Chapter XIV

Sir Charles glanced furtively at his watch. Lord Fordingbridge examined wistfully a print on the library wall representing a gentleman coming to grief in the hunting field.

"They should be here by now," observed Sir Charles. "Are you absolutely sure of the day?"

Lord Fordingbridge smiled reassuringly.

"Rupert put in for a month's leave of absence commencin' yesterday, my dear fellow. Virginia was clingin' to your Dorset cottage, and so I wrote to Arthur Scrope, the vicar down there. You know him, of course--stroked the Cambridge boat in--let me see, what year was it? He wrote back that he'd been sworn to secrecy, but if I ordered a special luncheon for the twenty-eighth I shouldn't be far wrong. So I let you order the luncheon, Charles. They should be here very shortly."

Even as he spoke a 30-98 Vauxhall with Rupert at the wheel glided along Park Street and drew up outside the front door.

A radiant Vingie descended followed by her husband. They entered jovially a minute later.

"Hullo, darlings! We've got a surprise for you. We're married," exclaimed Vingie, kissing Sir Charles lightly on the brow. "Would you like to look at little Vingie's marriage lines? I carry them about everywhere."

"Congratulations, my dear Virginia. Of course the shock of the surprise is very great," declared Sir Charles, glancing at Lord Fordingbridge, who was busy slapping Rupert on the back. He then relinquished this occupation in order to kiss the bride.

"You must tell us your story over luncheon," went on Sir Charles, as the door opened to admit the butler.

They found the dining-room a mass of roses. By Vingie's plate lay two intriguing cases. One proved to contain a long jade necklace from Lord Fordingbridge, the other a diamond and sapphire bracelet from Sir Charles.

Rupert was staring in amazement at a receipted bill and a check of comforting proportions.

"That's the receipt for the car I 'lent' you, my boy," chuckled Lord Fordingbridge. "I hope you find her to your liking."

"The check is a humble offering from myself," added Sir Charles.

Vingie sat gazing at them with sparkling eyes. "But we never breathed a word. We meant to surprise you. We never gave the faintest hint----"

Lord Fordingbridge regarded her solemnly.

"What did the Duke of Wellington say in 1800?" he observed. "'The great thing is to find out what's going on at the other side of the hill.' Laugh at me if you like, but respect my secret service. Why, the very wine is iced to the psychological temperature!"

"George," interrupted Sir Charles solemnly, "I give you the toast of the bride and bridegroom!"

When the triumphal car had finally departed on its honeymoon journey to Scotland the two old gentlemen returned to the library. With pardonable pride, Sir Charles indicated a bottle of 1815 brandy.

"The last in the cellar, George," he said. "I kept it for Virginia's wedding, God bless her."

"Well, here's to youth and love!" observed his lordship, sipping reverently.

Sir Charles allowed a wise expression to modify his well-cut mouth.

"In a sense, yes, George. Youth and love are remarkable possessions. Nevertheless, give me the understanding of age. In youth one flies into mad ecstasies, but age in the background holds the reins. These two young people are a case in point. Every step of their careers has been ordained by you and me. For the time we let them rejoice and then, from what would seem the most unlikely circumstances we engineered this marriage. We led them, my dear George, by devious routes to meet at the altar. Now that is a thing they could never have done to us, for all their youth."

Lord Fordingbridge placed the tips of his fingers together and a tolerant smile irradiated his rubicund face.

"There is much in what you say, Charles, as even I can see and I'm only a foolish old man. But to-day is a day of rejoicing when the cautious spirit of age seems out of place. Let us therefore, my dear fellow, emulate the glorious recklessness of youth and each take another glass of this excellent brandy."

THE END