He was waiting for her on his favourite perch, the music-stool, swinging
idly to and fro, with his customary serenity of demeanour. He moved to
meet her with a quiet smile of welcome. A piece of strapping-plaster
across his left temple was all that remained of his recent
disfigurement.
"I hope my visit is not premature," he remarked as he shook hands.
"Oh, no!" she answered somewhat nervously. "I expected you. Please sit
down."
He subsided again upon the music-stool, and there followed a silence
which she found peculiarly disconcerting.
"You have been thinking over my suggestion?" he drawled at length.
"Yes," she said. "Yes, I have." She paused a moment, then, "I--am afraid
it wouldn't answer," she said, with an effort, "though I am very
grateful to you for thinking of it. You see, there are so many
obstacles."
"But not insurmountable, any of them," smiled Lord Ronald.
"I am afraid so," she said.
He looked at her.
"May I not hear what they are?"
She hesitated.
"For one thing, you know," she said, "one pays one's servants."
"Well, but you can pay me," he said simply. "I shall not ask very high
wages. I am easily satisfied. I shouldn't call that an obstacle."
She laughed a little.
"But that isn't all. There is the danger of being found out. It--it
would make it rather awkward, wouldn't it? People would talk."
"No one ever talks scandal of me," said Lord Ronald comfortably.
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