_ CHAPTER NINE. "TOO LATE!"
"Sir Mark at home, Andrews?" said Stratton as the door was opened by the butler.
"Yes, sir. Mr Barron's with him, but of course he'll see you. Will you step up in the drawing room? Only the young ladies there."
"No, thanks," said Stratton hurriedly. "Ask Sir Mark if he will see me or make some appointment. Where is he?"
"In the library, sir."
"Mr Barron with him," thought Stratton as the butler showed him into the dining room and closed the door. "Wonder what he is like. Oh! impossible. How easily a man can be jealous."
As he stood looking up at the portrait of a lady--Myra's mother--he fancied he heard steps in the hall, and directly after the butler entered.
"Sir Mark will see you, sir," said the butler.
"But Mr Barron is there?"
"No, sir, just gone up to join the ladies."
Stratton winced, and the next moment was shown into the library.
"Ah, Malcolm Stratton," cried the admiral bluntly. "Come in, my dear boy. How are you? Glad you've called. My friend Mr Barron was here. I wanted to introduce you two. Travelled much, but he's chary of making new friends. You'll like him, though, I'm sure. Wonderful fellow at the management of a yacht, and a magnificent swimmer. Why, I believe that man, sir, could swim for miles."
"Indeed, Sir Mark."
"Oh, yes; but sit down, Stratton; you are quite a stranger. Want to see me on business?"
"Yes; I--"
But before he could get any further the admiral, who seemed in high spirits, interrupted him.
"Pity you were not ten minutes sooner. Barron was telling me a most amusing story of slave life in Trinidad in the old days. Wonderful fund of anecdote. But you said business or an appointment, my dear boy. Bad man to come to unless it's about the sea. What is it?"
Stratton made no answer for a few moments. The difficulty was how to begin. It was not that he was strange with the admiral, for, consequent upon the friendship formerly existing between Miss Jerrold and his mother, Sir Mark's house had been open to him times enough. Seeing his hesitation the old sailor smiled encouragement.
"Come, my lad," he said, "out with it. Is something wrong? Want help?"
"Yes, sir, yours," said Stratton, making his plunge, and now speaking quickly. "The fact is, Sir Mark, I have had news this morning--glorious news for me."
"Glad of it, my dear boy. But you looked just now as if you were going to court-martial for running your ship aground."
"I suppose it was natural, sir. Yesterday I was a poor struggling man, to-day I have had the letter announcing my appointment to the Headley Museum, and it is not only the stipend--a liberal one--but the position that is so valuable for one who is fighting to make his way in the scientific ranks."
The admiral stretched out his hand, and shook Stratton's warmly.
"Glad of it, my dear boy. My congratulations on your promotion. I shall see you an admiral among the scientific bigwigs yet. To be sure; of course. I have been so taken up with other things--being abroad--and so much worried and occupied since I came back, that I had forgotten all about it. But my sister told me she was moving heaven and earth, and going down on her knees to all kinds of great guns to beg them to salute you."
"Then it has been her doing," cried Stratton excitedly.
"Oh, yes; I think she has done something in it. Do the girls know?"
"No, sir; not yet," said Stratton hastily. "I felt that it was my duty to come to you first."
"Eh? Very good of you, I'm sure. I'll send for them. They'll be delighted."
He rose to ring, but Stratton interposed.
"Not yet, sir, please," he cried; "I have something else to say."
"Wants to borrow a hundred for his outfit," thought the admiral. "Well, I like the fellow; he shall have it. Now, my lad," he said aloud as he resumed his seat. "What is it?"
Stratton hesitated for a few moments, and then hurriedly:
"I have met Miss Myra Jerrold and Miss Perrin frequently at their aunt's, Sir Mark, and to a great extent you have made me free of your house. You will grant, I hope, that feelings such as have grown up in me were quite natural. It was impossible for me to be in their society without forming an attachment, but I give you my word, sir, as a man, that never by word or look have I trespassed upon the kindness you have accorded me; and had I remained poor, as I believed myself yesterday, I should never have uttered a word."
"Humph!" ejaculated the admiral, gazing at him sternly.
"But now that I do know my position, my first step is to come to you and explain."
"And the young lady? You have not spoken to her on the subject?"
"Never, Sir Mark, I swear."
"A gentleman's word is enough, sir. Well, I will not profess ignorance. My sister did once drop me a kind of hint about my duties, and I have noticed a little thing now and then."
"You have noticed, sir?" cried Stratton, looking startled.
"Oh, yes," said the admiral, smiling. "I'm not an observant man over such matters; in fact, I woke up only three months ago to find how blind I could be; but in your case I did have a few suspicions; for you young men are very transparent."
"Really, Sir Mark, I assure you," faltered Stratton, "I have been most guarded."
"Of course you have, my lad. Well, I am a poor pilot in love matters, but I don't see here why we should not go straight ahead. You are both young and suitable for each other. Rebecca swears by you, and I confess that I rather like you when you are not so confoundedly learned."
"Sir Mark!" cried Stratton, his voice husky with emotion, "in my wildest moments I never thought--"
"That I should be such an easy-going fellow, eh? But we are running too fast, boy. There is the young lady to think about."
"Of course--of course, sir."
"Not the custom to consult the ship about her captain, but we will here," cried Sir Mark with a laugh; "they generally appoint the captain right off. We'll have her down, bless her. A good girl, Stratton, and I congratulate you."
"But one moment, sir," faltered the young man; "is it kind--so suddenly--give me leave to speak to her first."
"No," said the old sailor abruptly; "she shall come down, and it shall be _yes_ or _no_ right off."
He rang the bell sharply, and then crossed back to Stratton, and shook his hand again.
"You've behaved very well indeed, my lad," he said; "and I like you for it. I never knew your father, but he must have been a gentleman. Your mother, Becky's friend, was as sweet a lady as I ever met."
The butler entered.
"Mr Barron gone?"
"No, Sir Mark."
"Don't matter. Go and ask Miss Perrin to step down here."
The butler bowed, and left the room.
Stratton started from his seat with his face ghastly.
"Hullo, my lad! what's the matter? Time for action, and afraid to meet that saucy little thing. I say, you scientific fellows make poor lovers. Hold up, man, or she'll laugh at you."
"Sir Mark!" gasped Stratton. "Ring again--a horrible mistake on your part."
"What the deuce do you mean, sir? You come and propose for my niece's hand--"
"No; no, Sir Mark," cried the young man wildly.
"What! Why I've seen you attentive to her a score of times. I say again, what the deuce do you mean? Why--why--you were not talking about my own child?"
"My words all related to Miss Jerrold, Sir Mark," said Stratton, now speaking in a voice full of despair. "I never imagined that you could possibly misunderstand me."
"But, confound you, I did, sir. What the devil do you mean by blundering out such a lame tale as that?"
"Want me, uncle dear?" said Edie, entering the room.
"No, no, my dear. Run along upstairs. You're not wanted. I have business with Mr Stratton here."
Edie darted a frightened glance from the choleric, flushed countenance of her uncle to Stratton's, which was almost white.
"Oh, poor Mr Stratton," she thought as she drew back. "Then he did not know before."
The door closed, and Sir Mark turned upon Stratton fiercely.
"Why, confound you, sir!" he began; but the despairing face before him was disarming. "No, no," he cried, calming down; "no use to get in a passion about it. Poor lad! poor lad!" he muttered. Then aloud: "You were speaking, then, of Myra--my daughter--all the time?"
"Yes." Only that word in a despondent tone, for he could read rejection in every line of the old sailor's face.
"But I always thought--oh, what a confounded angle. This is not men's work. Why isn't Rebecca here? Mr Stratton, this is all a horrible blunder. Surely Myra--my daughter--never encouraged you to hope?"
"Never, sir; but I did hope and believe. Let me see her, Sir Mark. I thought I was explicit, but we have been playing at cross purposes. Yes; ask Miss Jerrold to see me here--in your presence. Surely it is not too late to remedy such a terrible mistake."
"But it is too late, Mr Stratton; and really I don't think I could ever have agreed to such an engagement, even if my child had been willing."
"Sir Mark!" pleaded Stratton.
"For Heaven's sake, let's bring it to an end, sir. I never imagined such a thing. Why, man, then all the time you were making friends with one cousin, so as to get her on your side."
"I don't know--was I?" said Stratton dejectedly.
"Of course, sir. Acting the timid lover with the old result!" cried Sir Mark angrily.
Stratton gazed excitedly in his face; there was so much meaning in his words.
"There," continued the admiral; "but it must come, sir, and you must bear it like a man. My child, Myra, has accepted my friend Mr Barron, and the marriage is to take place almost at once."
Stratton stood for a few moments gazing in Sir Mark's face, as if he failed to grasp the full tenor of his words. Then, turning slowly, and without a word, he left the room, walked back to his quaint, panelled chambers, and hid his despair from the eyes of man. _