The thought that Rachel might be angry at his deceptive plot did not disturb him. When she had heard his little speech she would not say that--and here, suddenly, he knew how deeply, in his heart, he trusted her. But what if, after all, it should be a lie on the old lady's part? Was he not doing wrong to take things so far without a question to anyone else, Christopher or Lizzie Rand? But this was Roddy. Here both his pride and his impatience were concerned. He did not wish that the business should pass beyond its present bounds. He could not go from person to person asking them whether they trusted his wife. And then he could not wait. Here was a plan that killed the danger at one blow, something direct, open, with sharply defined issues. Oh! Rachel should see how he loved her! "All these days," he said to Jacob, "I've been worryin' about her, but I knew--yes, I knew--that she was comin' to me all right." He thought of a day long before and of Miss Nita Raseley and of a meeting in the garden. "I'll show her that I can forgive, too, if it's necessary. Not because I care so little, but, by God, because I care so much. No," he thought, shaking his head over it, "she doesn't love me, not yet. But she's beginnin' to belong to me. She's coming." There was also the thought that the Duchess was an old, sick woman and that the scene might be too much for her strength. "Not she," he grimly decided, "that's the kind of thing she lives on. Anyway, I owe her one. Didn't do her any harm comin' to me the other day, won't do her any harm now. _I_ know her." His scheme must be carried out at once. He felt that he could not wait a moment. He would have liked to have had them all there, before him, to-night. "Why, by this time to-morrow, old boy, it will all be straight. Thank God, my brain cleared, in spite of this damn weather." He rang the bell and Peters, large, solemn, but bending a loving eye upon his master, appeared. "Writing things, Peters." He wrote swiftly two notes. "Very close to-night, sir." "Yes, Peters, very." "You're looking better, sir ... less tired. Your dinner will be up in a quarter of an hour. Nice omelette, nice little bird, nice fruit salad, sardines on toast." "Thank you, Peters, I'm hungry as--as anything." "Very glad to hear it, sir." "I want these two notes sent by hand instantly, do you see?" "Yes, Sir Rod'rick." "At once." "Yes, Sir Rod'rick." Roddy lay back and surveyed the black sky. "Nasty storm comin' up--look here, Peters, give me that bird book over there. That big one. Thanks." Peters retired. III