Now, Trafford would have liked to have remained, and, indeed, have settled, at Three Star; for the greatest happiness of his life had come to him there, and it was there that he learned what Esmeralda’s love meant. And again he became almost as popular as Esmeralda herself. The men admired him for his strength, for the fearless way in which he rode, his skill with weapons of offense and defense, and the complete absence of “side.” He was always ready to lend a helping hand with their work, or to take part in anything going on, and his appearance in the Eldorado was always heartily welcomed. He almost forgot that he was a duke, and Three Star may be said to have quite forgotten it.

He and Esmeralda led a perfect life. The wonderful air, the life of exercise, but, above all, her surpassing happiness, soon brought back her old strength and light-heartedness, and she became, as Mother Melinda said, “just a girl” again.

[347]

Between Trafford and Varley a very deep friendship ensued. Love of Esmeralda was common to both, and now Varley understood how passionately Trafford loved her, all traces of Varley’s animosity against him disappeared.

They were all perfectly happy, and were learning to forget the dukedom and its claims upon them, when one day Bill, the postman, brought a letter for Trafford. It was from Lord Selvaine, and consisted of one line:

“Don’t you think you had better come back now?”

He showed it to Esmeralda without a word, and after gazing before her in silence, and musingly, she said, very softly, and with a tone of regret:

“Yes, we must go back, if only for Norman’s sake.” For Norman had stuck by his friends, though his heart was aching for a sight of Lilias.

Lord Selvaine had not written until he had felt compelled to do so. This was how the matter stood. When Lilias had received the telegram from Trafford, saying that he had sailed for Australia, she was naturally both startled and frightened.

“What does it mean?” she asked Lady Ada, anxiously. “Why has he gone so suddenly, and where is Esmeralda?”

Lady Ada turned pale, but gazed at the telegram in silence.

“I must go to town; I must see Lady Wyndover at once. Esmeralda must be there.”

“And I will go with you,” said Ada in a strained voice. “It is time I went home.”

Lilias went up to London and down to Deepdale; but Lord Selvaine had been there before her. Careful as Lady Wyndover had been, a whisper or two had gone round that something was wrong at Belfayre, and Selvaine was one of the first to hear it. He had had his suspicions all along, for he was as sharp as a lynx, and had seen signs of trouble in both Esmeralda’s and Trafford’s faces. He went straight down to Deepdale, and the moment he was ushered into Lady Wyndover’s presence, went as straight to the heart of the matter.

“Where is Esmeralda?” he asked in his quiet way, but with his piercing eyes fixed on her.

Lady Wyndover knew that it would be worse than useless to endeavor to conceal anything from the terribly astute Lord Selvaine, whom she regarded with unmixed awe.

“I don’t know,” she said, with her hands pressed closely together. “I tell everybody she is here, but she is not. I suppose you’ve heard something,” she added, timidly.

“I have heard—something,” he responded.

[348]

Almost at that moment the servant entered with a telegram from Lilias. It said:

“Trafford has sailed for Australia. I am coming to you at once.”

She gave it to Lord Selvaine with trembling hands.

“Oh, what does it mean?”

He read the telegram with half-closed eyes and tightened lips.

“It means that he and Esmeralda have taken a sea voyage.”

“But—but suppose they haven’t? Suppose he has gone alone?” she whispered, fearfully.

He smiled grimly.

“We won’t suppose anything of the kind,” he said. “My dear Lady Wyndover, what is more natural? Trafford and Esmeralda have both been very much upset by the duke’s death. There is nothing in the world so helpful in a bereavement of this kind as complete change of air and scene. Trafford has very wisely taken Esmeralda to what may be called her native air.”

Lady Wyndover gazed at him with a certain doubt mixed with her awe and admiration.

“But it is so sudden—so soon after his father’s death.” She shook her head. “Nobody will believe it.”

He smiled blandly.

“True,” he said. “But I forgot to mention that Trafford received some information respecting some business affairs of Esmeralda’s in Australia, which necessitated their starting for that place immediately.”

He told the fib so coolly, with such an air of truth, that Lady Wyndover herself for a moment almost believed him.

“Oh, how clever you are!” she gasped.

“Thank you,” he said, with a bow. “But all my cleverness, if I possess any, will be of no avail unless you and the family back me up. It will not be difficult. Just repeat what I have said, and repeat it with a cheerful countenance, and all will be well. Married life, my dear Lady Wyndover—I speak of it with authority, because, being a bachelor, I play the part of spectator, and, as you are aware, the spectator sees more of the game than the actual player—married life does not run even as smoothly as true love. Very soon after the nuptial knot has been tied, some little trouble is sure to occur; sometimes it smooths itself away; sometimes, when one or both of the married couple are foolish, the little trouble grows into a big one, and there is—scandal. Now, I am resolved[349] that this trouble of Trafford’s and Esmeralda’s shall not wreck their lives. I happen to know that they are both ridiculously in love with each other, and I shrewdly suspect that our friend, the demon Jealousy, is at the bottom of this mischief; to give him his due, he generally is. When Lilias arrives, tell her what I have told you; give her a loving message from Esmeralda, and then go up to London and see all her friends, and break the news of Trafford’s and Esmeralda’s departure for the delightful Antipodes.”

He himself went back by the next train, and sauntering into his club, remarked casually to the greatest gossip he could find:

“What a delightful trip the duke and duchess will have, and what a good thing it is that they should both be obliged to go at this particular time!”

He made this remark at several houses at which he called, and at a great reception that night, and had the satisfaction of reaping the reward of his astuteness in the shape of a paragraph in the next morning’s paper to the effect that the Duke and Duchess of Belfayre had started for Australia on important business connected with the vast estates which the duchess possessed there; and the society journals, making haste to copy, inferred that nearly all Australia belonged to her grace.

Lord Selvaine’s good offices did not stop at this. He went down to Belfayre and undertook the management of the estate, and any doubts which the curious and suspicious might have entertained were dispelled by his suave and perfectly easeful and contented manner. He did not trouble Trafford with any letters, and he “ran the show” as long as he was able. But there came a time when he could do without Trafford’s presence no longer. Then he wrote his single-line but significant missive, and shortly afterward came into the breakfast-room to Lilias with a cablegram in his hand.

“Trafford and Esmeralda are coming home, my dear,” he said, composedly.

Lilias uttered an exclamation of joy.

“Oh, Selvaine, I am so glad! I can’t tell you how anxious I have been—how their absence and silence has worried me!” and the tears rose to her eyes. “I have had a dread that something was wrong, that something had happened; and though you are very clever, I have sometimes thought that you, too, were anxious about them.”

“I am never anxious about any one, my dear Lilias,” he said—“least of all about married people—and if I were you, I would not be anxious any longer. Trafford and Esmeralda[350] are quite capable of managing their own affairs, and that we have not received any letters from them only proves that they are sensible people and not given to letter-writing. The facilities for epistolary correspondence constitute one of the curses of the age, and I trust we are arriving at a period when the writing of an unnecessary letter will be a capital offense. Will you give me another cup of coffee? By the way, did I mention that Norman was with them and would accompany them home? No sugar, please.”

Lilias’s face crimsoned.

“I am very glad,” she faltered. “Oh, I have put in three lumps! I am very sorry. I will pour you out another cup. I quite forgot that you didn’t take sugar.”

Lord Selvaine smiled blandly.

One day, some six weeks later, the place was in a flutter of excitement, which became almost frantic when a cloud of dust appeared on the road leading to Belfayre, and a man who had been watching from a point of vantage galloped toward the castle, shouting: “They have come!”

There were no triumphal arches, but groups of the Belfayre people were gathered by the road-side and round the gates. The bells had been set ringing, and men were standing on the tower with the flag-ropes in their hands, ready to hoist it the moment his grace the duke should cross the threshold. A hearty welcome awaited them, and the good folks were just as eager to see Esmeralda as Trafford himself.

The carriage came along swiftly and reached the entrance, and there, as if she could not wait until Esmeralda could gain the hall, stood Lilias, the brisk spring wind blowing her rippling hair............