he muttered. “I am afraid of my feelings for her. It may bring even another tragedy down upon us.”

“Don’t talk rubbish!” Caroline exclaimed. “What tragedy could come between you now? You’ve recovered your balance. You are a strong, steadfast person, just fitted to be the protector of anything so sweet and charming as Rosamund. Tragedy, indeed! Why don’t you take her down to the South of France, Everard, and have your honeymoon all over again?”

“I can’t do that just yet.”

She studied him curiously. There were times when he seemed wholly incomprehensible to her.

“Are you still worried about that Unthank affair?” she asked.

He hesitated for a moment.

“There is still an aftermath to our troubles,” he told her, “one cloud which leans over us. I shall clear it up in time⁠—but other things may happen first.”

“You take yourself very seriously, Everard,” she observed, looking at him with a puzzled expression. “One would think that there was a side of your life, and a very important one, which you kept entirely to yourself. Why do you have that funny little man Seaman always round with you? You’re not being blackmailed or anything, are you?”

“On the contrary,” he told her, “Seaman was the first founder of my fortunes.”

She shrugged her shoulders.

“I have made a little money once or twice on the Stock Exchange,” she remarked, “but I didn’t have to carry my broker about in my pocket afterwards.”

“Seaman is a good-hearted little fellow, and he loves companionship. He will drift away presently, and one won’t see anything of him for ages.”

“Henry began to wonder,” she concluded drily, “whether you were going to stand for Parliament on the Anglo-German alliance ticket.”

Dominey laughed as he caught Middleton’s reproachful eye in the doorway of the farmer’s kitchen in which they were lunching. He gave the signal to rise.

“I have had some thoughts of Parliament,” he admitted, “but⁠—well, Henry need not worry.”