Dick Alford, waiting in the pretty drawing-room and wondering exactly how he should introduce what promised to be a very unpleasant discussion, saw the door flung open and a white-faced girl ran in.
“Oh, Dick, Dick!” she sobbed.
In a moment she was in his arms, her face against his breast.
“For God’s sake, what has happened? How did you come here?” he asked, bewildered.
Before she could reply, the big figure of Fabrian Gilder filled the doorway. The man did not speak, but the smouldering rage in his eyes was eloquent.
“Well, what do you want?” he boomed.
Dick put the girl gently from him.
“Why are you here, Leslie?”
“Arthur brought me,” she gasped. “I’m awfully sorry to make such a fool of myself, but----”
Dick looked from the girl to the man in the doorway and began dimly to understand.
“Arthur brought you here?” he said slowly. “And left you alone--with this man?”
She nodded.
“Is he a friend of yours?”
She shook her head.
“I only met him to-day.”
Gradually the explanation of her distress was beginning to dawn upon him, and a cold rage filled his heart. An unfortunate moment for Arthur Gwyn to return. Dick heard the tinkle of a bell, quick footsteps in the hall, and saw the white face of the lawyer, made hideous by the smile he forced.
“Hullo, old girl! What’s the trouble?” he asked.
He did not look at his host: this Dick noticed with gathering fury.
“I think you had better take Leslie home,” he said. “I have a little business to do with Mr. Gilder.”
Gilder had recovered something of his command of himself and his feelings; the situation, awkward as it was, had brought him violently into the circle about which so far he had revolved. It were better to be considered as an undesirable suitor than to be denied consideration as a factor at all in Leslie Gwyn’s life.
“May I ask by what right you dispose of my guests?” he demanded, but Dick took no notice of him.
“Look after your sister, Gwyn,” he said, and there was a scarcely veiled menace in the words. “I will give myself the pleasure of calling on you this evening.”
He took the girl’s hand in his; she was still white and shaking, but smiled into his face.
“I’ve made myself rather ridiculous, haven’t I?” she said, in a low tone that only he could hear. “Dicky--perhaps I’m getting a little jumpy, and I may have taken offence----”
He patted her hand gently and walked with her past Gilder into the hall, Arthur following. It was Dick who opened the door, and stood patiently until they had gone, then he turned to face the enraged owner of the flat.
“I had some real business to do with you, Gilder, but that can wait. First of all, I would like to ask, what have you said to Miss Gwyn?”
“That is entirely my business,” said Gilder. His gaze was steady; again he was completely master of himself, if not of the situation.
“My business also,” said Dick, without heat. “You are aware that Miss Gwyn is engaged to my brother?”
Gilder licked his dry lips.
“That doesn’t really interest me,” he said. And then, after a second’s thought: “I’m going to be frank with you, Alford--we may as well clear the air. I have asked Miss Gwyn to be my wife.”
“Oh, indeed?” said Dick softly. “And what had Miss Gwyn to say to that?”
“You didn’t give her an opportunity of replying,” said the other, “but I rather think that there will be no difficulty in the matter.”
Dick did not conceal his smile. A shrewd judge of men, he had rightly understood the situation when he had seen Arthur’s face on his return to the flat.
“You mean there will be no difficulty so far as Mr. Gwyn is concerned? I admit you have an historical precedent. You are not the first lawyer who wished to marry into his master’s family.”
If Dick had not been angry he would not have said this; immediately the words were out he was sorry. But Gilder took up the point quickly.
“I am not a Uriah Heep,” he said, with a grim smile. “I am neither humble nor lowly.”
“I’m sorry, but really I don’t think that matters very much, Gilder. Whatever Mr. Gwyn’s attitude may be, there will be a considerable difficulty in respect to Miss Gwyn--and to me.”
“To you?” Gilder’s eyebrows went up and his lips curled. “Are you the lady’s--er----”
“I am not engaged to Miss Gwyn, but my brother is,” said Dick evenly. “But that is not the point. I am a friend of Leslie Gwyn’s, and even if she changed her mind about marrying into my family, that would not affect the issue.”
Gilder was about to speak, but Dick went on:
“I don’t know what pull you have with Gwyn or what dire threats you are holding over his head.”
He saw the man start, and laughed.
“That went very near the mark?” he said. “But whatever influence you have, Gilder, you are not going to marry Leslie Gwyn.”
Gilder’s eyes narrowed.
“Is that a threat?” he asked.
“You can take it as a threat or as a pleasant compliment, or any old way you choose,” said Dick, with that impish smile of his. “And now, if you don’t mind, we’ll come to business. You’ve bought a property of ours--Red Farm. You’ve paid thirty-five hundred pounds to Leonard. I have come to ask you to call off your bargain and to take five hundred profit.”
“In other words, you want to buy it back, eh? Well, there’s nothing doing!” said Gilder harshly. “I intend living at Red Farm, and there isn’t a law in the land that can stop me. You may not like my presence, but that is neither here nor there. I am not living at Chelfordbury for the pleasure of seeing you every day of my life.”
Dick nodded.
“I wondered why you wanted to live there at all, but now I think I understand,” he said. “The offer I have made to you is without prejudice to any action I may take. Unfortunately for you, Leonard has no power to re-transfer the property without my brother’s consent--which means my consent, for I hold his power of attorney. Leonard may hold the property, but you cannot. You’re a lawyer and it is not necessary for me to explain the intricacies of a copyhold lease, and that was all Leonard was buying. If you decide to fight the case, I’ll take you into court, and you know that I shall get a verdict against you. I am offering you a chance of settling the matter amicably.”
“Which I refuse,” said the other promptly.
Dick inclined his head.
“Very good. You will probably, on considering the matter in a calmer atmosphere, take a different view.”
He walked from the room, swinging his hat. In the doorway he turned.
“As for Miss Leslie Gwyn, you will be well advised to reconsider that question also.”
“And suppose I don’t?”
Again that unfathomable smile.
“You are going to be sorry,” said Dick cryptically.
