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+The Project Gutenberg eBook, The Tree of Knowledge, by Mrs. Baillie
+Reynolds
+
+
+This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with
+almost no restrictions whatsoever.  You may copy it, give it away or
+re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included
+with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org
+
+
+
+
+
+Title: The Tree of Knowledge
+       A Novel
+
+
+Author: Mrs. Baillie Reynolds
+
+
+
+Release Date: April 4, 2012  [eBook #39366]
+
+Language: English
+
+Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1
+
+
+***START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE TREE OF KNOWLEDGE***
+
+
+E-text prepared by Robert Cicconetti, Mary Meehan, and the Online
+Distributed Proofreading Team (http://www.pgdp.net) from page images
+generously made available by Early Canadiana Online
+(http://www.canadiana.org)
+
+
+
+Note: Images of the original pages are available through
+      Early Canadiana Online. See
+      http://eco.canadiana.ca/view/oocihm.12432/
+
+
+
+
+
+THE TREE OF KNOWLEDGE.
+
+A Novel.
+
+by
+
+G. M. ROBINS,
+
+Author of "Keep My Secret," "A False Position," etc.
+
+
+    "What so false as truth is,
+        False to thee?
+    Where the serpent's tooth is,
+        Shun the tree--
+    Where the apple reddens,
+        Never pry--
+    Lest we lose our Edens,
+        Eve and I!"
+
+    _A Woman's Last Word._
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+Montreal:
+John Lovell & Son,
+23 St. Nicholas Street.
+
+Entered according to Act of Parliament in the year 1889, by
+John Lovell & Son, in the office of the Minister of Agriculture
+and Statistics at Ottawa.
+
+
+
+
+THE TREE OF KNOWLEDGE.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER I.
+
+    Where I will heal me of my grievous wound.
+
+    _Mort d'Arthur._
+
+
+Anyone who has read the _Mort d'Arthur_ can hardly fail, if he traverse
+the Combe of Edge in early summer, to be struck by its resemblance to
+the fairy Valley of Avilion.
+
+A spot still by good fortune remote from rail, and therefore lying fresh
+and unsullied between its protecting hills, waiting, like the pearl of
+great price, to reward the eye of the diligent seeker after beauty. It
+seems hard, at first glance, to believe that the rigors of an English
+winter can ever sweep across its sunny uplands.
+
+    "Where falls not rain, nor hail, nor any snow,
+    Nor ever wind blows loudly; but it lies
+    Deep-meadowed, happy, fair with orchard lawns
+    And bowery willows, crowned with summer sea."
+
+As regards the falling of rain and hail, and the buffeting of winds, it
+is to be supposed the place does not, literally speaking, resemble the
+mystic Isle; but it was a fact, as Allonby had just elicited from the
+oldest inhabitant, that snow had only three times lain on the hills
+within his memory.
+
+To the young man himself, as he sat in a patch of shade just outside the
+rural inn, with a tankard of cider in his hand, and his long legs
+extended in an attitude of blissful rest, it seemed as if the remainder
+of the description must be also true.
+
+Up over his head, the sky was blue--how blue! An unseen lark trembled
+somewhere in its depths, and its song dropped earthwards in trills of
+melody.
+
+It was that loveliest season of the English summer which comes before
+the cutting of the grass. All up the sides of the valley the meadows
+were ripe for the scythe; the dark-red spires of the sorrel and the
+white stars of the ox-eye daisy bent softly in the warm south breeze.
+Down below the level of the eye, in the very heart of the Combe, a
+fringe of reeds and little willows marked the lowly course of the
+brook. No one who noted its insignificant proportions would have
+guessed--unless he were a true disciple of Isaak Walton--what plump
+trout glided over its clear gravel bed.
+
+In the fine pasturage of the glebe meadows, the red-brown cows were
+gathered under a tree, out of the hot sparkle of the sun. The orchards
+had lost their bewildering glory of bloom, except just here and there,
+where a late apple-tree shoot was still decorated with coral-tinted
+wreath.
+
+And beyond the orchards was the crown of summer sea--
+
+    "The liquid azure bloom of a crescent of sea,
+    The silent sapphire-spangled marriage-ring of the land,"
+
+thought Allonby, who was altogether in a Tennysonian frame of mind that
+morning. He could not help it. The fresh loveliness of his surroundings
+impressed him with a dreamy delight, and he loved nothing so well as the
+luxury of yielding to his impressions. He was filled with a blending of
+indescribable emotions, longings, desires; wondering how anyone managed
+to live in London and yet retain any powers of mind and thought.
+
+"I have been here two days," he sighed, "and my range of ideas is
+stretching, stretching, like the handkerchief in the fairy-tale which
+stretched into a gown. My horizon is widening, my standard of perfection
+is rising; I shall either die, if it goes on much longer, or become a
+totally different person. Farewell, my old self, with your trivial
+daubs, your dingy studio, your faded London models. Let us go in for the
+shearing of sheep under burning skies, for moon-rise on the waters of an
+endless sea, for the white, dusty perspective of the village street, or
+for Mary, the maid of the inn!"
+
+Mr. Allonby, as will have been gathered from this fragment, was not a
+strikingly coherent thinker; but to-day he was certainly more
+wool-gathering than usual, and he had not even strength to be angry with
+himself for the same.
+
+"Temperament," he went on, lazily "national temperament, is entirely
+the result of climatic influence. I fancy I've heard that sentiment
+before--I have a dim idea that I have heard it frequently; but I have
+never till this moment realised it thoroughly. I now give it the
+sanction of my unqualified assent. They say of us, that no Englishman
+understands how to _fl�ner_. How the devil could anyone _fl�ner_ in the
+shades of a London fog? Is east wind conducive to lounging in the
+centres of squares? or a ceaseless downpour the best accompaniment to a
+meal taken out of doors? No, indeed! Give me only a landscape like the
+present, and six weeks of days such as this, and I will undertake to
+rival the veriest _fl�neur_ that ever strolled in a Neapolitan market.
+How sweet-tempered I should grow, too! Even now I recall, dimly as in a
+dream, the herds of cross and disagreeable people who struggle into
+omnibuses at Piccadilly Circus. Why, oh, why do they do it? Do they
+really imagine it worth the trouble? Why don't they tear off their
+mittens and mackintoshes, fling away their tall hats, their parcels,
+their gamps, and make one simultaneous rush for the Island Valley of
+Avilion?"
+
+And, as he thus mused, arose straightway before his imagination--which
+was keen--a vision of such a crowd as emanates, on a wet night, from a
+Metropolitan railway-station--of such a crowd pouring from an imaginary
+terminus, and flocking down that poetic village street, inundating the
+grass-grown curve of beach in the bay, swarming in a black herd up the
+warm red sides of the peaceful cliff.
+
+"Jove!" he ejaculated, under his breath, "how they would spoil the
+place!"
+
+And he checked his philanthropic desire that all his fellow Londoners
+should come to learn lounging in this ideal village. His beatific
+musings were broken into by the appearance of the inn-keeper's young
+daughter, "Mary, the maid of the inn," as he had named her, though her
+parents had christened her Sarah.
+
+She came walking awkwardly through the cool dark passage, and poked her
+pretty, tow-colored head round the doorway, to obtain a side scrutiny of
+her father's guest, who was an object of great interest to her.
+
+"Me mother said I was t'ask yer if yer was goin' to get your dinner
+aout, same as yesterday, or if yer'd get yer dinner here to-day?"
+
+This question brought Allonby's thoughts home to a sense of forgotten
+duty. The spot he had yesterday selected, whence to paint his projected
+picture, was a mile along the valley, and the day was passing; so far he
+had been conspicuously successful in his efforts to become a lounger.
+
+"I wonder if your mother would tie me up some dinner in a handkerchief?"
+said he. "I had none yesterday, because it was too far to come back."
+
+Then, as the girl disappeared, he rose, stretched, and told himself that
+he was a fool to have put off his tramp till the hottest hour of the
+day, when it would be quite impossible to get an inch of shade, either
+side of the way.
+
+However, he had come to Edge Combe brimful of good resolutions, and he
+meant at least to try to keep them, in spite of the strange fermentation
+which seemed to be taking place in his brain. As he shouldered his
+camp-stool and other paraphernalia, it occurred to him to bestow a
+smiling pity on a poor fool who could allow all his ideas of life to be
+revolutionized by a sudden plunge from London dirt and heat into the
+glamor of a Devonshire summer.
+
+"However," he reflected, "it won't last. I've been overturned in this
+way before. Look what an ass I made of myself in Maremma! It doesn't
+increase one's self-respect to recall these things. But after all,
+either I am a singularly unappreciative person, or my insular prejudices
+are very strong, or--I like best to imagine this third--there is a
+something in the fickle beauty of an English summer which surpasses even
+Italy. I don't think anything there ever moved me quite as the Valley of
+Avilion does. There is something so pure, so wholesome, in this
+sea-scented, warm air. There is no treachery, no malaria lurking under
+the loveliest bits of foliage--no mosquitoes either," he suddenly
+concluded, somewhat prosaically, as he lifted his soft cloth helmet, and
+wiped his big forehead. "Only one drawback to an English summer," he
+continued, as he started on his way, with his dinner tied up in a blue
+handkerchief and began to tramp, with long strides, along the curve
+road, with its low stone wall, which skirted the deep blue bay. "Only
+one drawback, and that one which enhances its beauty, and makes it all
+the more precious: one is never sure of keeping it for two days
+together. Its uncertainty is its charm."
+
+He paused and keenly surveyed the purple and hazy horizon. No signs, as
+yet, of the weather breaking; all was fair, and all was very, very hot.
+He rested his dinner on a stone, and again passed his handkerchief over
+his brow. The swish, swish of the scythes in the long grass made him
+glance up. The mowers were mowing the steep hill to his right, and the
+long sweep of their muscular arms was fine to see, as they advanced,
+step by step, in regular order, the fragrant crop falling prostrate in
+their path.
+
+"It's a grand day!" cried Allonby, in the joy of his heart.
+
+"Ay, sir, and it'll be a grand week. We'll d� all we've got to d� before
+the rain comes."
+
+This was said with a cheery authority which gladdened Allonby afresh,
+and seemed to put a final touch to his riotous delight. Scarcely a
+moment before he had affirmed that the uncertainty of the weather was
+what pleased him; but the dictum of this rural prophet was none the less
+encouraging and reassuring.
+
+Just beyond the mowers, under a clump of very fine ash-trees, stood the
+forge, and in its shadow the furnace roared, and the sparks leaped out.
+The young man must needs pause here again to enjoy the contrast of the
+fierce dark fire on the one side, and on the other the musical trickle
+of a limpid rill of water, which fell from a spout, and dropped into a
+roughly hewn stone basin, shooting and sparkling in the light.
+
+As he stood, absorbed in gazing, the shrill call of some bird came
+clearly to his ear, and made him glance up. He was standing at the foot
+of a very steep hill thickly grown with trees, and high up, between the
+leaves, he could descry peeps of a long white house, and a sunny
+terrace, blazing with geraniums. His keen eyes noticed at once a big
+brass cage wherein doubtless a cockatoo was enjoying the sunshine, and
+then he saw a little lady in white come slowly along, with a wide black
+straw hat to shield her from the sun. He was far-sighted enough to know
+that the little lady was middle-aged and wore spectacles, but she had a
+sweet and pleasant countenance, and at once Allonby longed to know what
+favored mortal this was who made her home in Avilion.
+
+How lovely was that sunny terrace! How soothing the cry of that unseen
+bird! What a lovely wicker-chair that was which stood so invitingly
+just in the shadow of the porch! A great longing to enter these
+precincts, to penetrate into the mysteries of that dusky, cool interior,
+took possession of him, and he had gazed for many minutes before it
+occurred to him that he must present something the appearance of a
+little street urchin, flattening his nose against a confectioner's
+window.
+
+Turning sharply, he saw that the grimy smith, with his blue eyes looking
+oddly from his blackened face, was standing at the door of the smithy,
+regarding him with much curiosity.
+
+"Good morning," said Allonby. "That's a pretty house up the hill there.
+Who lives in it?"
+
+"The Miss Willoughbys," was the answer. "It's the only big house in the
+village, sir."
+
+Allonby breathed freely. He had dreaded lest he should receive for
+answer that Mr. Stokes the tanner, or Noakes the varnish-maker, dwelt in
+that poetic house; but no! All was in keeping with the valley of
+Avilion. The Misses Willoughby! He said to himself that the name might
+have been made on purpose.
+
+With a strong effort he tore himself away, and continued his tramp in
+the broiling sun, and still, as he went up the valley, between the steep
+banks of harts-tongue, over the musical brooks, he could hear the hot
+and sleepy cries of the bird on the terrace growing ever fainter and
+fainter.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER II.
+
+    Let no maiden think, however fair,
+    She is not fairer in new clothes than old.
+
+    TENNYSON.
+
+
+Miss Fanny Willoughby, when the unseen Allonby saw her pass on the
+terrace, had just come from feeding her fowls. The poultry-yard was
+quite a feature at Edge, as the house was always called for brevity's
+sake, though its full name was Edge Willoughby. This year had been a
+very fortunate one for Miss Fanny's pigeons, and her mind was full of
+happy and contented thoughts as she carried back her empty tin dishes
+and deposited them carefully, along with her gardening gloves, in the
+little room known as the gardening-room.
+
+Beside her walked the very bird whose call had attracted the artist's
+attention. Jacky was a Cornish chough, coal-black in plumage, with
+brilliant orange-tinted beak. He strutted along sideways and with great
+dignity, casting looks of exultant triumph at the imprisoned cockatoo,
+who was his sworn foe. Puck, the stout and overfed terrier, solemnly
+accompanied them, as was his invariable habit, walking very close to the
+neat box-border, and now and then sniffing at the glowing geraniums.
+
+"Dear me!" said Miss Fanny, "how warm it is--quite oppressive."
+
+She would not for worlds have said that it was hot, but her dear little
+face was pink with her exertions, and her small plump hands so moist
+that to pull off the gloves was quite a business.
+
+The sound of a piano was loudly audible--a jingly piano, very much out
+of tune, up and down which scales were being rattled lightly and evenly.
+
+"I really think I shall tell the child not to practise any more," said
+Miss Fanny. "Charlotte is certainly a trifle exacting this warm
+weather."
+
+So saying, she opened a door to her right, and entered a room which was
+evidently sacred to the purposes of education--the education of a former
+day. A reclining-board and two large globes were its principal features.
+The book-shelves were stocked with such works as "Mangnall's Questions,"
+"Child's Guide," "Mrs. Markham's England," and the like. On the square
+table in the window was a slate full of sums, and what used to be known
+as a "copy slip"--bearing a statement of doubtful veracity:
+
+    "Truth is better than flattery."
+
+This sentence comprised exactly the system on which Elaine Brabourne's
+aunts had brought her up.
+
+They loved her very dearly, but they would have thought it a criminal
+weakness to tell her so. They acted always on that strange system which
+was in vogue when they were young--namely, that you always would be
+naughty if you could, and that the only thing to keep you under was a
+constant atmosphere of repression. If you learned your lesson, you were
+given to understand that the fact was due to the excellence of the
+manner in which you were taught--not to any effort of your own. If you
+did not learn it, you were conscious that this deficiency on your part
+was only to be expected from one who habitually made so small a use of
+such exceptional advantages. You were never encouraged to form an
+opinion of your own. It was an understood thing that you accepted that
+of your elders. For example: "A plate basket," said Miss Charlotte,
+"should always be kept in the parlor closet;" and her niece Elaine would
+have regarded the woman who ventured to keep hers elsewhere as out of
+the pale of civilization.
+
+This plan of education had answered very well for the Misses Willoughby,
+whose lives had been peaceful and secluded as modern lives rarely are,
+and who passed their days always in the same place, and in nobody's
+society but their own. Their delightful unanimity of opinion was the
+great bond of peace between them; but they had never reflected that
+Elaine Brabourne could not pass her life in Avilion as they had done,
+nor paused to consider what would be the result when this girl, who had
+never been allowed to think for herself, even in such a matter as the
+color of her gowns, should be suddenly precipitated into London life as
+the eldest daughter of a rich man.
+
+Elaine did not cease her scales, nor look round as her aunt entered. The
+metronome's loud ticks were in her ear, and she dared not halt; but
+sweet-tempered little Miss Fanny crossed the room with light step, and
+stopped the instrument of torture with a smile.
+
+"Oh, Aunt Fanny! Aunt Char said I was to play scales for an hour!"
+
+"My dear, it is so excessively warm," said Miss Fanny, apologetically,
+"I feel sure you should lie down till the luncheon-bell rings. It is
+really quite exceptional weather; I am so glad for the hay-makers."
+
+Elaine, like a machine, had busied herself in closing the piano and
+putting away her music. Now she rose, and followed her aunt to the table
+by the window.
+
+She was such a very odd mixture of what was pleasing and what was not,
+that it was hard to say what was the impression she first conveyed.
+
+She was a head taller than her aunt, and looked like an overgrown child.
+She wore a hideous green and white cotton frock, and a black holland
+apron. The frock had shrunk above her ankles, and was an agonising
+misfit. Of the said ankles it was impossible to judge, for their
+proportions were shrouded in white cotton stockings and cashmere boots
+without heels.
+
+She was quite a blonde, and her hair was abundant. It was combed back
+very tightly from a rather high forehead, plaited and coiled in a lump
+behind, which lump, in profile, stuck straight out from the head.
+
+The eye seemed to take in and absorb these details before one realised
+the brilliancy of the complexion, the delicate outline of the short
+nose, the fine grey eyes, perhaps a shade too light in color, but
+relieved by heavy dark lashes, and the almost faultless curve of the
+upper lip.
+
+Such was Miss Brabourne at nineteen. A child, with a mind utterly
+unformed, and a person to match. The dull expression of the pretty face
+when at rest was quite noticeable. It looked as if the girl had no
+thoughts; and this was sometimes varied by a look of discontent, which
+was anything but an improvement. She felt, vaguely, that she was dull;
+and that her life bored her; but her mind had not been trained enough to
+enable her to realise anything.
+
+She had read astonishingly little. There was a deeply-rooted conviction
+in the minds of her aunts Fanny, Charlotte and Emily that reading was a
+waste of time,--except it were history, read aloud.
+
+It was hard to see wherein the great charm of this reading aloud lay; it
+had sometimes occurred to Elaine to wonder why she was made to read
+"Markham's France" aloud to her aunts by the hour together, yet, if
+found perusing the same book to herself in the corner, it was taken
+away, and she was told to "get her mending."
+
+She did not care conspicuously for reading. She did not care for
+anything much, so far as she knew. The only thing which evoked any warm
+interest was music, and the one piece of restraint which she deeply
+resented was the being forbidden to play on the beautiful grand piano in
+the drawing-room. It never occurred to her aunts for a moment that their
+pupil could play far better than her teachers; it never dawned upon them
+that she was fifty times more able to do justice to the grand piano than
+they were. Elaine was the child--under their authority. It stood to
+reason that she must not play on the best piano, any more than she might
+loll in arm-chairs, stand on the hearthrug, or go up and down the front
+staircase. And so, at an age when most girls are going out to balls,
+admiring and being admired, Elaine was playing her scales, getting up at
+half-past six, going to bed at half-past nine, not happy, but quite
+ignorant of what she needed to make her so.
+
+There was one aunt who did not quite agree with the plans adopted for
+their niece's education, but she was far too gentle to tell her sisters
+so. This was Aunt Ellen, the eldest, and Elaine's god-mother.
+
+She was far the most intellectual of the four sisters, but had resigned
+any active part in her god-daughter's education because of her
+ill-health. She reserved to herself the task of amusing the child, and
+this she wished to do by teaching her fancy-work, and occupations for
+the fingers. But if there was one thing Elaine disliked, it was
+fancy-work, or occupation of any sort for the fingers. In fact, it
+puzzled them to know what she did like, though it never occurred to them
+to think how narrow was their range of interests--so narrow as to make
+it quite likely that the girl might have a thousand, and they not
+discover them. Miss Ellen was a great reader, and would have dearly
+liked Elaine to read the books she read; but out of deference
+to her sisters' theories she lent her only such books as they
+approved--memoirs, essays and biographies; and Elaine hated memoirs,
+essays and biographies.
+
+She did not decline to read them, any more than she declined to do
+fancy-work--she was too well-trained for that. Her individuality was not
+powerful enough to resist that of her aunts, three of whom were women of
+strong character, accustomed to be obeyed. And so the days went on, and
+she passed from child to woman, no one but Aunt Ellen being aware of the
+fact; and Ellen Willoughby dreaded unspeakably the day, which she felt
+certain must come soon, when the girl would awake to all the
+possibilities of life, and find her present existence intolerable.
+
+It might have been a presentiment which made her mind so full of this
+thought on this hot, beautiful summer's day, when she lay on her low
+couch beside the great window, gazing out at the glowing valley, and
+watching the shadows change as the sun slowly advanced.
+
+Presently there was a tap at the door, and Elaine came in. She brought
+fresh roses for the invalid's glasses, and, as she crossed the room, her
+godmother watched her keenly. The girl shut the door quietly and crossed
+the carpet, neither stamping nor scuffling. Her manners had been well
+attended to, but as she advanced it struck Miss Willoughby that her step
+lacked the elasticity which one associates with youth; she thought at
+that moment she would have preferred to see Elaine hurl herself into the
+room, and skip and dance for joy of the beautiful weather.
+
+The niece kissed her aunt in her usual methodical fashion, and then,
+fetching the vases, began the duty of putting fresh flowers and water,
+much as she would have begun to fold a hem or stitch a seam. This done,
+she sat still for some few minutes, thinking apparently of nothing, and
+with her dull, handsome eyes fixed on the distance.
+
+At last she said:
+
+"Martha's field is being cut to-day, and they say, if we get some rain
+by-and-by, there ought to be a fine aftermath."
+
+"Dear me! Martha's field being cut already! How the years fly!" said
+Miss Ellen, with a sigh.
+
+"Oh, do you think so? I think they drag," said Elaine, rather suddenly;
+and then repeated, as if to herself, "They drag for me."
+
+Miss Willoughby felt for the girl, but her sense of what was fitting
+compelled her to utter a platitude.
+
+"Time always passes more slowly for the young," she said. "When you are
+my age--"
+
+"That will be in twenty-two years," said Elaine.
+
+She said no more, but somehow her tone implied that she did not wish to
+live twenty-two years, and to the elder woman it sounded very sad.
+
+She looked wistfully at her niece, wondering if it would be possible to
+get her sisters to see that some amusement beyond the annual
+school-feast and tea at one or two farmhouses was necessary for the
+young.
+
+She longed to say that youth seemed so long because of the varied
+emotions and experiences crowded into it--emotions which were lifelong,
+minutes of revelation which seemed like years, hours in which one lived
+an age. But she knew Charlotte would feel it most unfitting to talk of
+emotions to a child, and dimly she began to feel sure that Charlotte
+must be wrong, or that somebody was wrong, that Elaine's was not a happy
+nor a normal state of girlhood.
+
+Just then Miss Emily Willoughby entered the room. She was the youngest
+of the four, and rather handsome, though her style of hair was
+unbecoming, and her dress an atrocity.
+
+"Is Elaine here? Oh, yes, I see she is. Elaine, Jane is ready for your
+walk, and I should like you to go along the valley to Poole, and tell
+Mrs. Battishill to send up twenty pounds of strawberries for preserving,
+as soon as they are ripe."
+
+Elaine rose, with a face expressing neither displeasure nor distaste.
+She merely said, "Yes, Aunt Emily;" and, taking up her tray of dead
+flowers, left the room and closed the door behind her.
+
+Miss Ellen's eyes followed her anxiously, and, as the footsteps died
+away along the passage, she lay back among her cushions and a slight
+flush rose in her white face.
+
+"Emily," she said, "I should like to have a little talk with you."
+
+"That is just what I have come up for," said her sister, seating herself
+in Elaine's vacated chair, and taking out her knitting. "About this work
+from Helbronner's, isn't it? Well, my dear, we have just been discussing
+it among ourselves, and have come to the conclusion to send back the
+design. It will not do, my dear Ellen, as I know you will agree. It
+would be considered quite Popish by the villagers, and, as Mr. Hill
+would not like to object to it if it were our work, it would be placing
+him in a _most_ awkward position."
+
+Miss Ellen fixed her soft, questioning eyes on her sister's face, but
+soon removed them, with a sigh of resignation. Emily's mind was full of
+the design for the new altar-cloth, and it would be useless at such a
+moment to appeal to her on the subject of her niece's future. She could
+but lie still and hear the pros and cons respecting a design of cross
+intertwined with lilies, which design Miss Emily, for some inscrutable
+reason, seemed to consider appropriate only to the Church of Rome.
+Presently, through the open window could be heard Elaine and the maid
+setting out for their walk, and again Miss Willoughby caught herself
+wishing that the girl's footfall had had more of girlish buoyancy about
+it.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER III.
+
+    The champaign, with its endless fleece
+    Of feathery grasses everywhere!
+    Silence and passion, joy and peace,
+    An everlasting wash of air.
+
+    BROWNING.
+
+
+Elaine Brabourne's feelings, as she went up the Combe, along the path
+which Allonby had trod before her, were about as different from his as
+anything that could possibly be imagined. She was not thinking much of
+anything in particular, but her predominant sensation was annoyance and
+resentment that her aunt should send her all the way to Poole on such a
+hot afternoon.
+
+It was about a quarter-past four, and the sunbeams were beginning to
+take that rich golden tinge which tells that the middle day--the "white
+light" so worshipped by Constable--is past. Tea at six and light supper
+at nine was the rule at Edge Willoughby, and so Elaine always went for a
+walk at four o'clock in the summer-time--at which hour her aunts
+affirmed "the great heat of the day to be past."
+
+The girl had never in her life been for a walk by herself. Jane had been
+her companion for the last fifteen years, and Jane's legs preferred an
+equable and leisurely method of progression along a good road, with, if
+possible, some such goal as Mrs. Battishill's farm, and a prospect of
+new milk, or perhaps junket. Consequently, country-bred though she was,
+Elaine was almost a stranger to rambles and scrambles up the cliff, to
+running races, scaling precipices, bird's-nesting, or any of those
+pursuits which usually come as naturally to the girl as to the boy who
+is reared "far from the maddening crowd."
+
+Had she had a companion to suggest such sports, they would have been
+delightful to her; but hers was eminently an imitative and not an
+original mind, so she walked along passively at Jane's side, letting the
+parasol, which had been given her to protect her complexion, drag behind
+her, its point making a continuous trail in the white dust.
+
+She was walking through a scene of beauty such as might have moved a far
+less emotional temperament than Allonby's. Behind her back were the
+waters of the bay, one sheet of flame in the vivid light, while here and
+there gleamed the sails of some proud ship steaming slowly down the
+Channel. The road she was treading ran along the western side of the
+valley; to her right all was deep, mysterious shadow, and beyond it the
+lofty swell of the more easterly of the two hills which bounded Edge
+Combe. High on the side of the Copping, as this eastern hill was called,
+was the long white front of Edge Willoughby, and a full view of the
+terrace glowing with its crimson and scarlet glory of climbing
+geraniums.
+
+Every gateway that they passed disclosed a wealth of luxuriant grass,
+almost as tall as Elaine herself, ready and waiting for the mower's
+hand. The white butterflies flew here and there, dancing with glee. The
+sunshine, striking through the larch plantation on the left, flung bars
+of light and shadow across the road; and under the trees the fern-fronds
+were rearing their lovely heads, uncurling in crown-like grace and
+beauty.
+
+All so still; nothing but the sleepy, hushed murmur which comes from
+nowhere and yet fills the air of a summer's day. In the silence the call
+of the chough on the terrace could be distinctly heard right across the
+combe.
+
+"Hark at Jacky!" said Elaine, with a little laugh. She rested her arms
+on the stile, and gazed away over the laughing meadow at the terrace. "I
+can see Aunt Ellen's head at the window," said she, "and here comes Aunt
+Char with a watering-pot. I hope she won't forget to water my
+nasturtiums just around the corner. Do you know I've got one of those
+new coral-colored ones, Jane?"
+
+"If we don't push on, miss, we'll not get to Poole and back before tea,"
+was Jane's remark.
+
+"I do think it's a shame to send me all the way to Poole such a day as
+this," sighed the girl, as she reluctantly rose and continued her way.
+
+She did not care in the least for the beautiful landscape. Its monotony
+was thoroughly distasteful to her. What mattered it whether beautiful or
+not, so long as it never changed? Variety was the need of her young
+life: something fresh--something different. Had she come upon a cargo of
+bricks and mortar, and workmen hacking down the finest trees in order
+to erect a villa, the sight would have afforded her the liveliest
+relief.
+
+Presently they left the high-road, and crossed a bit of furzy
+common--just a small piece of waste ground, with the water lying in
+picturesque pools and clumps of starry yellow blossoms brightening the
+sandy soil.
+
+As they passed along this marshy tract, Elaine raised her eyes to the
+road they had just quitted, which now ran along to their left, rather
+above the level on which they were walking; and she saw something which
+made her stop stone still and gaze round-eyed up at the road in a
+fashion which Jane could not understand till her own eyes followed the
+direction of her young mistress'. Then she beheld what was sufficiently
+unusual amply to justify the girl's surprise.
+
+A broad back, covered with a light tweed coat, a soft, shapeless felt
+hat, two unmistakably masculine legs appearing on the further side of a
+camp stool:--a folding easel, bearing a canvas of fair dimensions, and a
+palette splotched thickly with color. The painter's back was towards
+them. His point of view lay inland, up the valley, and took in a corner
+of Poole farmhouse, and the grove of ash-trees behind it.
+
+It may at first sound somewhat contradictory that an artist should be
+such a _rara avis_ in so beautiful a spot as Edge Combe. But it is,
+nevertheless, true, and this for two good reasons. Firstly, the place is
+quite out of the beat of the usual Devonshire tourist. It is nowhere
+near Lynton, nor Clovelly, nor the Dart, nor Kingsbridge. No railway
+comes within five miles of it, and very few people have ever heard its
+name. Secondly, many landscape artists are dispirited by the cruel
+difficulty of getting a foreground. It is embarrassing to paint with the
+ground descending sheer away from your very feet, so as merely to
+present to you the summits of several trees, and the tip of a church
+spire in violent perspective. Equally inconvenient is it to take your
+seat at the foot of a steep hill, with intention to paint the side
+thereof. And so, as level ground there is none, the artists at Edge
+Combe are limited to those who, like Allonby, fall so headlong in love
+with the place that they make up their minds to paint somewhere,
+regardless of difficulties. Again it may be added that there is no bold
+coast-line at Edge Combe, no precipitous granite rocks, with white
+breakers foaming at their base, no mysterious chasms or sea-caves,--all
+is gentle and smiling. The cliffs are white chalk, riddled with gulls'
+nests, or warm red-brown crumbling sand-stone. The blackberries ripen at
+their sunny summits, the park-like trees curve over almost to the
+water's brim; and the only danger attaching to these cliffs is their
+habit of now and again quietly subsiding, breaking away and falling into
+the sea without the slightest warning.
+
+Allonby had chosen his painting-ground with rare felicity, and had, as
+was his wont, gently congratulated himself on the pleasing fact. Elaine
+longed, with a longing which was quite a novel emotion, to be near
+enough to see what he was doing.
+
+He was not painting, at this moment, but sitting idly, leaning his head
+on his hand.
+
+Oh, if he would but turn round and look at her! The usually dull grey
+eyes gathered a strange intensity; even Jane, as she looked at the girl,
+noticed her odd expression, and was rendered vaguely uneasy by it.
+
+"Come on, miss," said she.
+
+"Oh, but, Jane--he is painting--see! He looks like a gentleman. I wonder
+who he is!"
+
+"I heard Hutchins say there was a gentleman staying at the Fountain
+Head. That might be him," said Jane.
+
+"I daresay. Most likely. I wonder what his name is?"
+
+"I don't see it matters to you, miss. You don't know him, nor your aunts
+don't know him, and if we loiter like this we'll not get home afore the
+dumpsie" (twilight).
+
+Elaine reluctantly tore away her feet, which seemed rooted to that
+charmed spot. Her thoughts were not coherent--they were hardly thoughts
+at all, but there was a sudden passionate wish that she were a man, and
+free. It was no good to grow up if you were only a girl. She was
+nineteen, and had no more liberty than when she was nine. Oh, to be able
+to travel about alone, to stay at an inn, to go from one part of England
+to another, with no one to ask the why and wherefore of your actions!
+She looked almost with hatred at Jane's homely, well-known features. Why
+must she always have a Jane at her elbow?
+
+The evil hour to which Miss Ellen looked forward with mournful prophecy
+was hard at hand.
+
+"Well, now, I d� say that it's nice to see you, Miss Ullin," said Mrs.
+Battishill, with delight. "And Jane t�! Come along in out of the
+heat--come into the rh�me. Is all the ladies well? How d� they like this
+weatherr, and how d� like it yourself, Miss Ullin, my dearr?"
+
+The Devonshire dialect was one of Allonby's keenest sources of delight,
+particularly the soft liquid French sound of the _u_, contrasting with
+the rough burr of the _r_. On Elaine it produced absolutely no effect
+whatever; she had heard it all her life. Her idea of bliss would be to
+hear something completely different. She went mechanically into Mrs.
+Battishill's best parlor, neat and clean as a new pin, but with the
+strange stuffiness which comes of never opening the windows.
+
+She ate the cakes provided, and drank the milk with healthy girlish
+appetite; but her thoughts were centred on the artist in the lane, and
+she did not hear a word that Jane and the farmer's wife were saying.
+
+Jane was admiring a large fine silver cup gained by Mr. Battishill at
+the last agricultural show for the best cultivated farm of more than a
+hundred acres. This prize was offered every year to his tenantry by Sir
+Matthew Scone, who owned nearly all the surrounding country.
+
+"Yes, it's a fine coop," said Mrs. Battishill, with pride. "I shown it
+yesterrday to a young fellow who's making a picturre out there in the
+lane, and coom oop to the farrm for a drink o' milk."
+
+These words suddenly fixed Elaine's attention.
+
+"He's painting out there now," said Jane, with interest; "we see him as
+we came threw the waste."
+
+"I dessay you will have," returned Mrs. Battishill, benevolently. "I
+showed him all over the hoose, and he was that taken oop with it. He
+said he never see such a queer place in his life. He didn't seem half a
+bad chap, to me," she was kind enough to add.
+
+Poole Farm had never before presented itself to Elaine in such a
+pleasant light. It was most certainly a very queer house, for it was
+built right against the side of a hill, so that you could walk in at the
+front door, ascend two or three flights of stairs, and then walk out of
+a door at the back, and find yourself unexpectedly on _terra firma_. It
+had never occurred, to the girl till to-day that this eccentricity was
+attractive; but now the house, the farmer's wife, the whole surrounding
+landscape seemed to borrow new dignity from the potent fact of this
+unknown artist having admired them.
+
+She did not join in the conversation, but listened with feverish
+interest as Jane asked if Mrs. Battishill knew his name.
+
+No, she had not asked it. He had said he was staying at the "Fountain
+Head," and, when she asked him how long he meant to stay in these parts,
+he laughed and answered "as long as the fine weather lasts."
+
+"Eh, well, we'll hope the rain'll hold off till he's done his picture,"
+said Jane, as she rose to take her leave.
+
+The farmer's wife protested against such a short visit, but Jane
+reminded her that tea at Edge was at six o'clock, and that they were
+bound to be home in good time; and so they started out again into the
+golden evening, where a circle of rose-color was just beginning to rim
+the intense blue of the pure sky.
+
+When they had shut the wicket-gate, and crossed the brook by the
+miniature bridge of three crazy planks, Elaine took her courage in both
+hands and ventured a petition.
+
+"Jane," said she, "don't go across the waste. Let us go home by the
+road; it will be--a change."
+
+As she spoke, she turned crimson, and almost despaired, for it was a
+longer way to go home by the road.
+
+Jane guessed with perfect accuracy the thoughts which were busy in her
+young mistress' mind; but she herself was a true daughter of Eve, and
+she wished to go home by the road as much as ever Elaine could do. She
+just sent one keen look at the girl's flushed face, and then said:
+
+"It was more than a bit boggy across the waste; you'll get home dry-shod
+if we go the other way."
+
+So these two dissemblers, neither of whom would own her secret motive,
+turned into the road, and walked along until a sudden bend in it brought
+them in sight of the artist's easel, and then Elaine's heart seemed to
+spring up to her throat and choke her, and she cried out, regardless of
+whom might hear,
+
+"Oh, Jane! He's gone!"
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER IV.
+
+    Give her time--on grass and sky
+    Let her gaze, if she be fain:
+    As they looked, ere _he_ drew nigh
+    They will never look again!
+
+    JEAN INGELOW.
+
+
+"Gone!" was Jane's quick response; "but he'd never go and leave his
+picture sticking out there by itself for the first shower to spoil--he
+can't be far off."
+
+For a moment Elaine recoiled, every nerve thrilled with the thought that
+the stranger, concealed in some bush in the immediate vicinity, had
+heard her reckless and incautious exclamation. There was no movement and
+no sound, and, after a pause fraught with more suspense than she could
+remember to have ever felt before, she stepped about two paces forward,
+and took another timid look. Something was lying on the ground near the
+easel--a confused heap of gray, which outlined itself clearly in the
+long rank wayside grass; and for a moment Elaine turned white and looked
+as if she were going to faint; then, no longer hesitating, but urged on
+by a wild impetuosity, she ran to the spot, and stood gazing down at
+Allonby's pallid and stiffened features.
+
+All her life long she would remember that moment--every detail, every
+sensation, stamped on her brain with indelible distinctness. The soft
+whisper of a newly-awakened diminutive breeze in the ash-trees, the
+grass all yellow as corn in the golden evening light, the hot sweet
+perfume that arose from the fragrant hedgerow, and the still hard face,
+bloodless under its newly-acquired bronze. It was death--she was certain
+of it. Death, that mystery in whose existence she had never really
+believed, though she knew, as matter of history, that both her parents
+were dead.
+
+Into the heart of this strange, awful secret she seemed suddenly hurled
+with a force which bewildered her. For a few moments she stood quite
+speechless, swaying to and fro, and seeing through a mist, while Jane,
+with her back towards her, was staring down the lane in hopes of seeing
+the artist reappear.
+
+Allonby had evidently come to the ground with force. His fall had
+crushed the camp stool under him. He had fallen forward, but slightly
+sideways; one arm was flung out under his head, and, owing to this, his
+face was turned upward, leaving clearly visible a livid purple mark on
+the left side of the forehead. The other hand was clenched, and the
+lower limbs slightly contracted, as if from a sudden shock; the eyes
+were closed and the brows drawn together with an expression of pain.
+
+To this girl, who had scarcely in her life come into contact with a
+young man socially her equal, this strange experience was overwhelming.
+A moment she remained, as has been said, trembling and erect; then she
+dropped on her knees in the long grass, and cried out, pierceingly,
+
+"Jane! Jane! come here! What are you doing? He is dead! He is dead!"
+
+Jane turned as if she had been shot.
+
+"Lawk-a-mercy, Miss Elaine," she cried, hurrying to the spot; and then,
+as is the manner of her class, she began to scream, and her shrill cries
+rent the air three or four times in rapid succession. "Oh, good Lord!
+Oh, mercy on me! What can have happened? He's been murdered, sure
+enough! Oh, Miss Elaine, come away! Come away from the corpse, my dear!
+You know your aunts would never hold with your touching a corpse. Oh,
+dearie, dearie, all the years I've lived I never come across such a
+thing! Never!"
+
+"_Murdered!_"
+
+The word dropped from Elaine's trembling lips with a wailing sound. Such
+a thing had never suggested itself to her mind. Probably had she had the
+usual training in the way of sensational novels, had she been accustomed
+to read of crimes and follow up the details of their detection with the
+zest of the true lover of late nineteenth-century romance, the idea of
+murder would have at once occurred to her, and she might have proceeded
+forthwith to search the long grass around for footprints, fragments of
+clothing, or a blood-spattered weapon. But she never once thought of the
+criminal, only of the victim. Neither did it dawn upon her that the
+mysterious danger which had lurked for the artist in that smiling
+landscape might lurk there also for her. She thought of nothing but him:
+that idea swallowed up and eclipsed all others.
+
+Poor Allonby! Barely four hours ago he had rejoiced over the
+straightforward sincerity of the English summer. He had quoted with
+smiling satisfaction the words in which a French writer describes the
+Maremma:
+
+"Cette Maremme fertile et meurtri�re qui en deux ann�es vous enrichit et
+vous tue."
+
+Nothing less murderous could well be imagined than this peaceful
+Devonshire lane. Here were no ghastly exhalations, no venomous reptiles
+to glide through the long flowery grass: an Eden without the snake it
+seemed at first gaze, and yet some unseen malign power had exerted
+itself, and felled the lusty manhood of this young Englishman with a
+blow.
+
+To Elaine, the sight was horror and agony untold; it acted physically on
+her nerves, and produced a dizzy faintness from which it took her
+several moments to recover. Feverishly she laid her hand on that of the
+young man, then on his brow, which was cold and rigid; she recoiled,
+filled with panic, from the touch, and leaped impulsively to her feet.
+
+"Oh, help! Help! Will nobody help? Will nobody hear us if we call?"
+
+"Oh, dear heart, he's bleeding under his coat here somewhere," cried
+Jane, holding out her hand, on which was something wet and glistening.
+
+This sight robbed the girl of whatever nerve she might have possessed,
+and she recoiled with a gasp of terror.
+
+"Stay with him," she cried, frantically, "I will run for help;" and,
+without waiting for reply, she started off to run at her topmost speed,
+feeling only that the one need of her soul at the moment was violent
+action, that something must be done at once.
+
+The emergency, the first emergency of her life, had utterly scared away
+her wits.
+
+She ran blindly, not in the least knowing where she was running--almost
+with an instinct of flight--escape from that terrible cold, still,
+bleeding form among the grass.
+
+She could see his face in fancy as she ran, could remember how a tall
+daisy bent over and touched his brown moustache, and a huge curled
+dock-leaf flung its shadow over his forehead. All so still, so
+stiff--ah! how dreadful it was, dreadful beyond the bounds of belief.
+
+In her dire perplexity, she never once thought of what was the only
+obvious thing to do,--namely, to run to Poole, and tell the Battishills
+to send down some men with a hurdle. She simply tore along the lane like
+a mad thing, never stopping to ask herself what she intended, uttering
+from time to time short sobs of terror and pity.
+
+A little way beyond Poole, the lane joined the high coach-road which
+runs from Stanton to Philmouth; into this road she dashed, and along it
+her flying feet bounded, whither she neither knew nor cared. For the
+first time in her life she was alone--alone and free. She was beyond
+reach of her aunts and Jane, out by herself, alone in the wide road; and
+without her being conscious of the fact, this unwonted loneliness added
+to the terribleness of the situation. She soon lost her ugly hat, with
+its prim bows of drab ribbon edged with black lace; but she never even
+noticed its loss. On, on she flew, till at last the sound of wheels met
+her ear, and her tearful eyes caught sight of a carriage approaching.
+
+It was an open carriage, just large enough for two, very compactly
+built. The man on the box looked like a private servant; within were a
+lady and a gentleman.
+
+It did not matter to Elaine who they were--they might have been the
+Queen and the Prince of Wales for all she cared. Her one idea was that
+she must stop them. She ran pantingly on till the carriage was within a
+few yards of her, and then flung up both her arms, crying,
+
+"Oh, stop, stop! I want to speak to you! Stop!"
+
+The sudden apparition in the lonely road of a tall girl without a hat,
+running as if hunted, was so astonishing, that the coachman reined in
+his horses before he was quite clear of what he was doing, and the lady
+in the carriage leaned forward with an eager expression, hearing the
+cry, but not having clearly descried the speaker.
+
+"What now, Goodman?" she said.
+
+"A young lady, my lady," said Goodman. "Wants to speak to you, my lady,
+I fancy."
+
+"Here, Claud," said the lady, with a laugh, "is your adventure at last!
+Make the most of it."
+
+"This is the third time you have promised me an adventure. If this
+proves to be as futile as the other two, I shall turn it up, and go
+home. I have had too many disappointments--they begin to tell on my
+nerves. Only a girl begging, is it?"
+
+"Hush!" cried Lady Mabel, laughingly holding up a finger to her brother;
+and by this time Elaine, crimson, trembling, on the verge of tears, was
+at the carriage door.
+
+The Honorable Claud Cranmer's eyes fell on the girlish figure, and took
+in everything in an instant. He thought her the most beautiful girl he
+had ever beheld; and beautiful she was in her passion and her
+excitement.
+
+Her hair-pins had all been scattered freely along the road as she
+ran--the huge plait of her deep gold hair hung down her back half
+uncoiled. It had been all loosened by her vehement motion, so that it
+framed her lovely face in picturesque disorder. The most exquisite
+carnation glowed in her transparent skin, crystal tears swam in her
+large eyes, her whole face was alight and quivering with feeling, her
+ivory throat heaved as if it would burst.
+
+Never in his life had he seen anything so totally unconventional, never
+heard anything to equal the music of the broken voice as she gasped out
+the only words that occurred to her--
+
+"Oh, I beg your pardon--do come--I must have help at once!"
+
+"What is it?--something wrong?--an accident?" said Lady Mabel, rapidly,
+in her deep, sympathetic, penetrating voice. In a flash she saw that the
+girl was a lady, and that her tribulation was no acting, but terribly
+sincere. "Try to tell me," she said, laying her hand over the trembling
+one with which Elaine grasped the edge of the carriage.
+
+"A gentleman has been murdered," cried the girl--"he has been murdered,
+there!" waving dramatically with one arm. "He is lying in the grass,
+dying, or dead. Perhaps it is only a faint--Jane is with him--won't you
+come?"
+
+Lady Mabel cast a sweeping glance at her travelling companion, as if to
+ask if here was not his adventure with a vengeance.
+
+"But oh, my dear child, I think and hope you are mistaken," said she.
+"People are not murdered out in the road in broad daylight here in
+England."
+
+"Oh, won't you come?--won't you come? I tell you he is bleeding--I saw
+the blood on Jane's hand!" cried Elaine, with a shudder of irrepressible
+repugnance.
+
+"Let us drive on at once and see to this," said Claud, with sudden
+energy, rising and letting himself out into the road. "I will go on the
+box with Goodman, if this young lady will take my seat--she looks
+fearfully exhausted."
+
+"I have run so fast," said Elaine, with a smile of apology, as, nothing
+loth, she sank into the vacant seat. "Tell him to drive quickly, won't
+you? He must take the first turning to the right."
+
+Mr. Cranmer mounted to the box, and the horses started briskly, Goodman
+being by no means less excited than his master and mistress at this
+novel experience.
+
+The girl leaned back in the carriage and hid her face. The whole of her
+frame was shaking with feeling she could not repress.
+
+Her companion looked at her with eager sympathy, and presently it seemed
+as if the magnetism of her wonderful eyes drew Elaine to look up at her,
+which she did in a timid, appealing way, as if imploring some solution
+of the mysteries of life which were bursting upon her so suddenly.
+
+It was a very remarkable face which bent down to hers--a face not so
+much beautiful as expressive. The features were so strong that they
+would have been masculine but for the eyes--such eyes! Of the darkest
+iron-grey, darkened still more by the blackness of brows and
+lashes--eyes which could flash, and melt, shine with laughter, brim with
+tears--eyes which were never the same two moments together. Their effect
+was heightened by the fact that, though Lady Mabel Wynch-Fr�re was
+certainly not yet forty, her hair was ashen grey, as could be seen under
+her travelling-hat.
+
+She was very small, slender, thin, and active--a person impossible to
+describe--genial, impetuous, yet one with whom no one dared take a
+liberty; a creature of moods and fancies, delighting in the unusual and
+the Quixotic.
+
+To-day's adventure suited her exactly; her eyes were full of such
+unutterable sympathy as she bent them on the frightened girl beside her,
+that whatever secret Elaine might have possessed must infallibly have
+been told to her; but Elaine's life, as we know, possessed no secrets.
+
+"Don't you trouble," said that wonderful vibrating voice, "we shall find
+it not so bad as you think. You have been sadly frightened, but it will
+all come right. Do you live near here?"
+
+"About three miles."
+
+"Will you tell me your name?"
+
+"Elaine Brabourne."
+
+"Mine is Mabel Wynch-Fr�re, and that is my brother, Claud Cranmer."
+
+"Taking my name in vain, Mab?" asked the Honorable Claud, half turning
+round.
+
+"Claud, this young lady's name is Brabourne," said Lady Mabel, in her
+gracious way.
+
+Claud lifted his hat and bowed, as if it were a formal introduction.
+
+"Any relation of poor Val's, I wonder?" he said.
+
+"Who was Val?"
+
+"Colonel of the 102nd before Edward got it."
+
+"Oh, I remember. Are you by chance related to the late Colonel
+Brabourne?"
+
+"He was my father," said Elaine, timidly.
+
+"Oh, ho!--then this is one of the wards in chancery," said Claud, with
+amusement in his eyes. "I beg your pardon, Miss Brabourne, but is it not
+your unenviable lot to be a ward in Chancery?"
+
+But Elaine heeded him not. The carriage had turned swiftly down the
+lane, and she had caught sight of Jane's sunbonnet crouching over that
+motionless figure in the grass. The sound of wheels made Jane look up;
+and it would be beyond the power of any pen to describe the dismay
+depicted in her countenance as the carriage stopped, and she caught
+sight of her young mistress--flushed, dishevelled, her hat gone, and the
+light of a tremendous excitement burning in her eyes.
+
+Mr. Cranmer had opened the door in a moment, and Lady Mabel, in her neat
+little travelling-dress, sprang to the ground as lightly as a girl of
+eighteen, Elaine scrambling awkwardly after her.
+
+"My word!" said Lady Mabel, impetuously, "what can be the meaning of
+this?"
+
+"I don't know who you are, mum," said Jane, bluntly, "but I can tell you
+I'm right glad to see a fellow-creature's face. It's give me such a turn
+as I never had in all my born days, sitting here alone, not knowing any
+minute whether the hand that struck this poor young man mightn't strike
+me next. There's been foul play here, sir, as sure as my name's Jane
+Gollop; and not an hour back he was sitting here a-painting quite quiet
+and happy, for Miss Elaine and me seen him as we went by to the farm."
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER V.
+
+    The past was a sleep, and her life began.
+
+    BROWNING.
+
+
+"Oh, indeed I think you must be mistaken," said Mr. Cranmer. "It can't
+be murder--it must be a sunstroke, or a fit."
+
+"Queer sunstroke, to wait till five o'clock in the evening to strike,
+and queer fit to break a man's arm," said Jane, with some warmth. "I've
+seen apoplexy, sir, and I've seen epilepsy, and I've seen many and many
+a sunstroke; I know 'em when I see 'em. This here isn't nothing of that
+sort."
+
+Claud approached, hastily cramming an eyeglass in one eye, and, stooping
+over the wounded man, without further ado pulled open his flannel shirt
+and laid a hand over his heart. His face grew grave.
+
+"We must have help for him quickly," he said, in an alert, decided tone,
+which did not seem to match his dilletante exterior. "Where is the
+nearest place to run to?"
+
+"Poole is quite close--the farmhouse yonder--I thought Miss Elaine had
+gone there," said Jane.
+
+He just touched the arm which lay powerless, the coat-sleeve soaked in
+blood, and shook his head.
+
+"You're right enough--it's no fit; it's a brutal assault," he said. "A
+robbery, I suppose. I'll run to the farm--who'll show me the way?"
+
+"I--I can run fast!" cried Elaine, who seemed to have pinned her faith
+on Mr. Cranmer.
+
+They scrambled down through the gap in the hedge, and ran breathlessly
+across the Waste. It was hard to believe that the animated, emotional
+creature whose feet seemed to fly over the uneven ground was the same as
+the dull, spiritless girl who had trailed the tip of her parasol along
+unwillingly in the dust such a short time back.
+
+"Do you know the people--at--the--farm?" panted Claud, who was not in
+training.
+
+"Oh, yes. Mind the bog--don't get over the stile, it's broken--come
+through the gap. There's Clara come back from the milking. Clara! Clara!
+call your father, call the men, quick! Something most dreadful has
+happened!"
+
+These ominous words, pronounced at the top of the shrill young voice,
+filled the farmyard as if by magic. The men and girls, the boys, the
+farmer and his wife, all rushed out of doors, and great indeed was their
+astonishment to see Miss Brabourne arrive on the scene with a perfectly
+strange gentleman as her escort. It was well that some one was at hand
+who could tell the story more coherently than poor Elaine, who by this
+time was quite at the end of her powers.
+
+No sooner did Mr. Battishill comprehend what was wanted than his fastest
+horse was saddled and his son was galloping for a doctor, while the
+farm-laborers pulled down a hurdle, and, spreading a blanket over it,
+proceeded briskly to the scene of the disaster, accompanied by the
+farmer himself.
+
+Mrs. Battishill urged Elaine to stay with her, but, though white and
+almost speechless, the girl vehemently refused--she must go back and see
+what had happened.
+
+Claud Cranmer took her hand as if she had been a little girl, and she
+clasped his vehemently with both hers.
+
+"Oh, do you think he will die?" she whispered hoarsely.
+
+"I hope not; he looks a big strong fellow. It will depend, I should
+think, on whether or not his skull is broken. He is not a friend of
+yours, is he?"
+
+"Oh, no, I never saw him in my life before. They say he is staying in
+the village."
+
+"You will be dreadfully tired after this," he said, sympathetically.
+
+"Oh, it, does not matter in the least. I am never tired; I never have
+anything to tire me. You don't really think his skull is broken, do
+you?"
+
+"If the man that struck him could break the bone of his arm in two, I'm
+afraid it looks bad for the poor chap. It's a most ghastly thing, 'pon
+my word. I never heard of such an outrage! Broad daylight in a little
+country place like this! It's horrible to think of."
+
+But he was not thinking wholly of Allonby and his mysterious fate; he
+was marvelling at the utter unconsciousness of the girl who walked
+beside him, her hand confidingly clasped in his. He had never met a girl
+so vilely dressed--never seen even a housemaid who wore such astounding
+boots; but this Miss Brabourne was evidently not in the least aware of
+how far her toilette came short of the requirements of an exacting
+society. In spite of the urgency of the moment, by the time they arrived
+back at the scene of action, he was lost in a speculation as to how long
+it would take this anomaly in the way of girlhood, if suddenly
+transported into the midst of fashionable London, to discover her own
+latent capabilities.
+
+Lady Mabel had not been idle in their absence. She had slit Allonby's
+coat-sleeve, pulled his jointed mahl-stick to pieces, and contrived an
+impromptu splint for the broken arm therewith. She was supporting his
+head in her lap, and bathing it with the contents of her vinaigrette.
+
+The wounded man's eyes were open, and he was moving his head uneasily
+and slowly, groaning deeply every now and then. It was plain that he was
+quite unconscious of his surroundings, and that he suffered much.
+
+Elaine crept up with a fixed stare of wonder, and crouched down on the
+grass near. His eyes fell on her a moment,--they were big, honest, hazel
+eyes,--and the girl shivered and shrank, turning crimson as she met his
+gaze, though it was vacant and wild, and wandered off elsewhere in
+another second.
+
+"Oh, if he would not groan so! Oh, how he suffers; he is going to die,"
+she cried, mournfully.
+
+Jane came up and drew her away, as the men assembled round the prostrate
+figure, and lifted it on to the hurdle, Mr. Cranmer carefully supporting
+the head, which was laid on a soft shawl of Lady Mabel's.
+
+All the sky was scarlet and rose, and all the fields tinged with the
+same hue, as the small procession started to carry the sufferer with as
+little jolting as possible. The sun caught the windows of Poole and made
+them flare like torches.
+
+Among the crushed grass where Allonby had lain was a dark wet stain. How
+sad the easel looked, with its picture just begun! The palette had
+fallen face downwards, the brushes were scattered hither and thither.
+
+Lady Mabel began to collect them, and to pack them into the open
+color-box.
+
+"Come, Miss Elaine, dear, we must run home. Your aunts will be sending
+out to see after us," said Jane, nervously re-tying her bonnet strings.
+
+"I cannot walk a step," said the girl, who was seated on the grass, as
+white as marble. "You must go and tell them so--go and leave me."
+
+"Miss Elaine, my dear!" cried Jane, totally at a loss. Elaine was
+usually perfectly obedient.
+
+"I will drive Miss Brabourne home," said Lady Mabel, coming forward.
+"She is quite over-wrought. I should like to see her aunts, for I am
+nearly sure my husband knew Colonel Brabourne. Claud, what are you going
+to do?"
+
+Her brother jerked his glass suddenly out of his eye and turned towards
+them; he had been apparently contemplating the distance with an
+abstracted air.
+
+"Is there an inn in your village?" he asked of Jane.
+
+"Yes, sir."
+
+"Could we stay the night there?"
+
+"Dear heart, sir, no, this lady couldn't. It's very rough, clean, and
+they're decent folks, but just a village public, sir. This poor young
+man was staying there, they say. I make no doubt but Mrs. Clapp'll be
+wondering after him."
+
+"What do you want to do, Claud?" said his sister.
+
+"I want to investigate this highway robbery a little," he answered. "It
+is interesting to me--very. I should have liked to have Goodman with me;
+so I thought, if there was any accommodation at the village, you might
+drive on, put up, and send Goodman back to rejoin me here."
+
+"And let him find you also lying by the wayside with a broken head?"
+said Lady Mabel.
+
+He smiled.
+
+"Not likely to attempt two such outrages in the same spot, on the same
+evening," he said. "No. I'll tell you what I will do: I must go up to
+the farm and see to this poor fellow. He may have friends who should be
+telegraphed to. I'll get a bed here for the night, if you will give me
+my bag out of the carriage; you must drive through the village, stop at
+the inn to let the good folks know what has become of their lodger, and
+then on to the Stanton hotel as we planned. The farmer shall lend me a
+trap to-morrow, and I'll join you."
+
+"You think of everything," said his sister, admiringly, "but, Claud, I
+wonder if these people know anything of nursing--I am so uneasy till the
+doctor has delivered his verdict--is there a nurse in the village that I
+could send up, I wonder?"
+
+"There's a very good nurse in the village," said Jane Gollop, "the
+Misses Willoughby let her have a cottage rent free, and all her milk,
+and eggs, and butter from their own farm. We pass her cottage, if you
+please, 'm."
+
+"Very good. Tell Mrs. Battishill I shall send her up," said Lady Mabel,
+getting into the carriage. "It is so light now, we shall get to Stanton
+before dark, don't you think so, Goodman?"
+
+"Yes, my lady. It's not dark at nine o'clock now."
+
+"No, no. Take care of yourself, Claud."
+
+Her brother nodded, then turned to lift Elaine from the grass, where she
+sat motionless, staring at the road where the lifeless form of Allonby
+had been carried.
+
+"Come," said Mr. Cranmer, gently.
+
+"It's all over now," sighed Elaine.
+
+"What is over?" he asked.
+
+"What happened. Nothing ever happens in Edge Combe. This is the first
+thing that ever happened to me in my life, now it is over."
+
+"Miss Elaine, my dear, don't stay talking," cried Jane, in a fright. She
+thought her charge was light-headed with the excitement she had gone
+through. The girl said no more, but submitted to be put into the
+carriage with Lady Mabel, and sank down with a sigh into the corner,
+turning her face away from that fateful patch of roadside grass. Goodman
+helped Jane gallantly to a seat beside him. Claud lingered, with his
+hands resting on the top of the carriage door, his eyes on Elaine's
+face.
+
+"You do look pale," he said, "a lily maid indeed."
+
+The rich color flew to her face as he had hoped it would, but he could
+see by the look in her eyes that she had not understood his allusion in
+the least.
+
+"Breathes there a girl within the four seas who has not read the Idylls
+of the King?" he pondered, wondering. Then, just as the carriage was
+starting, he cried out,
+
+"Hi! Goodman! One thing more--as you go through the village, send me up
+the constable."
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER VI.
+
+    Too often, clad in radiant vest,
+    Deceitfully goes forth the morn;
+    Too often evening in the west
+    Sinks, smilingly forsworn.
+
+    WORDSWORTH.
+
+
+Claud Cranmer stood still in the road, watching the carriage till it
+disappeared round a bend in the winding way.
+
+Then he turned, and gravely surveyed the scene of action. The hedge on
+one side of the lane--the side on which they had found Allonby--was
+broken and full of gaps. The lane on this side was skirted, first by a
+hay-field, and further on by the piece of ground known as the "Waste,"
+through which, as has been before stated, an oblique footpath led to the
+wicket-gate in Mrs. Battishill's flower-garden.
+
+Persons crossing this Waste were in full view of the windows of Poole.
+The field which adjoined the Waste was to be cut to-morrow. It was full
+of tall rich grass, through which no mortal could have passed without
+leaving most evident traces of his passage behind him.
+
+On the further side of the lane was a very tall, quick-set hedge, thick
+and compact, without a hole or a rent anywhere. Below it was a deep
+ditch, along the brink of which Mr. Cranmer walked, eyeing the long
+grasses and weeds keenly for the smallest trace of trampling or
+disorder.
+
+There was none.
+
+Crossing the road again, he sat down on the stile leading to the Waste,
+and reflected.
+
+Jane and Miss Brabourne had come up the lane from the direction of Edge
+Combe. They had crossed this piece of ground, noticed the artist at
+work, and proceeded to the farm beyond. In about half-an-hour they had
+returned by the road, to find the outrage committed and no traces of the
+robber to be seen.
+
+It appeared unlikely, then, to say the least of it, that this robber
+should have come from the direction of Poole Farm.
+
+Any loitering man would have been noticed by them as they passed; there
+was not a single clump of bush on the Waste large enough to conceal a
+man from the view of anyone crossing by the footpath. It seemed also to
+Mr. Cranmer to be exceedingly improbable that the villain should have
+approached along the road by which the carriage had come--that is to
+say, that he had been walking _towards_ Edge Combe, because the artist
+had been sitting directly facing anyone who came from that direction,
+and must have seen and noticed a passer-by on that lonely road.
+
+Probability then suggested it as most likely that the tramp, or whoever
+it was, who had struck to such purpose, had approached his victim from
+the direction of the village of Edge Combe--had simply walked along the
+lane, come up behind the unsuspecting artist, and without warning
+administered the blow on the head, which was quite enough to leave the
+strongest man helpless in his hands. Of course, it was all mere
+speculation, still, it might afford a clue; for, if a stranger, a tramp,
+or a suspicious-looking person had passed through the village that
+afternoon, he was certain to have been noticed, and probably there were
+several who could identify such a one.
+
+Then, if he had approached along the lane, how had he escaped?
+
+Most probably by simply walking on along the solitary lane till he came
+to the high-road. Here was another negative piece of evidence. If this
+had been his course, he must, when he reached the high-road, have turned
+to the right, towards Stanton, because Lady Mabel and her brother,
+driving from Philmouth, must have met him if he had turned to the left;
+and Mr. Cranmer clearly recollected that they had met no such person.
+
+All this, of course, was very elementary reasoning; because there were a
+thousand places in which a tramp might have concealed himself, out of
+the main road. Yet it appeared to the young man likely that one who
+presumed sufficiently on the isolation of the neighborhood to commit
+such an assault in broad daylight, almost within view of the windows of
+a large farmhouse, would be hardy enough to adopt the course of simply
+walking off down the road after securing his booty,--a far safer plan
+and less likely to attract suspicion than skulking in fields or
+outhouses.
+
+But, altogether, the more he thought of it, the more incredible, the
+more outrageous the whole thing appeared to be.
+
+Surely the artist would not be likely to have enough of value on him
+during a sketching-tour, to make the robbing of him worth such an
+enormous hazard! His costume, as Claud remembered, had been simplicity
+itself--white flannel shirt and trousers, with rough, short grey coat
+and cloth helmet.
+
+He would carry a watch and chain--most likely; a signet ring--very
+probably. About a pound's worth of loose silver; aggregate value of
+entire spoils, perhaps ten pounds, for the watch would be very likely
+silver, or the chain worthless. Could there be more--far more in the
+affair than met the eye? Could this artist be a man who had enemies? Was
+there some wildly sensational tale of hatred and vengeance underlying
+the mysterious circumstances?
+
+Claud pondered, as he raised his neat brown felt hat and wiped his
+forehead. He was overcome with a desire to see and question the victim.
+From him something might be ascertained, at least, of the plan of
+attack.
+
+He set out to walk to Poole Farm, remarking casually to himself, in a
+depressed way, that nature never intended him for a detective.
+
+"But I wonder what a detective would have done under the circumstances?"
+he mused. "I could not observe mysterious footprints in the grass near,
+for Miss Brabourne's well-meaning but clumsy handmaiden had trodden it
+all flat by the time I arrived on the scene. I have examined the road
+and banks for shreds of evidence. I have picked up a hairpin, which I
+have reason to believe is Miss Brabourne's. Ought I to put it in my
+pocket-book to show to the real _bona-fide_ detective when he arrives on
+the scene? It would hardly be of service, I suppose, to preserve any of
+the blood? Ought I to have left the paints and messes in the exact order
+in which they fell, I wonder? It's too late to reflect on that now,
+however," he added, with a glance at the paint-box, which he carried
+strapped up in one hand, the easel being over his shoulder. The
+beautiful calmness of the evening seemed to him horribly at variance
+with the tragedy just enacted. "It's like that funny hymn which little
+Peggy sings,
+
+    'Every prospect pleases, and only man is vile.'
+
+Certainly man in his worst aspect is a contemptible reptile," he sighed,
+as he walked up the little pebble walk, where the wall-flowers drowned
+the air with sweetness.
+
+Inside, in the kitchen, a lively scene presented itself. Mrs.
+Battishill, having deposited the sick man in bed, had just come down for
+towels and hot water, and was flying from linen-press to boiler-tap with
+a volley of words and some agitation. Her daughter Clara, a slight,
+delicate girl who would have been pretty had she not attempted to be
+fashionable, wearing steels in her dress, and a large imitation gold
+watch chain, was trying somewhat feebly to help her mother, and holding
+the kettle so unsteadily that the water splashed on the clean flags. A
+group of men and boys stood round awestruck, anxious to glean every bit
+of information that could be given.
+
+There was a murmur as Claud appeared, and everyone made room for him to
+enter.
+
+"Missis--here be the London gentleman," said a great benevolent-looking
+laborer who stood near the door.
+
+"Eh? Oh, come in, sir. Declare I near forgot you in the hurry of it.
+Saul, my boy, take the things from the gentleman, there's a dearr lamb."
+
+A tall boy about sixteen came forward, and held out his hands for the
+easel with a lovely smile.
+
+Mr. Cranmer resigned his burden with a momentary admiration of the
+beauty of the West of England peasantry, and came forward to where Mrs.
+Battishill was standing.
+
+"As I was saying, sir, I grudges nothing; the time, nor the food, nor
+the bed, nor anything; but if he could have managed to fall ill at any
+other time than right on top o' my hay harvest! Lord knows how I'm going
+to d�! There'll be thirty men to feed to-morrow, sir, count heads all
+round, and it's one woman's work to get ready the victuals, I can tell
+you, and Clara and the gal doing everything wrong if I so much as turns
+my head away! And if I'm to be up all night----"
+
+He was able to calm her considerably with the hope of the village
+nurse's speedy arrival, and was on the point of asking to go up and see
+the patient, when a clatter of hoofs was heard, and the doctor appeared
+on the scene.
+
+He was a rough, surly, middle-aged man, totally without any modern ideas
+of comfort or consideration, but with broken limbs and broken heads he
+was in his element, for he had a sharp practice amongst the quarrymen.
+
+Mrs. Battishill went upstairs with him, and Claud sat on the
+kitchen-table, swinging his legs.
+
+"Clara," said he, "I am most fearfully hungry."
+
+A giggle went round the assembly, as Clara, blushing rosy red, ran to
+get him some bread and cream, and a draught of cider.
+
+"This is food for the gods," said the hungry Claud, as he covered his
+bread thickly with scalded cream. "This is indeed a land flowing with
+milk and honey."
+
+"I can get yer some hooney t�, if yer wants it," murmured Clara, very
+low, with drooping eyes.
+
+"No, no, I was only speaking metaphorically," said he, laughing. "How
+old are you, Clara?"
+
+"A'm seventeen, sirr."
+
+"Ah! That's a fine age. And how old's your brother?"
+
+"A've t� broothers, sirr."
+
+"Oh, two--which be they?" said Claud, wiping his lips, and surveying his
+admiring audience.
+
+The two Battishills stepped forward, grinning.
+
+"Oh! isn't that tall fellow with the light hair your brother?" he said,
+indicating the boy whom Mrs. Battishill had called Saul.
+
+She shook her head, and there was a general titter, while the words
+"sorft," "innocent," could be heard, by which means he gradually
+gathered that Saul was the village idiot, at home everywhere and beloved
+everywhere. Finding himself the object of general attention, the boy
+crept behind Clara, who was a head shorter than he, and hid his face in
+her neck till only his beautiful golden curls were visible.
+
+She leaned back, her arms on his hips, blushing and laughing.
+
+"He's turrible shy with strangers," she said, "he can't bear 'em. Stan'
+up straight, thee girt fule, Saul!"
+
+Claud thought it as picturesque an interior as Teniers ever painted. The
+great hearth, with its seats each side of the chimney, the glowing
+fire, the white washed walls, the shining tins on the dresser, the
+amused, absorbed faces of the peasantry, and through the open door a
+waft of pure air with a glimpse of trees and evening sky.
+
+He turned next to Joe Battishill, a comely young man of one and twenty.
+
+"What do you think of this affair?" he asked. "You know these parts--I
+don't. Has such a thing ever happened before?"
+
+There was a chorus of "No!" and at least half a dozen started forward to
+vindicate their country side of such a charge. All were convinced that
+it was the work of some tramp, and then Claud proceeded to give them his
+ideas on the subject. It was agreed that the stranger spoke sound sense,
+and several volunteered to organize search parties. This was just what
+he wanted them to do, and he despatched some towards Edge Combe, some
+along the highroad to Stanton, and with these last he sent a scribbled
+note, enclosing his card, to the Stanton constabulary.
+
+He begged them to watch every tramp, every suspicious character that
+passed through the town. Just as he was in the act of writing, and
+waxing quite excited in his converse with the men, the doctor was heard
+lumbering downstairs.
+
+A dozen eager faces darted forward to hear the news, but the doctor
+marched in solemn silence through the group, and took up his position in
+front of the great fire, facing the assembly.
+
+"A won't speak a worrd till he's had his ciderr," whispered Mrs.
+Battishill to Claud, and Clara went flying past him into the cellar.
+
+Meanwhile Dr. Forbes' sharp eyes had travelled round the room till they
+rested on Claud, and the two stood staring at one another in a manner
+irresistibly comic to the latter.
+
+Certainly Mr. Cranmer introduced a foreign element into the society, an
+element the doctor would scarcely be prepared to find in Mrs.
+Battishill's kitchen. He was not above middle height, and slightly
+built. In complexion he was somewhat fair, with closely cropped, smooth
+dust-colored hair and moustache, and a pale face. His eyes were grey and
+usually half shut, and he might have been any age you please, from five
+and twenty to forty. He had no pretence to good looks of any kind, but
+he possessed an elegance not very easy to describe--a grace of bearing,
+a gentleness of manner, a readiness of speech, which no doubt he owed to
+his Irish origin. He was a conspicuously neat person, never rumpled,
+never disarrayed, and now, after his very unusual exertions, his collar
+and tie were in perfect order, his fresh, quiet, light suit was
+spotless, and his neat brown felt "bowler" lay on the table at his side
+without even a flack of dust.
+
+His glass was in his eye, and he held a piece of bread and cream in his
+hand. Feeling the doctor's eyes upon him, he deliberately ate a
+mouthful; then, rising his mug of cider:
+
+"I drink your good health, sir," he said. "How do you find your
+patient?"
+
+"My patient, sir," said Dr. Forbes, in a loud, resonant voice, "has had
+as foul usage as ever I saw in my life. He'll pull through, he has a
+splendid constitution. I never saw a finer physique; but he'll have a
+fight for it."
+
+At this point Clara brought up the cider, which the doctor drained at
+one long steady pull, after which he wiped his large expressive mouth.
+
+"If the blow on his head had been as hard as those that followed it,
+he'd have been a dead man by now," he said presently. "But luckily it
+was not. It was only strong enough to stun him. But there's a broken arm
+and a couple of broken ribs, and wounds and contusions all over him.
+Sir, if the weapon employed had equalled the goodwill of him who
+employed it, there would have been a fine funeral here at Edge Combe
+to-morrow."
+
+"Then," said Claud, eagerly, "what do you think the blows were inflicted
+with?"
+
+"A stick--a cudgel of some sort," said the doctor, "but I'll swear they
+were given by a novice--by a man that didn't know where to hit, but just
+slashed at the prostrate carcase promiscuously. Why, if that first blow
+on the head had been followed by another to match--there would have been
+the business done at once! But I can't conceive the motive--that's what
+baffles me, sir."
+
+"But--don't you think the motive was robbery?" cried Claud, excitedly.
+
+"What did he rob him of?" said the doctor; and opening his enormous
+hand, he showed a handsome gold watch and chain, a ring with a sunk
+diamond in it, a sovereign or two, and some loose silver.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER VII.
+
+    Where the quiet-colored end of evening smiles,
+                    Miles on miles
+    On the solitary pastures, where our sheep,
+                    Half asleep,
+    Tinkle homeward in the twilight--stay or stop
+                    As they crop.
+
+    BROWNING.
+
+
+There was a general hush, during which the doctor surveyed Mr. Cranmer
+keenly.
+
+"What _can_ be the meaning of it?" cried Claud, thoroughly disconcerted
+and at fault.
+
+"That's past my telling, or the telling of anybody else, I think," said
+Dr. Forbes, slowly. "It's the most mysterious thing in the whole course
+of my professional experience." He eyed Claud again. "Will you be a
+friend of his?" he asked.
+
+"No, no--I know nothing of him at all," said the young man, proceeding
+briefly to relate how strangely he had been summoned to the scene of the
+tragedy. The Scotchman listened attentively, and then asked abruptly:
+
+"Since ye take so kindly an interest in the poor lad, will ye come up
+and see him?"
+
+"I should like to," said Claud at once.
+
+"Should we go after all, sir?" asked Joe Battishill, diffidently.
+
+"What--on the search expeditions? Yes, it would be as well to rouse the
+neighborhood," said Cranmer, after a moment's consideration; "but tell
+the Stanton constables this extraordinary fact about the property not
+being taken. If only I could get a word with the poor fellow
+himself,--if only he were conscious!"
+
+"He'll not be conscious yet awhile," said the doctor.
+
+They ascended the old stairs with their weighty bannisters, the loud
+tread with which the doctor crossed the kitchen having vanished
+entirely. His step was noiseless as he opened the bed-room door. It was
+a big room, airy and clean, and the bed was a large and cumbersome
+four-poster, with pink hangings. Among a forest of pillows lay Allonby,
+his fine proportions shrouded in one of Farmer Battishill's
+night-shirts. His eyes were wide open, and with the arm which was not
+strapped up he was beating wearily on the counterpane.
+
+The farmer's wife, having no ice, was laying bandages of vinegar and
+water on his head to cool him. The doctor had set the casement window
+wide open, and the low clucking of the fowls in the farmyard was softly
+audible. Mr. Cranmer approached the bedside and looked down at the
+sufferer.
+
+Allonby was a fine-looking young man--perhaps thirty years old, with
+strongly defined features and a pale complexion. He had a rather long,
+hooked nose, his eyes were set in deep under hollow brows, and his chin
+was prominent, giving a marked individuality to the face, which was,
+however, too thin for beauty. It was the face of a man who was always
+rather anxious, to whom the realities of life were irksome, but who had
+nevertheless always to consider the question of � s. d.--a worn face,
+which just now, in its suffering and pallid aspect, looked very sad. The
+soft dark brown hair lay in a loose wave over a fine and thoughtful
+forehead. It was with an instinct of warm friendliness that the gazer
+turned from the bedside.
+
+"Oh, what a shame it is!" he said, indignantly. "I think I never heard
+of such a butchery. But now, the thing is to find his friends. Had he a
+pocket-book with him? If not, I must walk down to the inn and
+inquire--he must have left letters or papers somewhere."
+
+"Here's a pocket-book," said the doctor, holding out a leathern pouch of
+untidy and well-worn appearance.
+
+Claud carried it to the window, and opened it. It contained several
+receipted bills, six postage-stamps, two five-pound notes, a couple of
+photographs of a racing crew in striped jerseys, with the name "Byrne,
+Richmond," on the back of them, an exhibitor's admission to the Royal
+Academy exhibition, and several cards of invitation and private view
+tickets. These served to elucidate the fact that the artist's name was
+Osmond Allonby, but no more.
+
+He lifted the grey coat which hung over a chair, and felt in all its
+pockets. At last, from the outer one, he unearthed a pocket handkerchief
+and a letter addressed to
+
+    _O. Allonby, Esq.,
+    At "The Fountain Head,"
+    Edge Combe,
+    South Devon._
+
+"I hope he'll forgive my opening it, poor chap," said Claud, and he
+pulled the paper from its envelope.
+
+The address, as is customary in letters between people who know each
+other intimately, was insufficient. It was merely "7, Mansfield Road."
+He glanced over the beginning--it was quaint enough.
+
+"How are you getting on, old man? We are being fried alive here, and the
+weather has put old C---- into such an unbearable rage that Jac says he
+has brought out the old threat once more, all the girls are to be turned
+out of the R. A. schools!"
+
+The reader was sorely tempted to continue this effusion, but nobly
+skipped all the rest of the closely-written sheet, and merely looked at
+the signature.
+
+    "Always your loving sister,
+
+    "WYN."
+
+"How much trouble young ladies would save, if only they would sign their
+names properly!" said Claud, somewhat exasperated. "However, if she is
+his sister I suppose it is fair to conclude her name to be Allonby. Wyn
+Allonby!"
+
+He turned to the envelope, and in a moment of inspiration bethought him
+of the postmark. It bore the legend, London, S. W.
+
+"That's enough!" he said, "now I can telegraph. That's all I wanted to
+know. Mrs. Battishill, will you kindly take all these things and lock
+them up in a drawer, please, for Mr. Allonby's people to have when they
+come."
+
+He proceeded to wrap the watch, chain, pocket-book, etc., all together
+in a paper, and deposited them in a drawer which Mrs. Battishill locked
+and took the key.
+
+Claud could hardly restrain a smile as he busied himself thus. The idea
+would occur to him of how ridiculous it was that he, Claud Cranmer,
+should be so occupied!--of what Mab would say if she could only see this
+preternatural, this business-like seriousness!--of what all the men at
+the "Eaton" would say!--of how they would shout with laughter at the
+idea of his posing as the hero of such a predicament!--of what a tale
+it would be for everyone down in the shires that autumn!
+
+A voice from Allonby suddenly recalled him to the present. He approached
+the bed-side full of pity, trying to catch the fragments of speech which
+the sick man uttered with difficulty from time to time.
+
+"And now farewell!--I am going a long way," said Allonby, and after a
+pause again repeated, "I am going a long way ... if indeed I go,--for
+all my mind is clouded with a doubt,--to the island valley of----"
+
+A pause, then again.
+
+"To the island valley of--what is it? where is it? I forget--I cannot
+say it,--to the island valley of----"
+
+"Avilion?" suggested Claud.
+
+There was a sigh of relief.
+
+"Yes--that's it! that's it! The Island Valley of Avilion, where I will
+heal me of my--grievous wound."
+
+"Now I wonder what has put that into his head?" said Claud.
+
+"Following up some previous train of thought most probably," said the
+doctor. "The subject for a picture I should say very likely. Let him be,
+poor lad."
+
+Clara here tapped softly at the door, to say that the nurse had arrived;
+and Claud was despatched downstairs to send her up, the doctor remaining
+to give her directions.
+
+Joe Battishill and another young laborer were waiting at the door for
+"the gentleman's orders," and when he had sent up the nurse--a nice
+motherly, clean-looking woman,--he sat down to write out his telegram.
+
+"Beg pardon, sir," said a big man, pushing past the others to the table,
+"but I should like half-a-dozen words wi' ye. I'm Willum Clapp as keeps
+the 'Fountain Head,' and my missus be in a fine takin' about this poor
+young chap, an' I wants to hear all that's took place."
+
+"Oh, you're the landlord of the 'Fountain Head,' are you?" said Claud,
+"you're just the man I wanted to see. Can you account in any way for
+this that has happened? What sort of man was your lodger,
+quiet?--peaceable?"
+
+William Clapp broke out into a warm eulogium on the virtues of "Muster
+Allonba!"
+
+He was quiet, gentle, good-humored, and had his word and his joke for
+everyone. He had only received two letters since he came to Edge, one of
+which he put in the fire after reading it. This Mr. Clapp specially
+remembered, because his lodger had to come into the kitchen to
+accomplish the said feat, there being, naturally, no fire in the
+sitting-room. He had started from the inn that morning a little before
+mid-day, with his dinner done up in a blue handkerchief--
+
+"And that minds me, sirr, to ask if Missus Battishill could let my
+missus have back the handkercher and the pudding-dish, as there'll be
+sooch a-many dinners to send out to the hayfields to-morrow."
+
+"Oh--certainly, I suppose Mrs. Clapp can have her things; just ask after
+them, some of you fellows. And now tell me," said Claud, "did Mr.
+Allonby know anybody down in these parts?"
+
+"No, sirr, I don't think he did."
+
+"Are you sure?"
+
+"Sure as can be, sirr. At least, if a did, a said nowt abaout it to me
+or the missus."
+
+"Nobody ever came to see him?"
+
+"No, sirr, that I'm certain on!"
+
+"Did he seem as if he had anything on his mind?"
+
+"No, that a didn't, for my missus said as haow she neverr see such a
+light-hearted chap in herr life!"
+
+Claud pondered deeply, nursing one knee and staring at the kitchen
+floor.
+
+"You see, this is what bothers me, Mr. Clapp," he said. "It was an
+assault apparently without any motive whatever, for Mr. Allonby was not
+robbed."
+
+"Eh, it's as queer a thing as ever I heard on, and as awful," said
+William Clapp. "In the meedst of life we are in death, as I've often
+heared in church, sirr! Why, the mowers in Miss Willoughby's grass, and
+Loud at the smithy, they see him go by a-laughing and a-giving everyone
+good-morning as perlite and well-mannered as could be; and the next one
+hears of him----!"
+
+The farmer made an eloquent gesture with his hand.
+
+"Well, I'm just writing a message to his people, Mr. Clapp," said Claud.
+"I found a letter from his sister in London, and I thought the best
+thing to do was to telegraph for her to come straight."
+
+"If _you_ please, sirr," said the landlord, "anything me or my missus
+can do----"
+
+"I am sure of it, and thank you kindly. I may want a bed at your house
+to-morrow night, but I'll let you know."
+
+He rapidly pencilled a message to--
+
+    _Miss Wyn Allonby,
+    7 Mansfield Road,
+    London, S. W._
+
+Then paused a minute.
+
+"I don't even know whether she's married or not," he reflected.
+"However, I should think this would find her any way; people usually
+open telegrams."
+
+He wrote:
+
+     "_Accident to Mr. Allonby. Serious. Has been taken to Poole Farm.
+     11.30 train Waterloo to Stanton shall be met to-morrow._"
+
+He glanced up at the landlord.
+
+"I will add your name," he said, "and address,--it will be better."
+
+So he added, "Clapp, Fountain Head Inn," and passed the paper over to
+Joe Battishill, who gravely began to count the syllables.
+
+"One and twopence, please, sir," said Joe.
+
+Claud tossed him half-a-crown.
+
+"You'll want something when you get to Stanton," he said; "you can keep
+the change."
+
+Clara came creeping down the stair, looking white and nervous.
+
+"Please, sir, mother say she never saw no blue handkercher nor
+pudding-basin neither."
+
+"Eh?" said Claud. "Well, now I come to think of it, no more did I; I
+suppose it was left by the wayside."
+
+"I'll be bold to say it wasn't," said William Clapp, "for I walked oop
+right past the place, and I should a known my missus's dish-clout, bless
+yer."
+
+"I suppose it's hidden among the grass," said Mr. Cranmer, after a
+moment's thought. "Let us go and look. Is your mother sure it was not
+brought here, Clara?"
+
+"Certain sure, sir. Nobody carried away anything but mother, who took
+the peecture, an' you as carried the box and easel."
+
+"Could Miss Brabourne's servant have taken it?" suggested Claud.
+
+"Nay, sir, a think not," said Clapp, "for a stopped to speak to my
+missus, and she would ha' gi'en her the things if she had 'em."
+
+"Let's go and look!" cried Claud, seizing his hat again.
+
+The sun had set at last--what a long lime it seemed to have taken
+to-night! The rosy afterglow dyed all the heavens, and the trees were
+outlined black against it. As they hurried through the Waste, it seemed
+to the young man as if he had known the neighborhood for years; ages
+appeared to have elapsed since the afternoon, when he had been soberly
+driving with Mab along the coach-road, accomplishing the last stage in
+their pleasant, uneventful ten days' driving-tour. How little he had
+thought, when he planned that driving-tour for Mab, who had been
+thoroughly wearied out with an epidemic of whooping-cough in her
+nursery, that it would lead to consequences such as these. He was
+profoundly interested in the mysterious circumstances of this affair in
+which, somehow, he had been made to play such a prominent part. Come
+what might, he must stay and see it out. Mab might go home if she
+liked--in fact, he thought she had better telegraph to Edward to come
+and fetch her. The children were all at Eastbourne with the nurses, and
+she would have a chance of quiet if she went for a few days to the
+"mater's" inconvenient dark little house in Provost Street, Park Lane;
+and----
+
+"Here you are, sirr," said William Clapp, in his broad Devon. "Where's
+the missus's dishclout?"
+
+In fact, it was not to be seen. They searched for it high and low, in
+vain. Mr. Cranmer felt as if he were in the toils of that mixture of the
+ghastly and the absurd which we call nightmare. This last detail was too
+ridiculous! That a gentleman should be waylaid and murdered on the
+king's highway, and all for the sake of a blue handkerchief and a
+pudding-basin! In his mingled feelings of amusement and annoyance, he
+did not know whether to laugh or be angry--the whole thing was too
+incredible, too monstrous.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER VIII.
+
+    "Thy steps are dancing towards the bound
+      Between the child and woman,
+    And thoughts and feelings more profound
+      And other years are coming;
+    And thou shalt be more deeply fair,
+      More precious to the heart,
+    But never canst thou be again
+      The lovely thing thou art."
+
+    SIDNEY WALKER.
+
+
+"My dear, I cannot understand it!" said Miss Charlotte Willoughby.
+
+"It is most strange--you don't think Mrs. Battishill can have kept them
+to tea?" hazarded Miss Fanny, in her gentle way.
+
+Miss Charlotte crushed her, as usual.
+
+"Jane stay out to tea without leave? She has never done such thing a
+before."
+
+"It's very warm. They may be lingering on account of the heat," put in
+Miss Ellen's quiet voice.
+
+"The heat is not too great for any healthy girl," said Miss Emily, with
+decision. "I have noticed lately in Elaine a very languid and dawdling
+way of doing things. I shall speak to her on the subject. I don't know
+what she has to occupy her thoughts, but she evidently is never thinking
+of what she is doing."
+
+"She is a dear good child, on the whole," said Miss Fanny, comfortably.
+
+"I cannot help thinking that she sometimes finds her life dull," said
+Ellen.
+
+"Dull!" cried the three ladies in chorus; and Charlotte added, in high
+and amazed tones:
+
+"Why, she is occupied from morning till night!"
+
+"It was only to-day I let her off a quarter-of-an-hour practising on
+account of the heat," continued Fanny.
+
+"If you think she might devote more time to her calisthenics----" began
+Emily.
+
+"It was not that I meant at all," said Ellen, when she could get a
+hearing. "I do not complain of want of occupation for hers, but want of
+amusement."
+
+"I was always taught to consider," said Charlotte, in a tone of some
+displeasure, "that those who were fully employed need never complain of
+_ennui_. Occupation is amusement."
+
+"Then, to follow on your argument," said Ellen, half playfully, "the
+convicts who are sentenced to hard labor must have a most amusing time
+of it."
+
+This remark, savoring dangerously of irony, was received by the three
+sisters with utter silence, and Charlotte thought, as she often did,
+what a pity it was that Ellen read so many books; really it quite warped
+her judgment.
+
+"Of course everything should be in moderation," she said frigidly, after
+a pause; "too severe labor would be as bad for the body as too little is
+for the mind."
+
+This speech sounded rather well, and Charlotte's temper was somewhat
+soothed by the feeling that she had made a hit.
+
+Miss Ellen sighed. She felt that nothing could be done on Elaine's
+behalf, if she began by setting up the backs of the entire council of
+education. Yet so narrow had the minds of these excellent women grown,
+by living so perpetually in one groove, that it seemed impossible even
+to hint that they were mistaken without putting them out of temper.
+
+"Of course I know that occupation is most necessary," said she, "and I
+agree with you that every woman should be well employed; but I only
+wanted to suggest that perhaps a little more variety than we find
+necessary might be good for the young. We are glad to live our quiet,
+untroubled days through; but for Elaine,--don't you think that some
+diversion now and then would be beneficial? Remember, as girls, we went
+to London for a month each spring, our dear father always gave us that
+treat; and I know that I, at least, used to get through my work here
+with all the greater zest because of looking forward to that month's
+enjoyment."
+
+"And what is the result?" burst out Miss Charlotte, with quite unusual
+energy. "What is the result of all this going to London, pray? I am sure
+I heartily wish, and Fanny for one agrees with me, that we had never
+gone near the place! If we had not gadded about to London our poor
+pretty Alice would never have met that vile Valentine Brabourne with his
+deceitful face, and the family tragedy would never have taken place----"
+
+"And we should never have had Elaine to brighten our home and give us
+something to care for," said Ellen, speaking bravely, though the
+remembrance of her favorite sister brought the color to her wan face,
+and dimmed her eyes.
+
+"You know the reason we never took Elaine to London was to keep her as
+much as possible dissociated from her step-mother and step-brother,"
+went on Miss Charlotte, combatively.
+
+"Yes, I know," answered her sister, quietly, "and that is where I think
+we have been so wrong. Because, much as we may have disliked Mrs.
+Brabourne, she was Valentine Brabourne's wife, and we had no right to
+allow Elaine to grow up quite estranged from her brother."
+
+This took Charlotte's breath quite away. It was rare to hear Ellen
+assert herself at all, but to hear her deliberately say that Charlotte
+was wrong----!
+
+"I am much more to blame than any of you," went on Ellen, "because I
+will admit that, at the time Elaine came to us, I was very, very sore at
+the conduct of Mrs. Brabourne and her relations, and I was only eager to
+get possession of the child and keep her from them all; but I was quite
+wrong, Charlotte. Think what an interest her little brother would have
+been to her."
+
+"Well, I do think, Ellen, you cannot quite reflect on what you are
+saying," said Charlotte, her tongue loosed at last in a perfect torrent
+of words. "I have always said you read too many books, and I suppose you
+have some romantic notion of reconciliation in your head now. I have
+every respect for you, Ellen, as the head of this family, but you must
+allow me to say that, invalid as you are, and always confined to the
+house, you are apt to be taken hold of by crotchets and fancies. Let us
+look for a moment at the facts of the case: do you consider that Mrs.
+Brabourne was a fit person to have the bringing-up of Elaine?"
+
+"No, I frankly say I do not. I am not suggesting that Mrs. Brabourne
+should have brought her up."
+
+"Do you consider that the Ortons would be a nice house for Elaine to be
+constantly visiting at?"
+
+"No, Charlotte, I cannot say I do."
+
+"Do you imagine it at all likely that we could have been on terms of any
+intimacy with Mrs. Brabourne and her brother _without_ allowing Elaine
+to visit there?"
+
+"It might have been difficult," Miss Ellen, with rising color was
+constrained to admit; "but I was not advocating intimacy exactly; only
+that Elaine should be on friendly terms with little Godfrey."
+
+"Is she _not_ on friendly terms? I am sure then it is not my fault. She
+sends him a card every Christmas and a present every birthday, and
+always writes to her step-mother once a year. I really do not see how
+one could go much further without the intimacy which you admit is
+undesirable," cried Charlotte, in triumph.
+
+"I do not admit that it is undesirable for Elaine to be intimate with
+her brother," said Ellen, with firmness.
+
+"And pray how is the brother to be separated from the Orton crew, with
+their Sunday tennis-parties, their actors and actresses, their racing
+and their betting?"
+
+"By asking him down here to stay with his sister," said Ellen, quietly.
+
+A pause followed, an awful pause, which to good little Miss Fanny boded
+so darkly, that she hurled herself into the breach with energetic
+good-will.
+
+"Dear me!" she cried, "what a good idea! What a treat for dear Elaine! I
+wonder nobody ever thought of it before!"
+
+"Do you? _I_ do not," said Charlotte, with withering contempt. "I wish,
+Fanny, I really wish you would reflect a little before you speak--you
+are as unpractical as Ellen is!"
+
+Miss Fanny rejoiced in having at least partially diverted the storm to
+her own head--she was well used to it, and would emerge from Charlotte's
+ponderous admonitions as fresh and smiling as a daisy from under a
+roller.
+
+"Do you know the atmosphere in which that boy has been brought up?" went
+on the irate speaker. "Do you know the society to which he is
+accustomed--the language he usually hears--and, very probably, speaks?
+He smokes and drinks, I should say--plays billiards and bets, very
+probably--a charming companion for our Elaine."
+
+"My dear Charlotte, he is not fourteen yet, and he is being educated at
+the most costly private school--he can scarcely drink and gamble yet, I
+really think," remonstrated Ellen.
+
+"Oh, of course, if you choose to invite him, there is no need to say
+more--no need to consult me--the house is not mine, as no doubt you wish
+to remind me," said Charlotte, with virulent injustice.
+
+"Char!" cried Ellen, in much tribulation, "you know, my dear, so well
+that I would not for worlds annoy you--I would do nothing contrary to
+your judgment. You know how I lean upon you in everything. But think,
+dear, if this poor little boy is brought up, as you say, in a house-hold
+of Sabbath breaking, careless people, is it not only right, only
+charitable on our part to ask him here and see if we cannot show him the
+force of a good example? Are we so uncertain of the results of our
+teaching on Elaine that we feel sure he will corrupt her? May we not
+hope that the contrary will be the case--that the care we have lavished
+on our girl may help her to serve her brother?"
+
+"My dear Ellen, I never yet put a rotten apple into a basket of good
+ones with the idea that the sound apples would cure the rotten one,"
+said Miss Charlotte, grimly.
+
+"Oh, surely the case is not the same," cried Miss Ellen, too flurried to
+search for the fallacy in her sister's analogy.
+
+"Put it in this way: In two years--only two years, mind--Elaine will be
+her own mistress, whether or not she inherits the fortune which we think
+is hers by right, she will at least have a handsome allowance. With what
+confidence will you be able to launch her out into the world if you fear
+now that, in her own home, and surrounded by her home influences, she
+will not be able to withstand the corrupting power of a little boy of
+fourteen?"
+
+"There again, that is all rhodomontade," cried Charlotte, "talking on,
+without reflection, which is very surprising in a woman of your sound
+sense. 'Launch her out into the world,' indeed! As if we were going to
+turn Elaine out of the house on her twenty first birthday, and wash our
+hands of her. What is to prevent her staying here always, if she
+pleases?"
+
+"What is to keep her here a moment, if she chooses to go?" asked Ellen.
+
+Charlotte hesitated a little.
+
+"She is not likely to choose to go," she said.
+
+"I am not so sure. There is a great deal--oh, a great deal in Elaine
+which none of us have ever seen," replied her sister. "It sometimes
+frightens me to think how little I know about her."
+
+"I cannot imagine what you mean," said Charlotte, in the blank, dry tone
+she always used when she could not understand what was said.
+
+"You will see some day," said Ellen, which Micaiah-like prophecy
+exasperated her sister the more.
+
+"I think Ellen is right," said Emily, suddenly.
+
+She had taken very little part in the discussion, but it was always
+assumed in the family that Emily would agree with Charlotte. The open
+desertion of this unfailing ally bereft the already much irritated lady
+of the power of speech.
+
+"I mean about having the boy Brabourne to stay here," said Emily, "I
+have thought of the same thing myself more than once--that Elaine ought
+to get acquainted with him, and that the only way to do it would be to
+have him here, as we dislike the Ortons so much. I don't want people to
+think that we grudge him his share of the inheritance, and I think it
+looks like that, if we ignore him so persistently."
+
+This was putting the matter on a ground less high than Ellen's, and one,
+therefore, more easily grasped by the others.
+
+"I quite agree with you," murmured Fanny, and Charlotte raised an
+aroused face from her work.
+
+"I daresay," said Emily, "that the Ortons all laugh at us for nasty
+covetous old maids, and that they think we dislike the boy simply
+because we are jealous, I don't exactly like to have people imagine
+that."
+
+"Naturally not," Charlotte was beginning, in muffled tones, when Fanny
+exclaimed, in consternation,
+
+"Bless us all! Look at the clock! Where can that child be?"
+
+All looked up. The urn had long ceased to sing, the hot cake was cold,
+the fried ham had turned to white lumps of fat, and the finger of the
+clock pointed to seven.
+
+They had been so absorbed in discussing Elaine's future that her present
+whereabouts had entirely been forgotten. Now at last they were
+thoroughly anxious.
+
+Fanny rang the bell to have the tea re-made and the food heated, Emily
+hurried out to see if there were any signs of the wanderers on the road
+across the valley. Charlotte went to Acland, the coachman, to tell him
+to go and look for them.
+
+"You had better harness Charlie, and take the carriage," she said, "I am
+afraid something is wrong--Miss Elaine has sprained her ankle, or
+something; anyway, it is getting so late, they had better drive home. It
+is very strange; I can't understand it at all."
+
+"No, miss, not more can't I, for Jane's mostly a woonderful poonctual
+body for her tea," said Acland, chuckling.
+
+"Never known her late before; something _must_ have happened."
+
+She walked nervously across the stable-yard, and looked down the drive.
+
+Lo! and behold a trim little carriage was just entering, and perched on
+the box beside a strange coachman was Jane herself.
+
+"Jane!" screamed Charlotte, "where's Miss Elaine?"
+
+The carriage came to a standstill, and Elaine, white, and, somehow,
+altered-looking, stood up in it.
+
+"Here I am, Aunt Char," she said; "I am quite safe."
+
+"But what--what--what has happened?" gasped Miss Charlotte, staring at
+Elaine's travelling-companion. "Jane, what has happened?"
+
+For all answer, Jane went off into a perfect volley of hysterics. It was
+scarcely to be wondered at, for her day's experience had far exceeded
+anything which had previously happened to her in all her fifty years of
+life.
+
+Miss Charlotte was greatly alarmed, however, as Jane's usual demeanor
+was staid and unemotional to a degree. She ran for sal volatile, salts,
+for she hardly knew what, and soon her agitated and broken utterances
+drew Fanny and Emily out into the stable-yard.
+
+Elaine did not go into hysterics. She stood up, very white, with shining
+eyes, which seemed bluer and larger than usual, as Lady Mabel introduced
+herself to the ladies, and began a clear and graphic description of what
+had taken place. It seemed too incredible, too horrifying to be true,
+that their little Edge Combe had been the scene of such violence and
+bloodshed.
+
+So overcome were they that they quite forgot even to thank Lady Mabel
+for her kindness in bringing Elaine home, until she said, with a
+charmingly graceful bow, "And now I will not keep you, as I know you
+are longing to be rid of me;" and extended a hand in leave taking.
+
+Then Miss Charlotte suddenly rallied, and said,
+
+"Oh, but we could not on any account allow you to go on without taking
+some refreshment."
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER IX.
+
+    So it would once have been--'tis so no more,
+      I have submitted to a new control;
+    A power is gone which nothing can restore,
+      A deep distress hath humanized my soul.
+
+    WORDSWORTH.
+
+
+Lady Mabel did not require much pressing to induce her to accept the
+eagerly-offered tea and rest. She was tired and wet, hungry and thirsty,
+and in her graceful, Irish way, she made her acceptance seem like the
+conferring of a favor.
+
+It was with some amused and speculative interest that she entered the
+house which had produced such an anachronism of Miss Elaine Brabourne.
+
+The sisters greeted her with some nervousness, but as much cordiality as
+they knew how to show. Hospitality was a virtue they all possessed,
+though their opportunities of displaying it were few and far between. A
+grateful coolness was the first sensation which her ladyship experienced
+on entering the low-ceiled dining-room. A real Devonshire "high tea" was
+spread on the table in tempting profusion. There were chudleighs and
+cream, cakes and honey, eggs from the poultry-yard, and such ham as
+could only be cured in perfection at Edge Willoughby.
+
+Miss Ellen lay on her couch near the window, and, as she stretched her
+thin hand in kindly greeting, her guest was much impressed by the
+refined and intellectual type of her features, and their lovable
+expression. In the blue, shadowy eyes, with their long lashes,
+underlined as they were with the purple marks of suffering, and
+wrinkling in the corners with advancing years, could be clearly traced
+the wreck of the same beauty which was budding in Elaine. Miss Emily too
+was handsome, though a hard expression robbed her face of the charm of
+her sister's. Little Miss Fanny, in her plump and plaintive amiability,
+was also prepossessing in her way, Charlotte only, with massive jaw,
+large features, high forehead, and stony gaze, conveyed a feeling of
+awe.
+
+This forehead was not only high but _polished_. It shone and twinkled in
+the light, as though the skin were too tightly stretched on the bony
+knobs of the skull beneath. The sparse hair was tightly strained away
+from it above--the frowning sandy eyebrows failed to soften it below.
+Lady Mabel guessed at once who was the ruling spirit of this
+unconventual sisterhood.
+
+The furniture of the room was the furniture of a by-gone day, when art
+had not been promulgated, and nobody thought of considering beauty as in
+any sense an important factor of one's happiness. In that sad period the
+fated Misses Willoughbys' youth had been cast. Alas! for the waste of
+good material which must then have been the rule! Girls intended by
+nature to be beautiful and charming, yet who, by dint of never
+comprehending their mission, managed only to be ugly and clumsy. The
+parents of these girls had forgotten the sweet and harmonious names of
+their Anglo-Saxon ancestry. There were no more Ediths, or Ethels, or
+Cicelys, or Dorothys. Even the age of Lady Betty had passed and gone.
+Amelia, Caroline and Charlotte, Maria and Augusta were the order of the
+day.
+
+It agonizes one only to think of the way those unlucky girls violated
+the laws of taste. Their fathers surrounded them with bulky mahogany
+furniture, and green and blue woollen damask. No wonder they dressed
+themselves in harrowing mixture of magenta and pink and mauve. Why
+should they trouble to arrange their hair with any view to preserving
+the _contour_ of their head, when every tea-cup they used was a
+monstrosity, every jug or bowl the violation of a law?
+
+The delicate fancy of Wedgewood and his school was banished and ignored
+with the Chippendale furniture and all the other graces of their
+grandfathers. Everything must be as large as possible, and as unwieldy.
+The questions of beauty and of usefulness were as nothing if only the
+table or chair were sufficiently cumbersome.
+
+Mercifully for us that terrible time of degradation was short. A
+violent reaction soon set in. But the period left its marks behind
+it--left a generation which it had infected and lowered, out of whom it
+had knocked all the romance, from whom it had extracted, in some fatal
+way, the faculty to appreciate the beautiful, and the Misses Willoughby,
+house and all, were a living monument of its hideous influence.
+
+The furniture remained as it had been in the life-time of their father.
+The sisters never wore anything out, so what would have been the object
+of renewing it? Everything looked as it used to look, and was arranged
+as it had been arranged in the days of their wasted girlhood, what could
+Elaine desire further? She would fare as they had done. It seldom
+occurred to them that their mode of life left anything to be desired.
+
+Let it not for a moment be thought that the study of art is here
+advocated as a remedy for all the ills that flesh is heir to, or that
+the laws of beauty are in any way suggested as a substitute for those
+higher laws without which life must be incomplete. It is of course more
+than possible for a woman with no eye at all for color, and an absolute
+disregard for symmetry, to lead the life of a heroine or a saint. And
+yet an innate instinct seems to suggest a close connection between the
+beauty of holiness and all the other million forms in which beauty is
+hourly submitted to our eye; and it seems just within the limits of
+possibility that a link should exist between the decadence of taste and
+the undoubted and unparalleled stagnation of religious life which
+certainly was to be found side by side with it.
+
+If we believe, as it is to be supposed Christians must, that a purpose
+exists in all the loveliness which is scattered about so lavishly
+through the natural world, then surely it follows that we can hardly
+afford to do quite without the help so afforded us, lest, in forgetting
+the loveliness of nature, we lose our aspiration towards the perfection
+of nature's God.
+
+Certainly, in the Willoughby family, the sister who evidently had the
+strongest feeling for beauty was the sister who most strongly suggested
+the Christian ideal of the spiritual life.
+
+The world in which Lady Mabel Wynch-Fr�re now found herself was a world
+so altogether new to her as to be exceedingly interesting to her
+restless mind.
+
+She did not find the particular grade of society in which her own lot
+was cast conspicuously fascinating. She had ability enough to despise
+the superficial life of a large portion of the fashionable world; and
+her delight was to seek out "fresh fields and pastures new."
+
+Elaine had inspired her with a peculiar interest. She was confident that
+the girl was a unique specimen in our essentially modern world. To watch
+the gradual unfolding of a mind behind the magnificent blankness of
+those enormous eyes, would be a study in emotions entirely after her
+ladyship's own heart. She knew that she already exerted a certain
+influence over this uncouth result of the Misses Willoughbys' attempts
+at education.
+
+As the girl sat at table, not eating a mouthful, her gaze was steadily
+rivetted on the new comer. To every word she uttered, a breathless
+attention was accorded. In vain the aunts remonstrated, and urged their
+usually meek charge to eat. She seemed dazed--in a dream--and sat on as
+if she did not hear them.
+
+"My youngest brother and I are the best of friends," said Lady Mabel to
+Miss Ellen. "We are the most alike of any of the family, and it is
+always a pleasure to us to be together. My little ones have had the
+whooping-cough--I adore my children, and I quite wore out myself with
+nursing them. When they were quite recovered, Claud thought I should
+take a little rest. My husband is just now in command of his regiment,
+and could not come with us, so we planned this little tour. To-day's
+tragic incident has been most unexpected. Stanton is our goal--we
+propose returning to London from thence, as we hear there is not much to
+see beyond. We have come along from Land's End--all the way! It seems
+perhaps a little heartless to say so, but in one way this tragedy will
+be of great interest to my brother. He has so desired to get a glimpse
+of the inner lives of these people. We have felt such complete
+outsiders, he and I--we have seen the country, but we cannot know the
+natives. At each inn, everybody puts on their company manners at once.
+We feel that they are endeavoring to suit their conversation to our
+rank. They will not appear before us naturally and simply; but you see,
+in a calamity like this, they have no time to pick their words. Like the
+doctor, one sees right into their hearts in such a moment; my brother
+will be deeply interested, I feel sure."
+
+"I am sure I hope the Battishills will remember to treat Mr. Cranmer
+with all due respect," said Miss Charlotte, with her manner of blank
+incomprehension of a word that had been said.
+
+It was such a conspicuously inapposite remark, that even Lady Mabel had
+no answer ready, and felt her flow of conversation unaccountably
+impeded.
+
+"They are very respectable people, as a rule," went on Miss Charlotte,
+"but Mrs. Battishill is apt to be short in her temper if flurried. I
+hope she was not rude to you, Lady Mabel?"
+
+"I scarcely saw her," answered her ladyship, perusing the speaker
+earnestly from her intense eyes.
+
+"I can understand that desire to win the hearts of the people," said
+Miss Ellen, quietly; "and I think perhaps our Cornish and Devonshire
+folk are particularly hard for strangers to read; they are very
+reserved, and their feelings are deep, and not easily stirred."
+
+"I am sure they are very ordinary kind of people, _I_ never find any
+difficulty in getting on with them; I don't approve of all this rubbish
+about feeling," said Miss Charlotte, shortly.
+
+Before the visitor had been half-an-hour at table, she knew that "I am
+sure" of Miss Charlotte's by heart, and a deep feeling of pity for those
+who had always to listen to it sprang up within her. There seemed to be
+no point on which the excellent lady was not sure, yet the mere
+statement of an opinion by anyone else appeared to rouse in her breast a
+feeling of covert ire.
+
+"Elaine, my child, come here," said Miss Ellen, softly.
+
+Elaine started, rose, and came round the table. Her aunt took her hands.
+
+"You are eating nothing," she said, "and your hands are very hot. Don't
+you feel well? Are you tired?"
+
+"I am sure," remarked Miss Charlotte, "she has had nothing to tire
+her--she drove all the way home from Poole."
+
+"Yes, but she has been agitated--she has had a shock," said Miss Ellen,
+anxiously; with a strange feeling, as she looked into the girl's dilated
+eyes, that Elaine was gone, and that she was perusing the face of a
+stranger. "Do you feel shaken, dear child?"
+
+"Yes," said Elaine at last, in her unready way.
+
+"She had better have a little wine and water, and lie down," said her
+aunt, sympathetically. "Go and lie on the sofa, Elaine dear, and rest. I
+am so vexed--so grieved for her to see such a terrible thing," she said
+to Lady Mabel. "One would always keep young girls in ignorance even to
+existence of crime."
+
+"Oh, would you?" said her ladyship, in accents of such real surprise
+that each sister looked up electrified at the bare idea of questioning
+such orthodox teaching. "I mean," she explained, with a smile, "that I
+think women ought to be very useful members of society, and I should not
+at all like to feel that the sight of a wounded wayfarer by the roadside
+only inspired one with the desire to faint. I shall wish all my girls to
+attend ambulance classes, so that a broken limb may always find them a
+help, not a hindrance. One cannot shut up girls in bandboxes nowadays,
+and I would not, if I could. Let them be of some use in their
+generation--able to stop a bleeding artery till the doctor comes, as
+well as able to bake a cake or make their clothes. Do you agree with me,
+Miss Willoughby?"
+
+Ellen hardly knew. The doctrine was to her so utterly novel. Charlotte's
+breath was so taken away that she had not a word to offer.
+
+"Every woman is sure to have emergencies in her life, is she not?" asked
+her ladyship, in her earnest winning way. "If not of one kind, then of
+another. If she marries, her children are certain to call forth her
+resources, if she does not marry, her nephews and nieces very probably
+will do so instead. How can a girl take a serious view of life if she
+does not know its realities? Of course there are limits--there are
+things which had better not be discussed before girls, because it would
+do them no good to know them, and there is no need to intrude the
+ghastly and the wicked unnecessarily into their lives; but I certainly
+would train a girl's nerves so that a shock should not utterly prostrate
+her. I would teach her courage and presence of mind."
+
+There was no answer whatever to this speech. Miss Charlotte, having
+never reflected on the subject in her life, had no opinion to offer. She
+had always taken it for granted that a lady should do nothing beyond
+needlework, and perhaps a little gardening. "Accomplishments" were the
+order of her day, in which list were bracketed together, with grim
+unconscious irony, watercolor painting and the manufacture of wax
+flowers!
+
+Her ladyship rose, and crossed the room with her light energetic step to
+where Elaine had seated herself on the sofa. The girl had not lain down,
+but remained with her eyes fixed on the visitor, drinking in every word
+she uttered. A cool hand was laid on her forehead, and a pair of
+wonderful eyes gazed down into hers!
+
+"Oh, yes--her forehead is very hot. I would not give her wine; give her
+some iced milk and soda water and let her go to bed, she is quite
+exhausted," she said. "And now I must bid you good-night, if I do not
+wish to be benighted," she added, rising.
+
+"Oh, but indeed we cannot let you go on to-night," said Miss Ellen
+eagerly. "You must be good enough to stay with us here. We have many
+more rooms than we can occupy, and we shall be glad to be of use----"
+
+There was some polite demur, but it was overruled; all the sisters
+seconded Ellen's invitation, and finally Lady Mabel gratefully accepted
+it, and sent her coachman up to Poole, to apprise her brother of her
+whereabouts, and to bring back the latest news of the invalid.
+
+Meanwhile the night had come. With all its stars it hung quietly over
+the fairy valley in solemn and moonless splendor. Elaine, sent to bed,
+had crept out from between the sheets, and knelt, crouched down by her
+window, awaiting the return of the messenger from Poole.
+
+So irregular a proceeding was a complete novelty in her career; but oh!
+the strange, new, trembling charm of having such a day's experiences to
+look back upon!
+
+It had all happened so rapidly, in such a few hours. That afternoon had
+begun, dull and eventless; now, how different was everything. In an
+undefined, vague way she felt that things could never more be quite as
+they had been. A boundary line had been passed. The world was different,
+and for the first time in her nineteen years she was engaged in the
+perilous delight of contemplating her own identity.
+
+Up to the dark purple vault of heaven were sighed that night vague
+aspirations from a heart which had never aspired before; a prayer went
+with them, which, brief and shapeless as it was, was nevertheless the
+first real prayer of Elaine Brabourne's heart:
+
+"Oh, if only he may not die!"
+
+After all, the Misses Willoughby were but human, and had all the
+feelings of the English provincial middle-classes.
+
+Their reverence for the aristocracy had something well-nigh touching in
+its simple faith. Determined as they were against anything
+unconventional, they yet almost dared to think that Lady Mabel
+Wynch-Fr�re had a right to hold opinions--a right conferred on her by
+that mystic handle to her name, which sanctioned an eccentricity that
+would have been unpardonable in any woman less strongly backed up--any
+woman supported by a social position less unquestionable.
+
+Moreover, they could not but be sensible that the sojourn of this star
+of fashion at Edge Willoughby would set all the neighborhood talking,
+and that to them would be assigned, for a time at least, all the local
+importance they could possibly desire. Her ladyship's heresies were more
+than condoned, in consideration of her ladyship's consequence.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER X.
+
+                                ... For me,
+    Perhaps I am not worthy, as you say,
+    Of work like this; perhaps a woman's soul
+    Aspires, and not creates; yet we aspire...
+
+                                        ... I,
+    Who love my art, would never wish it lower
+    To suit my stature. I may love my art,
+    You'll grant that even a woman may love art,
+    Seeing that to waste true love on anything
+    Is womanly, past question.
+
+    E. B. BROWNING.
+
+
+The heat of the blazing day was just beginning to be tempered with light
+puffs of sea-scented air as the sun declined, when the Honorable Claud
+Cranmer stepped upon the platform at Stanton, and asked the
+station-master if the London train were due.
+
+"Yes, it was--just signalled from Coryton;" and Claud, after the manner
+of his race, put his hands behind him, wrinkled up his eyelids on
+account of the sun, and gazed away along the flat marshy valley of the
+Ashe river, to catch the first glimpse of the approaching train.
+
+On the other side of the sandy river mouth lay the little old village of
+Ashemouth, picturesquely nestling at the foot of the tall cliff. It was
+a pretty view, but not to be compared at all with the beauty of Edge
+Combe.
+
+"I do hope the young lady will arrive," soliloquised the young man. "The
+poor fellow ought to have some one with him who knows him. I only wish I
+could hit upon some clue to the mystery; it's the most baffling thing!"
+
+He sighed, and then he yawned vigorously, for he had been up the greater
+part of the night, and he was a person whom it did not suit to have his
+rest disturbed. The village nurse had been quite inadequate to the task
+of holding poor Allonby in his bed, and so had aroused "the gentleman"
+at about two, since when he had only had an hour's nap. The day had been
+most distressing. Lady Mabel had sent Joseph, the coachman, into Stanton
+for ice, which he had obtained with difficulty, but it seemed as if
+nothing would abate the fierce heat in that sick-chamber, they longed
+for cool wind and cloudy skies to obscure the brilliant weather in which
+the haymakers were so rejoicing. As the fever grew higher, Dr. Forbes'
+face grew graver, and it was with a sickening dislike to being the
+bearer of such tidings that Claud set out for the station to meet the
+patient's sister, and drive her up to the farm.
+
+The train appeared at last, curving its dark bulk along the gleaming
+metals with the intense deliberation which marks the pace of all trains
+on branch lines of the South-Western.
+
+"No need to hurry oneself this hot weather," the engine appeared to be
+saying, comfortably, while Claud was feverishly thinking how much hung
+on every moment. He had formed no pre-conceived idea as to what Miss
+Allonby's exterior would be like. His eyes dwelt anxiously on the
+somewhat numerous female figures which emerged from the carriage doors.
+Most of them were mammas and nurses, with two or three small children in
+striped cotton petticoats, whose cheeks looked sadly in want of the
+fresh salt air of Stanton.
+
+At last he became aware of a girl, who he guessed might be the one he
+sought for, merely because he could not see anyone else who could
+possibly answer to that description.
+
+This girl must have alighted from the train with great celerity, for her
+portmanteau had already been produced from the van and laid beside her.
+She was rather tall and particularly slight--somewhat thin, in fact. She
+wore a dust-colored tweed suit very plainly made, and a helmet-shaped
+cap of the same cloth. Her face was pale, with an emphasis in the
+outline of the chin which faintly recalled her handsomer brother. Her
+eyes were keen, and her expression what Americans call intense.
+
+She was walking towards Mr. Cranmer, but her gaze was fixed on a porter
+who stood just behind him.
+
+"Is there a cart or anything in waiting to take me to Poole Farm?" she
+asked, with the thin clearness of voice and purity of accent belonging
+to London girls. Claud stepped forward, raising his cap.
+
+"I'm afraid I can't lay claim to being a _cart_," he said, modestly,
+"but perhaps you would kindly include me in your definition of a
+_thing_. I am in waiting to take you to Poole Farm."
+
+An amused look broke over the girl's face, a look not of surprise but of
+arrested interest; in a moment it changed, a shadow fell on the eyes as
+if a cloud swept by, she made a step forward and spoke breathlessly.
+
+"You come from Poole Farm? What news do you bring me of my brother?"
+
+Claud felt a sudden movement of most unnecessary emotion; there was such
+a feverish, pathetic force in the question, and in the expression of the
+mouth which asked it, that he was conscious of an audible falter in his
+voice, as he replied, as hopefully as he could:
+
+"Mr. Allonby has had a very bad accident, it is folly not to tell you
+that at once. He is very ill, but the doctor says he has a fine
+constitution, and hopes that everything--that all--in short, that he'll
+pull through all right. You will want to reach him as quickly as
+possible. Will you come this way, please?"
+
+He hurriedly took her travelling-bag from her, not looking at her face,
+lest he should see tears; and hastened out of the station to where
+Joseph stood with the trap.
+
+By the servant's side stood an unclassified looking man of quiet
+appearance, and plain, unostentatious dress. As Mr. Cranmer approached
+he stepped forward and touched his hat.
+
+"Mr. Dickens, sir, from Scotland Yard," he said, in a low voice.
+
+"Oh, ah! Yes, of course. You came down by this train. Just get on the
+box, will you, and we will take you straight to the scene of the
+tragedy, as I suppose all the newspapers will have it to-morrow," and
+Claud motioned Joseph to his seat with a hurried injunction "to look
+sharp." When he turned again to Miss Allonby, she was quite quiet and
+composed. Nobody could have guessed that she had received any news that
+might shock her. "Wasting my pity, after all, it seems," thought Claud,
+as he helped her into the carriage. "I hope you will excuse my driving
+up with you," he said, as he took his place beside her. "It's a good
+long walk, and I'm anxious to be back as fast as possible."
+
+"I can only thank you most sincerely for taking so much trouble on our
+account," she answered, at once, "and I should be so grateful if you
+would tell me something of what has happened. I am quite in the dark,
+and--the suspense is oppressive."
+
+"I shall be only too glad to help you in any way," he said, with one of
+his deft little bows, which always conveyed an impression of finished
+courtesy. "You are Miss Allonby, I presume?"
+
+"Yes--and you?"
+
+"My name's Cranmer, and I am a total stranger to your brother, whom I
+have never seen but in a state of perfect unconsciousness."
+
+He proceeded to relate to her all the incidents of the eventful
+yesterday.
+
+She listened with an interest which was visible but controlled, and with
+perfect self-possession. Her eyes rested on his face all the while he
+was speaking--not with any disagreeable persistency, but with a simple
+frank desire to comprehend everything--not the mere words alone, but any
+such shade of meaning as looks and expression can give.
+
+With his habit of close observation, Claud studied her as he spoke, and
+by the end of his narration had catalogued her features and attributes
+with the accuracy which was an essential part of him. There are men to
+whom girls are in some sense a mystery, who take in dreamy and
+comprehensive ideas of them, surrounded by a little idealization or
+fancy of their own, these could never tell you what a woman wore, how
+her dress was cut, not even the arrangement of her front hair--that all
+important detail!--nor the color of her eyes or size of her hands. It is
+to be conjectured that a certain loss of illusion might result to these
+men when, on being married, they find themselves unavoidably in close
+proximity to one of these heretofore mistily contemplated divinities,
+and by slow degrees make the inevitable discovery that their "phantom of
+delight" eats, drinks, sleeps, brushes her hair, and dresses and
+undresses in as mundane a fashion as their own.
+
+Claud Cranmer, though doubtless he lost much delight by never
+surrounding womanhood with a halo of unreality, yet would certainly be
+spared any such lowering of a preconceived ideal, since he took stock in
+a detailed and matter-of-fact way of every woman he met, and by the time
+Miss Allonby and he reached Poole Farm could have handed in a report as
+cool and unpoetically worded as Olivia's description of herself--"_Item_
+two lips, indifferent red--_item_ two grey eyes with lids to them."
+
+But his companion's eyes were not grey, they were hazel and were the
+only feature of her face meriting to be called handsome. As before
+stated, she was pale, and had the air of being overworked--though this
+might be partially the result of a long and hurried journey. Her skin
+was fair and pure, with an appearance of delicacy, by which term is here
+meant refinement, not ill health. Her impassive critic observed that her
+ears were small and well-set, that the shape of her head was good, her
+teeth white and even, and her eyelashes long, she had no claims at all
+to be considered beautiful, or even what is called a pretty girl--which
+being stated, the reader will doubtless rush at once to the conclusion
+that she was plain, which was far from the case. It was just such a face
+as scarcely two people would be agreed upon. One might find it
+interesting, another complain that it was hatchetty, the former would
+admire the clean-cut way of the features, the latter gloomily prophecy
+nut-crackers for old age, and lament over angular shoulders and sharp
+elbows.
+
+It was not a face which attracted Claud. He was an admirer of beauty,
+and preferred it with a certain admixture of consciousness, he liked a
+woman's eyes to meet his with a full knowledge of the fact that they
+were of opposite sexes. He had a weakness for pretty figures, cased in
+dresses which were a miracle of cut; though of course the wearer must be
+more than an ornamental clothes-peg: he was too intelligent to admire a
+nonentity.
+
+Miss Allonby's dress was not badly cut, neither was it put on without
+some idea of the way clothes should be worn; but it was shabby, and had
+evidently never been costly. Her gloves, too, fitted her, and were the
+right sort of glove, but they were old and much soiled. Her shoes gave
+evidence that her foot was not too large for her height, and her hands,
+as Claud mentally noted, _were size six and a quarter_. Her face wore an
+expression which can only be described as preoccupied. Of course it was
+natural that on this particular day she should be thinking only of her
+brother; but her new acquaintance had penetration enough to know that
+there was more than a temporary anxiety in her eyes. Had he met her on
+any other day, under any other circumstances, it would have been the
+same; he was merely a passing event--something which was in no sense
+part of the life she was leading. She seemed to convey in some
+indescribable fashion the fact that he was not of the slightest
+importance to her, and the idea inspired a wholly unreasonable sensation
+of irritation.
+
+An unmarried doctor once somewhat coarsely engaged to point out all the
+portraits of unmarried women in a photographic album, on the theory that
+the countenance of all those who are single wears an expression of
+unsatisfied longing. Wyn Allonby's face would hardly have come under
+this heading. Hers was not a happy nor a perfectly contented look, but
+neither could it be said in any sense to express longing. It was the
+look of one who has much serious work to do, the doing of which involves
+anxiety, but also brings interest and pleasure--a brave, thoughtful,
+preoccupied look, more suggestive of a middle-aged man of science than a
+young girl.
+
+Claud found something indirectly unflattering in such an expression; he
+liked to have the female mind entirely at his disposal, _pro tem_. Her
+age, too, puzzled him; it was necessarily provoking to such an adept to
+find himself unable to decide this point within five years. She might be
+twenty-one, and looking older, or she might be twenty-five, and looking
+younger, or she might claim any one of the three intermediate dates.
+
+When he had told her all that there was to tell, he relapsed into silent
+speculation on these important points, now inclining to think that a
+life of hardship had made her prematurely self-possessed, now that her
+peculiarly unconscious temperament gave an air of fictitious youth. He
+would have liked to ask her some questions, or, rather, deftly to
+extract from her a few details as to who she was and what were her
+circumstances. But Miss Allonby gave him no opening. She was silent
+without being shy, which is certainly undue presumption in a woman.
+
+Her first words seemed to be extorted from her almost by force.
+
+They had left Stanton far behind. The distance from thence to Edge Combe
+was said to be about five miles; but these miles were not horizontal,
+but perpendicular, which somehow tended to increase their length
+considerably. They had climbed gradually but continuously for some time
+between tall hedges, up a lane remarkable only for its monotony; thence
+they had emerged, not without gratitude, into the Philmouth Road. This
+was a wide highway, somewhat indefinite as to its edges, which were
+fringed irregularly with hart's-tongue and other ferns, or clumped with
+low brambles bearing abundant promise of a future blackberry harvest. On
+either side a row of ragged and onesided pine-trees, stooping as if
+perpetually cringing before the stinging blows of the wild sou'-westers,
+which had so tortured them from their youth up that they habitually
+leaned one way, like children whose minds are warped from their natural
+bent by undue influence in one direction.
+
+Behind these trees the sky was beginning to flame with sunset, making
+their uncouth forms stand out weirdly dark in the still air.
+
+For a short way they drove quietly along this road, then turned down a
+precipitous lane to the left, and wound along till a white gate was
+reached. Mr. Dickens from Scotland Yard jumped down and opened the gate;
+and as the carriage went slowly through, and turned a corner, the effect
+was like a transformation scene, and a cry of wondering admiration broke
+from the silent girl.
+
+They stood on the very edge and summit of a descent so steep as to be
+almost a precipice. Below them lay the fairy valley, half-hidden in a
+pearly mist, with a vivid stretch of deep-blue sea as its horizon. Well
+in evidence lay Poole Farm, directly beneath them, a sluggish wreath of
+smoke curling lazily up from its great chimney. The road curved to and
+fro down the abrupt hillside like a white folded ribbon, here visible,
+there lost behind a belt of ash trees.
+
+"How beautiful," said Wynifred,--"how beautiful it is!"
+
+The rest of evening was over it all--over the tiny, ancient grey church
+far, far away towards the valley's mouth; over the peaceable red cows
+which lay meditatively here and there among the grass; over the
+sun-burnt group of laborers, who, their day's mowing done, were slowly
+making their way down to their hidden cottages, with fearless eyes of
+Devon blue turned on the strangers and their carriage.
+
+"What splendid terra-cotta-colored people!" said Miss Allonby, following
+them with her appreciative gaze. Mr. Cranmer was unable to help
+laughing. "They are a delicate shade of the red-brown of the cliffs,"
+said the girl, dreamily. "How full of color everything is!"
+
+Her companion mentally echoed the remark: it was the concise expression
+of a thought which in him had been only vague. She was right,--it was
+the color, the strange glow of grass, and cliffs, and sea, which so
+impressed eyes accustomed only to the "pale, unripened beauties of the
+north."
+
+"That is Poole Farm, right beneath us," he said. "It is not so near as
+it looks."
+
+"Oh, if I were only there!" she burst out; and then was suddenly still,
+as if ashamed of her involuntary cry.
+
+"Get on as fast you can, Joseph," said Mr. Cranmer, and felt himself
+unaccountably obliged to sit so as not to see the pale face beside him,
+nor to pity the evident force which she found it necessary to employ to
+avoid a complete break-down.
+
+When at last they stopped at the farm-yard gate, and he had helped her
+out, and seen her tall, slight figure disappear swiftly within the
+house, he experienced a relaxation of mental tension which was, he told
+himself, greatly out of proportion to the occasion; and, strolling into
+the big kitchen, was sensible of a quite absurd throb of relief when he
+heard that Dr. Forbes hoped his patient was just a little better.
+
+"It is strange how people vary," he reflected. "I have met two girls,
+one to-day, one yesterday, neither of whom is in the smallest degree
+like any girl I ever saw before."
+
+By which it will be inferred that his acquaintance with modern
+developments of girlhood had been limited pretty much to one particular
+class of society. The girl art-student he had never met in any of her
+varieties; and this opportunity of contemplating a new class, of
+perusing a fresh chapter in his favorite branch of study, was by no
+means without its charm.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XI.
+
+    The clouds that gather round the setting sun
+    Do take a sober coloring from an eye
+    That hath kept watch o'er man's mortality;
+    Another race hath been, and other palms are won.
+    Thanks to the human heart by which we live,
+    Thanks to its tenderness, its joys and fears,
+    To me the meanest flower that blows can give
+    Thoughts that do often lie too deep for tears.
+
+    WORDSWORTH.
+
+
+The mellow coloring of the third evening which Claud Cranmer had spent
+at Poole Farm was inundating the valley with its warm floods of light.
+
+He was leaning meditatively against the stile which led from the farm
+garden to the Waste, and his eyes were fixed on the stretch of summer
+sea which, like a crystal gate, barred the entrance to the Combe. His
+thoughts were busy with a two-fold anxiety--partly for the man who lay
+fighting for life in the farmhouse behind him, partly concerning the
+mystery which attended his fate.
+
+Mr. Dickens of Scotland Yard had so far succeeded in discovering merely
+what everybody knew before, and was in a state of complete bewilderment
+which, he begged them to believe, was a most unusual circumstance in his
+professional career. The mystery of the pudding-basin and the blue
+dishcloth was as amazing and as incomprehensible to him as it was to
+William Clapp himself and his scared "missus."
+
+The good people of the district were sensible of a speedy dwindling of
+courage and hope, when it became evident that the London detective could
+see no farther through a brick wall than they could.
+
+They did long to have the stigma lifted from their district by the
+discovery that the murderer had been a stranger, an outlander, anybody
+but a native of Edge Combe; but, if Mr. Dickens had an opinion at all in
+the matter, it was that he was inclined to believe the crime perpetrated
+by some one who knew where to find his victim, and had probably walked
+out of the village purposely to give him his quietus. But why? What
+possible animus could any dweller in the valley have against the
+inoffensive young artist? The detective was privately certain that the
+entire motive for this affair must be looked for under the surface.
+
+"It's probable," said he to Mr. Cranmer, "that the victim himself is the
+only person likely to tell us anything about it. If he has enemies, it
+is to be supposed that he knew it. Mrs. Clapp has told us that he burnt
+a letter he received. That letter may have contained a warning which he
+thought fit to disregard. I have tried to make Mrs. Clapp recall any
+particulars she may have noticed as to its appearance, handwriting, or
+post-mark. But she seems to have noticed nothing; these rustics are very
+unobservant. I should like to ask Miss Allonby a few questions. She
+might be able to give us a clue."
+
+But Miss Allonby, being summoned, could not help them in the least.
+
+She came down from her brother's sick-room, with a tranquil composed
+manner, which encouraged Mr. Dickens to hope great things of her. She
+seated herself in one of the big kitchen chairs, and looked straight at
+him.
+
+"You want to ask me something?" said she.
+
+Claud spoke to her.
+
+"Yes," he said, "we want to ask you certain personal questions which
+would be very rude if we had not a strong warrant for them. I am sure
+you are as anxious as we are that the mystery of your brother's accident
+should be cleared up?"
+
+"Oh, yes," said Wyn.
+
+"Well, Mr. Dickens thinks that the motive we have to search for was a
+good deal deeper than mere robbery; he wants to know if Mr. Allonby had
+enemies. Do you know of anyone who wished him ill?"
+
+"No, certainly I don't," she replied at once. "Osmond is a most
+good-natured fellow, he never quarrels with a creature--he is too lazy
+to quarrel, I think. I don't know of a single enemy we have."
+
+"Will you tell me your brother's motive in coming down here to Edge
+Combe?"
+
+"Certainly. He came here to sketch. He had sold his landscapes at the
+Institute very well, and a friend of the gentleman who bought them
+wanted two in the same style. Osmond thought a change to the country
+would do him good. An artist friend of ours recommended Edge Combe, and
+so he came here."
+
+"Do you know the friend who recommended Edge Combe?"
+
+A slight hint of extra color rose in the girl's cheeks.
+
+"Yes, I know him; he is a Mr. Haldane, a student in the Academy
+Schools."
+
+"On good terms with your brother?"
+
+"Yes, of course; but he knows my sister Jacqueline better than he knows
+Osmond."
+
+"Would he be likely to write to Mr. Allonby?"
+
+"No, I hardly think so. He never has, that I know of. He sent the
+address of the inn on a postcard. Mrs. Clapp would know him--he stayed
+here several weeks last year."
+
+The detective pondered.
+
+"You are sure there was no quarrel--no jealousy--nothing that
+could----"
+
+"What, between my brother and Mr. Haldane? The idea is quite absurd.
+They are only very slightly acquainted, and Osmond is at least six years
+older than he is!"
+
+"Will you tell me, on your honor, whether you yourself can account in
+any way at all for what has occurred? Had you any reason whatever to
+think it likely such a thing might happen? Or were you absolutely and
+utterly horrified and surprised by such news?"
+
+"I was horrified and surprised beyond measure; so were my sisters. We
+are as much in the dark about the matter as you can possibly be. I can
+offer no guess or conjecture on the subject; it is quite inexplicable to
+me."
+
+"And you would think it quite folly to connect it in any way with Mr.
+Haldane?"
+
+She laughed rather contemptuously.
+
+"I'm afraid, even if he did cherish a secret grudge, Mr. Haldane is not
+rich enough to employ paid agents to do his murders for him; and, as he
+was at work in the R.A. schools when the crime was committed, it does
+seem to me unlikely, to say the least of it, that he had anything to do
+with the matter. What can make you think he had?"
+
+"Merely," answered the detective, somewhat confused, "that in these
+cases sometimes everything hangs on what seems such a trifling bit of
+evidence; and as you said this gentleman recommended your brother to
+come to this particular place----"
+
+"You thought he had an _arri�re pens�e_. I am afraid you are quite
+wrong. I cannot see how Mr. Haldane could possibly serve any ends of his
+own by compassing my brother's destruction," she said, evidently with
+ironical gravity. "Besides, I hardly think that either he or his agent
+would have troubled to carry away an empty basin as a momento of the
+deed."
+
+"The people all declare that no stranger passed through the village on
+that day," put in Claud.
+
+"No; and none of the inhabitants walked out towards the farm in the
+afternoon except Miss Brabourne and her maid. I have ascertained that
+past a doubt. I don't see any daylight nowhere," said poor Mr. Dickens,
+becoming ungrammatical in his despair.
+
+Claud could not but echo the remark. He walked over to Edge Willoughby
+in the afternoon with the same dreary bulletin. His sister was still
+there; she was anxious not to leave till the crisis was over, and her
+hostesses were proud to keep her. Elaine he scarcely saw; she was
+practising. He declined to stay to tea, as the good ladies urgently
+invited him. With a mind less absorbed he might have found them and
+their niece most excellent entertainment for a few idle hours; but, as
+it was, he was only anxious to get back to the farm, while every hour
+might bring the final change and crisis in the young artist's condition.
+
+Was everything to remain so shrouded in mystery? he wondered. Was there
+to be no further light shed on the details of so mysterious a case?
+Would Allonby die and go down in silence to the grave, unable to name
+his murderer, or to give any hint as to the motive of so vile an
+assault? Over all these things did he ponder as he leaned against the
+stile, and saw with unseeing eyes the loveliness of the dying day change
+and deepen over the misty hollow of the valley.
+
+He looked at his watch. It was past eight o'clock, and the quiet of dusk
+was settling over everything. He wondered what was passing in the
+sick-room--he longed to be there, but did not like to go, lest he might
+disturb the privacy of a brother and sister's last moments. But he did
+wish he could persuade the pale Wynifred to take some rest--she had
+never closed her eyes during the twenty-four hours she had been at
+Poole.
+
+As these thoughts travelled through his mind, he heard a slight sound,
+and, raising his eyes, saw the subject of his meditations emerge from
+the open farmhouse door. She did not see him, and moved slowly forward,
+with her eyes fixed on the western sky. Down the little path she passed,
+and then stepped upon the grass of the little lawn, and, with a long
+sigh almost like a sob, sat down upon the turf, and buried her face in
+her hands.
+
+"Was it all over?" Claud wondered, as he stood hesitatingly by the
+stile. "Should he go to her, or should he leave her to the privacy of
+her grief?"
+
+Unable to decide, he waited a few moments, and presently saw her raise
+her head again, and look around her like one who took in for the first
+time the fact of her surroundings.
+
+Stretching her hand, she gathered some white pinks from the garden
+border and inhaled their spicy fragrance; and Claud, slowly approaching,
+diffidently crossed the grass to where she sat.
+
+"Good evening," he said, raising his hat politely.
+
+"Good evening," she said, "and good news at last. I know you will be
+glad to hear. He is sleeping beautifully. Nurse and Dr. Forbes sent me
+away to get some rest, and I came out here into this air--this reviving
+air."
+
+"You don't know how glad I am," said Claud, from the bottom of his
+heart. "I was so anxious; it seemed as if that terrible fever must wear
+him out. But he'll do well now. Let me wish you joy."
+
+"Thank you," she said, with a smile, and her eyes fixed far away on the
+distance. "I feel like thanking everyone to-night--my whole heart is
+made up of thanksgiving. You don't know what Osmond is to us girls. We
+are orphans."
+
+"Ah! indeed!" said Claud, giving a sympathetic intonation to the
+commonplace words.
+
+"Yes; the loss of him would have been----"
+
+She stopped short, and, after a pause, began to talk fast, as though the
+relaxed strain of her feelings made it imperative that she should pour
+out her heart to somebody.
+
+"I had been sitting all the afternoon with my heart full of such
+ingratitude," she said. "I felt as if all the beauty was gone out of the
+world, and all the heart out of life. You know
+
+    'The clouds that gather round the setting sun
+    Do take a sober coloring from an eye
+    That hath kept watch o'er man's mortality.'
+
+I could not help thinking of that, and of how true it was, as I watched
+the little red bits of cloud swimming in the blue, and it kept ringing
+in my head till I thought I must say it out loud--
+
+    'Another race has been, and other palms are won.'
+
+I do not want him, my brother, to win his palm yet; I wanted to look at
+sunsets with him again, and hear him enjoy this beauty as he can enjoy
+it--so thoroughly. Oh, we are very selfish in wanting to keep people we
+love on earth, when they might win their palms! But it is only human
+nature after all, you know; and I do think Osmond's life is a happy one,
+though it is so full of care."
+
+"I am sure it must be," said Claud, quietly, as he sat down on the grass
+beside her. "Life is a pleasant thing to every man who is young and has
+good health, more especially if he has love to brighten his lot. I think
+your brother a fortunate man."
+
+"You would think him a very brave one, if you knew him better."
+
+"Fortitude runs in the family, apparently."
+
+She looked at him a moment, but made no reply to his compliment; her manner seemed to convey the idea that she was rather annoyed.
+
+"I am afraid I have offended you," he said.
+
+"Oh, no," she answered, laughing a little; "only what you said gave me
+a queer feeling of helplessness. It was not true; I have no fortitude;
+but, just because you said it of me, it seemed to make it impossible
+for me to set you right, because you would have thought my denial an
+empty protestation, designed to make you say it again, with more
+decision; so I thought it better to let it drop."
+
+"Do you think we are the best judges of our own courage, or, in short,
+of our own capabilities any way?" asked Mr. Cranmer, following her
+example by gathering a few pinks and putting them in his button-hole.
+
+"I don't know; I think we ought to be--what do you think about it?"
+asked she, evidently with a genuine interest in the subject itself, and
+none to spare for Claud Cranmer.
+
+It was strange how this manner of hers non-plussed him. He was
+accustomed enough to hear girls discuss abstract topics, inward
+feelings, and the reciprocity of emotion--who in these days is not? But
+in his experience the process was always intended to serve as a delicate
+vehicle for flirtation, and however much the two people so occupied
+might generalise verbally, they always mentally referred to the secret
+feelings of their own two selves, and nobody else.
+
+He felt that Miss Allonby expected him to give a well thought out and
+adequate answer to her question, while he had been merely trifling with
+the subject, and had absolutely no intention of entering upon a serious
+discussion.
+
+He hesitated, therefore, in his reply, and at last calmly remarked that
+he believed he knew his faults, intimately--he saw so much of them; but
+that his acquaintance with his virtues was so slight that he scarcely
+knew them by sight much less by heart.
+
+She laughed, a clear fresh laugh of appreciation; but objected that this
+was not a fair answer.
+
+"But, perhaps," said she, "you are one of those who don't think it right
+to analyse their own emotions?"
+
+He shrugged his shoulders.
+
+"I don't know about thinking it right," he said. "Of course I have to do
+it, or pretend to do it, if I don't wish to be voted a fool by everyone
+I meet. And that reminds me, I have discovered, here in these wilds, a
+young lady who never even heard of the current topics of the day--who,
+far from dissecting the sentiments of her inmost being, does not even
+know herself the possessor of such a morbid luxury as an inmost being.
+You ought to see her; she is the most curious sample of modern young
+lady-hood it was ever my lot to meet. She has the mind and manners of
+an intelligent girl of ten; my sister tells me she is nineteen, but I
+really can scarcely believe it. She lives with some maiden aunts who
+have brought her to this pass between them. My sister is enthusiastic
+about her, and most anxious to have the pleasing task of teaching this
+backward young idea how to shoot. If she is as free from the follies as
+she is from the graces of girlhood, she is certainly unique."
+
+"You make me very anxious to see her. She must be like one of Walter
+Besant's heroines--Phyllis, in the "Golden Butterfly," or one of those.
+I have often wondered if such a girl existed. Is she charming?"
+
+"N--no. I don't think I could truthfully say I thought so; and yet she
+has all the makings of a beauty in her; but you can't attempt
+conversation--she wouldn't understand a word you said. She has seen
+nothing, heard nothing, read nothing. That last remark is absolutely,
+not relatively true; she really has read nothing. It gives, one an
+oppressive sense of responsibility; one has to pick one's words, for
+fear of being the first to suggest evil to such a primeval mind."
+
+Wyn laughed softly, and took a deliberate look at him as he lay on the
+turf. He had put up his arms over his head, and looked very contented
+and a good deal amused. He enjoyed chattering to a girl who had some
+sense, and was for the moment almost prepared to pardon the paleness and
+thinness, and even the unconsciousness of his companion, which latter
+characteristic affected him far the most seriously of the three.
+
+"Most undeveloped heroines turn out very charming when some one takes
+them in hand, and sophisticates them," said the girl. "I wonder if your
+discovery would do the same?"
+
+"I can't say. She has a very fine complexion," said Claud,
+inconsequently. "Her skin is rather the color of that pinky reach of sky
+yonder. What a night it is! It feels like Gray's elegy to me. I wonder
+if you know what I mean?"
+
+"Yes, I know. What an amount of quotations come swarming to one's mind
+on such a night! It is a consolation, I think, in the midst of one's own
+utter inadequacy to express one's feelings, to feel that some one else
+has done it for you so beautifully as Gray."
+
+A step behind them on the gravel, and, turning quickly, Wyn beheld Dr.
+Forbes.
+
+"Get up, young woman, get up this minute. I sent you to rest, not to
+come and amuse this young sprig of nobility with your conversation. Very
+nice for him, I've no manner of doubt; but, nice or not, you've got to
+bid him good-night and go to bed."
+
+Wyn rose at once, but attempted to plead.
+
+"I have been resting, doctor, indeed--drinking in this lovely air. I had
+to go out of doors--one must always go out of doors when one is feeling
+strongly, I think--roofs are so in the way. I wanted to look right up as
+far as that one star, and to send my heart up as far as my eyes could
+reach!"
+
+The doctor looked down at the face raised to him--pale with watching,
+but alive with happiness.
+
+"I'm of the opinion, Miss Allonby," said he, with a mouth sterner than
+his eyes, "that if the Honorable Claud Cranmer finds you so interesting
+when you're worn out with waking and fasting, you'll be simply
+irresistible after a good night's rest."
+
+The girl had vanished almost before this dreadful remark was concluded.
+The doctor chuckled as he watched her flight.
+
+"There's girls and girls," he remarked, sententiously; "some take to
+their heels when you joke them about the men. Some don't. I thought
+she'd go."
+
+"I had rather," said Claud, nettled, "that you indulged your humor at
+anyone's expense but mine."
+
+"Oh, that'll never hurt you," said the doctor, placidly, rubbing his
+eye-glasses with his red silk handkerchief, "nor her either. Young
+people get so fine-drawn and finikin now-a-days."
+
+Claud smiled.
+
+"I perceive, doctor, that you do not hold with the modern ideas
+concerning introspection. You are a refreshing exception. I regret that
+I was born a generation too late to adopt your habits of thought."
+
+"Habits of thought! Why, t'would trouble you mighty little to adopt all
+I've got," was the genial reply. "I've avoided all habits of thought all
+my life, and that's what makes me so useful a man. I just think what I
+think without referring to any book to tell me which way to begin.
+Hoot! I'd never think on tram-lines, as you do: I go clean across
+country, that's my way, and I'm bound to get to the end long before you,
+in your coach-and-four.
+
+"Yes," conceded Claud, "I expect you would; that is, if you didn't come
+a cropper on the way."
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XII.
+
+    A low cottage in a sunny bay
+    Where the salt sea innocuously breaks,
+    And the sea-breeze as innocently breathes
+    On Devon's leafy shores.
+
+    WORDSWORTH.
+
+
+"May I come in, Miss Willoughby? My brother is here, and has brought
+good news from Poole."
+
+"Come in, pray, Lady Mabel; and Mr. Cranmer too," said Ellen, raising
+herself eagerly on her couch. "Tell me all about this good news. Mr.
+Allonby will live?"
+
+"He will live, and is doing finely," said Claud, shaking hands with the
+invalid. "He has recognised his sister this morning, and spoken several
+coherent sentences. Dr. Forbes is much elated, and I must say I am
+greatly relieved; it would have been very tragic had he not recovered."
+
+"I am deeply thankful," said Miss Ellen, with a sympathetic moisture in
+her eyes. "How delighted his sister must be!"
+
+"She is. I fancy, from what I can gather, that she and her sisters are
+quite dependent on their brother; she told me they were orphans."
+
+"Poor children!" said Lady Mabel, in her impulsive way. "It would have
+been terrible had it ended fatally. I feel quite a weight lifted from my
+mind. Miss Willoughby, I must express to you my hearty thanks for having
+been so long troubled with me. I have sent Joseph into Stanton with a
+telegram telling Edward to come and fetch me, as Claud does not seem
+inclined to come back to London just yet awhile."
+
+"I want to try to get a clue to this affair before I go," said Claud,
+"for it has piqued my curiosity most amazingly. The fellow from Scotland
+Yard has quite made up his mind that we shall get the whole truth from
+Mr. Allonby's own lips; I'm inclined to think he must be right; but, of
+course, one can't torment the poor fellow about it while he is so weak."
+
+"How very reserved Englishmen are!" burst out Lady Mabel. "All of them
+are alike! Claud tells me that this Miss Allonby knows absolutely
+nothing of her brother's affairs, though, from what she said, they seem
+to be on the most confidential terms. She had never heard that he had an
+enemy. Claud, my dear boy, draw a moral from this sad story. Write the
+names and addresses of your secret foes upon a slip of paper, seal it in
+an envelope, and give it to me, not to be opened till you are discovered
+mysteriously murdered in an unfrequented spot."
+
+"A good idea, that, Mab," responded Claud, cheerfully, "and one that I
+shall certainly act upon. How would it be if I were to add a few
+memoranda to every name, hinting at the means of murder most likely to
+be employed by each? So that if I were knocked down with a cudgel, you
+might lay it to Smith; if prussic acid were employed, it would most
+likely be Jones; while a pistol-shot could be confidently ascribed as
+Robinson. Save the detectives a lot of trouble that way."
+
+"Oh, how can you jest on such a subject!" said Miss Ellen,
+reproachfully.
+
+The brother and sister were abashed, and Claud at once apoligised in his
+neat way.
+
+"We're Irish, you know, we must laugh or die," he said. "Only an Irish
+mind could have evolved the idea of a wake; they feast at their funerals
+because the sources of their laughter and their tears lie so close
+together, if they didn't do the one they must do the other. I am so
+relieved this morning--such a load's off my mind. Faith! if I didn't
+talk nonsense, I'd explode, as sure as a gun."
+
+"Bottle up your nonsense a bit, my boy, for the ears of one who's more
+used to it than Miss Willoughby," said Lady Mabel, patting him on the
+head admonishingly. "It's been something quite out of his line," she
+went on, explanatorily, "these last few days of anxiety and gravity. It
+has told upon him, poor fellow, and he must let off some steam. I am
+going to walk up to Poole with him, if you'll allow it, to call upon
+Miss Allonby. May we take Elsa with us?"
+
+Lady Mabel had shortened Elaine's name into Elsa, because she declared
+her to be like the Elsa of the old German myth.
+
+"She has just the expression," she said, "which I should imagine to have
+been worn by Elsa of Brabant, before the appearance of the champion on
+the scene. She has an unprotected appealing look, as if she were
+imploring some one to take her part. If I could get her to London she
+would not long appeal in vain."
+
+Elsa worshipped Lady Mabel, as it was natural she should; and the idea
+of a visit to London being held out to her had caused such excitement as
+prevented her sleeping and almost bereft her of appetite. Every turn of
+their visitor's head, every sweep of her tasteful draperies, every puff
+of the faint delicate perfume she used, every tone of her deep vibrating
+voice was as the wave of an enchanter's wand to the bewildered girl. She
+looked now with aching misery on her own ill-cut, misfitting garments;
+she pondered with sharp misgivings over her face in the glass, as she
+remembered the thick artistic sweep of Lady Mabel's loose grey hair, as
+it made dark soft shadows over those mysterious, never-silent eyes. A
+passion of discontent, of longing, of unnamed desire was sweeping like a
+summer storm over the girl's waking heart and mind. The feminine
+impulses in her were all arousing. Slowly and imperfectly she was
+learning that she was a woman.
+
+With the strange reticence which she had imbibed from her bringing up,
+she mentioned none of this. Lady Mabel had very little idea of the
+seething waves of feeling which every look and smile of hers was
+agitating afresh. She talked to the girl on various subjects, to be
+surprised anew at every venture by the intense and childish ignorance
+displayed; but on the subjects which were just then paramount in
+Elaine--dress, personal appearance, love--of these she never touched,
+and so never succeeded in striking a spark from the smouldering
+intelligence. It was Miss Charlotte who most noted a difference in her
+pupil.
+
+In the old days, when the girl first came Edge, she had been the
+possessor of a temper which was furious in its paroxysms. This temper
+the combined aunts had set themselves soberly to subdue and to
+eradicate. They had succeeded admirably as far as the subduing went; no
+ebullition was ever seen; rebellion was as much a thing of the past as
+the Star Chamber or the Inquisition; but as regards eradication they had
+not succeeded at all.
+
+In some dumb indescribable way, Miss Charlotte was now made by her pupil
+to feel this daily. In her looks and words, but chiefly in her manner,
+was an unspoken defiance. She still came when she was called, but she
+came slowly; she still answered when spoken to, but her manner was
+impertinent, if not her words. She was altered, and the fact of not
+being able to define the change made Miss Charlotte irritable.
+
+Poor lady! she sat stewing in the hot school-room, hearing Elaine read
+French with praiseworthy patience and fortitude, little thinking how
+entirely a work of supererogation such patience was, nor how much more
+salutary it would have been for both if, instead of goading her own and
+her niece's endurance to its last ebb over the priggish observations of
+a lady named Madame Melville--who gave her impossible daughter bad
+advice in worse French with a persistency which would certainly have
+moved said daughter to suicide had she not been, as has been said,
+impossible--if instead of this Miss Charlotte had taken Elsa to see the
+world around her, the pleasant, wholesome world of rural England, with
+its innocuous society, its innocent delights, its tennis-parties and
+archery meetings, its picnics and pretty cool dresses, and light-hearted
+expeditions. Above all, its youthfulness.
+
+To be young with the young--that was what this poor Elsa needed. That
+was what her aunts could not understand, and they could not see,
+moreover, what consequences might spring from this well-intentioned
+ignorance of theirs.
+
+Says Mrs. Ewing, who perhaps best of all Englishwomen understood English
+girlhood:
+
+"Girls' heads are not like jam-pots, which, if you do not fill them,
+will remain empty."
+
+Every girl's head will be full of something. It is for her parents and
+guardians--spite of Mr. Herbert Spencer--to decide what the filling
+shall be.
+
+Nothing of this recked Elaine's instructress, as she sat with frowning
+brow and compressed mouth, listening while the intolerable Madame
+Melville accosted her daughter thus:
+
+"You are happy in your comparisons this morning, and express them pretty
+well."
+
+In dreary monotone and excruciatingly English accent the girl read on,
+as the obsequious dancing master wished to know.
+
+"Vous ne voulez point que je la fasse valser?"
+
+"Non," replied his prophetic patroness, "je suis persuadee que cette
+mode n'est pas faite pour durer!"
+
+And this volume bore date 1851.
+
+To waltz! The very word had a secret charm for Elaine. What was this
+waltzing? she ignorantly wondered. Something pleasant it must have been,
+as Madame Melville declined to allow poor Lucy to learn it, and her
+meditations grew so interesting that she lost her place on the dreary
+page, and was only recalled to the present by Miss Charlotte's irritable
+tones:
+
+"I am sure I cannot think what has come over you, Elaine! You seem quite
+unable to fix your attention on anything."
+
+Meanwhile, upstairs in Miss Ellen's room, Elaine was the subject of
+conversation.
+
+"May we take your Elsa with us on our walk to Poole? She will like to
+see Miss Allonby?" Lady Mabel suggested, instigated thereto by a hint
+from Claud that he should like to renew the acquaintance of the Sleeping
+Beauty in the Wood.
+
+"If you could wait half an hour--Charlotte does not like her hours
+interfered with," said Miss Ellen, deprecatingly. "She will be free at
+four o'clock."
+
+"Does Miss Brabourne never take a holiday?" asked Claud, tracing
+patterns with his stick on the carpet.
+
+"Well--not exactly. She is not hard worked, I think," said Miss Ellen,
+feeling bound to support the family theory of education, in spite of her
+own decided mistrust of it. "It is very bad for a young girl to have
+nothing to occupy her time with--my sister considers some regularity so
+essential."
+
+"I should have thought," Lady Mabel was unable to resist saying, "that a
+young woman of nineteen could have arranged her time for herself, if she
+had been properly taught the responsibilities of life."
+
+The wavering pink flush stole over the invalid's kind face.
+
+"I am afraid we middle-aged women forget the flight of years," she said,
+with gentle apology. "To us, Elaine is still the child she was when she
+came to us twelve years ago."
+
+"It's most natural," said Claud. "Will Miss Brabourne always live with
+you? I remember, when Colonel Brabourne died, hearing that the terms of
+the will were confused, or that there was some mess about it. Was not
+the estate thrown into Chancery? I hope it is not rude of me to ask?"
+
+"Not at all," answered Ellen, "I should be really glad to talk over the
+child's future with some one not so totally ignorant of the world as I
+am. The whole story is a painful one to me, I own, but it has to be
+faced," she added, with an effort, after a short pause; "it has to be
+faced."
+
+"Don't you say a word if you would rather not," said Lady Mabel,
+earnestly. "But if you would really like my brother's opinion, he will
+be most interested to hear what you have to say. He is a barrister, and
+might be of some use to you."
+
+The Honorable Claud grew rather red, and laughed at his sister.
+
+"Don't let Mab mislead you, Miss Willoughby," he said. "I was called to
+the Bar in the remote past, but I have never practised. Still, I learnt
+some law once, and any scraps of legal knowledge I may have retained are
+most entirely at your service."
+
+"You are very kind, and I will most willingly tell you as well as I can
+how matters stand," said Miss Ellen. "We had formerly another
+sister--Alice--she was the youngest except Emily, and she was very
+pretty."
+
+"I can well believe it," said Lady Mabel, purely for the pleasure of
+seeing Miss Willoughby's modest blush.
+
+"In those days," she went on, "we went every year to London for the
+months of May and June; my father was alive, you understand, and he
+always took us. There we met Colonel Brabourne, and he fell in love with
+our pretty Alice. My father saw no reason against the match, except that
+he was twenty years older than she; but she did not seem to mind that,
+and was desperately in love with him. When they had been engaged only a
+few weeks, my father died very suddenly, and, as soon as the mourning
+would allow, Colonel Brabourne insisted on being married. It was a very
+quiet wedding, of course, and there were no settlements of any
+kind--nothing that there should have been. Everything was very hurried;
+his regiment was just ordered to India, he wished her to accompany him;
+we knew nothing of business, and we had no relations at hand to do
+things for us. They were just married as soon as the banns could be
+called, and away they went to Bengal. My father left his fortune to be
+divided equally among his daughters, and secured it to their
+descendants, so that Elaine will have, in any case, more than �200 a
+year of her own; but now comes the puzzling part of the story. The
+climate of India proved fatal to my sister. She was never well after her
+marriage; and, when Elaine was born, her husband got leave to bring his
+wife and child to England, to see if it were possible to save her. It
+was not. She flagged, and drooped, and pined, and gradually we got to
+know that she was in a deep decline. It was just at this time, when her
+husband and all of us were almost crazy with anxiety, that Alice's
+godmother, a rich widow lady named Cheston, living in London, died. In
+consequence of Alice being named after her, she left her all her
+fortune--about fifty thousand pounds. This was left quite
+unconditionally.
+
+"We were all so anxious about our sister, I think we scarcely noticed
+the bequest. She died about a fortnight afterwards, leaving a little
+will, dated before she knew of this legacy, bestowing everything she
+could upon her husband, with whom, poor darling, she was madly in love,
+then and always. She was, of course, sure of his doing all he could for
+little Elaine. My experience of the world is very limited," said Miss
+Willoughby, wiping her eyes, "but I must say I think men are the most
+incomprehensible beings in creation. You would have thought that
+Valentine Brabourne was absolutely inconsolable for the loss of his
+wife. He threw up his commission, and went to live in seclusion, taking
+his baby daughter with him. We saw nothing of him."
+
+"Did he live on his wife's money?" asked Claud.
+
+"He lived on the income of it chiefly. He had very little of his own,
+besides his pay. I did not see how we could interfere. His wife's will
+left the money to him, by implication, and of course I thought it would
+be Elaine's. But when she was three years old he married again--a
+person who--who----" Miss Willoughby faltered for an expression. "Well,
+a person of whom my sisters and I could not approve. She was a Miss
+Orton, and lived with her brother, who was what they call a book-maker,
+I believe. It did seem so strange that, after mourning such a wife as
+Alice, he should suddenly write from the midst of his retirement to
+announce himself married to such a person. We did not wish to be selfish
+or unpleasant--we invited him and his wife down here, but we really
+could not repeat the experiment."
+
+Tears of pleading were in the poor lady's eyes.
+
+"I hope you will not think me narrow," she said, "I know we lead too
+isolated a life; but I could not like Mrs. Brabourne. She smoked
+cigarettes, and drank brandy and soda water. She was always reading a
+pink newspaper called the _Sporting Times_, and I think she betted on
+every horse-race that is run," said poor Miss Willoughby, vaguely. "She
+talked about Sandown and Chantilly, and other places I had never heard
+of. She never went to church, and appeared, from her conversation, to do
+more visiting and gambling on the Sunday than on any other day. She was
+a handsome young woman, with her gowns cut like a gentleman's coat. She
+drove very well, and used to wear a hard felt hat and dogskin gloves. I
+cannot say I liked her. My sisters could none of them approve. She was
+unwomanly, I cannot but think it, and I am sure she influenced her
+husband for evil. Soon after her stay here, she had a baby, but it died
+within twenty-four hours of its birth; so the next year, and the next. I
+am sure she took no proper care of herself, but when she had been four
+years married, she had a son, who did live, and was called Godfrey. Six
+months after his birth, his father was thrown in the hunting-field and
+killed. He left a will bequeathing the whole of his property--this fifty
+thousand which had been poor Alice's,--to his son Godfrey. Mrs.
+Brabourne was to have three hundred a year till her death, and a certain
+sum was set aside for the maintenance and education of both children
+till they were of age. And all this of Alice's money--our Alice! Do you
+call that a just will, Mr. Cranmer?"
+
+"I call it simple theft," said Claud, shortly; "but, if the will your
+sister left be legally valid, I don't see what you are to do in the
+matter."
+
+"So our solicitor said," sighed Miss Willoughby. "He thought we had no
+grounds at all for litigation; but I think that everyone must confess
+that it is a hard case. I wish it had been possible to throw it into
+Chancery, but it was not."
+
+"I can just remember there being some talk about it," said Lady Mabel.
+"I call it a very hard case."
+
+"If it had been half!" said Miss Willoughby. "I would not have grudged
+the boy half my sister's fortune; but that he should leave it all to
+him!"
+
+The clock struck four as she spoke, and the sound of a closing door was
+heard.
+
+"Here comes Elaine," she said. "Please mention nothing of all this to
+her. She does not know."
+
+"Does she not? Why not tell her?" asked Lady Mabel.
+
+"I thought it might set her against her brother," answered Miss Ellen,
+"or make her disrespect the memory of her father. But I cannot feel as I
+should towards the Ortons I must confess. There was something very
+underhand; something must have been done, some undue influence exerted
+to induce him to leave such a will, for I know he loved Alice as he
+never loved his second wife."
+
+"Is she alive still, the second Mrs. Brabourne?" asked Claud.
+
+"No; she died two years ago. The boy is more than twelve years old. The
+money will be worth having by the time he attains his majority; when
+Elaine is twenty-one, I shall make another effort on her behalf."
+
+"I am sure I wish you success, but I am afraid you have no case," said
+Claud, regretfully.
+
+As he spoke the door was opened, and Elaine walked in.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XIII.
+
+    Ankle-deep in English grass I leaped,
+    And clapped my hands, and called all very fair.
+
+           *       *       *       *       *
+
+    In the beginning, when God called all good,
+    Even then was evil near us, it is writ;
+    But we indeed, who call things good and fair,
+    The evil is upon us while we speak;
+    Deliver us from evil, let us pray.
+
+    AURORA LEIGH.
+
+
+As the young girl entered the room Claud Cranmer rose, with a quick
+gesture of courtesy.
+
+Elaine, not prepared to see strangers, paused, and the ingenuous morning
+flush of youth passed over her face in a wave of exquisite carmine.
+Claud thought he had never beheld anything more lovely than that
+spontaneous recognition of his presence. She had not blushed when he met
+her first--her anxiety for Allonby had been paramount. And the pale girl
+up at Poole, with the sculptured chin, never blushed at all, but looked
+at him with frank and limpid eyes as if he were entirely a matter of
+course.
+
+But for Elsa, dawn had begun; the sun was rising, and naturally the
+light was red. Oddly enough, an old country rhyme floated in Claud's
+mind--
+
+    "A red morning's a shepherd's warning."
+
+He did not know quite why he should think of such a thing, but a good
+many varying emotions were stirred in him as he scrutinised this girl
+who had so nearly escaped the inheritance of a considerable fortune.
+
+What a complexion she had! Her inexorable critic mentally compared her
+with the slim Wynifred. A throat like a slender pillar of creamy marble,
+lips to which still clung that delicate moist rose-red which usually
+evaporates with childhood, a cheek touched with a peach-like down,
+eyelashes long enough to shadow and intensify the light eyes in a manner
+most individual, but hard to describe. What a pity, what a thousand
+pities, that all this effect should be marred and lost by the cruel
+straining back of the abundant locks, and the shrouding of the
+finely-developed form in a garment which absolutely made Mr. Cranmer's
+eyes ache.
+
+The girl smiled at him--a slow smile which dawned by degrees over her
+lovely, inanimate face. The look in her eyes was enough to shake a man's
+calmness; and when she asked, "How is Mr. Allonby?" he felt that she had
+some interest to spare for Mr. Allonby's messenger.
+
+Here was a type of girlhood he could understand, for whose looks and
+smiles he could supply a motive.
+
+He watched her every moment keenly, and soon found out that her
+awkwardness was the result of diffidence and restraint, not of native
+ungainliness. He determined that Mabel must have her to stay with her,
+and civilize her. She would more than repay the trouble, he was
+confident.
+
+He saw the sudden ardent glow of pleasure succeed the restless chafing
+of suspense when at last permission was accorded for her to walk to
+Poole with Lady Mabel.
+
+"Run and put on your hat," said Miss Ellen, indulgently, and away darted
+the girl with radiant face.
+
+"Jane," she cried, bursting into the _ci-devant_ nursery where Miss
+Gollop reigned supreme, "where's my best hat--quick! I am going out with
+Lady Mabel and Mr. Cranmer!"
+
+"Your best hat's in its box, where it'll stop till Sunday," answered
+Jane, placidly. "You ain't going trapesing along the lanes in it, I can
+tell you, Lady Mabel or no Lady Mabel."
+
+"Oh, Jane, you are unkind! Do let me wear it."
+
+"You shan't wear it, Miss Elaine, and that's flat. Once take it out in
+this sun, you'll have the straw burnt as yaller as them sunflowers."
+
+"Where's my second best?" grumbled the girl, turning to the press.
+
+"On the Philmouth Road, for all I knows; at least, that's where you last
+left it, ain't it?"
+
+"And am I to go out in my garden-hat--with Lady Mabel Wynch-Fr�re?"
+cried Elaine, aghast.
+
+"I don't see no other way for it," said Jane, calmly, drawing her
+thimble down a seam to flatten it, with a rasping noise which set her
+charge's teeth on edge.
+
+"Well, Jane, I never heard of such a thing!" she burst forth after a
+pause of speechless indignation.
+
+"I can't help it, miss; I must teach you to take care of your clothes.
+You're not going flaunting over to Mrs. Battishill's in that ostrich
+feather o' yours. Maybe, next time you drop your hat in the road, you'll
+remember to pick it up again."
+
+Surely Elaine's fairy godmother spoke through the untutored lips of Jane
+Gollop!
+
+Instead of presenting herself to Claud in a headgear covered with yellow
+satin ribbon and a bright blue feather, Elsa appeared downstairs in her
+wide-brimmed garden-hat, simply trimmed with muslin; and narrowly
+escaped looking picturesque.
+
+How different was the road to Poole, now that she trod it with such
+companions! Her heart was light as air, her young spirits were all
+stretched eagerly, almost yearningly forward into the unknown country
+whose border she had crossed so lately.
+
+Her fancy played sweetly around the image of the artist-hero, her pulses
+beat a glad chime because he was living, and not dead. She waxed less
+shy, and chatted to her companions,--even daring to ask questions, a
+thing her aunts never permitted. She gave them reminiscences of her
+childish days, when she lived in London, and of a dream she had
+constantly of streets full of houses, one after another, in endless
+succession, with very few trees among them.
+
+"That is all I know of London," she said, "and I hardly remember
+anything that happened, except hearing the baby cry in the night. It was
+Godfrey. I used to wake up in my little bed, and see nurse sitting with
+the baby near the lamp, rocking him in her arms. I remember being taken
+in to kiss papa when he was dead; but that was not in London--it was
+somewhere in the country--at Fallowmead, where Godfrey's uncle has his
+racing-stud. I remember mamma; she was not my real mamma. I could not
+bear her. She used to whip me, and once I bit her in the arm."
+
+"My dear Elsa!" said Lady Mabel.
+
+"I did. I was a very naughty little girl--at least, Jane always says
+so. I remember being shut up alone for a punishment."
+
+As she spoke, they turned a bend in the road, and came in sight of the
+spot where the crime had been perpetrated.
+
+Two men stood there talking together. One was Mr. Dickens of Scotland
+Yard, the other Elsa greeted with a glad wave of the hand in greeting.
+
+"Oh," cried she, springing forward, "it's Mr. Fowler, it's my godfather!
+I did not know he had come back!"
+
+At the sound of her voice, Mr. Fowler turned round, and his face lighted
+up as she came towards him.
+
+"Why, Elsie!" he said, "there you are, my child! And I'm hearing such
+doings of yours, it makes me quite proud of you. And you, sir," he went
+on, addressing Claud, "are Mr. Cranmer, I suppose, and entitled to my
+very hearty goodwill for your behavior in this matter."
+
+Claud had heard of Mr. Fowler before, as a local justice of the place,
+and he gladly shook hands with him, scrutinizing, of course, as he did
+so, the general mien and bearing of his new acquaintance.
+
+Mr. Fowler was short, square, sturdy, and plain. His hair and thick
+short beard had once been jet black, but were now iron grey. His skin
+was exceedingly dark, almost swarthy, and his eyes, big, soft, and
+luminous, were his one redeeming feature. His manner was a curious
+mixture of gentleness and strength; he never raised his voice, but his
+first order was always instantly obeyed. Something there was about him
+which invited confidence; he was not exactly polished, yet his manner to
+women was perfect. Gentle as was his eye, it yet had a curiously
+penetrating expression, and Lady Mabel, used as she was to what should
+be the best school of breeding in England, was yet struck with the
+simplicity and repose of his address.
+
+"I only came back to Edge Combe yesterday," he said, and, though he had
+lived all his life in South Devon, Claud noticed at once that the rough
+burr of the "r" was absent from his quiet voice. "I am often absent for
+some months, on and off, managing some tin mines in Cornwall; and it was
+through the medium of the newspapers I learned what had been going
+forward in our little valley. And now, Mr. Cranmer, what do you think
+about it?"
+
+"I'm afraid I must postpone my opinion till Mr. Allonby himself has been
+questioned," said Claud.
+
+"Exactly what I've been telling Mr. Fowler," observed Mr. Dickens, who
+wore a baffled and humbled look. "Nothing can be done till Mr. Allonby
+speaks. It's a case of _vendetta_, I'll go bail; and it's done by one
+that's accustomed to the work, too; accustomed to cut the stick and
+leave no traces."
+
+"Cut the stick--the stick they knocked him down with?" asked Elsa in
+low, horrified tones.
+
+Claud smiled.
+
+"Your theory hardly holds with Dr. Forbes, Mr. Dickens," he said rather
+shortly. "He declares the blows were given by a novice--by a hand that
+didn't know where to plant his blows."
+
+"Well, I don't know what to say," snapped the detective. "Here's a man
+beat almost to death on the high-road in broad daylight; some one must
+have done it. Where is he? There ain't a trace of him. Nobody has met a
+single soul that could be taken up on suspicion--nobody has seen anybody
+as so much as looked suspicious. Miss Brabourne and her servant met
+nobody as they came along not half-an-hour afterwards. It ought to be
+some one uncommon deep, and not a tramp nor a fishy-looking party of any
+kind."
+
+All this was true. Claud was inclined to think that the detective had
+done his best, and his ill-success was owing to the very strange nature
+of the case, and not to his inability.
+
+They left him sadly ruminating by the wayside, and crossed the Waste to
+the farm, Elaine with her hand clasped tightly in the square, short,
+hard palm of her godfather.
+
+"This has been an adventure for you, little woman," he said. "What do
+the aunts say?"
+
+"They are surprised," answered she, with her usual paucity of
+vocabulary.
+
+"I should think they were! And horrified too--eh?"
+
+"Yes, very. Aunt Fan nearly had hysterics."
+
+"Poor Aunt Fan! I don't wonder. I have a great respect for the Misses
+Willoughby," he said, turning to Lady Mabel. "I have known them all my
+life."
+
+His voice seemed to soften involuntarily as he said it, and, as his eyes
+rested lingeringly on Elaine's face, Lady Mabel could not help framing
+a romance of twenty years ago, in which he and pretty Alice Willoughby
+were the leading characters; and a swift bitter thought of the
+complications of life crossed her mind. Had Alice mated with the deep
+patient love that waited for her, and chosen a home by "Devon's leafy
+shores" instead of the hot swamps of the Ganges, she had probably been a
+happy blooming wife and mother now, with the enjoyment of her
+godmother's fortune duly secured to her children.
+
+And now here stood Elsa, comparatively poor, fatherless, motherless;
+while Henry Fowler, like Philip Ray, had gone ever since "bearing a
+life-long hunger in his heart." All this, of course, was pure surmise,
+yet it seemed to invest the homely features and square figure of the
+Devonian with a halo of tender feeling in her eyes; for Lady Mabel had a
+romance of her own.
+
+"Did you have hysterics, Elsie?" asked Mr. Fowler.
+
+"No; I lost my hat," answered she, in a matter-of-fact way which made
+them all three laugh.
+
+"It was a wiser thing to do," he answered, in his quiet voice. "But the
+whole affair must have been a great shock to you, lassie."
+
+"Yes," said the girl--an inadequate, halting answer.
+
+Dimly she was feeling that that day had been not all darkness--that it
+was the beginning of life. She did not know the inviolable law of
+humanity, that no new life is born without a pang; but imperfectly she
+felt that her pain had been followed by a feeling of gladness for which
+she could not account, and that the days now were not as the days that
+had been.
+
+"What a solitude," says somebody in some book, "is every human soul." At
+that moment the solitude of Elaine Brabourne's soul was very great. She
+was standing where the brook and river met; vaguely she heard the sound
+of coming waters foaming down into the quiet valley. It awed her, but
+did not terrify. There was excitement, but no fear. And of all this
+those who walked beside her knew nothing.
+
+Henry Fowler was one of those who surround womanhood with a halo, and
+his feminine divinity had taken form and shape. It had borne a name, the
+name of Alice Willoughby--for Lady Mabel's surmise had been correct.
+
+Had he known how near the torrent stood near the untried feet of
+Alice's daughter, he would have flung out his strong right arm, caught
+her in a firm hold, and cried, "Beware!"
+
+But he did not know. He saw only with his waking eyes, and those told
+him that Elaine had grown prettier--nothing more. She was safe and
+sound--she was walking at his side. The vital warmth of her young hand
+lay in his. No care for her future troubled him just then.
+
+He chatted to Claud about the details of the mysterious assault. There
+seemed but one subject on which it was natural to converse, in the
+Combe, in those days.
+
+When they came to the bridge, he made the girl pass over its crazy
+planks before him, and jumped her from the top of the stile.
+
+As they neared the farm-house, a sound of loud crying, or rather
+roaring, greeted them; and when Mr. Fowler, with the privilege of old
+custom, walked into the house, and through to the kitchen, there lay
+Saul the idiot, his whole length stretched on the floor, his face purple
+with weeping, and kicking strenuously.
+
+Clara Battishill stood against the table, the color in her pretty little
+cheeks, her chest heaving as with recent encounter, her mien triumphant.
+
+"Saul Parker, hold your noise at once--get up off the flags--stand up, I
+say! What's all this about, eh?" said Mr. Fowler, in his even, unruffled
+tones.
+
+Saul left off howling directly, and, after taking a furtive look at the
+company, hid his tear-strained visage with a wriggle of anguish.
+
+Clara burst out in her shrill treble.
+
+"I've give him a taste of the stick, I have," said she, brandishing a
+stout ash twig, "for killing o' my turkey. He's a cruel boy, he is, and
+I'm very angry wi' him. He took an' threw great rocks over into the
+poultry-yard, and Miss Allonby, she was there wi' me, and he might ha'
+killed both of us; but 'stead o' that, he goes an' kills my best turkey
+I set such store by. I'll l'arn him to throw stones, I will! I's take
+an' tell me mother I won't have un abaout the place if he's going to
+take to throwing stones."
+
+"It won't do," said Mr. Fowler, lightly touching the recumbent Saul with
+his foot. "I always said it wouldn't do when the poor lad grew up. He's
+getting mischievous. Up, Saul!--up, my lad, now at once. You've had a
+beating, which you richly deserved. What made you so naughty, eh?"
+
+For answer the big lad raised himself on his hands and knees, crawled
+towards Clara, and flung his arms humbly about her knees, saying, in his
+imperfect way,
+
+"Poor! poor!"
+
+His castigator was melted at once. She took his beautiful head of golden
+curls between her hands, and patted it energetically.
+
+"There, you see, he don't mean anything; he's as good as gold all the
+time," she said. "But mind, you leave my birds a-be, Saul. If I ketch
+you in my poultry-yard, I'll give you such a licking! I will! So mind!"
+
+He began to whimper penitently. Lady Mabel looked sorrowfully at him.
+
+"Poor boy!" said she, "what an affliction! He ought to be put into an
+asylum."
+
+"Please, your ladyship, his mother won't part with him," said Clara;
+"and he never does no harm, not if you're kind to him. There, there,
+boy, don't cry. I've got some butter-milk for you in t' dairy."
+
+He began to smile through his tears, which he wiped away on her apron.
+Claud thought it the oddest group he had ever seen. The sight of the
+great fellow prone on the ground, meekly taking a beating from a girl
+half his size, was a mixture of the pathetic and the absurd. It half
+touched, half disgusted him. Suddenly a light step on the wooden stair
+made him turn.
+
+Wynifred stood in the doorway.
+
+"Oh,--Mr. Cranmer," she said, faltering somewhat at the presence of
+three strangers. "I beg your pardon, I thought you were alone. My
+brother would like to see you."
+
+"I'll come at once, but first of all you must let me introduce you to my
+sister."
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XIV.
+
+    "Till the lost sense of life returned again,
+    Not as delight, but as relief from pain."
+
+    _The Falcon of Sir Federigo._
+
+
+Allonby's return to full consciousness had been a very gradual affair.
+Each lucid interval had been eagerly watched by Dr. Forbes, who feared
+the loss of memory, partial or entire, which often results from such
+brain attacks. Were the young man to forget--as it was entirely probable
+that he would--the circumstances immediately preceding his illness, the
+difficulty of Mr. Dickens' mission would be increased tenfold.
+
+When it became evident that the sick man recognised his sister, the
+excitement began to culminate. But hours went by, he slept, ate, awoke,
+and dozed again, quite tranquil, and apparently not at all solicitous as
+to how Wynifred came to be at his side, or where he was, or what was the
+reason of his illness.
+
+But at last, one afternoon, the "light of common day" broke in upon the
+calmness of his musings, and sent his mind tossing restlessly to and fro
+in all the tumult of newly aroused consciousness.
+
+He awoke from a delicious sleep with a sense of returning vigor in all
+his big limbs, and, essaying to throw out his left arm, behold! It was
+immovable.
+
+He held his breath, while he surveyed the bandaged limb, and all the
+glittering visions which had been the companion of his delirium came
+showering to earth in a torrent of shining fragments.
+
+Throughout his illness, the idea of the Island Valley of Avilion had
+never left him. No doubt the fact that his dominant idea had been a
+beautiful and a peaceful one had greatly served to help him through. His
+talk, when he rambled, had been all of "bowery willows crowned with
+summer sea," and of the rest of the exquisite imagery with which he had
+mentally surrounded Edge Combe in his holiday dreams. Now, the mirage of
+imaginary loveliness had fled. Like a flash it was gone, and only the
+commonplace daylight of every day remained.
+
+This sudden departure of the baseless fabric of his vision was by no
+means a novelty to Osmond. Often and often before he had had violently
+to recall his winged thoughts to earth: to set aside the sparkling
+beauties of the life he lived in fancy, in order to cope with the
+butcher's bills, the rates and taxes of the life he lived in reality.
+
+But this last dream had been passing sweet, and he thought it had lasted
+longer than was common with the airy things. It had rivetted itself in
+his mind, till he felt that he could close his eyes and commit it to
+canvas from memory alone. He could see the soft dim outline of the
+mythic barge, he could "hear the water lapping on the crags, and the
+long ripple washing in the reeds," and he could see, feature for
+feature, the face of the sorrowing queen. A young, lovely face, with the
+light of morning on it, but with anguish in the eyes, and sympathy of
+tears upon the cheeks.
+
+For a moment he closed his eyes to recall it all. Then he boldly opened
+them, to confront a world with which he felt too weak to cope.
+
+Not much of the said world was visible just then, and what there was
+seemed calculated to soothe and cheer. It was bounded by the four walls
+of a not very large room, the whitewash of whose ceiling was spotlessly
+white, the roses of whose wall paper were aggressively round and pink.
+To his right, a casement window hung wide open; and through it came the
+sighing of a summer wind rustling through elm-trees.
+
+Near this window stood the well-known figure of his sister Wynifred,
+stepping leisurely to and fro before the board on her sketching easel,
+to which she was transferring, in charcoal, some impression which was
+visible to her through the window.
+
+Her straight brows were pulled together so as to make a perpendicular
+furrow in the forehead between them; the soft scratching of her charcoal
+brought back to Osmond common-place memories of the Woodstead Art
+School, wherein he passed three days of every week as a master, when it
+was not vacation time.
+
+Wynifred and Wynifred's occupation were familiar enough. They let him
+know the folly of his dreaming; but there yet remained one puzzling
+thing. How came he to be lying there in bed, with a bandaged arm, in a
+room that was utterly strange to him?
+
+It was rather a remarkable room, too, when one came to study it
+attentively. It possessed a heavy door carved in black oak, which door
+was not set flat in the wall, but placed cross-ways across the
+corner--evidently a relic of great antiquity.
+
+The invalid pondered over that door with a curiosity which was somewhat
+strange, considering that the answer to his puzzle, in the shape of his
+sister, stood so close to him, and that he had only to ask to be
+enlightened.
+
+But it is to be supposed that there is something fascinating in
+suspense, or why do we so often turn over and over in our hands a letter
+the handwriting of which is unknown to us--exhausting ourselves in
+surmise as to who is our correspondent, when we have but to break the
+seal for the signature to stare us in the face? There is no saying how
+long Allonby might have amused himself with conjecture, for it was,
+truth to tell, a state of mind peculiarly congenial to him. He liked to
+feel that he did not know what was to happen next--to wait for an
+unexpected _d�nouement_ of the situation. He had often, when exploring
+an unknown country, been guilty of the puerile device of sitting down by
+the roadside, just before a sharp bend in the road, or just below the
+summit of a high hill, while he pleased himself with guessing what would
+be likely to meet his eye when the corner was turned, or the hill-crest
+reached. So now he lay, speculating idly to himself, and by no means
+anxious to break the spell of silence by pronouncing his sister's name;
+when suddenly she looked up from her work, half absently, and, finding
+his eyes gravely fixed on her, flung down her charcoal, and came hastily
+to the bedside, wiping her fingers on her apron.
+
+"How are you, old man?" she said, meeting his inquiring look with one of
+frank kindliness. There was no trace of the burst of feeling with which
+she had told Dr. Forbes that her heart was soaring up to the evening
+star in the quiet heavens in gratitude and love. Evidently Miss Allonby
+kept her sentiment for rare occasions.
+
+"I believe I feel pretty well," said he, using his own voice in an
+experimented and tentative way. "But I feel rather muddled. I don't
+quite recall things. I think, if you were to tell me where I am, it
+would give me a leg up."
+
+"Take a spoonful of 'Brand' first," said Wyn; and, taking up a spoon,
+she proceeded to feed him. He ate readily enough; and philosophically
+said no more till she had turned his pillows and arranged his head in
+comfort; all of which she did both quietly and efficaciously, though in
+a manner all her own, and which would have revealed to the eye of an
+expert that she had been through no course of nursing lectures, nor
+known the interior of any hospital.
+
+"There!" she said at last, seating herself lightly on the edge of the
+bed. "Now I will tell you--you are in a place called Poole Farm. Does
+that help you?"
+
+"Poole Farm? Yes," he said, reflectively. "I was sketching near there.
+Did I have a fall? I have managed to smash myself somehow. How did I do
+it?"
+
+"Don't you remember?" asked Wyn, earnestly.
+
+He lifted his uninjured hand and passed it over his forehead. It came in
+contact with more bandages. He felt them speculatively.
+
+"Broken head, broken arm, broken rib," he remarked, drily. "Broken
+mainspring would almost have been more simple. How did it happen, now?
+How did it happen? I can't understand."
+
+"You were painting, in the lane by the wayside," said the girl,
+suggestively. "A picture with a warm key of color, and a little bit of
+the corner of the farm-house coming into it--evening sky--horizon line
+broken on the left by clump of ash-trees."
+
+"Yes, I know. I recollect that," he said. "I walked over from Edge Combe
+in rather a hot sun. I felt a little queer. But a sunstroke couldn't
+break one's bones, Wyn. I must have had a fall, eh?"
+
+"You fell from your camp-stool to the grass," she returned, "but that
+could hardly have hurt you to such an extent."
+
+He lay musing. At last,
+
+"I don't remember anything," he said, with a sigh. "I think the sun must
+have muddled my head. Tell me what happened."
+
+"My dear boy," cried she, "that is exactly what we want _you_ to tell
+_us_!"
+
+"What! Don't you know?" he asked, with a sudden access of astonishment.
+
+"Nothing! Nobody knows anything except that you were found by the
+roadside, all in fragments. Ah! I can laugh now. But oh, Osmond! when
+they telegraphed to me first!"
+
+She leaned over him, and kissed his forehead.
+
+"My dear boy," she said, "I could eat you."
+
+He caught his breath with a weary sigh.
+
+"What's become of Hilda and Jac?" he asked.
+
+"Oh! they are all right--gone to the Hamertons at Ryde, and having a
+delightful holiday. Don't fret," she said, answering fast, and with an
+evident anxiety at the turn his inquiries were taking. But he would go
+on.
+
+"And how long have I been lying here?" he asked, grimly. "I suppose
+there are some good long bills running up, eh? Doctors not the least
+among them." A pair of very distinct furrows were visible on his
+forehead.
+
+"And that commission of Orton's," he sighed out.
+
+Wyn had slipped down to her knees by his bed, and now she took his hand
+and laid her cheek upon it.
+
+"Listen to me, old man," she said; "there is no need to fret, I've
+managed things for you. I wrote first thing to Mr. Orton, and he
+answered most kindly--his friend will be satisfied if the pictures are
+ready any time within six months, so do unpucker your forehead, please.
+As to expense, it won't be much. Mrs. Battishill is the most delightful
+person, but becomes impracticable directly the money question is
+broached. She says she never let her rooms to anybody in her life, and
+she isn't going to begin now. The room would be standing empty if you
+didn't have it, and you are just keeping it aired. As to linen, it all
+goes into her laundry: "She don't have to pay nothing for the washing of
+it, so why should we!" Ditto, ditto, with dairy produce. "It all cooms
+out of her dairy. It don't cost her nothing, and she can't put no price
+on it!" I have been allowed to pay for nothing but the fish and meat I
+have bought; and I don't apprehend that Dr. Forbes' bill will ruin us.
+There! That's a long explanation, but I must get the � s. d. out of your
+head, or we shall have no peace. I've kept my eyes open and managed
+everything. You are _not_ to worry--mind!"
+
+He heaved a long breath of relief.
+
+"Bless you, Wyn!" he said. "But we must not be too indebted to these
+good folks, you know."
+
+"I know! I'll manage it! We must give them a present. They are really
+well-to-do, and don't want our money. Besides, they are, owing to us,
+the centre of attraction to the neighborhood. All Edge Combe is for ever
+making pilgrimages up here to know how you are faring. You are the hero
+of the hour."
+
+"And you can't tell me what it all means?" he asked, with corrugated
+brow.
+
+"I can tell you no more at present," she answered, rising as she spoke.
+"I must feed you again, and you shall rest an hour or two before you do
+any more talking, and, if you are disobedient, I shall send for Dr.
+Forbes."
+
+Whether Osmond found this threat very appalling, or whether what he had
+already heard supplied him with sufficient food for meditation, was a
+matter of doubt; but some cause or other kept him absolutely silent for
+some time; and Wyn, who had retired to her easel, the better to notify
+that conversation was suspended for the present, by-and-by saw his eyes
+close, and hoped that he was dozing again. So the afternoon wore on,
+till voices struck on her ear--voices of persons in eager conversation.
+They were floated to her through the open window, but came apparently
+from round the corner of the house, for she could not see the speakers
+when she looked out.
+
+As the sounds broke the stillness, Osmond's eyes opened wide.
+
+"Who is there?" he asked, hurriedly.
+
+"I don't know," said his sister, peering forth, "I hear Mr. Cranmer, but
+there is some one else."
+
+Then suddenly a little gush of laughter, high and clear, sailed in on
+the hot summer air, followed by the distinct notes of a girl's voice.
+
+"Saul! Saul! Get up, you stupid boy!"
+
+Osmond stirred again. He rolled right over in bed, and turned his eager
+face full to the window.
+
+"Wyn--who is it?" he asked, uneasily.
+
+"I'll go and see if you want to know."
+
+"Stay one minute--I want to hear--who found me by the wayside, as you
+say, in fragments?"
+
+"A young lady and her maid," was the reply, "She is a Miss Brabourne, I
+believe, and lives near here. She ran in search of help, and
+accidentally met a carriage containing two tourists----"
+
+"Brabourne? Isn't that the name of that horrible imp of a child who
+lives with the Ortons?"
+
+"Yes--I believe it is," said Wyn pausing. "_My nephew, the heir to a
+very large property_," she presently added, mimicking a masculine drawl,
+apparently with much success, for her brother laughed.
+
+"That's it," he said. "Well--but who is Mr. Cranmer?"
+
+Wynifred now became eloquent.
+
+She told him all that Claud had done--his kindness, his interest, his
+unwearying attention, his laying aside all plans for the better
+examination of the mystery.
+
+Of course she greatly exaggerated both Mr. Cranmer's sacrifice and his
+philanthropy. He had been interested, that was all. It had amused him to
+find himself suddenly living and moving in the heart of a murderous
+drama, such as is dished up for us by energetic contributors to the
+sensational fiction of the day. Vol. I. had promised exceedingly well:
+Vol. II. seemed likely to be disappointing. In all the "shilling
+horrors," though of course the detective does not stumble on the right
+clue till page two hundred and fifty is reached, still he contrives to
+be erratic and interesting through all the intermediate chapters, by
+dint of fragments of a letter, the dark hints of an aged domestic, the
+unwarranted appearance of a mysterious stranger, or the revelations of a
+delirious criminal.
+
+Since Allonby had burned the sole letter which could have been of any
+importance, and in his delirium talked only of a place and persons alike
+mythical and useless, it really seemed as if the story must stop short
+for want of incident. Mr. Dickens had all but succeeded in persuading
+Claud that they had to deal with a modern English _vendetta_--a thing of
+all others to be revelled in and enjoyed in these days when the
+incongruous is the interesting.
+
+Our jaded palates turn from the mysteries of Udolpho, where all was in
+keeping, where murders were perpetrated in donjon keeps, ghosts were
+fitly provided with arras as a place to retire to between the acts, and
+medi�val knights and ladies were to the full as improbable as the deeds
+and motives assigned to them. Now something more piquant must be
+provided, above all something _realistic_. Mr. Radcliffe and Horace
+Walpole are relegated to the land of dreams and shadows; give us
+_vraisemblance_ to whet our blunted susceptibilities. Let us have mystic
+ladies, glittering gems, yawning caverns, magic spells; but place the
+nineteenth century Briton, chimney-pot hat and all, in the centre of
+these weird surroundings. Make him your hero; jumble up what is with
+what could never have been, and the first critics in English literature
+shall rise up and call you blessed! They thought themselves dead for
+ever to the voice of the charmer: you have given them the luxury of a
+new sensation; what do you not deserve of your generation? Join the
+hands of the modern English nobleman and the mythical African
+princess--link together the latest development of Yankeeism and dollars
+with the grim tragedy of the Corsican bandit--your fortune is made; you
+are absolutely incongruous; you have out-Radcliffed Radcliffe. She gave
+us the improbable; to you we turn for the absurd.
+
+That Allonby was going to miss such an opportunity as this was, to the
+mind of Mr. Dickens, a _b�tise_ too gross to be contemplated. He had
+already caused the local newspapers to bristle with dark hints. He
+awaited, in a state of feverish suspense, the waking of the lion.
+
+Could he have seen that lion's unfurrowed brow and unenlightened
+expression, his heart would have sunk within him.
+
+As to Claud, the upshot of it all would not materially affect him,
+whichever way it turned. After all his personal taste for melodrama was
+only skin-deep. He preferred what was interesting to what was thrilling.
+He had taken a liking to the unconscious victim; he was struck with the
+loveliness of the Devonshire valley; the weather was fine; he had
+nothing else to do; and that was the sum of all. Considerably would he
+have marvelled, could he have heard Wynifred's description of his
+conduct as it appeared to her. Nobody that he knew of had ever thought
+him a hero; neither did any of his relations hold self-sacrifice to be
+in general the guiding motive of his conduct.
+
+When Miss Allonby, after instilling her own view of his actions into her
+brother's willing ear, slipped off her apron, hung it over the back of a
+chair, and went to summon this good genius to receive the thanks she
+considered so justly his due, he was totally unprepared for what was to
+come.
+
+To have his hand seized in the languid, bony grip of the sick man, to
+see his fine dark grey eyes humid with feeling, to hear faltering thanks
+for "such amazing kindness from an utter stranger," these things greatly
+embarrassed the ordinarily assured Claud.
+
+He jerked his eye-glass from his eye in a good deal of confusion, he
+pulled the left hand corner of his neat little moustache, he absolutely
+felt himself blushing, as he blurted out a somewhat vindictive
+declaration that,
+
+"Miss Allonby must have given a very highly-colored version of the part
+he had taken in the affair."
+
+"Oh, of course you would disclaim," said Allonby, with an approving
+smile. "That's only natural. But I hope some day the time may come when
+I shall have a chance to do you a kindness; it doesn't sound likely, but
+one never knows."
+
+"But this is intolerable," cried Claud, fuming, "I haven't been kind--I
+tell you I haven't! I have been merely lazy and more than a trifle
+inquisitive! I won't be misrepresented, it isn't fair!"
+
+"Could some fay the giftie gie us," said Wyn, smiling softly at him
+across the bed.
+
+"Oh, well," said the young man, with a sudden softening of voice and
+manner, "it's not often that others see me in the light that you two
+appear to have agreed upon. I don't see why I am to disclaim it. It's
+erroneous, of course; but rather unpleasant on the whole; and, after
+all, we never do judge one another justly. If you didn't think me better
+than I am, you might think me worse; so I'll say no more."
+
+"Better not, it would be labor lost," said Wyn, seriously. "When we
+Allonbys say a thing, we stick to it."
+
+"Do you?" said he, with an intonation of eager interest, as if he had
+never before heard such a characteristic in any family.
+
+The girl nodded, but turned away, and beckoned to him not to talk any
+more.
+
+"We must leave him a little," she said, gently. "Dr. Forbes will soon be
+here, and I don't want him to think him unduly excited."
+
+"Wyn," said Osmond, as his sister and the Honorable Claud reached the
+door, "is Miss Brabourne downstairs?"
+
+"Yes."
+
+"It was she who found me by the roadside?"
+
+"Yes."
+
+"Ah!" He said no more, but turned his face to the window and lay still,
+with his poetic and prominent chin raised a little. It was impossible to
+guess at his musings.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XV.
+
+    Since you have praised my hair,
+    'Tis proper to be choice in what I wear.
+
+    _In a Gondola._
+
+
+When Miss Allonby and Mr. Cranmer emerged into the garden, they found a
+pleasing group awaiting their arrival.
+
+Lady Mabel was sitting in a wicker chair, her gloves were removed, and
+lay rolled up in her lap, her firm white hands were employed with
+tea-cups and cream jug.
+
+On the grass near sat Elsa, her hat off, her eyes dilated with wonder
+and enjoyment. Mr. Fowler stood near her ladyship, cutting
+bread-and-butter.
+
+"Come along, Claud," she cried, as they appeared. "That good Mrs.
+Battishill provides an _al fresco_ tea for us! Sit down and take the
+gifts the gods provide you. Did you ever see such a view?"
+
+"Never," said Claud, with conviction. "Of all the lovely bits of rural
+England, I do think this is the loveliest. What makes its charm so
+peculiar is that it's unique. Half a mile along the high-road either
+towards Philmouth or Stanton, you would never guess at the existence of
+such an out-of-the-way spot of beauty. It really does remind one of what
+your brother called it," he went on, turning to Wynifred, "The 'Island
+Valley of Avilion.'"
+
+"That's in Tennyson, I think," said Mr. Fowler. "I am ashamed to say how
+little poetry I read; we are behind the times here in the Combe, I'm
+afraid--eh, Elsie?"
+
+"I don't know," said the monosyllabic beauty, confused.
+
+Her large eyes were resting on Miss Allonby, drinking her in as she had
+drunk in Lady Mabel. They were not alike, most assuredly, yet from
+Elaine's standpoint there was a similarity. Both of them were evidently
+at ease. Each knew how to sit in her chair, what to do with her hands,
+and, above all, what to say.
+
+When her aunts received company they were excited, disordered. They ran
+here and there, for this and that--they fidgetted, they were flurried.
+
+Wynifred Allonby looked as if she did not know what to be flurried
+meant.
+
+She wore the simplest of grey linen gowns, with an antique silver buckle
+at her waist. Into her belt she had fastened three or four of the big
+dark red carnations which grew in profusion in the farm-house garden,
+and were just beginning to blossom. She was in the presence of an earl's
+sister, whom she had never seen before, yet her calm was unruffled, and
+her manner perfectly quiet. In Elsa's untutored eyes, this was
+inimitable.
+
+Though she herself had now met Mr. Cranmer several times, yet she found
+herself blushing more and more every time she met his eye. Consciousness
+was awake--her quick feminine eye told her that her clothes did not
+resemble those of either of the women beside her.
+
+Both were most simply attired, for it was the whim of Lady Mabel, when
+in the country, to wear short woollen skirts, leaving visible her
+shapely ankles, and otherwise to cast away the conventions of Bond
+Street by the use of wash-leather gloves and a stout walking stick.
+To-day, under a short covert coat of dark blue cloth, she wore a loose
+scarlet shirt, the effect of which was coquettish and telling. Her
+well-looped skirts were also of dark blue, and there was a rough and
+ready suitableness to the occasion about her which was most effective.
+The poor little watching, unfledged Elsa felt a soreness, an intolerable
+jealousy. Why was she so unlike others? Why could she not have different
+gowns? She almost thought she could sit and talk as easily as Miss
+Allonby, if only her dress fitted, and she could wear buckles on her
+shoes.
+
+There was Mr. Fowler, who had always been her own especial property, her
+godfather, the one human being who had ever dared to say, "Let the child
+have a holiday." "Let the child stay up another hour this evening."
+There he was, talking to Miss Allonby in his gentle way, looking at her
+with his honest eyes, laying himself out to entertain her, and not so
+much as throwing a glance at his forlorn Elsa.
+
+Nobody knew what purely feminine sorrows were vexing the young heart.
+
+Lady Mabel was in a frame of mind inclined to be very regretful. She,
+like her brother, had taken a vehement fancy to Edge Combe, and she knew
+she must leave it, and return to London. She wanted to make the most of
+these sunshiny, peaceful hours, these interesting people, this lovely
+landscape.
+
+Her fine eyes gazed down the valley, at the mysterious deeps below them,
+thick with foliage, and the deep glowing sea which formed the horizon.
+
+"What a color that ocean is!" she said. "Do look, Claud, it's quite
+tropical!"
+
+Mrs. Battishill was placing a big dish of clotted cream on the table.
+
+"Eh, for all the world like a great basin of hot starch, isn't it? I've
+often thought so," said she, good-humoredly.
+
+Her prompt exit into the farm-house allowed the smiles to broaden at
+will on the countenances of four of her five auditors.
+
+"Oh, Mab," said Claud, with tears in his eyes, "what a slap in the face
+for your sentiment!"
+
+"I'm not sure that it's not a very apt illustration," cried Wyn, when
+she could speak. "It is really just the same color, and the dip of the
+valley holds it like a basin! Imaginative Mrs. Battishill!"
+
+"You draw, I think, Miss Allonby?" said Mr. Fowler.
+
+"Yes, I am very fond of it," she answered.
+
+"You will be able to do some sketching, now that your mind is at ease
+about your brother."
+
+"Yes; but I am a poor hand at landscape. That is Osmond's province. I
+prefer heads. I should like," she paused, and fixed her eyes on Elsa, "I
+should like to paint Miss Brabourne."
+
+Elsa started as if she had been shot. Up rushed the ungoverned color to
+face, throat, and neck. She could not believe the hearing of her ears.
+
+"To paint me?" she cried. The water swam in her glorious eyes. "Are you
+making game of me?" she passionately asked.
+
+"Making game of you? No!" said Wyn, in some surprise. "I am very
+sorry--I beg your pardon--I am afraid I have distressed you."
+
+Lady Mabel reached out her hand towards the girl as she sat on the
+grass; and, placing it under her chin, turned up the flashing,
+quivering, carmine face and smiled into the eyes.
+
+"Should you dislike to sit for your portrait, Elsa?"
+
+"I don't know--I never tried--I know nothing about it!" cried she,
+enduring the touch, as it seemed, with difficulty, and ready to shrink
+back into herself.
+
+"You would try to sit still, if it would be a help to Miss Allonby, I am
+sure?"
+
+"I don't think she means it," cried the tortured Elsa, with a sob.
+
+"I meant it, of course," said Wynifred, very sorry to have been so
+unintentionally distressing. "But I am ashamed of having asked so much.
+Sitting is very tedious, and takes up a great deal of time."
+
+"I should be very anxious to see what you would make of her," said Mr.
+Fowler, with interest. "Elsa, little woman, you must see if you can't
+keep still, if Miss Allonby is so kind as to take so much trouble about
+you."
+
+"Trouble! It would be both pleasure and education," said Wyn, with a
+smile; "she will make a delicious study, if----"
+
+"If?" said Lady Mabel, turning swiftly as she hesitated.
+
+"If I might do her hair," said Wyn, laughing, and throwing a look of
+such arch and friendly confidence towards Elaine that the shy girl
+smiled back at her with a sudden glow.
+
+"Oh, you may do as you like with my hair, if the aunts will only let me
+sit to you!" she said, with eager change of feeling.
+
+"Leave the aunts to me, Elsie--I'll manage them," said Mr. Fowler,
+reassuringly.
+
+"To think that I must go home and lose all this interest and enjoyment,"
+cried Lady Mabel, in some feigned, and a good deal of real regret.
+
+"Why need you go, Mab?" asked Claud.
+
+"Oh, my dear boy, I must! Edward is coming down to fetch me, and there
+are my darlings to see after. My holiday is over. But I shall comfort
+myself with hoping to have Elsa to stay with me when I am settled.
+Edward writes me word that we shall be obliged to have a house in town
+this winter--my husband has been so ill-advised as to get into
+Parliament," explained she to Mr. Fowler.
+
+"Oh, yes; I remember hearing very gladly of his success," was the
+cordial response. "Also that his electioneering was most ably assisted
+by Lady Mabel Wynch-Fr�re, who was received with an ovation whenever she
+appeared in public."
+
+He was bending over her as he spoke, handing her the strawberries, and
+she smiled up at him with sudden passion of Irish eyes.
+
+"Any effort in the good cause," she said, with fervency.
+
+"Exactly, in the good cause," he responded. "You may speak out--we are
+all friends here."
+
+"How do you know?" asked Claud. "You don't suppose I sympathize with
+Mab's political delusions, do you? A younger son must be a Radical, as
+far as I can see. The idea of plunder is the only idea likely to appeal
+to his feelings with any force."
+
+Mr. Fowler laughed pleasantly.
+
+"You put me in a difficulty," said he. "I was going to try to persuade
+you to come and take up your quarters in my bachelor diggings in the
+Lower House for awhile and try my shooting; but if you are going to vote
+against the government----"
+
+"You'll have to drive me out of the Lower House--stop my mouth with a
+peerage, eh?" cried Claud.
+
+"Miss Allonby doesn't see the joke," said Mr. Fowler; "my dwelling is
+called the Lower House," he proceeded to explain, "receiving that title
+merely because it happens to be further down the valley than Edge
+Willoughby."
+
+"I see," said the girl, laughing. "Well! as a representative of law and
+order, I'm shocked to hear you advocating shooting, Mr. Fowler!"
+
+"To an Irishman, eh? Yes, it's risky, I own. But what say you, Mr.
+Cranmer, seriously? Come and try my covers?"
+
+It was exactly the invitation Claud wanted. He had no compunction in
+becoming the guest of a well-to-do bachelor, whose birds were probably
+pining to be killed; and it would keep him in this lovely part of the
+country, and within reach of Allonby and his mystery, not to mention
+Elsa Brabourne.
+
+His face lighted up with pleasure.
+
+"But----" he began.
+
+"But it's not the 12th, yet--no, you're right. I can offer you a
+trout-stream to begin with, and a horse if you care about riding. If you
+are bored, you can run up to town, and come down again for the
+shooting."
+
+"I shan't be bored," said Claud.
+
+In point of fact, the whole thing promised most favorably.
+
+A visit to a house with no mistress--where doubtless you might smoke in
+your bed-room, and need never exert yourself to get off the sofa, or put
+on a decent coat, or make yourself entertaining, or go to church twice
+on Sundays.
+
+His bachelor soul rejoiced.
+
+All this, with the ladies within reach if by chance he wanted them or
+their society, why, it was the acme of luxury!
+
+"I was wondering how you were going to begin shooting so soon," said
+Lady Mabel; "but I assure you, Claud will be perfectly happy if only you
+let him loaf about and dream by himself. He likes a contemplative
+existence."
+
+"Yes," said Claud, modestly and even cheerfully accepting this
+description of himself. "I like leisure to congratulate myself that I
+have none of the vices, and few of the failings, of my fellow-creatures
+in this imperfect world."
+
+"_Few_ of the failings--have you _any_?" asked Miss Allonby, with
+innocent surprise, holding a strawberry ready poised for devouring. "Do
+you really admit so much? I am curious to know to what human weakness
+you are free to confess?"
+
+"Would you really like to know? Well--it is a very interesting subject
+to me, so doubtless it must be interesting to other people," said Claud,
+in his debonair way. "Know, then, that I have a fault. Yes, I know it,
+self-deception was never a vice of mine; I see clearly that I am not
+without a defect; and I deeply fear that time will not eradicate it,
+though haply indigestion may do so. This weakness is--strawberries." He
+heaved a deep sigh, and helped himself to his fourth plateful with
+melancholy brow.
+
+"Only one consolation have I," he went on, placing a thick lump of cream
+on the fruit. "It is that the period of degradation is transient. A few
+short weeks in each year, and I recover my self-respect until next June.
+Peaches smile on me in vain, dusky grapes besiege my constancy. My
+friends tempt me with pine-apples, and wave netted melons before my
+dazzled vision; but I remain temperate. Strawberries are my one
+vulnerable point; which, being the case, I know you'll excuse my further
+conversation."
+
+"Say no more," said Wyn, in solemn accents. "A confidence so touching
+will be respected by all."
+
+"Ah! sympathy is very sweet," sighed he. "Have you a failing, by chance,
+Miss Allonby?"
+
+"I am sure I do not know," she answered, with great appearance of
+reflective candor. "My self-knowledge is evidently not so complete as
+yours. If I were conscious of one, I fear I should not have your courage
+to avow it; perhaps because my defect would most likely be chronic, and
+not a mere passing weakness like yours."
+
+During this passage, Lady Mabel had been abundantly occupied in studying
+Elsa's face. Its expression of incredulity and dismay was strange to
+behold. That, two grown-up persons should deliberately set to work to
+talk the greatest nonsense that occurred to them at the moment had never
+struck her as in any way a possibility. What made them do it? Were they
+in earnest? Their faces were as grave as judges, but Mr. Fowler was
+laughing. She hoped that nobody would ever speak to her like that, and
+expect her to reply in the same vein. It overwhelmed, it oppressed her.
+Involuntarily she drew near Lady Mabel, and shrank almost behind her, as
+if for protection from the two who were, like Cicero, speaking Greek.
+
+Lady Mabel amused herself in thinking what Miss Charlotte Willoughby's
+verdict would have been, had she been present.
+
+"I am sure you both have a pretty good opinion of yourselves," she might
+have remarked, or more probably still, "Strawberries are wholesome
+enough when eaten in moderation, but I am sure such excessive indulgence
+must be bad for anybody."
+
+"I don't wonder," said Mr. Fowler, with sly playfulness, "that Miss
+Allonby is unwilling to follow Mr. Cranmer's fearless example, and
+proclaim herself uninteresting for eleven months out of twelve."
+
+"Uninteresting!" cried Claud.
+
+"What so uninteresting as perfection? I am glad I first made your
+acquaintance when you were under the influence of your one defect. I
+doubt I shouldn't have invited you to Lower House if I had met you a
+month later."
+
+"Ah! you have invited me now, and you must hold to it," cried Claud, in
+triumph; "but, as I must admit I have deceived you, and owe you
+reparation, why--to oblige you--I will try to hatch up a special defect
+for August."
+
+"I don't think you'll find it very difficult, dear boy," said Lady
+Mabel, sweetly.
+
+"Difficult to make myself interesting? No, Mab, that has always come
+easily to me; you and I were never considered much alike," was the
+impudent answer.
+
+"His desire to have the last word is really quite--lady-like, isn't it?"
+said his sister to Mr. Fowler; and all four burst out laughing. "Claud,
+I am ashamed of you--get up and put down those strawberries. Here is
+Elsa looking at you in horror and amazement! Do mind your manners."
+
+"As I have devoured my last mouthful, I obey at once. I am like the
+ancient mariner after telling his story. The feverish desire for
+strawberries has passed from me for a while. I become rational once
+more."
+
+"Such moments are rare; let us make the most of them," retorted she,
+"and tell me seriously what your plans are."
+
+"If you'll allow me, I'll walk back with you and Miss Brabourne, and
+expound them on the way. Oh, look, Mr. Fowler, there's that ass Dickens;
+I must go and speak to him a minute, and tell him we're more in the dark
+than ever."
+
+He rose hurriedly, his nonsense disappearing at once, and went down to
+the gate, followed by Henry Fowler.
+
+"We can never be grateful enough to your brother, Lady Mabel," said Wyn,
+gently, when they were out of hearing.
+
+"I am sure he is only too pleased to have had a chance of being of use.
+He is as kind a fellow as ever breathed, and hardly ever does himself
+justice," said Claud's sister, warmly. "He is a real comfort to me, and
+always has been; so thoughtful and considerate, and never fusses about
+anything."
+
+"No, he does everything so simply, and as if it were all in the day's
+work," said Wynifred, as if absently. "It is the kind of nature which
+would composedly perform an act of wild heroism, and then wonder what
+all the applause was for."
+
+Lady Mabel looked swiftly at the speaker. It seemed to her that it was
+the most un-girlish comment on a young man that she had ever heard.
+Perhaps the strangeness of it lay more in manner than in words. Wynifred
+leaned one elbow on the table, her chin rested in her hand; her pale
+face and tranquil eyes studied Mr. Cranmer, as he stood pulling the gate
+to and fro, and eagerly talking to the detective. Her expression was
+that of cool, critical attention. Something in Lady Mabel's surprised
+silence seemed to strike on her sensitive nerves. She looked hurriedly
+up, and colored warmly.
+
+"I beg your pardon," she said, confusedly, "I am afraid I am
+blundering" ... and then broke short off, and pushed back her chair from
+the table. "We have a bad habit at home," she said, "of studying real
+people as if they were characters in fiction; but we don't, as a rule,
+forget ourselves so far as to discuss them with their own relations."
+
+Lady Mabel smiled; it was a pretty and an adequate apology. She thought
+Miss Allonby an interesting girl, and was inspired with a desire to see
+more of her.
+
+"You must come and see me when I am settled in London, Miss Allonby,"
+she said, kindly, "I should like to know your sisters."
+
+"I should like you to know them," was the eager response. "Osmond and I
+are very proud of them."
+
+"They are both younger than you?"
+
+"Yes; Hilda is three years younger, and Jacqueline four. There is only
+just a year between them."
+
+"And you are orphans?"
+
+"Yes."
+
+At this moment Claud approached.
+
+"Miss Allonby," he said, "I wonder if you would get your brother's
+permission for Mr. Dickens to rifle the things he left behind him at the
+'Fountain Head'with Mrs. Clapp?"
+
+"Oh, certainly, I am sure he would have no objection. Perhaps I had
+better come myself," said Wynifred. "I have been wanting to fetch up
+some paints."
+
+"It would be far the best plan," said Claud, with alacrity. "I am going
+to walk down with my sister and Miss Brabourne. Will you come to? I will
+see you safely home again."
+
+"You are very kind," she answered, simply. "I will go and tell Osmond,
+and see whether nurse has given him his tea."
+
+"We shall have to set out soon," said Lady Mabel, "or we shall be late
+for tea at Edge Willoughby."
+
+"The amount of meals one can get through in this climate!" observed
+Claud, pensively. "Why, you have this moment finished one tea, Mab,--I'm
+ashamed of you! Mr. Fowler, how many meals a day am I to have at the
+Lower House?"
+
+"Oh, I think I can promise you as many as you can eat, without taxing my
+cook or my larder too far. We are used to appetites here."
+
+"A fellow-feeling makes us wondrous kind," mused Mr. Cranmer. "The fact
+that King Henry died of a surfeit used to impress me, I remember, with
+an unfavorable view of that monarch's character. But"--he heaved a sigh,
+and, with a side-glance of fun at Elsa, took another strawberry--"_nous
+avons chang� tout cela_! _Vive_ Devonshire and the Devon air!"
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XVI.
+
+    We read, or talked, or quarrelled, as it chanced.
+    We were not lovers, nor even friends well-matched:
+    Say rather, scholars upon different tracks,
+    Or thinkers disagreed.
+
+    AURORA LEIGH.
+
+
+With his usual forethought, Mr. Cranmer had made out in his own mind a
+plan of the coming walk. He meant to walk from Poole to Edge with Elsa
+Brabourne, the anachronism, and return from Edge to Poole with Wynifred
+Allonby, one of the latest developments of her century.
+
+He felt that there must needs be a piquancy about the contrast which the
+dialogue in these two walks would necessarily present. No doubt one
+great cause of his happy, contented nature was this faculty for amusing
+himself, and at once becoming interested in whatever turned up.
+
+It is scarcely a common quality among the English upper classes, who
+mostly seem to expect that the mountain will come to Mahomet as a
+matter of course, and so remain "orbed in their isolation," and, as a
+natural consequence, not very well entertained by life in general. It
+was this trait in Claud which drew him and his eccentric sister
+together. She was every bit as ready as he to explore all the obscure
+social developments of her day. Anything approaching eccentricity was a
+passport to her favor, as to his; and these valley people had taken
+strong hold on the fancy of both.
+
+He was standing just outside the door, when Wynifred came down ready for
+her walk, and he noted approvingly that the London girl was equipped for
+country walking in the matter of thick shoes, stout stick, and shady
+hat. On the shoes he bestowed a special mental note of approval. Lady
+Mabel had once said that she believed the first thing Claud noticed in a
+woman was her feet. Miss Allonby was intensely unconscious that her own
+were at this moment passing the ordeal of judgment from such a critic,
+and passing it favorably.
+
+"Osmond is very quiet and comfortable, and nurse thinks I can well be
+spared," she announced.
+
+"I must reluctantly bid you all good-bye for the present," said Mr.
+Fowler, regretfully. "I am obliged to go on to visit a farm up this way.
+I wish you a pleasant walk."
+
+He raised his hat with a smile, and stood watching as they started. Lady
+Mabel, urged on by her active disposition, went first, and Wynifred went
+with her. Claud dropped behind with Elaine, and this was the order of
+the march all the way to the village. Mr. Cranmer was resolved to make
+Elsa talk, and he began accordingly with the firm determination that
+nothing should baulk him, and that he would not be discouraged by
+monosyllables. It was well that this resolution was strong, for it was
+severely tried.
+
+The first subject he essayed was the beauty of the scenery, and the joy
+of living in the midst of such a fine landscape. He could have waxed
+eloquent on this theme, and shown his listener how much happier are the
+dwellers in rural seclusion than they who exist in towns, and how it
+really is a fact that the dispositions of those born among mountains are
+freer and nobler than those of denizens of flat ground--with much more
+of the same kind. But he soon became aware that he spoke to deaf ears.
+The girl beside him was not interested: he could not even keep her
+attention. Her feet lagged, her head seemed constantly turning, without
+her volition, back towards the direction of Poole Farm.
+
+"But perhaps you don't share my enthusiasm for the country?" he broke
+off suddenly, with great politeness.
+
+Elsa grew red, stretched out her hand for a tendril from the hedge, and
+answered, confusedly:
+
+"I hate living in the country!"
+
+There was a note in her young voice of a defiance compelled hitherto to
+be mute, and consequently of surprising force. The very fact of having
+broken silence at last seemed to give her courage; after a minute's
+excited pause, she went on:
+
+"I want people--I want companions. I want to be in a great city, all
+full of life! I want to hear people talk, and know what they think, and
+find out all about them. Do you know that I have never met a girl in my
+life till I saw Miss Allonby! And--and--" with voice choked with
+shame--"I am afraid to speak to her. I don't know what to say. I should
+show her my ignorance directly. Oh, you can't think how ignorant I am! I
+know nothing--absolutely nothing. And I do so long to."
+
+"Knowledge comes fast enough," said Claud, impetuously. "You will
+know--soon enough. Don't fret about that. In these days you cannot think
+what a rest it is to find anyone so fresh, so unspoiled--so--so
+ingenuous as yourself, Miss Brabourne! You must forgive my venturing to
+say so much. But, if you only knew what a power is yours by the very
+force of the seclusion you have lived in, you would be overwhelmed with
+gratitude to these wonderful ladies who have made you what you are!"
+
+"Then," said Elaine, shyly, stealing a wary glance at him, "you _do_ see
+that I am very unlike any girl you ever met?"
+
+Claud laughed a little, and hesitated.
+
+"Yes, you are--in your bringing up, I tell you frankly," he said. "As
+regards your disposition, I don't know enough to venture on an opinion."
+
+They walked on a few minutes in silence, and then she said:
+
+"Tell me about London, please."
+
+He complied at once, but soon found out that it was not theatrical
+London, nor artistic London, nor the London of balls and receptions
+which claimed her attention, but the world of music, which to her was
+like the closed gates of Paradise to the Peri.
+
+When he described the Albert Hall, and the Popular Concerts, she drank
+in every word. It was enchanting to have so good a listener, and he
+talked on upon the same theme until the village was reached, when his
+sister faced round, and said that Miss Allonby wished to stop at the
+"Fountain Head," but she and Elsa must hasten on, so as not to be late
+for the Misses Willoughby's tea-time.
+
+It was accordingly settled that Claud should walk up with them as far as
+the gate of Edge and return to fetch Wynifred in half-an-hour. On his
+way back he called at the postman's cottage to see if there were any
+letters for Poole Farm. They put two or three into his hands, and also a
+packet which surprised him. It was addressed to Miss Allonby, and
+obviously contained printer's proofs.
+
+He stared at it. A big fat bundle, with "Randall and Sons, Printers,
+Reading, Llandaff, and London," stamped on a dark blue ground at the top
+left-hand corner.
+
+"So she writes, among other things, does she?" said he, speculatively,
+as he turned the packet over and over. "What does the modern young lady
+not do, I wonder? what sort of literature? Fiction, I'll bet a
+sovereign, unless it is an essay on extending the sphere of feminine
+usefulness, or on the doctrine of the enclitic De, or on First Aid to
+the Sick and Wounded. Strange! How the male mind does thirst after
+novelty! I declare nowadays it is exquisitely refreshing to find a girl
+like Miss Brabourne, who has never been to an ambulance lecture, nor
+written a novel, nor even exhibited a china plaque at Howell and
+James'!"
+
+For Claud had that instinctive admiration for "intelligent ignorance" in
+a woman which seems to be one of the most rooted inclinations of the
+male mind. Theoretically, he hated ignorant woman; practically, there
+were times when he loved to talk to them.
+
+Wynifred was seated in the porch of the inn, talking to Mrs. Clapp, when
+he came up. The subject of conversation was, needless to relate, the
+missing pudding-basin.
+
+"When we find that, miss, the murder'll be aout," was the good lady's
+opinion.
+
+Claud thought so too.
+
+"First catch your hare," he murmured, as he paused at the door. "Have I
+kept you waiting, Miss Allonby?"
+
+"Scarcely a minute," she answered, rising, and nodding a "good evening"
+to Mrs. Clapp.
+
+"I called in at the postman's," he said, as they turned homewards, "and
+have brought you this, as the result of my enterprise."
+
+He produced the packet of proofs, with his eyes fixed on her. Her face
+did not change in the least.
+
+"Thanks," she said, "but what a heavy packet for you to carry--let me
+relieve you of it."
+
+"Certainly not; it goes easily in my pocket;" and he replaced it with a
+curious sense of being baffled. Should he leave the subject, or should
+he take the bull by the horns and tax her with it? It might be merely a
+sense of shyness which made her unwilling to talk of her writings.
+
+"I did not know you were an authoress, Miss Allonby," he said.
+
+"No? I have not written very much," she answered, frankly.
+
+"May I venture to ask what you write? Is it novels?" he asked,
+tentatively.
+
+"It is singular, not plural, at present," she answered, laughing. "I
+have published a novel, and hope soon to bring out another."
+
+"You seem to be a universal genius," he observed.
+
+"That is the kind of speech I never know how to reply to," said
+Wynifred. "I can't demonstrate that you are wrong--I can only protest:
+and I do hate protesting."
+
+"I am very sorry--I didn't know what to say," apologised he, lamely.
+
+"Then why did you introduce the subject?" she answered, lightly. "You
+can't accuse me of doing so. Let us now talk of something on which you
+are more fluent."
+
+He laughed.
+
+"Do you know you are most awfully severe?"
+
+"Am I? I thought you were severe on me. But, if you really wish to know,
+I will tell you that I don't care to talk of my writings, because I
+always prefer a subject I can treat impartially. I can't be impartial
+about my own work--I am either unjust to myself or wearisome to my
+audience. I don't want to be either, so I avoid the topic as much as
+possible. This letter is from my sisters at Ryde--will you excuse me if
+I just peep to see if they are quite well?"
+
+"Most certainly," replied Claud, strolling meditatively on, with a
+glance now and then towards his companion, who was absorbed in her
+letter. He thought he had never beheld such an ungirlish girl in his
+life. That total absence of consciousness annoyed him more than ever.
+Elsa Brabourne was one mass of consciousness, all agitated with the
+desire to please, all eager to know his opinion of her. It really did
+not seem to matter in the least to Wynifred whether he had an opinion
+concerning her at all. Evidently he did not enter into her calculations
+in any other relation than as her brother's benefactor. Her burst of
+gratitude had been very pleasant to the young man's vanity; he had hoped
+at least to arrest her attention for a few days, to make her sensible of
+his presence, intolerant of his absence; but no. He had to confess that
+she was new to him--new and incomprehensible. He could not know that her
+state of impartiality and unconsciousness was an acquired thing, not a
+natural characteristic, the result of a careful restraint of impulse, a
+laborious tutoring of the will. It sprang from a conviction that, to do
+good work as a novelist, one must be careful to preserve the moral
+equilibrium, that no personal agitations should interfere with quiet
+sleep at night, and the free working of ideas. She met everybody with
+the pre-conceived resolution that they were not to make too deep an
+impression. They were to be carefully considered and studied, if their
+characters seemed to merit such attention; but this study was to be of
+their relation to others, not herself. She, Wynifred, was to be a
+spectator, to remain in the audience; on no account was she to take an
+active part in the scenes of passion and feeling enacting on the stage.
+
+No doubt this was not a normal standpoint for any young woman to occupy;
+but she was scarcely to be judged by the same standards as the average
+girl. If blame there were, it should attach to the circumstances which
+compelled her, like an athlete, to keep herself continually in training
+for the race which must be run.
+
+"Hilda and Jacqueline are quite well," she said, folding her paper with
+a smile. "They are having great fun. There is a mysterious yacht at Ryde
+which is causing great excitement; have you heard about it, by chance?"
+
+"I wonder if it is the same that I heard about from a man I know at
+Cowes? Is it called the _Swan_?"
+
+"Yes, that is the name. It belongs to a Mr. Percivale, of whom nobody
+seems to know anything, except that he is very rich and very
+retiring--nobody can get up anything like an intimacy with him. He
+speaks English perfectly; but they do not seem to think that he is
+English in spite of his name. It is interesting, isn't it?"
+
+"Yes, I think it is; but I expect, after all, it is nonsense. Why should
+a man make a mystery about his identity, if you come to think of it,
+unless he's ashamed of it? But, as a novelist, I suppose you have an
+appetite for mystery?"
+
+"Yes, I do think I must own to a weakness that way; you see mystery is
+rare in these days," said Wynifred, meditatively.
+
+"Well, I don't know; we have a good rousing mystery up here in the Combe
+just now--a mystery that I don't think we shall solve in a hurry," said
+Claud, with a baffled sigh, as they drew near the fatal spot in the
+lane.
+
+The girl's face grew grave.
+
+"Yes, indeed," she said, abstractedly.
+
+As if by mutual consent they came to a stand-still, and stood gazing,
+not at the grassy road-side where the crime had been perpetrated, but
+down the fair valley, where the long crescent of the waxing moon hung in
+the dark-blue air over the darkening sea.
+
+"The worst of an untraceable crime like this seems to me," she said, "to
+consist in the ghastly feeling that what has been once so successfully
+attempted, with perfect impunity, might be repeated at any moment--on
+any victim; one has no safeguard."
+
+"Oh, don't say that," he said, hurriedly, "it sounds like a prophecy."
+
+She started, and looked for a moment into his dilated eyes, her own full
+of expression. For the first time in their mutual acquaintance he
+thought her pretty. In the isolation of the twilight lane, rendered
+deeper by the shadow of the tall ash-trees, with the memory of a
+horrible crime fresh in her mind, a momentary panic had seized her. She
+came nearer to him; instinctively he offered his arm, and she took it.
+He could feel her fingers close nervously on it.
+
+"It is so dreadful," she said, in a whisper, "to think of wickedness
+like--like _that_, in such a beautiful world as this."
+
+"It is," he answered, in sober, reassuring tones, "therefore I forbid
+you to think about it. I ought not to have brought you home this way; I
+am an idiot."
+
+"It is I who am an idiot," said the girl, smiling at her own weakness.
+"Ever since I have known you--I mean, you have grown to know me at an
+unfortunate time. I suppose I am a little overdone; you mayn't believe
+it, but I--I hardly ever lose my head like this."
+
+"I can believe it very well," was the prompt reply. "You will be all
+right again in half a minute." He had turned so that their backs were
+towards the fatal spot; and, as if absently, he strolled back a little
+way down the road, her hand still on his arm. He began to speak at once,
+in his easy tones. "Look!" he said, "what a superb night it is! I
+thought I saw a sail, just going behind that tree. Ah! there it is! How
+bright! The moon just catches it."
+
+"Perhaps it is the _Swan_," she answered, struggling valiantly for a
+natural voice. "The girls said I was to look out for it--it is going to
+cruise westward."
+
+"Perhaps it is," he answered. "How phosphorescent the water is in its
+trail--do you see? How the little waves are full of fire!"
+
+    "'The startled little waves, that leap
+    In fiery ringlets from their sleep,'"
+
+she managed to quote, with a feeling of amazement that she should have
+re-conquered her self-possession enough to be able to speak and think at
+all.
+
+Her whole heart was going out to Claud in gratitude for his most
+delicate consideration. The whole affair had lasted but a few moments,
+but she had been very near a breakdown that evening--nearer than she
+herself knew. She had needed to say nothing--one look into her eyes had
+told him just what she was feeling, and instantly all his care had been
+to help her. She had no time to apply any of her habitual restraints to
+the spontaneous rush of kindness with which she was regarding him. All
+of a sudden she had discovered in him a delicacy of sympathy which she
+had never met with in his sex before. He appeared to know exactly what
+she stood in need of.
+
+It seemed to give her whole nature a species of electric shock; the
+carefully-preserved moral equilibrium was being severely strained.
+
+"Will you come now?" he said, presently, in her ear. "I think it would
+be better for you afterwards if you can walk quietly past; but don't if
+you had rather not; we will go the other way round."
+
+"I will walk past, please."
+
+He turned, and walked at her side.
+
+"I heard an anecdote of the mysterious owner of the _Swan_ the other
+day," said he. "I fancy it was worth repeating;" and proceeded to relate
+said anecdote in even tones, making it last until they stood at the gate
+of the farm. There he broke off abruptly.
+
+"I have brought you home just in time to say good-night to your
+brother," said he, brightly.
+
+She turned, and gave him her hand.
+
+"Thank you with all my heart," said she. "You don't know how grateful I
+am. Good-night."
+
+She was gone--her tall slim form darting into the shadow of the doorway.
+
+Claud propped himself against the gate, slowly drew out his cigar-case
+and matches, and lighted up. Then he turned, and leaning both arms on
+the topmost rail, smoked placidly, with his eyes fixed on the vanishing
+white sail, and its track on the phosphorescent water. Presently he
+withdrew his weed from his mouth a moment, and turned to where the
+lights of Edge gleamed in the valley.
+
+"Elsa Brabourne," he mused. "A pretty name: and a lovely girl she will
+be in a year or two. Even if her brother allows her nothing, she will
+have more than two hundred pounds a year of her own, and the Misses
+Willoughby are sure to leave her every penny they possess. A younger son
+might do worse."
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XVII.
+
+    And he came back the pertest little ape
+    That ever affronted human shape:
+
+           *       *       *       *       *
+
+    And chief in the chase his neck he perilled
+    On a lathy horse, all legs and length,
+    With blood for bone, all speed, no strength.
+
+    _The Flight of the Duchess._
+
+
+"Colonel Wynch-Fr�re? Glad to see you, sir! Fine day for the wind-up,
+isn't it? Never seen Ascot so full on a Friday in my life! Everybody's
+here. Seen my wife, by chance?"
+
+"Yes, a minute ago: in Mrs. Learmorth's box. I've got a little bet on
+with her about this event," answered the gentleman addressed, tapping
+his little book with a gold pencil-case, and smiling.
+
+It was the lawn at Ascot: and it was brilliantly thronged, for the rain,
+which had emptied itself in bucketfuls on Cup day, had at last relented,
+and allowed the sun to burst forth with warmth and brightness for the
+running of the Hardwicke Stakes.
+
+"Ah! I don't know when I have been so excited over a race in my life,"
+said the first speaker. "I'm of the opinion that Invincible is going to
+the wall at last. Carter's on Castilian, you know, and he's going to
+ride to win."
+
+"Can't do it," said the colonel, shortly.
+
+"_Can't he?_"
+
+"No. He'll try all he knows, but Invincible is--Invincible, you know."
+
+"I know he has been hitherto; but he's never met Castilian in a short
+distance; I say all that bone will tell. I'll give you two to one on
+it."
+
+The bet was accepted, and Frederick Orton nodded to himself in a
+confident way, which also made his companion anxious, for he knew his
+was an opinion not to be despised.
+
+"Haven't seen my young nephew, have you?" asked Orton, as he made a
+memorandum in his book.
+
+"Not that I know of. What nephew?"
+
+"My young limb of Satan--confound him!" said Orton, with a laugh. "He's
+made his book as carefully as if he had been fifty years old. I've
+fetched him twice out of the ring by the scruff of his neck to-day; but
+Letherby, my old groom, is with him, so I suppose he's all right."
+
+"He's beginning early," observed Colonel the Honorable Edward
+Wynch-Fr�re, in his slow way.
+
+"He is. What do you think? He wants to ride Welsh Rabbit for the
+Canfield Cup. What do you think, eh? Should you let him do it?"
+
+The colonel meditated for some moments.
+
+"Is he strong enough in the wrists? That's where I should doubt him," he
+said, reflectively. "He rode splendidly at those private races of yours
+at Fallowmead; but then he knew his ground as well as his horse; he'd
+have to carry weight at Canfield."
+
+"Of course. But Letherby says he could do it. The only thing is the risk
+of a bad throw. These things are done in a minute, you know; and he's
+heir to a big property. It's been well nursed, and, if anything happened
+to the poor little beggar, plenty of people would be kind enough to
+say----"
+
+"I rode in a steeple-chase when I was sixteen," observed Colonel
+Wynch-Fr�re.
+
+In fact, he looked more like a stud-groom than anything else you could
+fancy. No wonder; he had but two ideas in the world: one was
+horse-racing, the other was his wife. It seemed, on the whole, rather a
+pity that Lady Mabel's very wide range of sympathies should include
+neither horse-racing nor her husband. It was purgatory for her to go and
+stay at the house of Lord Folinsby, his father, the great Yorkshire
+earl, where the riding-school was the centre of attraction to all her
+brothers and sisters-in-law, and where the young men seemed always in
+training for some race or another, cut their whiskers like grooms,
+walked bandy-legged, and talked of the stables. Thus, the colonel
+indulged in his horse-racing and his wife separately; and endeavored,
+with all the force of his kind heart and limited intellect, not to talk
+of the first when in the presence of the second.
+
+But to-day every faculty he had was centred on the question as to
+whether or not the duke's marvellous chestnut, Invincible, would have to
+lay down his laurels; and he moved along by Mr. Orton's side talking
+quite volubly, for him, on the all-engrossing theme, and the reports as
+to who was likely to drop money over the race.
+
+Be it stated that he was eminently a racing, not a betting man; he was
+no gambler, though always ready to back his own opinion.
+
+The grand stand was packed, and the ladies' dresses as brilliant as the
+June sky.
+
+The two men, moving slowly on, at last caught the eyes of two ladies who
+were beckoning them, and accordingly went up and joined them.
+
+"You are only just in time--they have cleared the course," said Mrs.
+Learmorth, a lady sparkling in diamonds but deficient in grammar.
+
+"My dear Fred, where's Godfrey?" asked Mrs. Orton, a handsome, very dark
+young woman, with a high color and flashing eyes.
+
+"Oh, he's somewhere about: Letherby's looking after him," was the
+nonchalant reply, as he lifted a pair of field glasses to his eye, and
+presently announced, in a tone of keen excitement; "They'll be out
+directly. Wait till they canter past the stand. Mrs. Learmorth, you've
+never seen Invincible, have you?"
+
+"Never!" cried the lady, eagerly. "Mind you point him out to me."
+
+"Here they come," said the colonel. "Look--that's Lord Chislehurst's
+Falcon--I've backed him for a place--lathy beast: but a good deal of
+pace. This one and this are both outsiders. There's the duke's daffodil
+livery, but that is only a second horse put on to make the running. Here
+comes the Castilian, Orton."
+
+Mr. Orton was watching with an absorbed fascination.
+
+"Ay, there's Carter," said he, studying the well-known jockey's face.
+"He means business, I tell you."
+
+The Castilian was a large dark-brown horse, and the crimson and
+pale-blue colors of his rider set him off to advantage; but, like many
+good race-horses, he was not singularly beautiful to the eye of the
+unlearned. He cantered by with some dignity, amid a good deal of
+cheering, when suddenly there was a rush, something like a flash of
+light, a bright chestnut horse, with a jockey in daffodil satin, darted
+like a fairy thing past the stand, followed by a spontaneous shout from
+the crowded onlookers. The magic hoofs seemed scarcely to touch the turf
+over which they swept; and Mrs. Orton, watching with a somewhat sardonic
+smile, observed,
+
+"You'll lose your money, Fred."
+
+"You wait and see," said her husband, oracularly.
+
+"I'm sure I hope he has been careful," she went on, with a laugh, to
+Mrs. Learmorth, "for he has promised to take me to Homburg if he wins."
+
+"Don't talk, Ottilie," cried Frederick Orton, irritably; "don't you see
+they are just going to start!"
+
+The race began--the memorable race which crowned Invincible with the
+chief of his triumphs. Not even with "Carter up" was the Castilian able
+to make so much as a hard fight for it. The lovely chestnut was like a
+creature of elfin birth--it seemed as if he went without effort; the
+field toiling after him looked like animals of a lower breed.
+
+The wild yells of applause rang and echoed in the blue firmament--the
+mad excitement of racing for the moment mastered everyone, from the
+youth whose last sovereign hung on the event to the pretty, ignorant
+girl upon the drag, who had laid her pair of gloves with blind devotion
+on the daffodil satin as it flashed past.
+
+One small boy, held up on the shoulders of an elderly groom, added his
+shrill screams with delight to the tumult around.
+
+"Well done, Invincible! Well rode, Bartlett! Bravo! bravo! Didn't I tell
+my uncle he'd do it! Pulled it off easy! Knew he would! Look at poor old
+Carter! What a fool he looks! Ain't used to coming in a bad second! Let
+me down, Letherby, I want to find my uncle! I say, though, this is
+proper! I've made five pounds over this."
+
+"You just wait one minute, Master Godfrey, till the crowd is cleared off
+a trifle--you'll be jammed to death in this 'ere mob if you don't look
+out, and the master said I was to see to you. You stop where you are."
+
+"You old broken-winded idiot," shouted the child, a boy of fourteen,
+very small for his age, but handsome in a dark, picturesque style. "Do
+move on a bit, you are no good in a crowd. I can't stay here all
+day--elbow on!"
+
+Letherby accordingly "elbowed on" through the yelling, shouting mass of
+betting-men, followed by the excited, dancing boy, who kept on talking
+at the top of his voice.
+
+"Isn't it a sell for aunt, by Jove! She said she wouldn't give me five
+shillings to spend at Homburg next month, and now I've got five pounds!
+Why, Letherby, I knew a fellow who went to the table with five pounds,
+and came back with five hundred. I warrant you I have rare sport at
+Homburg!"
+
+"That I can answer for it, you won't," said his uncle's voice suddenly
+in his ear, and the urchin felt himself abruptly seized by his
+coat-collar with no gentle hand. "Thanks to the upshot of this
+confounded race," said Mr. Orton, angrily, "you won't go to Homburg at
+all, for I can't afford to take you; and what the deuce do you mean by
+hiding away here when you're wanted? Your aunt's going home, and you'll
+go with her. I'll have you out of harm's way."
+
+Godfrey Brabourne made no reply. He skulked at his uncle's heels with a
+look of sulky fury on his face which was not good to see. The spoilt boy
+knew that, on the occasions when his uncle was out of temper like this,
+silence was his sole refuge; but, if he did not speak, he thought, and
+his thoughts were not lovely, to judge from the expression of his eyes.
+
+Letherby hurried away to put-to the horses, knowing that in this mood
+his master would not brook waiting; and, in half-an-hour from
+Invincible's winning of the Hardwicke Stakes, Mr. Orton and his party
+were spinning along towards the Oaklands Park hotel, where they were
+spending Ascot week.
+
+A very subdued party they were. Spite of his winnings, Godfrey was
+silent and sullen. Mrs. Orton's temper was not proof against the
+shattering of all her plans for next month; she knew that, if she spoke
+at all, it would be to upbraid her husband, so she held her tongue; and
+he was in a state of mute fury, less at the loss of his money than at
+his own error of judgment in such a matter.
+
+The very impression of his silent wife's face irritated him. "I told you
+so," seemed written on every feature.
+
+When they arrived at the hotel, he petulantly flung his reins to the
+groom, and went indoors by himself, "as sulky as a bear with a sore
+head," mentally observed the wife of his bosom.
+
+At dinner there was Colonel Wynch-Fr�re, who had come in a couple of
+hours later, having been invited by some other friends.
+
+He was sitting at a table some distance from the Ortons, but afterwards
+joined them in the drawing-room. The dinner had been good, and
+Frederick's temper was improving; he was not an ill-tempered man, as a
+rule, and he was now half-ashamed of his late annoyance. Mrs. Orton was
+less placable; she sat aloof, and secretly longed to be able to say her
+say.
+
+The colonel strolled up.
+
+"Where's the boy?" he asked.
+
+"In the stables, I suppose--where he always is," said the boy's aunt,
+snappishly.
+
+How she had wanted to go to Homburg! The Davidsons were going, and the
+Lequesnes, and Charley Canova; what parties they would have got up! And
+now----
+
+"Godfrey's not always in the stables, Ottilie," said Fred, seating
+himself on a sofa at her side. "He has only gone now with a message from
+me. He'll be back directly."
+
+Frederick Orton was a rather picturesque young man of about
+five-and-thirty. He was dark, with brown eyes, and a short, pointed,
+Vandyck beard and moustache. The moustache hid his weak mouth. He was
+slight and pale, and looked delicate, which was probably the result of
+late hours and pick-me-ups.
+
+His wife was handsome, and rather large, a year or two younger than he,
+and showing an inclination to stoutness. Her eyes and complexion were
+striking, her voice deep and rather loud--a fine contralto--and her
+disposition energetic.
+
+She was very handsomely dressed for the evening in a dark-green dress
+covered with green beetle's wings, which flashed as she turned. The
+colonel rather liked her, though he never dared say so to Lady Mabel.
+
+"How is your Lady Mabel?" she asked of him, just as this thought was
+crossing his mind.
+
+"Lady Mabel is, as usual, having a good many adventures," he said,
+taking a chair near. "She has been on a driving-tour with her brother--"
+
+"Mr. Cranmer? I know him slightly," said Frederick.
+
+"Yes; they are in Devonshire, at a little place called Edge Combe, near
+Stanton."
+
+"Dear me! Isn't that where all those old maids live--the Miss
+Willoughbys?" said Ottilie, turning to her husband.
+
+He made one of the many English inarticulate sounds representing "Yes."
+
+"I wonder if Lady Mabel has come across Godfrey's step-sister, Elaine
+Brabourne?" she went on, in her deep contralto accents.
+
+"Oh, yes, certainly; she mentions a Miss--is your nephew's name
+Brabourne? I never knew it. Then his father used to be colonel of my
+regiment."
+
+"That's it," said Frederick, calmly. "Yes, he has a step-sister, I'm
+sorry to say, who has been brought up by a set of puritanical old
+maids--old hags, my poor sister used to call them."
+
+"Lady Mabel is staying with the Miss Willoughbys," said the colonel,
+rather red in the face.
+
+There was an uncomfortable pause; then Mr. Orton laughed lazily.
+
+"Put my foot into it," he said. "I usually do. Very sorry, I'm sure. I
+don't know the good ladies myself, and I expect my poor sister made them
+all sit up; she was as wild a girl as ever I saw, and they used to take
+her and set her down for hours in a rotting old church which smelt of
+vaults, and where the damp used to roll down the walls in great drops.
+She said it gave her the horrors. But that's a good many years back now,
+and I daresay they have changed all that."
+
+"My wife says they are--well--very primitive," said the colonel. "But
+she speaks of Miss Brabourne as a most lovely girl, who only needs a
+little bringing out."
+
+"Ottilie, you must have that girl up to town," remarked Frederick.
+
+"Why?" said his wife, stifling a yawn.
+
+"Because I think Godfrey ought to know her."
+
+"Godfrey hates girls."
+
+"Yes, because he is always alone, and gets spoilt--he ought to know his
+sister."
+
+"She is coming to stay in town with Lady Mabel in the autumn, when we
+are settled," said the colonel; and at that moment some one came up and
+claimed his attention, so he bowed to Mrs. Orton and withdrew.
+
+Later that night, Frederick, coming up to bed, tapped at his wife's
+door, and, on receiving a muffled "Come in," entered with a face full of
+news.
+
+"I say, what do you think Wynch-Fr�re has been telling me? Poor old
+Allonby has got smashed up in this very place--I mean Edge Combe--and
+Elaine Brabourne found him lying by the roadside! So now we shall be
+able to hear whether she really is as good-looking as Lady Mabel wants
+to make out."
+
+A ray of interest warmed Ottilie's face, and encouraged him to proceed.
+He acquainted her with all the details of the accident which he had been
+able to glean from the colonel; while she sat brushing out her long
+thick dark hair, and listening. When he had apparently chatted her into
+a better humor, he sat down on the dressing-table, and, leaning forward,
+looked at her wistfully.
+
+"I say, old girl, were you fearfully set on Homburg?"
+
+Her face hardened.
+
+"You know I was," she said, shortly.
+
+"Well, look here--can you think of anything we could do with that
+blessed child? I can't bear to disappoint you. I think it would run to
+it if we could get rid of him. He means an extra room and some one to
+look after him, and even then he's eternally in the way. Could we get
+rid of him for a little while? If so, I'll take you."
+
+"You're very good, Fred," she said, with alacrity. "I--I'm sorry I was
+so cross. I'll think that over about Godfrey. It would be a hundred
+times nicer without him."
+
+"My word, though, won't there be a shindy?" said Frederick, laughing. "I
+wonder what the young cub will say! He isn't used to being left behind;
+you've spoilt him, Ottilie."
+
+"I indeed? I like that! Why, from the moment he was born you allowed him
+to do just whatever he chose, and taught him such language----"
+
+"All right--of course it was all my fault, as usual; but now, am I a
+good boy?"
+
+"Yes, you are."
+
+"Well, then, kiss me."
+
+So a peace was sealed for the time.
+
+On their return to London, on the Monday following, two letters awaited
+them. One was from Wynifred Allonby, explaining that her brother was
+ill, and that she had gone to nurse him, and asking that he might have
+time allowed him to finish his commission pictures; the other was from
+Miss Ellen Willoughby, begging that Godfrey might spend his holidays at
+Edge.
+
+"Just the very thing! I'll pack him off there the first minute I can!"
+cried Mrs. Orton, joyful and exultant.
+
+Frederick smiled prophetically.
+
+"He will probably try his sister's temper," he remarked, placidly, "and
+that in no common degree; but then, on the other hand, he will doubtless
+enlarge her vocabulary considerably, so he cannot be looked upon in the
+light of an unmixed evil."
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XVIII.
+
+    "'Go to the hills,' said one remit a while
+    This baneful diligence--at early morn
+    Court the fresh air, explore the heaths and woods;"
+    ... 'I infer that he was healed
+    By perseverance in the course prescribed'
+    "You do not err; the powers that had been lost,
+    By slow degrees were gradually regained
+    The fluttering nerves composed; the beating heart
+    In rest established; and the jarring thoughts
+    To Harmony restored."
+
+    _The Excursion_
+
+
+The fresh air had never seemed so gloriously sweet to Osmond Allonby
+before.
+
+He sat in a roomy, comfortable arm chair, a shawl round his big limbs,
+and the light warm breeze that puffed up the valley bringing a faint
+color to his white face.
+
+He had two companions, Wynifred and Mr. Fowler. The girl sat on the
+grass, busy over some little piece of needle-work; Henry Fowler lay
+beside her, throwing tiny pebbles idly at the terrier's nose. A great
+peace brooded over Poole Farm--a peace which seemed to communicate
+itself to the three as they sat enjoying their desultory conversation.
+
+"And so," said Mr. Fowler, "Mr. Dickens returned to his own place
+yesterday, rendered absolutely despairing by his interview with your
+brother."
+
+"I know; it was laughable," said Allonby, laughing gently. "He almost
+gave me the lie, so determined was he that I had a secret enemy
+somewhere; I was quite sorry I couldn't oblige him with one, his
+disappointment was so painful to witness."
+
+"The worst of these detective police," returned his friend, "is that
+they will always pin their faith on some one particular feature of the
+case; they become imbued with a theory of their own, and in consequence
+blind and deaf to all that does not bear upon it. Mr. Dickens had
+settled that this was a vendetta, and he would entertain no other
+hypothesis."
+
+"The notion is absurd in the highest degree," said Osmond, with
+animation. "No! It was some tramp, you may be sure, and he was
+frightened, and made off before securing his booty. I must have looked a
+very easy prey, for I was sitting, as I have told you before, with my
+head on my hands, feeling rather done up. I have a dim recollection of a
+violent blow; I suppose it stunned me at once. Not a soul had passed me,
+I am sure; whoever it was came up behind, along the Combe road."
+
+"It would not be at all difficult for anyone who knew the country to
+conceal himself," said Mr. Fowler, meditatively, "but yet--the police
+watched well. Every neighboring village was searched, and all along the
+coast ... but these local police are easily deceived, you know. I wish I
+had been at home at the time."
+
+"I wish you had," said Wynifred, impulsively; and then half repented her
+impulse, for she received such a very plain look of thanks and pleasure
+from Mr. Fowler's kind eyes.
+
+From the first moment, he had been deeply struck with Miss Allonby; her
+character was as new to him as it was to Claud Cranmer, but he found her
+perfectly charming. Presents of fresh trout, of large strawberries,
+plump chickens, and invalid jellies daily arrived from the Lower House;
+and most afternoons the master would follow his gifts, and walk in,
+arrayed in his rough country clothes, very likely with a reminiscence of
+bricks or mortar somewhere on his coat sleeve, for he was building a
+house in the valley for some relations of his, and, as he was his own
+architect, the work necessitated a good deal of personal attention.
+
+Wynifred had been down to see the house in question, and then to tea at
+Edge Willoughby, and had been escorted back to Poole by Mr. Fowler in
+the starlight; and a most interesting walk it had been, for he knew
+every constellation in the heavens, and exactly where to look for each
+at any season of the year.
+
+A thorough liking for him had sprung up in her heart. The simplicity of
+his courteous manner was a rare charm; he was singularly unlike the
+London men of her acquaintance, with a modesty which was perhaps the
+most remarkable of his attributes.
+
+The little silence which followed her remark was broken by Osmond.
+
+"When is Cranmer coming down again?" he said.
+
+"Next week, I hope; sooner if he can. I had a letter from him this
+morning; he asked to be most particularly remembered to you and Miss
+Allonby, and inquired much after your health," said Mr. Fowler.
+
+"I am glad he was not down last week; the weather was so bad, he would
+not have known what to do," said Wyn.
+
+In fact, Claud had been reluctantly torn from Edge Combe by his despotic
+sister, who, when she got to London, found that to choose a house
+without his assistance was quite an impossibility. In such a matter, the
+colonel's opinion was never even asked; neither did he resent the
+omission in the least. If Mabel liked the house, he liked it too, and
+Claud would see after the stabling.
+
+So Claud went, and tramped Belgravia and even Kensington with
+submission; and, when at last a selection was made, found himself doomed
+to go down to Hunstanton with his tyrant and fetch up the children, the
+nurses, and the little governess for a week's shopping, previous to
+their being all swept off to Yorkshire, to be out of the way during the
+autumn at the castle of the earl, their grandpapa, whilst their mother
+went to make herself agreeable to her husband's constituents; in which
+last respect she certainly did her duty.
+
+In Mr. Cranmer's absence, the wounded man had grown stronger daily; had
+sat at his bedroom window, had made the circuit of his chamber, and now
+was promoted to sit in the garden; and Dr. Forbes exulted in the
+rapidity of his convalescence.
+
+"You see, there's everything in his favor," he said, complacently. "A
+fine constitution, a fine time of year--youth, and the best climate in
+England."
+
+It was highly satisfactory that he should make such excellent use of his
+advantages.
+
+"I feel to-day as if I could walk a mile," he said, with pride,
+stretching his long legs and arms and tossing his head.
+
+"I am glad you are feeling so well. You are going to have a visitor this
+afternoon--Miss Brabourne, who found you lying by the roadside; she is
+so eager to see you."
+
+Osmond blushed--actually blushed with pleasure. He was not very strong
+yet, and his heart beat stormily at thought of the coming meeting. All
+through his delirium a certain face had haunted him--a girl's face,
+which he always seemed to see when he closed his eyes. With returning
+consciousness the vision fled--he could not recall the features, but he
+had a feeling that they were the features of Elsa Brabourne, and that,
+if he saw her again, he should know her.
+
+"I'll go down as far as the stile, and see if I can see her," said Wyn;
+and, tossing her work to the ground, she rose and went wandering off
+among the flower-beds, singing to herself, and picking a rosebud here
+and there.
+
+"I envy you your sister, Mr. Allonby," said Henry Fowler.
+
+"Who? Wyn?" asked Osmond. "Yes she is a very good sort; but you should
+see Hilda and Jacqueline; they are both uncommonly pretty girls, though
+I say it."
+
+"I think Miss Allonby pretty."
+
+"Wyn? Oh, no, she isn't," was the fraternal criticism. "I've seen her
+look well, but you can't call her pretty; but I suppose she is
+attractive--some men seem to find her so."
+
+"Ah!" said Mr. Fowler.
+
+"But she is not at all impressionable," said Wyn's brother.
+
+Meanwhile Wyn was walking down the Waste in happy unconsciousness of
+being the subject of discussion, and presently was seen to wave her hand
+and begin to run forward. She and Elsa met in the middle of the Waste,
+and exchanged greetings. Jane Gollop was far behind--she was growing
+used to this now, and took it as a matter of course that the young feet
+which for years had dragged listlessly at her side should now, for very
+gaiety and youth, outstrip her.
+
+Now that Elsa's face wore that sparkling look of animation, now that her
+luxuriant tresses were piled classically on the crown of her beautiful
+head, the barbarity of her costume really sank into insignificance,
+triumphed over by sheer force of her fresh loveliness. Her glow of color
+made the pale Wynifred look paler, the girls were a great contrast.
+
+"How is Mr. Allonby? Is he going on well?" panted Elsa, before she had
+recovered her breath.
+
+"Capitally, thank you. Dr. Forbes says he never knew such a quick
+convalescence."
+
+"Oh, how glad I am! Is he ... do you think ... it is so very fine
+to-day ... is Mr. Allonby in the garden?"
+
+The shyness and confusion were very pretty, thought Wyn.
+
+"Yes," she said, delighted to be able to call the warm clear color into
+the speaking face. "He is sitting in the garden, and is so impatient to
+see you. Come this way."
+
+No need to speak twice. Elsa's feet seemed scarcely to touch the ground
+in their transit across the space which intervened between her and the
+hero of her dreams.
+
+Osmond would insist on rising from his chair to greet her; and his tall
+form looked taller than ever now that he was so thin.
+
+Elsa drew near, hardly knowing where she was or what she was
+doing--little recking that he was to the full as excited as she.
+
+They met; their hands touched; the girl could hardly see clearly through
+the mist of tears in her large speaking eyes. He looked straight at her,
+saw the crystal mist, saw one irrepressible drop over-brim the lid, and
+rest on the delicate cheek. A storm of feeling overcame him; he grew
+quite white.
+
+It was the face of the mystic queen in his visions of Avilion--it was
+beauty of the type he most passionately admired; and beauty which was
+stirred to its depths by pity and sympathy for him.
+
+He could say nothing articulate, neither could she. Their greeting was
+chiefly that of eyes, and of warmly grasping hands, for she had
+stretched both to him, and he had seized them.
+
+How long did it last? They did not know. To Osmond it seemed, like the
+dreams of his fever, to last for hours, and yet be gone like a flash.
+He only knew that presently he found himself seated again in his chair,
+his fingers released from the warm touch of hers; that she was sitting
+by him on Wynifred's vacated seat; that the skies had not fallen, nor
+the shadows on the grass lengthened perceptibly; and that neither Wyn
+nor Mr. Fowler expressed any surprise in their countenances, as if
+anything unusual had transpired.
+
+Apparently he had not openly made a fool of himself. He heaved a sigh of
+relief, and lay back among his cushions. There sat the lady of his
+dreams, no longer a phantom, a real girl of flesh and blood, with large
+eyes of morning grey fixed on him.
+
+He fancied how those calm eyes, like the misty dawn of a glorious day,
+would gradually warm and deepen into the torrid splendor of noon; when
+what was now only sympathetic interest should have strengthened into
+passionate love, when his voice, his touch should alone have power
+to----
+
+Alas! as usual, he was building an airy cloud-palace for his thoughts to
+live in; and here was the real earth, and here was himself, a poor,
+struggling young artist, a competitor in one of London's fiercest and
+most crowded fields of competition, and with three unmarried sisters to
+think of.
+
+And there was she--could he dream of it for her? The future of a poor
+man's wife. _Wife!_ The exquisite delight of that word, by force of
+contrast, calmed this enthusiast utterly. No. To him nothing nearer than
+a star, an ideal. His Beatrice, only to be longed for, never attained.
+
+And all this he had time to think of, while Wyn was cheerfully telling
+Elsa that he had that day eaten a piece of lamb, and "quite a great
+deal" of milky pudding for his dinner, which hopeful bulletin of his
+appetite was received with marked interest both by Mr. Fowler and his
+god-daughter.
+
+And then Elaine turned her bashful eyes on him, and he heard her voice
+saying,
+
+"I am so glad you are getting well so fast. I was very unhappy when they
+thought you would not live."
+
+"Were you?" he said, hoping his voice did not sound as queer to the
+others as it did to himself. "It was very philanthropical of you. That
+gift of pity is one of woman's most gracious attributes."
+
+Elsa was developing very fast, but she was not yet equal to replying to
+this speech.
+
+"I think I have been altogether far more fortunate than I deserve," went
+on Osmond. "Everyone in this fairy valley had vied in their efforts to
+be kind to me. Your good aunts, Mr. Fowler here, Mr. Cranmer and Lady
+Mabel, not to mention Dr. Forbes, Mrs. Battishill, and Mrs. Clapp."
+
+Elsa was still tongue-tied; and, oh! it was hard, when she had so much
+to say to him. How kindly he spoke! How handsome he looked when he
+smiled! If only she knew what to say!
+
+At this embarrassing juncture, Jane scrambled over the stile, grasping a
+covered basket. Like lightning the girl leaped up, ran to her nurse,
+and, taking her burden, carried it back to the young man's side.
+
+"I brought these for you," she faltered. "The strawberries are over, but
+here are white currants and raspberries ... raspberries are very good
+with cream. Do you like them?"
+
+"Like them? I should think so! My appetite is quite tremendous, as Wyn
+told you. Will you carry back my sincere thanks to Miss Willoughby for
+her kind thought?"
+
+She blushed, and then smiled, rising her face to his.
+
+"It was my thought," she said, timidly; "the aunts said they were not
+good enough to bring, and I went to Lower House for the currants," she
+concluded, nodding mischeviously to her godfather.
+
+"Like your impudence!" he answered, pretending to shake a fist at her.
+"Now, Miss Allonby, I must be going; won't you show me the picture you
+are doing of Saul Parker?"
+
+"Oh, yes, I should like to. I hope you will think it a good likeness,"
+answered Wyn, eagerly.
+
+She rose, and walked slowly into the house with Mr. Fowler, leaving the
+two seated together on the lawn, conscious of nothing in all the world
+but each other's presence.
+
+There was a little pause; then Elaine gathered courage. It was easier
+for them to talk with no listeners.
+
+"I saw you before you were hurt," she announced, blushing.
+
+"You saw me?" cried Osmond, devoured with interest. "Where? I never saw
+you."
+
+"No; I was behind your back. I was coming up to the farm; you were
+sitting at your easel. Your head was resting on your hands. I wanted to
+go and ask you if you were ill; but Jane hurried me on."
+
+"And I never knew," said Osmond, in a slow, absorbed way.
+
+"And so I asked Jane to go back round by the road because--because I
+wanted to see your face; and when we got there you were lying on the
+grass."
+
+Here the lip quivered. Allonby threw himself forward in his chair, his
+chin on his elbow.
+
+"I saw your face," he said, earnestly. "Tell me, did you not--were you
+not kneeling by me, and--and _weeping_?"
+
+The girl nodded, hardly able to speak.
+
+"You opened your eyes," she said, very low, after a pause, "and looked
+at me for a moment; but not as if you knew me."
+
+"But I saw you. Do you know"--sinking his voice--"that your face was
+with me all through my illness--your face, as I saw it to-day, with
+tears on your eyelashes?... I knew even your voice, when I have heard
+it in the garden, and I have been lying in bed. I knew when you laughed
+and when you spoke ... and I counted the hours till I should be well
+enough to see you and thank you. You'll let me thank you, won't you?"
+
+He took her hand again. The child--for she was no more--could not speak.
+It seemed as if light were breaking so swiftly in upon her soul that the
+glare dazzled her. She was helpless--almost frightened. Osmond saw that
+he must be careful not to startle or vex her. With a great effort he
+curbed his own excitement, and took a lighter tone.
+
+"Think what a benefactor in disguise my unknown assailant has been!" he
+cried brightly. "What have I lost? Nothing--absolutely nothing but a
+pudding-basin; what have I gained?" He made an eloquent sweep of the
+hand. "Everything! In fact, I can hardly realise at present what my gain
+is. To be ill--to be tenderly nursed--to have enquiries made all day by
+kind friends--to have my name in all the local papers--to be interviewed
+at least once a day by gentlemen of the press. I assure you that I
+never before was the centre of attraction; I hope it will last. That
+day's sketching in the lane may turn out to be the best stroke of
+business I ever did."
+
+"But," cried Elsa, remonstrating, "you don't count all the pain you had
+to bear?"
+
+"Pain!" he said, almost incoherently. "Did I? Have I borne pain? Oh, it
+counts for nothing, for I have forgotten all about it."
+
+"Really and truly? Have you forgotten it?"
+
+"Really and truly, just now. I may remember it presently, when I am
+crawling upstairs to bed to-night, with my arm round Joe Battishill's
+neck; but just now it is clean gone, and every day I shall grow
+stronger, you know."
+
+She did not answer. She saw fate, in the shape of Jane Gollop, bearing
+down upon her from the open farm-house door.
+
+"Miss Elaine, my dear, you wasn't to stay but a very little while
+to-day; and, if we don't start back, you won't be in time to go to the
+station with your Aunt Charlotte to meet your brother, you know."
+
+"To meet your brother!" echoed Osmond.
+
+"Yes." She turned to him. "He is my step-brother; I have never seen him
+since he was a baby."
+
+"Really? That sounds odd; but you are orphans; I suppose he is being
+brought up by other relations. I think it was cruel to separate you. How
+old is he?"
+
+"Just fourteen. I am glad he is coming at last."
+
+"I suppose so; and you will be so happy together that you will forget to
+come up to Poole and see the poor sick man?"
+
+"You _know_ I shall not. I shall bring Godfrey."
+
+"Yes, do. Please come soon. But I ought not to be so grasping, and I
+have never thanked you properly for coming to-day. What an unmannerly
+brute I am. Please forgive me! Don't punish me by staying away, will
+you?"
+
+She drew near, and spoke low, that Jane might not hear.
+
+"I shall come whenever they let me," she said, with vehemence; "whenever
+I don't come, you will know it is because I was forbidden. If they would
+allow it, I'd come _every single day_."
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XIX.
+
+                          I find you passing gentle.
+    'Twas told me you were rough, and coy, and sullen,
+    And now I find report a very liar;
+    For thou art pleasant, gamesome, passing courteous,
+    But slow in speech, yet sweet as spring time flowers:
+    Thou canst not frown, thou canst not look askance,
+    Nor bite the lip, as angry wenches will.
+
+    _Taming of the Shrew._
+
+
+It was quite an unusual event for Miss Charlotte Willoughby to be
+standing on the platform watching the arrival of the London train. Her
+preparation for the expedition had been made in quite a flutter of
+expectation. She was resolved to do her duty thoroughly by Godfrey
+Brabourne, much as she had disliked his mother. She had hopes that a
+stay in a household of such strict propriety, where peace, order, and
+regularity reigned supreme, might perchance work an improvement in the
+boy, do something to eradicate the pernicious influence of early
+training, and cause him, in after life, to own with a burst of emotion
+that he dated the turning-point in his career from the moment when his
+foot first trod the threshold of Edge Willoughby. This was a
+consummation so devoutly to be wished, as to go far towards reconciling
+the good lady to the presence of a boy in the virgin seclusion of the
+house. Elsa, at her side, was stirred to the deepest depths of her
+excitable temperament, each faculty poised, each nerve a-quiver as she
+hung bashfully back behind her aunt.
+
+There was a long wild howl, a dog's howl, followed by a series of sharp
+yelps and a sound of scuffling; a crowd collected round the dog-box. A
+small boy in an Eton suit dashed down the platform, parted the
+spectators right and left, and revealed to view the panic-stricken
+guard, with a bull-dog hanging to his trousers.
+
+"Ven! Come off, you confounded brute! How dare you!" cried the little
+boy in shrill tones, as he seized the dog by the collar, and dragged him
+off. "Didn't I tell you, you idiot," he went on to the guard, "not to
+touch him till I came! What fools people are, always meddling with what
+ain't their concern. Why couldn't you let my dog alone, eh? I don't pity
+you, blessed if I do," concluded he in an off-hand manner, cuffing his
+dog heartily, and shaking him at the same time. "I'll teach you manners,
+you scoundrel," he said, furiously; "and now, what am I to be let in for
+over this job? Has he drawn blood?"
+
+Elsa and her aunt were so absorbed, as was everyone else, in watching
+this episode, as to temporarily forget their errand at the station; but
+now the girl began to peer among the little crowd of bystanders, to see
+if she could spy anybody who looked like Godfrey.
+
+"Auntie," she whispered, "hasn't Godfrey come?"
+
+"I--am not sure."
+
+A cold fear, a presentiment, was stealing over Miss Charlotte's mind.
+Something in the voice, the air, the face of the dreadful boy with the
+bull-dog, reminded her uncomfortably of her deceased brother-in-law,
+Valentine Brabourne. She wavered a little, while vehement and angry
+recriminations went on between him and the railway-officials, noticed
+with a shudder how he felt in his trousers' pockets and pulled out loose
+gold, and was still in a state of miserable uncertainty when he turned
+round, and demanded, in high, shrill tones:
+
+"Isn't there anybody here to meet me from Edge Willoughby?"
+
+Both aunt and niece started, and gasped. Then Miss Charlotte went
+bravely forward.
+
+"Are you Godfrey Brabourne?" she asked, with shaking voice, more than
+half-ashamed to have to lay claim to such a boy before a little
+concourse of spectators who all knew her by sight. The guard lifted his
+cap, surprised, and half-apologetic.
+
+"Pardon, mum," he grumbled, "but I do say as a young gentleman didn't
+oughter travel with that dog unmuzzled. He didn't ought to do it; for
+you never know where the beast'll take a fancy to bite, and a man with a
+family's got hydrophobia to consider."
+
+"Hydrophobia! Hydro-fiddlestick!" cried Godfrey, making a grimace. "He
+ain't even broken the skin, and I've given you a couple of sovs.--a
+deuced lot more than those bags of yours ever cost." This speech
+elicited a laugh all round, and seemed to congeal Miss Charlotte's blood
+in her veins. "So now you just go round the corner and treat your
+friends. Why, if you had any sense, you wouldn't mind being bitten every
+day for a week at that price. How d'ye do, Miss Willoughby? My aunt
+Ottilie sent her kind regards, or something."
+
+"Will you--come this way?" said Miss Charlotte, desperately, possessed
+only by the idea of hastening from this scene of public disgrace. "Come,
+my dear, come! If the guard is satisfied, let the matter rest. I am sure
+it is very imprudent to travel with so savage a dog unmuzzled. Dear,
+dear! what are you going to do with him?"
+
+"Do with him? Nothing. He's all right; he's not mad. That ass must needs
+go dragging him out of the dog-box or something, that's all. He wouldn't
+hurt a fly."
+
+Miss Charlotte paused in her headlong flight from the station.
+
+"Godfrey, I regret--I deeply regret it, but I can on no account allow
+that beast to be taken up to the house. I cannot permit it--he will be
+biting everybody."
+
+"Oh, he's all right," was the cool retort. "Chain him up in the stables,
+if you're funky. Leave him alone. He'll follow the trap right enough if
+I'm in it. Now then, where are your cattle?"
+
+Miss Charlotte unconsciously answered this, to her, incomprehensible
+question by laying her lean hand, which trembled somewhat, on the handle
+of the roomy, well-cushioned wagonette which the ladies of Edge found
+quite good enough to convey them along the country lanes to shop in
+Philmouth, or call on a friend. The plump, lazy horse stood swishing his
+tail in the sunshine, and Acland, the deliberate, bandy-legged coachman,
+was in the act of placing a smart little portmanteau on the box.
+
+"Now then--room for that inside--just put that portmanteau inside, will
+you? I'm going to drive," announced Master Godfrey; and, as he spoke, he
+turned suddenly, and for the first time caught sight of Elsa.
+
+"Godfrey," said Miss Charlotte, "this is your sister Elaine."
+
+The boy stared a moment. Elaine's face was crimson--tears stood in her
+eyes; her appearance was altogether as eccentric as it well could be,
+for she wore the Sunday dress and hat to do him honor. To him, used as
+he was to slim girls in tailor-made gowns, with horsy little collars and
+diamond pins, perfectly-arranged hair, and gloves and shoes leaving
+nothing to be desired, the effect was simply unutterably comic. He
+surveyed his half-sister from head to foot, and burst into a peal of
+laughter. It was all too funny. His aunt was funny, the horse and trap
+funnier still; but this Elaine was funniest of all.
+
+"What a guy!" he said to himself, a sudden feeling of wrathful disgust
+taking the place of his mirth, as he angrily reflected that this strange
+object bore the name of Brabourne. Aloud he said:
+
+"I beg your pardon for laughing, but you have got such a rum hat on; I
+suppose anything does for these lanes." Then before anyone could dare to
+remonstrate, he was up on the box with the reins in his hand. "Now then,
+Johnnie," said he to the outraged Acland, "up with you. I'm going to
+drive this thing--is it a calf or a mule? Or is it a cross between an
+elephant and a pig? I suppose you bring it down for the luggage. What
+sort of a show have you got in your stables, eh?"
+
+To this ribald questioning, Acland, white with fury, made answer that
+the Misses Willoughbys had only one horse at present; at which the boy
+laughed loudly, and confided to him his opinion that "their friends must
+be an uncommon queer lot, for them to dare to show with such a
+turn-out."
+
+This dust and ashes Acland had to swallow, watching meanwhile the stout
+horse, Taffy, goaded up the hills with a speed that threatened apoplexy,
+and dashing down them with a rattle which seemed to more than hint at
+broken springs.
+
+And Elaine and her aunt sat inside, with Godfrey's portmanteau for
+company, and said never a word. Low as had been Miss Willoughby's
+expectations, little as she had been prepared to love the outcome of the
+Orton training, certainly this boy exceeded her severest thought; he
+out-heroded Herod.
+
+Elsa was simply choked; she could not say one word. She scrambled out of
+the wagonette at the door with a face from which the eagerness of hope
+had gone, to be replaced by a burning, baleful rage. She was furious;
+her self-love had been cruelly wounded, and hers was not a nature to
+forget. Of course she said nothing to her aunts. They had never
+encouraged her to divulge her feelings to them, and she never did. She
+rushed away to her old nursery, to stamp and gesticulate in a wild
+frenzy of anger and hurt feeling.
+
+Meanwhile Godfrey walked in, scowling. He had expected dulness, but
+nothing so terrible as this promised to be. Sulkily he ordered Venom,
+the bull-dog, to lie down in the hall, and stumbled into the
+drawing-room to shake hands, with ill-suppressed contempt, with all his
+step-aunts, who sat around in silent condemnation.
+
+Miss Ellen spoke first, thinking in her kindness to set the shy boy at
+ease.
+
+"You will be glad of some tea after your long journey; you must be
+thirsty."
+
+"Yes, I am thirsty; but I'm not very keen on tea, thanks. I'd sooner
+have a B and S, if you have such a thing; or a lemon squash."
+
+There was a dead silence.
+
+"Oh, don't you mind if you haven't got it," he said, easily; "a glass of
+beer would do."
+
+After a moment's hesitation Miss Ellen rang the bell, and ordered "a
+glass of ale," and then Miss Charlotte found her voice, and told their
+guest to go and chain up his dog in the stable.
+
+"Oh, all right! I'll go and cheek the old Johnnie with the stiff
+collar," he said; and so sauntered out, leaving the ladies gazing
+helplessly each at the other.
+
+All tea-time the visitor was considerably subdued, perhaps by the close
+proximity and severe expression of the sisterhood; but after tea Miss
+Charlotte told Elsa to put on her hat and take her brother round the
+garden. Once out of sight, Master Godfrey's tongue was loosed.
+
+"Whew! What a set of old cats!" he cried. "Have you had to live with
+them all your life? I'm sure I'm sorry for you, poor beggar."
+
+Elsa's smouldering resentment was very near ablaze.
+
+"What's the matter with my aunts?" she asked, defiantly.
+
+"What's the matter with your aunts? By Jove! that's good. What's the
+matter with _you_, that you can't see it? Such a set of old cautions!"
+he burst into loud laughter. "But you've lived with them till you're
+almost as bad! I never saw such a figure of fun! I say, what would you
+take to walk down Piccadilly in that get-up? I'm hanged if I'd walk with
+you, though?"
+
+"How dare you?" Elsa's cheeks and eyes flamed, she shook with passion.
+"How dare you speak to me like that? I hate you," she cried, "you rude,
+detestable child. I wish I had never seen you! Why do you come here? And
+I--I--I--was looking forward so to having you--I was! I was! I wish you
+had never been born--there!"
+
+"If she isn't snivelling, I declare! Just because I don't admire her
+bed-gown! Pretty little dear, then, didn't it like to be told that it
+was unbecomingly dressed? There, there, it should wear its things
+hind-part-before, if it liked, and carry a tallow candle on the tip of
+its nose, or any other little fancy it may have. As to asking me why I
+came here," he went on, with a sudden vicious change of tone, "I can
+tell you I only came because I was sent, and not because I wanted to.
+Uncle Fred and Aunt Ottilie are off to Homburg, and want to be rid of
+me, so they shipped me off here; and Uncle Fred told an awful whopper,
+for he said it was no end of a jolly place, and I could ride and drive.
+Ride what? A bantam cock? Drive what? A fantail pigeon, for that's all
+the live stock I can see on the estate, unless you count the barrel on
+four legs that brought us from the station, and which the old boy calls
+a horse; and now where's the tennis-ground?"
+
+"There isn't one."
+
+"Not a tennis-ground? Well, this is pleasant, certainly. Brisk up,
+whiney-piney, and tell me where's the nearest place I can get any
+tennis."
+
+"Now look here," said the girl, in a voice thick with emotion, "if you
+think you are going to speak to me like this, I can tell you you are
+dreadfully mistaken. How dare you!--how _dare_ you say such things! But
+I know. It is because the aunts all speak to me as if I were four years
+old, and order me about. You think you can do it too. But you shan't. I
+am taller and older than you. I will knock you down if you tease me
+again--do you hear? I will knock you down, I tell you, you impudent
+child!"
+
+Godfrey shut his left eye, poked his tongue out of the right-hand corner
+of his mouth, and leered at his sister.
+
+"You only try, my girl," he said, "you only try, and I'll make it hot
+for you. You'll find out you had better be civil to me, I can tell you,
+or I'll make you wish you were dead; so now."
+
+"I shall tell my aunts----!"
+
+"All right! You play the tell-tale, and you see what you'll get. I twig
+what you want--someone to lick you into shape--you've never had a
+brother. Well, now I've come, I'm going to spend my time in making you
+behave yourself and look like a Christian."
+
+She stamped her foot at him; she could hardly speak for wrath.
+
+"Do you know how old I am?"
+
+"No, and don't want to; I only know you're the biggest ass a man ever
+had for a sister, and that if I can't improve you a little, I won't let
+Aunt Ottilie have you up to town--for I wouldn't be seen with you; so
+now you know my opinion."
+
+"And you shall know mine. I think you the most cowardly, rude,
+detestable boy I ever met. I hate and despise you. I only hope you will
+be punished well one day for your cruelty to me."
+
+"Well, you are a duffer! Crying if anyone says a word to you! I say,
+who's the old boy coming up the path, getting over the stile at the end
+of the terrace?"
+
+The girl glanced up and recognised Mr. Fowler with a sense of passionate
+relief. He was the only person to whom she dared show her moods; in a
+moment she was sobbing in his arms.
+
+"Why, Elsie, what's this?" asked the quiet voice, as he stroked back her
+tumbled hair with caressing hand. "Look up, child. Is that Godfrey
+yonder?"
+
+"Oh, yes--yes--yes! And I hate him!... I ... hate him! I wish he had
+never come here to make me so unhappy! He is a bad boy! I wish I had
+never seen him!"
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XX.
+
+    Here all the summer could I stay,
+      For there's a Bishop's Teign
+      And King's Teign
+    And Coomb at the clear Teign's head,
+      Where, close by the stream,
+      You may have your cream,
+    All spread upon barley bread.
+      Then who would go
+      Into dark Soho
+    And chatter with dank-haired critics
+      When he can stay
+      For the new-mown hay
+    And startle the dappled crickets?
+
+    KEATS.
+
+
+A great bustle was rife in the little parlor of the "Fountain Head." A
+hamper was being packed, rugs strapped together, preparations in general
+being made. The excitement seemed to communicate itself to the village
+in some mysterious way; and small wonder. It was rarely that so many
+visitors from London haunted the Combe all at once; rarer still that so
+mysterious a celebrity attached to one of them; rarest of all that the
+Misses Willoughby should be giving a picnic-party.
+
+Yet so it was; and the weather, which, under the iron rule of St.
+Swithun, had "gone to pieces," as Osmond said, for the past three weeks,
+had now revived anew, full of heat and beauty and sunshine.
+
+In the doorway of the inn stood Osmond himself, and a tall, fine-looking
+girl with a brilliant complexion and large hazel eyes.
+
+"What a day for a pic-nic!" she cried, jovially. "And this place--I must
+freely admit that Wyn, prone as she is to rhapsody, has _not_ overdone
+it in describing the Combe. Oh, here comes Mr. Haldane, just in time. I
+hope you know we were on the point of starting without you," said she,
+with an attempt at severity, as a young man came slowly along the road
+leading from the village.
+
+"I should soon have caught you up," he said peacefully, raising his hat
+with a smile. "How are you this morning, Mr. Allonby? Still
+convalescent?"
+
+"I don't think the present participle is any longer applicable. I am
+convalesced--completely convalesced, and, it seems to me all the better
+for my accident."
+
+"So you are not cursing me for having recommended the Combe as a
+hunting-ground?"
+
+"Not in the least, I assure you."
+
+"Did you ever hear, Mr. Haldane," cried the girl, with a burst of
+laughter, "that the detective tried to assign poor old Osmond's blow on
+the head to your machinations?"
+
+"No! Really! You flatter me; what made him do that?" asked he, with
+imperturbable and smiling composure.
+
+"He thought you had some _arri�re pens�e_ in sending Osmond down here to
+paint."
+
+"Well, so I had."
+
+"You had?"
+
+"Of course. I knew he'd like the place so much that he'd want to spend
+all the summer here; and then I thought you and your sisters would come
+down; and then I thought I'd come down; and I have, you see."
+
+Jacqueline laughed merrily.
+
+"We're going to have such a good time to-day," she cried, "and, please,
+listen to me. You and Wyn are _not_ to talk shop. The first of you that
+mentions the R. A. Schools, or the gold medal pictures, or the winter
+exhibition, shall be sent to Coventry at once! Remember! You are under
+orders."
+
+"Well, I don't think I'm likely to forget it, as long as you are here to
+remind me, Miss Jacqueline. By-the-by, aren't you getting bored down
+here? Surely the Combe falls a trifle flat after the gaieties of Cowes?"
+
+"We are getting on pretty well so far, thank you; a school-treat the day
+after we arrived, an expedition to the quarries yesterday, a pic-nic
+to-day! I am managing to exist, but I can't think what we shall do
+to-morrow. The blackberries are not yet ripe, there are no ruins to
+explore, and not another school-feast for miles; there will be nothing
+for it but to go out in a boat and get drowned."
+
+"All right; I'll come too."
+
+"You can go out in a boat and get drowned to-day, if you like,"
+suggested Osmond. "Boats are in the programme."
+
+"So they are! I had forgotten. How late this Mr. Fowler is! Don't you
+think we had better go on, Osmond, and leave you and Wyn to follow?"
+
+"Certainly, if you like. Who is packing?"
+
+"_Need_ you ask? Hilda, of course. She always does everything she
+should. Wyn! Wyn! Are you ready?"
+
+"Coming!"
+
+Wyn emerged from the dark entry, and shook hands with Mr. Haldane.
+
+"I will send Hilda to you," she said, vanishing, and in a minute or two
+there appeared on the scene another tall girl, closely resembling
+Jacqueline in height and general appearance, and dressed exactly like
+her, down to the minutest detail. In fact the family likeness in all
+four Allonbys was strong, something distinctive in the curve of the
+chin, the setting on of the head, the steady glance of the eye, which
+made them all noticeable, whether handsome or not. They were, all four,
+people who, having once been seen, were not likely to be forgotten. Of
+his two younger sisters Osmond was justly proud. Their height, grace,
+and slenderness were striking, and the want of likeness in their
+dispositions completed the charm, by the rare virtue of being
+unexpected.
+
+Hilda was as reserved as Jacqueline was communicative, as statuesque as
+she was animated, as diligent and capable as she was lavish and
+reckless. The difference between them was this morning, however, much
+less obvious than the likeness, for Hilda was full of spirits, the whole
+of her sweet face irradiated with pleasure.
+
+They set off with young Haldane, chattering eagerly, the sound of their
+light laughter tossed behind them on the breeze as they climbed the
+steep grassy hillside to Edge, to join the rest of the party.
+
+They were hardly out of sight when Mr. Fowler and his dog-cart appeared
+down the road, the black horse's glossy flanks and polished harness
+reflecting the brightness of the sun.
+
+"Good morning," cried Osmond, blithely; "what a fresh lovely morning! We
+are ready and waiting for you."
+
+"We? Then I am to have the pleasure of driving Miss Allonby! That's all
+right. Cranmer came down yesterday evening, looking rather jaded; he
+seemed very glad to get here. He has gone on foot to join the others,"
+said Mr. Fowler, alighting and entering the dark cool passage of the
+inn.
+
+"Are you there Miss Allonby?"
+
+"Yes, here I am. Good morning, Mr. Fowler. Come and help me with this
+strap."
+
+He entered, and took her hand.
+
+"So you are all established here! What did Mrs. Battishill say to your
+desertion?"
+
+"She was very unhappy, but I could not help it. She totally declined to
+accept a penny for rent, and I wanted to have Hilda and Jac down, so I
+was obliged to move. I could not quarter my entire family upon her, it
+was too barefaced. There, how neatly you fastened that buckle! Now
+everything is ready. I'll call Tom to carry the hamper to the carriage."
+
+"You'll do no such thing; I shall take it myself. We are favored in our
+weather, are we not?"
+
+"That we are. In fact, everything is favorable to-day. My mental
+barometer is up at 'set-fair.' I have a mind to tell you why, and
+receive your congratulations all to myself. I heard from Barclay's
+to-day that my novel is to be put into a second edition. What do you
+think of that?"
+
+Mr. Fowler thought the occasion quite important enough to justify a
+second energetic grasping of Miss Allonby's little slim hand in his
+vigorous square palm; and the dialogue might have been for some time
+prolonged, had not Osmond cried out, from his position at the horse's
+head,
+
+"Now then, you two!"
+
+In a few minutes Wyn was enthroned beside Mr. Fowler in the high
+dog-cart, her brother had swung himself up behind with the hamper, and
+the swift Black Prince was off, delighted to be tearing along in the
+sunshine.
+
+"I am going to enjoy myself to-day, and forget all vexations," said
+Henry Fowler, in his quiet voice.
+
+"Vexations? Are you vexed? What is it?" asked Wyn, anxiously.
+
+"I am--a good deal vexed--about my Elsie," he answered, with a sigh.
+"Poor little lass! I think she is deeply to be pitied."
+
+"So do I," said Wyn, promptly; and Osmond cut in from behind.
+
+"I should like to lick that cheeky little beast of a boy."
+
+"There's the rub--you can't lick the child, he's too delicate," said
+Henry, with a sigh. "I took him by the shoulder and shook him the other
+day, and he turned as white as a sheet and almost fainted. He is a mass
+of nerves, and has no constitution; careful rearing might have done
+something for him, but he is accustomed to sit up all night, lie in bed
+all day, drink spirits, and smoke cigars--a poor little shrimp like
+that! It is a terrible trial to Elsie; one that I'm afraid she's not
+equal to," he concluded, slowly, his eyes rivetted on the lash of his
+whip, with which he was flicking the flies from Black Prince's pretty
+pricked-up ears.
+
+"She ought never to be called upon to endure it--they ought to send the
+little imp away," said Osmond, indignantly.
+
+"He does not show himself in his true colors before the Miss
+Willoughbys--this is where I can't forgive him," returned Mr. Fowler,
+sternly. "The child is a habitual liar--you never know for a moment
+whether he is telling the truth or not. His dog worried two of my sheep
+yesterday; the shepherd absolutely saw the brute in the field, and
+he--Godfrey--coolly told me that Ven had been chained in the yard all
+that morning. It was then," he added, with a half-smile, "that I shook
+him; I would have liked to lay my stick about him, but one can't touch
+such a little frail thing; and his language--ugh! That Elsa should ever
+hear such words makes one grind one's teeth. I never saw such a young
+child so completely vitiated."
+
+"What a misfortune!" said Wyn.
+
+"You are right; it is a real misfortune. I am very doubtful as to what
+steps I ought to take in the matter. Did you hear of his setting his
+bull-dog at Saul Parker, the idiot? The poor wretch had one of his fits,
+and his mother was up all night with him. Little cur! Cruelty and
+cowardice always go together: but think what his bringing up must have
+been."
+
+"I wonder Mr. and Mrs. Orton are not ashamed to send him visiting;
+Osmond knows something of the Ortons, you know."
+
+"Indeed!"
+
+"Yes; they have one of the new big houses up in our part of London, and
+Mr. Orton is something of a connoisseur in pictures. Osmond is painting
+two for him now."
+
+"Yes," said Osmond, laughing, "but now I go out armed, and escorted by a
+_cordon_ of sisters to keep off murderers; landscape-painting has become
+as risky a profession as that of newspaper-reporter at the seat of war.
+I really think I ought to allow for personal risk in my prices, don't
+you, Fowler?"
+
+A brisk "Halloo!" startled them all; and, looking eagerly forward, they
+became aware of a group gathered together at some distance ahead, at the
+point where the road ended, and gave way to a winding pathway among the
+chalk cliffs. Very picturesque and very happy they all looked--Wyn
+longed to coax them to stand still, and take out her sketch-book.
+
+The wagonette stood a short way off, with two Miss Willoughbys, Miss
+Fanny and Miss Emily, seated in it. Acland was unloading the provisions
+and handing them to Jane. Hilda, Jacqueline, and Elsa were sitting on
+the grassy chalk boulders, with Mr. Haldane, Claud Cranmer, Dr. Forbes,
+and Godfrey as their escort.
+
+As the party in the dog-cart drew near, Osmond's eyes sought out Elsa.
+She was looking charming, for the aunts had taken Wyn into confidence on
+the subject of their niece's costume, and her white dress and shady hat
+left little to be desired. She and the Allonby girls had been plucking
+tall spires of fox-glove to keep off the annoying flies; Mr. Cranmer was
+arranging a big frond of diletata round Hilda's hat for coolness; and
+over all the lovely scene brooded the sultry grandeur of early August,
+and the murmur of the sea washing lazily at the feet of the scorched red
+cliffs.
+
+The spot selected for pic-nicking was a shelving bit of coast known as
+the Landslip. A large mass of soil had broken away in the middle of the
+seventeenth century, carrying cottages and cattle to headlong ruin. Now
+it lay peacefully settled down into the brink of the bay, the great scar
+from whence it had been torn all riddled with gull's nests. The chatter
+and laughter of the birds was incessant, and there was something almost
+weird to Wynifred in the strange "Ha-ha!" which echoed along the cliffs
+as the busy white wings wheeled in and out, flashing in the light and
+disappearing.
+
+"They are teaching the young to fly," explained Mr. Fowler. "If you came
+along here next week, you would find all silent as the grave."
+
+"I am glad they are not flown yet," said Wyn. "I like their laughter,
+there is something uncanny about it."
+
+Mr. Cranmer was passing, laden with a basket.
+
+"Characteristic of Miss Allonby! She likes something because it is
+uncanny!" he remarked. "Is there anything uncanny about _you_, Fowler,
+by any chance?"
+
+"What has upset Cranmer?" asked Henry, arching his eyebrows.
+
+"I don't know, really. Suppose you go and find out," said Wyn, laughing
+a little.
+
+It was her greeting of him which had annoyed Claud; and Wyn was keen
+enough to gauge precisely the reason why it had annoyed him.
+
+He had scarcely seen her since the evening when he and she had walked
+from the village to Poole together. A vivid remembrance of that walk
+remained in his mind, and he had been determined to meet her again in
+the most matter-of-fact way possible. He told himself that it would be
+ungentlemanly in the extreme to so much as hint at sentimental memories,
+when he was not in the least in love, and had no intention of becoming
+so. Accordingly his "How do you do, Miss Allonby?" had been the very
+essence of casual acquaintanceship. Wyn, on her side, was even more
+anxious than he that her momentary weakness should be treated merely as
+a digression. She had been very angry with herself for having been so
+stirred; for stirred she had been, to such an unwonted extent, that
+Claud had been scarcely a moment out of her thoughts for two days after.
+The very recollection made her angry with herself. She met him on his
+own ground; if his greeting was casual, hers was even more so. It was
+perfect indifference--not icy, not reserved, so as to hint at hidden
+resentment, hidden feeling of some kind, but simply the most complete
+lack of _empressement_; his hand and himself apparently dismissed from
+her mind in a moment; and this should have pleased Claud, of
+course,--only it did not.
+
+He asked himself angrily what the girl was made of. His usually sweet
+temper was quite soured for the moment; impossible to help throwing a
+taunt behind him as he passed her, impossible to help being furious when
+he perceived that the taunt had not stung at all. He looked round for
+Elsa Brabourne, that he might devote himself to her; but she was
+entirely absorbed in the occupation of finding a sheltered place for
+Allonby, where he might be out of the sun.
+
+Jacqueline and young Haldane were laying the cloth together, and doing
+it so badly that Hilda seized it from them and dismissed them in
+disgrace, proceeding to lay it herself with the assistance of old Dr.
+Forbes, who had fallen a hopeless victim at first sight. Jacqueline and
+Haldane went off, apparently quarrelling violently, down to the shore,
+and were presently to be seen in the act of fulfilling their threat of
+going out in a boat and getting drowned. Mr. Fowler shouted to them not
+to go far, as dinner would be ready at once, and hastened off to pilot
+dear little Miss Fanny safely down the rocky pathway to a seat where she
+might enjoy her picnic in comfort. Everyone had been relieved, though
+nobody had liked to say so, when Miss Charlotte announced that picnics
+were not in her line.
+
+Wyn had been bitterly disappointed that it was not possible to bring
+Miss Ellen; but the invalid's health was growing daily feebler, and she
+was now quite unequal to the exertion of the shortest drive. So Miss
+Fanny, fortified by Miss Emily, had set out, with as much excitement and
+trepidation as if she had joined a band for the discovery of the
+north-west passage; and now, clinging to Henry Fowler's arm, was
+carefully conducted down the perilous steps towards the place of
+gathering. Wyn was left standing by herself, watching with a smile the
+manoeuvres of Jac and Haldane in their boat below, and Claud was left
+with a scowl watching Wyn.
+
+After standing silently aloof for several minutes, he went slowly up to
+her.
+
+"Your brother has made wonderful progress since I left, Miss Allonby,"
+he remarked, stiffly.
+
+"Yes, hasn't he?" she said, with a smile, her eyes still fixed on the
+boat. "Do just look at my sister; she is trying to pull, and she is only
+accustomed to Thames rowing; she does not know what to do without a
+button to her oar."
+
+He did not look, he kept his eyes rivetted on her calm face.
+
+"You look much better for your stay in Devonshire, too," he said,
+determined to make the conversation personal.
+
+"Yes, so the girls say. I was rather over-worked when I first came down.
+How calm it is, isn't it? Hardly a wavelet. I think even I could go out
+without feeling unhappy to-day."
+
+"May I take you presently? I am pretty well used to sea-rowing. My
+brother's place in Ireland is on the coast."
+
+"Thanks, I should like to come; we will make up a party--Hilda and Mr.
+Fowler----"
+
+"You are determined to give me plenty of work. I suggested pulling one
+person--not three. There are four boats; let them take another; but
+perhaps you don't care to go without Mr. Fowler."
+
+This speech approached nearer to being rude than anything she had ever
+heard from the courteous Claud. It made her very angry. She lifted her
+eyes and allowed them to meet his calmly.
+
+"It certainly adds greatly to my pleasure to be in Mr. Fowler's
+society," she said very tranquilly; "he is one of the most perfect
+gentlemen I ever met."
+
+"You are right, he is," said Claud, almost penitently; and just at this
+juncture Godfrey tore by like a whirlwind, shouting out at the top of
+his voice,
+
+"Dinner! Dinner! Dinner's ready! Look alive, everybody! Come and tackle
+the grub!"
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXI.
+
+    Is she wronged? To the rescue of her honor,
+                My heart!
+
+    _Song from "Pippa Passes."_
+
+
+The dinner was a most hilarious repast. It was impossible to resist the
+infectious good spirits of the Allonby girls, and Godfrey was duly awed
+and held in check by the presence of Mr. Fowler.
+
+Elsa sat, her eyes wide open, drinking in, word by word, all this fresh
+thrilling life which was opening round her. Girls and their ways were
+becoming less and less of a mystery to her; the expression which had
+been so wanting was now informing all the pretty features, making her
+beauty a thing to be wondered at and rejoiced over by the impressionable
+Osmond. Dinner over, all dispersed to seek their pleasure as seemed best
+to them; and Mr. Fowler, who appeared to have constituted himself surety
+for Godfrey's good behavior, ordered the boy to come out in the same
+boat with him. But he was not cunning enough for the spoilt child.
+
+"Likely," remarked Master Brabourne, "that I'm going to pass the
+afternoon dangling from that old joker's watch-chain. Not much; no,
+thank you; I'd sooner be on my own hook this journey, any way; so you
+may whistle for me, Mr. Fowler."
+
+After this muttered soliloquy, he at once obliterated himself, so
+completely, that nobody noticed that he was missing, and Henry embarked
+with Hilda Allonby and Miss Emily Willoughby, and was half-way across
+the bay before he remembered the tiresome child's existence. Miss Fanny
+declined the perils of the deep, and stayed on shore; Wynifred remained
+with her for a few minutes, to see that she was happy and comfortable
+and, on turning away at last, found that there was nobody left for her
+to pair off with but Mr. Cranmer, who stood doggedly at a short
+distance, watching her.
+
+"What shall we do?" he asked.
+
+"I don't mind. What is everyone else doing?"
+
+"Going out in boats. Are you anxious to be in the fashion?"
+
+"Yes, I think so. Is there a boat left?"
+
+"There is. Come down this way."
+
+It rather vexed Wynifred to find herself thus appropriated. It had been
+her intention to steer clear of Claud, and now here he was, glued to her
+side for the afternoon. However, there was really no reason for
+disquiet; since her momentary lapse she had taken herself well in hand,
+and felt that she had the advantage over him by the fact of being
+warned.
+
+As they slipped through the blue water, she turned her eyes to land, and
+there saw a sight which, for no special reason, seemed to cast a tinge
+of sadness over her mood. It was only Osmond and Elsa, side by side,
+wandering inland, slowly, and evidently in deep conversation. In a few
+seconds the chalk boulders would hide them from view; Wyn watched their
+progress wistfully, and then, suddenly withdrawing her gaze, found that
+of her companion fixed upon her.
+
+"I ought to apologize for saying anything," he said, deprecatingly, "but
+that is a pretty obvious case, isn't it?"
+
+"Is it?"
+
+He suddenly aimed one of his shafts of ridicule at her.
+
+"A novelist and so unobservant?"
+
+"Oh, no," said Wyn, gravely, leaning forward, her chin on her hand, and
+still following the couple with her eyes. "I am not unobservant."
+
+"Yet you don't see that your brother is attracted?"
+
+"I see it quite well."
+
+"Your tone implies dissatisfaction. Don't you like Miss Brabourne?"
+
+"You ask home questions; I hardly feel able to answer you. I know so
+little of her."
+
+He arched his eyebrows.
+
+"Is hers such a very intricate character?"
+
+"I don't know about intricate; perhaps not, but it is remarkably
+undeveloped."
+
+"Don't you like what you have seen of her?"
+
+Wyn hesitated.
+
+"I think I ought not to make her the subject of discussion; it doesn't
+seem quite kind."
+
+"I beg your pardon, it is my fault. I have been trying to make you talk
+about her, because I honestly wanted your opinion. I have studied the
+young lady in question a good deal; but I am one who believes that you
+should go to a woman to get a fair opinion of a woman."
+
+"What!" cried Wyn, with animation. "Take care! You could not mean that,
+surely! It is too good to be true. Have I at last discovered a man who
+believes that woman can occasionally be impartial--who is not convinced
+that the female mind is swayed exclusively by the two passions of love
+and jealousy? This is really refreshing! Yes, I do believe you are
+right. A woman should be judged by the vote of her own sex. Of course,
+one particular woman's opinion of her may very likely be biassed. I
+don't pretend to say that women are not sometimes spiteful--I have known
+those who were. But to say that some fair young girl will be
+deliberately tabooed by all the girls she knows, simply because she
+happens to be attractive to gentlemen, is a fiction which is the
+monopoly of the male novelist. I have never known a woman really
+unpopular among women without very good cause for it."
+
+"Exactly. Well, this being so, I shall attach great weight to your
+opinion of Miss Elsa."
+
+"In that case, I had far better not give it; besides, I am only one
+woman, and the fact that my brother is evidently much attracted by the
+subject of our conversation is very likely to make my judgment
+one-sided. You know, I think nobody good enough for Osmond."
+
+"Most natural; yet I would go bail for the candor of your judgment."
+
+"Would you? I am not sure whether I would. I have not much to go upon,"
+she said, musingly.
+
+"You have allowed me to gather this much--that you are not particularly
+favorably impressed," he said, cunningly. "You had better give me your
+reasons."
+
+She made a protesting gesture.
+
+"It is not fair--I have said nothing," she answered. "I tell you I can
+form no opinion worth having. I only know two points concerning
+Elsa--she is very beautiful and very unsophisticated. I don't know that,
+in my eyes, to be unsophisticated is to be charming; I know it is so in
+the opinion of many. I should say that where the instincts of a nature
+are noble, it _is_ very delightful to see those impulses allowed free
+and natural scope--no artificial restraint--no repression; but I think,"
+she continued, slowly, "that some natures are better for training--some
+impulses decidedly improved by being controlled."
+
+"I should think Miss Brabourne had been controlled enough, in all
+conscience."
+
+"No," said Wyn, "she has only not been allowed to develop. The Misses
+Willoughby have never taught her to restrain one single impulse, because
+they have failed to recognise the fact that she has impulses to
+restrain. They do not know her any better than I do--perhaps not so
+well."
+
+"Very likely," said Claud; "I see what you mean. You think it would be
+unjust to her to pronounce on a character which has had, as yet, no
+chance of self-discipline?"
+
+"Exactly," agreed Wyn, with a sigh of relief at having partly evaded
+this narrow questioning. She did not like to say to him what had struck
+her several times in her intercourse with Elsa, namely, that there was a
+certain want in the girl's nature--a something lacking--an absence of
+traits which in a disposition originally fine would have been pretty
+sure to show themselves.
+
+Wynifred was anxious for Osmond. She had never seen him seriously
+attracted before. Claud did not know, as she did, how significant a fact
+was his present exclusive devotion, and was naturally not aware of the
+consistency with which the young artist had always held himself aloof
+from the aimless flirtations which are so much the fashion of the day.
+
+In the present state of society it needs a clever man to steer clear of
+the charge of flirting, but Osmond Allonby had done it, whilst eminently
+sociable, and avowedly fond of women's society, he had managed that his
+name should never be coupled on the tongues of the thoughtless with that
+of any girl he knew.
+
+But now----! Every rule and regulation which had hitherto governed his
+life seemed swept away. Old limits, old boundaries were no more. The
+power of marshalling his emotions and finding them ready to obey when he
+cried "Halt!"--a power he possessed in common with his sister
+Wynifred--was a thing of the past. Even Wyn's loving eyes, following him
+so sympathetically, could not guess the completeness of his surrender.
+All the deep, carefully-guarded treasure of his love was ready to be
+poured out at the feet of the golden-haired, white-robed Elsa at his
+side. He would not own to himself that his attachment was likely to
+prove a hopeless one. With the swiftness of youth in love, his thoughts
+had ranged over the future. He was making a career--Wyn was following
+his example, in her own line. Jacqueline and Hilda were too pretty to
+remain long unmarried.
+
+Concerning Elsa's heiress-ship he was not half so well-informed as Claud
+Cranmer. But indeed the question of ways and means only floated lightly
+on the top of the deep waves of feeling that filled his soul. His Elaine
+seemed to him a creature from another sphere--isolated, innocent, and
+wilful as the Maid of Astolat herself. Probably few young men in the
+modern Babylon could have brought her such an unspent, single-hearted,
+ideal devotion; his love was hardly that of the nineteenth century.
+
+The only difficulty he experienced, in walking at her side, was to check
+himself, to so curb his passion as to be able to talk lightly to her;
+and, even through his most ordinary remarks, there ran a vibration, a
+thrill of feeling, "the echo in him broke upon the words that he was
+speaking," and perhaps communicated itself to the mood of the
+uncomprehending girl.
+
+"Now," he said, as after several minutes' silence they seated themselves
+at last, sheltered from sun and breeze, under the shadow of a chalk
+cliff. "Now at last I claim your promise."
+
+"My promise?"
+
+"Yes, you know what I asked you when we met to-day. You were looking
+like Huldy in the American poem,
+
+      'All kind o' smily round the lips,
+    An' teary round the lashes.'
+
+You said that when we were alone you'd tell me why. What was it?"
+
+A flash of sudden, angry resentment crossed the girl's fair face, and
+tears again welled up to the edges of her limpid eyes. Osmond thought he
+had never seen anything so lovely as her expression and attitude. If one
+could but paint the quick, panting heave of a white throat, the quiver
+of a sad, impetuous mouth.
+
+"You can guess--it was the usual thing--Godfrey," she said, struggling
+to command her voice, but in vain. She could say no more, but turned her
+face away from him, swallowing tears.
+
+Osmond felt a sudden movement of helpless indignation, which almost
+carried him away. He mentally applied the brake before he could answer
+rationally.
+
+"It is abominable--unheard of!" was the calmest expression he could
+think of. "Something must be done--quickly too! I should like to wring
+the insolent little beggar's neck for him! What did he do, to-day?"
+
+For answer she pushed up her sleeve, showing him two livid bruises on a
+dazzlingly white arm--an arm with a dimpled round elbow.
+
+"I caught him smoking in the stable, which is forbidden because of
+setting fire to the straw," she faltered, "and I told him he ought not
+to do it, so he did what he calls the 'screw.' You don't know how it
+hurts!"
+
+Osmond's wrath surmounted even his love.
+
+"But why don't you box his ears--why don't you give him a
+lesson--cowardly little beggar!" he cried. "You are bigger than he, Miss
+Brabourne, you ought to be more than a match for him!"
+
+A burst of tears came.
+
+"I don't even know how to hit," she sobbed, childishly. "I don't know
+anything that other people know; and, if I tell of him, he pays me out
+so dreadfully! He puts frogs in my bed, and takes away my candle, and
+the other night he dressed up in a sheet, and made phosphorous eyes, and
+nearly frightened me out of my senses, and I don't dare tell
+because--because he would do something even worse if I did! Oh, you
+don't know what he is. He catches birds and mice, and cuts them up
+alive--he says he is going to be a doctor, and he is practising
+vivisection; and he makes me look while he is doing it--if I don't he
+has ways of punishing me. He made me smoke a cigar, and I was so
+terribly sick, and he made me steal the sideboard keys, and get whiskey
+for him, and said if I did not he would tell aunts something that would
+make them forbid me to come to the picnic. He was tipsy last night," she
+shuddered, "really tipsy. He made me help him up to his room, and tell
+aunts he was not well, and could not come down to supper. Oh!" she burst
+out, "you don't know what my life is! He makes me miserable! I hate him!
+But I daren't tell, you don't know what he would do if I told!" Her face
+crimsoned with remembrance of insult. "I _can't_ tell you the worst
+things, I can't!" she cried, "but he is dreadful. Every little thing I
+say or do, he remembers, and seems to see how he can make me suffer for
+it. I have no peace, day or night; and he is so good when aunts are
+there. They don't know how wicked he is."
+
+"But surely," urged Osmond, gently, "if you were to tell the Misses
+Willoughby, they would send him home, and then you would be free from
+him?"
+
+She dashed away the tears from her eyes, and shook her head with a smile
+full of bitterness.
+
+"They wouldn't believe me," she said, "they never have believed me; that
+is, Aunt Charlotte wouldn't, and she is the one who rules. They would
+call Godfrey and ask if it was true, and he--he thinks nothing of
+telling a lie. Oh! he is a sneak and a coward! If you knew how he has
+curried favor since he has been here! Aunt Charlotte likes him--she will
+give him things she would never give me! She would never believe my word
+against his."
+
+"Miss Brabourne--Elsa," faltered the young man tenderly, "Don't sob
+so--you break my heart--you--you make me--forget myself!"
+
+He leaped to his feet. Poor fellow, his self-command was rapidly
+failing. It had needed but this, the sight of helpless distress in his
+ladylove, to finish his subjugation. He was raging with love, and a
+burning impotent desire to thrash Master Godfrey Brabourne within an
+inch of his life. Yet, as Henry Fowler had said, how could one touch
+such a scrap of a child, such a delicate, puny boy?
+
+He knew well enough the power such a young scoundrel would have to
+render miserable the life of a timid girl, unused to brothers. Elsa had
+never learned to hold her own, never learned to be handy or helpful. She
+was most probably what boys call a muff, a fit butt for the coarse
+ridicule and coarser bullying of the ill-brought-up Godfrey. That
+helplessness which in the eyes of her lover was her culminating charm
+was exactly what to the boy was an irresistible incentive to cruelty.
+
+Osmond turned his eyes on the drooping figure of the girl. She was
+leaning forward, her elbow on her knee. Her hollowed hand made a niche
+for her chin to rest in, and her profile was turned towards him as she
+gazed sadly seawards. On her cheek lay one big tear, and the long, thick
+lashes were wet.
+
+He came again to her side, and knelt there. Flushing at his own
+boldness, he took her hand. It trembled in his own, but lay passive.
+
+"Elsa," he said, tenderly, soothingly, "it will not be for long, you
+must not let this wretched child's mischief prey upon you so. I know how
+badly you feel it, but consider--he will be gone in a few days."
+
+"Oh, no, no, that is just what is so hateful! He will be here for weeks!
+Mr. Orton has been taken ill at Homburg, and aunts have promised to
+keep him till they come back. Oh,"--she snatched away her hand and
+clasped it with the other, as if hardly conscious of what she did,--"oh,
+I can bear it now, when you are all here; but next week--next week--when
+there will be no Wynifred, no Hilda, no Jacqueline ... no you!... what
+shall I do then?"
+
+"Elaine!"
+
+"When I think of it, I could kill him!" cried the girl, her face
+reddening with the remembrance of insults which she could not repeat to
+Osmond. "You don't know what a wicked mind he has--he is like an evil
+spirit, sent to lure me on to do something dreadful! When he speaks so
+to me, I feel as if I must silence him--as if I could strike him with
+all my force. Suppose--suppose one day I could not restrain myself...."
+
+She was as white as a sheet, as she suddenly paused.
+
+"What was that noise?" she panted.
+
+"What noise?" he asked.
+
+"I thought I heard Godfrey's whistle--there is a noise he
+makes sometimes".... Her face seemed paralysed with fear and
+dislike--involuntarily, she drew nearer to Osmond. "If he should have
+heard me!" she breathed, with her mouth close to his ear.
+
+"How could he hurt you when I am with you?" cried he, passionately. "My
+darling, my own, you are quite safe with me!"
+
+His arms were round her before he had realised what he was doing. It
+seemed his divine right to shield her--his vocation, his purpose in life
+to come between her and any danger, real or fancied.
+
+A yell, quite unlike anything human--a rush of loose pebbles and white
+dust, a crash on the path close to the unwary couple, and a long
+discordant peal of laughter.
+
+"Cotched 'em! Cotched 'em! Cotched 'em by all that's lovely! Done 'em
+brown, bowled 'em out clean! Oh, my dears, if you only did know what
+jolly asses you both look, spooning away there like one o'clock! I'm
+hanged if I ever saw anything like it. I wouldn't have missed it--no,
+not for--come, I say, let go of a feller, Mr. Allonby. Lovers are fair
+game, don't yer know!"
+
+If ever any man felt enraged it was Osmond at that moment; the more,
+because he saw how undignified it was to be in a rage at all. Revulsion
+of feeling is always unpleasant, and nothing could be more complete than
+the revulsion from the purest of sentiment to the most contemptible of
+practical jokes.
+
+Elsa cried out in a mingled anger and terror--the ludicrous side of a
+situation never struck her by any chance. Osmond, as he sprang up and
+collared the impudent young miscreant, was divided between a desire to
+storm and a desire to roar with laughter. The former gained the
+ascendency as he looked back at Elsa's white face.
+
+"You impertinent young scamp," he said, between his teeth, "I've a great
+mind to give you such a punishment as you never had in your life, to
+make you remember this day!"
+
+"You daren't," said Godfrey, coolly, "you daren't flog me, I'm delicate.
+You'll have to settle accounts with my uncle if you bring on the
+bleeding from my lungs. My tutor ain't allowed to touch me."
+
+"You sickening little coward--you sneak," said Osmond, with scathing
+contempt. "A spy--that's what you are. I hope you are proud of yourself.
+Look how you have startled your sister."
+
+"Pretty little dear--a great lump, twice my size," sneered Godfrey,
+grinning. "Look at her, blubbing again! She does nothing but blub. Stop
+that, Elaine, will you?"
+
+"All right, young man," said Osmond, "I can't flog you, but I think I
+can take it out of you another way just as well. Don't flatter yourself
+you are going to get off so easily. I'll teach you a lesson of manners,
+and I'll make it my business that the Miss Willoughbys and Mr. Fowler
+know how you have behaved--not to-day only. You little cur, how dare
+you?"
+
+"Who's old Fowler? He can't touch me. Keep your hair on. What are you
+going to do with me?"
+
+"I'm going to keep you out of mischief for a bit," said Osmond, as he
+skilfully laid the boy down on the grass with one dexterous motion of
+his foot, and, producing two thick straps from his pocket, he proceeded
+to strap first his feet and then his hands together.
+
+"Pooh! What do I care? I've had my fun, and I'm ready to pay for it. Oh,
+my stars, wasn't it rich to hear Elsa coming the injured innocent and
+laying it on thick for her beloved's benefit? I heard every word you
+both said!" cried Godfrey, convulsed with laughter.
+
+"If you say another word, I'll gag you."
+
+"Gag away! I've heard all I want to, and said all I want to, too. Good
+old Allonby, so you believe all the humbug she's been telling you? You
+old silly, don't you know girls always say that sort of thing to draw
+the men on? I told her she ought to bring you to the point to-day.... I
+say ... I can't breathe!"
+
+He was skilfully and rapidly gagged by Osmond, who afterwards picked up
+his prisoner and carried him to a high steep shelf of rock, where he
+laid him down.
+
+"You can cool your heels up there till I come and take you down," he
+said between his teeth. "If you roll over, you'll roll down, and most
+likely break your spine, so I advise you to be quiet, and think of your
+sins."
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXII.
+
+          We walked beside the sea
+    After a day which perished, silently,
+    Of its own glory.
+          Nor moon nor stars were out:
+    They did not dare to tread so soon about,
+    Though trembling in the footsteps of the sun;
+    The light was neither night's nor day's, but one
+    Which, lifelike, had a beauty in its doubt.
+
+    E. B. BROWNING.
+
+
+On turning his flushed and excited face again towards the seat where he
+had left Elsa, he found that she was gone. It did not surprise him, but
+made him resolve instantly to follow and console her. He wandered about
+for some time amongst the sunny windings of the cliffs before he found
+the object of his search.
+
+She was crouched down on the grass, her face hidden, her whole frame
+shaken with sobs. It brought the tears to his own eyes to witness such
+distress, yet his feeling towards Godfrey was not all anathema. Only
+exceptional circumstances could have enabled him to assume the post of
+comforter, and those circumstances had been brought about by the
+impudent boy.
+
+"Miss Brabourne," he said, gently, looking down at her.
+
+She started, and checked her grief.
+
+"Forgive my intruding," he went on, seating himself on a ledge of cliff
+just above her, "but I have said too much already not to say more. You
+must feel with me, our interview can't be broken off at this point; you
+must hear me out now, and, if I have shattered all my hopes by my
+reckless haste, why, I shall only have myself to thank for it."
+
+She but half heard, and hardly understood him; her whole mind was at
+work on one point.
+
+"What must you think of me?" she cried. "Did you believe it?--what he
+said of me?"
+
+"Believe it! Believe what?" cried Osmond. "Don't allude to it, please,
+please don't. It makes me lose my temper and feel inclined to rave. I
+heard little that was said; what I did hear could inspire me only with
+one sensation--anger at his impudence, sympathy for you."
+
+"Then you don't--believe--you don't think that I was--trying to make you
+flirt with me?"
+
+It was out at last, and, having managed to pronounce the words, she
+buried her face in her hands.
+
+"Oh, Elsa!" was all that her lover could say; but the tone of it made
+her lift her humbled head and seek his eyes. Whatever his look, she
+could not meet it; her own sank again, she blushed pitifully, quivered,
+hesitated, finally let him take her hand.
+
+Consciousness was fully awake now. The girl, whose fingers thrilled in
+his own, was a different being from the Elaine who had watched him
+sketching in the lane. She knew that she was a woman, knew also that she
+was beloved. Years of education would never have taught her so
+completely as she was now taught by her lover's eyes.
+
+He began to speak. She listened, in a trance of delight. He begged her
+to forgive his weakness in failing to control his feelings for her. Poor
+fellow, he was lowly enough to satisfy an empress. He knew that he had
+no right to speak of love to this girl who had seen no men, had no
+experience of life. He felt that he had taken an unfair advantage of her
+ignorance, and the thought tortured his pride. He would not ask her if
+she returned his love, still less demand of her any promise; he should
+go to Edge Willoughby that very night, he said, and apologise to her
+aunts for his unguarded behavior. He loved her dearly, devotedly. In a
+year's time he would come and tell her so again. But not yet. He was
+poor, and he could not brook that anyone should think he wanted a rich
+wife, though, as has been said, his knowledge of Elaine's prospects was
+by no means so minute as Claud Cranmer's. All his passion, all his
+regret, were faltered forth; and the result was, to his utter
+astonishment, a burst of indignation from his lady-love.
+
+He did not believe her--could not trust her! Oh, she had thought that
+he, at least, understood her, but she was wrong, of course! He, like
+everyone else, thought her a foolish child, incapable of judging, or
+knowing her own mind.
+
+"Do you think that I have no feeling?" she asked, pitifully. "Do you
+think that I can bear to have you leave me next week, and go back to
+London and never be able to so much as hear from you, to know what you
+are doing, or if you still think of me? How can you love such a creature
+as you think me--foolish, ignorant, inconstant----"
+
+Could it be Elsa who spoke? Elsa, whose lovely face glowed with
+expression and feeling? Her development had indeed been rapid. Lost in
+wonder and admiration, he could not answer her, but remained mutely
+looking at her, till, with a little cry of angry shame, she bounded up
+and ran away from him.
+
+Leaping to his feet, he followed and captured her. Hardly knowing what
+he did, he took her in his arms. Her lovely cheek rested against his
+dark blue flannel coat, she was content to have it so, for the moment
+she believed that she loved him.
+
+The great red sun had rolled into the sea, when the two came up to the
+camping place again. Tea was half over, and they were greeted with a
+derisive chorus. Wyn, however, looked apprehensively at her brother's
+illuminated expression and gleaming eye, and Claud, noting the same
+danger-signals, looked at her, and their eyes met.
+
+"Where is Godfrey?" asked Mr. Fowler.
+
+"Jove, I forgot! I must go and fetch him," cried Osmond, laughing, as he
+ran off.
+
+"Mr. Allonby put him in punishment for behaving so badly," explained
+Elsa, with burning blushes.
+
+"What had he done?" asked Dr. Forbes, with interest.
+
+"He was very rude to Mr. Allonby," she faltered.
+
+"I'm grateful indeed to Allonby for keeping him in order," laughed her
+godfather.
+
+Godfrey appeared in a very cowed state, silent and sulky. His durance
+had been longer and more disagreeable than he had bargained for. He was
+quite determined to be ill if he could, and so wreak vengeance on his
+gaoler; and his evil expression boded ill to poor Elsa, as he passed her
+with a muttered, "You only wait, my lady, that's all!"
+
+The twilight fell so rapidly that tea was obliged to be quickly cleared
+away. It was not so hilarious a meal as dinner had been, for Osmond and
+Elsa were quite silent, and Wyn too absorbed in thinking of them to be
+lively.
+
+They all went down to the shore to wash up the tea-things, and lingered
+there a little, watching the tender violets and crimsons of the west,
+and listening to the soft murmur of the lucid little wavelets which
+hardly broke upon the sand.
+
+Wyn leaned her chin upon her hand--her favorite attitude--and watched.
+Jacqueline and young Haldane were busily washing and wiping the same
+plate, an arrangement which seemed to provoke much lively discussion.
+Claud was drying the knives and forks which Hilda handed to him. Osmond
+and Elsa stood apart, doing nothing but look at one another. Wyn hated
+herself for the choking feeling of sadness which possessed her. Osmond
+had been so much to her; now, how would it be? Such jealousy was
+miserable, contemptible, she knew; but the pain of it would not be
+stilled at once.
+
+Henry Fowler appeared, took the knives and forks, and carried them off,
+followed by Hilda. Claud turned, and looked at Wyn.
+
+"What a night," he said.
+
+"Yes."
+
+"Is that all the answer I am to expect?"
+
+"What more can I say? Do you want me to contradict you?"
+
+He was silent, his eyes fixed on the pure reach of sky.
+
+"I wonder why I always feel sad just after sunset?" he remarked, after a
+pause.
+
+"Do you?" said Wyn, quickly.
+
+"Yes; do you?"
+
+"To-night I do."
+
+"I thought so."
+
+"Our holidays are nearly over," said the girl, with a sigh. "I must go
+back to work again. I must utilize my material," she added, a little
+bitterly. "All the splendor of these sunsets must go into the pages of a
+novel, if I can reproduce it."
+
+"It would go better into a poem," said Claud, tossing a pebble into the
+water.
+
+"That is one fault I may venture to say I am without," remarked
+Wynifred. "I never write verses."
+
+"I do; it amounts to a positive vice with me," returned he, coolly.
+
+"I am sure I beg your pardon," she said, confused.
+
+"You need not. It is only a vent. Everyone must have a vent of some
+sort, otherwise the contents of their mind turn sour. Yours is fiction;
+you don't need the puny consolation of verse, which is my only outlet."
+
+"You are very sarcastic."
+
+"So were you."
+
+"If you always take your tone from me----" she began, and stopped.
+
+"I should have my tongue under better control, you were about to add,"
+he suggested.
+
+"Nothing of the sort. I forget what I meant. I am not in a mood for
+rational conversation this evening."
+
+"Nor I. Let us talk nonsense."
+
+"No, thank you. I can't do that well enough to be interesting. Go and
+talk to Mr. Haldane; he studies nonsense as a fine art."
+
+"I accept my dismissal; thank you for giving it so unequivocally," he
+answered, huffily, and, turning on his heel, marched away, and spoke to
+her no more that evening.
+
+Later, when the darkness had fallen, and the company were dispersed to
+their various homes, Henry Fowler, coming from the stable through the
+garden, was arrested by the scent of his guest's cigar, and joined him
+on the rustic seat under the trees.
+
+It was a perfect summer night, moonless, but the whole purple vault of
+heaven powdered with stars.
+
+The garden of Lower House was, of course, like all the land in Edge
+Valley, inclined at an angle of considerably more than forty-five
+degrees, which fact added greatly to its picturesqueness. Right through
+it flowed a brook which dashed over rough stones in a miniature cascade,
+and added its low murmuring rush to the influence of the hour.
+
+Claud sat idly and at ease, smoking a final cigar. It was almost
+midnight, but on such a night it seemed impossible to go to bed.
+
+"What are you thinking of?" asked Henry, as he sat down and struck a
+light.
+
+The match flickered over the young man's moody face; such an expression
+was unusual with the cheerful brother of Lady Mabel. He merely shrugged
+his shoulders in answer to the question.
+
+"The Miss Allonbys are certainly charming girls," said Mr. Fowler, after
+a pause. "The eldest, indeed, is most exceptional."
+
+"You are right there," said Claud, suddenly, as though the remark
+unloosed his tongue. "I don't profess to understand such a nature, I
+must say."
+
+His host looked inquiringly at him, surprised at the irritation of his
+tones.
+
+"If I were a different fellow, I declare to you I'd make her fall in
+love with me," said the young man, vindictively, "if only for the
+pleasure of seeing her become human."
+
+"And why don't you try it, being as you are?" asked Mr. Fowler,
+composedly, after a brief interval of astonishment. "Why this uncalled
+for modesty? Is it on account of your one defect, or because you have
+only one?"
+
+Claud laughed, and flushed a little under cover of the friendly gloom.
+
+"Miss Allonby is too near perfection to care for it in others," he said,
+with a suspicion of a sneer.
+
+"Indeed? Do you think so? She seems full of faults to me."
+
+His companion turned his head sharply towards him.
+
+"Perhaps I hardly meant faults. I should say--amiable weakness. I only
+meant to express that to me she seems 'a being not too bright and good
+for human nature's daily food.' I am such a recluse, Mr. Cranmer, I must
+of necessity study my Wordsworth."
+
+Claud was silent for a long time, and only the harmonious rushing of the
+brook broke the hush.
+
+"Is that the idea she gives you?" he asked, at length. "Shall I tell you
+what I think of her? That she is incapable of passion, and so unfit for
+her century."
+
+"Incapable of passion," said the elder man, slowly, "and so safe from
+the knowledge of infinite pain. For her sake I almost wish it were so.
+Have you read her books?"
+
+"Yes."
+
+"Don't you think the passion in them rings true?"
+
+"True enough; she has wasted it there. There is her real world. I--we--"
+he corrected himself very hastily--"are only shadows."
+
+"I think that remark of yours is truer than you know," said Mr. Fowler.
+"I am sure that Miss Allonby lives in a dream----"
+
+"But you think she could be awakened?"
+
+"If you could fuse her ideal with the real. I read a poem in the volume
+of Browning you lent me the other day. It told of a man who set himself
+to imagine the form of the woman he loved standing before him in the
+room. He summoned to his mind's eyes every detail of her personal
+appearance,--her dress, her expression,--till the power of his will
+brought the real woman to stand where the fancied shape had been. It is
+not altogether a pleasant poem, but it reminded me of her, in a way. She
+is standing, I conjecture, with her eyes and her heart fixed on an
+ideal. If a real man could take its place, he would know what the
+character of Wynifred Allonby really is. No other mortal ever will."
+
+Claud smoked on for a minute or two in silence; then, taking his cigar
+from his mouth, he broke off the ash carefully against the sole of his
+boot.
+
+"Your estimate of her is practically worthless," he remarked, "because
+you are supposing her to be consistent, which you know is an
+impossibility. No woman is consistent; if they were, not one in a
+hundred would ever marry at all. Who do you suppose ever married her
+ideal?"
+
+"You are right, then," said his companion, thoughtfully. "The
+adaptability of woman is marvellous. Mercifully for us. But I have a
+fancy that the lady in question is an exception to most rules. One is so
+apt to argue from something taken for granted, and therefore most likely
+incorrect. We start here from the assumption that a girl's ideal is an
+ideal of perfection--a thing that never could be realized; and I should
+imagine that to be true in the majority of instances. But it's my idea
+that Miss Allonby has too much insight to build herself such a
+sand-castle. The hero of her novel is just a moderately intelligent man
+of the present day, with his faults fearlessly catalogued--he is no
+sentimental abstraction. And yet I am sure that he is not a man she has
+met, but a man she hopes to meet. That is to say, I am sure she had not
+met him when she wrote the book, but I see no reason why she should not
+come across him some day."
+
+Claud made a restless movement. He tossed away the end of the cigar,
+threw himself back on the garden-seat, and locked his hands behind his
+head.
+
+"The modern girl," he observed, "is complicated."
+
+"Perhaps that is what makes her so interesting," said Mr. Fowler.
+
+"Is she interesting--to you?"
+
+"She is most interesting--to me," was the ready rejoinder.
+
+There was no answer. In the dim starlight the elder man studied the face
+of the younger. He thought Claud Cranmer was better-looking than he had
+previously considered him. There was something sweet in the expression
+of his mouth, something lovable in the questioning gaze of his blue-grey
+eyes.
+
+The silence was broken by the fretful barking of Spot, Claud's
+fox-terrier. He roused himself from his reverie.
+
+"What's up with that little beggar now, I wonder?" he said, as he rose,
+half-absently, and sauntered over the bridge.
+
+"Spot! Spot! Come here! Stop that row, can't you?"
+
+He vanished gradually among the shadows, and Henry Fowler was left
+alone.
+
+"Is he in love with her, or is he not?" he dreamily asked himself. "Talk
+of the complications of the modern girl--there's no getting to the
+bottom of the modern young man. I don't believe he knows himself."
+
+He caught his breath with something like a sigh of regret for an
+irreclaimable past.
+
+"I almost wish I were young again, with a heart and a future to lay at
+her feet!"
+
+It was the nearest he had ever come to a treason against the memory of
+Alice Willoughby. Love in his early days had seemed such a different
+thing--meaning just the protecting, reverential fondness of what was in
+every sense strong for what was in every sense weak. Now it went so far
+deeper--it included so many emotions, some of them almost conflicting.
+Physically--in strength, size, and experience--Wynifred was his
+inferior. Intellectually, though she had read more books than he, he
+felt that they were equals. But there was a fine inner fibre--a
+something to which he could not give a name--an insight, a delicacy of
+hers which soared far above him. Something which was more than sex,
+which no intimacy could remove or weaken--a power of spirit, a loftiness
+which was new in his experience of women.
+
+The men of his day had taken it for granted that woman, however
+charming, was _small_; they had smiled indulgently at pretty airs and
+graces, at miniature spites. They had thought it only natural that these
+captivating creatures should pout and fret if disappointed of a new
+gown, should shriek at a spider, go into hysterics if thwarted, and deny
+the beauty of their good-looking female friends. Such a being as this
+naturally called forth a different species of homage from that demanded
+by a Wynifred Allonby, to whom everything mean, or cramped, or trivial
+was as foreign as it was to Henry Fowler himself. It was not that she
+resisted the impulse to be small; it was not in her nature; she could no
+more be spiteful than a horse could scratch; she had been framed
+otherwise.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXIII.
+
+    And I said--Is this the sky, all grey and silver-suited?
+    And I said--Is this the sea, that lies so pale and wan?
+    I have dreamed, as I remember--give me time, I was reputed
+    Once to have a steady courage--now, I fear, 'tis gone!
+
+    _Requiescat in Pace._
+
+
+Claud sat somewhat despondently at Mr. Fowler's side in the tall
+dog-cart as they spun along the lanes from Stanton back to Lower House.
+Their errand had been to convey some of the Allonbys' luggage to the
+station, and see the family off to London.
+
+They were gone; and the two gentlemen who had just seen the last of them
+were both silent, for different reasons: Claud, because he was resenting
+the indifference of Wynifred's manner, and Henry, because he was
+secretly angry with Claud. He did not understand so much beating about
+the bush. Naturally Mr. Cranmer could not afford to marry an entirely
+portionless wife; very well, then he ought to have packed his
+portmanteau and taken his departure long ago, instead of following Miss
+Allonby hither and thither, engaging her in conversation whenever he
+could secure her attention, and generally behaving as though seriously
+attracted--risking the girl's happiness, Mr. Fowler called it. To be
+sure the conversations seemed usually to end in a wrangle; there was
+nothing tender in them. Wynifred's serenity of aspect was unruffled when
+Claud approached, and she never appeared to regret him when he departed
+in dudgeon. A secret wonder as to whether she could have refused him
+suggested itself, but was rejected as unlikely. Still the master of
+Lower House was not accustomed to see young people on such odd terms
+together; and it vexed him.
+
+The last fortnight of the young artist's stay at Edge had been full of
+excitement; for Osmond had made full confession to the Misses Willoughby
+of his love and his imprudent declaration. The good ladies passed
+through more violent phases of feeling than had been theirs for years.
+Astonishment, fright, excitement, a vague triumph in the subjugation of
+the tall, handsome young man had struggled for the mastery in their
+hearts. Finally they had called in Mr. Fowler to arbitrate.
+
+He came to the conclusion which Osmond felt certain that he would,
+namely: that Elsa could not yet know her own mind. She must be left for
+a year, at least, to gain some knowledge of society; he would not hear
+of her binding herself by any promise.
+
+As to young Allonby, he had personally no objection in the world to him.
+He both liked and respected him, though unable to help feeling sorry
+that he had so prematurely disclosed his love to the girl. He would
+gladly see him engaged to her as soon as ever he could show that it was
+in his power to maintain her in the position to which she was born.
+But, on descending to practical details, it seemed to poor Osmond that
+it might be years before he could claim to be the possessor even of a
+clear five hundred a-year, unencumbered by sisters. Wynifred sympathized
+with him so deeply as to make her preoccupied during all her last days
+at Edge. Claud Cranmer's vagaries could not be so important as her
+darling brother's happiness. Though the engagement was not allowed, yet
+the attitude of the Misses Willoughby was anything but hostile. Osmond
+was a favorite with all, and Miss Ellen was privately determined that
+if, when Elsa was twenty-one, want of money should be the only barrier
+to their happiness, she should consent to the marriage, and make them a
+yearly allowance, with the understanding that all came to them at the
+death of the sisters. But first it was only just that Osmond should be
+for a time on probation, that they might see of what stuff he was made;
+and communication could be kept up by means of a correspondence between
+Elsa and Jacqueline, who had struck up something of a friendship, as
+girls will.
+
+It was now finally settled that Elsa should go to London in November,
+spend a month or two with Lady Mabel, and then a short time with the
+Ortons. In London she would naturally meet the Allonbys, and this
+delightful consideration went far to dry the passionate tears she shed
+on the departure of her lover.
+
+During the fortnight which had elapsed since the picnic, there had been
+an ominous calm on the part of Godfrey. His two or three hours'
+detention on the cliffs had given him a wholesome awe of Osmond, and
+each day afterwards he had been so meek that everyone was beginning to
+hope that he was not so black as he was painted.
+
+Osmond, to show he bore no malice, had taken pains to have the boy
+included in all their expeditions; so that he remarked one day to Elsa:
+
+"Allonby's not half a bad fellow, and I'm hanged if I ever lift a finger
+to help him to marry a wretched little sneak like you. If you'd been
+anything like decently behaved to me, I'd have settled some of my
+fortune on you, but now I'd sooner give him ten thousand down to let you
+alone. I should like him to know what sort you are; but the jolliest
+fellows are fools when they're in love."
+
+"What money have you got that I haven't, I should like to know?" Elsa
+had retorted, unwisely. "I am the eldest--I ought to have the most."
+
+"Jupiter! D'you mean to say the old girls have never told you that our
+papa left me all the cash? Quite the right thing, too. What's a girl to
+do with money? Only brings a set of crawling fortune-hunters round her.
+But, if you'd been anything like, I'd have settled something handsome on
+you when I come of age; as it is, you won't get one penny out of me."
+
+"I don't believe a word you say!"
+
+"All right; but you'd better be careful how you cheek me. I'm going to
+pay you out for all the lies you told Allonby about me. I haven't
+forgotten. You just keep your weather-eye open, my lady. You'll get
+something you won't fancy, I can tell you."
+
+From this menace, Elsa went straight to her Aunt Ellen, to ask if it was
+true that all her father's fortune was left to Godfrey. In great concern
+at her having been told, Miss Ellen was obliged to own that it was so,
+though she still concealed the fact that flagrant injustice had been
+done, the money so bequeathed having all come to Colonel Brabourne
+through his first wife. This part of the story, however, was gleefully
+supplied by Godfrey, who had been lying in ambush outside the door to
+jeer at her as she came out.
+
+"Well, ain't it true? Eh? I don't tell so many crackers as you, you see.
+And the joke of it is that all the money came from your mother, and now
+my mother's son has got it. My! weren't the old aunts in a state, too?
+You should hear my Uncle Fred on the subject! But if your mother was
+like these old cats I'm sure my papa must have been jolly glad to be
+quit of her!"
+
+Elsa darted at him with a cry of rage, but he saved himself by flight.
+If anything had been wanting to fill the cup of her hatred to the brim,
+here it was. Had it not been for this child, she would have been
+rich--very rich. She would have been able to marry Osmond, to have a
+large fine house in London, to have her gowns cut like Lady Mabel's, and
+to possess necklaces, lace, jewels, and all things beautiful in
+profusion.
+
+He had stolen her fortune, insulted her mother, humiliated herself. The
+violence of her wrath and rancour were beyond all limits, and she had
+never been taught self control. She loathed Godfrey; the very sight of
+him choked her; she could scarcely swallow food when he was at the
+table; yet she had no thought of appealing to her aunts. She had never
+received sympathy in all her life--why should she expect it now?
+
+Such was the state of things at Edge Willoughby. The stagnant days of
+yore, when existence merely flowed quietly on from hour to hour, were no
+more. The spell was broken, the prince had kissed and wakened the
+sleeping beauty--human passion had rushed in upon the passionless calm,
+the tide of life from the outer world was flowing, flowing in the fresh
+breeze.
+
+Partly on all these changes was Mr. Cranmer meditating as they drove
+back to Lower House in the dulness of an autumn afternoon.
+
+The weather was threatening, the sea of that strange, thick, lurid
+tinge, which suggests a disturbance somewhere under the surface. The
+gulls skimmed low, with strange cries, over the sluggish heaving water.
+He thought of the hot bright day of the picnic, when the young gulls
+were not yet flown, and when their wild laughter echoed along the
+nest-riddled cliff walls.
+
+A melancholy feeling was upon him, that the year was broken and gone,
+that there would be no more fair weather, no more violet and amber and
+crimson in the west.
+
+To-morrow he was to leave the valley and go north to shoot over a
+friend's moor in Scotland. It was the best thing he could do, he told
+himself. There would be plenty of society, such different society from
+that he had known of late. There would be women of his set, women who
+spoke the social shibboleths he knew. There would be bleak moorland and
+dark grey rock, which would not seem so horribly at variance with cold
+weather as did this Valley of Avilion; for the whole party, taking their
+cue from Osmond, had been wont to speak of Edge always as Avilion.
+
+At Ardnacruan he felt certain that he would regain his normal serenity,
+his cheerful from-day-to-day enjoyment of life; but this afternoon all
+influences seemed combined to make him experience that nameless feeling
+of misery and loss which the Germans call _katzenjammer_. The first
+verse of "James Lee's Wife" was saying itself over and over in his
+head, and he could not forget it. The mare's feet, in their even trot,
+kept time to it, the rolling of the wheels formed a sad, monotonous
+accompaniment.
+
+    "Ah, love, but a day,
+    And the world has changed!
+    The sun's away
+    And the bird estranged.
+    The wind has dropped
+    And the sky's deranged,
+    Summer has stopped."
+
+He wished he had had the sense to leave the place a day before instead
+of a day after the Allonbys. He knew that he had been due at Ardnacruan
+on Tuesday, and to-day was Thursday. Why on earth had he been so
+idiotic, so weak, so altogether contemptible?
+
+Well, it was over now, and he meant for the future to possess his soul,
+untroubled by any distressing emotions; and, meanwhile, the thoughts of
+Wynifred, as she sat in the train, steaming towards London, were almost
+exactly a reproduction of his own.
+
+Every turn of the lanes through which they drove brought back to Claud a
+memory of something which had taken place during the past summer. Here
+was a view they had admired together--here the quaint old gateway,
+half-way down the hill which Wynifred had sketched, the lane sloping so
+abruptly that the back legs of her camp-stool had to be artificially
+supported. In that field Hilda and Jac had laid out tea, and the whole
+party had enjoyed a warm discussion on the subject of family
+shibboleths. It began by Hilda's remarking that poor old Osmond could
+hardly be looked upon as a war-horse any longer; and, on being pressed
+to unravel this dark saying, she had explained with some confusion, that
+_war-horse_ had been Jac's translation of _hors de combat_ at a very
+early age, and that they had always used it since, which led on to
+various other specimens from nursery dictionaries, and much amusing
+nonsense. It was all past now.
+
+In Claud's mind was a bitter thought which has countless times occurred
+to most of us, that the past is absolutely irreclaimable. We can never
+have our good minute again; it is gone. He knew the mood would pass, but
+that did not lessen the suffering while it lasted. Would he ever regret
+the days that were gone, with a regret that should be lifelong--was it
+possible that an hour might dawn in the far future when he should be
+prepared to give all to have that time again, that he might yield to the
+impulses of his heart, and speak as he felt?
+
+    "It will come, I suspect, at the end of life,
+    When you sit alone and review the past."
+
+What nonsense!
+
+As the dog-cart shot in through the gates of Lower House, he shook
+himself, and roused from his morbid reverie.
+
+"How conversational we have both been!" he said, with a laugh.
+
+"Yes," said Henry, gazing round with a sad expression in his kind eyes.
+"We miss those merry girls."
+
+"They seem to enjoy life," observed Claud.
+
+"Yes, indeed; and what makes it so fascinating is the assurance one
+always has of there being a solid foundation under all that fun. Many
+girls with twice their social advantages have not one half their fresh
+enjoyment."
+
+"I believe you are right," was the answer, with a sigh which did not
+escape the other.
+
+"We must not moralise," said the master of Lower House, briskly. "The
+day is dull, but don't let us follow its example. Would you care to walk
+to Edge Willoughby, take tea, and make your adieux?"
+
+"Thanks--yes--I think I should. They have been most hospitable."
+
+"Take a mackintosh," said Mr. Fowler, who had been surveying the
+threatening horizon; "we are going to have a bad night, I believe."
+
+As he spoke, a ray of sunset light, darting through a rift in the watery
+sky, fell on a gleaming white sail some distance out at sea. It recalled
+to Claud his walk home to Poole with Wynifred.
+
+"A yacht, a cutter," said his companion, with anxious interest. "She
+will never be able to make Lyme harbor to-night."
+
+They watched the flashing thing for a minute or two in silence; then the
+rainy gleam faded from the sea, and the sail became again invisible.
+
+They set off for Edge Willoughby, a short ten minutes walk.
+
+Each now made an effort to converse, but with poor success. As they
+passed at the foot of a hill, crowned and flanked with arches, there
+was a rustling noise, and out into the path before them lightly sprang
+Elsa.
+
+Claud had never seen her look more beautiful or more strange. Something
+in her expression arrested his eye.
+
+Since her friendship with the Allonby girls, her whole wardrobe had
+become regenerated, and the beautiful proportions of her fine figure
+were no longer obscured by ill-fitting monstrosities. Her dress was dark
+blue, so was her hat, and she had knotted a soft crimson shawl over her
+chest. The buffetting wind had lent a magnificent glow to her skin, her
+eyes were shining--she had altogether an excited look, as though her
+feelings had been strongly worked upon.
+
+"Why, where have you been, Elsa?" asked her godfather, as they greeted
+her.
+
+"Out for a ramble," she answered, evasively.
+
+"And what direction did your rambles take?"
+
+"Oh, I went here and there. Are you coming to see my aunts?"
+
+"We are; we will walk with you as far as the house. Where's Godfrey?"
+
+She looked up at him--an odd, half defiant look.
+
+"At home, I suppose," she said.
+
+They had not gone far when suddenly, violently, down came the rain, and
+Claud hurriedly covering the girl in his mackintosh, they all took to
+their heels, and ran to the friendly shelter of the house.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXIV.
+
+    Walked up and down, and still walked up and down,
+    And I walked after, and one could not hear
+    A word the other said, for wind and sea
+    That raged and beat and thundered in the night.
+
+    _Brothers and a Sermon._
+
+
+The door was flung wide open by Jane Gollop, who had been anxiously on
+the alert.
+
+"Miss Elaine! Well, to be sure! It's a good thing, that it is, as you
+happened to meet Mr. Fowler! Why--you ain't got wet, not hardly a drop,
+more you 'ave. But where's Master Godfrey?"
+
+"I don't know," said Elsa, shortly.
+
+"You don't know," said Jane, in accents of astonishment. "Why, where did
+you leave him?"
+
+"Hasn't he come in?" asked the girl, in a hard kind of way; and, as she
+spoke, loosening her hat, she went to the mirror which hung against the
+wall of the hall, and passed her hand lightly through the soft masses of
+her hair, slightly dampened by the drenching shower. It was such a new
+trait in her--this attention to appearances--that Mr. Fowler gazed at
+her in sheer astonishment. Her beauty as she stood there was simply
+wonderful. Claud, eyeing her with all his might, was at a loss for a
+reason why he was not in love with her. Her style was not a common one
+among English girls--it was too sumptuous, too splendid. Though
+absolutely a blonde, the lashes which shaded her eyes were dark as
+night. Her complexion was a miracle of warmth and creamy fairness; and
+now that the final charm had come--that conscious life had permeated her
+being--the slowness of her movements, the comparative rarity of her
+speech, were charms of a most fascinating description. She was just
+beginning to understand what power was hers. It seemed as if the thought
+expressed itself in the faint smile, the regal grace with which the hand
+was lifted to the golden coronal of hair. She was absolutely exquisite,
+and yet Claud's only thought concerning her was an inward foreboding of
+the mischief she would work in London.
+
+"Did you and Godfrey go out together?" asked Mr. Fowler at length.
+
+The shadow fell over the lovely face again.
+
+"Yes," she answered shortly.
+
+"And where did you part company?" he went on, somewhat anxiously.
+
+"I--I don't know, quite--I forget."
+
+"I expect they've a bin quarrelling again, sir," observed Jane, with
+severity. "I do not know how it is as Miss Elaine can never get on with
+her brother at all. I'm sure I never see nothing to complain so about--a
+bit wild and rude, as most young gentlemen is, but----"
+
+"Godfrey behaves exceedingly ill," said Mr. Fowler, shortly. "Did you
+have a quarrel, Elsa?"
+
+"Yes, we did. I will never go out with him again, as long as I live,"
+said Elsa, quietly.
+
+"And you parted company?"
+
+"Yes. I ran away from him. My aunts have no right to send him out with
+me." Her face worked, and tears sprang to her eyes. "He insults my
+mother," she said, with a sob.
+
+Her god-father's brow grew darker.
+
+"Never mind, Elsa," he said, in a voice of much feeling. "Let us hope he
+will grow better as he grows older; he is but a little chap."
+
+"I wish I need never set eyes on him again, as long as I live," she
+said, in a low voice, audible to him alone.
+
+"Hush, child! But now, the fact remains that the storm is awful, and
+that, as far as I can make out, the boy is out in it. What is to be
+done? Come and let us tell the aunts."
+
+They entered the dining-room, where tea was already spread out in
+tempting guise. The Misses Willoughby turned to greet their guests, and
+Miss Charlotte in some anxiety demanded,
+
+"Where is Godfrey?"
+
+Her perturbation was great when the situation was explained.
+
+"My dear Mr. Fowler! That young child--so delicate too! Out in this
+storm of rain! He will never find his way home, it will be dark
+directly! What shall I do? Penton must be sent after him. Elsa, tell me
+at once where you left him."
+
+The crimson color mounted to Elsa's brow.
+
+"I--I don't exactly remember--I wasn't taking much notice," she
+faltered.
+
+"But which direction did you take? At least you can inform me of that. I
+am sure it is hard to believe that any girl of your age could be so
+foolish; speak!"
+
+"We went along the Quarry Road," said Elsa, slowly, her eyes fixed on
+Claud, who stood looking at the ground.
+
+"And where then?"
+
+"We were going to Hooken for blackberries, but I thought it looked like
+rain, so I turned back."
+
+"And Godfrey did not accompany you?"
+
+A pause.
+
+"No."
+
+"He must have gone on to Brent," said Miss Charlotte, with conviction.
+
+Brent was the tiny fishing-village which lay in a curve of the cliff
+between Edge Valley and Stanton.
+
+"Does Godfrey know his way to Brent?" asked Mr. Fowler of Elsa.
+
+"Oh, yes--he often goes there--to the 'Welcome Traveller,'" she
+answered.
+
+"I think he is most probably there now," said he, turning to Miss
+Charlotte, "and, if so, you may be easy, they will not send him home in
+this tempest."
+
+"But he is very wilful, he may insist on trying to come home, and, if
+so, he will be lost, he could never stand against the wind across the
+top of Hooken," said Miss Charlotte, full of apprehension.
+
+Her attachment to Godfrey was a forcible illustration of the
+capriciousness of love. There had been every reason why she should
+dislike him, she had been fully prepared to do so. She had never seen
+one single trait in him to induce her to alter this preconceived
+opinion; he had openly derided her and set her authority at naught ever
+since their first meeting, yet she was fond of him.
+
+Her looks testified the deepest concern. As the scream of the storm-wind
+dashed against the window of the warm, comfortable room, she shivered.
+
+"Elsa," she cried, "how dared you leave that child out by himself? You
+are not to be trusted in the least! Where did you leave him--answer
+me--was it on the cliffs?"
+
+"No!" cried Elsa, sharply, "it was not. He would not be likely to go by
+the cliffs, it is twice as long, you know it is. He went along the
+Quarry Road, I tell you. He is gone to Brent."
+
+"Make yourself easy, Miss Charlotte," said Mr. Fowler, "he is not likely
+to try the cliff road home in weather like this. He will come by the
+quarries, if they let him come at all. How long had you parted from him
+when we met you, Elsa?"
+
+"Oh, more than an hour, I should think."
+
+"There, you see! He is as safely sheltered as we are by now!"
+
+Miss Charlotte went restlessly to the window.
+
+"I am anxious; he is so delicate, and so rash," she said. "I shall send
+Penton out along the Quarry Road."
+
+"I will walk to Brent and back for you, Miss Willoughby," said Claud, in
+his quiet way.
+
+"My dear fellow," said Henry Fowler, "you will scarcely keep your feet."
+
+"Oh, nonsense about that. I'm all right--I have my mackintosh here. I
+enjoy a good sou'-wester."
+
+"I'll come with you," said Henry at once.
+
+Of course the ladies protested, but the gentlemen were firm; and, having
+first taken something to keep the cold out, they started forth into all
+the excitement of a furious gale on the Devonshire coast.
+
+Once fairly out in it, Claud felt that he would not have missed it for
+worlds. There was such a stimulus in the seething motion of the
+atmosphere, such a weird fascination in the screaming of the blast and
+the hoarse roaring of the distant ocean.
+
+"This is rather a wild-goose chase," yelled Henry in his companion's
+ear.
+
+"Never mind; what's the odds so long as we can set their minds at rest,"
+bawled Claud in return.
+
+"Naught comes to no harm--the young imp is all right enough," howled
+Henry; and then, having strained their vocal chords to the utmost, any
+further attempt at conversation was given up as impossible.
+
+They passed the narrow gorge where the mouth of the quarries lay and
+where the limekilns cast a weird gloom upon the night. The streaming
+rain hissed and fizzed as it fell upon the glowing surface, and,
+altogether, Claud thought, the whole scene was something like the last
+act of the _Walk�re_--he almost felt as if he could hear the passionate
+shiver of Wagnerian violins in the rush of the mighty tempest.
+
+In the low, sheltered road, they could just manage to keep their feet.
+Every now and then they paused, and shouted Godfrey's name at the utmost
+pitch of their voices; but they heard no response; and at last staggered
+down the little stony high street of Brent, without having met a single
+soul.
+
+Usually the narrow street was musical with the murmur of the stream that
+flowed down its midst. To-night the storm-fiend overpowered all such
+gentle sounds. Claud, blindly stumbling in the dark, managed to go over
+his ankles in running water, but quickly regained his footing, and was
+right glad when the lights of the "Welcome, Traveller," streamed out
+upon the gloom.
+
+They swung open the door. The bar was deserted, and Mr. Fowler's call
+only brought a female servant from the kitchen. Every soul in the town,
+she told them, was down at the quay--the word to haul up the boats had
+been cried through the village at dusk, and now the gale had come, and
+the fishing smacks had not come in.
+
+Claud remembered how they had sat on the cliff black berrying only two
+days before, and watched the fishermen start, how the boats with their
+graceful red brown sails had danced and dipped on the sparkling blue
+water, alive with diamond reflections of the broad sun.
+
+And now--the cruel, crawling foam, the black abyss of howling
+destruction, and the frantic wives assembled on the quay, watching "for
+those who will never come back to the town."
+
+The inn servant was positive that Master Brabourne had not been in Brent
+that afternoon or evening, but Mr. Fowler, not quite relying on the
+accuracy of her statement, determined to make his way down to the shore.
+
+The village was congested with excitement, as they approached they could
+dimly descry a dark crowd and tossing lanterns, and could hear the
+terrific thunder of the billows as they burst upon the beach. Then,
+suddenly, as they hurried on, up through the murky night rushed a
+rocket, a streak of vivid light, that struck on the heart like the cry
+of a human voice for help. Another--another--it was clear that some
+frantic feeling agitated the swaying crowd. As Claud dashed forward, he
+uttered a short exclamation.
+
+"The yacht!"
+
+"Good God, yes, it must be!" cried Henry Fowler in horror.
+
+In a moment they were down in the thick of it all, seizing the arm of
+one of the weatherbeaten fellows present, and asking what was amiss?
+
+It was the yacht, as Claud had divined, and, when her exact situation
+had been explained to him, he felt his heart fail at the thought of her
+deadly peril, at the (to him) new sensation of standing within a few
+yards of a band of living human beings hovering over the wide spread
+jaws of death.
+
+Brent lay in a break of the chalk cliffs which was more then
+half-a-mile in width. Through this tunnel the unbroken might of the wind
+rushed with terrific force, sweeping vehemently inland up the flat
+river-valley, and seeming to carry the whole sea in its train. The very
+violence of each wave, as it broke, made the bystanders stagger back a
+few paces; the tide was rolling in with a rapidity which seemed
+miraculous; already it had driven them back almost as far as the
+market-place, and it was not yet high water.
+
+There was but one hope for the strange vessel. Change of tide had been
+known to bring change of wind; therein lay her solitary chance. If, with
+the ebb, the wind shifted its quarter and kept her off shore, the sea
+was not too heavy for her to live in; but if no change took place--if
+the waves continued to roll in for another hour as they were rolling
+now, with that screaming blast lashing them on as though the Eumenides
+were behind them, no change of tide could avail--no ebb could save the
+cutter from being driven on the sunken coast-rocks, and from being
+steadily beaten to pieces.
+
+Was there a chance? Would it happen, this change of wind for which
+everyone was waiting in such an agony of expectation? In breathless
+horror the young man watched, parting, as he did so, with a few
+delusions he had previously cherished respecting the Devonshire climate.
+He had held a vague belief that storm and tempest were the portion only
+of "wild Tintagel on the Cornish coast," and that here, among the warm
+red cliffs, no roaring billows lifted their heads. He had now to hear
+how, once upon a time, the inhabitants of Brent built themselves a
+harbor and a pier, and how in one night the sea tore them up, dashed
+them to pieces, and bore the fragments far inland; and of how the
+Spanish wrecks were hurled so frequently on the coast that the
+fisher-folk intermarried with the refugees, which union resulted in the
+lovely, dark-haired, blue-eyed race whose beauty had so struck Lady
+Mabel Wynch-Fr�re.
+
+Meanwhile, the lifeboat's crew stood with their boat all ready to
+launch, if they could see the smallest hope of making any way in such a
+sea. One old mariner watched the scarcely discernible movements of the
+yacht with a telescope. She was under jib and trysail only, the
+intention of the crew being evidently, if it were possible, to work her
+to windward, and so keep her off shore.
+
+"Them aboard of her knows what to d�," said the old salt, with
+approbation. "They ain't going daown without showing a bit o' fight
+first."
+
+"Why on earth don't they take in all their canvas?" cried the
+inexperienced Claud.
+
+"If they did, they'd come straight in, stem on, and be aground in five
+minutes or less," was the response.
+
+It was difficult, however, to see of what possible use any amount of
+knowledge of navigation could be to the fated craft. Slowly she was
+being borne to her doom by the remorseless gale. She pitched and rolled
+every moment nearer and still nearer to the coast--to the low sunken
+rocks which would grind her to powder, and where no lifeboat could reach
+her.
+
+The women prayed aloud, with sobs and shrieks of sympathy. To Claud it
+was like a chapter in a novel, a scene in a play. He had never before
+seen real people--people in whose midst he stood--go mad with pity and
+terror. He had never before heard women cry out, as these did, straight
+to the Great Father in their need.
+
+"Oh, Lord Christ, save 'em! Have mercy on 'em, poor souls!" screamed an
+old fishwife at his side, bent with age and infirmity.
+
+It seemed as if he could hardly do better than silently echo her prayer:
+
+"God save all poor souls lost in the dark!"
+
+The moments of suspense lengthened. The knot of spectators held their
+breath. It would be high water directly, and the gale was still driving
+in the frantic sea, boiling and eddying. The night was cleft by the
+momentary gleam of another rocket sent up from the yacht. Though
+evidently terribly distressed, she did not seem disabled, and rose from
+crest to crest of the mountainous rollers with a marvellous lightness.
+It was easy to see that she surprised all the old salts who were
+watching her. As she rolled nearer, her proportions were dimly to be
+seen. In the gloom she seemed like a great quivering white bird,
+palpitating and throbbing as if alive and sentient.
+
+"Eh, what a beauty, what a beauty! What a cruel shame if she is lost,"
+gasped one of the men in tones of real anguish.
+
+Then, suddenly, from further along the crowd came a shout faintly heard
+above the storm. Claud could not distinguish the words, but a vague
+sense of atmospheric change came over him. A manifest sensation ran
+through the assembly; and it seemed as if there were a momentary
+cessation of the blinding gusts of spray which had drenched him.
+
+A fresh stillness fell on the crowd, broken only by the sobbing
+whistling of the wind, which faltered, died down, burst forth again, and
+then seemed to go wailing off over the sea.
+
+What had happened? Claud steadied his nerves and looked round
+bewildered. Surely that wave which broke was not so high as the last. It
+seemed at first as though the ocean had become a whirlpool, as though
+conflicting currents were sucking and eddying among the coast-rocks till
+the force of the tide was broken and divided. He turned to look for
+Henry Fowler, but could not see him. Moving further along the wet track
+left by one of the highest billows on the road, still clutching his cap
+with both hands, he found him presently superintending the lifeboat men,
+who were making a start at last.
+
+There was a faint cheer as the boat was launched, and the receding wave
+carried her down, down, with that ghastly sucking noise which sounds as
+though the deep thirsted for its prey. Claud held his breath. He thought
+the next wave would break over her; but no! The crew bent to their oars,
+and up she rose, in full sight of the eager multitude, then again
+disappeared, only to be seen once more on the summit of a further crest.
+And now there was no question but that the wind was shifting. Silence
+fell on the watchers; silence which lasted long. Breathlessly they eyed
+the dim white yacht, which now did not seem to approach nearer the
+coast.
+
+In the long interval, memory returned to Mr. Cranmer, memory of the
+purpose for which he had come there. Where was Godfrey? Nowhere to be
+seen. Making his way up to Mr. Fowler, he remarked:
+
+"Don't you see anything of the boy?"
+
+Henry gave a start of recollection, and cast his eyes vaguely over the
+crowd. A few minutes' search sufficed to show that Godfrey was not
+there. By the light of a friendly lantern he looked at his watch. It was
+past ten o'clock, and the thought of the anxiety at Edge Willoughby
+smote his conscience.
+
+"We must leave this," he said, reluctantly, "and go back over the top of
+the cliff. It does not rain now, and thank God, the wind is falling."
+
+"Will the yacht live?" asked Claud.
+
+"Yes, please God, she'll do now," answered Henry. "But I daresay the
+crew will come ashore; they have all been very near death; perhaps they
+don't know, as well as I do, how near."
+
+"Do you know the way over the cliff?"
+
+"Know it? I think so. I could walk blindfold over most of the land near
+here," returned the other, drily.
+
+"I do wonder what can have become of the child," said Claud, dubiously.
+
+"Little cur!" said the ordinary gentle Henry, viciously. "I am not at
+all sorry if he has a fair good fright; it may read him a lesson."
+
+Unwillingly they turned from the scene of interest, and began their
+scramble up the chalky slopes, rendered as slippery as ice by the heavy
+rains. Neither had dined that night, and both were feeling exhausted
+after the tension of the last few hours. They walked silently forward,
+each filled with vague forbodings respecting Godfrey.
+
+The wind was still what, inland, would be called a gale, too high to
+make conversation possible. Overhead, rifts in the night-black clouds
+were beginning to appear; the waning moon must be by now above the
+horizon, for the jagged edges of the vapors were silver.
+
+Claud was deeply meditating over his night's experience; it seemed years
+since he parted from Wynifred that afternoon. How much had happened
+since!
+
+His foot struck against something as he walked. Being tired, he was
+walking carelessly, and, as the grass was intensely slippery, he came
+down on his hands and knees, making use of a forcible expression.
+
+Thus brought into the near neighborhood of the object which caused his
+fall, he discovered that it was neither a stick nor a stone, but a
+book--a book lying out on the cliff, and reduced to a pulp by the
+torrents of rain which had soaked it.
+
+"I say, Fowler, what's this?" he said eagerly, regaining his feet, the
+whole of the front of his person plastered with a whitish slime. "Here's
+a book! Does that help us--eh?"
+
+Mr. Fowler turned quickly.
+
+"Let me look," he said.
+
+To look was easier than to see, by that light; but, by applying the dark
+lantern which, they carried, they saw it was a book they knew--a copy of
+the "Idylls of the King," which Osmond had given to Elsa, and which was
+hardly ever out of her hands.
+
+"Strange!" ejaculated Henry, "very strange! She said they had not been
+on the cliffs--did she not say so, Cranmer?"
+
+"Undoubtedly."
+
+"She must have left it yesterday."
+
+"We were all at Heriton Castle yesterday."
+
+"Well--some time. Anyhow, it is her book--here is the name blotted and
+blurred, in the title-page. Let us search round here a little," he
+added, his voice betraying a sudden, nameless uneasiness.
+
+The search was fruitless. They called till the rocks re-echoed, but in
+vain. Up and down they walked, in and out among the drenched brambles,
+slipping hither and thither in the chalky mire. At last they gave it up.
+
+"We must go back and tell them we cannot find him," said Henry, wearily.
+
+Standing side by side on the summit of the heights, they paused, and
+gazed, as if by mutual consent, seawards.
+
+A pale silver glow came stealing as they looked across the heaving
+waters. The full dark clouds parted, and through the rift appeared a
+reach of clear dark sky. Wider and wider grew the star-powdered space,
+till at last the waning, misshapen-looking moon emerged, veiled only by
+a passing scud of vapor.
+
+Below them the turbid billows caught the light and glittered; and, among
+them, riding proudly and in safety, was the beautiful yacht, like a
+white swan brooding over the tumultuous sea, which was still running
+high enough to make the noble little vessel roll and pitch considerably
+at her anchor.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXV.
+
+    I? what I answered? As I live
+    I never fancied such a thing
+    As answer possible to give!
+    What says the body, when they spring
+    Some monstrous torture engine's whole
+    Weight on it? No more says the soul.
+
+    _Count Gismond._
+
+
+In the breezy glitter of the sunshiny morning, a crowd stood on the
+curving beach of Edge Valley in a state of perplexity something
+resembling a pack of hounds at fault.
+
+Day had dawned, full of light and motion. Billowy masses of white
+cumulus clouds sailed rapidly over the deep blue sky. The thick turbid
+sea rolled in, casting up mire and dirt from its depths. News had come
+to Brent that the fishing-smacks had found a refuge in Lyme harbour, and
+gay chatter filled the streets, as the happy wives and mothers ran to
+and fro, laughing as they thought on their terrors of the previous
+night.
+
+Joy had come in the morning to all but the inhabitants of Edge
+Willoughby. Godfrey was still missing, and there was no news of him.
+
+Mr. Fowler feared there could be but one solution of the mystery. The
+boy must have dared the cliff-path, and made a false step, or been swept
+off bodily by the gale. The sea, which had spared the yacht, most
+probably had drowned this heir to a great fortune.
+
+The strangest part of the affair was the callousness shown by Elsa. It
+almost seemed as if she were simply relieved by the absence of her
+brother, and careless as to its cause. She had, however, come down to
+the shore with her godfather, and stood, like one half dazed, among the
+villagers, answering with painful hesitation the questions put to her as
+to where she had last seen Godfrey.
+
+The yacht was brought up about half a mile off shore, and an examination
+of her by telescope had proved her to be a very smart and well-found
+vessel--a most perfect specimen of her kind. She was painted quite
+white, with a gold streak running round her, and she was flying a black
+distinguishing flag, upon which appeared a white swan with outspread
+wings, and an ensign which appeared to be foreign. The crew could be
+seen busy about the deck, repairing damages to paint and gear from the
+gale overnight. Just as Henry had dispatched two search-parties, one
+along the cliffs, the other along the shore, it was seen that a gig was
+leaving the yacht's side, and approaching with rapid strokes, pulled by
+two men, and a third steering. Mr. Fowler waited, knowing that most
+probably some injury had been sustained during the gale of the previous
+night, and that he might be able to make an offer of help.
+
+As soon as the keel touched the shingle, the man in the stern-sheets
+stood up, and asked if there were an inn in the village. His English was
+fair, but his accent virulently German. Being answered in the
+affirmative, he next proceeded, somewhat to the astonishment of the
+crowd, to ask if there were a magistrate living near.
+
+"I am a Justice of the Peace," said Mr. Fowler, amid a general
+sensation.
+
+The man touched his cap. His master, Mr. Percivale, would be very glad
+of a few moments' conversation, if the gentleman's leisure served. He
+had a statement to make if the Justice could wait, he would be on shore
+in twenty minutes.
+
+Henry, wondering greatly as to the statement he was to hear, inquired
+how much water the yacht drew, and, on being informed, explained that,
+if Mr. Percivale chose, he could steer her right in, within a few feet
+of the shore, owing to the peculiarly sudden shelve of the bay.
+
+The man touched his cap again, and, having raised the popular feeling to
+fever heat by a scarcely intelligible hint that he believed there was
+murder in the case, pushed off, and rowed back to the yacht as fast as
+he had come.
+
+The crowd on the beach had increased. Most of the villagers had seen the
+boat leave the yacht, and hurried down in great eagerness to know what
+was going forward.
+
+Doubtful as to what course to pursue, Mr. Fowler stood irresolute in
+their midst, Elsa, Miss Emily Willoughby, Miss Charlotte Willoughby, and
+Claud Cranmer at his side.
+
+Suddenly a sound of wheels was heard grinding sharply on the sea-road.
+Involuntarily all heads were turned in this new direction, and it was
+seen that one of the Stanton station-flies had come to a stand-still
+just opposite the assembled people, and that a lady and gentleman were
+hastily alighting.
+
+On hearing that the name of the owner of the yacht was Percivale, Mr.
+Cranmer roused himself from the reverie into which he had fallen. This,
+then, was the Swan, the mysterious yacht of which everyone had been
+talking all the summer, and whose owner was so obstinately
+uncommunicative and unsociable. The idea of meeting the hero of the hour
+brought a certain excitement with it; but these thoughts were put to
+flight by the sudden arrival on the scene of the two new actors. In a
+flash he recognised Frederick Orton, whom he had occasionally seen in
+company with Colonel Wynch-Fr�re at Sandown; and this, of course, was
+his wife. Whence had they sprung? They were believed to be in Homburg;
+and Claud felt a strange sinking of the heart as he realised in what an
+unfortunate moment they appeared.
+
+Ottilie sprang vehemently from the carriage, looking round her with
+flashing eyes. Evidently she was greatly excited. Moving hastily towards
+the group, she suddenly stopped short, asking, in her fine contralto
+voice:
+
+"Is Miss Charlotte Willoughby here?"
+
+With an assenting murmur, the throng divided right and left, and she
+moved on again, till she stood within a few inches of the lady in
+question. Her husband, after a word to the driver, followed her.
+
+"Miss Willoughby, I am Mrs. Frederick Orton," she said, every word of
+her deep utterance distinctly audible to everyone present. "We are just
+arrived from the Continent, and, in consequence of complaints of unkind
+treatment received in letters from our nephew, we travelled straight
+down here. We have been up to the house, seen your eldest sister, and
+been by her informed that the boy is missing since yesterday. Where is
+he?" She raised her magnificent voice slightly, and it seemed to pierce
+through Henry Fowler's brain. "Where is he? What have you done with him?
+Bring him back to me, instantly."
+
+Silence.
+
+The brisk wave broke splashing and foaming along the beach. The white
+fleecy cloud drew off from the sun which it had momentarily obscured.
+
+Miss Charlotte helplessly confronted her antagonist for a moment, and
+then burst into tears. All Edge Valley held its breath. That Miss
+Charlotte Willoughby could weep was a hypothesis too wild ever to have
+been hazarded among them.
+
+Frederick Orton, in his faultless summer travelling attire, a look of
+anxiety on his weak, handsome face, stood scanning the group, bowing
+slightly to Claud, whom he vaguely recognised, and then letting his eye
+wander to Elsa.
+
+There his gaze rivetted itself with a strange fascination. The girl was
+too like her father, Valentine Brabourne, for him to be ignorant of her
+identity; he partly hated her for it. Her beauty, too, took him utterly
+by surprise. He had heard that she was pretty, but for this unique and
+superb fairness he was quite unprepared.
+
+His wife, after waiting a minute, or two repeated her question.
+
+"What have you done with Godfrey?" she cried.
+
+Mr. Fowler stepped forward, raising his hat, and meeting her scornful
+eye steadily.
+
+"Who are you?" the eye seemed to demand. He answered, with his
+accustomed gentleness:
+
+"My name is Fowler, madam, and I am at present engaged in the same
+pursuit as yourself--a search-for Godfrey. The Misses Willoughby will
+have told you how he and his sister went out for a walk together
+yesterday, and missed each other----"
+
+She pounced upon his words.
+
+"His sister! Yes, his sister! Where is she?"
+
+Sweeping half round, she confronted Elsa on the instant. The two pairs
+of eyes met--the scorching dark ones, the radiant grey. In each pair, as
+it rested, on the other, was a menace. It was war to the knife between
+Ottilie Orton and her niece from that moment.
+
+"So that is his sister," faltered Godfrey's aunt at length. "Do you
+know," cried she, suddenly finding voice again--"do you know that you
+are--yes, you are directly responsible for whatever may have happened to
+Godfrey. I know, Elaine Brabourne, more than you imagine."
+
+A moment of horror, cold sickly horror, crept for one dark instant into
+Claud's brain as he saw the ashy pallor which overspread Elsa's lace.
+She seemed to reel where she stood.
+
+"No," she panted, incoherently, "no, it is not true! I never did----"
+
+Her godfather grasped her shoulder with a firm hold.
+
+"Do not attempt to answer Mrs. Orton," he said, in a voice which sounded
+unlike his own. "She is over-tired--excited. Presently she will regret
+her words."
+
+"Insolence!" said Ottilie, flinging a look at him. "Frederick, will you
+hear me spoken to like this?"
+
+"I think it would be--a--wiser to say no more at present," returned her
+husband, hesitatingly. "Had we not better have a little more light
+thrown on the subject first?"
+
+"More light? What more light do you want than that girl's ashy, guilty
+face, and the authority of this letter of Godfrey's?" she rejoined,
+vehemently. "Did he not say----"
+
+"Madam, if you have any accusation to lodge, I must desire you to choose
+a more fitting occasion," said Mr. Fowler, peremptorily. "Here, in the
+presence of these people, in your present state of agitation, you are
+hardly able to speak dispassionately. As no one yet knows of what they
+are accused, your charges are, so far, fired into the air. Mr. Orton,
+what do you wish me to do?"
+
+"Why, find the boy, I suppose. There'll be the devil to pay if he
+doesn't turn up," observed Mr. Orton; adding, as if to waive any
+unpleasant impression his speech might leave: "Why, Jove, there's a
+yacht coming right in shore. Won't she be aground?"
+
+"Nay, she's right enough. The bay's deep enough to float one of more
+than her tonnage," returned Mr. Fowler; and for the moment everyone's
+attention was given to the movements of the _Swan_.
+
+The sun streamed down on her dazzling white decks. Nothing more
+inviting, more exquisite, could be imagined. The curve of her bows was
+the perfection of grace; the polished brass of her binnacle and fittings
+gave back every beam that fell upon them.
+
+Half reclining over the rail aft was a young man with folded arms and
+face intent upon the manoeuvres of his crew. His head was slightly
+raised, and, as the yacht luffed up gently to the breeze, his profile
+was turned to the gazers on shore.
+
+It was precisely such a profile as might be one's ideal of a Sir
+Percivale--half Viking, half saint; not a Greek profile, for it was cut
+sharply inwards below the brow, the nose springing out with a slightly
+aquiline curve. The chin was oval, not square, as far as could be seen,
+but it was partially obscured by a short pointed golden moustache and
+beard, just inclining to red. The shape of the head, indicated strongly
+against the light beyond, showed both grace and power. His pose was full
+of ease and unconsciousness. He seemed hardly aware of the group on the
+beach, but kept his eyes fixed on his men, giving every now and then an
+order in German. At last the chain cable rattled out, and the dainty
+little vessel swung round, head to wind. Her owner roused himself, and
+stood upright, showing a stature of over six feet.
+
+He wore a white flannel shirt and trousers, a short crimson sash being
+knotted round his waist. Very leisurely he put on his white peaked cap,
+then took a dark blue serge yachting coat and slipped his arms into it,
+moving slowly forward meanwhile to the gangway. A wooden contrivance,
+forming a kind of bridge, with a handrail, was pushed out by the crew;
+and one of the longshoremen pressed eagerly forward to make it firm.
+
+Mr. Percivale stepped upon it, and walked, still with that impassive,
+pre-occupied air, forward towards the waiting crowd.
+
+Now it could be seen that his eyes were bright and vivid, of the very
+deepest blue--that blue called the violet, which shows darkly from a
+distance. His hair, with a distinct shade of red in its lustre, was a
+mass of small soft curls, close to the head. His complexion was fair and
+clear, just touched with tan, but naturally pale; his features
+excessively finely cut.
+
+"A man of mark, to know next time you saw," quoted Claud inwardly, as
+the stranger paused.
+
+The dark blue eyes roved over the crowd but for one swift instant. Then,
+suddenly, they met the glance of a pair of passionate grey ones--eyes
+which spoke, which seemed to cry aloud for sympathy--eyes set in such a
+face as the owner of the _Swan_ had never yet looked on. As the two
+glances met, they became rivetted, each on the other. There was a
+pause, which to Elsa seemed to last for hours, but which in reality
+occupied only a few seconds; then Mr. Fowler went forward and asked,
+
+"You are the owner of the _Swan_?"
+
+"Yes; and you, if I rightly understood Bergman, are a Justice of the
+Peace?"
+
+"I am. Fowler is my name."
+
+"I really do not know," said the stranger, his eyes again wandering
+towards Elsa in the background, "whether you are the proper person with
+whom to lodge my information, but perhaps you will kindly arrange all
+that for me. I merely felt that I could not leave the neighborhood
+without telling you what my men found this morning on the cliffs."
+
+The silence, the breathless hush which had fallen on all present was
+almost horrible; the very sea, the noisy breeze seemed subdued for the
+moment. Mr. Fowler's face stiffened.
+
+"We were lying midway between Brent and this place early this morning,"
+went on the stranger who, to judge by his speech, was certainly English,
+"and my crew were examining the cliff with the glasses, when their
+attention was caught by something lying on the grass. It was a dark
+object, and after watching it for some time, one of the men declared
+that it moved. At last they asked my permission to go and examine the
+spot, which I willingly gave. They scaled the cliff----"
+
+"Then what they saw was not at the _foot_ of the cliff?" burst in Claud,
+breathlessly.
+
+"No. It was on the summit. It was the dead body of a boy."
+
+Elsa gave a wild cry and threw up her arms.
+
+Mr. Fowler caught her to him, holding her golden head against his
+breast, stroking down her hair, murmuring to her with parched lips. Mrs.
+Orton never moved; she stood like a pale Nemesis, her eyes fixed on the
+trembling girl; and down from the breezy heights came the wind, singing
+and whistling, making all the poppies dance among the stubble, and the
+bright clouds dash over the vivid sky in racy succession.
+
+"Go home, Elsa darling--let Mr. Cranmer take you home," whispered Henry.
+
+"No! no! I want to hear everything!" she cried, in anguish.
+
+The stranger's eyes dilated with a wonderful pity as he looked at her.
+
+"I am sorry to give her such pain," he said, at length slowly, in his
+gentle voice.
+
+"Go on," said Henry, hoarsely. "Go on--what did your men do?"
+
+"They satisfied themselves that the boy was dead--that he had been dead
+many hours. When they were sure of this, they left the body as they
+found it, thinking perhaps they had better not meddle with it. The cause
+of death was apparently hemorrhage of the lungs, but it had been brought
+on, they guessed, by a violent blow on the back. The body, when they
+found it, was lying in what looked like an attempt by some very
+unskilful hands, to hollow out a hole and cover it with bramble
+branches, as one branch lay under the corpse. The gale had of course
+blown away anything which might have concealed the ghastly secret. About
+thirty feet from the spot was a large stain of blood, partly obliterated
+by rain."
+
+"Murder will out," said Mrs. Orton, slowly, fixing her burning eyes on
+Elsa. Theatrical as her manner was, it scarcely seemed too emphatic at
+this fearful crisis. "Yes! no wonder she cowers! No wonder she is
+transfixed with horror! I say," she went on, raising her voice a
+little--only a little, yet every accent penetrated to the very outskirts
+of the crowd. "I say that Elaine Brabourne is her brother's murderer."
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXVI.
+
+                          Then I knew
+    That I was saved. I never met
+    His face before, but, at first view,
+    I felt quite sure that God had set
+    Himself to Satan: who would spend
+    A minute's mistrust on the end?
+
+    _Count Gismond._
+
+
+"It is an infamous falsehood!"
+
+Every one turned in the direction of the speaker. Elsa, who had sunk on
+the ground, clinging to Henry Fowler's knees, made a sudden movement,
+and held out her hands.
+
+It is very seldom, in our prosaic century, that a man first meets a
+woman in such circumstances--first sees her with all the restraints of
+conventionality stripped clean away--with helpless, appealing anguish
+written in her eyes.
+
+To Percivale it seemed as if the whole scene dated back for about six
+centuries, as though he were a knight-errant, one of Arthur's knights,
+coming suddenly upon a distressed maiden, who claimed his help as her
+divine right. A long dreadful moment had elapsed between Mrs. Orton's
+accusation and his reply, a moment which he had expected would have been
+seized either by Mr. Fowler or the young man who stood by.
+
+But no. Both were silent, for the same fatal reason. They both thought
+it possible, knowing what provocation had been Elsa's, that, in a moment
+of passion, she had struck blindly. But the sound of the stranger's
+frank, fearless tones seemed, for no reason at all, to make Henry feel
+ashamed of himself. He stooped to Elsa and lifted her to her feet.
+
+"Take courage, my child, tell the truth," he said, tenderly.
+
+Mrs. Orton and Mr. Percivale stood facing each other.
+
+"May I ask by what right you are meddling in this affair, sir?" asked
+Ottilie, with studied insolence. "What do you know of the matter? How
+can you possibly presume to give an opinion? If I might venture to make
+a suggestion to so grand a gentleman, it would be that you return to
+your vessel, and continue that cruise which you so charitably
+interrupted to bring us this awful intelligence."
+
+Percivale never moved his large, calm eyes from her face; but, slowly
+removing his cap from his bright head, made her a graceful bow.
+
+"With all possible aversion to disobeying a lady's commands, madam, I
+must decline to take your thoughtful suggestion," he said, courteously.
+"I have just told you, in hasty words which were the result of a
+moment's indignation, that I believe the statement you just now made to
+be false. Whilst apologising for the manner in which I expressed myself,
+I beg to say that I meant every word I said; and you will thus see that
+I have rendered it impossible for me to leave this place, until it is
+proved that I am right and you are wrong."
+
+She laughed insultingly, she was too excited to know exactly what she
+said or did.
+
+"You will have to stay a long time," said she, with a sneer. "Why, look
+at Elaine Brabourne! Look at her cowering there! Doesn't her attitude
+speak for itself? Do you wish to be better acquainted with the
+situation? Will it satisfy you to be told that a fortune of eighty
+thousand pounds comes to this girl on her brother's death, and that it
+is only a week since she was made aware of the fact? And if I say
+further that she wants to marry a beggarly artist, and that only my
+little Godfrey's frail life stood between----"
+
+"Ottilie, Ottilie, hold your tongue, my dear girl," said Frederick,
+nervously. "You are overwrought, you must take some rest, and leave me
+to search out this affair."
+
+"Leave you!" She wrenched herself away scornfully. "Leave _you_ to do
+it? Why, you could be made to say black was white in ten minutes by
+anyone who would discuss the question with you. Well"--to
+Percivale--"are you still mad enough to say that the matter admits of a
+doubt?"
+
+The perfect quiet of his answer was a most complete contrast to her
+violence.
+
+"It is unfortunate," he said, "that the consideration of the same
+circumstances should lead us to diametrically opposite conclusions; but
+so it is. You consider that the young lady's present appearance and
+attitude argues guilt; to me it strongly indicates innocence. This shows
+how necessary it is that I should have proof of the truth of my view,
+which proof I shall immediately take steps to find."
+
+Henry Fowler roused himself; his face seemed to have grown ten years
+older during the last half-hour.
+
+"I am grateful to you, sir," he said to Percivale, with a piteous
+humility. "Elsa, my darling, you must go home at once."
+
+Raising her lovely head from his shoulder, she stood upright, for the
+first time since her accusation. She looked straight at the stranger,
+holding out her hands.
+
+"It is false--every word they said about me," she faltered. "I could
+tell you----" here her voice broke.
+
+Holding his hat in his left hand, he grasped both her small hands in his
+right, and, bending low, kissed them respectfully.
+
+"I want no assurances," he said. "I do not even want you to tell me of
+your innocence. I know it; and all these people, who have heard you
+falsely accused, shall hear justice done if God grant me life and
+strength to do it." He smiled for the first time--a quiet, grave smile
+which irradiated all his face. "I do not even know your name," he said;
+"but I know that you are innocent."
+
+Miss Charlotte, white and subdued, came up and took the girl's hand.
+
+Elsa moved slightly, as if she were dreaming, and then smiled back into
+Percivale's eyes, a smile of perfect trust, as though an angel had
+appeared to champion her.
+
+It was her only leave-taking: she never spoke; but, turning, walked
+through the assembled peasants with a mien as dignified, as consciously
+noble, as that of Marie-Antoinette at her trial.
+
+"They can take our fly--I am going along the cliffs to find my boy,"
+said Mrs. Orton, with a burst of tears.
+
+Her husband and Claud followed the three ladies to the carriage. Henry
+Fowler was left face to face with the stranger.
+
+"God help us," he said, brokenly. "What is to be done?"
+
+"The first thing," said Percivale, quietly, "is to decide whether the
+boy found by my crew is the brother of Miss--Miss----"
+
+"Brabourne,--true. But he is only her half-brother."
+
+"The next thing will be to prove----"
+
+"It is hopeless," cried Henry, helplessly, as they moved away from the
+crowd together. "You don't know, as I do, the weight of evidence against
+her. You do not--pardon me--understand the circumstances."
+
+"No. For my enlightenment I must apply first to you. As the matter seems
+to be a family one, and as I am an utter stranger, I shall consider you
+fully justified if you decline to afford me any help at all. But I must
+warn you that, if I cannot get information from you, I shall apply for
+it elsewhere. It will take longer; but I have pledged my word."
+
+Henry surveyed him with an interest bordering on admiration.
+
+"I shall tell you anything you ask," he said. "Our first meeting has
+been too far beyond the limits of conventionalities for us to be bound
+by any rules. God bless you for your unhesitating defence of my poor
+little girl. I was too crushed--I knew too much to be able to speak
+promptly, as you did; and I terribly fear that when you have heard all I
+can tell you, though you may not waver in your belief in her, you will
+think the case against her looks very grave."
+
+They paused, and turned to watch Mr. and Mrs. Orton, and Claud, who were
+approaching. Mr. Percivale called to one of the crew of the _Swan_ to
+come ashore and lead the way; and after the party had been yet further
+augmented by the Edge Valley policeman, they set forth towards the
+cliffs.
+
+Ottilie hurried on first, sweeping her husband in her train. Claud, Mr.
+Fowler, and Percivale walked more slowly, and as they went, the latter
+was put in full possession of the facts of the case, so far as they
+could be known.
+
+He disagreed entirely with the inference that Elsa's odd conduct of the
+preceding day, and seeming uncertainty as to where she had parted from
+her brother, was a sign of guilt.
+
+"We cannot," he urged, "any of us dwell for a moment on such a
+hypothesis as that it was a murder in cold blood. The next conclusion,
+then, would be, a blow struck in a fit of passion, unintentionally
+causing death. Now, consider probabilities for a moment. In such a case,
+would it not be the only impulse of any girl, terrified by the
+unexpected result of her anger, to rush for help? Miss Brabourne has
+never seen death--she would think of a swoon from loss of blood as the
+worst possible contingency, she would have hurried home, she would have
+told the first wayfarer she met, she would have been so agitated as to
+render concealment impossible. Besides, the poor boy's clothes were
+saturated with blood; how could she have lifted him--how could she have
+scooped any sort of hole without her clothes bearing such evident traces
+of it?"
+
+"The front of her dress was very dirty," said Claud, reluctantly. "You
+know I always notice that sort of thing. No rain had fallen then, so it
+was not mud; but it was chalk, I am certain."
+
+"You have not watched Elsa, Mr. Percivale, as I have done," said Henry,
+sadly. "You are ignorant of her character, and her bringing-up. She has
+never known what sympathy meant. Every trivial offence has been treated
+as a crime. Her childhood was one long atmosphere of punishment. The
+Misses Willoughby are good women, but they have not understood how to
+bring her up--repression, authority, decorum, those are their ideas. If
+ever Elsa laughed, she laughed alone; if she suffered, it was in secret.
+She is reserved by nature, and this training has made her far more so.
+Were she to fall into any grievous trouble, such as this, for instance,"
+pausing a moment, he then added firmly, "I must confess that I think her
+first, second, and third impulse would be to conceal it."
+
+Percivale made no reply.
+
+"Her temper, too--she has never been taught to govern it," went on
+Henry, sadly; "and it is very violent. Add to this the provocation she
+has had----"
+
+"Have you," asked Claud, suddenly, "have you mentioned to anyone the
+book we found on the cliff last night?"
+
+Henry made a gesture of despair.
+
+"I had forgotten that," he said, miserably. "But it is another strong
+piece of evidence."
+
+Claud explained to Percivale.
+
+"Miss Brabourne told us that she had not been on the cliffs yesterday.
+As we walked home, we found a favorite book of hers lying out in the
+rain--a book which only some very unforeseen agitation would induce her
+to part with."
+
+"Of course we could suppress that evidence at the inquest," was the
+immoral suggestion of the Justice of the Peace.
+
+"It will not be necessary," tranquilly replied their companion. "I shall
+know the truth by then."
+
+They were out on the cliffs by this time, and presently became aware, by
+the halting of the sailors in front, that the fatal spot was reached.
+They saw Mrs. Orton cast herself on the ground in the theatrical way
+which seemed habitual to her, and saw her husband's face turn greenish
+white as he averted it from the little corpse over which she bent so
+vehemently. Walking forward, they too stood beside the dead boy.
+
+Every feeling of animosity, of dislike, which Henry Fowler might have
+cherished, melted before the pitiful sight. It was through a mist of
+tears, which came near to falling, that he gazed down on the child's
+white face.
+
+It was quite composed and the eyes half shut. A certain drawn look about
+the mouth, and the added placidity and beauty of death gave to it a
+likeness to Elsa which had not seemed to exist in life. It was somewhat
+horrible to contemplate. In her moments of dumb obstinacy Henry had seen
+her look so.
+
+He turned away his face for a moment, looking out over the busy,
+tossing, sunlit sea, where the shadows of the clouds chased each other
+in soft blurs of shadow, with green and russet shoals between.
+
+The fresh quick air swept over the chalk, laden with brine. A warm odor
+of thyme was in its breath, and there lay Godfrey, with stiff limbs and
+still heart, in a silence only broken by his aunt's sobs, and the
+whistling of the wind among the rocks.
+
+"How do you know that death was caused by a blow?" asked Mr. Percivale
+of the sailors, at length.
+
+Bergman explained, in his German accents, that they had made an
+examination of the body to see if it could be identified.
+
+"It is not lying now as we found it, sir. It was bent together--we
+straightened the limbs. In pulling down the shirt to see if there was a
+name marked on it, we discovered a livid bruise."
+
+Mr. Percivale knelt down by the dead boy, and, passing an arm gently
+beneath him, raised the lifeless head till it lay against his shoulder,
+and exposed the bruise in question.
+
+Mrs. Orton, who had been silent till now, uttered an inarticulate cry of
+rage:
+
+"Look there!" she gasped.
+
+"Is anyone here ignorant enough to assert that this scar is the result
+of the blow of a girl's fist?" demanded Percivale, raising his head. "It
+has been done with a stick--a heavy stick. See, it has grazed the skin
+right across; you can follow the direction of it. Does Miss Brabourne
+carry a weapon of that description?"
+
+"She had no stick when we met her in the lane yesterday," said Claud,
+eagerly.
+
+"Idiot! As if she could not throw away a dozen on her way home from
+here," passionately broke in Mrs. Orton.
+
+"Ottilie," said her husband, in a low, warning voice, "take care."
+
+"Take care! Too late to say that now," she cried. "Why didn't I take
+care sooner--care of my poor little boy? Why did I ever send him to
+this den of assassins? But, thank Heaven, we are in England, and shall
+have justice--a life for a life," she concluded, wildly.
+
+"We are willing to make all possible allowances for Mrs. Orton's
+feelings," said Percivale, with great gentleness. "I must agree with her
+that it is much to be regretted that she trusted such a delicate child,
+and one on whose life so much depended, out of her own personal care."
+
+"What do you mean, sir?" cried Ottilie, suddenly.
+
+"What do I mean? Merely what I said, madam," he answered, astonished.
+
+"You are trying to make insinuations," she cried, too excited to think
+of prudence. "What depended on Godfrey's life? Do you suppose I am
+thinking of the paltry few hundreds a year we received for taking care
+of him?"
+
+"Madam," he replied at once, "an hour since you did not scruple openly,
+in the presence of numbers of people, to accuse Miss Brabourne of
+murdering her brother to obtain his fortune; I am therefore not
+surprised that you imagine others may be ready to supply a base motive
+for your grief at his death. Believe me, however, my imagination is not
+so vivid as yours; what you suggest had not occurred to me until you
+mentioned it."
+
+She had no answer to make; she was choking with rage; the stranger was a
+match for her. Her husband stood by, reflecting for the first time on
+the effect which Godfrey's death must have for him. The few hundreds of
+which his wife spoke so contemptuously had nevertheless been
+particularly acceptable to people who habitually lived far beyond their
+income, and were always in want of ready money. But beyond this--had
+Godfrey lived to attain his majority, the whole of his fortune would
+have been practically in his uncle's hands. He could have invested it,
+turned it over, betted with it, speculated with it; and the boy would
+have made a will immensely in his favor. He had never looked forward to
+a long life for the young heir.
+
+Weakly, and viciously inclined, he had always imagined that four or
+five years of indulgence would "finish" him; but that he should live to
+be twenty-one was all-important. Now the whole of that untouched fortune
+was Elsa's, unless this murder could be proved against her. Mr. Orton
+began to divine the more rapid workings of his wife's mind. In the event
+of both children dying unmarried, the money was willed, half to
+Frederick, half to the Misses Willoughby.
+
+Never had Mr. and Mrs. Orton been in more urgent, more terrible need
+than at this moment. The year had been a consistently unlucky one. Their
+Ascot losses had merely been the beginning of sorrows.
+
+The hurried flight from Homburg had really been due, not to poor
+Godfrey's complaints of his dulness, but to an inability to remain
+longer; and they had arrived at Edge with the full intention of
+partaking of the Misses Willoughby's hospitality as long as they could
+manage to endure the slowness of existence at their expense.
+
+And now here was this dire calamity befallen them! Frederick smarted
+under a righteous sense of injury. He thought Fate had a special spite
+against him. What was a man to do if everything would persist in being a
+failure? Every single road towards paying his debts seemed to be
+inexorably closed. This was most certainly his misfortune and not his
+fault; he was perfectly willing to pay, if some one would give him the
+money to do it with; and, as nobody would, it followed that he was most
+deeply to be pitied.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXVII.
+
+    One friend in that path shall be
+    To secure my step from wrong;
+    One to count night day for me,
+    Patient through the watches long,
+    Serving most with none to see.
+
+    _A Serenade at the Villa._
+
+
+Nothing could well look blacker than did the case to Henry Fowler. He
+could see no way out of it. Had the boy been found at the foot of the
+cliffs, a verdict of accidental death could so easily have been
+returned; but here, and with the marks of violence plainly visible on
+the body, the presumption seemed terribly strong.
+
+He stood with head sunk upon his chest, feeling beaten down, degraded,
+stricken. Over and over in his mind did he turn the circumstances to see
+if there would be enough evidence to justify the coroner in committing
+Elaine for trial.
+
+Absolute proof of her guilt would not, he thought, be possible; the
+night had been so wild, the spot so lonely. But the very fact of
+standing to take her trial on such a charge would be more than enough to
+blast the young girl's future. Supposing she had to go through life
+stigmatised as one acquitted of murder merely because the jury did not
+see enough evidence to convict? The thought was literally agony to his
+large, gentle heart. Was this to be the fate of Alice's daughter? He
+stood as one accused in his own eyes of culpable neglect; in some way
+such a culmination should have been avoided--he should have been able to
+watch over Elaine better than he had done.
+
+Claud gently recalled him to the present by asking what was to be done
+with the body.
+
+Rousing himself, he gave directions for it to be carried to Edge
+Willoughby; and then fell afresh into a fit of despair, realising how
+terribly imminent it all was.
+
+"When will the inquest take place?" asked Mr. Percivale, approaching
+him.
+
+"The day after to-morrow--I cannot delay it longer; you have forty-eight
+hours in which to accomplish your purpose," returned Henry, with a
+bitter laugh quite unlike him.
+
+"Forty-eight hours," repeated the stranger, steadily. "One can do a
+great deal in that time."
+
+He remained standing, in the perfect quietness of attitude which seemed
+habitual to him, his eyes fixed on the rude niche, hollowed in the
+ground, where the boy's corpse had lain.
+
+"He was not robbed," he said, after a moment.
+
+"Robbed? No! She was not clever enough for that," cut in Ottilie, with
+her harsh sneer. "Had she possessed wit enough to rifle his pockets and
+fling his watch into a thicket, she would have stood a better chance."
+
+"Miss Brabourne is, perhaps, not so well versed in the science of these
+matters as you seem to be, madam," was the mild answer. "Yet, if she
+possessed cunning enough to conceive the plan of murdering her brother
+for his fortune, it would seem consistent to credit her also with
+cunning enough to do all in her power to avert suspicion; to me, it
+amounts to a moral impossibility that any young lady in her right mind
+should perpetrate such a deed, and then walk quietly home without so
+much as making up a single falsehood to shield herself."
+
+"Murderers, especially inexperienced ones, are never consistent,"
+returned Mrs. Orton, furiously, "as you would know, if you knew anything
+at all of the matter."
+
+"Ottilie, Ottilie, come away, for goodness sake--it is snobbish to get
+up a row," urged her husband, in low tones; and, taking her by the arm,
+he led her unwillingly away from the scene of conflict.
+
+Claud and Percivale were left confronting each other.
+
+"The valley will have a pretty ghastly celebrity attaching to it after
+this," remarked the former, removing his straw hat to pass his
+handkerchief over his hot brow. "This is the second mysterious affair
+within one summer."
+
+"The second!" echoed Percivale, keenly, turning his eyes upon him full
+of awakened interest.
+
+"Yes; and with points of similarity too. Each victim had been attacked
+from behind, and beaten with a heavy stick; there was no robbery in
+either case, and Miss Elsa Brabourne in the former case, oddly enough,
+was the person to discover the insensible victim. Whether the incident
+unconsciously influenced her, whether as is the case sometimes,
+according to newspapers, the ease with which one crime had been
+committed suggested another, I cannot of course say----"
+
+"Was the man killed?"
+
+"No; he recovered: but had no idea as to who was his assailant. We had
+down a detective----"
+
+"English detectives are no use at all, or I would telegraph for the
+entire force," replied Percivale. "I believe I shall get to the bottom
+of this matter more surely by myself. I have already formulated a
+theory. You say the criminal was never discovered?"
+
+"No; never even had a clue worth calling a clue."
+
+"Then surely the same idea at once occurs to you as to me, that both
+these murders are the work of one hand."
+
+Claud was silent.
+
+"I had not thought of it," he said at last.
+
+"No; because your mind is full of a preconceived idea; and nothing is
+more fatal to the discovery of the truth. Let me show you what I mean. I
+suppose there is no room at all for the absurd supposition that Miss
+Brabourne was concerned in crime number one?"
+
+"None whatever. She was out walking with her maid, and they found Mr.
+Allonby lying insensible by the roadside. He had been first stunned by a
+blow on the head, then so severely beaten that the bone of one arm was
+broken."
+
+"And not robbed?"
+
+"No; except for a most absurd circumstance--one which mystified us all
+more than anything. He had his dinner with him--he was making a sketch,
+I should tell you; an artist--and this dinner was packed for him by Mrs.
+Clapp, of the Fountain Head, in a pudding-basin, tied round with a blue
+and white handkerchief. After the murder the basin and handkerchief were
+missing, nor could they be found, though careful search was made. The
+detective could offer no solution of this part of the business."
+
+"What solution did he offer of the rest of the transaction?"
+
+"He felt certain it must be the result of some private grudge; the
+attack was such a vicious one--as if the one idea had been to kill--to
+wreak vengeance."
+
+"What time of day was this done?" asked Percivale, who was following
+every word with close interest.
+
+"As near as possible at five o'clock, one evening towards the end of
+June. The time can be fixed pretty conclusively, for when Miss Brabourne
+and her maid passed the place shortly before, he was alive, seated on a
+camp-stool; on their return he was lying in the grass, motionless."
+
+"And was there any inhabitant of the village likely to bear the artist a
+grudge?"
+
+"Impossible! He was an utter stranger."
+
+"Did anyone see a stranger pass through? Let me know the circumstances
+more accurately. Describe the scene of the occurrence."
+
+Claud eagerly complied, supplying Mr. Percivale with every detail, and
+doing it with the intelligent accuracy which was part of his nature. The
+other listened closely, questioning here and there, and finally gave his
+conclusion with calm conviction.
+
+"Every word you utter convinces me that for a stranger of any sort to
+penetrate into the valley, track Mr. Allonby's whereabouts, and vanish
+without leaving a trace, taking with him a pudding-basin as a memento of
+his vengeance, amounts to a moral impossibility. It is absurd. You say,
+too, that Mr. Allonby has no idea himself on the subject--says he has no
+enemies--is as much in the dark as anyone?"
+
+"Yes, and I believe him: he is a thoroughly simple-minded, honest
+fellow."
+
+"Then it stands to reason, in my opinion, that the murderer is an
+inhabitant of Edge Valley."
+
+"But then," cried Claud, "you take away any possibility of a motive!"
+
+"Exactly; and, granting for the sake of argument that Miss Brabourne did
+_not_ murder her brother, what motive have we here?"
+
+Claud was silent.
+
+"The way you argue is this," went on Percivale, "you know of a
+powerfully strong motive for the murder of this poor boy, and you feel
+bound to accept the theory because, if it be not so, you are at a loss
+to account for the thing on any other grounds. You say--there must be a
+very forcible reason to incite to murder. I answer you--here is a crime,
+committed in this very village, not three months back, fresh in
+everyone's memory, alike in many salient points, and, as far as we can
+learn, utterly without purpose. If one mysterious deed can be committed
+in this valley, why not two? Why is the homicide to stop short? If he
+has managed to dispose of a full-grown man on the high-road in broad
+daylight, he will make short work of a delicate little boy, out by
+himself on the cliffs in the twilight."
+
+"But," urged Claud, "you are assuming that these outrages are committed
+simply for the sake of killing--with no motive but slaughter. They must
+then be the work of a maniac, of some one not in his right mind!"
+
+"Exactly. That is the very same conclusion which I have arrived at. Do
+you know of any such in the village?"
+
+"No, I don't. I am certain there is no such person," answered Claud,
+hopelessly.
+
+"He may very likely exist without anyone's suspecting it," rejoined
+Percivale. "You know a man may suffer from one special form of mania and
+be absolutely sane on every other point. If we could leave the discovery
+to time, he must inevitably betray himself, sooner or later; but we have
+to run him to earth in eight-and-forty hours. Let us see if the spots
+selected give us any clue. How far from where we are now standing was
+Mr. Allonby attacked?"
+
+"In quite the opposite direction--nearly four miles from here. Starting
+from Edge Willoughby, you would turn to your right and strike inland to
+get to Poole Farm; you would turn to your left and walk along the shore
+to get here."
+
+"I see. That does not help us much; yet the criminal should have some
+hiding place within convenient distance one would think. Unless it be
+some one so completely beyond the pale of suspicion that his goings and
+comings excited no attention whatever. Is there no village idiot here?
+They indulge in one in most out-of-the-way spots like this?"
+
+"Oh, yes, there is Saul Parker, an epileptic boy; but he is out of the
+question."
+
+"Why out of the question?" asked Percivale, persistently.
+
+"Why, because--because--my good sir, why are _you_ out of the question,
+the thing is just as absurd," answered Claud, almost crossly.
+
+"Is it? I wonder," said Percivale, thoughtfully. "We shall soon see, if
+you can answer a few more of my questions for me. To begin--_I_ am out
+of the question because it can be proved that I was not in Edge Valley
+at the time either crime was committed. Can you say as much for this
+Saul Parker?"
+
+"No, of course he was in the place at the time, but the whole idea is
+absurd. He is gentle, tractable, most beautiful in face, and sat to Miss
+Allonby as a model for a picture Mr. Fowler now has----"
+
+"Where was he at the time Mr. Allonby was attacked?" coolly continued
+his interrogator.
+
+"Where was he? I----" a sudden memory burst upon Claud of Mrs.
+Battishill's kitchen when he first beheld it.
+
+"He was in the kitchen of Poole Farm," he answered, triumphantly, "for I
+saw him there myself. I think that proves the _alibi_ all right."
+
+"Did you see him there before or after the attempted murder?"
+
+"After--naturally."
+
+"Ah!... where does this Saul Parker live?"
+
+"He lives with his mother in a cottage on the Quarry Road. She is the
+widow of a quarry-man."
+
+"It was along the Quarry Road, I think, that Miss Brabourne and her
+brother went to the cliff yesterday? I wish you would kindly take me
+back to the village that way. I should like to see the idiot, foolish as
+you think my theory sounds. Is he very small and puny?"
+
+"Oh, no--a great fellow, taller than I am," admitted Claud, with a
+vague, vague wonder growing in him as to whether, after all, the
+stranger had chanced upon the truth of what had baffled them all this
+summer.
+
+And--the absurdity of the idea!
+
+Even as this sentiment crossed his mind, he could not help owning that,
+though he could reiterate that it was absurd, he could give no
+substantial reasons for his opinion. Everyone would have thought it
+absurd--anyone in Edge Valley to whom the suggestion had been made would
+have passed it by with a contemptuous laugh. The idiot was probably the
+only person in the whole place whose goings and comings were never
+challenged--who wandered in and out as he listed, now in this farm
+kitchen, now in that, kindly tolerated for the sake of his beautiful
+face and his affliction. It was of little use to question him.
+
+"Where have 'ee been, my lad? Haow's yer moother?" or any other like
+civility. A soft smile or a gurgling laugh would be the only response at
+times, or, if mischievously inclined, he might give an answer which was
+not the true one.
+
+Yet, now that Claud began to think over what he knew of the boy....
+
+His intense aversion to strangers was one point in his character which
+rose to immediate remembrance. He recalled Wynifred's story of how she
+had caught him in the act of throwing a stone at Mr. Haldane when his
+back was turned; and Clara Battishill's complaints of his cruelty were
+also fresh in his memory.
+
+But Godfrey he knew to be the special terror of Saul's life, and the
+object of his untold hatred. Godfrey set his bull-dog at the idiot,
+laughed at him, bullied him--one blow from that heavy cudgel which Saul
+habitually dragged after him would be more than enough to avenge his
+wrongs on the frail boy. And yet--and yet----
+
+Somehow, Elsa's guilt seemed painfully obvious. Her embarrassment, her
+confusion of the night before--how were they to be accounted for? Was
+there any other solution possible? Her untruthful equivocation as to
+where she had been--what else could it portend?
+
+This idea about Saul was, after all, too wild and far-fetched. How could
+he have been guilty of the attack on Osmond without the Battishills
+being aware of the fact?
+
+No; the theory was ingenious, but, in his opinion, it would not hold
+water. He said so, aloud, after a long interval of silence.
+
+"I shall at all events see if facts fit in at all with it," said
+Percivale, quietly. "Drowning men catch at straws, you know." Pausing a
+moment he then added, almost reverently:
+
+"If that beautiful woman is arraigned for this crime--if she has ever to
+stand in the dock to answer to the charge of fratricide, or even
+manslaughter, I shall feel all the rest of my life though as if I were
+stained, shamed, degraded from my rightful post of helper to the
+oppressed. I feel as though I could cut through armies single-handed
+sooner than see Frederick Orton's wife triumph over the youth and
+helplessness of Miss Brabourne."
+
+He hesitated over the name, breathing it softly, as a devotee might name
+a patron saint.
+
+"You know something of the Ortons?" asked Claud.
+
+"By reputation--yes," returned Percivale, with the air of one who does
+not intend to say more.
+
+Had he chosen, he could have edified his companion with an account of
+how, last summer, at Oban, Mrs. Orton had determined, by hook or by
+crook, to become acquainted with the mysterious owner of the _Swan_, of
+whom no one knew more than his name, his unsociable habits, and his
+somewhat remarkable appearance; and how she prosecuted this design with
+so much vigor that he was obliged to intimate to her, as unequivocably
+as is possible from a gentleman to a lady, that he declined the honor of
+her acquaintance.
+
+He said nothing of this, however; evidently, whatever his merits or his
+failings, he was a very uncommunicative person.
+
+As if by mutual consent, they moved slowly along together, their faces
+turned back towards Edge Valley. Suddenly it occurred to Claud that he
+was due at Ardnacruan in six hours' time. There was nothing for it but
+to drive into Stanton and telegraph; no consideration should induce him
+to leave the scene of action in the present unforeseen and agitated
+aspect of affairs. He must implore Fowler to keep him a few days
+longer--which request that good fellow would grant, he knew how
+willingly.
+
+As these thoughts crossed his mind, Henry approached them, his kind face
+furrowed and drawn with pain in a manner piteous to behold. Laying a
+hand on Mr. Cranmer's arm, he said, brokenly,
+
+"Claud, my lad, you're not thinking of leaving me to-day?"
+
+A rush of sympathy filled the young man's heart. Never before had Mr.
+Fowler made use of his Christian name.
+
+"No, my dear fellow, of course I shall stay," he said, at once. "If only
+I thought I could be of any comfort to you----"
+
+"You can--you are. But I am selfish--your friends will be expecting
+you----"
+
+"I will drive into Stanton and send a telegram, if I may have the trap.
+Perhaps there might be some business I could do for you?"
+
+"One or two things, lad, if you would. I feel mazed. I can't think
+clearly. Let me see----"
+
+"I'll think for you," said Claud, slipping his arm into his; "and,
+first, I am going to take you straight home to have a glass of wine and
+some food. You are positively faint from exhaustion."
+
+"You must come too," said Mr. Fowler, to Percivale.
+
+"Thanks."
+
+The young man turned slowly round towards them.
+
+During the few foregoing sentences he had been gazing out seawards, with
+folded arms.
+
+"On second thoughts," he said to Claud, "I think that, before making the
+inquiries I speak of, I will see Miss Brabourne--if I can."
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXVIII.
+
+                            She stood on the floor,
+    Fair and still as the moonlight that came there before,
+                        And a smile just beginning:
+    It touches her lips, but it dare not arise
+    To the height of the mystical sphere of her eyes,
+    And the large, musing eyes, neither joyous nor sorry,
+    Sing on like the angels in separate glory
+                        Between clouds of amber.
+
+    _Lay of the Brown Rosary._
+
+
+The desolation and abandonment which had fallen upon Edge Willoughby
+cannot be described.
+
+The sisters knew not what to think, or say, or do. A vague notion that
+all employment was incongruous when suffering under a _bereavement_ led
+them to sit in a circle round the dining-room, gazing at each other with
+stiff and pale faces, wondering if this nightmare-like day would ever
+end, and what would follow next.
+
+In the large drawing-room lay the motionless form of poor Godfrey, still
+and dead, in the gloom of closed blinds and drawn curtains. The same
+death-like quiet brooded over all the house. Miss Ellen lay on her couch
+in an agony of self-reproach, caused by the fact that it was owing to
+her influence entirely that the boy had come to Edge.
+
+Oh, that he had never come--that Elsa had never been subjected to the
+fiery trial which had terminated so fatally.
+
+It was all their fault, she told herself. They had grossly mismanaged
+the child--they had never sought her confidence, only exacted her
+submission. Now that Miss Ellen would have given everything she
+possessed for that confidence, it was, of course, obstinately withheld.
+No word could Elsa be made to speak, though, figuratively, they had all
+gone down on their knees to her.
+
+If she would only confess the truth--whatever it was they could pardon
+it, had been their piteous cry. But she would not speak. The only thing
+they could extract was an announcement that they all, she knew, took her
+for a murderess, and she would therefore not attempt to justify
+herself; and finally, all they could do was to allow her to go away into
+her own room and lock herself in. The whole situation was intensely
+awkward: for the Ortons were quartered upon them, and it was hard to say
+which was the greater--their dislike to being there, or the Misses
+Willoughbys' dislike to having them.
+
+On returning from the cliff, Ottilie had swept off all her belongings
+with a grand air, declaring that no human power should induce her to
+sleep under the same roof with Elsa, and had driven with her husband to
+the "Fountain Head," where they were met by William Clapp, who
+respectfully but firmly denied them admittance. "He had heard what the
+lady was pleased to say, aout on the beach this morning, and he warn't
+going t� harbor them as laid things o' that kind to the charge o' Miss
+Ullin as he had seen grow up, and meant to stand by to his dying day."
+
+There was absolutely no alternative but to go back ignominiously to Edge
+Willoughby, and beg for an asylum there till the inquest should be over.
+The request was granted with freezing hauteur by the sisters, Miss
+Charlotte adding that she thought it would be more pleasant for all
+parties if Mr. and Mrs. Orton had their meals served separately.
+
+The pair were out of doors now, wandering restlessly about, in quest of
+nobody quite knew what. When the bell sounded the sisters imagined that
+they had returned, and a tremor of excitement ran through the pallid
+assembly as the parlor-maid brought in a small card, on which was
+engraved simply:
+
+    _Mr. Percivale,_
+
+              _Yacht "Swan."_
+
+The gentleman followed his card, and stood just inside the door, still
+in his nautical and somewhat unusual dress, cap in hand, and with his
+clear eyes fixed upon Miss Ellen.
+
+"May I come in?" he asked.
+
+"O--certainly!" fluttered Miss Ellen.
+
+He went straight across the room to her couch and took her hand.
+
+"I hope you will allow me to introduce myself," he said. "I am the
+unfortunate man who hurled such a bomb-shell into the midst of the
+village this morning. I am now engaged in doing my poor best to repair
+the mischief I have caused. Take courage, Miss Willoughby--your white
+dove shall not receive so much as a fleck on her gold and silver
+plumage."
+
+Miss Ellen could hardly speak for tears.
+
+"She is flecked already," she gasped. "A vile accusation has been
+levelled at her before a crowd of witnesses. We are disgraced."
+
+"I think the lady who made the accusation will be the one to feel
+disgraced," answered Mr. Percivale, taking a seat beside her. "Keep up
+heart, Miss Willoughby, I feel sure this frightful accusation will be
+easily proved false."
+
+She looked up with a sudden spasm of hope.
+
+"Then you really think----" she began, and paused.
+
+"I think?" interrogatively.
+
+"You sincerely believe that Elaine is quite innocent of this--that she
+is as ignorant of the facts of the case as we are?" There was a
+feverish, frantic eagerness, in her voice as she spoke.
+
+"That is certainly my fixed belief," he said, calmly. "I fail to see how
+anyone could think otherwise. I know what you fear--that Miss Brabourne
+struck a blow in anger, and then was so horrified at its result that she
+dared not confess what she had done. There is a circumstance which
+renders this an impossible view of the case. Whoever murdered the poor
+boy afterwards scooped a shallow hole in the grass, partly out of sight
+beneath a bramble, and laid the body in it. To do this without becoming
+covered with blood and dirt would have been a miracle. Miss Brabourne
+came home last night, so Mr. Cranmer says, with the front of her dress
+marked with chalk; but there are plenty of witnesses, I think, to prove
+that she had no blood-stains, either on hands or dress, nor were her
+hands in the state they necessarily must have been had she dug a hole
+with insufficient tools."
+
+"That is true," said Miss Ellen, eagerly. "You shall see the dress if
+you like--it is soiled, but not nearly to that extent! This is
+hope--this is life. I never thought of all this before."
+
+"If you would allow me," went on the stranger, courteously, "I want to
+see more than Miss Brabourne's dress--I want an interview with her
+herself. Would you allow me to see her--alone?"
+
+There was a slight pause. Then Miss Charlotte spoke.
+
+"May I ask why you wish to see my niece in private?" she asked.
+
+"I will tell you frankly why. I am the only person who has fearlessly
+asserted from the first that I believe her to be innocent. I think it
+likely that she will, in consequence, accord me a confidence which she
+would withhold from anyone else."
+
+"He is right," said Miss Ellen, with tears. "She will not speak a word
+to us. We have never trusted her--we have let her see it; we have been
+very wrong. Take Mr. Percivale into the school-room, Emily, and see if
+you can induce Elsa to come down and see him."
+
+Percivale followed his guide into the small, dull room where most of
+Elsa's life had been passed. There were the instruments of her daily
+torture, the black-board, the globes, the slates and lesson-books, the
+rattling, inharmonious piano. Outside was the dip of the valley, the
+wooded height beyond, and, nearer, the wide sunny terrace, now a blaze
+of dahlias and chrysanthemums. He walked to the window and stood
+there--very still, and gazing out with eyes that did not betray the
+secret of what his thoughts might be. His cap lay on the small table
+near; leaning against the woodwork, he folded his arms, and so, without
+change of attitude or expression, awaited the entrance of the accused.
+
+Elsa came in after an interval of nearly a quarter-of-an-hour. She was
+white, and had evidently been weeping; but these accidents seemed
+scarcely to impair her beauty, while they heightened the strange
+interest which surrounded her, as it were, with an atmosphere of her
+own. Slowly closing the door behind her, she stood just within it, as
+still as he, and with her eyes fixed questioningly upon him, as if
+inquiring whether his first profession of faith in her had been shaken
+by what he had since heard.
+
+The slight sound of the lock made him rouse himself, and withdraw his
+gaze from the horizon to fix it upon her face. Over mouth, cheeks, and
+brow his eyes flickered till they rested upon hers; and for several
+moments they remained so, seeing only one another. The girl seemed
+reading him as she would read a page--as a condemned criminal might
+devour the lines which told him that his innocence was established.
+Gradually on her wistful face there dawned a smile--a ray of blessed
+assurance. She moved two steps forward, stopped, faltered, hid her face.
+
+He advanced quickly, stood beside her, and said,
+
+"I thank you."
+
+It made her look up hurriedly.
+
+"You--thank me?"
+
+"Yes; for your granting me this interview shows me that you are on my
+side--that you are going to sanction my poor efforts to help you. To
+what do I owe such honor? It ought to be the portion of some worthier
+knight than I; but, such as I am, I will fight for you if it costs me
+life itself."
+
+"You are--" she began, but her voice failed her. "I cannot say it,"
+cried she--"I cannot tell you how I think of you. You are a stranger,
+but you can see clearer than they can. Not one of them believes in
+me--not even my godfather. But you--you--" as if instinctively she held
+out both her hands.
+
+Taking them, he bent over them and lightly kissed them as he had done on
+the beach, with a grace which was not quite English. Then, flashing a
+glance round the room, he selected the least aggressively uncomfortable
+chair, and made her sit down in it. Leaning against the piano, in such
+an attitude that the whole droop of her posture and the hands which lay
+in her lap were clearly visible as he looked down upon her, he said:
+
+"I feel so ashamed to make you sit here and exert yourself to talk to a
+stranger when you are feeling so keenly. But I want you to help me by
+trying to remember certain incidents as clearly as you can. Will you
+try?"
+
+"I will do anything you tell me."
+
+"That is very good of you. Now forgive my hurrying you so, and plunging
+so abruptly into the midst of my subject, but my time is short--"
+
+She started.
+
+"Are you going away?"
+
+A rush of most unwonted color mounted to Percivale's cheeks, and he
+hesitated a moment before his reply.
+
+"No; not going till your innocence is established; but the inquest will
+be held here the day after to-morrow, and I want to be in a position to
+show you blameless by then."
+
+She lifted her head and smiled up at him.
+
+"You can do it. I believe you could do _anything_," she said, softly.
+
+He looked at her steadily as he replied,
+
+"It does seem at this moment as though a great deal were possible."
+
+There was an eloquent pause, during which the hall clock struck loudly.
+Its sound roused Percivale, and he began his questioning.
+
+"First of all, I want to know exactly what happened during your walk
+with your brother yesterday. Can you remember, and will you tell me
+carefully, what time you started, where you went, and how you parted?
+For all these things are of great importance."
+
+"Yes; I will tell you exactly what happened. It was about half-past-two
+o'clock when my aunts said I was to go out with Godfrey. I did not want
+to go--for two reasons, both of which I will tell you. The first was
+that I was feeling very miserable because I had just said good-bye to my
+friends the Allonbys, who were gone to London----"
+
+"You will forgive me interrupting you one moment," he said, in a very
+still voice, and with a fixed expression, "but Mrs. Orton this morning
+said that you were going to be married. May I ask if you are engaged to
+Mr. Allonby, because if so I think he ought to be telegraphed for--it
+would not be my place--I am not privileged----"
+
+He broke off and waited. After a moment she said,
+
+"I am not engaged to Mr. Allonby."
+
+"Thank you. I hope you did not think I was unnecessarily curious?"
+
+"No."
+
+"And now to continue. What other reason had you for not wishing to go
+out with Godfrey?"
+
+"He had been very rude a fortnight before, and Mr. Allonby punished him.
+I knew he would try to revenge himself on me as soon as Mr. Allonby was
+gone--he said so."
+
+"Exactly; but you went?"
+
+"Yes, I was obliged to go. So we started along the Quarry Road, and when
+we got some way we began to quarrel. I had a book with me that Mr.
+Allonby had given me, and Godfrey tried to take it away. I would not let
+him, and he grew very angry. I held it above my head, and he sprung up
+and hung on me, and managed somehow to get his foot underneath mine, so
+that I slipped on the road, and he got the book. I was feeling very
+low-spirited, and so weary of his tiresome ways that I began to cry. We
+were on the road leading to the cliff from the quarries, close to the
+cottage where Mrs. Parker lives. She has a son called Saul who is an
+idiot, and he hates Godfrey, because he used to set his bull-dog at him.
+The other day Saul threw a stone at Godfrey from behind a tree, and hit
+his leg, and so Godfrey was determined to pay him out. When he saw the
+cottage it reminded him of this, so he said he should run home to the
+stable-yard, and get Venom, his dog. He turned back, and ran along the
+road towards home, and I was too tired and too unhappy to follow him. I
+thought I would give him the slip, so I just went off and hid myself in
+the woods by Boveney Hollow. I sat in the woods and cried for a long
+time, and at last the wind had risen so, and the sky looked so black and
+threatening, that I was frightened, and I guessed that Godfrey had gone
+home by that time, so I came out of the woods by the shortest way, and
+when I reached the high-road I met Mr. Fowler and Mr. Cranmer, so I went
+home with them."
+
+"And that was the last you saw of your brother?"
+
+"Yes."
+
+"He ran home to fetch his dog, in order to set it at Saul Parker the
+idiot?"
+
+"Yes. He had done it before. He said it was to teach Saul to behave
+himself; for you know poor Saul doesn't know any manners, and he is
+always rude to strangers, he hates them so. If he so much as sees the
+back of a person he does not know, he begins to scream with rage."
+
+"Is he--this idiot--considered dangerous?"
+
+"Dangerous? Oh, no, I think he is quite gentle, unless you tease him. At
+least, I do remember Clara Battishill saying that he was growing cruel.
+He is a big boy. Mr. Fowler tried to persuade his mother to let him go
+to a home, where they would teach him to occupy himself; but she cried
+so bitterly at the idea of losing him; he is all she has to love."
+
+Mr. Percivale was silent; his eyes perused the pattern of the worn
+carpet.
+
+Furtively Elsa lifted her eyelids, and critically examined his face. A
+high, noble-looking head, the eyes of a dreamer, the chin of a poet, the
+mouth of a man both resolute and pure.
+
+His fair moustache did not obscure the firm sweet line between the lips;
+something there was about him which did not belong to the nineteenth
+century; an atmosphere of lofty purpose and ideal simplicity. His
+expression was quite unlike anything one is accustomed to see. There was
+no cynicism, no spite, no half-amused, half-bored tolerance of a trivial
+world--none of that air of being exactly equipped for the circumstances
+in which he found himself, which belonged so completely to Claud
+Cranmer.
+
+This was a nature quite apart from its surroundings--a nature which had
+formed an ideal, and would never mingle but with the realization of this
+ideal. For this man the chances of happiness were terribly few; he could
+never adapt himself, never consent to put up with anything lower or less
+than he had dreamed of. If by the mysterious workings of fate he could
+meet and win a woman whose soul was as pure, whose standard as lofty as
+his own, he would enjoy a happiness undreamed of here below by the many
+thousands who soar not above mediocrity; but if--if, as was so terribly
+probable, he should make a mistake; if, after all, he took Leah instead
+of Rachel, he would touch a depth of misery and despair equally unknown
+to the generality of mankind. For him existed no possibility of
+compromise; his one hope of felicity rested upon the simple accident of
+whom he should fall in love with. And, by a strange paradox, the very
+loftiness of his nature and singleness of his mind rendered him far less
+capable of forming a true judgment than a man like Claud, who had
+"dipped in life's struggle and out again," had many times
+
+            "... tried in a crucible
+    To what 'speeches like gold' were reducible,
+    And found that the bravest prove copper."
+
+It seems a necessity, more or less, to judge human nature from one's own
+standpoint; and not only the bent of his mind, but the circumstances of
+his life, had held Percivale always aloof from the hurrying rush of
+modern society, from intrigue, or deceptions, or, in fact, from what is
+called knowledge of the world in any form.
+
+Hence the statuesque simplicity of his expression. Meanness, passion,
+competition were words of which he understood the meaning but had never
+felt the force. His face was like Thorwaldsen's sculptures--chivalrous,
+calm, steadfast.
+
+The reddish gold of his soft hair and short beard, the deep violet blue
+of his deep-set eyes, and the delicate character of his profile were all
+in harmony with this idea. He was artistic and picturesque with the
+unconsciousness of a by-gone age, not with the studied straining after
+effect which obtains to-day.
+
+He did not feel Elsa's eyes as they studied him so intently and so
+ignorantly. Not one of the characteristics above indicated was visible
+to the girl; she only wondered how he could be so handsome and so
+interesting with that strange-colored hair; and how old he was; and what
+he thought of her; and whether he would be able to cleave through the
+terrible net of horror and suspicion and fear which was drawing so
+closely round her.
+
+At last he raised his head, met her fixed regard, and, meeting it,
+smiled.
+
+"You have told me just what I wanted--what I hoped to hear," said he.
+"Now I must take leave for the present. I shall come up the first thing
+to-morrow morning to report progress."
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXIX.
+
+                          The pride
+    Of the day--my Swan--that a first fleck's fall
+    On her wonder of white must unswan, undo!
+
+    _The Worst of It._
+
+
+It was evening when Percivale left Edge Willoughby, and walked slowly
+down the terrace, accompanied by dear little Miss Fanny, who had
+undertaken to show him the stile leading to the foot-path which was the
+nearest way to the quarries.
+
+Jackie, the chough, was strutting along the gravel in much
+self-importance, his body all sideways, his bright eye fixed on the
+stranger, and uttering his unmusical cry of, "Jack-ee! Jack-ee!"
+
+The young man paused, bent down, and caressed the bird, spite of the
+formidable-looking orange beak.
+
+"What a queer old chap!" he said.
+
+"Yes, he is quite a pet. Elsa is very fond of him," said Miss Fanny,
+seizing as eagerly as he had done on any topic of conversation which was
+not too heavily charged with emotion to be possible.
+
+Of the terrible issues so near at hand neither dared to speak. As if
+nothing more unusual than an afternoon call had transpired, Percivale
+asked of Jacky's age and extraction, learned that he was a Cornishman by
+birth, and of eccentric disposition, and so travelled safely along the
+wide gravel-walk, on one side of which the garden rose abruptly up,
+whilst on the other it sloped as suddenly down, losing itself in a maze
+of chrysanthemums, gooseberry-bushes, potatoes, and scarlet-runners,
+till a tall thorn hedge intervened to separate the garden from the
+cornfield, where the "mows" lay scattered about in every direction,
+dispersed and driven by the tempest of last night.
+
+So they gained the stile, and here Miss Fanny paused.
+
+"If you go down the hill by the foot-path, you will come out on the main
+road," she said, pointing with her dear little fat finger.
+
+"Thank you. Mr. Cranmer will meet me somewhere on the road--he said he
+would. I--I shall see you again as soon as--directly--as I said to your
+sister," stammered the young man, in an unfinished, fragmentary way.
+
+He took her hand, with the graceful gravity which characterized all his
+greetings of women.
+
+"Thank you," he said again, and, lifting his cap, vaulted over the
+stile, and walked rapidly down the foot-path.
+
+Miss Fanny gazed after him through a mist of tears, which she presently
+wiped away from her fresh cheeks, and trotted back to the terrace with
+an expression not devoid of hope.
+
+Her pigeons flew round her; they knew that it was past feeding-time. The
+gleaming wings flashed and circled in the light, and presently the
+gravel was covered with the pretty, strutting things, nodding their
+sheeny necks, and chuckling softly to each other.
+
+"Jack-ee! Jack-ee!" screamed the chough, discordantly, rushing in among
+their ranks, and routing them.
+
+"Jackie! Come here, you naughty bird!" cried Miss Fanny, interposing for
+the protection of her pets. "There! there! Go along, do! Go along,
+do!... I really don't know how it is--I do feel that I place such
+confidence in that young man! Quite a stranger, too! Very odd! But I
+feel as though a special Providence had sent that yacht our way to-day.
+It seems as though it had been sent purposely--it really does. Somehow,
+to-night, I feel as if help were near. No power can restore poor dear
+Godfrey, that's true; but we may save Elsa, I do hope and trust."
+
+Claud was leaning over the low stone wall of the highroad, when a touch
+on the shoulder roused him, and, looking up, he met Percivale's
+collected gaze.
+
+"Now, quick!" was all Percivale said; and, in a moment, both young men
+were hurrying along the Quarry Road as fast as their legs would carry
+them.
+
+They only spoke once; and then it was Claud who broke the silence.
+
+"Fowler thinks it hopeless--that you are altogether on a wrong track,"
+he said.
+
+"We shall see," was the response, in a tense voice which told of
+highly-strung nerves.
+
+Claud thought of his last journey along that road, staggering blindly in
+darkness and rain, with the screaming wind and thundering sea in his
+ears. Last night! Could it be only last night? A thousand years seemed
+to have elapsed since then. Life, just now, seemed made up of crisis;
+and he railed at himself for being hatefully heartless, because he could
+not help a certain feeling of excitement, which was almost like
+pleasure, in anticipating the _d�nouement_ of the affair.
+
+A growing admiration for the strange owner of the _Swan_ was his
+dominant sensation. There was a light of purpose in Percivale's eye, an
+air of conviction about his whole manner, which could not fail to
+influence his companion.
+
+The feelings of both young men were at a high pitch as they paused
+before the door of Mrs. Parker's somewhat remote cottage, and knocked.
+The woman opened the door and looked at her visitors in astonishment.
+One glance at her was enough to gauge her character in an instant. She
+was what country people call a "poor thing." Her expression was that of
+meek folly, and she wore a perpetual air of apology. Her red-rimmed,
+indefinite eyes suggested a perennial flow of tears, ready at the
+shortest notice, and her weak fingers fumbled at her untidy throat in
+fruitless efforts to hold together a dilapidated brown silk handkerchief
+which had become unfastened.
+
+"Good evening, gentlemen," she said, "what can I do for you?"
+
+Her air was mildly surprised.
+
+"We called in," said Claud, who was not unknown to her, "to ask if
+you've heard the awful news about the discovery on the cliffs this
+morning?"
+
+"Lord, no! She had heard never a word of it--nobody never took no
+trouble to look in and tell her any bit o' news as might be going; she
+might as well be dead and buried, for all the comfort she ever got out
+of _her_ life," grumbled she, plaintively.
+
+Even at this juncture, Claud could not refrain from a cynical reflection
+on womanhood, as, in the person of the widow Parker, it calmly reckoned
+the news of a murder among the comforts of life.
+
+"Your son Saul--where is he? Doesn't he bring you the news?" asked he.
+
+"Lord no! not he! he mostly forgets it all on the way home, he don't
+keep nothing in his head for more than three minutes at a stretch. An'
+he ain't been outside the place to-day, for I've had a awful night with
+him," whined Mrs. Parker, sitting down on a chair and lifting a
+coal-black pocket-handkerchief to her eyes.
+
+"What, another fit?" asked Claud.
+
+"He was out last night in all that gale, if you'll believe me, sir. What
+he was after passes me, an' I set an' set awaitin' for him, and
+a-putting out my bit o' fire by opening the door, when the wind come in
+fit to blind yer, an' at last in he come, with every thread on him
+drippin' wet, and what he'd been after Lord knows, for not a word would
+he say but to call for his supper, and afore he'd 'ardly swallowed three
+mouthfuls he was took----"
+
+"Took?" put in Percivale, sharply.
+
+The widow paused, with her last pair of tears unwiped on her cheeks, and
+stared at him.
+
+"With a fit, sir--he suffers from fits, my poor boy do," she said.
+"_Epiplexy_ the doctor do call it, and, whatever it is, it's a nasty
+thing to suffer with. It makes him sorft, poor lad, and the other chaps
+laughs at him, and it's very hard on him, for you see, now he's growin'
+up, he feels it. I ain't a Devonshire woman myself--I'm from London, I
+am, and I do say these Devonshire lads are a sight deal too rough and
+rude. When they was all little together, I could cuff them as hurt him,
+but they're too big for that now."
+
+There was no stopping her tongue. Poor soul! she led a lonely life, for
+her peevishness alienated her neighbors, who did not approve of the
+censure their manners and customs met with at her hands. She never could
+talk for five minutes to anyone without insisting on her London origin;
+and, as a result, it was but rarely that she could get an audience at
+all.
+
+The flood-gates of her eloquence were now opened, and she poured forth a
+lengthy string of grievances.
+
+"It's terrible hard on a woman like me, as never was strong at the best
+of times, to be left a widder with a boy like that on my hands! He's a
+head taller than 'is mother, and strong--bless yer! He could knock
+either o' you gentlemen down and think nothing of it, and you may think
+if he's easy to manage when he's took with his fits!"
+
+"You should send him away," said Claud, gravely. "Have you never thought
+that, if he is so strong, he might do somebody some harm in a fit of
+temper?"
+
+The woman looked attentive.
+
+"Well," she said, "I can't say I've ever give it much of a thought; but
+maybe you're right. But oh!" with a fresh access of tears, "I do call it
+hard to separate a poor widder from 'er only son! I do call it hard!"
+She set herself afresh to wipe her eyes, with shaking hands, reiterating
+her inconsistent complainings about the difficulties of managing Saul,
+and the cruelty of suggesting a separation; when suddenly, ceasing her
+whining and looking up, she said, "But you ain't told me the bit o'
+news, yet, have yer?"
+
+"You haven't given us much chance, my good woman," said Mr. Percivale.
+"The news is that young Mr. Godfrey Brabourne was found dead out on the
+cliffs this morning."
+
+As the words left his lips, a shuffling, thudding sound was heard, a
+door at the back of the little room was pushed open, and there stood
+Saul, leaning against the wall, attired merely in his shirt and
+trousers, the former open at the throat. His feet were bare, his thick
+yellow hair was matted, his cheeks were rosy and flushed; altogether he
+wore the look of having just that moment awakened from sleep.
+
+His great eyes, of Devon blue, looked out from beneath the tangled waves
+of hair with a shy smile. He recognised Claud, but, when his gaze fell
+on Percivale, his whole face changed. A look of fear and repulsion came
+over him--he uttered a hoarse cry or rather bellow, and, turning away,
+darted down a small dark passage and was lost to view.
+
+"There now! Did you ever!" cried his parent, indignantly. "Lord! what a
+fool the lad is! That's for nothing in life but because he seen you--"
+addressing Percivale, "and now he's gone to his hole, and nothing'll
+bring him out again perhaps for five or six hours, and nothing on him
+but his shirt and breeches! Oh, dear, dear, he'll kill me afore long,
+I'm blest if he won't!"
+
+"What do you mean by his hole?" asked Percivale.
+
+"It's a wood-shed as he's very partial to, an' hides all his treasures
+an' rubbish in there, out o' my reach. For it's very dark in there, and
+I can't get in very well, at least 'twouldn't be no use if I could,
+because I couldn't drive him out. I can't do nothing with him, when he's
+contrairy, and that's the truth, gentlemen."
+
+"But is it impossible to get into the woodshed?" continued Percivale,
+holding her to her point with a patience that made Claud marvel.
+
+"No, sir, but he's piled up the wood till you can only crawl in, and
+then as likely as not he'll hit you over the head," returned Mrs.
+Parker, encouragingly; "and it's that dark you can't see nothing when
+you _are_ in, so it's no sense to try, as I can see."
+
+"Why on earth don't you nail the place up when he's out, so that he
+_can't_ get in?" cried Claud, irritated beyond measure at her stupidity.
+
+"Well, I can't say I ever thought o' that," naively admitted the poor
+woman.
+
+"You are afraid Saul will take a chill if he stays there now?"
+interrogated Percivale.
+
+"I'm dead certain he will, sir!"
+
+"Very well, I'll go and fetch him out for you."
+
+"It ain't a bit o' use, sir," she cried, eagerly, "he'll never stir for
+you. He's mortal feared o' strange folks."
+
+"Never fear, I shall manage him," was the placid reply. "Give me a
+candle, will you?"
+
+He took the light in his hand, and followed the woman through the gloomy
+back regions of the little cottage to the wood-shed, the doorway of
+which was, as she had stated, barricaded with logs, in a sort of arch,
+so that only the lower half of it was practicable.
+
+"Saul! Are you in there?" cried his mother, shrilly.
+
+An idiotic gurgle of laughter, and a slight rustling, assured them of
+the fact.
+
+"If I push over this barricade, shall I hurt him?" asked Percivale.
+
+"No, sir, no--there's plenty of space beyond."
+
+"Here goes then," he answered; and placing his shoulder to the logs,
+handing the light to Claud, and getting a firm hold with his feet, he
+gave a vigorous heave, and the logs rolled clattering down, and about
+the shed.
+
+There was a scream from Saul, so loud and piercing that both young men
+thought he must be hurt. Snatching the candle, Percivale hurried in,
+over the prostrate defences. Saul was standing back against the wall, as
+far as he could get away, niched into a corner, his face hidden in his
+arms.
+
+"Come, Saul, my boy--come out of this dark place," said the intruder, in
+kindly tones. "Come--look at me--what is there to be afraid of?"
+
+The boy removed his screening arm from before his eyes with the pretty
+coquetry of a shy baby. He had apparently forgotten his rage, for he
+laughed--a low, chuckling laugh--and fixed his look appealingly on the
+stranger.
+
+"What made you run away--eh?" asked Percivale, gently.
+
+But no answer could be extorted from Saul. He would only laugh, hide his
+face, and peep again, with coy looks, from under his long lashes.
+
+Percivale flashed a look round him, and decided on making a venture to
+arouse some consciousness. By the light of the candle he held, every
+line of the lad's face was distinctly visible. Outside, Mrs. Parker was
+talking too volubly to Claud to hear what he might say.
+
+"Saul," he said, "where is Master Godfrey?"
+
+For a moment a spasm of terror crossed the beautiful face--a look which
+somehow suggested the dim return of intelligence once possessed; for it
+seemed evident that Saul had not always been absolutely idiotic, but
+that what brain he had had gradually been destroyed by epilepsy. His
+eyes dwelt with a look of speculation on those of his questioner, and
+his lips parted as if an answer were forced from him.
+
+"Out there!" he whispered.
+
+"What, out on the cliffs?"
+
+He nodded.
+
+"Is he dead--is Master Godfrey dead?" said Percivale, still keeping his
+eyes fixed on his by a strong effort of will.
+
+Saul nodded again.
+
+"Dead," he said, "quite dead! Naughty boy!"
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXX.
+
+                            East, west,
+    North, south I looked. The lie was dead
+    And damned, and Truth stood up instead.
+
+    _Count Gismond._
+
+
+Henry Fowler came out of the stables with heavy gait, and face from
+which the genial curves had fled. To-night you saw him in all his native
+plainness,--his leaden-colored eyes, unredeemed by the steady beam of
+cheery benevolence which usually dwelt there--his roughly-cut,
+ill-formed features, unsoftened by the suggestion of kindly peace which
+was their wonted expression.
+
+Figuratively speaking, he was smitten to the earth--humbled, abased, as
+he had never dreamed he could be. No room was in his mind for doubt. He
+saw, as he imagined, only too plainly, the whole of the tragedy on the
+cliffs--saw Elsa's very attitude and expression as, goaded to fury by
+the impudence of the boy, she had dealt him a wild, blind blow, the
+outcome of weeks and weeks of pent-up rage and dislike.
+
+Had she only told him, at once! Had she, on meeting him and Claud in the
+lane, only seized him, clung to him, cried for help and dragged him to
+the rescue, even though too late. But no! Her first impulse had been to
+hide what she had done. It was so fatally of a piece with his idea of
+her character. What to do--how to face the Misses Willoughby he could
+not tell.
+
+Once before--more than twenty years ago now--his life had been laid in
+ruins at his feet by the news of Alice Willoughby's engagement to
+Colonel Brabourne. Now, by Alice's child, this second bitter blow
+descended on the head of him who had borne the first so well and
+uncomplainingly.
+
+His one interest in life centred in Elsa Brabourne. The morning's
+intelligence had seemed to paralyse him. Like a man smitten suddenly in
+the face, he was left breathless--unable to rally or to fix on any plan
+of action.
+
+He was just returned from Philmouth, where he had been to interview the
+coroner and to make what arrangements were necessary. But, now that it
+was done, he could not remember whether he had done it or not. The whole
+drive there and back was a confused blur in his mind--he wondered
+whether he had managed to conduct himself rationally, to explain himself
+adequately. Before his eyes, as plainly as if he saw it still, was the
+picture of a child's pallid face, peaked and grey with death, dashed
+here and there with blood, and in its expression horridly, fatally
+resembling Elsa.
+
+Turn where he would, he saw it, with the lips discolored, the large eyes
+wide open, the little childish hands clenched in the agony of the sudden
+fruitless wrestle with death.
+
+"If she saw it," he repeated to himself, "if she saw it, would it not
+have sent her mad? So young as she is--she has never seen death! Oh,
+merciful God, is it possible she could have looked at him and kept her
+reason?"
+
+It was dark: the moon had not yet risen above the black hillside, and in
+the stables everything was very still. George the groom moved to and fro
+with a stable lantern in the harness-room above, and the shaft of light
+which gleamed down the staircase was the only light there was. George
+knew his master was in trouble, and longed to comfort him. Mr. Fowler
+was one of those who are always liked, and always well served by their
+inferiors. Everything about his house and estate was in excellent order.
+He never raised his voice, but his commands were always instantly
+obeyed.
+
+Here, in the stable, everything was trim and fresh, smelling of new-mown
+hay. Dart, the pretty little black mare, knowing that her master was
+somewhere near, turned her head wistfully to seek him. But he saw and
+heard nothing of his surroundings. In fancy, he was standing on the
+cliff, in the wind and sunshine, looking down upon a child's corpse.
+
+He felt as though he must suffocate.
+
+Rousing himself, he groped towards the door, pushed it open, and let the
+night air fan him. The rush of the brook through the garden sounded in
+his ears. Down, away across the valley, was the dark water in the bay,
+the hulk of the yacht dimly discernible through the faint mist. A wild
+idea crossed his mind as to whether it might not be possible to take
+Elsa secretly on board of the _Swan_, weigh anchor in the night, and
+carry away the girl to some other land, where a home might be made for
+her. A moment's reflection served to show the absurdity of such a
+scheme, and he laughed bitterly to himself as he realised the
+impossibility of casting such a record behind in the girl's life, and
+starting fresh again.
+
+Oh, to be able to go back for twenty-four hours! to be again, if but for
+one minute, the happy man he was when he walked at Claud's side through
+the storm to Brent. If the intervening minutes could be wiped out, as
+one wipes a child's sum from a slate, with a wet sponge!
+
+No use, no use, to cry out against the inevitable. Somehow or another,
+this horror which had come upon him must be lived through. He must not
+only bear it, but help others to bear it too.
+
+Slowly emerging from the stable, he shut the door behind him with a
+click; and, as he did so, he became aware of a sound of hurrying
+footsteps, of some one coming fast over the wooden bridge which spanned
+the brook, and making for the house with all speed.
+
+It was Claud, and there was in his manner such unusual velocity and
+vehemence that Mr. Fowler started forward, and ran hastily after him.
+
+They met in the hall. Claud had just flung the door wide, and was making
+the rafters ring with cries of, "Fowler! Fowler, I say!" when the owner
+of the name rushed in with white face and eager eyes, expecting he knew
+not what.
+
+Claud was in such a state as his host had never before witnessed; his
+hat was off, his cheeks glowing, his collar and tie awry, his usually
+immaculate hair all a standing mass of fluff, blown hither and thither
+by the wind, and his quiet eyes like two stars in their brilliancy and
+excitement.
+
+"Cranmer, my good fellow, what is it?" faltered Henry.
+
+"What is it? Why, the best news you ever heard in all your life! That
+extraordinary fellow Percivale has done the whole thing! There's not a
+doubt of it. Saul Parker was the assailant of Allonby and the murderer
+of poor little Godfrey! The whole thing is as clear as daylight!" Henry
+put out a hand uncertainly, as if to feel for the support of the wall.
+Claud darted to him, took the hand, and placed it on his own shoulder
+instead. "Look up, old man," he said, unable to keep his lips from
+smiles, his eyes from dancing. "All this is true as Gospel that I'm
+telling you."
+
+Henry cleared his throat once or twice. Then--
+
+"It can't be," he said, huskily, "it can't be. It's preposterous. What
+proof have you?"
+
+"The proof of Saul's coat and waistcoat soaked in blood--the proof of
+Godfrey's pocket-handkerchief steeped also in blood, rolled into a ball
+in the pocket of his jacket; and, last of all, what do you think, my
+friend? The proof of Mrs. Clapp's pudding-basin, tied up in the original
+and genuine blue handkerchief!"
+
+The face of agitation which Mr. Fowler turned to the speaker was pitiful
+to see.
+
+"You--you mean this," he said speaking thickly, like a drunken man; "you
+would never jest on such a subject--eh, lad?"
+
+"Jest? Is it likely? Do I look as if I were jesting? I can tell you I
+don't feel so. I couldn't put on that pace for a jest. My throat is as
+sore as if I were sickening for scarlet fever, and my heart feels as if
+it would burst through my ribs. I ran--all the way--from Parker's
+cottage--to tell you about it."
+
+Henry was grasping him by both shoulders now, and clinging to him as if
+the floor were unsteady beneath his feet.
+
+"You ran to tell me," he repeated, mechanically--"to tell me--what?
+Claud, if this is true, it means life to me--life to those good women
+yonder--it means _salvation_ for her, for my poor little girl, for
+Elsa!"
+
+His forehead sank on his outstretched arm, and his broad shoulders
+quivered.
+
+Claud softly patted his back, his own bright face all alight with
+unselfish gladness.
+
+"It's all true," he said, "true beyond your power to disbelieve. That
+Percivale is a wonderful fellow. Once he struck the scent, he stuck to
+it like a sleuth-hound. Every bit of evidence tallies exactly. The
+whole thing is as clear as daylight. All I marvel at now is that Saul
+Parker has been allowed to be at large for so long--how it was that
+nobody insisted on his being shut up."
+
+"But I never knew he was really dangerous," said Henry. "Such a thing as
+a murderous attack, I mean--I knew that lately he had taken to throwing
+stones, and I told him the other day that I should flog him if I found
+it out again. He has sense enough to know what he is not to do--that is
+what makes him so difficult to deal with. But that he should attempt
+murder!"
+
+"I remember him so well, in the Battishills' kitchen, the day he nearly
+did for poor Allonby," said Claud. "He must have hidden his
+pudding-basin, after eating the contents, somewhere in a hedge, and
+walked, calmly smiling, up to the farm, immediately after his first
+attempt at slaughter. Ugh! It's a grisly thought, isn't it, that we all
+have been walking calmly about all this summer with such a sword of
+Damocles over our heads. Why, those girls--the Miss Allonbys--he might
+have attacked them at any moment; they were all strangers."
+
+"Yes, but they had spoken to him, and been kind to him. Poor Godfrey
+owes his fate to his own malignity, I am afraid," said Henry, turning
+away with a heavy sigh. He passed his hand over his brow as if to clear
+it, and then, lifting his eyes to Claud's, smiled for the first time in
+many hours. "I feel as if you had waked me out of a nightmare," he
+said--"a horror that was overwhelming--that shut out everything, even
+hope ... and God. Now that it is over, I wonder how I could have brought
+myself to believe such a thing of her." He spoke slowly, and at
+intervals, as each thought occurred to him. "Poor child! poor slandered
+child! Claud, she must know it to-night. We must save her so many hours
+of suffering--we must tell her now. Where is Mr. Percivale?"
+
+"He is gone there--straight--to Edge. I parted from him at the
+cross-roads, and ran up here for you."
+
+"He has every right to be first," faltered Henry. "Will anything I can
+do for Elsa ever atone for the wrong of my unjust suspicion? God pardon
+me! I was _sure_ she was guilty."
+
+"You had strong grounds."
+
+"I never dreamed of connecting it in any way with poor Allonby's
+disaster. I never thought of it in connection with anything else at all.
+It simply seemed to flare out upon me like a conflagration, blotting out
+everything else in the world. It numbed my faculties."
+
+"I know it did. Never mind, now,. It is all right, the darkness is over
+past, the horror is slain. Come, shall we go to Edge?"
+
+"Yes, Claud. God bless you, my boy--you thought of me--you would not go
+on without me. We must be close friends after this, all our lives."
+
+"We shall--I hope and believe."
+
+The young man set the door wide. The lamp from the hall streamed out
+into the quiet night. The soft rustling of the trees mingled with the
+rushing of the falling brook. Walking down the grassy slope, they came
+upon the bridge. A silent, solitary figure stood upon it, leaning upon
+the parapet and gazing down upon the unseen but vocal waters as they
+hurried past.
+
+"Percivale!" said Claud, with a start.
+
+"Yes." He roused himself, and answered as tranquilly as if that day had
+passed in the most ordinary routine. "I thought it was unfair to steal a
+march upon you both, so I followed you here, and waited."
+
+"Then you have not been to Edge?"
+
+"Not yet."
+
+Without another word they set off walking as fast as they could. Henry
+longed for words to thank and bless the young man at his side; but the
+tongue does not always obey the will, and he found none.
+
+The dew was heavy on the pastures; the last remnants of wind were
+dropping down to sleep. Life and the world seemed now as full of repose
+as this morning they had been instinct with tragedy, and with rapid,
+terrifying motion. No glimmer in any of the cottages, no moon to light
+the rich purple recesses of darkness which enveloped the sea. Henry led
+the way among the winding foot-paths--a way which he could have trodden
+blindfold--the others followed in complete silence.
+
+As they neared the house, a solitary light appeared,--it was in Miss
+Ellen's window.
+
+Henry threw some pebbles up at the glass, and presently the pane was
+opened, and the invalid appeared. She was still quite dressed.
+
+"Let us in, Miss Ellen," said Mr. Fowler, in subdued accents. "Let us
+in--we could not rest till morning. Mr. Percivale has news for you."
+
+"One moment--I will send some one down to you."
+
+She disappeared, and for several silent minutes they waited in the
+porch. A great bush of lemon-scented verbena grew there. Claud used to
+pull a leaf of it and crush it in his hand whenever he came in or out.
+Now, in the still night, the strong fragrance reeked from it, and to
+each of the three men waiting there, that scent always afterwards
+recalled that scene.
+
+The bolts were drawn at last, and there stood Jane Gollop, in night
+attire of the most wondrous aspect.
+
+"Come in, gentlemen," said she, in subdued accents and a husky voice
+which told of bitter weeping. "You must come upstairs into Miss
+Willoughby's room, if you wish to see her; as you know, she can't come
+down to you. Will you kindly tread very softly, please?"
+
+"I'll wait down here for you two," whispered Claud.
+
+"No, no, my boy. Come up with me," returned Mr. Fowler, firmly.
+
+In single file they followed Jane up the staircase, in a silence broken
+only by the ticking of the great clock on the stairs.
+
+Miss Ellen sat upright on her sofa, awaiting them. As they entered, she
+held up a warning finger, and said, "Hush!"
+
+Following the direction of her eyes, they noticed that a screen had been
+drawn round the bed, hiding it from view. They waited, and so silent
+were they, that from behind this screen a low, regular breathing was
+audible.
+
+Miss Willoughby looked at her visitors with a sort of defiance--a noble
+defiance--on her worn face. Her eyes were luminous and steadfast.
+
+"I don't know what is your errand here to-night," she said, speaking
+scarcely above a whisper,--"something very important, I feel sure; but,
+before any of you speak one word, I have something to say, and something
+to show you. Henry Fowler, I believe we are wronging Elaine."
+
+He started, and turned towards her.
+
+"Yes; I feel sure we are wronging her--so sure, that it amounts, with
+me, to a moral conviction of her innocence. I want to tell you, all
+three, before a word has been said--before anything is proved either
+way--that I am confident that my niece is altogether innocent. I would
+say the same if a jury had condemned her to death. She had no share in
+this crime. I am glad you are all here--I will take your opinion. Henry,
+fold back the screen, as noiselessly as possible, and tell me, all of
+you, if that sleep is the sleep of conscious guilt."
+
+In a dead silence Henry went forward, and moved away the screen.
+
+Stretched on the bed lay Elsa, all her golden shower of hair loose, and
+streaming over the pillows. She wore a pale blue wrapper, and Miss Ellen
+had thrown a shawl across her feet to prevent her taking a chill. The
+girl's whole attitude was that of weariness, and profound, healthy,
+natural repose. The soft, warm rose of sleep was on each cheek, the
+black-fringed lids hid the large eyes, the breathing was as regular as
+that of an infant, and the expression exquisitely sweet.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXXI.
+
+                                           He looked,
+    Ocean and earth, the solid frame of earth
+    And ocean's liquid mass beneath him lay
+    In gladness and deep joy. The clouds were touched,
+    And in their silent faces did he read
+    Unutterable love....
+    No thanks he breathed, he proffered no request;
+    Rapt with still communion that transcends
+    The imperfect offices of prayer and praise,
+    His mind was a thanksgiving to the Power
+    That made him; it was blessedness and love!
+
+    _The Excursion._
+
+
+Spell-bound, the three gentlemen stood looking at the sleeping girl,
+till the pause was broken by Miss Ellen.
+
+"Well?" she said, "what do you think?"
+
+Henry Fowler opened his lips to speak, but closed them again, with a
+glance at Percivale.
+
+The glance was unheeded, the young man was standing with a look on his
+face which, for some inexplicable reason, made Henry's heart leap in his
+side. So might Adam have looked on Eve when first he saw her sleeping--a
+look of intense admiration, mixed with a reverence that was almost
+worship. He seems to have forgotten everything but the fact that he
+stood there, by a wonderful chance, gazing at this consecrated girlish
+slumber.
+
+Claud, who stood next him, at last put out his hand, and lightly touched
+his arm. He started.
+
+"Will you tell Miss Willoughby?" whispered Claud.
+
+He shook his head.
+
+"Let Mr. Fowler tell her," he replied, gently.
+
+"You have not answered my question--do you believe in her innocence?"
+said Miss Ellen, appealing to all three.
+
+"We know she is innocent, dear Miss Ellen. Mr. Percivale has proved it."
+
+It was too much; she uttered a cry, and, at the cry, Elsa started from
+sleep, and sat upright, pushing back her cloudy hair, and in speechless
+bewilderment at finding herself in her aunt's room, still half dressed,
+and in presence of three gentlemen. The lovely crimson flooded her face
+as she tried to collect her thoughts, and to rise.
+
+A scene of some confusion ensued.
+
+Miss Ellen, in her agitation, was trying to ask for an explanation, with
+her voice dissolved in tears. Elsa, springing from the bed, moved
+towards her, still half-awake, vaguely troubled--foreseeing some fresh
+catastrophe; and then Mr. Fowler caught her in his arms, kissing her and
+somewhat incoherently imploring her to forgive him, while Percivale
+stood at a little distance, speaking only with his eyes. And those eyes
+set the girl's heart throbbing and raised a wild tumult in her. So by
+degrees everything was explained, nobody exactly knew how; but, in the
+course of half-an-hour, Elsa knew that she was saved, and that she owed
+her salvation solely to him who stood before her, with his head lowered,
+and the lamplight gilding the soft, downy, curling mass of his hair.
+They did not stay long. It was he who hurried them away, that they might
+not break in too far on the girl's rest.
+
+Miss Willoughby could hardly let him go. Something about this young
+man's whole appearance and manner appealed wonderfully to her
+sympathies. She held his hand long in hers, looking at him with eyes
+swimming in grateful tears.
+
+"You know," he said, with a smile, "you will insist on so greatly
+exaggerating what I have done; it was quite simple and obvious; I merely
+set on foot an investigation."
+
+"It may have been simple and obvious, but it never occurred to anybody
+but you," said Claud, bluntly.
+
+"No; because you were all biassed. I told you so. I am very sorry for
+that poor mother--for Mrs. Parker. I shall go to her early next morning.
+It was pitiful to see her. She was so utterly without the least
+suspicion of what I was driving at, that I felt like a traitor, worming
+myself into her confidence. Good-night, Miss Brabourne. You will sleep
+again, I hope."
+
+"I don't know, I don't feel the least bit sleepy," said Elsa,
+feverishly; "and it is nearly morning now, you know."
+
+Henry started.
+
+"Is it so late? I had no idea. Come, we must be off at once."
+
+Outside, the blackness of the night was just decreasing. The clouds
+which had gathered in the evening were rolling away, leaving gaps full
+of pallid stars. A chill cold pierced the limbs, and the heavy dew of
+autumn bathed all the vegetation.
+
+"You will come home with us, of course?" said Mr. Fowler to Percivale.
+
+"No, thanks, I can't. I must go aboard my _Swan_. The men are waiting
+for me on the shore."
+
+"All this time? Are you sure?"
+
+"Quite sure. Good-night."
+
+"Nay, nay; we'll see you down to the beach. Your crew may have grown
+tired of waiting, in which case you must come to Lower House."
+
+They walked on for some time indulging in desultory conversation, when
+suddenly Henry remarked to Claud,
+
+"Poor Allonby ought to know of this."
+
+Percivale turned towards him, and looked searchingly at him. It was
+light enough for them to see each other's faces now.
+
+"There is no engagement between Mr. Allonby and Miss Brabourne?" he
+asked.
+
+"No, none. I see more than ever now how wise I was to refuse to allow
+it. He is a good fellow, but she did not really care for him--she does
+not know what love means--she had never met a young man till this
+summer. I told him he must give her time. Personally I like him. He has
+no money and has no prospects, but I do not think he is a
+fortune-hunter. Let her go through the fire of a year in London, and
+find out what her tastes and inclinations really are."
+
+Percivale listened to all this with a rivetted attention, but made no
+reply; and now they were on the beach, their steps crunching upon the
+shingle.
+
+A seaman stood, with his broad back turned to them, looking out over the
+smooth, leaden expanse of sea. In the boat a second man was fast asleep.
+Out in the bay, a lamp glimmered, showing the graceful shadowy outline
+of the yacht.
+
+"M�ller!" said Percivale.
+
+The man turned at once. His master addressed him in German, in a glad
+voice which left little doubt as to the tidings he was relating. A broad
+grin gradually broke over the man's face, and he waved his cap
+ecstatically, shouting hurrah! Then he ran to rouse his companion, who
+was soon acquainted with the joyful news, and a grand shaking of hands
+all round took place. Then Percivale, taking leave of Henry and Claud,
+stepped into the boat, and the keel grated on the beach as it slipped
+into the chill, steely colored waters. The two on the beach stood
+together, watching as the oars dipped, and the waves broke softly. It
+was a sight worth watching, for a marvellous change was coming over the
+world, a change so mysterious, so exciting, so full of beauty, that they
+began to wonder, as all of us have wondered in our time, why they were
+not oftener awake to see the breaking of the day.
+
+A scarlet flush was rimming the east, and a glow began to creep over the
+dull sea. Further and further it spread, while everything around took
+clear and definite form. The cliffs, the landslip, the coastguard
+station, the shore, all grew out gradually and yet rapidly from the
+darkness, and every moment the color waxed more bright, and the sky,
+which had seemed so dense, became translucent and dark blue, while one
+by one the pale stars went out, extinguished by the rosy-fingered Eos.
+
+A cold fresh breeze whistled by, and Claud shivered as it passed. It
+reminded him of the sad sighing of old Tithonus, left helpless in the
+cold regions of the dark, whilst Aurora, warm and blooming, sprang up to
+meet the sun. Unconsciously to himself, he wished that Wynifred Allonby
+stood by him to watch that dawn--she would have understood. He could
+not talk of Tithonus to Henry Fowler. His eye roamed over
+
+    "The ever silent spaces of the East,
+    Far-folded mists, and gleaming halls of morn."
+
+Ah! what was that which shivered like a silver arrow through the dull
+haze that brooded over the sluggish waters? The mist had become
+transparent, golden, luminous--such a glory as might any moment break
+away to disclose the New Jerusalem coming down out of the heaven of
+heavens.
+
+And now the whole sea was one mass of pearly and rose and amber light,
+which had not as yet faded into "the light of common day." All was
+illusion--the infancy of day, the time of fairy-tales, like that
+childhood of the world when wonders happened, and "Ilion, like a mist,
+rose into towers."
+
+A slight exclamation from Henry broke his musing, and made him turn his
+head.
+
+The _Swan_ lay motionless, her whiteness warmed and softened by the
+still mysterious light, till it looked almost like the plumage of the
+bird whose name she bore. The radiance gleamed on the motionless sails,
+and shimmered on the sea all round her.
+
+Close to the prow stood Percivale. He had taken off his coat, and looked
+all white as he stood in the glow. Lifting his hat, he waved it to the
+watchers on the shore, with a gesture like that of one victorious, and,
+as he did so, up darted the sun with a leap above the sea, and its first
+ray shot straight across the sparkling water, to rest on his fair head
+like a benediction.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXXII.
+
+    But most of all would I flee from the cruel madness of love.
+
+    _Maud._
+
+
+There was a deep silence between Fowler and Claud as they walked
+homewards in that dewy autumn dawn. Every moment increased the beauty of
+the scene through which they walked--the little brooks which continually
+crossed their path rushed vehemently, swollen with the heavy rain which
+had fallen on the night of the storm. A balmy feeling was in the still
+air--a full, ripe feeling of autumn, and even now the beams of the sun
+were warm. It was going to be a hot day, such a day as shooters love
+amongst the stubble--such a day as swells the blackberry to a luscious
+bulk and flavor. Autumn in her warmth and beauty and her panoply of
+varying moods; not summer back again. She, as Claud had divined, was
+gone for this year, not to return again; she had died shrieking, in the
+storm that drove the _Swan_ into Brent Bay, and the wild sou'-wester had
+sung her obsequies.
+
+Is there anything more wonderful in nature than the rich moisture with
+which an English autumn night will deluge every spray and every leaf and
+every grass-blade? The pastures this morning were hoary with pearly
+drops, the beeches and ashes literally drenched with wet, which showered
+itself on the heads of the two as a light bird clung to the bough and
+set it swaying. Already the sun was drawing it up like steam from the
+contented land, making a mist which hid the windings of the valley from
+their view.
+
+It pleased Claud to imagine that the old earth was at her toilette--had
+just emerged, dripping, from her matutinal tub. This conceit reminded
+him of his own tub, for which he had a strong hankering. He did not feel
+sleepy; a bath and a cigar were all that he desired.
+
+What a strange night it had been!
+
+This particular summer had brought him more new sensations, more
+experiences than all the rest of his life put together. He felt as if it
+had altered him, somehow. He was not the same person who had been
+stopped as he drove along the Philmouth Road by a girl with scared face
+and streaming hair. Circumstances over which he, apparently, had very
+little control had forced him to remain here in this valley, and for the
+space of one summer, look at life from a totally new point of view. He
+was wondering whether it would last. For the first time he had met men
+and women who, his inferiors in social standing, were yet his equals in
+breeding and manners--a man like Henry Fowler, probably a son of the
+soil, the descendant of generations of farmers, who in chivalry and in
+purity of mind would put many a Lord Harry of his acquaintance to shame;
+girls like the Allonbys, who worked for their living, yet in delicacy
+and refinement--ay, and looks too,--equalled all and surpassed most of
+the women who formed the "set" he moved in.
+
+He had always imagined himself a leveller at heart, one who ignored
+social distinctions. Now he had been given opportunity to put his
+theories into practice; and he found, as most people do, that theory and
+practice are different in some mysterious way. A struggle was going on
+in his mind, a struggle of which he was hardly conscious, and of which,
+had he put it into words, he would have been heartily ashamed. The point
+at issue was a small one, but, like the proverbial straw, it showed
+which way the current flowed.
+
+Should he, when in town, call on the Allonbys? That was the point that
+vexed his mind--the point that was never quite out of sight, even in all
+the congested excitement of the last two days. As he walked up the
+meadow footpath to-day, towards Lower House, it was his fixed intention
+to call upon them; but would that intention hold a month hence, as he
+strolled down Portland Place towards the parental mansion? That was the
+trouble. Was this fancy which possessed him now--this fancy for a life
+in the country, with only a small income and the society of one woman, a
+fancy only? Or was it something more? Would it wash? Such was the slangy
+but forcible way in which he expressed it. He could not be sure. His
+mind was so tossed and disturbed that he felt as though, either way he
+decided, he must infallibly regret it.
+
+The idea of never seeing Wynifred again was anything but pleasant; the
+idea of having her always at his side was too vague to be wholly
+comforting. He believed he should like a middle course--her society when
+he felt inclined for it, now and then, but no binding down in the
+matter. And yet he felt dimly that this idea could not be worked,
+exactly, and this for more than one reason. First, because he felt sure
+that, if he ever saw her at all, his feelings with regard to her could
+not remain stationary. He must grow to want her either less or more.
+Secondly, because his notions of honor were strict, and he felt that, if
+he, an earl's son, sought out the Allonbys, and appeared bent on the
+society of Wynifred in particular, it might be unpleasant for her, if
+nothing came of it.
+
+And then, suddenly, arose the reflection that all this reasoning was
+based on the supposition that Miss Allonby would have him if she could;
+a point on which, when he came to consider it, he felt by no means
+certain.
+
+This was humiliating. As they came to the wicket-gate of Lower House, he
+finally decided _not_ to call at Mansfield Road. He was not going to be
+made a fool of.
+
+And, even as he made this resolution, arose the wild desire to go and
+narrate to Wynifred in person the tragic details of the past forty-eight
+hours. She would appreciate it so.... How her mind would seize on every
+point, how she would listen to him with that expression of eager
+interest which he could always awaken on any other subject but that of
+himself.
+
+This brought his mind to the memory of their conversation about Elaine
+that afternoon in the boat. He remembered her guarded answers and the
+unfair way in which he had pressed her to give opinions which she had
+seemed sorry to have to hold.
+
+"She was wrong about Miss Brabourne," he reflected. "We have all been
+wrong about her, all misjudged her--even Fowler, who ought to know her
+so well."
+
+At the date of the above-mentioned conversation, his distrust of Elsa
+had certainly equalled if not gone beyond Wynifred's; now, the revulsion
+of feeling was complete.
+
+Nothing in this world so enlists the sympathies of mankind as the victim
+of an unjust suspicion. Elsa had been under the shadow of the darkest of
+accusations. She was now declared to be innocent as the day. Claud's
+heart turned to her, as the heart of anyone calling himself a man must
+infallibly do. He felt as though his strictly neutral position had been
+the direst of insults--as though he wanted to kneel at her feet and kiss
+the hem of her garment. Percivale had not been neutral--he had seen, had
+known the falseness of the monstrous charge; Claud thought he would like
+to be in his place now just for four-and-twenty hours. He must be the
+hero of the moment, as Elsa was the heroine.
+
+And what a heroine! The remembrance of the girl as she lay asleep,
+framed in her wealth of hair, flashed vividly upon him as they reached
+the hall door.
+
+"By Jove! She is beautiful!" he said, quite unconscious that he spoke
+aloud.
+
+Henry paused, with his latch-key in his hand and looked at him with an
+amused gleam in his eyes.
+
+"What!" said he, "you too!"
+
+Claud started, laughed, flushed deeply, and shook his head.
+
+"Oh, no--not that," he said. "Not that at all. Of course I am a
+worshipper at the shrine of injured innocence and persecuted
+beauty--every knight-errant must be that, you know; but no more. I
+wonder why?"
+
+"You wonder why what?"
+
+"I wonder why I am not madly in love with Miss Brabourne. I fully
+intended to be, at one time. Why shouldn't I be? I don't understand it."
+
+"I can tell you why, if you care to know," said Henry, smiling quietly
+to himself as he set open the door, and crossed his threshold.
+
+"Oh, it's of no consequence; thank you," said Claud, with suspicious
+hurry, and reddening slightly.
+
+"No? Well, perhaps you are wise," was the grave answer. "I find that
+young people mostly _are_ very prudent in these days. It would be quite
+a relief occasionally to see a man carried away by the strength of his
+feelings."
+
+Claud looked earnestly at him.
+
+"Don't you think a man ought to have himself well in hand?" he asked.
+
+"Oh, I suppose so; but I am not such a believer in the universality of
+self-discipline in the young men of the day. They don't control their
+desires for high play, costly cigars, horses, wine, or enjoyment
+generally. It is only in the matter of marriage that I have noticed this
+singular discretion overtakes them. Don't you think one may safely
+attribute it to another motive than self-control? Caution is often
+merely a name for selfishness."
+
+"And you think this applies to me?" said Claud, slowly, hanging up his
+cap with deliberation. "I don't say you're wrong. But it's a nice point,
+which I should like to get settled for me--which is the least lovable
+course? To decline to obey the dictates of your heart from motives of
+prudence, or to follow the lead of your feelings, and so drag down to
+poverty the woman you profess to love, but in reality only desire to
+possess?"
+
+"My dear fellow," said Henry, affectionately, "you are taking this too
+seriously. It's a question one can't well discuss in the abstract,
+particularly now, when you look as haggard as a ghost and are ready to
+drop with fatigue. Come, you must really get some rest. It is seven
+o'clock, I declare, and you have been on your legs for four-and-twenty
+hours."
+
+Claud did certainly looked fagged now that the full light of high day
+fell on his pale face. He sat down on the lowest stair, yawned,
+stretched, and asked, sleepily,
+
+"What time is the inquest?"
+
+"Twelve o'clock. You go straight upstairs, I'll send you your breakfast
+in a quarter-of-an-hour, and then you are to lie down and get two or
+three hours' sleep. I'll have you called in time. Come, get up."
+
+Claud remained immovable.
+
+"I wonder who he is," he said at last.
+
+"Whom?"
+
+"Percivale. I should like to know."
+
+"You won't find out by sitting on the staircase, my boy. Come, do go."
+
+"All right--I'm going. Whoever he is, he's a trump, and that's something
+to know about a fellow."
+
+The "trump" in question had been swimming vigorously in the glittering,
+lively sea for a quarter-of-an-hour. He emerged from the water
+invigorated and glowing, with the drops in his red-gold hair.
+
+His crew had a hot breakfast ready for him, to which when dressed he did
+ample justice; and then giving orders to be waked, and for the boat to
+be in readiness at eleven, he stretched himself on a sofa which they had
+brought on deck, and prepared to sleep.
+
+This, however, was more easily said than done. He had never felt more
+wide awake in his life. Stretched on his back, his arms under his head,
+the light motion of the blue waters lulling him gently, he lay and
+thought over all that had happened. The sunshine poured down upon him,
+and everything was very still. Now and again there was the white flash
+of a passing bird, shaft-like through the air; now and then a low,
+guttural German laugh, as his crew sat together discussing this latest
+adventure of their roving master.
+
+Elaine's face was present to his fancy--so vividly that he had only to
+close his eyes to see every detail of it. The startled expression, the
+wistful gaze, the exquisite complexion, the golden shower that framed
+her.
+
+The words of a favorite poetess of his seemed saying themselves over in
+his brain:
+
+    "And, if any painter drew her,
+    He would take her, unaware,
+    With an aureole round the hair."
+
+His heart began to beat loudly at the thought of seeing her again so
+soon. How beautiful she was! What would she look like if she stood
+there--just there on the white deck of the _Swan_, with a background of
+flickering sea and melting air, and a face from which horror and appeal
+were gone, leaving only the fair graciousness of maidenhood? The thought
+was delicious. Raising himself on his elbow, he looked around. How
+pretty his yacht was! How glad he felt that this was so. Was it good
+enough to bear the pressure of her little foot? Dare he invite her to
+come on board, even if only for a moment, that he might always hereafter
+feel the joy of knowing that her presence had been there?
+
+And what when she had gone again--when the few moments were over, and
+she had departed, taking with her all light from the skies, and all
+heart from life?
+
+He tried to fancy what his feelings might be, when again the anchor was
+weighed, and he should see the coast receding behind the swift _Swan_.
+Could he bear it? That seemed the question. Was it possible that he
+should bid good-bye to this valley as he had bid good-bye to so many a
+fair spot before?
+
+He tossed himself impatiently over. He could not do it. No, no, and
+again no! Was he Vanderdecken, that he should fly from place to place
+and find no rest? Was this roving so very pleasant, after all?... what
+had been the charm of it?... And he was certainly very lonely. Doubtless
+it was a selfish life. He knew he had adopted it for reason good and
+sufficient--a reason which had not been of his own seeking. But now----
+
+He sprang from his sofa and wandered to and fro on the deck. That
+restlessness was upon him which comes to all of us, when suddenly we
+discover that the life which we have hitherto found sufficient is
+henceforth impossible to us. Looking steadily into the future, facing it
+squarely, as his manner was, he recoiled for a moment. For he seemed to
+see, in a single flash, all his life culminating in one end--all the
+love of his heart fixed upon one object.
+
+How much he required of her? Suppose--suppose----Oh, fate, fate, how
+many possibilities arose to vex his soul! Suppose she loved Allonby.
+Suppose she should never be able to care for him--Percivale. And then
+arose in his heart a mighty and determined will to carry this thing
+through, and make her love him. At that moment he felt a power surge
+within him which nothing could withstand. As he stood there on the deck,
+he was already a conqueror;--he had slain the monster--surely he could
+win the heart of the maiden, as all doughty champions were wont to do.
+
+The mist was broken away now, and the roof of Edge Willoughby--the roof
+which sheltered Elsa--was visible to his eyes. He sent an unspoken
+blessing across the water towards it.
+
+The restlessness began to subside.
+
+He threw himself again on the sofa, and this time the wooing air seemed
+to creep into his brain and make him drowsy. His thoughts lost their
+continuity and became scrappy, disjointed, hazy. At last fatigue
+asserted its empire finally. The lids closed over the steadfast eyes;
+and the young champion slept, with his cheek pillowed on his arm, and
+his strong limbs stretched out in a delicious lassitude.
+
+The sailors crept, one after the other, to look upon him as he slept.
+Old M�ller, who had held him in his arms as a baby, gazed down at him
+with fond triumph. There was little he could not do, this young master
+of theirs, they proudly thought, and, as M�ller noted the noble
+innocence of the sleeping face, it recalled to him vividly the deathbed
+of the young mother of eighteen, as she lay broken-hearted, sinking away
+out of life in far off Littsdoff, a remote village of north Germany. A
+tear slid down his weather-stained face, as he thought in his
+sentimental German way how proud that poor child would have been of her
+son could she have lived to know his future.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXXIII.
+
+    The air broke into a mist with bells,
+    The steeple rocked with the crowd, and cries;
+    Had I said "Good folks, mere noise repels,
+    But give me your sun from yonder skies,"
+    They had answered--"And afterwards what else?"
+
+    _The Patriot._
+
+
+The inquest was held at the school-house.
+
+For two hours the excitement in the village had been something
+tremendous. A huge crowd had assembled outside the school to watch the
+proceedings, and had recognised the various arrivals with breathless
+awe. First of all Mr. and Mrs. Orton, in a hired fly from Stanton, the
+dark and menacing brows of the lady boding ill for all her adversaries.
+By special request of Mr. Fowler, who had been roused by her to the most
+furious pitch of which his gentle nature was capable, all tidings of Mr.
+Percivale's discoveries had been kept from them. They swept in, greeted
+by a faint hissing from the rural population, and Mrs. Orton broke
+afresh into loud grief at sight of the sheet which covered poor little
+Godfrey's body.
+
+Next arrived the coroner, driven by Mr. Fowler in his own dog-cart, and
+two other official-looking personages, who walked straight in, while Mr.
+Fowler nodded to some of those who stood near, with a steady
+cheerfulness so unlike his crushed depression of yesterday that a sudden
+wave of indefinable hope arose in the hearts of many.
+
+Next, followed by four members of his crew, the stranger Mr. Percivale
+walked quietly up the hill, and in at the wicket-gate. He was very pale
+and there were purple marks under his eyes telling of want of sleep; but
+the still confidence of his manner did not by any means quench the spark
+that Mr. Fowler's aspect had kindled. A faint cheer followed him as he
+vanished into the interior of the school-house; but in a moment he
+reappeared, and stood at the door gazing down the hill as if expecting
+some one.
+
+And now was seen a spectacle which literally stopped the breath of the
+momentarily increasing crowd--a sight so unexpected, so unaccountable,
+that one old woman shrilly screamed out, "Lord ha' mercy on us!" and a
+strange thrill passed over the assembly as a cart appeared, and stopped
+before the entrance. In the cart was not only the Edge Valley constable,
+but two from the Stanton constabulary, and in their charge was the widow
+Parker, in hysterics, and Saul, seated with a smile on his face, and his
+beautiful hair just lifted by the wind.
+
+The sensation was tremendous; and it was greatly increased when, as the
+sobbing, frantic widow staggered blindly up the path, Mr. Percivale was
+seen to touch her kindly on the arm, and to whisper a few words which
+had the effect of checking her loud distress and inducing her to compose
+herself somewhat.
+
+But it was not for her he had waited, for still he kept his place at the
+door; and presently the sound of wheels was again heard, and up the hill
+came the Misses Willoughby's wagonette. As it approached, some of the
+spectators noticed that Mr. Percivale uncovered his bright hair, and so
+stood until the carriage stopped, when he went forward, cap in hand, to
+greet the ladies.
+
+Miss Charlotte, Miss Emily, Miss Brabourne, and Mr. Cranmer were in the
+wagonette, and it was at once remarked, that, though sad, they did not
+seem to be in despair. All three ladies were in black, and the Misses
+Willoughby greeted Mr. Percivale with particular politeness and
+distinction.
+
+As for him, he only saw "one face from out the thousands." She was
+there, her hands touched his, she walked beside him up the shingly path.
+Her eyes rested on his with trust and gratitude untold. It was enough.
+For the moment he felt as if he had won his guerdon. They disappeared
+within the school-house, and the crowd outside began loudly to speculate
+on the turn that things were taking. Presently up the road hurried
+Clapp, the landlord of the "Fountain Head," his wife on his arm, both in
+their Sunday best, and both in such a state of excitement as rendered
+them almost crazy. The neighbors gathered round to hear the startling
+news that Mrs. Clapp had been subpoenaed as a witness in the case,
+though what they had to do with it they were at a loss to know, unless
+it were connected with the loyal William's illegal refusal to take Mr.
+and Mrs. Orton in as his guests on the previous day.
+
+"I don't care if they d� gi' me a foine," cried he, stoutly. "A can
+affoard to pay it, mates, a deal better 'n I can affoard to tak' vermin
+into ma hoose!"
+
+A murmur of applause greeted this spirited speech, and William was plied
+right and left with questions. But he knew no more than they did, only,
+in some mysterious way, an idea gained ground amongst them that the
+strange owner of the white yacht had wrought a miracle, or something
+very like it, for the preservation of Miss Elaine.
+
+"What shall we d�, mates, if a brings her aout safe an' saound?" cried
+William. "Take aout the horses and drag 'im home, say I."
+
+"Get a couple o' hurdles an' chair 'em," suggested another eager spirit;
+and then the constable came to the door, and imperatively called Mr. and
+Mrs. Clapp; when they had vanished, the door was shut, and a breathless
+hush fell upon the crowd.
+
+Oh, the sunny silence in the old house with the terrace! Oh, the slow,
+slow motion of the hands of the clock as they crept round. Miss Ellen's
+couch lay out in the sunshine, her wan hands were clasped, her eyes
+fixed on the white road which descended from the school-house.
+
+The school was on the other side of the valley. The building itself was
+hidden by a thick clump of trees, but below, a long stretch of road was
+clearly visible, leading down past the lower extremity of the Edge
+Willoughby grounds. Here stood the smithy, and, just opposite that, the
+road widened out into a triangular space, used as a village lounge of an
+evening when the weather was fine. Every summer there was a school
+feast, and all the children were marched down this road on their way to
+Mr. Fowler's meadows where the feast was held; and it had been a custom,
+ever since Elaine was a little child, for the whole procession to halt
+when it came opposite the smithy, with waving banners and flying flags,
+and, facing the terrace, to sing a hymn for the edification of the pale
+invalid as she lay on her couch.
+
+To-day, thoughts of Elsa's childhood came thronging to Miss Ellen's
+mind. She saw her once more as she used to stand in her class, in her
+clean white frock and blue ribbons, with her hair waving all about her.
+
+Now, as Miss Ellen saw clearly, the past was utterly and completely the
+past--gone and done away with for ever. In future it would not be in any
+way possible to continue the life which had flowed on so evenly for
+nearly fifteen years. Already the sisters talked of change, of travel.
+Elsa must be taken away from the place where she had suffered so much.
+Change of scene must be resorted to; everything that could be done must
+be done to make her forget the horror of the last few days, and restore
+to her nervous system its usually placid tone.
+
+Little Miss Fanny, who had stayed at home to keep her sister company,
+was trotting nervously in and out of the open door, now snipping a few
+withered geraniums, now mixing the chough's food, and moving the
+cockatoo's cage further into the shade. Jackie himself careered up and
+down in the sunshine like a contented sort of Mephistopheles. He had
+been down to the duck-pond, and chased away all the ducks, which was one
+cause of deep satisfaction to him; over and above which, the cockatoo
+was caged and he was free, so that he was able to march up and down
+under the very nose of the captive bird, deriding him both by word and
+gesture.
+
+"My dear," said Miss Fanny, sitting down with a patient sigh, "how long
+it seems!"
+
+"Long? Yes!... Oh, Fanny, if anything should have gone wrong, if any
+unforeseen piece of evidence----"
+
+"My dear," said Miss Fanny again, in a confident manner, "any unforeseen
+bit of evidence will be a help to our case."
+
+"You really think so?"
+
+"Think so? Why, the matter admits of no doubt at all. It is plain--even
+the poor mother can't deny it; the boy himself admits it. He told Mr.
+Percivale where to look for the cudgel with which the blow was struck."
+
+"I should like to see Mrs. Orton's face. I wonder how she will take it,"
+murmured Miss Ellen.
+
+The clock struck.
+
+"How late it is!" she sighed.
+
+"Hark! What is that?" cried Miss Fanny. "What a strange sound! Don't you
+hear it?"
+
+"I hear something," answered the invalid, growing white, and grasping
+the sides of her couch with straining fingers.
+
+It was a hoarse deep roar, which for a moment they took to be the wind
+or the sea, till, as it was repeated, and again yet louder, they knew it
+for a sound which neither of them had ever heard before--the shouting of
+an excited multitude. There is perhaps nothing else in the world which
+so stirs the pulses, or sends the blood so wildly coursing in the veins.
+Neither sister spoke a word. They held their breath, strained their
+eyes, and waited, while the roar swept nearer, and swelled in volume,
+and at last resolved itself into a tremendous "Hip--hip--hip--hurrah!"
+
+Then, on the white stretch of road down the opposite hill, appeared a
+flying company of boys, madly waving caps in the air. These were but the
+forerunners of the great concourse behind. Edge Combe, albeit so
+apparently small, boasted a population of a thousand souls, and quite
+half of them were present that morning, besides a goodly sprinkling from
+Brent, Philmouth, and Stanton. On they came, moving forward like a huge,
+irregular wave, every hat waving, every throat yelling; and then there
+flashed into sight a dozen or so of stout fellows, who bore on their
+shoulders a young man, lifted high above the heads of the throng, a
+young man whose head was bare, and whose conspicuously fair head caught
+the light of every sunbeam.
+
+"Fanny! Fanny!" gasped Miss Ellen, in the midst of hysterical tears and
+laughter, "it is Mr. Percivale, they are chairing him. Who could have
+believed such a thing, in our quiet village! And, Fanny--see--there is
+the carriage--our carriage! There is Elsa--God bless the child! God
+bless her, poor darling!... They have taken out the horses; they are
+dragging them home in triumph. Look! the carriage is full of flowers;
+the women and girls are throwing them--they all know what she has
+suffered, they all sympathise, they all rejoice with us ... and that
+wonderful young man has done it all. How shall we ever repay him?"
+
+And now the crowd had come to the space opposite the smithy, and here
+their leader, none other than the redoubtable William Clapp, waved his
+arms frantically for a halt. The masses of hurrying people behind
+stopped suddenly; there was an expectant murmur, a pause of wonder as
+to what was now to happen. The whole thing was intensely dramatic; the
+slope of the steep hillside lined with eager faces, the carriage in the
+midst smothered in flowers, and in the foreground the figure of
+Percivale, held up in the arms of the village enthusiasts against a
+background of deep blue sky.
+
+"Three cheers for Miss Willoughby!" yelled William, so loudly that his
+voice carried back to the hindmost limits of the throng, and up to where
+Miss Willoughby was seated. The cheer that arose in answer was
+deafening, and Miss Ellen was so overcome that it was with difficulty
+she could respond by waving her handkerchief.
+
+Scarcely had the sounds died away, when out burst the bells in the
+church tower, the ringers having raced off to set them going as soon as
+ever the result was known. As if with one voice the crowd broke forth
+into "See the conquering hero comes;" and so, with stamping feet and
+shouting lungs, they wound their way up the hill in the sunshine towards
+the drive gates of Edge Willoughby.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXXIV.
+
+     Where people wish to attract, they should always be ignorant ... a
+     woman, especially, if she have the misfortune of knowing anything,
+     should conceal it as well as she can.
+
+     _Northanger Abbey._
+
+
+It was snowing--or rather, sleeting, in the half-hearted, fitful way to
+which Londoners are accustomed. Out of doors, the lamps flared on wet
+glistening pavements, with here and there a mass of rapidly thawing,
+congealed ice, which made walking unpleasant. It was pitch-dark, though
+not yet five o'clock, and the atmosphere was full of a raw cold, more
+penetrating than frost.
+
+In the suburb of Woodstead, the streets were swimming in slush, through
+which rolled the omnibuses, packed full inside, and thatched with
+soaking umbrellas under which cowered unlucky passengers who felt that
+they were taking cold every moment. Crowsley Road, the main
+thoroughfare, contained fine, solid houses, standing well back from the
+street--detached, for the most part, and having their own gardens.
+Mansfield Road was a turning out of Crowsley Road, and here the houses
+were small, semidetached, and unpretentious, though these, too, as is
+the fashion in Woodstead, had a strip of garden in front.
+
+In number seven, the blinds had not been drawn, nor the lamps lit,
+though it was so dark, and the outside prospect so uninviting. The fire
+was the only light in the little dining-room, and on the hearth-rug
+before it sat a girl, her arms round her knees, her eyes fixed on the
+glowing coals.
+
+The uncertain light of the flickering flames showed that the little room
+was furnished with several bits of handsome old oak, with a goodly
+supply of books, and with several oil-paintings, the quality of which
+could hardly be judged in the dark.
+
+On the floor by the fire lay a number of loose sheets of manuscript, a
+pen, and inkstand, so arranged that anyone suddenly entering the room
+must of necessity knock them down. Wynifred Allonby, however--for she it
+was who sat alone--took no heed of her surroundings. She was miles away,
+in a dream-world of her own.
+
+The expression of her face had changed since last summer. The
+independent, courageous, free look was gone. In its stead was a
+wistfulness, a certain restlessness, which, though it saddened, yet
+certainly infused a fresh interest. Apparently a struggle was going on
+in her mind, for her brows were drawn together, and at last, as she
+stared into the embers, she broke into a little laugh and spoke aloud.
+
+"My dear girl, if I could only persuade you what an idiot you are," said
+she. "Will nothing--absolutely nothing make you ashamed of yourself?
+Faugh! I am sick of you--you that were always so high and mighty, you
+that hated and abhorred love-sick maidens, nicely you are, served out,
+now ... a man that chance just flung into your society for a few weeks,
+a man above you in social standing--whose family would think it as great
+a comedown for him to marry you, as you would think it to marry the
+butcher!... I have no patience with you, really. Haven't you read your
+Clough? Don't you remember the _Amours de Voyage_? Yes, that was a
+Claud, too; and I think he must have been something like mine--like this
+one, I mean. 'Juxtaposition,' my good young woman, 'is much.' And what
+was it but juxtaposition? Oh, didn't I know it all the time--know that
+it couldn't last, that he was just masquerading for the time in a
+country romance, that he must needs go back to his world of Piccadilly
+and peeresses.... And yet, I had not the sense to----Oh, it is so hard,
+so very hard! That I should want him so, and have to confess it to
+myself, the hateful truth that I do want him and can't forget--while he
+has no need of me at all!..."
+
+Her face, no longer pale for the moment, dropped upon her hands, and she
+gave a little sound, between a laugh and a sob.
+
+"It is so many weeks ago, now--years, it seems. I thought I should have
+been quite cured by the time winter set in. What in the world drew me so
+to that one man, when I never felt so much as a passing fancy for other
+people--for poor Mr. Merritt, for instance. Why couldn't I marry him? He
+was rich, and I liked him too; so did Osmond and the girls; but somehow
+it wouldn't do. And yet, now.... I can bear it, mostly, only sometimes,
+in blindman's holiday, it comes over me. It is galling, it is
+frightfully humiliating. It ought to make me arise and thrash myself for
+being so unwomanly. I know for a fact that he doesn't want to see me in
+the least; for, if he had, he would have come ... and yet--yet--if he
+were to open that door, and stand there this moment, I should be, for
+the time, absolutely and entirely happy. Oh, what a fall, what a fall
+for me. I was so certain and so safe. And now, is this pain to go on
+always? Am I never to be able to fling my heart into my books as I used?
+Oh, surely, if I am firm enough, I _must_ be able to stop it. I will! I
+am determined I will!"
+
+A footfall, running up the front door steps, made her pause, and
+foolishly hold her breath; then she laughed contemptuously as a
+latch-key was thrust into the lock. There was a stamping and rubbing of
+boots on the mat in the hall, sounds of a mackintosh being removed, an
+umbrella thrust into the stand, and then Jacqueline walked in, her eyes
+like stars, her cheeks glowing with the stinging cold outside.
+
+"Are you there, Wyn?" she asked, peering into the twilight.
+
+"Yes. Mind the ink," said the authoress, heaving a sigh.
+
+"Why in the world don't you draw the curtains and light the lamp?" asked
+Jacqueline, coming forward, and unfastening the dark fur round her
+throat. "Why is there no tea ready? Where's Osmond? Isn't Hilda in yet?
+What have you been about, eh?"
+
+"Oh, I don't know," said Wyn, stretching, and picking herself and her
+writing materials up from the floor. "I was writing hard all the
+morning, and this afternoon was so horrid, I thought I wouldn't go out;
+so I have been moping rather. Osmond's out. Hilda won't be in for
+half-an-hour--it's not five yet."
+
+As she spoke, she drew the curtains, lit the lamp, and rang the bell for
+tea; then, drawing a low chair to the fire, sat down and looked at
+Jacqueline.
+
+That young lady had removed her out-door apparel, and was kneeling on
+the hearthrug, holding her hands to the blaze. The severe weather had
+brought a magnificent glow to her face, and she looked excessively
+pretty and elegant. Wyn watched her with elder-sisterly pride. There was
+something evidently well-bred about Jac; something in the brilliant
+eyes, the tempting smile, the tall slender figure which gave her a style
+of her own. It was not exactly dashing, but it was something peculiar to
+herself, which made her noticed wherever she went, the undeniable beauty
+of the academy schools, and the pride of her devoted family.
+
+Something had pleased her to-day. Wyn easily divined this, from the
+gleam in the big, laughing, hazel eyes, and the pleasant curves of the
+pretty mouth. But the eldest sister was too diplomatic to ask any
+questions. She knew that, when the slim hands were warmed, confidence
+would begin to flow, so she only sat still, and remarked casually.
+
+"Bad light down at the schools to-day, I should think."
+
+"Awful," was the candid reply. "I expect I shall have to paint out
+everything I have put in--such a pity! It looked most weird and
+Rembrandtesque in the rich pea-soupy atmosphere, but alas! to-morrow
+will reveal it in its true colors, dirty and opaque. Here comes tea. How
+nice! Bring it here, Sally, there's a dear."
+
+Sally obeyed. She was a middle-aged, kind, capable woman, who had been
+their nurse in old days, and their factotum ever since they were
+orphans.
+
+"Miss Jac," said she, in righteous wrath, "take off them wet boots this
+minute, you naughty girl. Nice colds you'd all 'ave, if I wasn't to look
+after you. There was Mr. Osmond painting away this morning with 'is
+skylight wide open, and the snow falling on 'is 'ed. Wants to kill
+himself, _I_ think."
+
+"Sally," said Jac, as she sat down on the floor, and rapidly unlaced the
+offending boots, "I've something very particular to say. What is there
+for dinner? Is there anything in the house?"
+
+"There's plenty of cold beef, and, as I know Miss 'Ilda don't fancy cold
+meat, I got some sausages."
+
+"Any pudding?"
+
+"Yes, miss."
+
+"Sausages and mashed potatoes are perhaps vulgar, but they're very
+nice," said Jacqueline, meditatively. "You might make some anchovy
+toast, Sal--and--couldn't we have some spinach?"
+
+"Who is coming?" asked Wyn, with interest.
+
+"Mr. Haldane. He is coming to finish that charcoal sketch of me so I
+told him he had better come to dinner," replied Jac, with airy
+nonchalance.
+
+"Oh, bless your 'eart, I've got plenty for 'im; he don't know what 'e's
+putting into his mouth most of the time," said Sally, picking up the wet
+boots, and retiring.
+
+"Only I do like to have things nice when he comes, because of course he
+is used to having things done in the proper way," remarked Jacqueline,
+with a stifled sigh. She was the only one of the four who felt their
+poverty in this kind of way.
+
+"I never see Mr. Haldane eat anything but chocolate," said Wyn with a
+laugh. "Perhaps he doesn't like our food."
+
+"Sally is a really good cook, that's my one comfort," returned Jac. "And
+now I have two pieces of news for you. The first is that he, Mr.
+Haldane, has got the gold medal."
+
+"No!" cried Wyn, in tremendous excitement. "You don't say so! How
+splendid! How we will all congratulate him! Tell me all about it--how
+many votes ahead was he?"
+
+Jacqueline launched into a mass of details, most eagerly appreciated by
+her listener.
+
+"How we will cheer him at the Distribution to-morrow!" she cried. "I
+always felt sure he would do it."
+
+"I don't think there was ever much doubt about it," was the answer, in a
+voice which Jac in vain strove to render perfectly tranquil. "He is very
+clever, isn't he?"
+
+"Clever and nice too," said Wynifred. "One of the very nicest men we
+know. And, now, what's the other piece of news?"
+
+"Oh--only that the Ortons are back in town. As I passed Sefton Lodge in
+the omnibus, it was all lighted up."
+
+"Oh--I wonder if there is any chance for poor old Osmond to get his
+money now?"
+
+"Don't know, I am sure; I would try, if I were he. Did you have a letter
+from Mr. Fowler this morning?"
+
+"Yes," answered Wyn, pulling it out of her pocket. "Very nice, as usual.
+Elsa is still abroad, with her aunts, but he is back at Lower House. It
+is very strange that Elsa doesn't write--I haven't heard from her for
+six weeks."
+
+"It is making poor old Osmond very anxious--he looks quite haggard,"
+said Jacqueline, resentfully. "I believe she is in love with this man
+the yacht belongs to."
+
+"Oh, don't say such a thing, Jac!" cried Wyn, in a quick voice of pain,
+"it will simply drive Osmond out of his mind if any such thing happens.
+Poor boy! Just see what he has been doing--how superbly he has been
+painting since he had this hope, and how his things are selling! How the
+papers reviewed his 'Valley of Avilion' in the Institute. Why, Mr. Mills
+said there was scarcely a doubt of his being R.I. next year. If Elsa
+fails him, I don't believe he will ever paint another stroke."
+
+Jacqueline stared at the fire.
+
+"You see," she said, "the circumstances under which she met this man
+were so very romantic--so remarkably unusual. And, then, he seems to be
+a wealthy, dazzling sort of person--with a yacht and a German _Schloss_,
+and other fancy fixings of the same kind. I don't see, if you come to
+consider it fairly, how poor Osmond can have a chance against a man who
+can follow her to the world's end."
+
+"Surely she's too young to be mercenary--girls of her age usually prefer
+the poor one!" cried Wyn, protestingly.
+
+"Mercenary? Oh, it's not exactly mercenary; but she is dazzled. Here is
+a mysterious hero, who flashes suddenly upon her with a large staff of
+retainers to do his behests, and a magic yacht which glides in and out
+regardless of wind and tide, and a face like a Viking of the Middle
+Ages, if that picture of him in the _Graphic_ is to be relied upon. He
+is a sort of Ragnar Lodbrog. If she declined his addresses, he would
+most probably set sail alone in his yacht, set fire to it, and be found
+by some Channel steamer in the act of burning himself to death, and
+shouting a battle-cry while the leaping flames encircled him. Now, poor
+Osmond can't compete with this sort of thing; he has no accessories of
+any kind to help him along."
+
+"Jac, you are very ridiculous," said Wyn, unable to help laughing a
+little; but her laugh was not very hearty.
+
+"We shall soon see when she comes to London," said Jacqueline,
+flourishing the poker.
+
+"If she comes to see us! I don't see why she should. Lady Mabel
+Wynch-Fr�re and her brother have dropped us completely," said Wyn, with
+some bitterness. "The Valley of Avilion was one thing, London is
+another."
+
+"I'm sure we don't want them," said Jacqueline, indifferently. "From
+your account, Lady Mabel was not the kind of person I should take to at
+all."
+
+"She was excessively artificial, but not altogether uninteresting,"
+observed Wyn, in her trenchant way. "They were both very kind to Osmond,
+but that was their humanity, you know--they would have done the same for
+any village yokel. Like Lady Geraldine,
+
+    '"She is too kind to be cruel, and too haughty not to pardon,
+    Such a man as I--'twere something to be level to her hate!"'
+
+Jacqueline began to laugh.
+
+"She is like Aunt Anna," she said.
+
+Aunt Anna was the wife of a dean, and she never dared to invite any of
+her London-weary nieces to stay with her, lest they should unwittingly
+reveal to any of her titled friends the ghastly fact that they had to
+work for their living. Of this secret the said nieces were perfectly
+aware, and derived much amusement therefrom.
+
+"Oh, I daresay she has never thought of us from that day to this," said
+Wyn, carelessly. "There's Hilda knocking. Let her in."
+
+Hilda walked in like a duchess. Nature certainly had not intended the
+Miss Allonbys for daily governesses, and many a time had poor Hilda been
+doomed to hear the condemning words, "I am afraid, Miss Allonby, you are
+of too striking an appearance," from some anxious mother, who felt that
+life would be a burden when weighted with a governess so dignified that
+to suggest that she should take Kitty to the dentist's, or Jack to have
+his boots tried on, would seem a flagrant insult.
+
+"If they only knew how meek and mild I am really!" the poor child would
+remark, dolorously. "If I could but make myself three inches shorter, or
+pad myself out round the waist till I was no shape at all! But it would
+be so dreadfully hot. And I really _can't_ wear unbecoming
+hats--something in me revolts against the idea!"
+
+To-night she had a letter in hand, which she dropped into Wyn's lap.
+
+"I met the postman," she said, explanatorily. "Open it, do--it feels
+stiff, I believe it's an invitation."
+
+Wyn opened it, drew out a square card with gilt edges, and read.
+
+    MISS ALLONBY, MISS H. ALLONBY, MISS J. ALLONBY,
+    MR. ALLONBY.
+
+                  MRS. MILES AT HOME.
+
+                  Tuesday, Jan. 5th.
+
+                    Dancing 8.30,
+                    _R. S. V. P._
+
+           INNISFALLE, THE AVENUE.
+
+"A ball at the Miles'! Oh, Wyn, how splendid!" cried Jacqueline in
+ecstasies.
+
+"Every creature we know will be there," said Hilda.
+
+"Oh, Hilda, how glad I am we had those dresses made," said Jacqueline,
+jumping up and careering round the table in the excess of her spirits.
+
+"How nice of them to ask us all three by name," said Hilda, gloating
+over the card. "They know we never go out more than two at a time unless
+specially invited."
+
+"It's a good long invitation," said Wyn.
+
+"Wyn!" cried Jac, suddenly stopping before her and shaking her fist in
+her face, "Wynifred Allonby, what have you got to wear?"
+
+"Nothing," said Wyn, helplessly. "I don't think I shall go--you two are
+the ones that do us credit. You can go in your pretty new gowns."
+
+"I hope you understand," said Hilda, with decision, "that not one of us
+sets foot in that glorious studio, with a parquet floor, and most
+probably Willoughby's band, unless you are forthcoming _in an entirely
+new rig-out_! Do you hear me? If I have to drag you to Oxford Street
+myself, you must and shall be decent! You have disgraced your family
+long enough in that old black rag, or in something made of tenpenny
+muslin! A new dress you shall have--silk it must be--thick, good silk,
+thick enough to stand by itself! Now, do, there's a darling!"
+
+"I don't think----" began Wyn.
+
+"Oh, yes, I know what you are doing," said Hilda, calmly, "paying for
+the housekeeping out of your own money, so that Osmond may save up; but
+I am going to put a stop to that; and you have heaps of money in the
+savings bank. Don't be miserly, it is so hateful."
+
+Wyn looked somewhat confused by these terrible charges.
+
+"Well," admitted she, hesitatingly, "I don't mind telling you two, that
+I had a cheque this morning from Carter" (her publisher). "It was not a
+very big one--only the royalty on about fifty copies of 'Cicely
+Montfort.' But I could buy a really good gown with it. Do you think I
+might?"
+
+"Might? I say you ought; it's your duty," cried Jac, vehemently.
+"Everyone at Innisfallen will know you--every soul knows you are an
+authoress. You ought to do us credit--you shall. I'll have no nonsense
+about it."
+
+"I don't see why I shouldn't," burst out Wyn, suddenly. "I will be
+welldressed for once in my life. I will enjoy myself as much as ever I
+can. Girls, my mind is made up. I will have a really good gown, as good
+as can be got; and it shall fit me well, and the skirt shall hang
+properly. For this once I'll have my fling; I'll go to Innisfallen and
+eclipse you both."
+
+Here Sally walked in to fetch out the tea-things, and swooped on Hilda's
+boots as she had done on Jacqueline's. After which, retiring to cook
+the sausages, she set open the door at the head of the kitchen stairs,
+that she might hear Osmond's latch-key, and, descending on him like the
+wolf on the fold, rob him of his understandings if ever he came to the
+shelter of his studio.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXXV.
+
+    Juxtaposition, in fine; and what is juxtaposition?
+    Look you, we travel along, in the railway-carriage or steamer,
+    And _pour passer le temps_, till the tedious journey be ended,
+    Lay aside paper or book to talk with the girl that is next one;
+    And, _pour passer le temps_, with the terminus all but in prospect,
+    Talk of eternal ties and marriages made in heaven.
+
+    _Amours de Voyage._
+
+
+"Sally, Sally, what are you doing? For pity's sake come here and lace
+me! I shall never be ready. What a time you are with Wyn!"
+
+Jacqueline, in all the daintiness of white embroidered petticoat,
+satin-smooth shoulders, and deftly-arranged hair with a spray of lilies
+of the valley somewhere among its coils, hung over the balustrade in an
+agony of impatience.
+
+"Wyn, Wyn, what are you keeping Sal for? She has been twenty minutes
+over your bodice."
+
+A voice of agony from below responded.
+
+"Tag has come off my lace."
+
+"Oh!" A pause of consternation; then, encouragingly, "try a hair-pin."
+
+"It's all right now. I have actually found my bodkin. I shan't be five
+minutes."
+
+"Five minutes! My dear child, _Osmond has actually gone for the cab_!"
+cried Jac, in tones tragic enough to suit the most lamentable occasion.
+
+"Jac, come here, and don't make such a fuss," said the calm voice of
+Hilda, as she emerged from her room, ready down to the minutest detail,
+fan, gloves, and wrap over her arm.
+
+With a scream of joy at such unlooked-for relief, Jac darted into her
+room again, and her slender form was soon encased by her sister's deft
+fingers in its neatly-fitting fresh and captivating bodice.
+
+"What a wonder _your_ tags are not both off! They generally are," was
+Hilda's withering comment, as she performed her task.
+
+"Yes, it is a wonder, isn't it?" returned Jacqueline, complacently. "Oh,
+there you are, Sal. I'm ready now, so you can go back to your beloved
+Wyn."
+
+"You can't think 'ow nice Miss Wyn looks to-night," observed Sally, as
+she busied herself in collecting some of the scattered articles of
+wearing apparel which strewed the floor of Jacqueline's small chamber.
+
+"I am so glad. I thought that dress would become her," said Hilda, in a
+pleased voice. "Oh, Jac, stand still, my beloved, one moment: there is
+Osmond back again."
+
+"Very good; I am ready. Sally, where are my gloves? And my bracelet, and
+my fan, and my small brooch, and--oh, dear! Run and tell Wyn she must
+lend me a lace handkerchief and some elastic for my shoes. Do hurry,
+Sally, please, I quite forgot the elastic. Why didn't you remind me,
+Hilda? Oh, did you get it for me? You darling, what a blessing you are!
+There have I got everything? Oh, Sally, do I look as nice as Hilda?"
+
+"You ain't so neat," observed Sally, with grim humor; "but neither of
+you looks bad, though I don't want to make you conceited."
+
+"Are you girls coming?" shouted Osmond.
+
+"Oh, yes; wait just a second, my dear boy. _Is_ my front hair right,
+Hilda? Yours does go so beautifully to-night. You don't look like a
+governess, somehow." She threw a daring, tempting glance and laugh over
+her shoulder at the brilliant reflection in the mirror. "I wonder if I
+do," she said.
+
+At the foot of the stairs stood Wyn, in her new white silk, with a
+little crescent of diamonds, which had belonged to their mother, in her
+hair.
+
+"My dear girls, I am at peace," she remarked, gravely. "I stand at last
+inside a gown which _hangs_ to perfection!"
+
+"Oh, isn't it nice?" said Jac, with a deep sigh of longing. "Really,
+Wyn, you do look well; you pay for dressing. Why don't you give more
+attention to your clothes?"
+
+"There's Osmond fidgetting downstairs, run!" cried Hilda, and the three
+flew off, pursued by Sally's warning cries.
+
+"Miss Jac, Miss Jac, don't let that fresh skirt sweep the stair carpets!
+Miss 'Ilda, cover your 'ead over, you've got a cold, you know you 'ave!
+Miss Wyn, see that Mr. Osmond crosses his comforter over his chest,
+there's a dear!"
+
+"Innisfallen. The Avenue," said Osmond to the cabman; and the four were
+really off at last.
+
+"For how many dances are you engaged, Jac?" asked the brother,
+teazingly.
+
+"Little boys," was the frigid rejoinder, "should ask no questions, and
+then they would hear no stories;" after which, silence reigned in the
+fourwheeler.
+
+Every Londoner knows, or has heard of, the celebrated house of Mr.
+Miles, R.A. It is one of the show-houses of London, and views of its
+interior appear from time to time in the art magazines, with an
+accompanying article full of praise for and wonder at the wealth and
+taste which devised such an abode. With our nineteenth-century habit of
+writing biographies in the life-time of their subject, of forming
+societies to interpret the work of living poets, and publishing
+pamphlets to explain the method of living painters, why not also extol
+the upholstery of living academicians? It is surely more satisfactory
+that people should admire your taste and wonder at your income in your
+lifetime than after you have gone the way of all flesh. Nowadays one is
+nothing if not in print. What! Furnish at untold cost; have your carpets
+imported from the East, and your wall papers specially designed, merely
+that these facts should go about as a tradition, a varying statement
+bandied from mouth to mouth and credited at will?
+
+The age is sceptical; it will not believe what it hears, it will not
+even believe documents of more than a certain age--the Gospels, for
+instance. But it will believe anything which it sees printed in a
+society journal, or a fashionable magazine. If your name be blazoned
+there, it is equivalent to having it graven with an iron pen, and lead
+in rock forever; on which account Mr. Miles did not object in the least
+to the appearance of delicately-executed engravings representing "Hall,
+and portion of staircase at Innisfallen, residence of H. Miles, Esq.,
+R.A." "Interior of studio, looking west." "Drawing-room, and
+music-gallery, showing the great organ, &c., &c." He was wise in his
+generation, and thoroughly enjoyed the caressing and honors which
+accrued to him from this form of advertisement. Moreover, he was a
+kindly man, and much given to hospitality. Nothing pleased him better
+than to throw open his magnificent rooms to large assemblies of very
+various people on an occasion like the present.
+
+An interesting theme for observation was presented by the extraordinary
+variety of toilettes worn by the guests of both sexes.
+
+First there was the artistic section of the community, drawn from all
+classes of society. By an odd paradox, these were they whose costumes
+were the most aggressively inartistic of any. Dirt and slovenliness are
+neither of them picturesque, yet it would seem that this singular clique
+held that to cultivate both was the first duty of man. They seemed to be
+one and all anxious to impress upon the observer the fact that they had
+taken no trouble at all to prepare for this party. A few had washed
+their faces. None had gone to the length of arranging their hair.
+Another feature which all possessed in common was their inability to
+dance, though some of them tried. Perhaps their large boots and
+ill-fitting garments incapacitated them for the display of grace in
+motion. They leaped, shuffled and floundered, but they did not waltz.
+These were, of course, only the younger section. Nearly everyone of them
+had distinguished him or herself in their own particular line; which
+fact seems to argue that to give especial attention to one sort of
+observation is to destroy the faculty for observing anything else: a
+saddening theory, and one which makes one tremble for the value of
+Professor Huxley's judgment on all matters outside his own province. Be
+that as it may, the fact remains that this concourse of young people,
+who could all admire beauty, grace, and refinement in the canvasses of
+the old masters, yet were themselves so many living violations of every
+law of beauty, and kept their refinement strictly for internal use.
+
+The moneyed clique was also much _en �vidence_. These were blazing with
+diamonds as to the women, commonplace and vacant as to the men. The
+latter seemed, in fact, to still further illustrate the theory of the
+evil of giving too close an attention to one thing. They were only
+faintly interested in what was going forward; they had no conversation
+unless they met a kindred spirit, who was willing to discuss the state
+of affairs east of Temple Bar. Their wives were for the most part
+handsome, and were all over-dressed, but this extreme was not so painful
+as that of the artists, because these clothes were as a rule well-made
+and composed of beautiful materials.
+
+Then there was a large sprinkling of professional people--barristers,
+journalists, critics, _savants_, lady-doctors, strong-minded females,
+singers, reciters, actors. Also there were the great gems of the art
+world: academicians, who, having made their name, had promptly turned
+Philistine, with their wives and families, dressed like the rest of the
+world, built big houses, went into society, and painted pot-boilers;
+and, lastly, there was a fair sprinkling of the aristocracy: well-born
+people, not so handsome as the millionaires' wives, but with that subtle
+air of breeding which diamonds cannot give. All these were simply
+dressed, and unobtrusive in manner; and a stranger watching the Allonbys
+enter the room would have fearlessly classed them with these latter.
+
+They all four looked what the Germans call "born." A certain way of
+carrying their heads distinguished them, and as they followed the
+announcement of their names, and shook hands with their hostess, more
+than one eager voice assailed the young men of the house with clamors
+for an introduction.
+
+Mr. and Mrs. Miles were fond of the four orphans. They had known them
+for years, and watched with kindly interest the development of their
+fortunes. Wynifred's success had made her quite a small celebrity in the
+neighborhood, and she owed many introductions to the benevolent zeal of
+the academician's plain, homely wife.
+
+"My dear," said Mrs. Miles, in a whisper, "I don't know when I've seen
+you look so nice."
+
+This was a charming beginning. It raised Wynifred's spirits, which were
+already high. She had come that evening determined to enjoy herself. She
+intended to cast every remembrance of last summer to the winds. Claud
+Cranmer was to be forgotten--the one weakness in her life. She would
+wrench back her liberty by main force, and be free once more--free as on
+the hot June day when she had journeyed down to Devonshire, and found
+the slight trim figure waiting for her on the platform.
+
+She knew plenty of people here to-night--people who were only too ready
+and anxious for her notice. When Wynifred had been working at the
+Woodstead Art School, before her novels began to pay, it had been said
+of her that she might have had the whole studio at her feet had she so
+chosen. She was an influence--a power. She had not been two minutes in
+the room before her ball-programme began to fill rapidly--too rapidly.
+She was too experienced a dancer not to make a point of reserving
+several dances "for contingencies."
+
+"Don't introduce me to anyone else--please," she said to Arthur Miles,
+who was standing by her, inscribing his name on her card. "I shall have
+too many strangers on my hands, and I get so tired of strangers."
+
+"There's North, the dramatic author, imploring me to introduce him--he
+wants to dramatise 'Cicely Montfort.' How that book has taken! I hope
+you are reaping substantial benefits, Miss Allonby?"
+
+"Yes, pretty well, as times go, thank you," she answered, laughing a
+little as she remembered that her pretty gown had been earned by the
+industrious and popular "Cicely."
+
+"I don't think it's much use my talking to him," she went on. "I have as
+good as promised to help Mr. Hollis dramatize it for the Corinthian."
+
+"Then you and Mr. Hollis had better make haste, or North will have the
+start of you. He's the fastest writer I know, and I believe he has it
+already arranged in a prologue and three acts."
+
+"Yes, there must be a prologue--that is the drawback," said Wyn, slowly.
+"But," with a sudden bright look, "you are making me talk 'shop,' Mr.
+Miles!"
+
+"Am I? Very sorry. Here comes Dick Arden to take you off. I must go and
+find out if the beauty is here--she is fashionably late."
+
+"The beauty? Has Mr. Miles a new beauty on view to-night?"
+
+"I should just think he has, and no mistake about it this time. Have you
+not heard about her? She is a great heiress, and all London is to go mad
+over her. The _pater_ is doing her picture in oils for the R.A. He says
+she is simply the most beautiful creature he has ever seen. She is
+coming to-night, under the escort of Lady Somebody-or-other. Hallo!
+There are the Ortons!"
+
+"Where?" Wynifred turned her head swiftly. She knew them slightly, on
+account of the business relations between Osmond and Frederick. She
+watched with some interest as her brother, who was standing near the
+door, shook hands and entered into conversation with them. Ottilie was
+looking excessively handsome, in a black velvet dress, cut very low in
+the bodice, a profusion of jewels decorating her neck, arms, and head.
+She had grown somewhat thinner in the months she had lately spent
+abroad, but her color was as rich and vivid as ever. Wyn saw Osmond ask
+her to dance, and lead her away, and then Dick Arden, the pleasant
+looking young artist at her elbow, broke in with,
+
+"When your meditation is quite finished, Miss Allonby, I am longing for
+a turn."
+
+With a laughing apology she laid her hand on his arm, and followed him
+into the dancing-room.
+
+The drawing-room at Innisfallen adjoined the studio, separated by
+enormous sliding-doors, and voluminous curtains of amethyst velvet.
+To-night the doors were folded back, the curtains looped in masses of
+dusky light and shade, so that the guests standing in the drawing-room
+could see the couples as they circled round.
+
+Wyn began to enjoy herself. The floor was perfect, the band, as Hilda
+had prophesied, Willoughby's. She liked dancing, and she liked Dick
+Arden. Everyone knows that Woodstead is the suburb of London most famed
+for its dancing and its pretty girls. In Woodstead the dismal cry of "No
+dancing men!" is a thing unknown. On this particular night, the dancers
+were drawn from hundreds of neighborhoods, so that the waltzing was not
+so faultless as it was wont to be at the Town Hall; but Wyn knew whom to
+choose and whom to avoid, and her present partner left little to be
+desired.
+
+Who could be sentimentally afflicted, she cried in her heart, with a
+good floor, a good band, and a good partner? The vivid memory of the
+weeks at Edge Combe seemed paler than it had ever been before. After
+all, it had only been an episode, and it was in the past now. Every day
+it receded further back; it was dying out, fading, disappearing.
+
+The dancers flashed past. Osmond and Ottilie Orton, tall and commanding;
+Jacqueline and young Haldane, both talking as fast as they could, and
+laughing into each other's eyes; Hilda, quiet and queenly, with an
+adoring partner. It seemed a bright, hopeful world, a world full of
+people interested in other people. Was there no one in it who had a
+tender thought for her--for Wynifred? She did not want admiration, or
+fame, or notice, or favorable criticism. She was a woman, and she wanted
+love.
+
+But no! This would not do. The stream of her reflections would carry her
+the wrong way. Forward must she look--never back, on past weakness and
+shortcoming. The music ceased with a long-drawn chord of strings. The
+waltz was over.
+
+Wyn and her partner were at the lower end of the vast studio. As they
+turned to walk up the floor towards the archway, the girl caught sight
+of a head--a fair head thrown into relief against the dark background of
+the amethyst curtain. For a moment she felt sick, faint, and cold. Then
+she rallied, in a little burst of inward rage. What! Upset by a chance
+likeness?
+
+They moved on. A crowd of intervening people shut out that suggestive
+head from view. Wyn unfurled her crimson fan, and smiled at Dick Arden.
+
+"That _was_ delightful," he was saying, warmly. "Won't you give me
+another? Do say you will. An extra--anything--only do give me one more."
+
+The next instant she was face to face with Claud Cranmer.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXXVI.
+
+    "That fawn-skin-dappled hair of hers,
+            And the blue eye
+            Dear and dewy,
+    And that infantine fresh air of hers."
+
+    _A Pretty Woman._
+
+
+It was no fancy. There he stood, trim and fresh as ever, a small bunch
+of Neapolitan violets in his button-hole, his hands behind him, and
+wearing his usual expression of alert interest in what was passing
+around him. He was looking remarkably well, and a good deal tanned, so
+that the clearness of his blue-grey eyes showed more strongly than
+usual. His face was turned fully towards Wynifred, but he was not
+looking at her, but beyond, away down the room.
+
+That trifling fact saved her self-respect. Had his eyes been upon her,
+he must have seen something--some sudden flash of uncontrollable
+feeling, which would have told him what she would almost have died to
+prevent his knowing. But in the few moments given to her she was able
+partially to rally, to tear her eyes from his face, to turn to her
+partner, even to smile at what he was saying, and to make a reply which,
+if neither long nor brilliant, was at least not wide of the mark. Those
+two minutes seemed really two hours to her. First the sudden shock, then
+the recovery, so slow as it had seemed, the turning of her head an inch
+to the left, the set smile, the brief answer, and then they were in the
+doorway ... were, passing him by.... No human power could have made her
+lift her eyes to his as she passed; yet she saw him without
+looking--knew how close he was, felt her gown brush his foot, and heard
+his voice an instant later ejaculate,
+
+"Miss Allonby!"
+
+It had come. As she paused, turned her head, raised her gaze to his, she
+was more thankful than ever that she had even so brief a preparation;
+for the expression of Mr. Cranmer's face could not exactly be considered
+flattering. It was made up of several ingredients, but embarrassment was
+predominant. There was a slight added color in his cheeks--a hesitation
+in his manner. He was off guard, and could not immediately collect
+himself.
+
+A secret fury of indignation at her own folly helped to make Wynifred's
+smile most coldly sweet. As she held out her hand she slightly arched
+her eyebrows as though he were the last person she had expected to meet;
+as indeed he had been, not three minutes ago. He greeted her with some
+confusion, his eyes roamed over her dress, and never in all her life had
+she been so devoutly thankful that she was in this respect for once past
+criticism.
+
+Nothing gives a greater confidence than the consciousness of looking
+one's best. As the girl stood before Claud, she felt that to-night the
+advantage was hers. He had not thought it worth while to call in
+Mansfield Road; he should see that the Allonby family was by no means
+dependent on his chance favors.
+
+The usual tepid and stereotyped formalities were gone through.
+
+"How do you do, Miss Allonby? It is an unexpected pleasure to meet you
+here."
+
+"Really! I think it is I who ought to be surprised. I am always at Mrs.
+Miles' parties, and I never met you before."
+
+"No--it is my first visit. I hope you are all well? Is either of your
+sisters here?"
+
+"Yes, both; and my brother too. Are you alone?"
+
+"Oh, dear, no: Mab is here somewhere, and Miss Brabourne----"
+
+Here Dick Arden became restive.
+
+"Miss Wynifred!" he murmured, reproachfully, making an onward step.
+
+Wyn inclined her head with another small and civil smile, and made as
+though she would have passed on.
+
+"Miss Allonby--stay! Won't you give me a waltz?" cried Claud, hastily.
+
+"I have none till quite the end of the programme, and I am afraid you
+will have gone home by then," replied Wyn, airily, over her shoulder.
+
+Claud went forward, determinedly.
+
+"If you will give me one, I will stay for it," he said, with some
+energy.
+
+"Well, you shall have number nineteen; but mind you don't trouble to
+wait if it is not quite convenient."
+
+"Somebody else will be only too happy to step into your shoes, if you
+are not forthcoming," laughed Dick Arden. "Miss Wynifred--I hope that is
+not my promised dance you are giving away!"
+
+They were gone--the slim, white-robed girl and her partner had vanished
+among the parti-colored couples who paraded the room. Claud's' glance
+followed them with a fatal fascination. He saw them pass through a
+sidedoor into a shadowy conservatory, and then, with a start, roused
+himself to the consideration of what had passed. He had met Wynifred
+Allonby again. How very nice she looked in white. How nice she looked
+altogether. Was there not something different about her since the
+summer--an altered look in her face? Her eyes! He never noticed, at Edge
+Combe, what pretty eyes she had; but now----. He moved restlessly down
+towards the band. Why did they not strike up? This was only number four
+on the programme, and he had to exist, somehow, till the bitter end. He
+might as well dance, it would perhaps pass the time rather more quickly.
+
+Actuated by this idea, he started in pursuit of Elsa.
+
+Meanwhile, scarcely had Wynifred gained the shelter of the ante-room,
+when she turned to her partner abruptly.
+
+"We must hunt up Osmond before we do anything else," she cried,
+peremptorily. "I want to speak to him at once."
+
+Mr. Arden knew her too well to attempt to gainsay her. They hurried
+through the rooms till they reached the tearoom, where Mrs. Frederick
+Orton was seated in state while Osmond waited upon her.
+
+"Osmond, my dear boy," said Wyn, eagerly, going up to him, "I must just
+say five words to you. Come here--bend down your head--listen! Elsa
+Brabourne is here to-night. Yes," as he started violently, "she is, I
+know, for I have just seen Mr. Cranmer, and he told me. I thought I
+would warn you. Oh, my dear, don't be rash, I implore you! Think of her
+changed position, since we last saw her--think what a great heiress she
+is! She has the world at her feet. Don't look like that, dear, I don't
+want to hurt you--only to warn you. Be on your guard! Don't let her
+trample on you!"
+
+"Trample on me! She! You don't know her--you could never appreciate--you
+always misjudged her!" said the young man, resentfully, under his
+breath. "A more innocent, simple-minded creature I never saw than she!
+They cannot have spoilt her--yet!"
+
+He was quivering with eagerness.
+
+"Thanks for coming to tell me," he said, hurriedly. "I will go and find
+her. Never fear for me. I'm not a fool."
+
+"But, oh, my poor boy, I am not so sure of that," sighed the sister,
+secretly, as she left the room again with her partner.
+
+As she passed back through the drawing-room where the hostess was
+receiving her guests, her attention was attracted by the figure of a
+girl who was standing with her back to them, talking to Arthur Miles.
+
+Dick Arden turned suddenly to her.
+
+"Who is that?" he asked breathlessly.
+
+Only the back, straight and slender, was visible, its white silk bodice
+leaving bare a neck that would not have degraded the Venus de Medici. A
+small head, crowned with masses of rippled golden hair, was bent
+slightly to one side, showing a spray of lillies and a flash of
+diamonds. An enormous fan of snowy ostrich feathers formed a background
+to this faultless head.
+
+Dick and Wyn were both artists. Simultaneously they moved forward, to
+catch a full view of the face belonging to a back which promised so
+rarely.
+
+As they came towards her, the beauty turned in their direction, and a
+sigh of admiring wonder heaved Mr. Arden's breast as he gazed. It was
+Elsa.
+
+Wyn knew her in the same instant that she recognized her astonishing
+beauty.
+
+This was something far more wonderful than mere good looks. Regular
+features, a clear white skin, large eyes, good teeth, abundant hair--no
+doubt these are important factors in the structure of a woman, but Elsa
+possessed something far more subtle, more dangerous then any of these.
+
+The trouble, the horror through which she had passed had left something
+behind--an indefinable but real influence--a dash of sadness--a shadow,
+a suggestiveness, which gave to mouth and eyes a pathos calculated to
+drive the soberest of men out of his senses. Had she been brought up
+like other girls, among companions of her own age--gone to juvenile
+parties, stayed at fashionable watering places, attended a select
+boarding-school, she would, of course, have grown up handsome; nature
+had amply provided for that, but her beauty would have been robbed of
+what was its chief charm. As it was, she was not only lovely, but
+unique; and her superb physical health added a crowning touch to her
+dissimilarity from the pretty, delicate, more or less jaded and
+over-educated London girls who surrounded her.
+
+As her eyes met Wyn's, she started, and came forward, with that
+bewitching shyness which was one of her great points.
+
+"Oh, Wyn! Lady Mabel, here is Miss Allonby!"
+
+Lady Mabel Wynch-Fr�re turned quickly.
+
+"Why--so it is! I am charmed to meet you," she cried, with much
+_empressement_. "Of course, if I had only thought, Woodstead is your
+part of the world, is it not? What a charming part it seems! This house
+is lovely. I am so glad we came. Mr. Miles is painting Elsa's picture,
+you know. I think it will be a great success. And how is your work
+getting on?"
+
+"Pretty well, thank you."
+
+"I thought it must be! I have been, like everyone else, reading 'Cicely
+Montfort.' Is it true that it is to be dramatised?"
+
+"I believe so."
+
+"How proud you must be! it is so grand to feel that one has really done
+some good work, and swelled the list of useful women. You must come and
+see us as soon as you possibly can. Elsa is making a long stay with me.
+She is only just come back to England, you know. She has been cruising
+in the Mediterranean with two of her aunts, in Mr. Percivale's yacht;
+and my brother has been with them for about six weeks--ever since he
+returned from Scotland; he is here to-night, have you seen him?"
+
+"Yes, just to speak to. He said you and Miss Brabourne were here,"
+returned Wyn feeling greatly mollified to hear that, by all accounts,
+Claud had not been in London since they parted in the summer.
+
+"It has done the child so much good," said Lady Mabel, dropping her
+voice. "She is fast recovering, but she was desperately ill after--after
+that sad affair, you know. I daresay you wonder to see her at a ball so
+soon; but they dare not let her mope. The doctors said she must at all
+risks be kept happy and amused. The yachting was the saving of her, I do
+believe. It was Mr. Percivale's suggestion."
+
+"Is he here to-night?" Wyn could not resist asking.
+
+"Yes, somewhere. I do not see him just now, Mrs. Miles carried him off.
+Ah! here he comes, with that girl in the primrose gown; is it not one of
+your sisters?"
+
+"Yes,--Hilda," answered Wyn, with much interest. "Is that Mr. Percivale?
+What a fine head!"
+
+"Is it not?" said Lady Mabel, with enthusiasm. "You are an artist, you
+can appreciate it. Some people say he has red hair, and that his style
+is so _outr�_; for my part, I do like a man who dares to be unlike other
+men! He has a distinct style of his own, and he knows it. He declines to
+clip and trim himself down to the level of everybody else! but there is
+nothing obtrusive about him."
+
+This was true. As Percivale advanced, Wyn was constrained to admit that
+a more distinguished gentleman she had never beheld. His face fascinated
+her. It expressed so clearly the simple nobility of his soul. He came up
+to where Lady Mabel was standing, Hilda Allonby on his arm, and then a
+number of introductions took place.
+
+Suddenly, with impetuous footstep, a gentleman approached the group.
+Elsa turned her face, and one of her slow, beautiful smiles dawned over
+eyes and mouth as, with perfect self-possession, she stretched out her
+hand in greeting.
+
+It was Osmond; he was white as death, and so excited as to be unable to
+speak connectedly. He took the little white-gloved hand in his, and
+seemed at once to become oblivious of his surroundings. Wyn was obliged
+to remind him of his manners.
+
+"Osmond, here is Lady Mabel."
+
+Mr. Percivale, at the sound of the name, turned round suddenly, and for
+several seconds the two men remained looking one another in the face.
+
+They presented the somewhat unusual spectacle of a pair of rivals, both
+of whom were quite determined to fight fair. But Percivale's
+tranquillity was in strong contrast to Osmond's flushed and manifest
+disorder. To Wyn there was something cruel about it--the rich
+yacht-owner, the poor, struggling artist. It could never be an even
+contest.
+
+"We ought to be acquainted, Mr. Allonby," said Percivale, after a
+moment.
+
+"Indeed? I have not the honor----" began Osmond, struggling for an
+indifferent manner.
+
+"My name is Percivale," said the owner of the _Swan_. "Perhaps you may
+have heard it."
+
+Osmond bowed. In the presence of Elsa, it was not possible to allude to
+the events which had brought the yacht to Edge Combe.
+
+"I am glad to meet you, Mr. Percivale," he managed to say, with some
+stiffness. "Miss Brabourne, may I hope for the honor of a dance?"
+
+Again the girl smiled at him, accompanying the smile with a look half
+mischievous, half pleading, and wholly inviting, as if deprecating the
+formality of his address.
+
+"Yes, of course you may," she said, shyly. "Will you have this one?"
+
+"Will I! May I?"
+
+The rapturous monosyllables were all that he could command. Next instant
+he felt the light touch of that white glove on his coat-sleeve--he was
+walking away with her, out of reach of all observing eyes; he was
+floating in a Paradise of sudden, wild happiness. Of what was to come he
+recked nothing. The present was enough for him.
+
+"Elsa!" he gasped, as soon as he could speak, "I thought you had
+forgotten me!"
+
+"But I have not, you see."
+
+"But you have not! I might have known it. Where shall we go--what shall
+we do? Do not let us dance, let us sit down somewhere; I have a thousand
+things that I must say."
+
+But this suggestion was most displeasing to Miss Brabourne.
+
+"Oh, but, please, you must dance," said she, in disappointed tones. "I
+want to practise, as I shall have to dance so much, and it is such a
+good opportunity for you to teach me!"
+
+"To teach you! I expect I shall be the learner," cried Osmond; but in
+this he was mistaken.
+
+His divinity could not waltz at all. He instructed her for some time, a
+conviction darkly growing in his mind that she never would be able to
+master this subtle art. But what of that? Could he regret it, when she
+calmly said,
+
+"I should like to dance with you a great many times, please, if you
+don't mind. I feel as if I needed a great deal of teaching."
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXXVII.
+
+    "Oh, sir, she smiled, no doubt,
+    Whene'er I passed her; but who passed without
+    Much the same smile?"
+
+    _My Last Duchess._
+
+
+"Our dance, I believe. Miss Allonby."
+
+Wynifred, quietly seated by her partner, raised her eyes deliberately.
+
+"You, Mr. Cranmer? I thought you had gone some time ago."
+
+"Indeed? Am I in the habit of breaking my word?" asked Claud, stiffly.
+
+"Oh," said the girl, as she rose and took his arm, "to cut a dance is
+not considered breaking one's word in _le monde o� l'on s'ennuie_,
+especially when to keep it would be to make the horses stand in the
+cold!"
+
+"The horses are not standing now, so be easy on that score. I have not
+carried my heroism to that extent. Now, what made you say you thought I
+had gone?"
+
+"Lady Mabel has been gone some time."
+
+"Does that entail my going too? Had she not a gentleman in attendance?
+Are there no hansom cabs in London? Do you think I am tied to Mab's
+apron-strings?"
+
+"I have usually met you together."
+
+Claud made no answer. He was slightly piqued.
+
+How could he know that for these few minutes the girl on his arm had
+hungered and longed all the evening, that all other interests had seemed
+to be merged in the one question--Would he stay, or would he not? How
+could he know that for the moment she was tasting a happiness as brief
+and delusive, though more controlled, than poor Osmond's?
+
+Like most men, he only saw what she chose to show him--a disengaged
+manner, a sharp tongue, and her customary indifference.
+
+It exasperated him. What! When the sight of her had moved him so
+unusually, was she to treat him as any one of the crowd! What a fool he
+was, to waste a thought upon her! He was in a frame of mind approaching
+the vindictive. He would have liked to make her suffer; as she, poor
+child, was feeling every moment as if the strain were becoming too
+severe--as though her store of self-command were ebbing, and she must
+betray herself.
+
+They began to dance.
+
+It has been truly said that our very waltzes are melancholy, now-a-days.
+This was a conspicuously sad one. It seemed to steal into Wynifred's
+very soul. It was as though the burden of useless longing must weigh
+down her light feet and clog her easy motion. She could not speak, and
+for some minutes they waltzed in silence. At last--
+
+"I have not forgiven you for thinking I should fail to keep my
+appointment," said he.
+
+"You seem very much exercised on the subject," she laughed back. "I am
+sorry it entailed so much effort and self-denial."
+
+"You wilfully misinterpret, as Darcy said to Elizabeth Bennett."
+
+"You are not much like Darcy."
+
+"Now why?" said Claud, nettled for some unaccountable reason, "why am I
+not like Darcy? Your reasons, if you please."
+
+"Don't ask me to make personal remarks."
+
+"I insist upon it! I will not have my character darkly aspersed."
+
+"Well, you have brought it upon yourself. The difference is that,
+whereas Mr. Darcy seemed excessively haughty and unapproachable on first
+acquaintance, yet was, in his real self, most humble, unassuming, and
+ready to acknowledge himself in error; Mr. Cranmer, on the contrary,
+seems easy, debonair, and ready to fraternise with everyone; but on
+closer knowledge he is found to be exceedingly proud, exclusive,
+and--and--all that a peer's son should be. There! what do you not owe me
+for that delicate piece of flattery?"
+
+"What do I owe you? A deep and dire revenge, which I will take forthwith
+by drawing, not a contrast, but a likeness between you and Elizabeth
+Bennett. She was deeply attracted by the shallow, insincere, and
+fraudulent Wickham. She began by grossly underrating poor Darcy, and
+imputing to him the vilest of motives; she ended by overrating him as
+unjustly. In other words, her estimate of character was invariably
+incorrect. In this respect there is a striking resemblance between you."
+
+"I can almost forgive you your unexampled rudeness, on account of your
+knowing your 'Pride and Prejudice' so well," cried Wyn, in delight.
+"But, alas! what is a poor novelist to say in answer to such a crushing
+charge! I must retire from business at once, if I am no judge of
+character."
+
+"Oh, you are young, there is hope for you yet if you will but take
+advice."
+
+"Willingly! But it must be from one competent to advise!"
+
+"And who is to settle that?"
+
+"I, myself, of course!"
+
+"You have great confidence," said Claud, "in that judgment which, as I
+have just told you, is incurably faulty."
+
+"Pause a moment! One step further, and we shall have rushed headlong
+into a discussion on the right of private judgment, and, once begun, who
+knows where it would end?"
+
+"We have a way of trending on problematical subjects, have we not?" said
+Claud, with a gay laugh.
+
+He wondered at himself--his good humor was quite restored. Just a few
+minutes' unimportant chat with Wynifred, and he was charmed into his
+very best mood. She annoyed and fascinated at the same moment, she acted
+like a tonic, always stimulating, never cloying. What she might say next
+was never certain, and the uncertainty kept him always on the _qui
+vive_. He could imagine no pleasure more subtle.
+
+He began to understand his danger more completely than heretofore.
+To-night he realised that a continued acquaintance with Miss Allonby
+could have but one end. Was there yet time to save himself? Would he do
+so if he could?
+
+The glamor which her presence shed over his spirit showed itself by
+outward and visible signs, in the genial light of the grey eyes, the
+smiling curve of the mouth, in the whole expression of the pleasant
+face. In her society he was at his best, and he felt it. Everything was
+more enjoyable, life more vivid when she was there, she was the mental
+stimulus he needed.
+
+Yielding to this happy mood, which each shared alike, they sank into
+seats when the music ceased, scarcely noting that the dance was over.
+Suddenly, in the midst of his light talk, Claud broke off short,
+ejaculating in surprise,
+
+"By George, there's the tragedy queen!"
+
+Wyn, looking up, saw Mrs. Orton in the centre of the polished floor,
+gracefully bidding "good night" to her hostess.
+
+"I wonder--oh, I _wonder_ if she came across Percivale," said Claud,
+eyeing her intently. "I would give my best hat to see them meet! How she
+does hate him! I never saw a woman in a rage in my life really, until I
+saw Mrs. Frederick Orton at the inquest."
+
+"Ah, you were there! I wish," said Wyn, "that you would tell me all
+about it. I have heard so few details. All that I have heard was from
+Mr. Fowler. He is very kind, but not a clever writer of letters. I think
+he is unaccustomed to it."
+
+"Very probably. So he writes to you! I think," he looked keenly at her,
+"I never saw a more thoroughly first-rate fellow."
+
+"I go every length with you, as Jac would say. He is good. I think I
+rejoiced over Elsa's innocence as much for his sake as for anything."
+
+"Yes. He was splendid at the inquest. He and Percivale are a pair for
+never losing their tempers under any provocation. That woman
+contradicted him, insulted him, abused him, but he never let her get the
+better of him for a moment. What a curious thing human nature is! She
+had so nursed some sort of grudge against Miss Brabourne that it has
+grown into a blazing hatred, which is the ruling passion of her life. I
+honestly believe that to have proved the girl guilty of murder would
+have afforded her the keenest satisfaction. She was furious at being
+baulked of her revenge."
+
+"Oh! Such a thing is inhuman--incredible! If I put such a character into
+one of my books, people would call it unpardonably overdrawn," said Wyn,
+in horror.
+
+"I daresay; but it is true. Remember she was in a desperate frame of
+mind altogether. They were literally without money, and they came down
+there to find that the boy, from whom came their sole chance of funds,
+was dead. It seemed only fair that somebody should be made to suffer for
+Mrs. Orton's exceeding discomfort. That was all. But I believe she would
+do Percivale a bad turn, if she could."
+
+"Who _is_ Mr. Percivale?" asked Wyn.
+
+"That's just what nobody quite knows," said Claud, with a puzzled laugh.
+"All I know about him is that he is a gentleman in the word's truest
+sense. He is very reserved; never speaks of himself, and one can't
+exactly ask a man straight out who his father was. He is a good deal
+talked about in society, as you may guess, and the society journals
+manufacture a fresh lie about him, on an average, once a month. He
+evidently dislikes publicity, for he never races that beautiful yacht of
+his, or gives large donations to public institutions, or opens bazaars,
+or lays foundation-stones, or in any other way attracts attention to
+himself. That made it all the more generous of him to espouse Miss
+Brabourne's cause so frankly. He knew what it would bring upon him. You
+can't think how much he had to suffer from the idiots sent down to
+interview him, the letters imploring him for his photograph, the
+journalists trying to bribe his crew to tell what their captain
+withheld. He could not prevent surreptitious newspaper artists from
+making sketches of the _Swan_ as she lay at anchor; but his full anger
+blazed up when the _Pen and Pencil_ produced a page of heads--you saw
+it, of course--including portraits of him, Fowler, myself, the idiot
+Saul, poor Godfrey, and Miss Brabourne. Where they got them from is to
+this day a mystery. We suppose most of them must have been done at the
+inquest. Ah! that was an exciting day. I can feel the enthusiasm of it
+now. It was splendid to see that fine fellow held up in the arms of the
+fisher-lads, with the sunshine blazing on him, and the bells clashing
+out from the tower!--the sort of thing one sees only once in a lifetime.
+It sounded like a bit of an old romance. I often tell Percivale he is an
+anachronism."
+
+"He has a wonderful face; but it does strike one as strange that he
+should be so mysterious," said Wynifred. "Has he no family--no
+relations--no home?"
+
+"He has no near relations living--he told me that himself," answered
+Claud. "He also told me that his mother died when he was born, and his
+father two months before. He was brought up in a castle in Bavaria by an
+English clergyman who had known his parents. This man was a recluse, and
+a great scholar. He died some years ago. Percivale has had as little of
+ladies' society as if he had been a monk. Now you know exactly as much
+as I do of his antecedents, Miss Allonby."
+
+"I am afraid I seem very inquisitive; but to a writer of fiction there
+is a certain attraction about such an unusual history."
+
+"And such an unusual personality. He is unlike anyone else I ever knew.
+I wonder," said Claud, feeling in his pockets, "if I have a note from
+him that I could show you. Yes. Here, read that. It is not like most
+people's notes."
+
+Wynifred unfolded the stiff sheet of paper, and read. The hand was
+rather small and very peculiar. It seemed as though the writer were
+accustomed to write Greek. It was particularly clear.
+
+     "DEAR CRANMER,
+
+     "Please help me. The German Opera Company is in London, and Miss
+     Brabourne has often expressed a wish to hear some Wagner. If I take
+     a box, could you bring your sister, Lady Mabel Wynch-Fr�re, and
+     Miss Brabourne to fill it? If you think they would care to come,
+     let me know what night they are free. It is the "Meistersinger" on
+     Tuesday, and "Lohengrin" on Thursday. I wish you would answer this
+     personally, rather than in writing. Dinner this evening at 7.30, if
+     you care for the theatre afterwards. It is a week since we met.
+
+     "Affectionately yours,
+
+     "LEON PERCIVALE.
+
+     "7, St James' Place, Thursday."
+
+"Is there not something unique about that?" asked Claud, as she gave it
+back. "He always signs himself mine affectionately, in the most natural
+way possible. I am glad of it; I have a very sincere affection for him."
+
+"I like his note very much," said Wyn, with a smile. "Thank you for
+letting me see it. You and he are great friends."
+
+"I was with him seven or eight weeks on the _Swan_. He insisted on
+leaving England the moment he found that he had become a public
+character."
+
+"Is he English? His note reads like it."
+
+"I believe his father was English and his mother German; so I presume it
+was through her that he inherited his beautiful _Schloss_."
+
+"Have you seen it?"
+
+"Yes, I spent a week there. It is among the most northern spurs of the
+Tyrolese Alps. When there, you cease to wonder that Percivale is so
+unlike other people. It is like going back into a past age. The
+peasantry are Arcadian to a degree, the spot remote beyond the
+imagination of English people. The nearest railway station leaves you a
+day's journey from Schwannberg. Do you know Defregger's Tyrolese
+pictures? All the people are just like that. Over the door of every room
+in the castle is carved the swan, which is the family crest."
+
+"But his father was English, I think you said?"
+
+"Why--yes--I never thought of that. The arms must belong to the other
+side of the family, I suppose," said Claud, thoughtfully. "That is
+rather odd, certainly."
+
+He turned with a start. Osmond Allonby was standing before them.
+
+"Wyn, I'm sorry to interrupt you but we must really be going. We are
+almost the last."
+
+The girl rose at once, and held out her hand to Claud.
+
+"Good-night, Mr. Cranmer. I wish I had time to hear more about the
+inquest. I had been longing for news, and it is kind of you to have told
+me so much."
+
+He rose too, and took the offered hand.
+
+"Must you go?" he said, scarcely knowing that he said it.
+
+In another moment she had released her hand and was walking calmly away.
+Not a word had she said about hoping to see him again. He was conscious
+of an intense wish that she should not go; he was not strong enough, he
+found, to let her depart thus. He made a step forward.
+
+"Miss Allonby."
+
+She paused.
+
+"I shall be in town for some weeks now, probably. May I come and see you
+at Mansfield Road?"
+
+She turned to her brother.
+
+"We shall be pleased to see Mr. Cranmer, if he cares to come, shall we
+not, Osmond?"
+
+"Certainly," said Osmond, cordially.
+
+"Which day is most convenient for you?"
+
+"You will not find Osmond on Mondays or Thursdays, as he conducts a
+life-class at the Woodstead Art School on those days; any other day.
+Good-night."
+
+She was gone. He felt half-angry that she had so easily led him on to
+waste time in talking of indifferent topics. Yet, had she left him to
+choose a subject, what would his choice have been?
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXXVIII.
+
+    She should never have looked at me if she meant I should not love her!
+    There are plenty ... men, you call such, I suppose ... she may discover
+    All her soul too, if she pleases, and yet leave much as she found them:
+    But I'm not so, and she knew it when she fixed me, glancing round them.
+
+    _Cristina._
+
+
+A variety of reasons kept the Allonbys very silent as they drove home
+that night.
+
+When Mansfield Road was reached, they walked into the hall, still in the
+same silence. Osmond dismissed the cabman, followed them in, and made
+fast the bars and bolts for the night.
+
+"Good-night, old man," said Jac, coming up for a kiss.
+
+"Good-night, young woman," he replied, with the air of one who does not
+intend to be drawn into conversation.
+
+"Girls," said Hilda, over the stairs. "Sal has put a fire in my
+bed-room. Come along."
+
+Jac flew upstairs. Wyn lingered a moment.
+
+"Are you coming to bed, Osmond?" she said, anxiously, as she saw him
+unlock the door leading to the studio.
+
+"I think I'll have a pipe first," he answered, in a constrained voice.
+"Run to bed and don't bother."
+
+She hesitated a moment, but, seeing that interference would be useless,
+went on upstairs, and joined the _s�ance_ round Hilda's fire.
+
+"Well," said Hilda, with a long sigh, "it _was_ a delightful dance,
+wasn't it?"
+
+"The nicest I was ever at," returned Jac, with smiles dimpling round her
+mouth.
+
+Wyn did not echo these comments. She sat down with a sigh, and pulled
+off her gloves.
+
+"How well our lilies have lasted, Hilda," said Jac, spying at her own
+head in the glass. "Not a bit faded, are they? Wyn, you old wretch, you
+did look well. How everybody praised you up. I should think your head is
+turned."
+
+"Humph!" was Wyn's discontented reply.
+
+There was a pause, during which Jac secured Hilda's programme, and
+stealthily examined it.
+
+"Well!" said Wyn, suddenly. "Now you have seen Lady Mabel, what do you
+think of her."
+
+"She is exactly what I expected," observed Jac, who was possessed of
+considerable acumen. "That impulsive, frank manner is of great service
+to her. Nothing escapes her notice, I can tell you! She has decided not
+to take us up as a family. She does not feel quite sure as to what we
+might do. Vaguely she feels that Hilda and I are formidable, and poor
+Osmond, of course, is to be steadily discouraged. She will ask you, Wyn,
+because you are rather a celebrity just now; but nobody else."
+
+"Jac--I think you misjudge----"
+
+"All right. Wait a fortnight. If an invitation comes for Osmond, Hilda,
+or me, to Bruton Street, I will humbly apologise for my uncharitable
+judgment."
+
+"Jac is right," said Hilda, suddenly. "I spied Lady Mabel's eye upon me
+when I approached with Mr. Percivale!"
+
+"By the way, do you like Mr. Percivale?" asked Wyn.
+
+"I should think so!" was the emphatic answer.
+
+Wyn passed her hand wearily over her brow.
+
+"You look very tired, dear child," said Hilda, sympathetically.
+
+"I am worried--about Osmond," she sighed. "I would give so much if--all
+that--had never taken place between him and Elsa. One sees now how
+hopeless--how _insane_ the bare idea is; but I am afraid he doesn't
+think so, poor fellow!"
+
+"Lady Mabel was very off-hand with him," said Jac. "I was near when she
+was ready to go, and Elsa was dancing with Osmond. Do you know, she
+danced five times with him."
+
+"It was too bad of her!" cried Wyn.
+
+"If she does not mean to marry him, it certainly was," said Hilda.
+
+"Mean to marry him! They would not let her! I am thankful at least that
+there was no engagement," returned Wynifred, with energy. "That would
+just save his dignity, poor fellow, if one could restrain him, but I
+know he will rush like a moth to his candle, and get a fearful snub
+from Lady Mabel." She covered her face with her hands. "I can think of
+nothing else--I can't forget it," she said. "He will never get over it.
+He was never in love before in all his life."
+
+"Won't his pride help him? I would do anything--anything," said Hilda,
+with vehemence, "sooner than let her see I was heart-broken.... I
+suppose she will marry Mr. Percivale."
+
+"Or Mr. Cranmer," suggested Jac, in an off-hand way. "That is what Lady
+Mabel intends, I should think."
+
+Wynifred winced painfully. It seemed as though Osmond's case were thrust
+before her eyes as a warning of what she had to expect. It braced--it
+nerved her to the approaching struggle. She would never be sick of love;
+and she determined boldly to face the sleepless night which she knew
+awaited her--to work hard, go to parties, anything, everything which
+might serve as an antidote to the poison she had imbibed that fatal
+summer.
+
+When at last the girls separated for the night, Osmond was still in his
+studio. It was not till six o'clock had struck that Wyn's wakeful ears
+heard his footstep on the stairs, and the latch of his bed-room door
+close quietly.
+
+Jac's prophecy was fulfilled. A few days brought an invitation to
+Wynifred from Lady Mabel to meet a few friends at dinner in Bruton
+Street. No mention was made in the note of either Osmond or the girls.
+
+"I shall not go!" cried Wyn, fiercely.
+
+"Wyn, my dear child, listen to me," said Hilda, with authority. "You
+_must_ go. Beggars musn't be choosers. Look here what she says--'to meet
+several people who may be of use to you.' Oh, my dear child, you have
+published one successful novel, but your fortune is not made yet, is it?
+Think of poor old Osmond--think how important it is that we should all
+do the best we can for ourselves. In my opinion you ought to go. What do
+you say, Jac?"
+
+"I suppose you must; but I should like to let Lady Mabel know my opinion
+of her," said Jac, grudgingly.
+
+"Be just," urged Hilda. "Lady Mabel very likely thinks that to take us
+out of our sphere and to plant us in hers for a few hours would be to
+unfit us for our work. I believe she is right. What good would it do us
+to sit at her table and talk to men who would only tolerate us because
+we were her guests? Answer me that."
+
+Jac said nothing.
+
+"You see I am right," went on Hilda, triumphing. "She merely thinks, as
+Aunt Anna does, that we had better remain in our humble station; and it
+would be simple cruelty of her to invite Osmond under existing
+circumstances. It would be tantamount to giving him encouragement, would
+it not?"
+
+Osmond himself, somewhat to his sister's surprise, when he heard of the
+invitation, was most anxious that she should accept it. It seemed as if
+anything which brought the two families together, however indirectly,
+was pleasant to him. On the subject of himself and Elsa he, however,
+quite declined to talk; and this reserve of his was to Wyn a dangerous
+symptom. However, he was very quiet, and had not yet made the suggestion
+his sisters dreaded, namely, that one of them should go with him to call
+on Lady Mabel.
+
+Sometimes Wyn almost hoped that he had realised the futility of his
+desires, since Elsa would not be twenty-one till the following
+Christmas, and it was madness to suppose that Mr. Percivale would not
+press his suit before then. Sometimes she dreaded that, as we say of
+children, he was quiet because he was in mischief--in other words, that
+he was corresponding with Elsa, or otherwise intriguing; though this was
+not like Osmond.
+
+With surmises she was forced to rest content, however. The invitation to
+dinner was accepted, and then came wretched days of hesitation and
+cowardice--days when she endured continual fluctuations of feeling, at
+one moment feeling as though all her future hung on that dinner-party,
+at another that nothing should induce her to go when the time came.
+
+She had not, however, very much leisure for reflection just at this
+period. One of the monthly magazines wrote to ask a serial story from
+her on very short notice, and she was obliged to devote her attention to
+the expansion and completion of an unfinished fragment for which, before
+the appearance of "Cicely Montfort," she had tried to find a publisher
+in vain. On the third day after the Miles' ball, as she returned from a
+walk, she found Claud's card in the hall. After the first moment of keen
+disappointment, she was glad that she had not seen him.
+
+What use to feed a flame she was bent on smothering?
+
+She learned from Sal that the visitor had been into the studio and seen
+Mr. Osmond, and to the studio she accordingly bent her steps. Osmond was
+not working. He was seated on the edge of the "throne," his palette and
+brushes idle beside him, his face hidden in his hands. At the sound of
+the opening door, he leaped to his feet, and faced his sister half
+angrily.
+
+"You startled me," said he.
+
+"I am sorry. I hear you had a visitor to-day, so I came to know what he
+said."
+
+"Oh, yes--Cranmer. He didn't say very much. Asked after you all; said he
+hoped you were not very tired after the dance; said he was looking
+forward to seeing you at his sister's. Not much besides. He seems very
+thick with this Mr. Percivale."
+
+Turning aside, he aimlessly took up a dry brush and drew it across a
+finished canvas in slow sweeps.
+
+"Wyn," he asked, "who _is_ this Mr. Percivale?"
+
+Wyn made a gesture of ignorance with her hands.
+
+"I don't know," she said. "Nobody knows much about him. Mr. Cranmer told
+me all he knows the other evening." She related the meagre facts which
+Claud had given her. "But everyone seems agreed that he is very much all
+that can be wished," said she. "What made you ask me, dear?"
+
+"I have been talking to Ottilie Orton," he said; and paused.
+
+"To Mrs. Orton! And what had she to say, if one may ask?"
+
+"You appear," observed Osmond, "to have taken a dislike to the lady in
+question."
+
+"Well, I cannot say she fascinates me. She is so big and bold, and she
+looks artificial. She reminds me of that dreadful middle-aged Miss
+Walters who married the small, shy young curate of St. Mary's."
+
+"She is a very handsome woman," said Osmond obstinately.
+
+"Well, never mind her looks. What has she been saying to you?"
+
+"Oh, she merely remarked," was the reply, as Osmond picked up his
+palette and charged a clean brush with color. "She merely made a remark
+about this Mr. Percivale whom everyone is so ready to take for granted."
+
+"What was the remark?"
+
+"She said there were several ugly stories afloat about him, and that--"
+he paused to put a deliberate touch upon his almost completely finished
+picture--"that his antecedents were most questionable."
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXXIX.
+
+    Love is a virtue for heroes--as white as the snow on high hills,
+    And immortal, as every great soul is, that straggles, endures, and fulfils.
+
+    _Lord Walter's Wife._
+
+
+A long, dark, panelled room, with a low flat ceiling carved with
+coats-of-arms and traversed with fantastic ribs. A room so large and
+long that a small party could only inhabit one end of it. Its age was
+demonstrated by the massive stone mullions of the small windows ranged
+along the wall on one side. There were four of these windows, each of
+them with three lights. Beneath each group of three was a deep,
+cushioned recess.
+
+Opposite the windows were two fireplaces, the elaborately-carved black
+oak mantels reaching to the ceiling. In the further of these a great
+fire burned red and glowing, flinging out weird, suggestive half lights
+into the dim recesses of the chamber, and flecking with sudden gleams
+the multitude of curious things with which every corner was stored.
+
+The room was very still, the air heavy with the scent of flowers; the
+early January darkness had fallen over the great city, but something
+very unlike London was in the warm, fragrant silence of this place. One
+of the diamond-paned casements was open, but through it came no hoarse
+rumble of cart or waggon. An utter peace enfolded everything. Presently
+the door at the near and most densely dark end of the room opened and
+closed softly. From behind the great embossed screen which was folded
+round the entrance a flash of vivid light gleamed. A man-servant
+emerged, carrying a large silver lamp. He traversed the whole length of
+the room, and set down the lamp on a black oak table with heavy
+claw-feet.
+
+The circle of radiance illuminated the scene, rendering visible the
+mellow oil-paintings on the panelled walls, the rich Oriental rugs which
+covered the floor of inlaid wood, and the treasures from all parts of
+the globe, which were ranged in cabinets or on shelves, or lay about on
+brackets and tables. A grand piano stood open not far from the fire, and
+beyond the groups of windows, in the corner, a curtain looped back over
+a small arched entrance looked darkly mysterious, till the servant
+carried in two small lamps and set them down, revealing a fine
+conservatory, and accounting for the garden-like fragrance of the place.
+
+Silently the man moved to and fro arranging various lights, daintily
+shaded according to the present fashion; then, stepping to the windows,
+he closed them, and noiselessly let fall wide curtains of Titian-like
+brocades shot with golden threads.
+
+This accomplished, the general aspect of the lighted end of the room was
+that of sumptuous elegance, warmth, and comfort; while the shadows
+slowly deepening, as you gazed down towards the door, left the dark
+limits indefinite, and conveyed an idea of mysterious distance and
+gloom.
+
+Just as the servant's arrangements were completed, a bell sounded, and
+he hastily left the room as he had entered it, leaving once more silence
+behind him. So still was it that, when the shrill notes of the dainty
+sunflower clock on the Louis Quatorze escritoire rang out the hour in
+musical chimes, it seemed to startle the Dying Gladiator as his white
+marble limbs drooped in the rosy radiance of the big standard lamp.
+
+Again that door opened, away there among the shadows; and slowly up the
+room, in evening dress, with his crush hat, and his inevitable
+Neapolitan violets, came Claud Cranmer, looking about him, as if he
+expected to see the master of this romance-like domain. Percivale was
+not there, however; so, with a sigh of pleasure, Claud sank down in one
+of the chairs set invitingly near the wide hearth, and leaned back
+contentedly.
+
+Apparently, however, solitude and firelight suggested serious thoughts,
+for gradually a far-off look came into the young man's eyes--a tender
+light which seemed to show that the object of his meditations was some
+person or thing lying very near his heart. Presently he leaned forward,
+joining his hands and resting his chin upon them; and was so completely
+absorbed that he did not hear Percivale, who, advancing through the
+conservatory, paused on the threshold, gazing at his visitor with a
+smile.
+
+Reaching out for a spike of geranium bloom, he threw it with such exact
+aim that it struck Claud on the face, startling him so that he sprang
+instantly to his feet, and, facing about, caught sight of the laughing
+face of his assailant.
+
+"Good shot," said Percivale, coming in. "Sorry to keep you waiting, old
+man."
+
+His hands were full of lilies of the valley, which he laid down on a
+small table, and then saluted his guest.
+
+"You told me to come early," said Claud.
+
+"Yes," was the answer. "I wanted to have a talk with you before the
+ladies arrived."
+
+"Delighted. What do you want to talk about?" asked Mr. Cranmer, as the
+two young men settled themselves in comfort.
+
+"It is a subject I have never touched upon before," said Percivale,
+hesitatingly. "Not to you or any man. I hardly know why I should expect
+that you should listen. I have no claim on your attention. I want to
+talk about--myself."
+
+"Yourself?" Claud set up with keenly awakened interest.
+
+"Myself. It is not an interesting topic...."
+
+Breaking off, he leaned forward, supporting his chin on his left hand as
+he stared at the fire. Little flames sprang up from the red mass, cast
+flickering lights on his serious face, and glowed in his dark blue eyes.
+Claud thought he had never seen so interesting a man in his life.
+Whether on board the _Swan_, in his white shirt and crimson sash, or
+here in these quaint London rooms of his, in modern Philistine
+dress-clothes, he seemed equally at home, yet equally distinguished.
+
+Mr. Cranmer waited for what he would say--he would not break in upon his
+meditations.
+
+"Have you ever," slowly he spoke at last, "have you ever given your
+really serious attention to the subject of marriage? I mean, in the
+abstract?"
+
+Claud started, tossed his head combatively, while an eager light broke
+over his face.
+
+"Yes, I have," he replied, quickly. "I have considered very few things
+in my life, but this I have seriously thought over."
+
+"I am glad," said Percivale, simply. "I want to know how you regard it.
+What place ought marriage to take in a man's life? Is it an episode?
+Ought it to be left to chance? Or is it a thing to be deliberately
+striven and planned for as the completion of one's existence? Is
+happiness possible for an unmarried man?--I mean, of course, happiness
+in its deepest and fullest sense? Can a man whose experience of life is
+partial and imperfect, as a single man's must be--can he be said to be a
+judge at all, not having tried it in its most important aspect? What do
+you think?"
+
+"I do wish," said Claud, in an irritable voice, "that you would not put
+your question in that way. I wish you would not follow the example of
+people who talk of marriage in such an absurdly generic way, as if it
+were a fixed state, a thing in which the symptoms must be the same in
+every case, like measles or scarlet fever. I have always thought the
+subject of marriage left remarkably little room for generalising. One
+marriage is no more like another than one man is like another. The Jones
+marriage differs essentially from the Smith, because they are the Jones,
+and the Smiths are the Smiths. Yet people will be absurd enough to argue
+that because Jones is unhappy Smith had better not try matrimony. If he
+were going to marry the same woman there might be a show of reason in
+such an argument; but even then it wouldn't follow, because he is not
+the same man."
+
+Percivale's eyes were fixed on the speaker.
+
+"I see," he said, reflectively. "Your view is that the individual side
+of our nature is the side which determines the success or failure of
+marriage."
+
+"Certainly--especially in this age of detail. In the Middle Ages, when
+life was shorter, people took broader views; and, besides, they had no
+nerves. Any woman who was young and anything short of repulsive as to
+her appearance would suit your feudal baron, who would perhaps only
+enjoy her society for a few weeks in the intervals of following the duke
+to the wars, or despoiling his neighbor's frontier. When they did meet,
+it was among a host of servants, men-at-arms, poor relations, minstrels
+and retainers; they had no scope for boring each other. A man's value
+was enhanced in his wife's eyes when it was always an open question, as
+she bade him adieu, whether they ever met again in this world.
+Moreover, in those days the protection of a husband was absolutely
+necessary to a woman. Left a widow, she became, if poor, a prey for the
+vicious--if rich, for the designing. Eccentricities of temper must have
+been kept wonderfully in the background, when issues like these were
+almost always at stake; the broad sympathies of humanity are, generally
+speaking, the same. Any woman and man will be in unison on a question of
+life or death; but now-a-days how different! Maid, wife, or widow can
+inhabit a flat in South Kensington without any need of a male protector
+to "act the husband's coat and hat set up to drive the world-crows off
+from pecking in her garden"--which Romney Leigh conceived to be one,
+though the lowest, of a husband's duties. And your choice of a woman
+becomes narrowed when one cannot live in London, another will not
+emigrate, a third differs from you in politics, a fourth disdains all
+social duties, a fifth can only sit under a particular preacher, and yet
+another dare not be out of reach of her family doctor. Times are
+changed, sir. Marriage to-day depends on the individual."
+
+"Of course it must, to a large extent; and, to meet the requirements of
+the age, women are now allowed to marry where they fancy, and not where
+they are commanded. Yet, as one looks around at the marriages one
+knows," continued Percivale, "there is a sameness about matrimony."
+
+"Just so," broke in Claud, eagerly. "Because, as we look round, we see
+only the outside life. There is a sameness about the houses in London
+streets; but strip away the wall, and what a difference you will find in
+each! I will find you points of likeness between Rome and Manchester.
+Both are cities, both have houses, streets, shops, churches, passers-by,
+palaces, hovels. So with Jones and Smith. Both are married, both have
+servants, children, houses, bills, all the usual attributes of marriage.
+Yet you might bet with certainty that the general atmosphere of Jones'
+life is no more like Smith's than the air of Rome resembles the air of
+Manchester. It makes me quite angry," went on the young man, with heat,
+"to hear fools say with a smile of some young bridegroom, 'He thinks his
+marriage is going to turn out a different affair from anyone else's.' If
+he does think so, he is perfectly right. It _will_ be different. He
+will have an experience all his own; but it will give him no right at
+all to generalize afterwards on the advantages or disadvantages of
+marriage in the abstract--there is no such thing as marriage in the
+abstract!"
+
+"You take it to heart," said Percivale, smiling at his earnestness.
+
+"I do. Such balderdash is talked now-a-days about it. As if you could
+make a code of regulations to suit everyone--the infinitely varying
+temperaments of nineteenth-century English people!"
+
+"Yet we find one code of laws, broadly speaking, enough to govern all
+these infinite varieties."
+
+"Precisely! Their outer lives. But happiness in marriage does seem to me
+to be such a purely esoteric thing. 'It's folly,' says some one, 'to
+marry on a small income.' I hold that no one has the least right to lay
+down any such thing as a general proposition. It may be the height of
+folly--it may be the most sensible thing in the world. Nobody can
+pronounce, unless they know both the parties who contemplate the step.
+It seems to me that, granted only the right man and woman come together,
+the spring of happiness is from within. I can believe in an ideal
+marriage--I can fancy starvation with one woman preferable to a stalled
+ox with any other; but it must be one woman"--again that most unwonted
+softness in his eyes--"a woman who shall never disappoint me, though she
+might sometimes vex me; who shall be as faulty as she pleases, but never
+base; and then--then--'I'll give up my heart to my lady's keeping,'
+indeed, and the stars shall fall and the angels be weeping ere I cease
+to love her:--a woman, mind you, an imperfect, one-sided, human thing
+like myself!--no abstraction, but just what I wanted to complete me--the
+rest of me, as it were, placed by God in the world, for me to seek out
+and find."
+
+There was a complete silence in the room after this outburst. Claud,
+half-ashamed of his spontaneous Irish burst of sentiment, stared into
+the fire assiduously. Percivale's hand was over his eyes. At last he
+said,
+
+"You and I think much alike; and yet----"
+
+"Yet?"
+
+"You want to bring your love out into the broad daylight of common life;
+you want to yoke her with yourself, to bear half the burden. For me, I
+think I would place mine above--I would stand always between her and the
+daily fret--she should be to me what Beatrice was to Dante: the vision
+of all perfection."
+
+"You must not marry her, then," said Claud, bluntly.
+
+"Not marry her?"
+
+"No woman living would stand such a test. Think what marriage means!
+Daily life together. Your Beatrice would be obliged to come down from
+her pedestal. Not even your wealth could shield her from some thorns and
+briars; and then, when you found a mere woman with a little temper of
+her own instead of a goddess, you would be disillusioned."
+
+After another pause--
+
+"I don't agree with you," said Percivale. "I would make life such a
+paradise for the woman I loved that she should lead an ideal life--my
+experience will be, as you say, solitary. Perhaps other men's marriages
+will never be as mine shall. I speak with confidence, you see;
+because"--he rose, and stood against the mantel-piece, his head resting
+on his hand--"because I have seen the realization of my fancy. It is a
+real woman I worship, and no dream."
+
+Claud raised his eyes, earnestly regarding the fine, enthusiastic face.
+
+"The lady in question is greatly to be envied on most grounds," he said.
+"I only trust she will be able to act up to the standard of your
+requirements."
+
+"My requirements? What do I require of her? Only her love! She shall
+have no trials, no vexations, no more loneliness, no more neglect--if
+only she will let me, I will make her happy!----"
+
+"In point of fact," said Claud very seriously, "you ask of her just what
+God asks of men--an undivided allegiance, a perfect faith in the wisdom
+of your motives, and a resignation of herself into your hands. You ask
+no positive virtues in her--only that she shall love you fervently; in
+return for which you promise her a ceaseless, tender care, and boundless
+happiness. It does not sound difficult; yet human beings seem to find it
+amazingly so; and your beloved is unfortunately human. You see one does
+not realize at first what love implies. No love is perfect without
+self-denial----"
+
+"I require no self denial," cried Percivale.
+
+"I tell you no two people can live together without it."
+
+"I am going to try, nevertheless. When I have been married a year and a
+day, you shall own that I have illustrated your theory, and had an
+experience all my own!"
+
+"Agreed," was the answer, as the honest gray eyes dwelt on the dark-blue
+ones with an affection which seemed tinged with a faint regret. "But
+will you bear to confess failure if--if by chance failure it should be?"
+
+"There is no question of failure," was the serenely confident answer,
+"always provided I attain the desire of my soul. But we have strayed
+wide of the mark in this interesting discussion. What I really wanted to
+consult you about was--was the difficulty of mine." He lapsed into
+thought for some minutes, and seemed to be nerving himself to speak.
+
+"I wonder," he said at last, "if it really is a difficulty, or whether I
+have been making mountains out of mole-hills. Or, perhaps, on the other
+hand, I have not considered it enough, and it may form a serious
+obstacle...."
+
+Claud's attention was now thoroughly aroused.
+
+"It is--it is--" went on Percivale faltering, "it is a family secret--of
+course I need not ask you to consider this conversation as strictly
+private?"
+
+"Of course--of course," said Claud, hastily.
+
+"Well--it is a secret--a secret connected with my--father." It seemed a
+great effort for him even to say this much. "I never opened my lips on
+this subject to any human being before;" he spoke nervously.
+
+"Don't say any more, if you had rather not," urged Claud, gently.
+
+"I want to tell you, and I may as well do it quickly. Percivale was my
+father's christian, not his sur-name. The sur-name was one which you
+would know well enough were I to mention it--it was notorious through
+most parts of Europe. That name was coupled with undeserved disgrace;"
+he paused a moment, to strengthen his voice, then resumed:
+
+"I entreat you to believe that the disgrace was utterly undeserved. It
+broke his heart. He went abroad with my poor young mother; they buried
+themselves in a small, remote German village. There he died; and she
+followed him when I was born. It was believed that he committed
+suicide: that was also untrue; he was murdered, lest the truth should
+come to light. I heard all this from Dr. Wells, a clergyman who had been
+my father's tutor. He was a real friend--the only man to whom my father
+appealed in his trouble. At my birth, he took me to Schwannberg, the
+Castle of which my mother was heiress. She was an orphan when my father
+married her--twenty years younger than himself. Dr. Wells alone knew all
+the exact details of the whole affair. He made a statement in writing,
+which is in my possession, setting forth his knowledge of my father's
+blameless conduct and the manner of his death. I could not show you this
+paper without your knowing my father's name--and that, I hope, is not at
+present necessary. Now, to come to the point. I have always used the
+name of Percivale, because it was my mother's most earnest entreaty on
+her deathbed, that, if I lived to grow up, I should do so. I have not a
+relation living, so far as I know. Do you think that I should be
+justified in marrying without mentioning what I have told you? Should I
+do anyone any wrong by leaving the story untold? You will see that to
+half-tell it, as I have just done, would be impossible. I should have to
+mention names; and--and----" he dropped into a chair, covering his face
+with his hands.
+
+"Dr. Wells was father and mother both to me," he said. "When his health
+failed, I had the _Swan_ built that his life might be prolonged. He
+liked to roam from place to place in the strong sea-air. I think it did
+serve to keep him with me for some time. When I lost him there was no
+one.... He made me promise him to respect my mother's wish, and keep the
+name by which my father had been known a profound secret. The reasons
+for this are partly political. I think he was right, but I find that,
+from having lived so little in the world, I do not always think as
+others do; so I determined to consult you. Do you see any reason to drag
+this Cerberus to the light of day? or should you let it alone?"
+
+Claud sat plunged in thought.
+
+"There is no possibility of its ever getting about unless you mention
+it?" said he at last.
+
+"None, so far as I can see. Even old M�ller, on my yacht, who was a
+servant in the house when my mother died, does not know of my father's
+changed name nor false accusation. No one in England of those who knew
+him under his own name knew of his marriage, still less that he had left
+a son. I have exercised the minds of all London for the past seven
+years, but nobody has ever guessed at anything dimly resembling the
+truth. Were I to proclaim aloud in society that I was the son of such a
+one, nobody would believe me. The secret is not a shameful one. Were I
+the son of a criminal, I would ask the hand of no woman without telling
+her friends of my case; but my father was a gentleman of high birth and
+stainless honor. May I not respect the silence he wished observed as to
+his name?"
+
+"I think so," said Claud, with decision. "I should not even hint at
+there being a mystery surrounding your parentage."
+
+"Naturally not. I must tell all or nothing."
+
+"Then I should tell nothing. I see no reason why you should. Your
+father's secret is your own; I would not blazon it to the world."
+
+"That is your deliberate opinion?"
+
+"Certainly--my deliberate opinion. I am honored, Percivale, that you
+have trusted me so generously."
+
+"I knew you were to be trusted," said Percivale, simply; then, turning
+his face fully towards him with a fine smile, he added--"I shall, of
+course, tell my wife the whole story when we are married."
+
+"What, names and all?" said Claud anxiously.
+
+"Names and all. I will marry no woman unless I feel that I can safely
+lay my life and honor in her hands."
+
+Claud had no reply to make; in the silence which followed, the door at
+the obscure end of the room opened, and the servant, advancing to the
+borders of the lamplight, announced,
+
+"Lady Mabel Wynch-Fr�re and Miss Brabourne."
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XL.
+
+    Beat, happy stars, timing with things below,
+    Beat with my heart, more blest than heart can tell,
+    Blest, but for some dark undercurrent woe
+    That seems to draw--but it shall not be so:
+    Let all be well, be well.
+
+    _Maud._
+
+
+"Dinner at once, Fritz," said Percivale to his servant, as he advanced
+to meet his guests.
+
+"Are we late?" cried Lady Mabel, as she swept her silken skirts up the
+long room, and greeted her host with extended hand. "It must be Elsa's
+fault, then--she was so long dressing."
+
+"Oh, Lady Mabel!" cried Elsa, in lovely confusion, as she came forward
+in her turn.
+
+She was in black to-night--some delicate, clinging, semi-transparent
+material, arranged in wonderful folds, with gleams of brightness here
+and there. It caused her neck and arms to seem a miracle of fairness;
+the arrangement of her golden hair was perfect, a diamond arrow being
+stuck through its masses.
+
+To the chivalrous poetic mind of her lover, she was a dream of beauty--a
+thing hardly mortal--so transfused with soul and spirit, that no thought
+of the mundane or the commonplace could intrude into his thoughts of
+her.
+
+Disillusioned! Could any man ever be disillusioned who had the depths of
+those lake-like eyes to gaze into?
+
+She gave him her little hand--_bien gant�e_--and lifted those eyes to
+his. Lady Mabel had passed on to speak to her brother.
+
+"I have no flowers," said Elsa, softly "you told me not to wear any."
+
+"I wished you to wear mine, will you?" said Percivale.
+
+Her eyelids fell before his eager glance: but she made a little movement
+of assent.
+
+He turned to the table, and taking up the fragrant bouquet of lillies,
+placed it in her hands; then lifting another of mixed flowers, which lay
+beside it, he offered it to Lady Mabel, with an entreaty that she would
+honor him by carrying it that night.
+
+As he spoke, a pair of dark curtains, which hung at the upper end of the
+room, were drawn back by two men in livery; and Fritz, appearing in the
+aperture, solemnly announced,
+
+"Dinner is served."
+
+Percivale offered Lady Mabel his arm, and led her through the archway,
+followed by Claud and Elsa.
+
+"Claud, will you take the foot of the table for me?" said he.
+
+"Which do you call the foot?" laughed Claud, as he sat down opposite his
+host at the daintily appointed round table.
+
+The room was very much smaller than that they had quitted, but was quite
+a study in its way. Vanbrugh had designed the ceiling and carvings, and
+a fine selection of paintings adorned the walls. A beautiful Procaccini
+was let into the wall above the mantelpiece; a Sasso Ferrato was
+opposite. Two Ruysdaels lent the glamor of their deep gloomy wood and
+sky, and the foam of their magic waterfalls. The whole room was lit with
+wax candles, and fragrant with the violets which composed the table
+decorations.
+
+"I am so sorry to seem to hurry you," said Percivale, apologetically;
+"but I want Miss Brabourne to hear the overture; one ought not to miss
+the overture to 'Lohengrin,' though I find it is the fashion in England
+to saunter in in the middle of the first act."
+
+"Oh, dear, yes; but we don't go to the opera to hear music in England,"
+laughed Lady Mabel. "It is to see the new _prima donna_, or study the
+costumes of the ladies in the stalls."
+
+"I should have no objection, if these laudable objects could be attained
+without spoiling the pleasure of those who are sufficiently out of date
+to wish to listen to the performance," replied Percivale. "It is the one
+thing in England which I cannot bear with temper! It would not be
+allowed in Germany."
+
+"Germany is the land of the leal for those that love music."
+
+"Yes, indeed; there one can let oneself go, in utter enjoyment, knowing
+that there can be no onslaught of large and massive Philistine, sweeping
+her ample wraps, kicking your toes, struggling across your knees,
+banging down the seat of her stall with a report that eclipses and blots
+out a dozen delicate chords. No loudly whispered comments, no breathless
+pantings are audible, no wrestling with contumacious hooks and clasps
+sets your teeth on edge. For the unmusical and vociferous British
+female, if she have arrived late, will be forcibly detained at the door
+till the first act is over, and even then will enter despoiled of most
+of her weapons for creating a disturbance, having been forced to leave
+her superfluous clothing in the _garde-robe_."
+
+They had never seen Percivale so gay, nor so full of talk. He chatted on
+about one subject and another, addressing himself mostly to Lady Mabel,
+whilst Claud was constrained to listen, since Elsa was even more silent
+than her wont.
+
+The dinner was excellently cooked and served.
+
+"You are a perfect Count of Monte Cristo, Percivale," laughed Claud. "I
+feel myself waiting for the crowning point of the entertainment. Will
+not your slaves presently bring in a living fish, brought from Russia in
+salt water to die on the table? Shall we each find a Koh-i-noor diamond
+in our finger-bowl as a slight mark of your esteem? Or, at a given
+signal, shall we be buried in a shower of rose-leaves like the guests of
+Heliogabalus!"
+
+Percivale laughed, and reddened.
+
+"Sorry to disappoint you, but I have prepared no conjuring tricks
+to-night," he said. "Another time, perhaps, when we have more leisure.
+Lady Mabel, you must not judge of the entertainment I like to offer my
+guests from this hurried little meal; you will do me the honor to return
+here after the opera, and have some supper? I am afraid we have no time
+to lose now."
+
+"Mabel neither eats anything herself nor thinks that other people ought
+to," complained Claud. "I suffer a daily martyrdom in her house, and I
+am sure I begin to perceive signs of inanition in Miss Brabourne. You
+see, it demoralises the cook. She thinks that to live on air is the
+peculiarity of the upper ten, and wants me to dine on a cutlet the size
+of half-a-crown with a tomato on the top, followed by the leg of a
+quail."
+
+"How can you, sir?" cried Lady Mabel, in mock indignation, shaking her
+fist at her brother.
+
+"I tell you it's the literal truth; that is the real reason why poor
+Edward is wintering abroad. He cannot reduce his appetite to the
+required pitch of elegance."
+
+"If elegance consists in eating nothing, Mr. Percivale may take the
+prize to-night," observed Lady Mabel, significantly, as she and Elsa
+rose from table.
+
+"I--have not much appetite to-night," stammered the young man, in some
+confusion, as he started up and held the curtain for the ladies to pass
+through.
+
+He remained standing, so, with uplifted arm, for several seconds after
+the sweep of Elsa's black skirts had died away into silence; then,
+letting the curtain drop suddenly into place, turned back and tossed his
+crushed serviette upon the table. She had been there--in these lonely
+rooms, which year by year he had heaped with treasures for the ideal
+bride who was to come. Now the fancy had taken shape--the vision was
+realised; the beautiful woman of his dreams stood before him in bodily
+form. Would she take all this treasured, stored-up love and longing
+which he was aching to cast at her feet?
+
+Claud broke in upon his reverie.
+
+"I wish you luck, Leon," said he, coming up and grasping his hand.
+
+His friend turned round with a brilliant smile.
+
+"That is a capital omen," he said, "that you should call me by my name.
+Nobody has called me by my name--for five years. Thank you, Claud."
+
+He returned the pressure of the hand with fervor; then, starting, said:
+
+"Come, get your coat, we shall be late," and hurried through the
+archway, followed by Mr. Cranmer.
+
+The opera-house was crowded that night. There were the German
+enthusiasts occupying all the cheap places, their scores under their
+arms, their faces beaming with anticipation; there was the fashionable
+English crowd in the most costly places, there because they supposed
+they ought to say they had heard "Lohengrin," but consoling themselves
+with the thought that they could leave if they were very much bored, and
+mildly astonished at the eccentricity of those who could persuade
+themselves that they really liked Wagner. And lastly, there were the
+excessively cultured English clique, the apostles of the music of the
+future, looking with gentle tolerance on the youthful crudities of
+"Lohengrin," and sitting through it only because they could not have
+"Siegfried" or the "G�tterd�mmerung."
+
+A very languid clapping greeted the conductor of the orchestra as he
+took his seat. Percivale, watching Elsa, saw her eyes dilated, her whole
+being poised in anticipation of the first note, as the _b�ton_ was
+slowly raised. There was a soft shudder of violins--a delicate agony of
+sound vibrated along the nerves. Can any operatic writer ever hope to
+surpass that first slow sweep of suggestive harmony? From the moment
+when the overture began, Percivale's beloved sat rapt.
+
+The curtain rose on the barbaric crowd--the dramatic action of the opera
+began. At the appearance of her namesake, the falsely accused Elsa of
+Brabant, a storm of feeling agitated the modern Elsa as she gazed.
+
+At last she could keep silence no longer. Turning up her face to
+Percivale's, who sat next her:
+
+"Oh," she whispered, "it is like me--and you came, like Lohengrin, to
+save me."
+
+He smiled into her eyes.
+
+"Nay," he said, "I am no immortal or miraculous champion; you will not
+induce me to depart as easily as he did. Besides, I do not think he was
+right--he demanded too much of his Elsa--more than any woman was capable
+of. You will see what I mean, when the next act begins."
+
+To these two, as they sat together--so near--almost hand-in-hand, the
+music was fraught with an exquisite depth of meaning which it could not
+bear to other ears.
+
+As the notes of the distant organ broke through the orchestra, and
+rolled sonorous from the cathedral doors, it was like a foreshadowing to
+Percivale of his own future happiness.
+
+And when, in the twilight of their chamber, Lohengrin and Elsa were left
+alone, and the mysterious thrilling melody of the wonderful love-duet
+was flooding the air, unconsciously the hand of the listening girl fell
+into that of her lover, and so they sat, recking nothing of the
+significance of the action, until the curtain fell.
+
+"Now you will see," spoke Percivale, softly, "that Lohengrin did what I
+could not do; he left his--Elsa."
+
+She did not answer; she could not. Ashamed of her late action, and with
+a tumult of strange new feelings stirring in her heart, she turned her
+head away from him, and would not speak again until the end of the
+opera.
+
+"I want to offer an apology," said Percivale to Lady Mabel, as he
+arranged her cloak. "Will you condescend to drive back in a hansom? My
+coachman has rheumatism, and I told him he was not to come for us."
+
+"Certainly. I have a great partiality for hansoms," answered Lady Mabel,
+readily; she was rather disconcerted, however, a moment later, to find
+that it was her brother who was at her elbow.
+
+"Where is Elsa? Claud, you should have taken her," she said, rather
+irritably.
+
+"I? Thanks, no. I don't care to force my company on a young lady who
+would rather be with the other fellow. No hurry, Mab. I want to light a
+cigar."
+
+"Nonsense, Claud. Get me a cab at once. Am I to wait in this draughty
+place?"
+
+"You must, unless you are prepared to walk in those shoes as far as the
+end of the street."
+
+"But where are the other two? Are they behind?"
+
+"No; got the start of us, I fancy," said Claud, with exasperating
+calmness. "Wait a moment. I will go out and catch a cab if you will stay
+here."
+
+He vanished accordingly and his sister was constrained to wait for him.
+When at last he returned, she was almost the only lady still waiting.
+
+"You have no idea," said Claud, apologetically, "of the stupendous
+difficulty of finding a cab. They all say they are engaged. I feel quite
+out of the fashion, Mab; I think I ought to be engaged."
+
+"I'm not in a mood for nonsense, sir. I am vexed with you, and with Mr.
+Percivale, too. He could not have meant to treat me like this--he had no
+right to make off in that manner and leave me in the lurch."
+
+"To be left in the lurch _is_ sometimes the fate of chaperones,"
+observed her brother, pensively, as he piloted her out of the theatre.
+"I am afraid you hardly counted the cost, Mab, when you offered to
+chaperone a beauty. It is hardly your _r�le_, old lady."
+
+This was too true to be pleasant. Lady Mabel was so accustomed to male
+admiration that she usually took it for granted that she was the
+attraction. The great influx of young men which inundated Bruton Street
+had caused her, only a few days back, to congratulate herself that her
+charms were still potent. Percivale's good looks, riches, and generally
+unusual _entourage_ had led her to imagine that a platonic friendship
+with him would enliven the winter. The idea suggested by her brother's
+words was like a douche of cold water. If he were such an idiot as to be
+in love with the pretty face of the foolish Elsa--well! But he was so
+fascinating that one could not help regretting it! He was raised all of
+a sudden to a much higher value than the crowd of adorers who in general
+formed her ladyship's court. Surely he could not intend to go and tie
+himself down at his age! The thought greatly disturbed her.
+
+"Claud, you must throw away that cigar, and tell him to let down the
+glass--I am frozen."
+
+Claud complied.
+
+"He's going in a very queer direction," observed he, presently. "Hallo,
+friend, this is not the way to St. James's Place."
+
+"Thought you said St. James' Square, sir."
+
+"Well, I didn't; it's exactly the opposite direction, down by the
+river----"
+
+"Right, sir. I know it."
+
+"I suppose you will get there some time to-morrow morning," observed his
+sister, icily.
+
+"I am tearing my lungs to pieces in my efforts to do so," was the polite
+response.
+
+Percivale and Elsa stood together in the lamplight.
+
+Thanks to Claud's kindly manoeuvres, a precious half-hour had been
+theirs. The young man's arms were round the slim form of his beloved and
+there was a look in his eyes as though, to him, life had indeed become
+the "perfumed altar-flame" to which Maud's lover likened his.
+
+A deep hush was over the whole place, and over his noble soul as he held
+his treasure tenderly to him.
+
+Presently, breaking through his rapturous dream, he led her to the
+window, and, pushing it open, they gazed down on the wide dark waters of
+the Thames, lighted by a million lamps.
+
+"We stand together as did Lohengrin and his Elsa," he murmured. "Oh,
+love, love, love, if I could tell you how I love you!"
+
+"It is sweet to be loved," said the girl. "I have never had much love,
+all my life. When first I went abroad, and began to read novels, I used
+to wonder if any such thing would ever happen to me."
+
+"But--but," faltered Percivale, a sudden jealous pang darting through
+his consciousness, "did not some one speak to you of love before--before
+I ever saw you, sweet?"
+
+"Oh, Osmond Allonby. Poor Osmond!" Leaning back against his arm she
+turned her beautiful face to his. "I did not know what love meant,
+then," she said.
+
+He bent his mouth to hers.
+
+"You know now, Elsa?"
+
+Even as he kissed her, a sudden unbidden memory of Claud's warning words
+rushed in and seemed just to dash the bliss of that caress.
+
+"You ask more than any woman can give?" No, he fiercely told himself, he
+asked of her nothing but to be just what she was. Was it her fault that
+Osmond could not look on her without loving? Most certainly not.
+
+Love and happiness, the two things from which this rich young man had
+been debarred, seemed all his own at last.
+
+Farewell to lonely cruising and aimless travels. His heart's core, his
+life's aim was found; the birthday of his life had come.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XLI.
+
+    Well, you may, you must, set down to me
+    Love that was life, life that was love;
+    A tenure of breath at your lips' decree,
+    A passion to stand as your thoughts approve,
+    A rapture to fall where your foot might be.
+
+    _James Lee's Wife._
+
+
+"Come in," was the languid reply, as Lady Mabel knocked briskly at her
+young guest's bed-room door.
+
+Lady Mabel had been up for hours. If there was one thing upon which she
+prided herself, it was on being an exemplary mother. She had breakfasted
+with her little girls and their governess at eight, had seen her
+housekeeper, made arrangements for her dinner-party that night, send
+Claud out shopping for her with a lengthy list of commissions, written
+several notes, and now, trim, freshly dressed, and energetic, presented
+herself at Elsa's door to know how she felt after the fatigues of her
+first opera.
+
+Elsa was just out of her bed. She was lolling in a deep luxurious
+arm-chair, with all her golden hair streaming about her. Her room was in
+a state of the utmost disorder, and her French maid stood behind her
+with an expression of deep and embittered sulkiness.
+
+"My good child, what is the meaning of all this mess?" cried Lady Mabel,
+somewhat aghast. Miss Brabourne's habits daily set all her teeth on
+edge; though her shortcomings were probably only the natural rebound
+after the state of repression and confinement in which she had been
+brought up.
+
+At Edge Combe there had been no shops, and she had been allowed no
+pocket-money; consequently she now never went out for a walk without
+lavishly purchasing a hundred useless and costly trifles with which she
+strewed her room. Under the regime of the Misses Willoughby no
+untidiness had been permitted; Miss Brabourne had darned her own
+stockings and repaired her own gloves. Now she let the natural bent of
+her untidy disposition have full play, flung her things about in all
+directions, and never touched a needle. In her childhood she had been
+obliged to rise at seven, and practise calisthenics for an hour before
+breakfast. Now that this restraint was removed, she never rose to
+breakfast at all, but usually spent the entire morning dawdling about in
+her bed-room in a loose wrapper, and with her hair hanging over her
+shoulders.
+
+Like Lady Teazle, she was more self-indulgent, and gave far more trouble
+to her maid, than if she had been reared in habits of the greatest
+luxury. All her tastes were expensive and elegant. Dress was almost a
+mania with her, and no sooner had she been allowed to plan her own than
+she manifested a wonderfully correct taste. The rustic nymph, on whom
+Percivale's eyes had first fallen when he landed on Edge Beach, had
+entirely disappeared in the Miss Brabourne who lived only for fashion,
+admiration, and amusement.
+
+She knew exactly what suited her--how daring her perfect complexion and
+fine shape permitted her to be in her choice of color and style--how
+the greatest severity only showed up and enhanced her beauty the more.
+Her whole time was devoted to the planning of new toilettes; her
+lengthiest visits were to her dressmaker.
+
+Henry Fowler had not thought it prudent to make an exceedingly large
+allowance to a girl who had never had money to spend before; but this in
+no way circumscribed Elsa's movements, since before she had been a week
+in London she found out that unlimited credit could be hers.
+
+The account-books carefully prepared by Aunt Charlotte before taking
+leave of her young niece lay at the bottom of her trunk, the virgin
+whiteness of their pages unmarked by a single entry. She had come to
+London to enjoy herself, and she meant to do so. Her visit could not
+last more than a few weeks, and then she would have to go back to Edge.
+
+This thought was horror and misery unutterable. She loathed the place.
+Every association was hateful to her. She never wished to behold it
+again. As each day brought her nearer to the hideous prospect, her
+spirit shrank from it more and more. There was no other house in London
+where she could become a visitor, as the break with the Ortons was of
+course complete and final. And there was no hope at all of the aunts
+bringing her to town. The agitations of the past summer had greatly
+aggravated Miss Helen's weakness, and Miss Charlotte and Miss Emily had
+declared, on returning from their four months abroad, that they should
+not dare leave Fanny again in sole charge.
+
+The thought of living the spring and summer through mewed up in lonely
+captivity at Edge, after the intoxicating taste of life and pleasure
+which she had had, was too terrible to be borne with gratitude.
+
+Elsa could see no way out of the dilemma but to be married.
+
+But Osmond Allonby could not help her here. He could not afford to marry
+yet; and to be married at once was her aim. And now, suddenly,
+unexpectedly, dazzlingly, here was Mr. Percivale, the wonderful owner of
+the yacht, the stately gentleman, the rich, mysterious stranger,
+offering her his heart as humbly as if she had been an empress.
+
+The girl felt her triumph in every fibre of her nature. It had not
+occurred to her to think of Percivale as her lover.
+
+His stately courtesy and distant reverence had seemed to her like pride.
+He had never been openly her slave, as was Osmond, whose infatuation had
+been patent from the first moment of meeting. Her admiration for the
+hero had been always mixed with a certain fear and great shyness.
+
+She had heard him discussed wherever they went--here in London as well
+as all along the Mediterranean--when, wherever the yacht put in, it had
+been the cause of boundless excitement and interest, heightened to
+fever-heat when it was discovered that the solitary and mysterious owner
+had friends on board.
+
+She knew that he was considered one of the "catches" of society--that to
+be on intimate terms with him was the aim of some of the leaders of the
+world of fashion. Town gossip never tired of his name, and whatever it
+had to say of him had been listened to with eager ears by Elsa.
+
+Gossip and scandal had never been heard at Edge Willoughby; they had all
+the charm of novelty to the uninitiated girl, who absorbed the contents
+of every society journal she could get, and was far better versed in the
+latest morganatic marriage or the Court sensation than was Lady Mabel,
+who, being genuinely a woman of intelligence, usually let such trash
+alone.
+
+Thus were filled the blank spaces which Elsa's training had left in her
+mind. Wynifred's dictum had been perfectly accurate. Not knowing their
+niece's proclivities in the least, the Misses Willoughby had not known
+what to guard against in her education. They had regarded her as so much
+raw material, to be converted into what fabric they pleased; now, her
+natural impulses began to show themselves with untutored freedom.
+
+She was acutely alive to the importance of her conquest, but she was,
+let it be granted her, perfectly honest, as far as she knew, in telling
+Percivale that she loved him. She liked him very much; she admired his
+personal appearance exceedingly; she was beyond measure flattered at his
+preference; she preferred him, on every ground, to either Osmond
+Allonby, or any other man she had ever seen.
+
+Of what love, in its highest and deepest sense, meant--such love as
+Percivale offered her--she was intensely ignorant; but few men will
+quarrel with incomprehension, if only it be beautiful; and how beautiful
+she was! Even Lady Mabel confessed it, much as the girl irritated her,
+as she sat supine before her in the easy-chair, lightly holding a
+hand-mirror.
+
+"My dear Elsa, are you aware that Mr. Miles will be here in half-an-hour
+for a sitting?"
+
+"I know," said Elsa, in her laconic way; adding, as if by an
+after-thought. "It isn't my fault; Mathilde is so stupid this morning. I
+must have my hair properly done when Mr. Miles comes, and I have had to
+make her pull it all down twice."
+
+"There is no satisfying mademoiselle," muttered Mathilde.
+
+"Mathilde, don't be rude," said Elsa, calmly.
+
+Poor Mathilde! To her were doled out, day after day, all the countless
+small grudges owed to Jane Gollop by her young mistress. Like all
+oppressed humanity, when once the oppression was removed, Elsa
+tyrannised. The maid proceeded to lift the luminous flexible masses of
+threaded gold, and to pack them afresh over the top of the small head in
+artistic loops, the girl keenly watching every movement in the mirror.
+
+"Don't wait, please, Lady Mabel," said she, abstractedly, arranging the
+soft short locks on her brow. "I shall be down in ten minutes; I want to
+say something to you particularly."
+
+Lady Mabel, after a significant glance round the room, shrugged her
+shoulders, and went out.
+
+"Her husband need be rich," she soliloquised as she descended the
+stairs.
+
+Claud was seated in her morning-room, his youngest niece upon his knee.
+This fascinating person, whose age was three, was confiding to her uncle
+the somewhat unlooked-for fact that she was a policeman, and intended to
+take him that moment to prison. If he resisted, instant death must be
+his portion. Two plump white fists were clenched in his faultless
+shirt-collar, and he hailed his sister's entrance with a whoop of
+relief.
+
+"Just in time, Mab! My last hour had come," he cried, as he relegated
+the zealous arm of the law to the hearth-rug, stood up, and shook
+himself. "Why do children invariably select the tragedy and not the
+comedy of life for their games? I should think, Mab, for once that you
+and I assisted at a wedding we took part in a hundred executions--ay,
+leading parts, too; the bitterness of death ought to be past for us
+two."
+
+"Have you been taking care of this monkey?" said Mab, rubbing her face
+lovingly against his arm. "What a comfort you are to have in the house,
+dear boy; far more useful than my visitor upstairs, for instance. She is
+not handy with children, to say the least of it."
+
+"She has not had my long apprenticeship," returned Claud,
+good-humoredly. "Hallo, Kathleen mavourneen, I draw the line at the
+poker, young lady."
+
+"Baby, be good," said baby's mother, as her daughter was reluctantly
+induced to part with her weapon. "You make excuses for Elsa, Claud; why
+don't you admit that you are as much disappointed in her as I am?"
+
+"Because I am not at all disappointed in her. You know, after the first
+few days, she never attracted me in the least."
+
+"I know. I used to wonder why. Now I give you credit for much
+discrimination. She will never make a good wife."
+
+"I say, that is going too far, Mab. She may develop--I hope--" he
+paused, and his voice took an inflection of deep feeling--"I devoutly
+hope she may."
+
+"Why?"
+
+"Because the happiness of the best man I know is absolutely dependent on
+her."
+
+"Claud! He told you?"
+
+"Yes."
+
+The young man leaned his arm on the mantelpiece, fixing a meditative eye
+on his niece as she crawled up his leg.
+
+"Did you--did you not--dissuade him in any way?"
+
+"No," was the slow reply.
+
+"I think, Claud, if he asked for your opinion--"
+
+"Well, he didn't--that is, not on the lady. He did not even mention her
+name. I told him that, broadly speaking, I thought everything depended
+on compatibility of disposition; but what on earth is the use, Mab, of
+cautioning a man who is head over ears in love, as he is? You might as
+well try to stop Niagara; he is beyond the reasoning stage. Besides,
+what could I urge? That I believed the lady of his choice to be selfish,
+vain, and not too sweet-tempered? I couldn't say that, you know; and of
+course he thinks he is likely to know about as much of her as I do; he
+has been with her, on and off, ever since the autumn."
+
+"Oh, you men, you men!" cried Mab. "Caught by a pretty face, even the
+best and noblest of you!"
+
+"Not I," interrupted Claud, shortly. "No! That beautiful girl upstairs
+doesn't know what it means to love as I would have my wife love me. She
+has no passion in her! And she does not know the value of love! She does
+not know that it is the one, only central force of life--the thing
+without which any lot is hard--with which any hardship is merely a
+trifle not worth noticing. How should she know the power of it, that
+flame which, once lit, burns slowly at first,--cold, perhaps, and
+faintly--for the loves that flare up at once are straw fires, they burn
+out. This that I mean grows slowly, steadily, till all the heart is one
+glowing, throbbing mass, flinging steadfast heat and radiance around.
+This is love."
+
+Lady Mabel's susceptible Irish eyes were wet. She had missed her life's
+aim, not through her own fault: which fact perhaps helped to make her
+brother so tender to her failings, so anxious for her happiness.
+
+"You speak feelingly, Claud," she said.
+
+"Do I?" said the young man. He lowered his eyes to the carpet, and
+blushed, smiling a little.
+
+"Claud!" vehemently cried his sister, "you are in love!"
+
+"If I am, it is with my eyes open. I am not a boy, Mab."
+
+"No, indeed; but who can she be. Won't you tell me, dear?"
+
+"I can't tell you, because I'm afraid I am in the ignoble case of loving
+without return. You see," he faltered, "there is nothing very heroic
+about me--nothing that I ever said or did, as far as I know, would
+entitle me to the slightest respect from any woman with a high standard.
+Look at my life. What have I done with it? Just nothing. Why, Kathleen
+mavourneen," cried he, diving down to the rug, and catching the warm
+white child in his arms, "the most onerous of my duties has been to
+carry you up to bed on my shoulder, hasn't it?"
+
+"Claud, my dear old man, you mustn't! Why, what an untold comfort you
+have been to me when Edwar--when I could not have lived but for you!"
+cried Mab, the tears splashing on her cheeks. "I envy your wife! She
+will have the most constant, loving care of any woman under heaven--you
+will be an ideal husband--the longer she is married the better she will
+learn to appreciate you!"
+
+"I never shall have a wife at all, Mab, if I cannot get this one," said
+Claud, with a ring of determination in his voice which was quite new.
+
+Lady Mabel contemplated him for a moment.
+
+"Is she rich, Claud?"
+
+"No," said he, laughing a little.
+
+"So I expected. Trust you never to love a rich woman. You would sit down
+and analyse your feelings till you became perfectly certain that some
+greed of gain mingled with your affection. But, my dear boy, forgive the
+pathos of the inquiry, but how should you propose to set up
+housekeeping?"
+
+"I should take a post--cut the Bar and take a post."
+
+"Charming, but who will offer the post?"
+
+"A friend of mine," was the mysterious reply.
+
+"Percivale, of course. Well, I suppose he has influence. Poor fellow! I
+could wish him to have a happier future than seems to me to lie before
+him."
+
+"Tell you, Mab, you take too serious a view. I will sketch his married
+career for you. The first six weeks will be bliss unutterable, because
+he will himself turn on his own rose-colored light upon everything and
+everybody, and his bride will be beautiful, amiable, and passive. Then
+will come a disillusioning, sharp and bitter. He will be most fearfully
+upset for a time, there will be a period of blank horror, of
+astonishment, of incredulity, almost of despair. Then will dawn the
+period when the bridegroom will discover that his wife is neither the
+angel he first took her for, nor the fiend she afterwards seemed, but a
+very middling, earthly young person, with youth and beauty in her favor.
+Once wide awake from the dream that was to have lasted for ever, he will
+pull himself together, and find life first tolerable, then pleasant; but
+for the remainder of his days he will never be in love with his wife
+again, even for a moment. Now in my case----"
+
+He had never mentioned his love before to anyone; in fact, until last
+night's talk with Percivale he had scarcely been sure of it himself. To
+use his own metaphor, his friend had stirred the smouldering hot coals,
+and they had burst into blaze at last. The earth and air were full of
+Wynifred. The end of life seemed at present to consist in the fact that
+she was coming to dine that night.
+
+His sister's thoughts still ran on Percivale.
+
+"Claud," she said, "do you really think it will be as bad as that?"
+
+"More or less, I am afraid so. He is a man with such a very high
+ideal--with a rectitude of purpose, a purity of motive which do not
+belong to our century. Miss Brabourne _must_ disappoint him. But she is
+very young, and one can never prophesy exactly ... marriage sometimes
+alters a girl completely, and his nature is such a strong one, it must
+influence hers. I think she is a little in awe of him, which is an
+excellent thing; though how long such awe will last when she discovers
+that his marital attitude is sheer prostration before her, I cannot
+tell. Besides, he does not really require that she shall love him, only
+that she shall permit him to love her as much as he will; at present, at
+least, such an arrangement will just suit her."
+
+As he spoke the words, the door opened to admit Elsa herself.
+
+She entered, looking such a picture of girlish grace and sweetness as
+more than accounted for Percivale's subjugation. She wore the
+semi-classic robe of white and gold, in which Mr. Miles had chosen to
+paint her; and, as it was an evening dress, she had covered her
+shoulders with a long white cloak, lined with palest green silk.
+
+"Oh!" she stopped short, laughing. "Good-morning, Mr. Cranmer! I did not
+know you were here. I feel so crazy, dressed up like this in broad
+daylight. I wonder if I might be rude enough to ask you to turn out for
+a few minutes? I want to speak to Lady Mabel."
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XLII.
+
+    He either fears his fate too much,
+      Or his deserts are small,
+    That fears to put it to the touch
+      To win or lose it all!
+
+    _Marquess of Montrose._
+
+
+Lady Mabel's dinner-party was a very cultured but also a somewhat
+unconventional one. Twelve was the number of guests, and all of them
+were young, lively, and either literary, scientific, artistic, or
+otherwise professional.
+
+Wynifred had been invited, as Jacqueline's penetration had divined,
+solely on the score of "Cicely Montfort's" success.
+
+If there was one thing that Lady Mabel loved, it was a gathering of this
+sort: where everything imaginable was discussed, from anthropomorphism
+to the growing of tobacco in England--from Egyptian hieroglyphics to the
+latest _opera bouffe_. The relations of her ladyship's husband would
+have had a fit could they have peeped from the heights of their English
+starch and propriety at the _mixed_ company in Bruton Street. But, not
+greatly to his wife's regret, Colonel Wynch-Fr�re's health had entailed
+a sojourn in Egypt for the winter, and his relations were conspicuous by
+their absence. Claud, her unconventional, happy-go-lucky brother, made
+all the host she required. However little he might care for the young
+actors and journalists who adored his sister, he was always genially
+ready to shake hands and profess himself glad to see them; and when his
+eldest brother, the earl, complained to him of Mabel's vagaries, he
+would merely placidly reply that he did not see why the poor girl should
+not have some pleasure in her life--let her take it how she pleased.
+
+Her ladyship was, of course, a holder of that unwritten axiom which
+governs modern culture, _Intelligence implies infidelity_.
+
+If she met anyone who had read, or thought, on any subject whatever,
+she took it for granted that they had decided that the gospels were
+spurious, and St. Paul, as Festus discovered, beside himself. Of course
+she, in common with everyone else equally enlightened, kindly conceded
+the extreme beauty of the gospel narrative and the great force of St.
+Paul's reasoning on false premises--as furnishing a kind of excuse to
+those people who had ignorantly accepted them as a Divine message for so
+long.
+
+The great charm of holding these opinions was that she found so many to
+sympathise with her, and she had invited a selection of these to dinner
+that night, sure that the conversation would be most interesting and
+instructive. Concerning Wynifred's views on this point she had no
+definite knowledge. "Cicely Montfort" spoke of Christianity as still a
+vital force, and of the Church Catholic as bearing a Divine charter to
+the end of time; but, of course, Christianity is a very artistic theme,
+with highly dramatic possibilities, and the most utter unbeliever may
+use it effectively to suit the purposes of fiction. Anyway, Lady Mabel's
+breadth of view constrained her to hope the best--to expect
+enlightenment until ignorance and superstition had been openly avowed;
+so she invited Miss Allonby to dinner.
+
+Her pretty drawing-room was as complete as taste could make it; she
+herself was a study, as she stood on the fur hearth-rug, receiving her
+friends, with all her Irish grace of manner.
+
+Wynifred was in anything but high spirits when she arrived. To begin
+with, she was overworked. In her anxiety to render Osmond independent,
+she had been taxing her strength to its utmost limits all the winter
+through. In the next place, she was angry with herself for having
+accepted the invitation; she thought that it showed a want of proper
+pride on her part. Finally she was very unhappy over herself, on account
+of her utter failure to drive the thought of Claud Cranmer from her
+heart. Her self-control seemed gone. She had exacted too much from the
+light heart of girlhood--had employed her powers of concentration too
+unsparingly. Now the mainspring had suddenly failed; she felt weak and
+frightened.
+
+What was to be done if her hold over herself should give way altogether?
+A nervous dread was upon her. If her old power over her feelings was
+gone, on what could she depend? All the way to Bruton Street she was
+calling up her pride, her maidenliness, everything she could think of to
+sustain her; yet all the time with a secret consciousness that it was
+like applying the spur to a jaded horse--sooner or later she must
+stumble, and fall exhausted.
+
+She looked worn and pale as she entered the room. Claud took note of it.
+Had he been on the brink of falling in love, it might have checked him;
+but, as he was already hopelessly in that condition, it merely inspired
+him with tenderness unutterable. It no longer mattered to him whether
+she were plain or pretty, youthful or worn; whatever she was, he loved
+her.
+
+It so happened that she was obliged, after just greeting him, to take a
+seat at the further side of the room, and politeness forced him to
+continue the discussion on Swinburne into which he had been drawn by the
+last new poetess, a pretty little woman with soft eyes and a hard mouth,
+who was living separated from her husband, but most touchingly devoted
+to her two children. She was a spiritualist, and had written a book to
+prove that Shakespeare was of the same following, so that her
+conversation was, as will be divined, deeply interesting.
+
+Wyn, for a few minutes, sat without speaking to anybody, taking in her
+surroundings gradually. It seemed as if things were on a different
+footing--as if all were changed since the old days at Edge. Claud, in
+his simple faultless evening attire, with his smooth fair head under the
+light of a yellow silk lamp-shade, and the last new book balanced
+carelessly between his fingers as he leaned forward in his low chair,
+was in some indefinable way a different Claud from him who had stood
+with her in the garden of Poole Farm in the glowing twilight of the
+early summer night, which had brought back life to Osmond.
+
+The room was a mass of little luxuries--trifles too light and various to
+be describable, all the nameless elegancies of modern life, with its
+superfluities, its pretence of intellect, its discriminating taste. It
+was not exactly the impression of great wealth which was conveyed--that,
+as a rule, is self-assertive. Here the arrangement was absolutely
+unconscious; there was no display, it was rather a total ignorance of
+the value of money--the result of a condition of life where poverty in
+detail was unknown. Lady Mabel had often experienced the want of money,
+but that meant money in large quantities; she had been called upon to
+forego a London season; she had never felt it necessary to deny herself
+a guinea's-worth of hot-house flowers.
+
+Wynifred sat in the circle of delicate light, feeling in every fibre of
+her nature the rest and delight of her surroundings. The craving for
+beautiful things, for ease and luxury, always so carefully smothered,
+was wide awake to-night. Lady Mabel seemed environed in an atmosphere of
+her own. The short skirts and thick boots which she had used in
+Devonshire were things of the past. Her thick white silk gown swept the
+rug at her feet, her emeralds flashed, her clumps of violets made the
+air sweet all round her. It was something alien from the seamy side of
+life which the girl knew so well. That very day she had travelled along
+Holborn, in an omnibus, weary but hopeful, from an interview with her
+publisher. Now the idea of that dingy omnibus, of the yellow fog, muddy
+streets, dirty boots, and tired limbs;--of the lonely, ungirlish
+battling for independence, sent through her a weak movement of false
+shame. It was repented of as soon as felt; but the sting remained. It
+was not wise of her to visit in Bruton Street. What had she in common
+with Lady Mabel, or--Lady Mabel's brother? Her unpretentious black
+evening dress, though it fitted well, and showed up the delicate skin
+which was one of her definite attractions, seemed to belong to a lower
+order of things than the mist of lace, silk, sparkles, and faint perfume
+which clad her hostess.
+
+No, she was not wise, she told herself, in the perturbation of her
+spirits. What besides discontent could she achieve here?
+
+This unhappy frame of mind lasted about a quarter-of-an-hour. Then she
+began to call herself to order. Lady Mabel's attention was diverted by a
+young man who was yearning to rave with her over the priceless depths of
+truth revealed in the latest infidel romance, and the fearless manner in
+which the devoted author had stripped Christianity of its superstitions,
+to give it to the world in all its uninspired simplicity. Like the
+authoress of the book in question, Lady Mabel had imbibed her Strauss
+and her Hegel somewhat late in life, as well as a good deal late in her
+century. Doctrines burst upon her with all the force of novelty which,
+in the year 1858, a champion of Christianity had been able calmly to
+describe as "a class of objections which were very popular a few years
+ago, and are not yet entirely extinguished."
+
+The calm disapproval with which Miss Allonby found that it was natural
+to listen to the two speakers restored to her a little of her waning
+self-respect. A wave of peace crept into her soul. Social distinctions
+seemed very small when coupled with the thought of that divinity so
+lightly discussed and rejected in this pretty drawing-room. A movement
+at her side interrupted her thoughts. Claud had moved to the seat next
+her.
+
+"I wonder how you like Belfont in 'The Taming of the Shrew?'" he said,
+as though purposely to turn her attention from what she could not avoid
+hearing.
+
+It was done, as she had learnt that all his graceful little acts were
+done, with a complete show of unconsciousness; but her gratitude made
+her answering look radiant with the vivid expression which was to him so
+irresistible.
+
+Yet, even as she met his kind eyes, she experienced a pang. Why was this
+man placed out of her reach--this one man whose sympathies were so
+wonderfully akin to her own? He could interpret her very thoughts; the
+least thing that jarred upon her seemed to distress him also.
+
+"You were out, when I called," said he, after a few minutes.
+
+She could find nothing more striking in reply than a bare "Yes."
+
+"I saw your brother," he went on, diffidently. "Did he mention our
+conversation to you?"
+
+"No; that is, nothing particular."
+
+"Ah! I was afraid I had put my foot into it," said Claud, taking up the
+black lace fan from her knee and playing with it.
+
+"What did you say?" asked the girl, with eager anxiety.
+
+"It was a thankless task--one usually burns one's own fingers by trying
+to meddle with other people's affairs; but I thought," said the young
+man, "as I had seen a good deal of Allonby last summer, that I would be
+doing him a good turn if I let him know the state of affairs?"
+
+"The state of affairs?"
+
+"Yes: with regard to my friend Percivale and Miss Brabourne. You see,
+she knew nothing and nobody when your brother spoke to her last summer.
+It was unfortunate ... but it could not be helped ... the long and short
+of it is, however, that I am afraid she has changed her mind."
+
+Wynifred controlled herself; after all, it was only a definite statement
+of what she had known must be the case.
+
+"You--told Osmond this?" she faltered.
+
+"I tried to; I daresay I bungled; anyhow he took it in very bad part.
+Said it was a pity for outsiders to meddle in these things, especially
+when they were so imperfectly informed."
+
+"Oh!"
+
+"I daresay it was entirely my fault; but I thought, in case he had been
+abusing me, that I must justify myself with you.... I mean, I want you
+to believe that my motive was kind."
+
+"I do believe it."
+
+How thankful she felt that the room was full of people! Had they been
+alone she must have broken down. As it was, he must see that her eyes
+were full of tears; and, had her life depended upon it, she could not
+have helped answering his tender gaze of sympathy with such a look as
+she had never given him before. It was a look of utter, defenceless
+weakness--a look of girlish helplessness--it sent his heart knocking
+wildly against his side. He drew his breath in sharply, through his set
+teeth. Had there been no audience he would have tried his fate there and
+then.
+
+Surely it was the subdued woman's heart that appealed to him from those
+pathetic eyes. Ah, would she only overlook his inadequacy, his
+short-comings, and let him be to her what an inner consciousness told
+him that he alone could! He sat gazing at her, oblivious for the moment
+of his surroundings; she scattered his dream by a hurried question--the
+eloquent silence was more than she could bear.
+
+"Forgive my asking,--but--is anything decided yet?"
+
+"I think you have every right to know as much as I do of the matter.
+Percivale proposed to her last night, and was accepted. Of course,
+nothing can be announced until the Misses Willoughby sanction the
+engagement. He has written this afternoon; but I cannot imagine that any
+difficulty will be made on their part; he is so altogether
+unexceptionable."
+
+As he spoke, a door opposite them opened, and Elsa appeared in the
+doorway. She was smiling--her soft dreamy smile--and her hands were full
+of flowers. Her lover was just behind her, his face aglow with happiness
+and satisfaction. They came in together; a sudden shade dropped over
+Elsa's face as her eyes met those of Wynifred. A slight color rose to
+her cheeks, and she hesitated.
+
+Wynifred rose, went forward, shook hands, and inquired after the Misses
+Willoughby in a perfectly natural manner; but she failed to reassure the
+girl, who answered hurriedly, with a look of guilty consciousness, and
+escaped as soon as she possibly could to the other side of the room.
+
+"It is very natural," said Wyn, with a sad little smile to Claud, "that
+she should be shy of me; but she need not. I do not blame her in the
+least; if anyone is to blame in the matter it is poor Osmond. I fancy he
+is likely to suffer pretty severely for his imprudence."
+
+"Miss Allonby," said Lady Mabel, approaching with the young man she had
+been talking to, "I want to introduce you to a most interesting person
+to take you down to dinner. He is an esoteric Buddhist--so earnest and
+devoted, as well as intensely enlightened. Mr. Kleber--Miss Allonby."
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XLIII.
+
+    No man ever lived and loved, that longed not,
+    Once, and only once, and for one only,--
+    Ah, the prize!--to give his love a language.
+
+    _One Word More._
+
+
+At an earlier period in her career, the esoteric Buddhist would have
+amused Wynifred beyond measure. She would have regarded him as material
+for a sketch of character, and drawn him out with such intent; but she
+was past this, to-night.
+
+She had burst all barriers--all care for her professional career was
+gone; she recked nothing of whether she ever again wrote a line, or not;
+everything which made up the sum of her daily existence was forgotten,
+or if remembered seemed poor, trivial, unimportant, beside the present
+fact of Claud sitting at the foot of the table, with the spiritualist
+poetess on his right and a lady politician on his left, each talking
+across him without intermission, as it seemed, and sometimes evidently
+amusing him, for he smiled a pre-occupied smile from time to time. But
+ever his eyelids were lifted to where sat the pale girl in black
+separated from him as far as circumstances permitted, eclipsed and
+blotted out by the vivid color of the young actress who sat near her,
+and by the regal beauty of Elsa opposite.
+
+Usually, Wynifred easily held her own among women with twice
+her charms, by the spell of her conversation; but to-night she was
+silent--abstracted--trying to give her best attention to her neighbor,
+but with ears stretched to catch the accents of the low, hearty Irish
+voice at the end of the table. Lady Mabel, who had heard something of
+the girl's brilliancy, was quite cast down. Wyn absolutely declined the
+_r�le_ of Authoress to-night, and was almost stupid in some of her
+answers, avowing that she did not believe in the astral fluid, and
+getting hopelessly wrecked on the subject of Avatars, which dimly
+recalled to her mind Browning's poem, "What's become of Waring?"
+
+When the move was made, and the ladies rose from table, it was almost
+with a pang that she left the room in which Claud remained. She dared
+not lift her eyes to his, as he stood holding back the door for them to
+file out, yet the bent, shy head inspired in him a hope unfelt before.
+Was consciousness awake at last;--that consciousness which for his own
+amusement he had tried to stir at Edge, and which had annoyed him so
+greatly by falling to sleep again and declining to be roused? A dream of
+utter personal happiness enfolded him, and made him a more negligent
+host than was his wont; and, as Percivale too was aching to be in the
+drawing-room, the male contingent soon made their appearance, to the
+delight of the ladies and the chagrin of the professional gentlemen, who
+most of them found a good deal of wine necessary to support their
+enormous and continuous brain-efforts.
+
+But no further word with Miss Allonby was possible for Claud.
+
+A sudden suspicion had flashed across the mind of Lady Mabel--dismissed
+as unlikely, but still leaving just enough weight to make her determine
+that no unnecessary words should pass between them. She did not like
+Wynifred, and she had never imagined for a moment that her brother did,
+until to-night. Even now she was by no means sure of it; only Claud
+seemed abstracted and unlike himself. She dexterously kept him employed
+with first one person, then another, using the same tactics with the
+girl, until the cruelly short evening was past, and Wynifred had to rise
+and make her adieux, feeling something as if she had been through a
+surgical operation--that it was over--and that she was living still.
+
+Never would she visit that house again, she truly vowed, as she dragged
+her tired limbs upstairs. This was the limit of her endurance. Not any
+motive, whether of self-interest, or of foolish, worse than foolish
+infatuation, should drag her there. As she came down Claud stood in the
+hall at the foot of the staircase, waiting.
+
+"Are you driving home alone, Miss Allonby?"
+
+"Yes; I could not ask Osmond to fetch me from this house, could I? But I
+am not nervous, thank you."
+
+"But I am, for you. Will you not allow me to come with you?"
+
+Now, if ever, must be the moment of strength--now one last effort of
+self-command. Let the heart which is bleeding to cry, "Come!" be
+silenced--let maidenly pride step in. What! allow Claud Cranmer to drive
+home with you when you are in this mood--when one kind word would draw
+the weak tears in floods--oh, never, never, never!
+
+"Come with me, Mr. Cranmer? On no account, thank you,"--a chilly manner,
+a spice of surprise at the offer. "It will break up your sister's party.
+Good-night."
+
+At the same moment the drawing-room door above opened quickly, and Lady
+Mabel's voice was heard.
+
+"Henry! is Mr. Cranmer there? I want him."
+
+"You see," said Wynifred, with a little smile. "Good-night again."
+
+She was gone.
+
+A moment later, and the tears had come--had gushed freely as the rain.
+Alone in the London cab, the girl bowed herself together in the
+extremity of her pain. It was no use to argue or ask herself why; only
+she felt as if all were over. Had she done right? Was it indeed wise to
+be so proud? Was it possible that really, after all, he loved her as she
+loved him? If so, how she must have hurt him by her cold refusal! And
+yet--yet--the sons of earls do not marry girls in Wynifred's position.
+Better a broken heart than humiliation, she cried bitterly. Did not the
+warning of poor Osmond's hideous delusion loom up darkly before her?
+
+Yet where was the comfort of right-doing? Nowhere. If this were right,
+she had rather a thousand times that she had done wrong. Oh, to have him
+there beside her, on any terms--recklessly to enjoy the delight of his
+presence, caring not what came after. So low does love degrade? she
+questioned.
+
+After a few minutes, her wildness was a little calmed. An appeal had
+gone up to the God Who, in Lady Mabel's creed, was powerless to save,
+yet the thought of Whom seemed the only remedy for this misery; she felt
+anew that she was in reality neither reckless nor degraded, only worn
+out, mind and body.
+
+The cause of her wild longing for Claud was as much the feminine desire
+to rest on the strength of a masculine nature as the weaker yearning to
+be loved. With Osmond she had been always the supporter, never the
+supported; to the girls she had been forced to stand in the light of
+father and mother, as well as sister; and it had come to be a family
+tradition that Wyn was indifferent to anything in the shape of a
+love-affair--impervious as far as she herself was concerned, though
+sympathetic enough in the vicissitudes of others.
+
+It seemed, indeed, a hard dispensation both for brother and sister that,
+when at last their jealously-guarded and seldom-spent store of sentiment
+found an object, it should be in each case an object out of reach.
+
+It seemed to Wynifred as if to-night a climax was reached. The point had
+come when she could bear no more; she could do nothing but sit and
+suffer, with a keenness of which a year ago she had not deemed herself
+capable.
+
+Mansfield Road was reached at last.
+
+Somewhat to her surprise, lights were in the dining-room window, and, as
+the wheels of her vehicle stopped, a hand drew aside the blind, and,
+some one looked eagerly out. Almost at once the hall door was flung
+open, and Wynifred painfully conscious of red and swollen eyelids,
+walked slowly in.
+
+Osmond was holding back the door with such a pleasant, happy smile, as
+drove a fresh knife into her heart. Was she to be the messenger to dash
+his cup of joy from his lips, and tell him that his hopes lay in ruins
+all around him? She felt that it was impossible--at least, yet; and,
+before she had time to think more, Hilda's voice broke in from the
+dining-room:
+
+"Is that you, Wyn? Do come in--there's some news--guess what has
+happened! Osmond and I waited up to tell you."
+
+She walked in, feeling stiff, mazed, and as though the familiar room was
+strange to her. Sally, who was also standing by, participating in the
+general excitement, burst out--
+
+"Bless me, Miss Wyn, whatever is the matter? You look like a ghost!"
+
+"I am tired, Sally--dead beat--that is the only expression that conveys
+my meaning. I told you I was done up before I started, did I not?... I
+shall be--well again to-morrow. What is the news?"
+
+Hilda's eyes were soft and almost tearful.
+
+"Can't you guess?" she said.
+
+Wyn flashed a look round, noting Jac's absence.
+
+"Jac!" she said, involuntarily.
+
+"She would not stay up to tell you herself," smiled Hilda.
+
+"Not--oh, Hilda, not--Mr. Haldane?"
+
+"Yes; they are engaged," said Osmond, brightly. "It will be a wrench, at
+first, to lose Jacqueline out of the house; but think what a match it
+will be for her! Such a delightful fellow! Ah, Wyn, I am not too selfish
+to be able to rejoice in their happiness. They have nothing to wait for!
+He can well afford to be married to-morrow, if it please him. She is a
+fortunate girl!"
+
+"She deserves it!" cried Hilda, loyally. "Oh, Wyn, they are so
+deliciously in love with one another!"
+
+In the midst of this family sensation, Wyn could not bear to launch her
+thunderbolt. To destroy, at a word, all Osmond's peace was more than she
+felt herself equal to. The little drop of balm seemed to blunt for a few
+minutes the keen edge of her own pain.
+
+In Jac's little room, with her arms about the pliant young form, and the
+blooming head hidden in her neck, she could feel for the time almost
+happy in the hushed intensity of the girl's love.
+
+It was what the others had longed for, but scarcely dared to hope. In
+fact, much as she liked young Haldane, Wynifred had never encouraged his
+visits much, for fear of breaking Jacqueline's heart. But now all was
+right. The young man had chosen for love, and not for gain. Jacqueline
+would be a member of one of the oldest county families in England. No
+wonder that the engagement shed a treacherous beam of unfounded hope
+over Osmond's path. If Ted Haldane could marry for love, other people
+equally exalted might do the same.
+
+For a few hours he must go on in his fool's Paradise. Wynifred _could
+not_ speak the words which should wake him from his dream.
+
+All night long she lay with eyes wide open to the winter moonlight,
+watching the pale stars hang motionless in the dark soft sky, bright
+things which every eye may gaze upon, but no man may approach. Their
+measureless distance weighed upon her as if to crush her. A leaden clamp
+seemed bound round her aching temples. To live was to suffer, yet the
+relief of sleep was unattainable. Faster and faster the thoughts whirled
+through her tortured brain. There was no power to stop them. Over and
+over again she lived through the events of last evening; over and over
+again she heard each word that Claud had uttered; again she saw the open
+doorway, the regal girl with her flowers, her lips curved with laughter,
+her lover attendant at her side. One after the other the pictures chased
+each other through her mind, in never-ending succession, till it seemed
+as if she must go mad. There was no respite, no moment of blissful
+unconsciousness till the laggard January dawn had come, and Sally was
+filling her bath with the customary morning splash.
+
+It seemed a bitter irony. Was this morning, then, like any other
+morning, that the habits and customs of the house were to go on as
+usual?
+
+"Am I to get up?" asked she, in a dazed way. "Why yes, of course. I must
+get up, I suppose."
+
+"Ain't you well, Miss Wyn?" queried Sally, in a doubtful voice.
+
+"Not quite, Sal. I have been working too hard, I think. But now I
+remember, I must get up, for my proofs are not corrected. When they are
+finished, I think--I think that I must take a little rest."
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XLIV.
+
+                                  Unwise
+    I loved and was lowly, loved and aspired,
+    Loved, grieving or glad, till I made you mad,
+    And you meant to have hated and despised,
+    Whereas you deceived me, nor inquired.
+
+    _The Worst of It._
+
+
+It was the second morning after Lady Mabel's dinner-party. Claud and his
+niece sat together in the morning-room, discussing the affairs of the
+nation. A large picture-book was spread out across the young lady's
+knees, and her most serious attention was being bestowed on a picture of
+Joseph in the pit, which subject her uncle elucidated by a commentary
+not exactly remarkable for Scriptural accuracy.
+
+He was preoccupied and bothered, and did not find the child's chatter so
+engrossing as usual, for he had many things on his mind.
+
+There came an imperative knocking at the street door. He heard it, but
+without any particular anxiety. No visitor would penetrate into Mab's
+sanctum. It was not until the steps of the butler sounded along the
+tiled passage outside that he leaped to his feet with Kathleen in his
+arms, acutely conscious of the shabbiness of his brown velvet
+morning-coat.
+
+There was a sharp rap on the door, then it was thrown broadly open, and
+in the aperture appeared the sturdy square figure, sun-browned face, and
+grizzled hair of Henry Fowler.
+
+"Any admittance?" said his kind voice, cheerily. "I wouldn't let the
+good gentleman outside announce me. I think he took me for a country
+farmer, come to pay his respects--and he might have made a worse guess.
+How are you, my lad, how are you?"
+
+Claud had swooped upon him, dragged him in, shut the door, and now
+stood shaking the two firm hands in their tawny doe-skin gloves as
+though he would shake them off.
+
+"If anything in the world could make me feel good-tempered at this
+moment, it's the sight of you!" he cried, joyously. "Where did you
+spring from? What brought you up? How long can you stay? Tell me
+everything. This is a surprise of the right sort, and no mistake!"
+
+"Not so very surprising, is it?" asked Henry, as he drew a letter in
+Percivale's unmistakable hand from his breast-pocket. "I thought I must
+come and settle this in person. I am the Misses Willoughby's delegate."
+
+"Capital! Don't care what brings you. I only know how glad I am to see
+you."
+
+"Not more so than I to see you, my lad. You don't look as well, though,
+as you did when you left Lower House. You must come down again as soon
+as ever you can get free of dissipations. Your chair still looks vacant
+at table, and your horse is eating his head off in the stable. George
+took him for a gallop the other day, and managed to lame him slightly.
+'Eh,' says he, 'there'll be the devil to pay when Mr. Cranmer comes
+down!' So you see you're expected any time."
+
+"How good that sounds!" cried Claud, sitting on the table and swinging
+his legs boyishly. "Ah, I would like to be there at this minute! You
+have had some fine seas rolling up in Brent Bay, I'll go bail! I fancy I
+can still feel the salt sting of that sou'-wester we faced together. And
+the excitement in which the _Swan_ made her _d�but_!"
+
+"Ay! That storm had consequences we little recked of," said Henry,
+thoughtfully fingering the letter in his hand. "To think of little Elsa!
+Well! Miss Ellen always said so. She was right, as usual. She is a woman
+of talent, is Miss Ellen, as well as being a saint on earth. But now,
+Claud, tell me, how have matters been arranged? I am an old stager, you
+see, and doubtless I don't march with the times; but this seems to me to
+be a very rapid business! 'Off with the old love and on with the new!'
+What has become of young Allonby? Has he quitted the lists, or how has
+he been disposed of?"
+
+Claud put his hands over his ears with a gesture of despair.
+
+"You may as well not waste your breath," he cried, in mock anger, "for
+not one word shall you get out of me on the subject of Miss Brabourne's
+love-affairs! I am sick of it! From morn till dewy eve do I hear of
+nothing else! It is my sister's one topic of conversation, and Percivale
+talks of it unceasingly! He has been here already once this morning
+pestering me to go with him to get her a necklace, or a plaything, or
+something! I'm hanged if I do! I have nothing to do with the
+matter--what's more, it doesn't interest me much! And now you come, on
+the top of everyone else, and gravely ask my opinion, or advice, or
+anything you please. Seriously, Fowler, you must excuse me; I will have
+nothing to say in the young lady's affairs, either to meddle or make. It
+is no business of mine whether she marries you, or the prime minister,
+or a crossing-sweeper, or anyone she chooses. I have worries enough of
+my own without puzzling over her the whole day long!"
+
+"Poor fellow! Are you worried?" asked Henry, kindly, looking doubtfully
+at him. "You should come and live with me--I am sure the life would suit
+you. I have just lost my overseer--Preston--you remember him! His work
+would do admirably for you, young man--much better than lounging about
+up here in London in hot rooms, doing nothing."
+
+"Doing nothing? I am minding the baby," said Claud, lightly, but the
+color flew to his fair face and he looked confused. "It is no good
+trying to reform me," he said, after a moment, his hot cheek against
+Kathleen's floss-silk curls; "I am an incorrigible idler."
+
+"I never knew a man less idle by disposition than you are," was the
+answer, as Henry regarded him with a look at once wistful and
+disapproving.
+
+"You're not thinking of getting married, then?" he asked, after an
+interval.
+
+"Married--I? No," stammered Claud, incoherently, as he rose, set the
+child on the rug, and walked to the window.
+
+There was a short, uncomfortable silence. Henry's puzzled gaze still
+followed the young man. At last, as if resigning the subject in hand as
+hopeless, he asked, abruptly:
+
+"Where's Elsa?"
+
+"Miss Brabourne? Oh, in bed."
+
+"In bed? Is she ill? You should have told me."
+
+"Oh, dear no, she is not ill. These are merely fashionable habits.
+Percivale thought, like you, that she must be ill; I had great
+difficulty in restraining him from rushing up to obtain the latest
+bulletin."
+
+"But--your sister--the butler said she was out!"
+
+"Oh, my sister is an early riser. She always breakfasts at eight."
+
+"So used Elsa--she was the soul of punctuality."
+
+"A compulsory punctuality, perhaps?"
+
+"Well--I suppose so; but why--what on earth can induce her to stay in
+bed till this hour?"
+
+"I am sure I don't know. Perhaps it is to take care of her complexion."
+
+"Take care of her complexion!... The child must have altered
+strangely----"
+
+"No; I don't think she has altered much; she has merely developed."
+
+As he spoke, the door was flung open, and Miss Brabourne, in her
+riding-habit, entered.
+
+"Lady Mabel, my horse is late again----" the frown died away from the
+pretty forehead, the great blue eyes grew wide with surprise.
+
+"God-father!"
+
+"Well, god-daughter! Are you surprised? Not more than I am. My little
+girl is a woman of fashion now!"
+
+"Oh, how can you? Poor little me," said the girl, with an affected
+little laugh which jarred upon his nerves. "I am so pleased to see you!
+Are you come to stay here?"
+
+"Of course," put in Claud, hurriedly.
+
+"Thanks, Elsie, I shall perhaps be in town for a few days, but I prefer
+my own old room at the Langham."
+
+"My sister won't hear of such a thing," urged Claud.
+
+"Lady Mabel is more than kind, but I am an old bachelor, and I like my
+liberty. And so, Elsie, you are very well and blooming?"
+
+"Oh, very, very! I am enjoying myself so much here!"
+
+"I have a great deal to say to you, but you are going out now, I see?"
+
+"Yes," she said, composedly, "I am going out now, but of course you will
+stay to lunch, and I shall see you afterwards. Mr. Cranmer, did you see
+Mr. Percivale?"
+
+"Yes; he was very disappointed not to see you."
+
+"He should not come before lunch. I must tell him so; he might know I
+should not be visible," said Percivale's betrothed, coolly.
+
+The butler appeared.
+
+"Captain and Miss St. Quentin are at the door, and your horse is round,
+miss."
+
+"At last!" She caught up her gold-tipped riding-whip with her
+gauntletted hand, and waved it merrily at her god father. "I am going
+for a gallop round the Park with the St. Quentins, and then I shall see
+you again," she cried. "Mr. Cranmer, come and mount me, please, the
+groom is so awkward." She paused a moment at the door. "I have a great
+deal to tell you," said she, nodding, "so mind you are here on my
+return! I must not keep my friends waiting."
+
+She was gone.
+
+Mechanically Mr. Fowler went out into the hall and looked. Through the
+open door the gay winter sunshine shone on the glossy horses and the
+young, well-dressed riders. Claud helped the heiress to her saddle,
+gathered up the reins, gave them into her hands, bowed, patted the
+mare's glossy neck, and the party started away.
+
+"She never asked after her aunts," Mr. Fowler was reflecting. "Not one
+word. And they brought her up."
+
+Claud hardly liked to meet his eye as he returned slowly up the hall.
+His sympathy for the elder man was at that moment deep and intense.
+Henry had never been blind to Elsa's failings, but had always ascribed
+them to her bringing-up, and believed that, in a more genial atmosphere,
+they would vanish; that, when treated with love, the girl would grow
+loving. She had always in old days been so fond of him, clung to him,
+cried at his departure. He forgot that at that time his was the only
+notice she ever received, whereas now she had more notice from everyone
+than she knew what to do with. Collecting himself with an effort, he
+turned to Claud.
+
+"I have some business I must see after just now," he said. "Am I likely
+to find Lady Mabel if I come about five?"
+
+Claud thought it was kinder to let him go for the present. He had
+forgotten with what suddenness the change in the girl would come upon
+one who had not seen her for some months.
+
+Henry left the house in a reverie so deep that he walked on, hardly
+knowing where. He was mystified, staggered, what the French call
+_boulevers�_. If a girl could so develop in a few months, what would she
+be in another year? Was it safe to let anyone marry such an
+extraordinary uncertainty? The problem was no nearer to being solved
+when he discovered that it was past two o'clock. Sensible of the pangs
+of a country appetite, he went to a restaurant, lunched leisurely, and
+then decided that it was not too early to present himself at Mansfield
+Road for a morning call.
+
+It was strange how his spirits rose and his thoughts grew more agreeable
+as he walked briskly on. It was so pleasant to think that he was going
+to see Wynifred. Of course she might, and very probably would, be out;
+but he should not be discouraged. He meant to see her; if not to-day,
+then to-morrow; and he was a person who resolved seldom and firmly.
+
+The aspect of the little house pleased him. The small garden strip was
+black and bare with winter, but indoors through the window could be seen
+a row of hyacinths in bloom, and a warm curtain of dull red serge was
+drawn across the hall, visible through the glass lights of the front
+door.
+
+With a glow of pleasurable anticipation, he applied his hand to the
+knocker. Before he had time to breathe, the red curtain was torn aside,
+a girl had darted forward, seized the handle, and ejaculating, "Well?"
+in a tone as if her very life depended on the answer, fell back in
+confused recognition and apology.
+
+It was Wynifred--but what a Wynifred! She looked all eyes. Her face was
+sheet-white, her hair thrust back in disorder from her forehead; her
+expression conveyed the idea of such suffering that her visitor's very
+heart was riven.
+
+"Mr.--Fowler," she said, faintly. "Oh, I beg your pardon. Come in. We
+are in--trouble."
+
+He closed the door, tossed his stick into a corner, and, taking both the
+girl's hands, drew her into the little dining-room.
+
+"Miss Allonby," he said, in tones whose affectionate warmth was in
+itself a comfort--"Miss Allonby, if you are in trouble, I must help you.
+I have come at the right moment. Now, what is it? Do you feel able to
+tell me?"
+
+She sank upon a chair, turning her quivering face away out of his sight.
+
+"Oh!" she said, "how can I tell you? How can I? It is all so miserable,
+so.... What a way to receive you!... You must have thought me mad."
+
+"I thought nothing of the kind. I could see that you were utterly
+over-wrought. For pity's sake, don't make apologies--don't treat me as
+if I were a stranger. Tell me what the trouble is."
+
+She lifted her eyes, the lashes drowned in tears that could not fall.
+
+"I will show you, I think," said she. "Come."
+
+Rising, she hastily went out, he following, expecting he knew not what.
+She led him into the studio.
+
+It was a fair-sized room, built out behind the small house. Usually it
+was a charming place. Girlish fingers had arranged quaint pottery and
+artistic draperies--placing lamps in dark corners, flowers in vases, and
+tinting the shabby furniture with color. The piano stood there, and near
+the fire a well-worn sofa, and two or three capacious wicker chairs.
+
+To-day a nameless desolation overspread the very air. Mr. Fowler
+entered, and looked straight before him. An enormous canvas was mounted
+on a screw easel in the best light the room afforded. The landscape had
+been put in with masterly freedom, and was almost finished. But a hole a
+foot square gaped in the centre of the picture, and the canvas was
+hacked and torn away in strips, some lying on the floor beneath. Near
+this ruin was a gilt frame, the portrait from which had been slit clean
+out, torn across and across, and left in fragments. So all round the
+room. Picture after picture had been torn from the wall, and dashed to
+the ground as if by a frenzied hand. A pile of delicate water-color
+studies on paper lay in the grate half charred, wholly destroyed. The
+whole scene was one of utter and hopeless wreckage. The mischief was
+irremediable.
+
+The visitor uttered an exclamation of consternation. "What does it
+mean?" he asked.
+
+"I don't think I ought to tell you," said the girl, who was standing
+against the wall as if for support, her head thrown back, her eyes
+raised as if to avoid seeing the desolation which surrounded her.
+
+"Nonsense. You _must_ tell me," said Henry, bluntly.
+
+Slowly she took a letter from her pocket, went forward, and laid it on a
+table which stood near the centre of the room. The table was heaped with
+a confusion of brushes, tubes of color, palette knives, varnish bottles,
+and mugs of turpentine, all of which had been pushed hastily together,
+that the letter might occupy a prominent position by itself.
+
+"When I went to call my brother this morning," said Wyn, obeying his
+mandate as if she could not help herself, "I could not make him hear. At
+last I went in. He was not in his room; he had not been to bed at all.
+It seemed to give me a terrible shock: I--I--partly guessed ... I knew I
+ought to have told him; but I...."
+
+"Don't reproach yourself--go straight on," said Henry, anxiously.
+
+"I rushed down here: for he has done such a thing as sit up all night.
+He was gone; the room was as you see it. That letter was on the table."
+
+He possessed himself of the envelope. It was hastily scrawled on the
+outside in pencil, "For Wynifred." In a tremor of apprehension, he drew
+out the enclosure. It was in Elsa's hand-writing.
+
+     "DEAR MR. ALLONBY,
+
+     "I am afraid this letter will make you very angry, and this makes
+     me sorry to write, as I have always liked you so much, ever since I
+     knew you. But I think I ought to let you know that I have found out
+     that I do not love you well enough to marry you some day, as you
+     hoped. I am engaged to be married to Mr. Percivale, who was so kind
+     and good when everyone else thought that I had killed my brother. I
+     hope this will not disappoint you too much, and that we shall
+     always be friends. I send my love to your sisters, and remain,
+
+     "Yours sincerely,
+
+     "ELAINE BRADBOURNE.
+
+     "P.S.--You see I had not seen Mr. Percivale when I said I would
+     marry you."
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XLV.
+
+    Now I may speak; you fool, for all
+    Your lore! WHO made things plain in vain?
+    What was the sea for? What the grey
+    Sad church, that solitary day,
+    Crosses and graves, and swallows call?
+
+    Was there nought better them to enjoy,
+    No feat which, done, would make time break
+    And let us pent-up creatures through
+    Into eternity, our due?
+
+    _Dis aliter visum._
+
+
+At this letter Mr. Fowler stared, as though some magnetic power rivetted
+his eyes to the sheet.
+
+At last he slowly lifted his gaze, to fix it on Wyn.
+
+"Is this the only intimation--the only explanation she has given him?"
+
+The girl assented.
+
+"It is my fault," she said, huskily. "I knew it two days ago, Mr.
+Cranmer told me, but I had not the heart nor the strength to tell
+Osmond; I could not!"
+
+"It is monstrous, heartless. I cannot understand it," he said, in a
+harassed voice. "Something should be done--she should be made to feel--I
+think Percivale should see this letter!"
+
+"Oh, no! No! You must not think of such a thing!" Leaping up, the girl
+caught the letter from his hand. "It is not her fault--not her fault--it
+was poor Osmond's!... What she says is true. She had seen no one when he
+spoke to her. She did not understand what it meant! Her mind was like a
+child's--unformed. She could not have remained as she was then. It is
+natural, it is what I felt would come."
+
+"But this unnatural, insolent brevity!" cried Henry, indignantly. "See
+here: 'To be married, as _you_ hoped.' 'I hope _you_ will not be
+disappointed.' Nothing of what it costs her to write and own her change
+of feeling. I call it intolerable."
+
+"Oh, it is better so! Better any brevity, however crude, than hollow
+professions, or--or useless regret. You must not blame her, please, Mr.
+Fowler. It will be all right soon, as soon as I hear that he is safe,"
+panted poor Wyn, biting her pale lips.
+
+"How can you take her part, here in the ruin she has caused?" demanded
+Henry, fiercely.
+
+"She did not cause it. I will be just," said Wyn, faintly but firmly.
+"Osmond has deluded himself. She never loved him--he should have known
+it. She had forgotten him in a month. She never came here, never wrote
+to us, never took any steps to renew the intimacy, yet he would go on,
+hugging his folly, though I told him what it would be."
+
+Even in his agitation he had time for a passing feeling of fervent
+admiration for the woman who could be just at such a crisis.
+
+"I will spend no more time in lamenting over spilt milk," he said, "but
+see if I cannot help you, Miss Wynifred. I suppose your brother's
+absence is the chief trouble?"
+
+She answered by a movement of the head.
+
+"What steps have you taken?"
+
+"Mr. Haldane, who is engaged to Jacqueline, has gone to Scotland Yard. I
+thought it was his knock when you came--that was why I went to the door.
+The girls are gone together to telegraph to a friend of his who lives in
+a little remote village; he sometimes goes there, we thought it was
+possible he might have done so to-day."
+
+"Just so; then you have no idea of where he went, or what he meant to
+do?"
+
+"None at all. Oh," she began to shiver nervously, "you do not think he
+has--do you? People do such fearful things sometimes ... and he is one
+of those gentle, passive men, with a terrible temper when once he is
+roused; you can tell, by this room, what a state of mind he was in. I
+knew it would be so! I said, if she failed him, he would never do a
+stroke of work again. Oh, if that were really to be true!"
+
+She gave a cry of helpless pain.
+
+"Say you don't think he has done it!" she gasped.
+
+"I am sure he has not. He is a brave man and a Christian. No man who had
+your love left to him would take his own life," cried Henry,
+incoherently. "Keep up your courage, Miss Wyn, you have so much nerve."
+
+"Not now--not now. It has gone. Come away, come out of this room, I
+cannot bear it, it stifles me."
+
+She moved uncertainly towards the door, almost as if she were groping.
+
+"My head aches till I can scarcely see," faltered she, apologetically.
+
+His eyes were fixed apprehensively on the slight figure which moved
+before him. Just as she reached the dining-room door, she swayed
+helplessly. It was well that the sturdy Henry, with his iron muscles,
+was behind her. He took her in his arms as if she had been a little
+baby, laid her on the sofa, and fetched the water from the sideboard.
+Her faint was deeper, however, than he had anticipated, and, after ten
+minutes of absolute unconsciousness, he was constrained to go to the top
+of the kitchen stairs and call Sally.
+
+"Fainted again, has she?" said the good woman, grimly. "I knew she
+would. She's overdone, is Miss Wyn, and this here nonsense of Master
+Osmond's has been the finishing touch. Don't talk to me! He's no right
+to go off like that, nor to carry on like a madman because he's
+disappointed. But men are poor things, and he don't know nor care what
+he makes his sisters suffer. Here I comes down this morning to see Miss
+Wyn fainted dead off in the middle of all that rummage on the studio
+floor; and I can tell you, sir, it give me a turn, for I thought, from
+the state of the room, as somebody had been a-murdering of her. Dear,
+dear, she is dead off. I suppose you couldn't carry her upstairs, sir,
+could you?"
+
+"Half-a-dozen of her weight," said Henry, laconically.
+
+"My pretty dear, my lamb," said Sal, pushing up the heavy hair. "She do
+look ill, don't she, sir?"
+
+"Very," said Henry, speaking as well as he could for the lump in his
+throat. "I am horrified at her. Let me take her upstairs. You had better
+put her straight to bed."
+
+He lifted the unconscious girl in his strong, tender arms, and carried
+her up, directed by Sally, into the little room which was her own.
+Reluctantly he laid her down on the bed, looking with pitiful love upon
+the whiteness of the thin sweet face. How much would he have given to
+kiss the pure line of the pathetic mouth! How far away out of his reach
+she seemed, this pale, hard-working girl whom other men passed unnoticed
+by. One cold hand he lifted to his lips, and held it there lingeringly a
+moment.
+
+"Now," said he to Sally, "I will go and fetch the doctor, if you will
+direct me. She must have every care, and at once."
+
+From leaving a message with the doctor, he went straight to his hotel.
+
+The sudden rush of events had somewhat confused him, and he could not
+tell what was best to be done. It seemed no use to go hunting for
+Osmond, when his sisters did not possess the slightest clue to his
+whereabouts. Yet he had an uneasy conviction that it might go badly with
+Wynifred if it could not be proved that her brother was alive and safe,
+and he would cut off his right hand to serve her.
+
+Oh reaching his sitting-room, the fragrance of a cigar assailed his
+senses, and, not much to his surprise, he discovered Claud, ensconced in
+a deep arm-chair near the fire.
+
+"Just thinking of going to the police-station after you," said the young
+gentleman, composedly. "Thought you were lost in London."
+
+Henry did not answer. Approaching the fire, he slowly divested himself
+of his heavy overcoat and gloves. Claud, flashing a look at him, caught
+the expression of his face.
+
+"You take it too seriously, Fowler," said he.
+
+"Oh, I take it too seriously, do I? You know all about it, of course.
+After the intimacy which existed between you and Miss Allonby in the
+summer--after the exceptional circumstances which brought you together,
+you would naturally take a great interest in her, and go to see her
+frequently; but I hardly think you would be likely to say I took matters
+too seriously."
+
+"Fowler! Miss Allonby!"
+
+The young man sat forward, thoroughly startled, his cigar expiring
+unheeded between his fingers.
+
+"What do you mean?" he asked, breathlessly.
+
+"Mean? That I am disappointed in you, Cranmer. Yes, disappointed. I
+don't care in the least if I offend you, sir--I have passed beyond
+conventionalities. You have missed what should have been your
+goal--missed it by aimless trifling, by this accursed modern habit of
+introspection, of tearing a passion to tatters, of holding off and
+counting the cost of what you want to do, till the moment to do it has
+gone by. Sir, there comes an instant to every man in his life, when the
+only clean and honorable course is to go straight forward, even if that
+be to incur responsibility--why, in Heaven's name, tell me, are we not
+born to be responsible? Isn't that the pride of our manhood? Do you call
+yourself a man, living as you live now, without aim, without cares,
+getting through your life anyhow? It is the life of a cur, I tell
+you--ignoble, unmanly, base."
+
+"I am prepared to stand a good deal from you, Fowler," said Claud, very
+white, "but I will ask you kindly to explain yourself more fully."
+
+"You understand me well enough, lad," said the elder man, with a stern
+straight glance which somehow sent a consciousness of shortcoming into
+his victim's mind; "but, as I have taken upon myself to open this
+subject, I'll say out frankly all that's in my mind. Do you suppose
+blind chance took you to Edge Combe this summer? Do you suppose a mere
+accident placed near you such a woman as--I speak her name with all
+reverence--Wynifred Allonby? Now listen to me. She was no pretty,
+shallow girl, to catch the eye of any idle young fellow. Hers was a
+charm that only a few could feel; and, Claud, _you felt it_. Don't deny
+it, sir. You knew what she was; you could appreciate to its utmost the
+beauty of her mind, and the strange charm of her personality. Do you
+suppose it is for nothing that God Almighty gives such sympathy as that?
+Now hear me further. She needed you, she was lonely, she was poor. She
+wanted a man to stand between her and the world, to afford her
+opportunity to unfold the hidden tenderness that was in her, and give
+her a chance to be the gentle loving woman God meant her for. Was not
+your mission plain? Yet you would not read it--and why? For reasons
+which were one and all contemptible. I say downright contemptible. She
+was not rich, she was not precisely in your rank of society. Your
+self-indulgent selfishness winced at the prospect of a life of work for
+her sake. So you put aside the chance of an undreamed-of happiness which
+lay there clear before your eyes. And I say you should be made to feel
+it. Strip off all your self-delusions, all your sophistry, and tell me
+what you think of yourself, Claud Cranmer. Are you proud of your
+insight? Do you congratulate yourself upon your prudence? Faith, it's a
+marvel to me how few men read the purpose of their being aright. Why do
+you suppose women were made weak, but for us to be their strength? What
+calls out the very highest points in a man's nature but a woman's need
+of him? I say there was not one grace of Wynifred's that escaped you,
+not a word she uttered that had not power to influence you; yet you
+deliberately resisted that influence and strove to forget those graces.
+You are despicable in my eyes."
+
+The room rang with his low, tense tones. Flinging himself into a chair,
+he shaded his eyes with his powerful, work-hardened hand, and a long
+silence reigned.
+
+Claud did not move. His face looked stony as he stared into the fire. In
+the main, every word that Fowler uttered had been true; for, though in
+the last few days the young man's love had taken definite shape, yet the
+old habits of ease and carelessness had still held him back. The sudden
+rush of rugged eloquence had been like a flash of lightning, shivering
+delusions to fragments, and laying bare before him the manner in which
+he had dallied with the high possibilities offered him.
+
+The moments ticked on, and still he sat, not uttering a word. The other
+did not move from his position. Nothing moved in the room but the even
+pendulum of the clock. At last Claud nerved himself to speak.
+
+"Is Miss Allonby in trouble?" he said, in a constrained way, stooping as
+if to recover his cigar, but in reality to conceal the flush which
+accompanied his words.
+
+"She is ill. I found her alone, in bitter grief. Her brother has
+disappeared--they do not know where he has gone. It is in consequence of
+Elsa's engagement. She--Miss Allonby, is utterly over-strained. She
+fainted whilst I was there, and I went to call the doctor. You have
+heard my denunciation. Now hear my determination. I am going to try for
+the treasure you have tossed on one side."
+
+Claud started violently, and raised his eyes to those of his companion
+in astonishment.
+
+"Yes, you may well be astonished. I know I have not a chance, but what
+difference does that make? I know that, but for one thing, it would be
+intolerable presumption in me to dream of it; but hear me. She is lonely
+and unprotected--yet, she has a brother, I know, but see--the brother
+has ends of his own, he is an anxiety, not a helper. She has need of
+some one to stand between her and the bitter necessities of life. The
+long struggle is wearing out her youth. If I could take her"--the voice
+vibrated with intense feeling--"and put her down in my Devonshire
+valley, with sunshine and sweet air, and every care that love could
+devise, what a heaven it would be to see the color come in her white
+cheeks, and the natural bent of girlhood return with the removal of
+unnatural responsibility." He made an expressive gesture with his hand.
+"Look at my niece, Elsa! She has more money than she can spend, she has
+beauty of the sort all men rave over, all her life she will have dozens
+of adorers, she will never be in want of loyal slaves to obey her
+lightest behests. And yet, with all her beauty and money, she is not
+worth the little finger of one of those three Allonby girls. As for
+Wynifred" ... he paused for a moment, and cleared his throat, "she will
+not have me," he said. "She is too absolutely conscientious to marry
+where she does not love; yet I hope it may comfort her--a little--to
+know that one man would--not metaphorically but literally--die for her,
+that to one man her womanhood is a nobility no title could give, and her
+happiness the most fervent desire of his heart."
+
+He ceased abruptly. The feelings of his large heart were too deep for
+utterance. Another eloquent silence succeeded. Claud's face was hidden
+in both his hands. When he raised it, it was white and fixed.
+
+"Fowler," he said, "I can't stand this."
+
+He sprang to his feet spasmodically, pushed his hand up through his
+hair, then, thrusting both hands deep into his pockets, walked quickly
+across the room and back.
+
+"I suppose you don't expect me to stand on one side and let you take my
+chance?" he asked, between his teeth.
+
+Henry rose too, and faced him.
+
+"I don't know," said he, speaking with slow scorn, "why I should have
+told you my intention, except for the purpose of showing you how another
+man could prize what you hold so lightly. I have no fear of wounding
+you; a love which can shilly-shally as you have done is not worth the
+having--is not capable of being hurt. Perhaps my reproaches have
+galvanized it into a sort of life; but it will die again when the
+friction ceases."
+
+"You are unjust to me now," said Claud, sharply. "What you said at first
+was mainly true. I did not at once realize how deep it had gone, and,
+when I did, I tried to stop it--to turn my thoughts. But all that is
+past--was past before you spoke. My deliberate intention is, and has
+been for a month past, to tell Miss Allonby what I feel for her."
+
+"Then why have you not carried out your intention?"
+
+The young man was silent for a moment; at last:
+
+"Love makes a man modest," he said. "I was not sure she would have me."
+
+"And pray what does that matter? Are you prepared to risk nothing to
+obtain her? Lad, you don't know what love is or you would lay yourself
+at your lady's feet and feel yourself the better man for doing it, even
+though she sent you empty away. With such a woman as Wynifred, you know
+full well you need fear the taking of no undue advantage. In my eyes you
+are without excuse."
+
+"At all events, I am not too far sunk not to resent your language,"
+retorted Claud, angrily. "Are you going to offer yourself to Miss
+Allonby in the midst of her domestic trouble?"
+
+"Yes, certainly. I am no fancy lover to sing madrigals in my lady's
+bower. If I have any merit in her eyes, it shall be as one ready to help
+her in her hour of need. I can at least say to her, 'Here am I, my
+house, my lands, my money, all to be spent in your service; use them
+all, for they are freely yours.'"
+
+"And I," faltered Claud, in an undertone, "can only say, 'I have no
+house, no lands, no money; all I can offer is myself, and that I
+withheld as long as I could.' I congratulate you, Fowler. You ought to
+win in a canter."
+
+Henry laughed somewhat bitterly.
+
+"Ought I? Perhaps, if Miss Allonby were likely to be swayed by such
+considerations. But she will marry for love, and only for love. Claud,
+what makes me rail against you so is that I believe she loves you. You
+don't deserve it, but I am afraid she does. And you--if you do not value
+it as you should----" he paused, for there was a knock at the door.
+"Come in," he said, irritably.
+
+A waiter brought in a telegram for Claud. Hastily scanning it the young
+man turned to his rival.
+
+"I am to bring you to dinner in Bruton Street," he said, after a pause.
+"I am afraid you must come. Percivale is to be there."
+
+"I will be ready in fifteen minutes," answered Henry; and he disappeared
+into the inner room.
+
+Claud stood gazing into the red embers in the grate with an awful
+sinking of the heart--a horrible depression he had never felt before.
+Now that he felt the possibility of losing Wynifred, he knew at last
+what his love was worth--knew that she was his life's one possibility of
+completion. Yet he had deserved to lose her.
+
+Resting his arms on the mantel-piece, he let his fair head fall
+disconsolately upon them.
+
+"My love, my dear," he whispered, "he is more worthy of you than I; and
+yet I believe that you belong to me--that I, with all my faults, could
+make you happier than he could. Choose me, Wynifred--my beloved, choose
+me!"
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XLVI.
+
+    To have her lion roll in a silken net,
+    And fawn at a victor's feet.
+
+    _Maud._
+
+
+The news from Mansfield Road next morning defeated for a time the
+designs of both the aspirants after Wynifred Allonby's hand.
+
+Ted Haldane had been able to bring a certain amount of comfort to Hilda
+and Jacqueline. He had been to Osmond's bankers, and found that the
+young man had that morning drawn out a considerable sum. This certainly
+seemed to negative any idea of suicidal intentions. But no further clue
+was forthcoming. The porter believed that Mr. Allonby, on leaving the
+bank, hailed a hansom and drove off; but even on this head he was by no
+means sure.
+
+It was the opinion, however, both of Henry Fowler and Mr. Haldane that
+Osmond would himself send news of his present whereabouts in a few days'
+time, when he had cooled down somewhat. But Wynifred was unable to
+derive comfort from the news, such as it was, for when she recovered
+from her long fainting-fit she was quite delirious. For the next few
+days the two poor girls had a time of terrible anxiety. The third
+morning brought a brief, reckless note from Osmond in Paris. It was
+merely to let them know that he was alive. He could not say when he was
+likely to return, or what he should do. He gave no address.
+
+No words could express the comfort which Mr. Fowler was able to afford
+the desolate girls. He saw that Wynifred had the best advice in London,
+and everything that money could procure; and when, in a week's time, the
+doctors were able to declare with confidence that the dreaded
+brain-fever had been averted, it was hard to tell who most rejoiced in
+the fact.
+
+Meantime, the engagement of Elsa to Mr. Percivale was publicly
+announced. The marriage was to take place immediately after Easter, and,
+as the young lady totally declined to be married in Devonshire, two of
+the Misses Willoughby were coming to town almost immediately to take a
+furnished house for a couple of months. After all, it was but natural
+that the girl should shrink from a place which had such terrible
+associations for her.
+
+Percivale sympathised entirely with her in this matter, as in
+everything. It was extraordinary for outsiders to watch the utter
+subjugation of his strong nature by the power of his love. Only one
+thing did certainly trouble him. His betrothed could not bear the quaint
+old dark house overlooking the river. It was exactly suited to the
+disposition of the young man who, as Claud said, always seemed to be
+trying to escape from his own century, somehow. He had improved the
+house, spent large sums of money upon it, and it was, indeed, the one
+spot in the modern roar of London wherein he felt entirely at home. His
+life of seclusion had, of course, rendered him shy. Going much into
+society was a trouble to him. But who wanted to find Elsa must needs go
+into society to seek her, and he thought she more than repaid the
+effort. Of course, if she found the house dull, it must be sold; but he
+had persuaded her graciously to consent to live in it for a few months
+first, just to try. Immediately on their marriage, he was going to take
+her to Schwannberg, that she might see the bursting of the glorious
+South German spring; but here again occurred a slight difference between
+them. He would have liked to linger, but this did not suit his bride.
+It would be dreadful, she urged, to waste these precious months cooped
+up in such a remote corner of the world. She must be in town by the
+middle of May, to have her first taste of a London season.
+
+This was a definite trial to Leon; but all his tastes were gradually
+undergoing such a complete revolution that he was willing on all
+occasions to think himself in the wrong. When first Elsa had fixedly
+declared that a month was the longest honeymoon she would suffer, the
+idea had greatly ruffled him. They had parted in much offence on the
+lady's part, and some unhappiness on the gentleman's.
+
+Next day he presented himself with a mixture of feelings at Burton
+Street. Fate was propitious. Lady Mabel was out at a calisthenic class
+with her children and the governess. Elsa was alone in the boudoir,
+attired in a tea-gown of delicate silk, and seated near the fire with a
+little sick terrier of his which she had undertaken to doctor. At her
+lover's entrance she half looked up, then turned slowly away and devoted
+her attention to the dog. Percivale stood in the doorway, his hand on
+the lock, his fine head thrown back.
+
+"May I come in?" he asked.
+
+"Pray do," said a small and frigid voice.
+
+He closed the door and came forward, his daily offering of flowers in
+his hand. Pausing before her--
+
+"Are you angry with me, Elsa?" he asked, miserably.
+
+"I thought _you_ were angry with _me_," she said, in low and injured
+tones.
+
+"My darling, no." He knelt down beside her. "Only I was a little
+disappointed to think--to think that you would not be happy alone with
+me----"
+
+She shot a shy glance at him from beneath her heavy lashes.
+
+"I do not know you very well yet," said she softly.
+
+"Are you afraid of me, Elsa?"
+
+A suggestive pause, during which he hung breathless on every change
+which swept over the lovely face.
+
+"I do not quite understand you," faltered she at last.
+
+"I only plead to be allowed to explain myself," he murmured. "What is
+it, love? I am so unused to women, you must be good to me, and help me,
+and forgive me if I am not gentle enough. What is it you do not
+understand?"
+
+"Is our honeymoon only to last as long as our wedding journey?" slowly
+asked the girl. "Will you not love me as well in London as in Tyrol?
+Will you change when that little month is over? For me, I shall love you
+as dearly, wherever we are."
+
+"My beloved!" he flung his arm about her in a rapture; for Miss
+Brabourne, as a rule, was very wisely sparing of her professions of
+attachment. "You are right--I was wrong. Our honeymoon will last for
+ever--what matters where we spend it?"
+
+"That was what I thought--no, Leon, you must not kiss me again--once is
+quite enough. Be good and listen to me while I talk to you a little."
+
+She passed her arm round his neck as he knelt, and, with her other hand,
+pushed up the soft curling rings of his bright hair. He closed his eyes
+with rapture as he felt the touch.
+
+"You say," said Elsa, stroking softly, "that you do not care for
+society, that you dislike London in the season."
+
+"And that is true, my own----"
+
+"Now, how do you know? Have you tried society?"
+
+"No, never. I have always avoided it!"
+
+"And how many seasons have you been through?"
+
+"Not one."
+
+"There, you see! Now, Leon, look at me!" Daintily placing a finger
+beneath his chin, she turned his face up to hers. "Is it fair to say you
+dislike a thing you have never tried? How can you tell beforehand? Is it
+not, perhaps, a little wee bit selfish of you?"
+
+"Yes, it is," promptly replied he. "I am a brute, my darling."
+
+"No, but you had not thought. I think, perhaps, if I--if I had a wife;
+and if I were foolish enough to be very proud of her, as you are of poor
+little me, that I should be pleased for people to see her, and to see
+how happy I made her--and to let all the world know that I loved her
+so--and--and--oh, Leon, you are laughing at me," and, with a burst of
+childish merriment, she hid her face in his neck.
+
+"Elsa," cried her lover, as soon as he could speak coherently, "my life,
+do as you like, go where you will--if you please yourself you please me!
+I live to make your happiness, mind that!"
+
+This was merely a specimen of the way in which Elsa carried her points.
+Percivale was a mere child in her hands; she had a knack of making
+others feel themselves in the wrong, which was little short of genius.
+
+Her presentation was a triumph. London was unanimous in pronouncing her
+undeniably the beauty of the year; and her engagement to the mysterious
+Percivale, as well as the romantic story of their first meeting,
+surrounded them both with a perfect blaze of interest. Nothing else was
+talked of. The marriage would be the event of the season. The world was
+more than ever anxious to know more of the owner of the _Swan_.
+
+"Miss Brabourne has never asked you anything about your belongings, has
+she?" asked Claud one day of Percivale.
+
+"Never. She has not alluded to the subject."
+
+"Take my advice," said Claud, "and don't volunteer that information
+which you mentioned to me."
+
+"Oh, I must. I shall tell her everything when we are married. I have all
+along determined on that."
+
+"People are so busy with your name, that it occurs to me that you are
+saddling a young girl with a great responsibility in giving her such a
+secret to keep."
+
+Percivale smiled.
+
+"Cranmer, are you in love?" he asked.
+
+"Yes, I am. Why?" said Claud, bluntly.
+
+The other looked surprised.
+
+"Well," he said, "you have not honored me with your confidence; and it
+is quite new to me to hear that you are; but to the point. Would you not
+trust the woman of your choice with any secret?"
+
+Claud hesitated a moment.
+
+"Well, to be honest," said he at last, "yes. I certainly should."
+
+"Should you not think it an insult to her to hold her debarred from the
+innermost recesses of your mind?"
+
+"Undoubtedly I should."
+
+"Well! Do you expect me to feel differently?"
+
+Claud had no more to say. His own state of mind in these days was one of
+deep depression.
+
+Henry Fowler had been obliged to leave town directly. Wynifred was
+announced to be convalescent; and, two days after his departure, Miss
+Ellen Willoughby had written to ask Hilda to bring her sister down to
+Edge Willoughby as soon as ever she was strong enough to travel, there
+to remain as long as she pleased, and grow strong in the soft sea air.
+
+Claud's only comfort was in calling every day at Mansfield Road for
+news, and now and then leaving a basket of grapes or some flowers from
+his sister; but he could never gain admittance to see Wynifred, though
+his face, as he once or twice made a faltering petition, went to Hilda's
+heart. His suspense was costing him a great deal, as was manifest from
+his countenance of settled gloom, his pale face, and the purple marks
+under his eyes.
+
+Lady Mabel received a shock one day.
+
+"Claud," said she, "I have been most astonished. Lady Alice Alison has
+been calling, and she tells me that the youngest Miss Allonby is going
+to marry one of the Haldanes of Eldersmain. I suppose I shall have to
+call; and she tells me also that their father was a colonel, and a
+nephew of Lord Dovedale. It is rather annoying; we ought to have known
+that before."
+
+"Why?" asked Claud, aggressively.
+
+"Why? Because I ought to have been told--I should have shown them more
+civility."
+
+"Why, what do you know of the Dovedales?"
+
+"Nothing, personally; but they are in society."
+
+"Well? Are not the Allonbys in society?"
+
+"Claud, how idiotic you can be when you like."
+
+"It is a matter of necessity, not choice, my sister. My brain never did
+work as fast as yours. But the speed of yours is abnormal. However, I
+should not lay myself open to a snub by calling in Mansfield Road now."
+
+"Why?"
+
+"Because, if they have any pride, and I fancy they have a good deal,
+they will not return your call."
+
+"Claud! Not return my call?"
+
+"I think not. They are very stiff with me."
+
+"That is just because I have not called."
+
+"And now you are ready to do so on the strength of their great-uncle
+having been in 'Debrett,' Mab. I thought you were beyond that sort of
+thing."
+
+"If it is being in love that makes you so unpleasant, my good boy, I do
+hope you will soon get over it."
+
+"Get over it. You talk as if it was measles. Does one get over these
+things? But, if you find my company irksome, I can go to Portland Place,
+you know."
+
+"Don't be offended; only you have been so terribly in the dumps lately.
+Why don't you propose, and have done with it?"
+
+"I am waiting for leave," said Claud, with a laugh which ended in a
+sigh, as he hurriedly left the room.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XLVII.
+
+    A man may love a woman perfectly,
+    And yet by no means ignorantly maintain
+    A thousand women have not larger eyes;
+    Enough that she alone has looked at him
+    With eyes that, large or small, have won his soul.
+
+    _Aurora Leigh._
+
+
+Elsa Brabourne had been transformed into Elsa Percivale with the
+assistance of two bishops and a dean. Drawings of her _trousseau_ and of
+her bridesmaids' dresses had appeared in the ladies' newspapers. Her
+aunts had given a reception to about a hundred people of whom they had
+never heard before, and who, in return, had presented the bride with
+much costly rubbish which she did not want; and at last Leon had carried
+off his wife, in an ultra-fashionable tailor-made travelling dress, to
+Folkestone _en route_ for the Continent and Schwannberg.
+
+Claud Cranmer had officiated, somewhat gloomily as best man at this
+wedding, the courtship of which had been so romantic, the realization so
+entirely Philistine.
+
+All the technicality and elaboration of this modern London ceremony had
+been most trying to Percivale, who, as has been said, hated coming
+before the public as a central figure; and, at this particular marriage,
+the mysterious bridegroom had, contrary to custom, attracted quite as
+much notice as the lovely bride.
+
+The young man was beginning dimly to realize that Claud had spoken truly
+when he said that life now-a-days could be neither a dream nor an ideal.
+There seemed so much that was commonplace and technical to take the
+bloom off his romance. He literally panted for his Bavarian home--for
+foaming river, wide lake, rugged steep, glittering horizon of
+snow-peaked Alps in which to realize the happiness that he so fervently
+anticipated. As to Elsa's mental state on her wedding-day, it must be
+owned that, when the excitement was over--when the admiring crowds were
+left behind, and she found herself alone with her husband, she was a
+good deal frightened. She did not understand him in the least. Her
+nature was so utterly devoid of the least spark of romance or sentiment
+that she could not interpret his thoughts or his desires. There was a
+still firmness about him which awed her. Docile as he was, subjugated as
+he was, there yet had been times during their short engagement when she
+experienced great uneasiness. Chief of these was the evening when he
+heard of Osmond Allonby's disappearance. There had been something then
+in the low, repressed intensity of his manner which had made her quail.
+
+True, she had been able to change his mood in a moment. A couple of her
+easily-shed tears, lying on her eye-lashes, had brought him to his knees
+in an agony of repentance. But still there remained always in her mind a
+kind of rankling conviction that her lover expected of her something
+which she could not give, because she did not know what it was. When
+Percivale gave rein to the poetic side of his nature, and talked of
+sympathies, of high aims, of beauty in one's daily life, he spoke to
+deaf ears. Vaguely she comforted herself with the reflection that this
+would last only for a little while. Men had a way of talking like that
+when they were in love; but, while it lasted, it give her a feeling of
+discomfort. She could never be at her ease whilst she was in a state of
+such uncertainty; for uncertainty begets fear.
+
+Her depression was increased by the serious words which her godfather
+had spoken to her on her wedding-morning. She hated to be spoken to
+seriously. It was like being scolded--it carried her back to the unloved
+memories of her dull childhood. Why could he not have given her her gold
+necklace with a gay declaration that most jewels adorned a white neck,
+but that in her case the neck would adorn the jewel--or some other such
+speech--the kind to which her ears were now daily accustomed.
+
+Why did he think it necessary to entreat her never to allow her husband
+to be disappointed in her? Was it likely that any man could ever be
+disappointed in her? It seemed more probable that she might one day come
+to feel bored by him, handsome and eligible though he was.
+
+Somehow, being engaged to him had not quite fulfilled her expectations.
+More than once she had felt--not exactly consciously, but none the less
+really--that she was more in touch with Captain St. Quentin, or others
+of the well-born ordinary young men of the day who formed her set, than
+with the idealist Leon. He was a creature from another sphere, his
+thoughts and aims were different, she knew; and, as her own inclinations
+became daily more clearly defined, she could not help feeling that they
+grew daily more unlike his.
+
+"But she is so young, he will be able to mould her," said Claud,
+hopefully to himself. He guessed, more clearly than any one else, that
+Percivale was mismated; and foresaw with a dim foreboding that a bad
+time was in store for him when he should discover the fact; but, on his
+friend's wedding-day, he would not be a skeleton at the feast. He was
+willing to hope for the best.
+
+Slowly he turned from the shoe-flinging and rice-scattering which formed
+the tag-end of the wedding. Leon's face haunted him. The expression of
+it, as he spoke the oath which bound him to Elaine, had been so intense,
+so holy in the purity of its chivalrous devotion, that it had awed and
+impressed even the crowd of frivolous triflers who lounged and chatted
+in the church, whispering scandal, and criticizing each other's
+appearance as others like them did at Romney Leigh's wedding. There was
+in fact something about this day which recalled the poem forcibly to
+Claud's mind: not, of course, the ghastly _d�nouement_, but the
+character of the man, the same loftiness of aim, the same terrible
+earnestness in its view of life.
+
+Something, too, about his friend's farewell had struck him with a
+sadness for which he could scarcely account.
+
+A little, trifling slip of Percivale's tongue, dwelt in his memory in a
+manner altogether disproportionate. In the hurry and bustle of the
+departure, as he grasped Claud's hand, instead of saying, "Good-bye," as
+he meant to, Leon had said, "Good-night."
+
+He was unconscious of it himself, and in an absent way he had repeated
+it, in that still voice which always seemed to convey so much meaning.
+
+"Good-night, Claud, good-night."
+
+Now that he was gone, the words rang in Cranmer's ears, as Romney's
+words lingered in Aurora's. As he turned back into the house and slowly
+went upstairs, he was repeating softly to himself the line,
+
+    "And all night long I thought _Good-night_," said he.
+
+Walking into the drawing-room with its showy display of wedding-gifts,
+its fading flowers and vacant, desolate aspect, he was confronted by
+Henry Fowler.
+
+They had hardly spoken before, as Henry had only arrived in town late
+the preceding night. Now they stood face to face, and the elder man was
+painfully struck by the haggard aspect of the younger.
+
+Wynifred Allonby had now been for some weeks at Edge Willoughby, and his
+only way of hearing of her was from the two Misses Willoughby who were
+in town, for the little house in Mansfield Road was shut up. Hilda was
+with her sister in Devonshire, Jacqueline staying with her future
+relations, Osmond still in Paris, his address unknown, his letters few
+and unsatisfactory.
+
+"Well?" said Mr. Fowler, interrogatively.
+
+"Well," said Claud, defiantly, "I am glad to have the chance of speaking
+to you, Fowler. I will begin with putting a straight question. Are you
+engaged to--to Miss Allonby?"
+
+"No, lad; that question is soon answered. She will not see me."
+
+"Well, then, I give you fair warning, I am coming down to the Combe. I
+can bear this suspense no longer."
+
+"Come as soon as you will, and stay as long as you can; but she will not
+see you. She will see nobody. She seems well, they say; her strength is
+coming back, she can walk, and eats pretty well; but she is sadly
+changed, her pretty sister tells me. She does not seem to care to talk.
+She will sit silent for hours, and they are afraid she does not sleep.
+She will go nowhere and speak to no one. If you call upon her, she will
+decline to see you."
+
+"I shall not give her the chance to decline or to consent. I shall
+insist upon seeing her," said Claud, calmly. "Fowler, some words you
+said to me that night at the Langham have been with me ever since:
+'There comes a time to every man when the only clean and honorable
+course is to go straight forward.' I have passed beyond that. For me
+now, the only _possible_ course is to go straight forward. I _will_ see
+and speak to her, if only to ask a forgiveness from her. I have piled on
+the sack-cloth and ashes this Lent, Fowler. I have found out at last
+what I really am; and for a time the knowledge simply crushed me. But
+now I am beginning to struggle up. I have grown to believe in the truth
+of the saying that men may rise on stepping-stones of their dead selves
+to higher things. If--if I could have _her_ for my own, I honestly think
+I might yet be a useful man. Now you know my intentions, sir, as well as
+I know them myself. You can't be mad enough to ask such a declared rival
+down to stay with you."
+
+"Mad or sane, I must have you to stay with me. Can you start to-morrow?"
+
+"With the best heart in the world; but, Fowler, I don't understand you."
+
+"See here, lad. I trust Miss Allonby entirely. She will not have you if
+she does not love you; and if she does love you, I am willing she should
+have you, for my life's aim is her happiness, whether she find it in me
+or in another man. Ah! you are young; no wonder you think me mad. Time
+was when I should have felt, as you do now, that the thing was a blind
+necessity, that either she and I must come together, or the world must
+end for me. In those days there was a woman,"--he halted a moment, then
+went on serenely, "there was a woman made for me. I was the only man to
+make her happy; but she chose another. It was then I knew what
+desolation meant. Now I can feel tenderness but not passion. I can wish
+for Wynifred's happiness more fervently than I desire my own; I do not
+feel, as you feel, that her happiness and mine are one and the self-same
+thing. Yours is the love that should overcome, I am sure of that, now.
+It is the love that will tear down barriers and uproot obstructions; the
+only love a man should dare to lay at the feet of a woman like Wynifred
+Allonby."
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XLVIII.
+
+    Write woman's verses, and dream woman's dreams:
+    But let me feel your perfume in my home,
+    To make my sabbath after working-days.
+    Bloom out your youth beside me,--be my wife.
+
+    _Aurora Leigh._
+
+
+Wynifred stood idly at the window.
+
+It was a lovely day--one of those real spring days which we in England
+so rarely enjoy--perhaps one, perhaps half-a-dozen in the whole year. A
+brief interlude in the east wind's unfailing rigor; a breathing time
+when the black shadows leave the land and color begins to dawn over
+copse and meadow. The sea-ward slopes of the valley were beginning to
+grow green. The borders of the garden were purple and gold with
+crocuses, and sweet with violets.
+
+Hilda had yesterday brought in a sumptuous handful of Lent lilies from
+the woods, lighting up the room like a flash of condensed sunlight.
+There were countless ripples on the sea, a breath of life and spring in
+the warm air. The birds were twittering and building, and the long
+hazel-blooms fell in pale gold and crimson tassels on the pathway. Miss
+Ellen lay on her sofa, anxiously watching the silent pale girl at the
+window.
+
+They were alone. Hilda was out riding with Henry Fowler.
+
+Miss Ellen had been watching the clock, wondering how long Wynifred
+would remain speechless and in the same position if left to herself.
+When the silence had lasted more than fifty minutes, she felt it
+unbearable.
+
+"Wynifred, my dear, a penny for your thoughts," said she.
+
+Wyn started violently, and faced slowly round. Her eyes wore a dull
+look, as if she was not quite fully awake.
+
+"I don't think I was thinking of anything in particular," said she,
+sitting down listlessly and taking up her work, which lay on a table
+near. Miss Ellen watched her keenly, as she turned the embroidery this
+way and that, smoothed it with her hand, threaded a needle with silk as
+if she felt that some pretence of employment was necessary, but, after
+five minutes' spasmodic working, let it drop idly in her lap, leaned
+back in her chair, and again became apathetic.
+
+It was disheartening indeed to watch her.
+
+Miss Ellen recalled the energetic, slender Wynifred of last summer, with
+her eager, vivid interest in everything, her ready tongue, her gay
+laugh, her quick fingers.
+
+How could the girl tell at what precise amount of work she would have to
+stop short? How should she recognise the signs of overfatigue? To spur
+herself on had been her only care,--to check her cravings for rest and
+leisure, as something to be crushed down and despised.
+
+Now she was like a clock with damaged works. If you shook her, she would
+go fitfully for a few minutes, and then relapse into her former
+lethargy.
+
+Of course, the completeness of her breakdown had been greatly aggravated
+by her own private unhappiness, and by the terrible trouble of her
+brother's total inability to stand up against his reverse of fortune. It
+seemed as if the consciousness of Osmond's utter weakness had sapped all
+her strength, had struck away her last prop. From such a depth of
+sickness and depression, she would, naturally take some time to
+re-ascend. Miss Ellen comforted herself with the thought that her cure
+must be gradual, but she could not feel that it had yet so much as
+begun.
+
+Wynifred could not be made to talk on any subject except the sun, the
+flowers, the chough, the villagers, or some such indifferent theme. To
+talk about books made her head ache, she said, and she never put pen to
+paper. Hilda had now and then tried her, by casually leaving writing
+materials about in the room where she sat; but, alone or in company, she
+never touched them.
+
+She spoke of no one and asked after no one but Osmond, and of him she
+would now and then speak, though never mentioning Elsa, or anyone else
+connected with the episodes preceding her illness.
+
+Miss Ellen watched her daily with a tenderness and penetration which
+were touching to behold. The whole of her gentle heart went out to the
+girl, the deepest depth of whose malady she hardly guessed. She had an
+idea that what was wanted was the sight of some thing or person vividly
+recalling the trouble, whatever it was, which had made such an
+impression. She believed that a moment of excitement, even if painful,
+would break up the dull crust of indifference, and bring relief, even if
+it should flow in tears. But she had not clue enough to go upon in order
+to bring such a thing about; and Hilda was profoundly ignorant of her
+sister's secretly-cherished love-affair.
+
+"Wynifred," said Miss Ellen.
+
+The girl looked up quickly.
+
+"It is such a lovely day, dear; why don't you go for a walk?"
+
+"I did not like to leave you, Miss Willoughby; not that I am very
+enlivening company."
+
+"You will be much more enlivening if you can bring me news of the
+primroses beginning to bloom in the woods. Get your hat and be off,
+bring back a pair of pink cheeks and an appetite, or you won't be
+admitted."
+
+Wynifred rose slowly and folded her work. Painfully Miss Ellen recalled
+words that Henry Fowler had spoken last year as he watched the blithe
+young company out at tea on the terrace:--Elsa, the Allonbys, young
+Haldane, and Claud Cranmer.
+
+"How those Allonby girls do enjoy themselves!" he had said.
+
+Their enjoyment was infectious, it was so spontaneous, so fresh. The
+change was acute.
+
+"What is to be done with her?" pondered Miss Willoughby, as the girl
+went out, apathetically closing the door behind her.
+
+Hardly knowing why, Wynifred chose the road that led inland, along the
+further side of the valley, to Poole Farm.
+
+Had Miss Ellen only known how inwardly active was the mind that
+outwardly seemed almost dormant! All yesterday the bells had been
+clashing from the little church in honor of Elsa's wedding. In fancy the
+girl had gone through the whole ceremony--had seen Claud attending his
+friend Percivale to church, in his capacity of best man. To-day it
+seemed as if the bells were still ringing, ringing on in her head until
+she felt dizzy and unnerved.
+
+Why could she not expel unwelcome thoughts and order herself back to
+work, as heretofore? No use. She had taxed her self-control once too
+often, and stretched it too far. It had snapped. There was no power in
+her.
+
+"There was a time," she thought, "when I could have saved myself. At the
+Miles' ball I was comparatively free--I could take an intelligent
+interest in other things. Why--oh, _why_ was he sent there to force me
+to begin all over again?"
+
+Lost in reverie, she wandered on until she found herself opposite the
+spot where Saul Parker had attacked Osmond.
+
+There was a fallen tree lying on the grass at the other side of the
+lane, and, overcome with many memories, she sat down upon it. Here it
+was that she and Claud had exchanged their first flash of sympathy, when
+strolling back to Poole together in the summer twilight. Closing her
+eyes, she rested her brow on her two hands, as she lived again through
+the experiences of those days.
+
+What was this strange weight which seemed to make her unable to rise, or
+to think, or to cast off her abiding depression? Had there really been a
+time when she, Wynifred, had possessed a mind stored with graceful
+fancies, and a pen to give them to the world?
+
+That was over for ever now. Her literary career was stopped, she told
+herself in her despair; and when her money came to an end she must
+starve, for her capacity for work was gone. Yet all around her was the
+subtle air of spring, instinct with that vague, indescribable hope and
+desire which sometimes shakes our very being for five minutes or so,
+suddenly, on an April day, however prosaic and middle-aged we may be.
+She did not weep, her trouble was too dull, too chronic for tears.
+
+She sat on, idly gazing at the farm-house windows and at the flight of
+the building rooks about the tall elms, till a footstep close beside her
+made her turn her head; and Claud Cranmer stood in the lane, not ten
+paces from her, his hat in his hand, his eyes fixed on her face.
+
+For a moment his figure and the landscape surrounding it swam before her
+eyes, and then, in a flash, the woman's dignity and pride sprang up anew
+in her heart and she was ready to meet him. All the feeling, the force
+of being which, since her illness, had been in abeyance, started up
+full-grown in a moment at sight of him. She knew she was alive, for she
+knew that she suffered--as poignantly, as really as ever; and for the
+moment she almost hailed the pain with rapture, because it was a sign of
+life.
+
+She must take his outstretched hand, she must control her voice to
+speak to him. She was childishly pleased to find that her strength rose
+with her need--that she could do both quite rationally. She did not rise
+from her log. As soon as Claud saw that she was conscious of his
+presence, he came up to her with hand extended, and, in another moment,
+hers was resting in his hungry clasp.
+
+He was more unnerved than she. His heart seemed beating in his throat,
+his love and tenderness and shame were all struggling together, so that
+for a few minutes, he was dumb; the sight of her had been so
+overpowering.
+
+They had told him not to be shocked--to expect to find her greatly
+altered; but they had not calculated on the instantaneous effect of his
+appearance on her. Thin indeed she was--almost wasted--her eyes
+unnaturally large and hollow. But the expression was as vivid, as
+fascinating as ever, the color burnt in her cheeks--it was merely an
+ethereal version of his own Wynifred, inspiring him with an idea of
+fragility which made him wild with pity.
+
+She spoke first--her own voice, so unlike that of any other woman he had
+ever known.
+
+"I did not expect to see you," she said. "Are you staying with Mr.
+Fowler?"
+
+"No. I came down yesterday."
+
+Her hand, which seemed so small--like nothing, as it lay in his own--was
+gently withdrawn.
+
+"You have brought spring weather with you," said she, quietly.
+
+"It is beautiful to-day," he answered, neither knowing nor caring what
+he said. "May I sit down and talk a--a little? It is--it is--a long time
+since I saw you last."
+
+He seated himself beside her on the log, hoping that the beating of his
+heart was not loud enough for her to overhear. He could hardly realize
+that he had accomplished so much--that they were seated, at last,
+together, "With never a third, but each by each as each knew well,"--and
+with a future made up of a few moments--a present so intensified that it
+blotted out all past experience; a kind of foretaste of the "everlasting
+minute" of immortality, such as is now and then granted to the
+time-encumbered soul.
+
+Whether the pause, the hush which was the prelude to the drama, lasted
+one moment or ten he could not say. He was conscious, presently, of an
+uneasy stirring of the girl at his side.
+
+"I think I ought to be walking home," said she.
+
+"Not yet; I have not half enjoyed the view," said he, decidedly.
+
+"Oh, please do not disturb yourself," she faltered, breathlessly, as she
+made a movement to rise, "I can go home alone--I would rather----"
+
+"So you told me the last time we parted, and, like a fool and a coward,
+I let you go. I am wiser now. You must stay."
+
+She had lifted up her gloves to put them on. Taking her hands in his, he
+gently pulled away the gloves, and obliged her to resume her seat. She
+began to tremble.
+
+"Mr. Cranmer--you must let me go. I--am not strong yet--I cannot bear
+it. Oh, please go and leave me. I cannot talk to you."
+
+The words were wrung from her. Feebly she strove to draw her hands out
+of his warm clasp, but he held them firmly.
+
+"The reason I followed you here was because they told me you would
+refuse to see me if you could," he said calmly. He had regained his
+composure now, and his quiet manner soothed her. "I was quite determined
+to see you. I came down to Edge for that reason alone. It is merely a
+question of time. If you will not listen to me to-day, you must
+to-morrow. I have something which I _will_ say to you. Choose when you
+will hear it."
+
+"Is it--is it about Osmond?" she said, feverishly.
+
+"About Osmond? No, it has nothing to do with him," said Claud, rather
+resentfully. "It is only about me."
+
+She was silent for a long moment, gazing straight before her with a
+strange, wild excitement growing in her heart. At last, with one final
+effort at self-mastery, she deliberately lifted her eyes to his. "About
+you?" she said faintly.
+
+"About you and me," he answered.
+
+She made an ineffectual struggle, half-rose, looked this way and that,
+as if for flight, then sank back again into her place, in absolute
+surrender.
+
+"Say it," she whispered, almost inaudibly.
+
+"Wynifred," he said, his voice taking from his emotion a thrill which
+she felt in the innermost recesses of her heart. "I have a confession
+to make to you--a confession of fraud. Pity me. Perhaps the confession
+will deprive me of your friendship for ever; but I must speak. There is
+something in my possession which belongs to you--it has been yours for
+nearly a year. You ought to have had it long ago. I have kept it back
+from you all these months. Do you think you can forgive me?"
+
+She gazed at him uncomprehending.
+
+"Something of mine? A letter?" said she.
+
+"No, not a letter." It was exquisite, this interview; he could have
+prayed to prolong it for weeks. He held her attention now, as well as
+her hands; he felt inclined to be deliberate. "It is worth nothing, or
+very little, this thing in question," he went on. "You may not care for
+it--you may utterly decline to have it--you may tell me that it is
+worthless in your eyes, and throw it back to me in scorn. But, since it
+is yours, I feel that I must just lay it before you, to take or leave.
+It has been yours for so long, that I think that very fact has made it
+rather less good-for-nothing, and, Wynifred, it has in it the capacity
+for growth. If you would take it and keep it, there is no telling what
+you might make of it."
+
+"I do not understand," cried Wynifred.
+
+"You do not understand why your own was not given to you before?" he
+asked, softly. "That is the shameful part of the story. I kept it back
+only for mean and contemptible reasons; because I was afraid to give it
+absolutely into your keeping, not knowing certainly whether you would
+care to have it. But I have been shown that this was not honest. Whether
+you will have it or not, my dearest, I must show my heart to you, I must
+implore you to take it, to forgive its imperfections, to count as its
+one merit that it is all your own. It is myself, my beloved, who am at
+your feet. My life, my hopes, my love, are all yours, and have been for
+so long.... Can you forget that I withheld them when they were not mine
+to keep? Can you forgive that they are so poor, so imperfect, so
+unworthy?"
+
+She had given a little cry when first the meaning of his riddle became
+apparent to her, and, snatching away one hand, had covered her face with
+it.
+
+All the Irish fervor and poetry of Claud's nature was kindled. He was no
+backward lover,--the words rushed to his lips, he knew not how.
+
+Determinedly he put his arm round his love as she sat, speaking with his
+lips close to her ear.
+
+"Wyn," he said, with that sweetness of voice and manner which had first
+won her heart. "Wyn, I'll give you no option. You are mine; you know it.
+I deserve punishment; but don't punish me, dear, for I tell you you
+can't be happy without me, any more than I without you. Is that
+presumption? I think not,--I believe it's insight. There are times, you
+know, when one seems to push away all the manners and customs of the
+day, and my heart just cries out to yours that we are made for one
+another. My own, just look at me a minute, and tell me if that isn't
+so."
+
+Drawing her closer to him, he gently pulled away her hand from her eyes
+and made her look at him.
+
+"Is it true? Dare you contradict me, sweetheart?" he said, tenderly.
+"Don't you belong to me?"
+
+The authoress could find no eloquent reply. No words would obey the
+bidding of her feelings. With her head at rest at last on her lover's
+heart, like the veriest bread-and-butter miss, she could only murmur a
+bald, bare, "Yes,--I--I think so."
+
+"You think so, do you, my love?" he said, ecstatically. "Tell me what
+makes you think so, then, sweet?"
+
+She closed her eyes, and, lifting her arm, she laid it round his neck
+with a sigh of bliss.
+
+"I--can't," said she, weakly.
+
+It sounds very inadequate, but the fact remains that this entire want of
+vocabulary in the usually self-possessed and ready Wynifred was the
+highest possible charm in the eyes of her lover. To his unutterable
+delight, he found that his very loftiest dream was realised. He himself
+was the great want of the girl's life. He comforted her. She was able at
+once to let go the burden of care and sorrow she had borne so long, and
+to rest herself utterly in his love. The expression on her white face
+was that of perfect rest. Her soul had found its true goal. Claud and
+she were in the centre of the labyrinth at last. Above them on the
+hillside stood the grey farm, still and lonely in the sunlight as it had
+stood for more than three centuries. Never had it looked on purer
+happiness than that of these two obscure and poorly-endowed mortals who
+yet felt themselves rich indeed in the consciousness of mutual sympathy.
+
+The air was musical with streams, the stir of spring mixed subtly with
+their joy. This betrothal needed no pomp of circumstance to enhance its
+perfection. To Claud and Wynifred to be together was to be blessed.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XLIX.
+
+    To marriage all the stories flow
+            And finish there.
+
+    _The Letter L._
+
+
+It was sunset when at last they rose from the fallen log. To Wynifred it
+was as though every cloud of trouble had melted away out of her sky.
+Grief was grief no longer when shared with Claud. His sympathy was so
+perfect and so tender. It seemed to both of them as if their betrothal
+were no new thing, as if, in some prior state of being, they had been,
+as he expressed it, _made to fit each other_.
+
+"Vaguely, I believe I always felt it," he said. "I was always at ease
+with you. You suited me. I felt you understood me; at times it almost
+seemed as if you must be thinking with my brain, so wonderfully similar
+were the workings of our minds. Wyn, we can never be unhappy, you and I,
+whatever our lot. We are independent of fate so long as we have each
+other. I wonder how many engaged couples arrive deliberately at that
+conclusion?"
+
+"I did not think you would ever arrive at it," said Wyn, smiling. "I
+thought you were a Sybarite, Claud."
+
+"You thought right--I was. But by habit, not by nature. It was Henry
+Fowler who awoke me to a sense of my own contemptibility. God bless
+him."
+
+"God bless him," echoed the girl, softly.
+
+"Look!" cried Claud, "how the sun catches the windows of the farm-house,
+and makes them flame. So they looked the first evening I ever saw
+them--before I knew you, my darling. Shall we go and tell Mrs.
+Battishill that we mean to get married? She will be so pleased."
+
+"Ah, yes, do. I had no heart to go and see her, the place was so full of
+memories of you. But now!"
+
+It was quite dark when Henry, who had been smoking at the open door of
+Lower House, heard Claud's quick footfall cross the bridge.
+
+"Well, lad," said he, as the young man came buoyantly towards him, "I'm
+to congratulate you, I know. There's triumph in your very step."
+
+"I'm about as happy as it's possible for a man to be," said Claud
+simply, as he gave him his hand. "I believe I should be too happy if it
+were not for the thought of you."
+
+"Don't you fret for me," was the steady answer.
+
+The moon was up, and threw a clear light on Claud's features as he stood
+bareheaded, just against the porch. Moved by a sudden impulse of
+affection, Henry laid his hand on the fair hair, and drew it closer,
+till it rested against his sturdy shoulder.
+
+"Claud," he said, "I believe I care more for you two than for any other
+living creatures. I know you will find your best happiness together, so
+I'll just not intrude my feelings on you any more. My head's full of
+plans for you, lad. Do you care to hear them?"
+
+"I should rather think so. Fowler, what a brick you are!"
+
+"Glad you think so. Now, listen. You'll accept that post of overseer I
+offered you?"
+
+"I should like it of all things."
+
+"Very well, then. I'll build you a house for my wedding gift. She can
+choose her own site, for most of the land round here is mine, as you
+know; and she can choose her own plans. I'll have them carried out,
+whatever they are. All I have will be hers when I'm gone; for Elsa will
+not want it. She has a large fortune of her own, and her husband's is
+larger. If my life is spared it will be my happiness to plan for your
+children, Claud. Do you think you can be happy leading such a retired
+life--eh?"
+
+"My happiness will be with Wynifred, wherever she is," was the tranquil
+answer. "I am not a boy, Fowler, and, as you know, my love has not been
+a fancy of an hour. She has told me that she is delighted at the idea of
+living here in the Combe; and, as for me--you know how I can enjoy
+myself in the country."
+
+"I foresee a long useful life for you both," said Henry, as they slowly
+went indoors in response to the supper-bell and reluctantly shut out the
+spring moonlight. "I wish I could feel as sure about Elsa."
+
+"Oh, that will be all right," said Claud, encouragingly. "What makes you
+despond about her?"
+
+"I feel so uncertain of her. What Miss Ellen always said about her is so
+true. She has a most pronounced character of her own, but nobody as yet
+knows what it is. I am afraid her husband expects too much of her."
+
+"Everyone who expects perfection in a woman must needs be disappointed,"
+returned Claud. "He will get over it, and find out how to manage her. He
+is a dreamer, you know--an idealist, any bride must needs fall short of
+his requirements. He is in love with an abstraction, and there is
+something particularly concrete about Mrs. Percivale."
+
+"There are some natures, I have heard of, that never trust again where
+their faith has been once shaken," said Henry, in a low voice. "I--I
+cannot consider Elsa reliable. She was not to be trusted as a child. I
+have a horrible suspicion that her husband would feel it terribly hard
+to forgive deceit."
+
+"She will have no occasion to deceive him," said Claud soothingly. "He
+will allow her to do whatever she pleases."
+
+"Well, I daresay I am wrong, I wish devoutly that I may be. But I have
+all along thought the marriage unsuitable. Of course, I foresaw it--from
+the moment when he saw her lying asleep in her aunt's room, the night we
+brought the news of her innocence. The circumstances were such as could
+not fail to attract such a romantic mind as his. And yet, Claud--yet--I
+wish things had fallen otherwise. She would have suited Allonby better."
+
+Claud was thankful that Henry was ignorant of the fact which, even now,
+was causing him the gravest anxiety. If he, Fowler, the gentlest of men,
+could sorrowfully admit that Elsa was not to be trusted, it was somewhat
+agitating to reflect that she was probably even now in possession of a
+secret which the entire London public was burning with curiosity to
+know. Henry did not believe in the existence of a secret at all. He
+thought that it was merely gossip, the natural result of Percivale's odd
+habits and secluded life.
+
+But suppose the entire facts were blazoned abroad--suppose the tale was
+in everybody's mouth!--Claud shrugged his shoulders. He had warned his
+friend, he could do no more. The sequel lay between the dainty hands of
+Percivale's wife. What would she do with it?
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER L.
+
+    "Eyes," he said, "now throbbing thro' me are ye eyes which did undo me?
+    Shining eyes, like antique jewels set in Parian marble stone?
+    Underneath that calm white forehead, are ye ever burning torrid.
+    O'er the desolate sand desert of my heart, and life alone?"
+
+    _Lady Geraldine's Courtship._
+
+
+It was a beautiful May evening. The air seemed full of incense, the
+trees which clothe the heights of Heidelberg were just one sheet of
+snowy blossom. The dull red castle was gilded by the slanting rays of
+the sun, and for a few moments stood out more decidedly that it is wont
+to do from the background of hills which surround it. The Neckar lay
+broad and calm under the light, at one end of the view lost in a
+narrowing gorge, at the other emerging wide into a seemingly limitless
+plain.
+
+Down the stream a boat was slowly floating. The current was taking her
+down quite fast enough to please her inmates. The young man's sculls lay
+idly skimming the surface of the shining water, and his eyes were turned
+up towards the bowery heights and the romantic ruin which lay to his
+right.
+
+The lady in the stern lay back with one hand and wrist clasped lightly
+on the rudder-lines; but there was little need for very accurate
+steering, as the season was too early and the stream too strong to tempt
+many boats out on the water.
+
+"By Jove, how lovely everything looks this evening! like a city in a
+dream," said Osmond Allonby, for it was he, turning up a face of
+artistic enjoyment to the lovely scene, with its quaint old roofs
+clustering down to the river, and its faint blue haze enveloping city
+and pinewoods alike in the mystery and stillness of evening.
+
+"Charming," said his companion, Mrs. Frederick Orton, as she roused
+herself, and let her eye follow the direction of his. "Let us land, and
+stroll up to the _Schloss_. It will be fine to see the sun set from that
+height."
+
+"Ah! you are improving, I see. Learning, under my tuition, to appreciate
+the beauties of nature," said Osmond, in a tone which seemed to imply
+considerable intimacy.
+
+He was a good deal changed for the worse in the few short months which
+had elapsed since the shattering of his hopes. It seemed as though his
+entire will had concentrated itself towards one aim, which, when
+removed, left his whole moral nature in fragments. His mouth looked hard
+and mocking, his eyes like those of one who sat up late, his whole
+manner had degenerated and taken a different tone.
+
+His falling in with the Ortons in Paris had been about the worst thing
+which could possibly have befallen him. Ottilie's bitter hatred of
+Percivale and Elsa made her a dangerously sympathetic confidante. With
+one of those impulses of kind-heartedness which she was not wholly
+without, she had commissioned the forlorn young man to paint her
+portrait. This was at the time when his utter solitude and misery were
+so great, that his better nature was on the point of reasserting itself
+and sending him back to his forsaken home. But the daily sittings in
+Mrs. Orton's luxurious boudoir supplied his craving better than a return
+to duty would have done. She made a _prot�g�_ of him. He was
+good-looking and had plenty to say for himself, his present sardonic and
+bitter frame of mind was amusing. He fell into the habit of escorting
+her about when, as frequently happened, her husband was too indolent to
+accompany her. When they moved from Paris, he went with them. She
+declared she should be dull without him. For several reasons it suited
+them better to remain abroad, and Osmond had grown to believe that he
+could not set foot in England till after Elsa's marriage. The notice of
+that event in the newspapers did not, however, seem to quicken his
+desire to go back and take up the broken threads of his life. He was
+content to dawdle on at Ottilie's side, railing at fate, sneering at the
+world, and growing every day less able to retrieve himself, and face
+disappointment like a man.
+
+Ottilie laughed at his remark, as she laughed at all his sneers, whether
+directed against herself or others.
+
+"Oh, you'll do wonders with me, if you keep on the course of training
+long enough," she said. "Now pull a few strokes on the bow side. I want
+to go in."
+
+"This is a sweet place.... I should like to make some stay in it," said
+Osmond, musingly.
+
+"Like most Edens, you would find there was a snake in it," said she,
+laughing.
+
+"Might I ask whether you mean anything particular by that remark?"
+
+"What makes you ask?"
+
+"I fancied there was a hidden meaning in it, somehow."
+
+"My dear boy, your penetration is fast becoming a thing to dread. Yes,
+if you will have it, there _was_ a special meaning. I looked at the
+visitors' list this morning, and saw, among the arrivals----"
+
+She paused. They were just in shore. The young man shipped his sculls,
+leaned his arms on his knees, and faced her steadily.
+
+"Well--who were among the arrivals?"
+
+"Mr. and Mrs. Percivale," she answered, rising. He sprang up to help her
+to land.
+
+"What a mercy all that folly is over and done with," he said; and
+laughed, the harsh and dreary laugh proving the falsity of his words as
+he uttered them.
+
+Turning to the boat he collected her wraps, paid the boatman, and then
+turned absently towards the town.
+
+"We were going to the castle, I think?"
+
+They set off walking in silence. At last Osmond abruptly broke out:
+
+"They are returning from their honeymoon, I suppose."
+
+"Doubtless. They are soon tired of seclusion; but Mrs. Percivale is no
+lover of seclusion; she had too much of that in her youth. What she
+wants now is to have her fling; and that is the very thing which does
+not by any means meet her husband's wishes."
+
+"Why not? Is he jealous of her?" asked Osmond, in dry, hard tones.
+
+"Jealous? He may be. I daresay she will give him cause; but that is not
+his reason for not wishing to appear very conspicuously before the
+public."
+
+"Do you know the real reason?" asked Osmond, after a pause, staring at
+the ground.
+
+"Broadly speaking, yes, I do. But not the details; they are too
+carefully concealed. Osmond, my young friend, if you want to be revenged
+on your successful rival, as is the fashion in the story-books, I could
+surely show you the easiest way in the world to do it."
+
+"You could?" he said, with a momentary flash of unmistakable interest.
+
+"I could indeed. I mean it."
+
+"Rubbish," he said, in the unceremonious way of addressing her which he
+had rapidly acquired.
+
+"Oh, very well, if you contradict me flatly--"
+
+"I didn't contradict. I only thought it was another flight of that
+brilliant fancy of yours."
+
+"It is no fancy, but a solid fact," said she, vehemently, "that nobody
+knows who Percivale's father was. There! You have it in black and
+white."
+
+Osmond gave a long whistle, and mused a few minutes in silence. At
+last--
+
+"Won't do, my friend," said he. "She would never have been allowed to
+marry a man who could give no account of his antecedents."
+
+"Oh--you think so! You are as clever as all the rest of them! I tell you
+the man is an adventurer--a mere adventurer! He had no difficulty in
+bamboozling that old idiot Henry Fowler, who was taken in by him from
+the first moment he saw him. As for the women, they could none of them
+see beyond his red beard and his red sash. It is as clever a case of
+fraud as I ever saw."
+
+Osmond laughed bitterly.
+
+"If it were fraud how can you prove it?" he said. "It is of no use to
+set indefinite reports afloat. There are hundreds of them already, but
+nobody believes them. And how can you get at facts?"
+
+"Let me have Mrs. Elsa alone for half-an-hour, and I will engage to know
+as much as she does by the end of that time."
+
+"And how much does she know?"
+
+"Everything there is to tell."
+
+"How in the world do you know that?"
+
+"Because, my friend, I am, unlike you, a student of character. Percivale
+is besottedly in love, and, with his idiotic, romantic notions, would be
+sure to think he must tell his precious Elsa everything."
+
+"Your inconsistency pains me, Mrs. O. Does this tally with the character
+of the deliberate adventurer? Surely he would have more prudence."
+
+"Well," said she, after a pause, "if she does not know it now, she could
+certainly make him tell her, if it were put into her head to ask."
+
+"You would be a bad ambassadress. If there is one person on the face of
+this earth whom she hates, I imagine it to be yourself."
+
+"Oh! Pooh! Let me have her for an hour, I would be her warmest friend."
+
+He smiled.
+
+"You are sanguine," he answered.
+
+"Osmond, you think I am talking nonsense," she said, impetuously. "I
+tell you I am not. Will you bet on it? Will you bet me that I don't get
+an interview with Elsa Percivale, win her over, and extract her
+husband's secret?"
+
+"Yes, I will. Twelve pairs of gloves--anything you choose. You won't do
+it. To begin with, is it likely her husband will ever leave her alone?
+Besides, I think you are all wrong. I don't believe in any mystery
+except what is the invention of gossip."
+
+"Very good. We shall see," was the lady's oracular answer. "Remember,
+it's a bet."
+
+"Certainly. What am I to have if you fail?"
+
+"A couple of boxes of the very best cigars."
+
+"Done."
+
+No more was said, for they were in the very steepest part of the ascent,
+and even Osmond's breath began to fail.
+
+At last they were at the summit, repaid by a view which more than atoned
+for past struggle. As they leaned over the terrace, and gazed down,
+there was nothing beneath their eye but a foaming sheet of white,
+spray-like blossom and tender green foliage. The whole air was heavy
+with its fragrance. It was like a fairy sea, and inspired a longing to
+plunge one's weary limbs into its flowery midst and be at rest. As
+Osmond gazed around him, a sadness, born of the evening consecration,
+stole meltingly over his passion-twisted heart. The monotonous iterance
+of a little vesper bell somewhere in the valley, hidden by the orchard
+bowers, added the finishing touch. Leaning over the parapet, he felt
+unmanly tears welling up from his heart. All around spoke of peace, and
+it seemed as though the force of an invisible yet all pervading love
+flung around him.
+
+    "A slow arm of sweet compression felt with beatings at the breast."
+
+Not for long had nature had the power so to move him; not since the fair
+June day when, in the Devonshire Combe, had first shone on him the eyes
+of the girl who was to prove his undoing. Remorseful memories swept over
+him all in a moment. A wholesome sense of failure, not in his worldly
+career, but morally, weighed down his spirit.
+
+Ottilie, seated on the parapet, with her jewellery and her gorgeous
+parasol, looked out of place. At the moment it seemed as if he loathed
+her company, and must leave her.
+
+A great yearning to be at peace, and forgive, flooded his heart. All the
+springs of sentiment were touched. Perhaps if any spot could lift up the
+degraded soul, and speak to it intensely of its own high possibilities,
+that spot is Heidelberg at the blossoming of spring.
+
+A bough of lilac swayed close to his lips. Its surpassing freshness
+drifted past him on the breeze. The wallflower in the cleft of the red
+sandstone wall gave out with odorous sighs the store of warm sunlight
+which it had imbibed all day. He covered his face with his hands. Had he
+been alone, he would have fallen on his knees. There, on the bounteous
+hill-side, was the ruin of a palace--one of those "little systems of
+this world, which have their day, and cease to be." The kings who had
+erected it and lived in it, the men who had, may be, broken their hearts
+there, as he, Osmond, had lately done, were all past and gone, like a
+dream. But all around the woods were yet green, the fruit-trees
+blossomed still; and, encircling the decaying works of man, the works of
+God took on the semblance of the endless youth of immortality.
+
+No such thought as this took definite shape in Osmond's mind; but the
+influence spoke all around him in the eloquent silence, teaching him, as
+God is apt to teach, without words, by the stress of the unseen upon his
+soul, felt without being comprehended. He had wandered away from Mrs.
+Orton's incongruous presence, and was alone in the most lonely part of
+the terrace.
+
+Steps on the gravel roused him--low voices. Then the light ripple of a
+girl's laugh, like a splash of musical water, made him almost leap from
+his attitude of musing, every fibre of him alive and quivering with a
+rush of memory.
+
+She stood before him--Elsa Percivale. Inwardly he said over the strange
+name that was now hers. One hand was in her husband's arm, the other
+was full of lilac and cherry-blossom. Her shining eyes beamed from
+beneath the most alluring of large hats. They looked, at that moment, an
+ideal bride and bridegroom.
+
+Osmond whitened to the very lips as he faced the pair. He had no moment
+of preparation. Though he had just heard that they were in Heidelberg,
+the idea of meeting them face to face had not occurred to him very
+forcibly.
+
+But, after the first moment of confusion, he felt that he could perhaps
+more easily have achieved such a meeting in this particular spot, than
+anywhere else in the world. His mood was that of being lifted above
+disappointment. He raised his hat with a hand that hardly trembled, and
+then stepped forward with a low word of greeting.
+
+As for Elsa, when she saw who confronted her, the color flew to her
+face, and she glanced up at Leon's face with a guilty start. He scarcely
+looked surprised, but advanced with frank courtesy, saying.
+
+"How do you do? What a lovely spot in which to meet."
+
+"It is indeed," said Osmond, wondering at the calm with which he was
+able to proceed to offer the customary hopes as to the bride's health,
+and inquire what sort of weather they had had for their honeymoon.
+
+Elsa was in radiant spirits this evening. She was on her way to
+London--that London which she loved so well. She was travelling, too,
+from place to place. Almost every night they stopped at a different
+hotel, and she sunned herself in the admiring glances of fresh
+_tables-d'h�te_. Whatever she expressed a wish for was immediately hers.
+Marriage, so far, suited her exactly. Certainly it was rather dull at
+Schwannberg and Leon had been rather tiresome sometimes, talking in a
+manner she could not understand. But that was over now; and honeymoons
+are not, as a rule, of frequent occurrence in one's career.
+
+Whether Percivale was equally satisfied was a problem not yet to be
+answered. His thoughts were always hard to guess. Osmond could only note
+afresh every grace of his person and bearing with a bitterness which not
+even his late musings could take away.
+
+"Are you here alone?" asked Elsa of Osmond, after her first panic; she
+was so relieved to find that he shook hands like any other mortal, and
+attempted no denunciations, that she felt quite at ease.
+
+"No," he said, "I am with the Ortons."
+
+"The Ortons!" cried she, with a gesture of dislike, and then she turned
+her head, and saw Ottilie Orton just behind her.
+
+"I don't wonder at that involuntary expression of opinion, Mrs.
+Percivale," said Ottilie, in the soft low tones she could employ when
+she chose. "I am afraid you will never be able to forgive me for the
+wrong I did--for the greater wrong I intended to do you."
+
+Ottilie dearly loved a little melodrama, anything approaching a "scene"
+was quite in her line. After the above speech she looked imploringly at
+Elsa, not holding out her hand, yet seeming by her whole attitude and
+expression, to denote that from one so good and beautiful she dared to
+hope much.
+
+Elsa looked at her husband, and her husband hesitated. His distrust of
+the lady was profound, yet he did not wish to be rude.
+
+"You cannot know, how can anyone tell," pleaded she, "what little
+Godfrey was to me? Ah, you saw only the bad side of his nature, you
+never knew what he could be to those he loved. I--never," here the rich,
+expressive voice broke, "I never had a child of my own--he was all I had
+to love. Cannot you imagine the burning sense of wrong--the feeling that
+my darling was dead, that some one must and should pay for his death? I
+was blind--mad! I lost all sense of right. I never thought of you, I
+only wanted vengeance for my boy."
+
+It was beautifully done. The fervent tones took fresh meaning from the
+picturesque ruin and the lovely surroundings. Two of her auditors
+listened eagerly, the third, Osmond, turned away sick with disgust. He
+knew Mrs. Frederick pretty well by now. He had heard her conversation as
+they climbed the hill together, he knew that, if she possessed one
+sensation more prominently than another, it was hatred of the two
+standing before her. Yet she could speak thus to compass her own ends.
+
+Almost before he knew what had happened, both the husband and wife had
+shaken hands with her, and she had seated herself on the parapet,
+holding Elsa's hand in hers. He stood apart, hearing as in a dream the
+conversation which Ottilie knew so well how to sustain--hearing her
+faltering statements of contrition, and her pitiful complaint of
+sleepless nights, spent in the wonder as to whether chance would ever
+give her the opportunity to crave that forgiveness which she so sorely
+needed.
+
+What the influence of the calm, spring sunset had begun, the violent
+revulsion of feeling completed in Osmond. A stinging contempt for
+himself, in that he had worse than idled away three months in this
+woman's society, overcame him. The thought that, in his cowardly desire
+of revenge, he had well nigh plotted with her the destruction of this
+young Elsa's golden dream of happiness seemed to strike him like a lash.
+
+No more--no more! A little fount of longing for his despised and
+deserted home broke over his barren heart. Home, straight home, now. To
+sever instantly all connection with the Ortons was his one fixed
+intention.
+
+"The Castle Hotel!" Ottilie was saying, "why, that is ours. We shall
+meet at the _table-d'h�te_ to-night."
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER LI.
+
+    A lady! In the narrow space
+    Between the husband and the wife!
+          ... She showed a face
+    With dangers rife.
+    A subtle smile, that dimpling fled
+    As night-black lashes rose and fell.
+
+    _The Letter L._
+
+
+"You are an excessively foolish boy," said Ottilie, angrily. "It is
+idiotic of you, Osmond. Leave the place by express train because of the
+Percivales! Why, they will probably leave themselves the day after
+to-morrow, at further. They are making no stay."
+
+"It is of no use to argue," said Osmond, turning his haggard face away
+from the window, where the twilight was growing obscure. "I am off, Mrs.
+Orton. I seem an ungrateful brute, I know, but I can't help it. It's my
+lot, I think, to disappoint everybody who expects anything of me. I
+have, the feeling upon me that I must go; but, before I go, I want to
+say one thing."
+
+He stopped short. From the depths of an easy chair, Ottilie made an
+impatient exclamation.
+
+"Well, then, say it, do," said she, "if it's worth hearing."
+
+"I want to say that the bet's off, as far as I am concerned."
+
+She laughed loudly.
+
+"O ho, that is it, is it? No, no, my friend, you don't get off in that
+way. When you betted so valiantly, you thought you were putting your
+money on a certainty; but, since the specimen of my ability I gave you
+up on the terrace, you begin to tremble. You find that I am not such a
+fool as you took me for! Excellent! But you shan't beat such a cowardly
+retreat as that."
+
+"You mistake, partly," said the young man, hurriedly. "I admit that,
+when I dared you to try a reconciliation, I thought the whole thing was
+out of the question; and now I see I was mistaken. But don't think I
+withdraw for fear of loss. You shall have your gloves without the
+trouble of winning them; sooner than that----"
+
+"Dear me! Then what is all the fuss about?" she asked, sneeringly.
+
+He came up to her chair, laying a clenched hand on the back of it.
+
+"Don't try to do harm--to make mischief," he said, in a low voice. "It's
+devil's work."
+
+"O--oh! Are we there? It is a sudden attack of virtue you are laboring
+under, is it? My good friend, don't attempt the part. It doesn't suit
+you nearly as well as the one you have lately appeared in."
+
+"And what is the part I have lately appeared in?"
+
+"Well, something very nice and fascinating, and easy to get on with. If
+you are going to be all over prickles, and object to everything on high
+moral grounds, you will make yourself an emphatic nuisance, as Artemus
+Ward observed."
+
+"Much better that I should take my departure, then. We shall never
+agree. But, Mrs. Orton, you have been very kind to me----"
+
+"Oh! don't allude to your gratitude. It is so patent."
+
+"You are bitter. I am glad, perhaps, to think that you will regret me a
+little bit. But won't you promise me this one thing--the only favor I
+ever asked you, I believe. Let Percivale's wife alone."
+
+"Osmond, you are a poor, chicken-hearted coward. I am ashamed of you.
+Why your reasons for hating those two ought to be even stronger than
+mine. Here lies revenge ready to your hand. Yet you drop it and sneak
+away. You are worse than Macbeth."
+
+"And you," he rejoined, excitedly, "are worse than Lady Macbeth--a woman
+who hounded a man on to crime. Thank God I am not so completely under
+your influence as that, Mrs. Orton."
+
+"You are too complimentary, Mr. Allonby. One would think that I was
+anxious to murder the Percivales in their beds."
+
+"You are anxious to do them all the harm you can."
+
+"Now listen to me, if your generous rage will allow you to be impartial
+for a moment. What is all this rhodomontade about? If Percivale is an
+adventurer, he deserves to be exposed--it is a kindness to his wife to
+accomplish it. If he is not, my shaft will recoil harmless. I shall do
+no injury in either case."
+
+"Pardon me. She is his wife. If he is unworthy, for Heaven's sake spare
+her the pain of knowing it. If he is not, you will most probably achieve
+the wreck of his married happiness by making her suspect him. Either way
+you cannot fail to do infinite harm."
+
+"Dear me! You ought to have been a lawyer, not an artist. You have such
+a logical mind. One would think you cherished no grudge against that
+empty little jilt for her treatment of you."
+
+"You would think right. I love Elsa. I always shall. Mine is the kind of
+love that is immortal; I wish it could die. But it cannot. Like
+Prometheus, it must live for ever, though a vulture gnaw at its very
+heart. Her treatment of me makes no difference at all. I would die to
+save her from pain."
+
+"You are a contemptible fool, then!"
+
+"Possibly. My folly may make me happier than your revenge will make
+you." He walked once or twice through the room, then stopped again at
+her side. "Won't you give me a promise?" he said, wistfully. "I am going
+away, and you won't see me again for some time. Won't you promise?"
+
+"I decline to speak to you at all. I am disgusted with you; sorry I ever
+troubled myself to be kind to such a poor-spirited----"
+
+She rose with passion, flung past him, and left the room. Osmond put
+his hand over his brow and stood silent for several minutes. Ought he to
+warn Percivale that Mrs. Orton's pretence of friendship was only
+specious? Perhaps he ought. And yet----He could not control his jealous
+dislike so far as that. No, it was impossible. If he washed his own
+hands of the whole affair, surely that was enough. It was the husband's
+duty to protect his wife; it was certainly not Osmond's place to
+interfere. Percivale had obtained possession of the treasure. Let him
+keep it. So said he vindictively to his own heart.
+
+The sound of the opening door made him start. It was so dark that he
+could hardly see Frederick Orton as he walked in.
+
+"Is Ottilie here?" he asked, lazily.
+
+"She has just gone out," returned Osmond. "I'll wish you good-bye,
+Orton; my train goes in half-an-hour."
+
+"Your train? Where the deuce are you off to?"
+
+"England. I have played long enough. I am going back to work."
+
+Frederick stuck his hands in his pockets and whistled.
+
+"Oho! I see daylight. Mr. and Mrs. Percivale are in the hotel," he
+drawled. "Pooh! what does that matter? Stay and cut him out. Easily
+done. He's too virtuous to keep any woman's affection for long."
+
+Osmond laughed bitterly.
+
+"Which means that I am not?"
+
+Orton laughed too.
+
+"Look at Ottilie, she is hand and glove with them; sharp girl!" he said.
+"Thinks they are rich enough to be useful acquaintances, I suppose. Bury
+the hatchet, old man, and get the happy bridegroom to give you a
+commission."
+
+"Might manage it seven years hence, but it's no good to try yet," said
+Osmond, with an effort to copy his tone. "I am afraid Mrs. Orton doesn't
+like my defection, but she will soon get over it. Remember me to her. I
+must not wait now, or I shall miss my train."
+
+After all, he had to wait for the next train. Firm in his purpose,
+however, he declined to go in to the _table-d'h�te_, but walked out into
+the gardens of the hotel, and sat down in the spring starlight,
+meditating. He recalled the gush of feeling with which the castle had
+inspired him, and the meeting, so laden with emotion of the most
+poignant kind.
+
+Meanwhile, Elsa had asked in surprise what had become of Mr. Allonby.
+She was excessively disappointed not to see him again. She had decked
+herself in one of her most radiant _trousseau_ gowns, in order to
+inspire him with fresh despair at sight of what he had lost. In point of
+fact, she had never regretted her treatment of him until that day. He
+was greatly altered, and, in her opinion, much for the better. His
+world-worn air and cold cynicism were just the very things to attract
+her. How much more interesting he would have been if he had always had
+that air! He was her timid slave no longer. A desire to subjugate him
+afresh fired her bosom. He was far better worth thinking about than she
+had previously imagined. And now, just when she wanted him, he had
+disappeared.
+
+He was not far off, had she known it. He slowly paced the walk under the
+trees in the shadow until the dinner was over, and the ladies came out
+on the balcony. He saw Elsa, in the shimmer of her pale dress, with the
+moon on her golden hair. She leaned over the balcony and laughed at
+Ottilie, who was down in the fragrant garden below. Osmond heard Mrs.
+Orton ask her to come down--it was so cool and fresh among the flowers;
+and, after a few minutes' hesitation, the girl disappeared within doors,
+fetched a wrap, and came gliding like a silver moonbeam down the
+staircase to the lawn.
+
+The young man held his breath as he saw the two walk away together into
+the gloom of the garden. He was tempted for a moment to emerge from his
+concealment, join them, and defy Ottilie.
+
+At the moment a clock struck. He started. He must not lose his sole
+chance of escaping from Heidelberg that night.
+
+Slowly he turned and moved away, his eyes still on the two ladies, the
+dark and the fair, as they strolled in the picturesque setting of the
+purple night together; and the sound of Elsa's joyous laugh was the last
+memory he took with him from the enchanted spot.
+
+It was in this wise that Osmond returned to his duty and his senses.
+
+Hilda and Wynifred had just left Edge Combe, and returned to Mansfield
+Road in preparation for the wedding-day of the latter, which was to be
+on the first of June, when, to their delighted astonishment, arrived a
+letter from Cologne, from Osmond, warm, loving, and penitent,
+announcing that he was travelling back to them as fast as train would
+carry him. It is needless to describe the joy with which the sisters and
+Sally prepared the little house for the wanderer's reception, carefully
+hiding away out of the studio any picture or study which might bring
+unpleasant memories in its train.
+
+When he experienced the delight of their welcome, and the sweet
+surrounding atmosphere of home, he was more ready than ever to marvel at
+the folly which had led him, in his dark hour, to fly from such a
+prodigal wealth of sympathy. It seemed, after all, as if trouble had
+strengthened him. His total failure to bear up like a man against
+disappointment had taught him a lesson. The ease with which he had
+lapsed into a "lower range of feeling" was also serviceable in showing
+him his inherent weakness. Only for the next few months his heart was
+overshadowed by a deep misgiving. He could not banish from his
+conscience the idea that he ought to have warned Percivale against Mrs.
+Orton. His quitting the field, as he had done, washing his hands, like
+Pilate, free from the guilt of destroying a just man, seemed a
+despicable piece of pusillanimity. Every day he feared to hear ill
+tidings of some sort--to learn from the Wynch-Fr�res, or Henry Fowler,
+that some unpleasantness had arisen between Elsa and her husband.
+
+But time went on. Wynifred's wedding-day came and went, the Percivales
+were in town, Elsa's name figured at all the best receptions. She and
+her husband were seen everywhere together, and though, certainly, there
+were those who said that he looked very ill, still, the world is always
+prone to calumny. They were leaving the old house by the river, and
+moving into an enormous mansion in one of the fashionable squares. The
+decorating and furnishing of this abode was the delight of the bride's
+life. Society said that she grew every day more gay and entrancing, her
+husband more pale and silent. He was not used to the confined life of
+London--to being up all night in heated rooms, in noise, glare, and
+crowd. Physically, it told upon him. Lady Mabel Wynch-Fr�re saw it, and
+told Elsa, she must take her husband away as soon as possible,
+
+"Yes, poor fellow, it is unfortunate we cannot manage to get away yet,
+is it not?" said Elsa, brightly. "But you know what upholsterers and
+decorators are unless one is personally there to superintend them? It is
+impossible to leave town until things are rather more finished. It is
+that hateful house in St. James' Place that makes Leon ill, I am sure of
+it. He will be a different creature when we move."
+
+Certainly no results had as yet followed from Mrs. Orton's enmity.
+Osmond grew at last to believe that all her talk had been at random,
+that no mystery existed, that she had done nothing, and that he was a
+fool to have distressed himself over an angry woman's idle threats.
+
+Yet there were moments,--times of deep thought and solitude, when, on
+pondering over what he knew of Ottilie's character, this explanation
+hardly satisfied him. There was a power for evil about this woman which
+was undeniable--a keenness, a mental activity which were at times
+formidable. Was it possible that she had obtained the knowledge she
+sought for, and as yet held it in her bosom like a concealed weapon,
+waiting a favorable opportunity to strike?
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER LII.
+
+    DUCHESS. What have they said?
+
+    BERTUCCIO.              Ask never that of man.
+
+    DUCHESS. What have they said of me?
+
+    BERTUCCIO.                    I cannot say.
+
+    DUCHESS. Thou wilt not, being my enemy. Why, for shame,
+    You should not, sir, keep silence.
+
+    BERTUCCIO.                      Yet I will.
+
+    DUCHESS. I never dreamt so dark a dream as this,
+
+    BERTUCCIO. God send it no worse waking!
+
+    _Marino Faliero._
+
+
+A pleasant autumn afternoon shed its mellow light over Edge Combe. The
+fields were golden with harvest, and the air was warm with sunshine. In
+the porch at Lower House, Wynifred Cranmer stood leaning against the
+arched doorway, her needle-work in her hands. Near her, in a capacious
+wicker chair, her husband was enjoying his afternoon "weed."
+
+Very contented and serene did Claud look, in his countrified suit of
+rough cloth, his leggings and thick boots. The costume suited him
+admirably, and the healthy out-of-door life had already given a glow of
+red-brown to his fair complexion. His gun lay near at hand, ready for
+him to clean, when so disposed; but at present life seemed to offer no
+more perfect enjoyment than to sit still, smoke, and look at his wife's
+delicate head in a setting of sunny sky and purple clematis blossom.
+
+"Penny for your thoughts, Wyn," he remarked, after a more lengthy pause
+than usual; for they were, on the whole, rather a talkative pair.
+
+"I was thinking about saucepans," said Wyn, peacefully, as she drew her
+needleful of silk out of the cloth and stuck in her needle with a click
+of her thimble.
+
+"Saucepans, my dear girl?"
+
+"Yes, saucepans. Where is my penny?"
+
+"Do you think pots and pans are worth such a sum?"
+
+"I wish they were not. It would be pleasant if we could stock our house
+with them at the price. No; it was Miss Willoughby's lovely
+preserving-pan that filled my thoughts. We must drive into Philmouth and
+get one to-morrow. You are so terribly addicted to jam that I expect I
+shall pass my whole career in boiling and skimming fruit!"
+
+"Yes, let us have plenty of jam," returned Claud, with interest. "Dear
+me, how entertaining all the little details of life are, to be sure. I
+don't know when I have been more excited than when I had successfully
+contrived those bookshelves; and the sinking of the well in our garden
+kept me awake two whole nights."
+
+"You silly boy! New brooms sweep clean," said his wife, laughing. "You
+will get tired of it all one day. No! I don't believe you will! We shall
+always be planning some improvement, we two. Housekeeping is a great
+pleasure."
+
+"To think we shall be under our own roof in a month's time, my child,"
+cried Claud, gleefully. "It sounds ungrateful to dear old Fowler, who is
+such a first-rate fellow; but it will be nice to be all to ourselves,
+won't it?"
+
+"Won't it!" said Wyn, rapturously, letting fall her work, while she
+gazed at her husband with devotion.
+
+"Mrs. Cranmer, come here and sit on my knee. I want to say something."
+
+"Can't you say it as we are?"
+
+"It's private and confidential."
+
+"You must put down your pipe then. I can't talk to you if you puff smoke
+in my face."
+
+He obediently laid aside the pipe and held out his arms invitingly.
+
+Wyn decorously took a seat, still armed with her work.
+
+"A gardener is sure to come by in a moment," she remarked, primly.
+
+"The entire staff of domestics may march past in procession, for aught I
+care. Don't be silly," said her husband, pinching her ear.
+
+"Well, now, what did you want to say?" asked she.
+
+"Why, that something has upset dear old Henry. I expect it is to do with
+Elsa. I know he is very anxious about her. I was down at the quarries
+this morning, and he rode up to give me the message I gave you--that he
+would not be in to dinner. I thought he seemed not quite himself, and I
+asked him what it was. He said he would tell me later. He looked most
+horribly put out."
+
+"Oh, it can't be Elsa. Why, they are coming here in the yacht to-morrow,
+to spend a week at Edge Willoughby. Something connected with business,
+it must be."
+
+"I don't think so, from his manner; but we shall see. Imagine those
+other two honey-moonists turning up to-morrow. I wonder if they enjoyed
+themselves as much as you and I did?"
+
+"They couldn't!" cried Wyn, letting her work slip from her knee, while
+she took her husband's face between her hands and caressed it. "No
+wedding-journey was ever like ours, or ever will be, will it?"
+
+"I don't quite see how it _could_," he returned, with an air of candid
+reflection. "Ours was jolly. We'll have another next year, and go
+further afield, if we can save up enough out of our income."
+
+"My dear silly, we shall save _heaps_! We are _rich_, I keep on telling
+you, but you won't believe it. Do you remember my last month's
+accounts?"
+
+"They were absurd; but we have not tried housekeeping yet."
+
+"And, as we are going to keep such a great deal of dinner company, our
+expenses will be heavy indeed."
+
+"My dear girl, reflect! Think of the cost of your preserving-pan!"
+
+"As to you, you have just bought that expensive fowling-piece. Whenever
+my weekly balance is low, I shall send you out shooting. No more
+butcher's meat till things come right again."
+
+"Ah! Henry Fowler speaks the truth. I am indeed a hen-pecked husband."
+
+"Claud! How dare you? I am sure Mr. Fowler never said such a thing."
+
+"I never said he did."
+
+"You are quite too foolish; and now you must let me go, for here comes
+George, and he is bringing the tea-tray out here."
+
+"Well done, George," said Mr. Cranmer. "Just what I feel to want. And
+there comes the postman over the bridge. Run like a good little girl and
+bring me my letters."
+
+"None for you," said Wyn, returning. "Only one for the Honorable Mrs. C.
+Cranmer, from Lady Mabel."
+
+As she stood by the rustic tea-table, opening and reading her letter,
+her husband, for the hundredth time, thought how pretty she looked.
+Fresh and dainty as to her gown, her face just tinged with color, no
+longer unnaturally thin, but alive and sparkling with animation. Her
+soft hair waved about her in the pleasant air, her sole ornaments were
+the two wide gold rings on the third finger of her left hand. Henry
+Fowler had witnessed the change he had so longed to effect in her--the
+combined result of happiness and the Combe air.
+
+From her serene brow to her neatly-shod feet, this doting Claud had not
+a fault to find with her. She was his own, the darling of his heart, the
+fulfilment of every need of his soul.
+
+But, even as he gazed, Wyn's happy face clouded; a furrow came in the
+smooth forehead.
+
+"Oh, Claud!" she said, hurriedly, "here is something very disagreeable.
+I wonder if Mr. Fowler can have heard this; it would be enough to make
+him feel very disturbed, at least. Mabel is at Moynart, and Edward
+joined her yesterday, and he says there is a hateful story about Mr.
+Percivale going the round of the clubs."
+
+"My child, there usually is a hateful story about him going the round of
+the clubs----"
+
+"Yes, but Colonel Wynch-Fr�re seems to think there is something in this
+one. The names and dates are so accurate. I--it was before my time. Did
+you ever hear of R----?"
+
+She named a notorious political offender, who, nearly thirty years
+before, fled to Germany, and there committed suicide on the eve of his
+arrest.
+
+"Yes," said Claud, thoughtfully, "I remember hearing of it. I was in the
+nursery at the time. I think Mabel and I acted the whole scene together.
+We liked a violent death of any sort. But what about him?"
+
+"They say Leon Percivale is his son."
+
+Claud raised his eyes to the scene before him. There lay the bay, there
+was the spot where the white _Swan_ had anchored. There in the dawn, a
+twelvemonth ago, he had seen the sun rise over Percivale the
+victor--Percivale, who had saved Elsa Brabourne from a stigma worse than
+death.
+
+Now the blow had fallen. The girl whom he had rescued had betrayed him,
+as Claud had feared she would. The blood rushed to his face, a storm of
+angry sorrow to his heart. Why, why had such a man wasted his heart on
+so slight a thing as Elsa?
+
+Wynifred's eyes rested keenly on her husband. She saw his silence, his
+consternation.
+
+"Oh, Claud, it is not true, is it?"
+
+"No, darling, I know that it is not true; and yet--yet--I fear there is
+some truth in it."
+
+She came close to him, laying her hands on his shoulders.
+
+"Who can have spoken of such a thing?" she said, earnestly.
+
+"There was only one human being who knew the facts," was the answer.
+"That was--his wife."
+
+"Claud, no!" Her vehemence startled him. "You should say such a thing of
+no wife!" she cried. "It is impossible--unnatural! She never could have
+betrayed such a secret!"
+
+He rose, and slipped an arm round her neck.
+
+"You judge all women by your own standard, dear."
+
+"I don't! I don't do anything of the kind! I do not think highly of
+Elsa--you know I never did! But that would be too horrible. It has come
+out some other way. No wife could be such a traitor."
+
+As she spoke the words, Henry Fowler came over the bridge; and
+instinctively they held their breath. His face looked calmer and he was
+smiling.
+
+"Well, young people," he said, brightly, "my eyes are getting old, you
+know, but I don't fancy I'm wrong. Claud, look out to sea. Isn't there a
+sail out there towards Lyme? Isn't it the cutter?"
+
+Claud turned his eyes in the direction indicated.
+
+"Right enough," he said. "If this breeze holds, she'll be here in no
+time. She has made her journey a day faster than was expected."
+
+"Ay lad! It's a year to-day since she came sailing into the bay!
+Yesterday was the night of the great storm."
+
+He turned to Wyn. "I got a bit upset to-day by some foolish talk that I
+heard in Stanton about Leon. But I've decided to think no more of it. As
+soon as I see him I know I should feel ashamed of myself to have thought
+ill of the lad--God bless him! Now, Mrs. Cranmer, a cup of tea, if you
+please, for I must be off down to the shore."
+
+Wyn slipped her letter into her pocket, and betook herself to the
+tea-pot. Her husband hastily got up, leaving his own tea almost
+untasted, and disappeared into the house to collect himself a little;
+for he felt as though his meeting with Percivale might be agitating.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER LIII.
+
+    A lie which is half the truth is even the blackest of lies.
+    For a lie which is all a lie may be met with and fought outright,
+    But a lie which is half a truth is a harder matter to fight.
+
+    _The Grandmother._
+
+
+An excited crowd had quickly collected on the beach when the news spread
+like wild-fire through the village that the _Swan_ was sailing into the
+bay.
+
+The premature arrival of the yacht was almost a disappointment to
+William Clapp, Joe Battishill and others, who were rigging up a
+triumphal arch in preparation for the morrow.
+
+Elaine's London wedding had been a great downfall to the hopes of the
+natives of the Combe; and now they desired to make up for it by
+welcoming her in a manner suitable to the triumphs she had achieved.
+
+Leon, leaning against the rail aft, as he had done a year ago, saw the
+assemblage of excited people, and a crowd of memories arose within him.
+So they had stood, a dark, eager group, on the breezy morning when first
+the Valley of Avilion had broken upon his gaze. How calm had been his
+mood, then! How serene his horizon! A tranquil peace was his habit of
+mind, no storm of passion had come to lash that deep heart of his into
+swelling waves.
+
+Since that day all had changed. His whole being had suffered revolution.
+How many sensations had successively dominated his soul! Emotion,
+excitement, longing, passion, triumph, and reaction.
+
+Yes. It had come. He had realized fully now that the glittering Eden of
+his dreams was a _mirage_ on desert sand. It was, he judged, his own
+fault from beginning to end. He had started on a wrong tack. He had
+begun life all theories and no experience, and one by one his sweet
+delusions had suffered shipwreck.
+
+He had married with no practical knowledge of women, their wants and
+their ways; for of course he imagined that all women were like Elsa. He
+found her unreasonable, exacting, pettish if thwarted, absolutely
+unsympathetic, and with a mind incapable of comprehending his. All these
+failings he unhesitatingly ascribed to her sex. He believed that he
+ought to have been prepared to find her thus merely because she was a
+woman.
+
+He was passing through the bitter stage of disillusioning which Claud
+had prophesied for him.
+
+This afternoon he was feeling specially unhappy, for Elsa so disliked
+the idea of coming to Edge at all that she had been sulky ever since
+they embarked. He had been impressed with the conviction that it was
+imperative that she should pay a short visit there, as Miss Ellen, who
+was failing rapidly, was longing to see her. Accordingly, he had exerted
+his naturally strong will and carried her off, and she had been making
+him feel it ever since. To add to her vexation, her maid was always ill
+on the water; so that Leon was devoutly thankful that the wind had
+enabled him to make his cruise shorter than he had anticipated.
+
+As the smiling shores of the lovely bay became distinct, he rose and
+went below to the dainty and exquisite little saloon, where his wife was
+reclining with a novel.
+
+"Elsa, we are nearly there," he said, "and there is quite a mob
+collected to watch our arrival."
+
+"No! really! is there?" she said, sitting up with some appearance of
+interest. "I never thought they would think of giving us a reception.
+What a pity I did not change my gown! Is it too late?"
+
+"You look perfectly well as you are," he answered, with a sorrowfully
+tender gaze at the graceful form in its natty blue serge and coquettish
+sailor-hat.
+
+"Oh, that is like you--you never care what I wear! I really think I'll
+change. What a bother Mathilde is to be sick like this! But you can hook
+my skirt, can't you, Leon?"
+
+"My dear little woman, we shall be on shore in five minutes. You must
+come on deck directly. Be quick--I want to see who is there to greet
+us."
+
+"How tiresome! Why didn't you remind me that the people would turn out
+to look at us?" she complained. "I do hate to feel shabby."
+
+"Elsa! you look perfectly charming! Do you suppose the villagers can
+distinguish between the prices of your gowns?" He coaxingly put his arm
+round her. "I want to feel proud of my wife," he said. "Put on your best
+smile for the people, darling."
+
+In this wise he managed to persuade her into showing herself on deck
+just in time. As the _Swan_ drew on gracefully close in shore, a hearty
+cheer greeted the young couple as they stood side by side.
+
+"There are Cranmer and his wife, besides dear old Fowler!" cried Leon,
+gladly, as he waved his cap. "How pleasant to have Claud here--it seems
+so long since I saw him--not since our wedding-day!"
+
+"Humph! You are a civil bridegroom! I am sorry that time has passed so
+tediously," said Elsa, in some real and some pretended annoyance. "But
+is that really Wynifred Allonby--Cranmer, I mean? How she has improved
+in looks! I suppose it is because she is better dressed. Mr. Cranmer
+looks well, too."
+
+In a few minutes they were all on shore together, in the midst of
+greetings.
+
+As Claud and Percivale joined hands, their eyes met in a long,
+searching, mutual inquiry. One moment showed Claud that his friend had
+not found perfect happiness. He was changed; he looked older, and the
+expression of his eyes and mouth seemed to tell of mental suffering.
+
+Claud's own obvious, radiant content was in sharp contrast.
+
+"Well, Claud, my dear friend, I was astonished, I confess," faltered
+Leon. "But I must congratulate you. You look very happy."
+
+"Happy! I should think so. I have my heart's desire," smiled Claud. "The
+only times that anything has power to vex me are the moments when she is
+out of sight; and I believe they will always be few and far between."
+
+Leon looked earnestly at him.
+
+"That _is_ happiness," he said.
+
+Mr. Fowler and the Cranmers dined at Edge Willoughby.
+
+It was a hot night--so sultry as to suggest the proverbial thunderstorm,
+though the sky was clear and starry.
+
+All dinner-time Percivale's sad eyes haunted Wynifred uncomfortably. He
+seemed to be studying her own and her husband's entire sympathy with a
+wistful appeal, as if wondering how it was that he and Elsa had come so
+terribly short of it.
+
+Mrs. Leon Percivale was in her most gracious mood. The public reception
+had gratified her, and to trail her new gowns up and down the familiar
+corridors of Edge Willoughby, to the awe of Jane Gollop and the rest of
+the staff of elderly retainers, was not without its charm. She wore a
+dazzling evening toilette, and looked like a beautiful apparition as she
+sat between her godfather and Claud in smiling quiescence, talking, as
+was her wont, very little.
+
+The company separated early, as was their country fashion,--Wynifred to
+walk peacefully home to Lower House with her husband and Mr. Fowler,
+through the meadow foot paths.
+
+They went in silence for some distance. Percivale had strolled as far as
+the end of the terrace with them, and bidden them good night at the
+stile. His tone appeared to have cast a gloom over all three; something
+there was in his whole manner which was inexpressibly sad. They felt it
+without knowing why. Henry spoke at last.
+
+"Percivale does not look well," he said.
+
+"No; Mabel has several times said so in writing," replied Claud. "She
+thinks London life does not suit him. I daresay a cruise will set him
+up. That is why she made this suggestion of his fetching her from
+Clovelly. I think he seems to like the idea."
+
+"Yes; but Elsa does not care to be left here alone while he goes; so I
+am afraid he will have to give it up," returned Mr. Fowler, with a sigh.
+
+Lady Mabel had taken a farm house at Edge for her children and their
+governess, and had written to say that, if the _Swan_ was really there,
+it would be very delightful to be fetched, and enjoy a cruise round the
+Cornish coast. The suggestion had brought a ray of brightness to Leon's
+face. To be at sea again, in his beloved _Swan_, was what he relished.
+He would like to go; but Elsa did not approve. She declined to accompany
+him, and declined to let him go without her.
+
+"I will not go cruising with a sick maid," she said, simply, "and I will
+not go cruising without a maid; and I will not be left in this dull
+place by myself. So you can't go, Leon."
+
+"I am glad, on the whole, that my wife does not require a maid," said
+Claud, with Wyn's hand held closely against his side.
+
+"You make such a charming lady's-maid that I require no other," she
+laughed. "Imagine, Mr. Fowler! He can do my hair beautifully. What it is
+to have a husband who can turn his hand to anything!"
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER LIV.
+
+    There is nothing to remember in me,
+    Nothing I ever said with a grace,
+    Nothing I did that you care to see,
+    Nothing I was that deserves a place
+    In your mind, now I leave you, set you free.
+
+    How strange it were, if you had all me
+    As I have all you in my heart and brain,
+    You, whose least word brought gloom or glee,
+    Who never yet lifted the hand in vain
+    Will hold mine yet, from over the sea!
+
+    _James Lee's Wife._
+
+
+Percivale strolled back alone up the garden path. The night was
+motionless and heavy. A lethargy seemed to lie on his soul like a
+weight. To-night he had realized a new thing. He had seen that the
+wedded bliss he had figured to himself was no dream, but a human
+possibility, which some attained, but which he had missed. How had he
+missed it?
+
+Was it possible that he had married the wrong woman?
+
+"Oh, Love, Love, no!" he cried, in his remorse. The fault was his, in
+some way, of that he was very sure. Had that unknown mother of his
+lived, she would have been his counsellor, and have shown him where he
+failed. His deep eyes filled with tears as the thought of that mother
+beyond the stars came vividly upon his soul. He felt a longing to be
+comforted--to have his unbroken loneliness scattered and dissipated by
+tender hands which should draw his weary head down lovingly to rest on a
+sympathetic breast, and, while telling him what had been his error,
+whisper consolation.
+
+If there was one thing more than another for which he could not possibly
+look to his wife, it was for this. Elsa expected him to have his
+attention always fixed on her and her requirements. The idea that he
+could ever ail in mind or body never occurred to her.
+
+He stood in the porch of Edge Willoughby, the suffocating sweetness of
+the verbena-bush, which grew beside the door, suffusing the air all
+round him. He remembered the night when he stood there with Fowler and
+Claud, just a year ago, bearing the news of Elsa's innocence.
+
+If he could but charm away this bitter sense of failure!
+
+A sudden determination to make one desperate appeal to his wife dawned
+in his heart. When first they were married he told himself she was in
+awe of him, she had not understood him. Now that she knew him better,
+was there not a chance that she might comprehend the fierce hunger which
+was in his heart? Surely yes.
+
+Meditatively he walked down the hall.
+
+As he passed along, his eye was attracted by a newspaper lying on the
+ground, folded tightly together as if it had fallen from some one's coat
+pocket.
+
+Stooping absently he picked it up, with intent to lay it on the
+hall-table near. As he did so, his eye fell on a paragraph scored at the
+side with a pencil-mark. One word in that paragraph struck him like a
+blow. He started, stared, half laughed like one whom a chance
+coincidence has disturbed; then, his eyes travelling on, he slowly
+whitened and stiffened where he stood, his attitude that of a man
+thunder-struck.
+
+For a couple of minutes or more he remained motionless, then put up an
+uncertain hand to his eyes as if to clear away a mist.
+
+After another pause, he laid his left hand firmly against the hall-table
+near which he stood, and, so fortified, read the passage through.
+
+The word which had first caught his eye was Littsdorf, the name of the
+obscure village of North Germany where his father and his mother lay
+buried. Glancing higher on the page he saw his father's name printed in
+full, and his own relationship to him openly proclaimed. So far, true;
+but the account then became inaccurate, repeating the old story of
+corruption and suicide which had so long passed current.
+
+As it stood it was not the truth as he had told it to his wife, yet
+there were certain things in it which surely no one could have known
+except from his wife's lips.
+
+Violently he repelled the thought, as if to think it were a sin. She!
+What, she! To whom he had trusted his honor--in whose hands he had laid
+his life and love--at whose feet he had heaped up the incense of a
+devotion which was all hers, and had never for a moment leaned towards
+any other woman!
+
+And yet--yet--_Littsdorf_!
+
+The writer of the paragraph must evidently have visited the place, to
+collect the names, dates, and inscriptions on the lonely grave of his
+mother in the little _Friedhof_. Chance might have taken him there; but
+could chance connect the name of R---- with the name of Percivale?
+
+In comparison with the horror of this thought, the publication of this
+strange hash of truth and falsehood troubled him but little. Too many
+false reports of him had been circulated for the public to pay much
+extra heed to this last. If Henry Fowler questioned him, he could easily
+tell him the truth; but this thought--this ghastly chill which crept
+over him--this horrible suspicion that his wife had discussed the
+innermost core of her husband's heart with some casual acquaintance!
+
+It was not true. It could not be. It must not be, or there seemed an end
+to all possibility of living on in the shattered temple of his broken
+idol. No! It must be some other way; some strange, marvellous
+coincidence must be at the root of it.
+
+He would go to his darling and look her in the face--feel the pressure
+of her little hand, and curse himself for the unworthiness of his
+thought.
+
+With a strenuous effort, he steadied himself mentally and struggled for
+his habitual calm. He determined not to go to his wife in the present
+excited condition of his nerves, lest he might say something which he
+should regret. He had not yet fully considered the bearings of the
+subject. Perhaps after all his fear was groundless. Was not some other
+solution possible?
+
+Again he went out into the night, and for half-an-hour his restless feet
+trod the terrace, up and down, up and down, while he tried to banish
+suspicion.
+
+What a coward and traitor was the man who could doubt his own wife
+without proof! Anything else might happen--a miracle might have revealed
+the closely hidden secret; anything but _that_.
+
+The big hall clock striking midnight made him start. He must go indoors
+or he would waken Elsa, and nothing so put her out of temper as to be
+waked from her first sleep.
+
+He went indoors, shutting out the hot and heavy darkness of the night
+with a sigh almost of relief, drew the bolts into their places,
+extinguished the hall lamp, and quietly went upstairs through the silent
+house.
+
+He expected to find his room in darkness, but, rather to his surprise,
+lights were burning, and Elsa sat in an armchair, reading a novel. She
+glanced up, and yawned as he entered.
+
+The room was transformed since the arrival of Mrs. Percivale's trunks
+and Mrs. Percivale's maid. A mass of various articles of apparel strewed
+the chairs and sofa, the dressing table groaned under its load of
+silver-topped essence-bottles, ivory brushes, hair-curling apparatus,
+and so forth. The mantel-piece was adorned with knick-knack frames
+containing photographs of a certain tenor who sang in the opera in
+Paris, and for whom Elsa had conceived a violent admiration.
+
+The young lady herself was in _d�shabill�_; she never looked more
+beautiful than when half-dressed. She wore a white embroidered petticoat
+and low bodice, much trimmed with lace. Her golden hair streamed all
+over her creamy neck and arms.
+
+Tossing away her book, she yawned and laughed, lifting said arms and
+folding them behind her head.
+
+"Oh, is it you? Just fancy! How late it is. I was so tired of trying to
+undress myself, for Mathilde went to bed the minute she arrived, and I
+won't let old Jane touch me. So I felt so hot, and I sat down to rest;
+and this book was so fascinating that" (yawn) "I've been reading ever
+since." The last five words were almost lost in a large yawn. "Isn't it
+hot, Leon?"
+
+"Very," he said, as he closed the door, and, drawing up a chair, took a
+seat at her side. "I am glad you are up still, though. I was afraid I
+should wake you."
+
+"No; I am not very sleepy. I feel inclined to sit up and finish my
+book."
+
+"Sit up and talk to me instead," he said, taking one of her hands in
+his, and looking down lovingly at its slender grace. "The coming back to
+this place has put me in mind of so many things, my darling, I have been
+remembering the night--just such a night as this--when I saw you lying
+asleep on Miss Ellen's bed, dressed in blue----"
+
+"Oh, yes!" her laugh broke in. "That fearful old dressing-gown of Aunt
+Ellen's! What a fright I felt! I was so ashamed for you to see me. It
+had shrunk in the wash. Did you notice?"
+
+"My own, I thought you were the most perfect creature I had ever looked
+upon--as I think still."
+
+"It is rather disappointing, Leon, to find that you don't like me a bit
+better, now that I really do dress properly, than when I was such a
+frump. Look at that now," indicating, with a white satin-shod foot, the
+wondrous toilette she had worn that evening, which lay across a chair
+near. "That really _is_ pretty, if you like; but it is nonsense to tell
+me that I looked well in that old blue dressing-gown."
+
+"I tell you that you looked lovely--lovely! There you lay, calmly
+sleeping, with your life shadowed over by a false accusation!" Falling
+on his knees beside her chair, he caught her in his arms in an
+irresistible access of love. Could he suspect her--he, the champion of
+her innocence when everyone else forsook her?
+
+His head, with its soft curls, lay against her neck. In a passing
+impulse of affection, begotten of the novel she had been reading, she
+bent down, kissed him, and stroked his hair.
+
+"Be a good boy, and don't suffocate me quite," said she. "It is very hot
+to-night."
+
+He did not lift his head, but still clasped her close.
+
+"Elsa, my sweet," he said, "I am ashamed to look in your face. I feel a
+traitor; I have been thinking evil of you, my heart! I want to
+confess--to tell you of it. May I?"
+
+"I"--yawn--"suppose so. Yes. But don't be long. I think I'll go to bed
+now."
+
+"To think that I was mean enough, poor-spirited enough, in face of a few
+suspicious circumstances, to dream that my wife would break her word to
+me, would shatter my trust in her, by talking of my private affairs, of
+the secret which I gave her to guard----"
+
+He felt the girl start in his arms, and a corresponding thrill, a sudden
+sense of horror, went through him. Letting her go out of his clasp, and
+lifting his eyes to her face, he saw her crimson from brow to chin.
+
+"What made you say that, Leon?" she asked sharply.
+
+"This," he said, as, scarcely knowing what he did, he laid the paper on
+her knee.
+
+She took it up and read it quickly through, the color ebbing and coming
+as she sat.
+
+His heart was beating so fast he could hardly breathe, his whole soul
+sick with an awful fear. The paper fell on her lap, and she remained
+still, as if not knowing what to say.
+
+"Elsa," he cried, "how could those words have been written unless the
+writer of them knew--what you know?"
+
+The girl tossed the paper from her, flinging herself back in her chair
+defiantly.
+
+"That mean, hateful woman," she cried, with passion. "She deserves--what
+does she not deserve?--when she solemnly vowed to me not to tell a
+soul----"
+
+She stopped short, the words died away. The blaze in Percivale's eyes
+seemed to wither and strike her dumb.
+
+"Elsa!" Rising, he stood before her, laying his hands on her shoulders.
+"Do you mean to tell me that you have been speaking of what should be
+sacred in your eyes--no, no! Consider what you are saying."
+
+"Nonsense, Leon!" Angry tears sprang to her eyes. "Let go of me--you
+hurt! You speak as if I were a criminal."
+
+His face, as his hold relaxed and stepped back, was pitiful to behold.
+
+"To a woman," he said. "To what woman?"
+
+"To that odious Mrs. Orton."
+
+"Elsa, you are mad! _Mrs. Orton?_"
+
+"Leon, you don't know what hateful things she said of you. She said she
+knew them for facts. I was obliged to tell her the real truth, I could
+not stand to have her pitying me, and telling me she knew better than I
+did. And she declared she would not tell. I made her promise."
+
+He laughed harshly.
+
+"So, though you could betray your husband's confidence, you did not
+think that she could betray yours! Oh, Elsa! Elsa!... God help me!"
+
+"Leon, it is very inconsiderate and unkind of you to frighten me so!
+I--I--shall faint or something. What harm so very great have I done?
+They often put stories about you in the papers. Nobody will know that
+this is true."
+
+"The world may know, for aught I care. What is the world to me? Less
+than nothing. All my life I have never valued public opinion. I could
+bear with perfect fortitude to be an outlaw--tabooed by society, if--if
+I knew there lived on earth one woman I could trust."
+
+He went to the window. The purple darkness outside seemed in sympathy
+with him. The verbena scent welled up in waves of perfume. Elsa began to
+cry bitterly, and then to let fall a torrent of excuses.
+
+She had done it for him, because she hated to hear a spiteful woman
+speak ill of him. It was because she loved him so that she had been
+tempted; and there was no great harm done, and now he spoke to her as if
+she were a dog. He was unkind, he terrified her. She would not bear to
+be so scolded, she was not a child any more, etc.
+
+Through it all Percivale stood immovable by the window, wondering what
+could possibly happen next. He felt rather like a man who, having
+received his death-blow, awaits with a dumb patience the moment when
+death itself shall follow. Was this woman really the Elsa of his
+adoration? Had he indeed to this slight, trifling, deceitful nature
+surrendered himself body and soul as a slave? How could he live on, a
+long life through, with a wife whom he despised?
+
+Despised? His feeling came nearer to loathing than to contempt as he
+looked at her. Her very beauty sickened him--the outer covering which
+had won his fancy. He hated himself for ever having loved her.
+
+She could not see that it was the act itself, not the consequences of
+it, which he so condemned. So small was her nature that she was unable
+even to comprehend her transgression. He could not make her understand
+the horror with which he must regard such a breach of trust.
+
+"There was no great harm done?" was her cry.
+
+"Harm!" he said, brokenly. "There is murder done. You have killed my
+faith, Elsa, for ever more."
+
+"It is very rude and unkind to say that you will never tell me anything
+again, just because I let out this one thing. And I only told one
+person. I never so much as mentioned it to anyone else. I might have
+published it all over London, to hear you talk!"
+
+It was impossible to answer a speech like this. She had _only_ betrayed
+him to one person! She had _not so much as mentioned it_ to anyone else!
+And this was his wife, his ideal!
+
+Claud Cranmer had said,
+
+"If you wish to preserve your ideal, you must not marry her."
+
+He sank into a chair, covered his face, and groaned.
+
+"Come, Leon, don't behave like that--you are the most unreasonable
+person I ever met!" cried Elsa. "Go away, please, to your dressing-room,
+and leave me alone. I want to go to bed. You have made me cry so that my
+eyes are scarlet, and my head feels like lead. I think you are extremely
+unkind; when I have told you I am very sorry, and begged you pardon. I
+don't see what more I can do."
+
+"No, Elsa," he said, rising, "you can do nothing more. You cannot make
+yourself a different woman; and nothing short of that would avail to
+help us much."
+
+He passed her without looking at her, and shut himself into his
+dressing-room.
+
+His wife crossed the room, and stared at herself in the glass.
+
+"I know my eye-lids will be all swelled to-morrow," she thought, with a
+keen sense of injury. "I never saw Leon in such a rage. I hope he will
+soon get over it. I don't think he is a very good-tempered man; I call
+him rather sulky. Osmond was much greater fun."
+
+A few minutes after she was in bed, the door opened and Percivale came
+in. He had changed his dress clothes for his yachting suit, and his cap
+was in his hand.
+
+"Leon! Are you mad?" cried Elsa.
+
+"I think not," he said, gravely, as he came to her bedside,
+"but--but--Elsa, forgive me, I cannot stay here and go on as if nothing
+had happened. You have given me too severe a shock for me to recover
+from all at once."
+
+"Leon, what nonsense! You talk in such a strange way sometimes I think
+you cannot be quite right in your head. I do not understand you."
+
+"No," he said, his voice almost a cry, "that is the trouble, Elsa. You
+do not understood me. I have not understood you either. I have been
+mistaken. I was ignorant of life. I did not know you, and now that,
+suddenly, I have seen you _as you are_, and not as I fancied you, I must
+have time to grow used to the idea. Poor child, poor child! You could
+not help it. It is I who am to blame, far more than you. Forgive me that
+I expected too much."
+
+"What are you going to do? Go away and leave me alone here with the
+aunts for a punishment?"
+
+"I am going to take the yacht round to Clovelly for Lady Mabel, as was
+suggested. It will not be very long, and by the time I come back I shall
+be calmer. I shall be able to face this new aspect of things better.
+Elsa, Elsa, have you no word for me--nothing to heal the wound you have
+made? Do you not see, my child, what you have done? Can't you realize
+how despicable a part you have played! Elsa, face this conduct of
+yours--what should you say of another man's wife who had betrayed her
+husband's confidence to his enemy--abused the trust confided to her? Can
+you not even see the nature of your fault as it is?"
+
+"I have said I am sorry, and I will say it again if it will please you.
+I know it was stupid to tell her. I thought so several times afterwards.
+I did not like to tell you; but I do think you make too much fuss, Leon.
+A thing is out before you know it, but I can't see that it is such a sin
+as you want to make out."
+
+He tried no more. He bowed his head to utter failure.
+
+Stooping, he gently put his lips to his wife's pure brow, shaded with
+its innocent-looking curls of gold.
+
+"Poor child," he said, tenderly, "poor, beautiful child. Sleep, Elsa, I
+must not keep you awake, or make you grieve. It would spoil your beauty;
+and it is your mission to be beautiful. Good-night!--good-night! I am
+not angry with you."
+
+"Then why do you go rushing off in the middle of the night instead of
+coming to bed like a Christian?" she cried, pitifully. "Leon, Leon, why
+are you so strange--so unaccountable! You make me so unhappy--without my
+knowing why! You--you are--so very _very_ hard on me!" Suddenly she
+burst into a passion of tears. Lifting herself from her pillows, she
+cast both arms round him, clinging to him. "I--I do love you," she
+gasped, "don't be so cruel to me, don't!" The tears welled up in the
+young man's beautiful eyes in sympathetic response.
+
+He drew the lovely head down upon his breast, and soothed her with
+infinite compassion. Like Arthur, the stainless gentleman whose wife had
+failed him in another--a worse way--"his vast pity almost made him die,"
+as he held her closely, caressing her like a child until her sobs had
+ceased.
+
+"You are not angry any more?" she asked at last, lifting her wet
+eye-lashes with a wistful, appealing glance.
+
+"No, Elsa, no. I am not angry. I am penitent. There is no need to make
+yourself unhappy. Go to sleep."
+
+"I am very sleepy," she sighed, "but you will wake me if you move me."
+
+"I will sit here until you sleep."
+
+"Thank you. You are a good, dear boy. Good-night, Leon."
+
+"Good-night, Elsa."
+
+There was stillness in the room--utter stillness as at last Percivale
+laid his sleeping wife down, and, bending over her, bestowed a parting
+kiss.
+
+He felt somewhat as a man who gazes upon the dead form of one beloved.
+
+His dream-Elsa was a thing of the past--vanished, dead.
+
+What would the fresh life be like which he must begin with her? A life
+of strain--of the heavy knowledge that never while he lived could he
+hope for sympathy, could he satisfy the mighty craving of his soul for a
+wife who should be to him what Claud Cranmer's wife was to her husband.
+
+Everything was changed.
+
+Never, in all his solitary youth, in all the remote wanderings of the
+_Swan_, not even when he laid to rest his tutor, the one friend of his
+childhood, had he felt the terror of loneliness as he felt it now. It
+was grey dawn when he came down to the beach. M�ller, who was on the
+look-out, saw the misty figure of his master standing upon the shore,
+and at once launched the gig and took him on board.
+
+With the gradual dawn, a faint breeze sprang up and lifted the mist that
+hung over the sea.
+
+It filled the _Swan's_ white wings as it rose and freshened, and just as
+the sun rose, she sailed out of the bay, her master, silent and pallid,
+standing on the deck, watching the dim roof which covered his perished
+hopes.
+
+There lay the Lower House, snug in the valley. He sent an unspoken
+farewell to the good Henry, and to the happy husband and wife who were
+probably just awaking to a fresh day of love and hope and mutual help.
+
+The warm sun-rays gilded Percivale's bright head, and glorified the
+still features as he stood. Old M�ller looked anxiously at him.
+Something was wrong, he guessed, and yet--oh, the joy to be putting to
+sea again as in old days, free and untrammelled by the fashionable wife
+or the sick maid!
+
+The old man's spirit leaped up with the red sun. His blood rose, his eye
+kindled.
+
+The bonnie yacht bounded over the freshening waves, the day laughed
+broadly over the sea, and the crew, animated by M�ller's delight, sang
+their _Volkslieder_ as they went about their work.
+
+That night, the last sultry heat of autumn burst in a storm more violent
+than Edge Combe had known for half a century. The first of the
+equinoctial gales raged from the south west, thundering against the
+battlemented crags of Cornwall, shrieking up the Devonshire valleys.
+
+More than one large ship went to pieces on the wild coast; and fragments
+of wrecks were washed ashore at Brent and in Edge Bay.
+
+But no trace of the _Swan_ or of any of those on board of her was ever
+carried by the relentless ocean within reach of the hearts that ached
+and longed for tidings of her fate. She had vanished as she had first
+appeared, mysteriously, in a tempest.
+
+To the fisher-folk there seemed to be something supernatural alike in
+her arrival and her disappearance.
+
+For months they cherished among themselves the belief that she would
+return one day--that somewhere, in some distant port, or in far sunny
+seas she was gliding like a big white bird along her mysterious course.
+
+They argued that some trace of her must have come ashore somewhere--she
+was cruising so near the coast, some fragment of her must have been
+washed up at some point--some dead sailor have been floated in on the
+tide wearing the white _Swan_ worked on his jersey, to be a silent
+witness of the destruction of the yacht.
+
+But no! No news, no sign, no trace of her end was ever forthcoming. She
+seemed to have melted away like a mythical ship into the regions of
+legend.
+
+And it has now become a tradition in the Combe that if ever the day
+should come when some wrong done there shall cry aloud for justice, and
+there is none to help, that, on that day, will be seen the white _Swan_
+sailing into the bay in the sunshine, and her owner standing on her deck
+like a hero of ancient story, as he stood when first he approached the
+Valley of Avilion ready to champion the Truth.
+
+
+THE END.
+
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+
+THE CURSE OF CARNE'S HOLD,
+
+A STORY OF ADVENTURE.
+
+
+From our perusal of the book we have no hesitation in declaring that the
+Story will be enjoyed by all classes of Readers. Their sympathies will
+be at once aroused in the characters first introduced to their notice,
+and in the circumstances attending a lamentable catastrophe, which
+breaks up a happy household in grief and despair. The hero of the story,
+broken-hearted and despairing, flees to the Cape, determined if possible
+to lose his life in battle. He joins the Cape Mounted Rifles, and in
+active service finds the best solace for his dejected spirits. Romance
+is again infused into his life by his success in rescuing from the
+Kaffirs a young and beautiful lady, whom he gallantly bears on horseback
+beyond reach of their spears.
+
+From this point the Story takes up novel and startling developments. The
+hero's affairs in the old country are adjusted by a surprising
+discovery, and "The Curse of Carne's Hold" is brought to a happy and
+satisfactory conclusion.
+
+Few authors possess in so eminent a degree as Mr. G. A. Henty the
+ability to produce stories full of thrilling situations, while at the
+same time preserving and inculcating a high moral tone throughout. As a
+writer of stories fitted for the home circle he is surpassed by none.
+His books for boys have gained for him an honoured place in parent's
+hearts. Whilst satisfying the youthful longing for adventures they
+inspire admiration for straightforwardness, truth and courage, never
+exceed the bounds of veracity, and in many ways are highly instructive.
+From the first word to the last they are interesting--full of go,
+freshness and verve. Mr. Henty fortunately for his readers, had an
+extensive personal experience of adventures and "moving accidents by
+flood and field," while acting as war correspondent. He has a vivid and
+picturesque style of narrative, and we have reason to say "The Curse of
+Carne's Hold" is written in his very best style.
+
+
+
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+
+
+
+Transcriber's note:
+
+Variations in hyphens left as printed.
+
+
+
+***END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE TREE OF KNOWLEDGE***
+
+
+******* This file should be named 39366-8.txt or 39366-8.zip *******
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+<body>
+<h1>The Project Gutenberg eBook, The Tree of Knowledge, by Mrs. Baillie
+Reynolds</h1>
+<pre>
+This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with
+almost no restrictions whatsoever.  You may copy it, give it away or
+re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included
+with this eBook or online at <a href = "http://www.gutenberg.org">www.gutenberg.org</a></pre>
+<p>Title: The Tree of Knowledge</p>
+<p>       A Novel</p>
+<p>Author: Mrs. Baillie Reynolds</p>
+<p>Release Date: April 4, 2012  [eBook #39366]</p>
+<p>Language: English</p>
+<p>Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1</p>
+<p>***START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE TREE OF KNOWLEDGE***</p>
+<p>&nbsp;</p>
+<h4>E-text prepared by Robert Cicconetti, Mary Meehan,<br />
+    and the Online Distributed Proofreading Team<br />
+    (<a href="http://www.pgdp.net">http://www.pgdp.net</a>)<br />
+    from page images generously made available by<br />
+    Early Canadiana Online<br />
+    (<a href="http://www.canadiana.org">http://www.canadiana.org</a>)</h4>
+<p>&nbsp;</p>
+<table border="0" style="background-color: #ccccff;margin: 0 auto;" cellpadding="10">
+  <tr>
+    <td valign="top">
+      Note:
+    </td>
+    <td>
+      Images of the original pages are available through
+      Early Canadiana Online. See
+      <a href="http://eco.canadiana.ca/view/oocihm.12432/">
+      http://eco.canadiana.ca/view/oocihm.12432/</a>
+	</td>
+  </tr>
+</table>
+<p>&nbsp;</p>
+<hr class="full" />
+<p>&nbsp;</p>
+<p>&nbsp;</p>
+<p>&nbsp;</p>
+
+
+<h1>THE TREE OF KNOWLEDGE.</h1>
+
+<h3>A NOVEL.</h3>
+
+<h2>BY G. M. ROBINS,</h2>
+
+<h3><i>Author of "Keep My Secret," "A False Position," etc.</i></h3>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i16">"What so false as truth is,<br /></span>
+<span class="i18">False to thee?<br /></span>
+<span class="i16">Where the serpent's tooth is,<br /></span>
+<span class="i18">Shun the tree&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i16">Where the apple reddens,<br /></span>
+<span class="i18">Never pry&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i16">Lest we lose our Edens,<br /></span>
+<span class="i18">Eve and I!"<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i20"><i>A Woman's Last Word.</i><br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+<p class="center">MONTREAL:<br />
+JOHN LOVELL &amp; SON,<br />
+<span class="smcap">23 St. Nicholas Street</span>.</p>
+
+<p>Entered according to Act of Parliament in the year 1889, by
+John Lovell &amp; Son, in the office of the Minister of Agriculture
+and Statistics at Ottawa.</p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<h2>THE TREE OF KNOWLEDGE.</h2>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<h2>CHAPTER I.</h2>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i12">Where I will heal me of my grievous wound.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i24"><i>Mort d'Arthur.</i><br /></span>
+</div></div>
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+
+<p>Anyone who has read the <i>Mort d'Arthur</i> can hardly fail, if he traverse
+the Combe of Edge in early summer, to be struck by its resemblance to
+the fairy Valley of Avilion.</p>
+
+<p>A spot still by good fortune remote from rail, and therefore lying fresh
+and unsullied between its protecting hills, waiting, like the pearl of
+great price, to reward the eye of the diligent seeker after beauty. It
+seems hard, at first glance, to believe that the rigors of an English
+winter can ever sweep across its sunny uplands.</p>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">"Where falls not rain, nor hail, nor any snow,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Nor ever wind blows loudly; but it lies<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Deep-meadowed, happy, fair with orchard lawns<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And bowery willows, crowned with summer sea."<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+<p>As regards the falling of rain and hail, and the buffeting of winds, it
+is to be supposed the place does not, literally speaking, resemble the
+mystic Isle; but it was a fact, as Allonby had just elicited from the
+oldest inhabitant, that snow had only three times lain on the hills
+within his memory.</p>
+
+<p>To the young man himself, as he sat in a patch of shade just outside the
+rural inn, with a tankard of cider in his hand, and his long legs
+extended in an attitude of blissful rest, it seemed as if the remainder
+of the description must be also true.</p>
+
+<p>Up over his head, the sky was blue&mdash;how blue! An unseen lark trembled
+somewhere in its depths, and its song dropped earthwards in trills of
+melody.</p>
+
+<p>It was that loveliest season of the English summer which comes before
+the cutting of the grass. All up the sides of the valley the meadows
+were ripe for the scythe; the dark-red spires of the sorrel and the
+white stars of the ox-eye daisy bent softly in the warm south breeze.
+Down below the level of the eye, in the very heart of the Combe, a
+fringe of reeds and little willows marked the lowly course of the brook.
+No one who noted its insignificant proportions would have
+guessed&mdash;unless he were a true disciple of Isaak Walton&mdash;what plump
+trout glided over its clear gravel bed.</p>
+
+<p>In the fine pasturage of the glebe meadows, the red-brown cows were
+gathered under a tree, out of the hot sparkle of the sun. The orchards
+had lost their bewildering glory of bloom, except just here and there,
+where a late apple-tree shoot was still decorated with coral-tinted
+wreath.</p>
+
+<p>And beyond the orchards was the crown of summer sea&mdash;</p>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">"The liquid azure bloom of a crescent of sea,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The silent sapphire-spangled marriage-ring of the land,"<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+<p>thought Allonby, who was altogether in a Tennysonian frame of mind that
+morning. He could not help it. The fresh loveliness of his surroundings
+impressed him with a dreamy delight, and he loved nothing so well as the
+luxury of yielding to his impressions. He was filled with a blending of
+indescribable emotions, longings, desires; wondering how anyone managed
+to live in London and yet retain any powers of mind and thought.</p>
+
+<p>"I have been here two days," he sighed, "and my range of ideas is
+stretching, stretching, like the handkerchief in the fairy-tale which
+stretched into a gown. My horizon is widening, my standard of perfection
+is rising; I shall either die, if it goes on much longer, or become a
+totally different person. Farewell, my old self, with your trivial
+daubs, your dingy studio, your faded London models. Let us go in for the
+shearing of sheep under burning skies, for moon-rise on the waters of an
+endless sea, for the white, dusty perspective of the village street, or
+for Mary, the maid of the inn!"</p>
+
+<p>Mr. Allonby, as will have been gathered from this fragment, was not a
+strikingly coherent thinker; but to-day he was certainly more
+wool-gathering than usual, and he had not even strength to be angry with
+himself for the same.</p>
+
+<p>"Temperament," he went on, lazily "national temperament, is entirely
+the result of climatic influence. I fancy I've heard that sentiment
+before&mdash;I have a dim idea that I have heard it frequently; but I have
+never till this moment realised it thoroughly. I now give it the
+sanction of my unqualified assent. They say of us, that no Englishman
+understands how to <i>fl�ner</i>. How the devil could anyone <i>fl�ner</i> in the
+shades of a London fog? Is east wind conducive to lounging in the
+centres of squares? or a ceaseless downpour the best accompaniment to a
+meal taken out of doors? No, indeed! Give me only a landscape like the
+present, and six weeks of days such as this, and I will undertake to
+rival the veriest <i>fl�neur</i> that ever strolled in a Neapolitan market.
+How sweet-tempered I should grow, too! Even now I recall, dimly as in a
+dream, the herds of cross and disagreeable people who struggle into
+omnibuses at Piccadilly Circus. Why, oh, why do they do it? Do they
+really imagine it worth the trouble? Why don't they tear off their
+mittens and mackintoshes, fling away their tall hats, their parcels,
+their gamps, and make one simultaneous rush for the Island Valley of
+Avilion?"</p>
+
+<p>And, as he thus mused, arose straightway before his imagination&mdash;which
+was keen&mdash;a vision of such a crowd as emanates, on a wet night, from a
+Metropolitan railway-station&mdash;of such a crowd pouring from an imaginary
+terminus, and flocking down that poetic village street, inundating the
+grass-grown curve of beach in the bay, swarming in a black herd up the
+warm red sides of the peaceful cliff.</p>
+
+<p>"Jove!" he ejaculated, under his breath, "how they would spoil the
+place!"</p>
+
+<p>And he checked his philanthropic desire that all his fellow Londoners
+should come to learn lounging in this ideal village. His beatific
+musings were broken into by the appearance of the inn-keeper's young
+daughter, "Mary, the maid of the inn," as he had named her, though her
+parents had christened her Sarah.</p>
+
+<p>She came walking awkwardly through the cool dark passage, and poked her
+pretty, tow-colored head round the doorway, to obtain a side scrutiny of
+her father's guest, who was an object of great interest to her.</p>
+
+<p>"Me mother said I was t'ask yer if yer was goin' to get your dinner
+aout, same as yesterday, or if yer'd get yer dinner here to-day?"</p>
+
+<p>This question brought Allonby's thoughts home to a sense of forgotten
+duty. The spot he had yesterday selected, whence to paint his projected
+picture, was a mile along the valley, and the day was passing; so far he
+had been conspicuously successful in his efforts to become a lounger.</p>
+
+<p>"I wonder if your mother would tie me up some dinner in a handkerchief?"
+said he. "I had none yesterday, because it was too far to come back."</p>
+
+<p>Then, as the girl disappeared, he rose, stretched, and told himself that
+he was a fool to have put off his tramp till the hottest hour of the
+day, when it would be quite impossible to get an inch of shade, either
+side of the way.</p>
+
+<p>However, he had come to Edge Combe brimful of good resolutions, and he
+meant at least to try to keep them, in spite of the strange fermentation
+which seemed to be taking place in his brain. As he shouldered his
+camp-stool and other paraphernalia, it occurred to him to bestow a
+smiling pity on a poor fool who could allow all his ideas of life to be
+revolutionized by a sudden plunge from London dirt and heat into the
+glamor of a Devonshire summer.</p>
+
+<p>"However," he reflected, "it won't last. I've been overturned in this
+way before. Look what an ass I made of myself in Maremma! It doesn't
+increase one's self-respect to recall these things. But after all,
+either I am a singularly unappreciative person, or my insular prejudices
+are very strong, or&mdash;I like best to imagine this third&mdash;there is a
+something in the fickle beauty of an English summer which surpasses even
+Italy. I don't think anything there ever moved me quite as the Valley of
+Avilion does. There is something so pure, so wholesome, in this
+sea-scented, warm air. There is no treachery, no malaria lurking under
+the loveliest bits of foliage&mdash;no mosquitoes either," he suddenly
+concluded, somewhat prosaically, as he lifted his soft cloth helmet, and
+wiped his big forehead. "Only one drawback to an English summer," he
+continued, as he started on his way, with his dinner tied up in a blue
+handkerchief and began to tramp, with long strides, along the curve
+road, with its low stone wall, which skirted the deep blue bay. "Only
+one drawback, and that one which enhances its beauty, and makes it all
+the more precious: one is never sure of keeping it for two days
+together. Its uncertainty is its charm."</p>
+
+<p>He paused and keenly surveyed the purple and hazy horizon. No signs, as
+yet, of the weather breaking; all was fair, and all was very, very hot.
+He rested his dinner on a stone, and again passed his handkerchief over
+his brow. The swish, swish of the scythes in the long grass made him
+glance up. The mowers were mowing the steep hill to his right, and the
+long sweep of their muscular arms was fine to see, as they advanced,
+step by step, in regular order, the fragrant crop falling prostrate in
+their path.</p>
+
+<p>"It's a grand day!" cried Allonby, in the joy of his heart.</p>
+
+<p>"Ay, sir, and it'll be a grand week. We'll d� all we've got to d� before
+the rain comes."</p>
+
+<p>This was said with a cheery authority which gladdened Allonby afresh,
+and seemed to put a final touch to his riotous delight. Scarcely a
+moment before he had affirmed that the uncertainty of the weather was
+what pleased him; but the dictum of this rural prophet was none the less
+encouraging and reassuring.</p>
+
+<p>Just beyond the mowers, under a clump of very fine ash-trees, stood the
+forge, and in its shadow the furnace roared, and the sparks leaped out.
+The young man must needs pause here again to enjoy the contrast of the
+fierce dark fire on the one side, and on the other the musical trickle
+of a limpid rill of water, which fell from a spout, and dropped into a
+roughly hewn stone basin, shooting and sparkling in the light.</p>
+
+<p>As he stood, absorbed in gazing, the shrill call of some bird came
+clearly to his ear, and made him glance up. He was standing at the foot
+of a very steep hill thickly grown with trees, and high up, between the
+leaves, he could descry peeps of a long white house, and a sunny
+terrace, blazing with geraniums. His keen eyes noticed at once a big
+brass cage wherein doubtless a cockatoo was enjoying the sunshine, and
+then he saw a little lady in white come slowly along, with a wide black
+straw hat to shield her from the sun. He was far-sighted enough to know
+that the little lady was middle-aged and wore spectacles, but she had a
+sweet and pleasant countenance, and at once Allonby longed to know what
+favored mortal this was who made her home in Avilion.</p>
+
+<p>How lovely was that sunny terrace! How soothing the cry of that unseen
+bird! What a lovely wicker-chair that was which stood so invitingly
+just in the shadow of the porch! A great longing to enter these
+precincts, to penetrate into the mysteries of that dusky, cool interior,
+took possession of him, and he had gazed for many minutes before it
+occurred to him that he must present something the appearance of a
+little street urchin, flattening his nose against a confectioner's
+window.</p>
+
+<p>Turning sharply, he saw that the grimy smith, with his blue eyes looking
+oddly from his blackened face, was standing at the door of the smithy,
+regarding him with much curiosity.</p>
+
+<p>"Good morning," said Allonby. "That's a pretty house up the hill there.
+Who lives in it?"</p>
+
+<p>"The Miss Willoughbys," was the answer. "It's the only big house in the
+village, sir."</p>
+
+<p>Allonby breathed freely. He had dreaded lest he should receive for
+answer that Mr. Stokes the tanner, or Noakes the varnish-maker, dwelt in
+that poetic house; but no! All was in keeping with the valley of
+Avilion. The Misses Willoughby! He said to himself that the name might
+have been made on purpose.</p>
+
+<p>With a strong effort he tore himself away, and continued his tramp in
+the broiling sun, and still, as he went up the valley, between the steep
+banks of harts-tongue, over the musical brooks, he could hear the hot
+and sleepy cries of the bird on the terrace growing ever fainter and
+fainter.</p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<h2>CHAPTER II.</h2>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i12">Let no maiden think, however fair,<br /></span>
+<span class="i12">She is not fairer in new clothes than old.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i24"><span class="smcap">Tennyson.</span><br /></span>
+</div></div>
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+
+<p>Miss Fanny Willoughby, when the unseen Allonby saw her pass on the
+terrace, had just come from feeding her fowls. The poultry-yard was
+quite a feature at Edge, as the house was always called for brevity's
+sake, though its full name was Edge Willoughby. This year had been a
+very fortunate one for Miss Fanny's pigeons, and her mind was full of
+happy and contented thoughts as she carried back her empty tin dishes
+and deposited them carefully, along with her gardening gloves, in the
+little room known as the gardening-room.</p>
+
+<p>Beside her walked the very bird whose call had attracted the artist's
+attention. Jacky was a Cornish chough, coal-black in plumage, with
+brilliant orange-tinted beak. He strutted along sideways and with great
+dignity, casting looks of exultant triumph at the imprisoned cockatoo,
+who was his sworn foe. Puck, the stout and overfed terrier, solemnly
+accompanied them, as was his invariable habit, walking very close to the
+neat box-border, and now and then sniffing at the glowing geraniums.</p>
+
+<p>"Dear me!" said Miss Fanny, "how warm it is&mdash;quite oppressive."</p>
+
+<p>She would not for worlds have said that it was hot, but her dear little
+face was pink with her exertions, and her small plump hands so moist
+that to pull off the gloves was quite a business.</p>
+
+<p>The sound of a piano was loudly audible&mdash;a jingly piano, very much out
+of tune, up and down which scales were being rattled lightly and evenly.</p>
+
+<p>"I really think I shall tell the child not to practise any more," said
+Miss Fanny. "Charlotte is certainly a trifle exacting this warm
+weather."</p>
+
+<p>So saying, she opened a door to her right, and entered a room which was
+evidently sacred to the purposes of education&mdash;the education of a former
+day. A reclining-board and two large globes were its principal features.
+The book-shelves were stocked with such works as "Mangnall's Questions,"
+"Child's Guide," "Mrs. Markham's England," and the like. On the square
+table in the window was a slate full of sums, and what used to be known
+as a "copy slip"&mdash;bearing a statement of doubtful veracity:</p>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">"Truth is better than flattery."<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+<p>This sentence comprised exactly the system on which Elaine Brabourne's
+aunts had brought her up.</p>
+
+<p>They loved her very dearly, but they would have thought it a criminal
+weakness to tell her so. They acted always on that strange system which
+was in vogue when they were young&mdash;namely, that you always would be
+naughty if you could, and that the only thing to keep you under was a
+constant atmosphere of repression. If you learned your lesson, you were
+given to understand that the fact was due to the excellence of the
+manner in which you were taught&mdash;not to any effort of your own. If you
+did not learn it, you were conscious that this deficiency on your part
+was only to be expected from one who habitually made so small a use of
+such exceptional advantages. You were never encouraged to form an
+opinion of your own. It was an understood thing that you accepted that
+of your elders. For example: "A plate basket," said Miss Charlotte,
+"should always be kept in the parlor closet;" and her niece Elaine would
+have regarded the woman who ventured to keep hers elsewhere as out of
+the pale of civilization.</p>
+
+<p>This plan of education had answered very well for the Misses Willoughby,
+whose lives had been peaceful and secluded as modern lives rarely are,
+and who passed their days always in the same place, and in nobody's
+society but their own. Their delightful unanimity of opinion was the
+great bond of peace between them; but they had never reflected that
+Elaine Brabourne could not pass her life in Avilion as they had done,
+nor paused to consider what would be the result when this girl, who had
+never been allowed to think for herself, even in such a matter as the
+color of her gowns, should be suddenly precipitated into London life as
+the eldest daughter of a rich man.</p>
+
+<p>Elaine did not cease her scales, nor look round as her aunt entered. The
+metronome's loud ticks were in her ear, and she dared not halt; but
+sweet-tempered little Miss Fanny crossed the room with light step, and
+stopped the instrument of torture with a smile.</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, Aunt Fanny! Aunt Char said I was to play scales for an hour!"</p>
+
+<p>"My dear, it is so excessively warm," said Miss Fanny, apologetically,
+"I feel sure you should lie down till the luncheon-bell rings. It is
+really quite exceptional weather; I am so glad for the hay-makers."</p>
+
+<p>Elaine, like a machine, had busied herself in closing the piano and
+putting away her music. Now she rose, and followed her aunt to the table
+by the window.</p>
+
+<p>She was such a very odd mixture of what was pleasing and what was not,
+that it was hard to say what was the impression she first conveyed.</p>
+
+<p>She was a head taller than her aunt, and looked like an overgrown child.
+She wore a hideous green and white cotton frock, and a black holland
+apron. The frock had shrunk above her ankles, and was an agonising
+misfit. Of the said ankles it was impossible to judge, for their
+proportions were shrouded in white cotton stockings and cashmere boots
+without heels.</p>
+
+<p>She was quite a blonde, and her hair was abundant. It was combed back
+very tightly from a rather high forehead, plaited and coiled in a lump
+behind, which lump, in profile, stuck straight out from the head.</p>
+
+<p>The eye seemed to take in and absorb these details before one realised
+the brilliancy of the complexion, the delicate outline of the short
+nose, the fine grey eyes, perhaps a shade too light in color, but
+relieved by heavy dark lashes, and the almost faultless curve of the
+upper lip.</p>
+
+<p>Such was Miss Brabourne at nineteen. A child, with a mind utterly
+unformed, and a person to match. The dull expression of the pretty face
+when at rest was quite noticeable. It looked as if the girl had no
+thoughts; and this was sometimes varied by a look of discontent, which
+was anything but an improvement. She felt, vaguely, that she was dull;
+and that her life bored her; but her mind had not been trained enough to
+enable her to realise anything.</p>
+
+<p>She had read astonishingly little. There was a deeply-rooted conviction
+in the minds of her aunts Fanny, Charlotte and Emily that reading was a
+waste of time,&mdash;except it were history, read aloud.</p>
+
+<p>It was hard to see wherein the great charm of this reading aloud lay; it
+had sometimes occurred to Elaine to wonder why she was made to read
+"Markham's France" aloud to her aunts by the hour together, yet, if
+found perusing the same book to herself in the corner, it was taken
+away, and she was told to "get her mending."</p>
+
+<p>She did not care conspicuously for reading. She did not care for
+anything much, so far as she knew. The only thing which evoked any warm
+interest was music, and the one piece of restraint which she deeply
+resented was the being forbidden to play on the beautiful grand piano in
+the drawing-room. It never occurred to her aunts for a moment that their
+pupil could play far better than her teachers; it never dawned upon them
+that she was fifty times more able to do justice to the grand piano than
+they were. Elaine was the child&mdash;under their authority. It stood to
+reason that she must not play on the best piano, any more than she might
+loll in arm-chairs, stand on the hearthrug, or go up and down the front
+staircase. And so, at an age when most girls are going out to balls,
+admiring and being admired, Elaine was playing her scales, getting up at
+half-past six, going to bed at half-past nine, not happy, but quite
+ignorant of what she needed to make her so.</p>
+
+<p>There was one aunt who did not quite agree with the plans adopted for
+their niece's education, but she was far too gentle to tell her sisters
+so. This was Aunt Ellen, the eldest, and Elaine's god-mother.</p>
+
+<p>She was far the most intellectual of the four sisters, but had resigned
+any active part in her god-daughter's education because of her
+ill-health. She reserved to herself the task of amusing the child, and
+this she wished to do by teaching her fancy-work, and occupations for
+the fingers. But if there was one thing Elaine disliked, it was
+fancy-work, or occupation of any sort for the fingers. In fact, it
+puzzled them to know what she did like, though it never occurred to them
+to think how narrow was their range of interests&mdash;so narrow as to make
+it quite likely that the girl might have a thousand, and they not
+discover them. Miss Ellen was a great reader, and would have dearly
+liked Elaine to read the books she read; but out of deference
+to her sisters' theories she lent her only such books as they
+approved&mdash;memoirs, essays and biographies; and Elaine hated memoirs,
+essays and biographies.</p>
+
+<p>She did not decline to read them, any more than she declined to do
+fancy-work&mdash;she was too well-trained for that. Her individuality was not
+powerful enough to resist that of her aunts, three of whom were women of
+strong character, accustomed to be obeyed. And so the days went on, and
+she passed from child to woman, no one but Aunt Ellen being aware of the
+fact; and Ellen Willoughby dreaded unspeakably the day, which she felt
+certain must come soon, when the girl would awake to all the
+possibilities of life, and find her present existence intolerable.</p>
+
+<p>It might have been a presentiment which made her mind so full of this
+thought on this hot, beautiful summer's day, when she lay on her low
+couch beside the great window, gazing out at the glowing valley, and
+watching the shadows change as the sun slowly advanced.</p>
+
+<p>Presently there was a tap at the door, and Elaine came in. She brought
+fresh roses for the invalid's glasses, and, as she crossed the room, her
+godmother watched her keenly. The girl shut the door quietly and crossed
+the carpet, neither stamping nor scuffling. Her manners had been well
+attended to, but as she advanced it struck Miss Willoughby that her step
+lacked the elasticity which one associates with youth; she thought at
+that moment she would have preferred to see Elaine hurl herself into the
+room, and skip and dance for joy of the beautiful weather.</p>
+
+<p>The niece kissed her aunt in her usual methodical fashion, and then,
+fetching the vases, began the duty of putting fresh flowers and water,
+much as she would have begun to fold a hem or stitch a seam. This done,
+she sat still for some few minutes, thinking apparently of nothing, and
+with her dull, handsome eyes fixed on the distance.</p>
+
+<p>At last she said:</p>
+
+<p>"Martha's field is being cut to-day, and they say, if we get some rain
+by-and-by, there ought to be a fine aftermath."</p>
+
+<p>"Dear me! Martha's field being cut already! How the years fly!" said
+Miss Ellen, with a sigh.</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, do you think so? I think they drag," said Elaine, rather suddenly;
+and then repeated, as if to herself, "They drag for me."</p>
+
+<p>Miss Willoughby felt for the girl, but her sense of what was fitting
+compelled her to utter a platitude.</p>
+
+<p>"Time always passes more slowly for the young," she said. "When you are
+my age&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>"That will be in twenty-two years," said Elaine.</p>
+
+<p>She said no more, but somehow her tone implied that she did not wish to
+live twenty-two years, and to the elder woman it sounded very sad.</p>
+
+<p>She looked wistfully at her niece, wondering if it would be possible to
+get her sisters to see that some amusement beyond the annual
+school-feast and tea at one or two farmhouses was necessary for the
+young.</p>
+
+<p>She longed to say that youth seemed so long because of the varied
+emotions and experiences crowded into it&mdash;emotions which were lifelong,
+minutes of revelation which seemed like years, hours in which one lived
+an age. But she knew Charlotte would feel it most unfitting to talk of
+emotions to a child, and dimly she began to feel sure that Charlotte
+must be wrong, or that somebody was wrong, that Elaine's was not a happy
+nor a normal state of girlhood.</p>
+
+<p>Just then Miss Emily Willoughby entered the room. She was the youngest
+of the four, and rather handsome, though her style of hair was
+unbecoming, and her dress an atrocity.</p>
+
+<p>"Is Elaine here? Oh, yes, I see she is. Elaine, Jane is ready for your
+walk, and I should like you to go along the valley to Poole, and tell
+Mrs. Battishill to send up twenty pounds of strawberries for preserving,
+as soon as they are ripe."</p>
+
+<p>Elaine rose, with a face expressing neither displeasure nor distaste.
+She merely said, "Yes, Aunt Emily;" and, taking up her tray of dead
+flowers, left the room and closed the door behind her.</p>
+
+<p>Miss Ellen's eyes followed her anxiously, and, as the footsteps died
+away along the passage, she lay back among her cushions and a slight
+flush rose in her white face.</p>
+
+<p>"Emily," she said, "I should like to have a little talk with you."</p>
+
+<p>"That is just what I have come up for," said her sister, seating herself
+in Elaine's vacated chair, and taking out her knitting. "About this work
+from Helbronner's, isn't it? Well, my dear, we have just been discussing
+it among ourselves, and have come to the conclusion to send back the
+design. It will not do, my dear Ellen, as I know you will agree. It
+would be considered quite Popish by the villagers, and, as Mr. Hill
+would not like to object to it if it were our work, it would be placing
+him in a <i>most</i> awkward position."</p>
+
+<p>Miss Ellen fixed her soft, questioning eyes on her sister's face, but
+soon removed them, with a sigh of resignation. Emily's mind was full of
+the design for the new altar-cloth, and it would be useless at such a
+moment to appeal to her on the subject of her niece's future. She could
+but lie still and hear the pros and cons respecting a design of cross
+intertwined with lilies, which design Miss Emily, for some inscrutable
+reason, seemed to consider appropriate only to the Church of Rome.
+Presently, through the open window could be heard Elaine and the maid
+setting out for their walk, and again Miss Willoughby caught herself
+wishing that the girl's footfall had had more of girlish buoyancy about
+it.</p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<h2>CHAPTER III.</h2>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i12">The champaign, with its endless fleece<br /></span>
+<span class="i12">Of feathery grasses everywhere!<br /></span>
+<span class="i12">Silence and passion, joy and peace,<br /></span>
+<span class="i12">An everlasting wash of air.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i24"><span class="smcap">Browning.</span><br /></span>
+</div></div>
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+
+<p>Elaine Brabourne's feelings, as she went up the Combe, along the path
+which Allonby had trod before her, were about as different from his as
+anything that could possibly be imagined. She was not thinking much of
+anything in particular, but her predominant sensation was annoyance and
+resentment that her aunt should send her all the way to Poole on such a
+hot afternoon.</p>
+
+<p>It was about a quarter-past four, and the sunbeams were beginning to
+take that rich golden tinge which tells that the middle day&mdash;the "white
+light" so worshipped by Constable&mdash;is past. Tea at six and light supper
+at nine was the rule at Edge Willoughby, and so Elaine always went for a
+walk at four o'clock in the summer-time&mdash;at which hour her aunts
+affirmed "the great heat of the day to be past."</p>
+
+<p>The girl had never in her life been for a walk by herself. Jane had been
+her companion for the last fifteen years, and Jane's legs preferred an
+equable and leisurely method of progression along a good road, with, if
+possible, some such goal as Mrs. Battishill's farm, and a prospect of
+new milk, or perhaps junket. Consequently, country-bred though she was,
+Elaine was almost a stranger to rambles and scrambles up the cliff, to
+running races, scaling precipices, bird's-nesting, or any of those
+pursuits which usually come as naturally to the girl as to the boy who
+is reared "far from the maddening crowd."</p>
+
+<p>Had she had a companion to suggest such sports, they would have been
+delightful to her; but hers was eminently an imitative and not an
+original mind, so she walked along passively at Jane's side, letting the
+parasol, which had been given her to protect her complexion, drag behind
+her, its point making a continuous trail in the white dust.</p>
+
+<p>She was walking through a scene of beauty such as might have moved a far
+less emotional temperament than Allonby's. Behind her back were the
+waters of the bay, one sheet of flame in the vivid light, while here and
+there gleamed the sails of some proud ship steaming slowly down the
+Channel. The road she was treading ran along the western side of the
+valley; to her right all was deep, mysterious shadow, and beyond it the
+lofty swell of the more easterly of the two hills which bounded Edge
+Combe. High on the side of the Copping, as this eastern hill was called,
+was the long white front of Edge Willoughby, and a full view of the
+terrace glowing with its crimson and scarlet glory of climbing
+geraniums.</p>
+
+<p>Every gateway that they passed disclosed a wealth of luxuriant grass,
+almost as tall as Elaine herself, ready and waiting for the mower's
+hand. The white butterflies flew here and there, dancing with glee. The
+sunshine, striking through the larch plantation on the left, flung bars
+of light and shadow across the road; and under the trees the fern-fronds
+were rearing their lovely heads, uncurling in crown-like grace and
+beauty.</p>
+
+<p>All so still; nothing but the sleepy, hushed murmur which comes from
+nowhere and yet fills the air of a summer's day. In the silence the call
+of the chough on the terrace could be distinctly heard right across the
+combe.</p>
+
+<p>"Hark at Jacky!" said Elaine, with a little laugh. She rested her arms
+on the stile, and gazed away over the laughing meadow at the terrace. "I
+can see Aunt Ellen's head at the window," said she, "and here comes Aunt
+Char with a watering-pot. I hope she won't forget to water my
+nasturtiums just around the corner. Do you know I've got one of those
+new coral-colored ones, Jane?"</p>
+
+<p>"If we don't push on, miss, we'll not get to Poole and back before tea,"
+was Jane's remark.</p>
+
+<p>"I do think it's a shame to send me all the way to Poole such a day as
+this," sighed the girl, as she reluctantly rose and continued her way.</p>
+
+<p>She did not care in the least for the beautiful landscape. Its monotony
+was thoroughly distasteful to her. What mattered it whether beautiful or
+not, so long as it never changed? Variety was the need of her young
+life: something fresh&mdash;something different. Had she come upon a cargo of
+bricks and mortar, and workmen hacking down the finest trees in order
+to erect a villa, the sight would have afforded her the liveliest
+relief.</p>
+
+<p>Presently they left the high-road, and crossed a bit of furzy
+common&mdash;just a small piece of waste ground, with the water lying in
+picturesque pools and clumps of starry yellow blossoms brightening the
+sandy soil.</p>
+
+<p>As they passed along this marshy tract, Elaine raised her eyes to the
+road they had just quitted, which now ran along to their left, rather
+above the level on which they were walking; and she saw something which
+made her stop stone still and gaze round-eyed up at the road in a
+fashion which Jane could not understand till her own eyes followed the
+direction of her young mistress'. Then she beheld what was sufficiently
+unusual amply to justify the girl's surprise.</p>
+
+<p>A broad back, covered with a light tweed coat, a soft, shapeless felt
+hat, two unmistakably masculine legs appearing on the further side of a
+camp stool:&mdash;a folding easel, bearing a canvas of fair dimensions, and a
+palette splotched thickly with color. The painter's back was towards
+them. His point of view lay inland, up the valley, and took in a corner
+of Poole farmhouse, and the grove of ash-trees behind it.</p>
+
+<p>It may at first sound somewhat contradictory that an artist should be
+such a <i>rara avis</i> in so beautiful a spot as Edge Combe. But it is,
+nevertheless, true, and this for two good reasons. Firstly, the place is
+quite out of the beat of the usual Devonshire tourist. It is nowhere
+near Lynton, nor Clovelly, nor the Dart, nor Kingsbridge. No railway
+comes within five miles of it, and very few people have ever heard its
+name. Secondly, many landscape artists are dispirited by the cruel
+difficulty of getting a foreground. It is embarrassing to paint with the
+ground descending sheer away from your very feet, so as merely to
+present to you the summits of several trees, and the tip of a church
+spire in violent perspective. Equally inconvenient is it to take your
+seat at the foot of a steep hill, with intention to paint the side
+thereof. And so, as level ground there is none, the artists at Edge
+Combe are limited to those who, like Allonby, fall so headlong in love
+with the place that they make up their minds to paint somewhere,
+regardless of difficulties. Again it may be added that there is no bold
+coast-line at Edge Combe, no precipitous granite rocks, with white
+breakers foaming at their base, no mysterious chasms or sea-caves,&mdash;all
+is gentle and smiling. The cliffs are white chalk, riddled with gulls'
+nests, or warm red-brown crumbling sand-stone. The blackberries ripen at
+their sunny summits, the park-like trees curve over almost to the
+water's brim; and the only danger attaching to these cliffs is their
+habit of now and again quietly subsiding, breaking away and falling into
+the sea without the slightest warning.</p>
+
+<p>Allonby had chosen his painting-ground with rare felicity, and had, as
+was his wont, gently congratulated himself on the pleasing fact. Elaine
+longed, with a longing which was quite a novel emotion, to be near
+enough to see what he was doing.</p>
+
+<p>He was not painting, at this moment, but sitting idly, leaning his head
+on his hand.</p>
+
+<p>Oh, if he would but turn round and look at her! The usually dull grey
+eyes gathered a strange intensity; even Jane, as she looked at the girl,
+noticed her odd expression, and was rendered vaguely uneasy by it.</p>
+
+<p>"Come on, miss," said she.</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, but, Jane&mdash;he is painting&mdash;see! He looks like a gentleman. I wonder
+who he is!"</p>
+
+<p>"I heard Hutchins say there was a gentleman staying at the Fountain
+Head. That might be him," said Jane.</p>
+
+<p>"I daresay. Most likely. I wonder what his name is?"</p>
+
+<p>"I don't see it matters to you, miss. You don't know him, nor your aunts
+don't know him, and if we loiter like this we'll not get home afore the
+dumpsie" (twilight).</p>
+
+<p>Elaine reluctantly tore away her feet, which seemed rooted to that
+charmed spot. Her thoughts were not coherent&mdash;they were hardly thoughts
+at all, but there was a sudden passionate wish that she were a man, and
+free. It was no good to grow up if you were only a girl. She was
+nineteen, and had no more liberty than when she was nine. Oh, to be able
+to travel about alone, to stay at an inn, to go from one part of England
+to another, with no one to ask the why and wherefore of your actions!
+She looked almost with hatred at Jane's homely, well-known features. Why
+must she always have a Jane at her elbow?</p>
+
+<p>The evil hour to which Miss Ellen looked forward with mournful prophecy
+was hard at hand.</p>
+
+<p>"Well, now, I d� say that it's nice to see you, Miss Ullin," said Mrs.
+Battishill, with delight. "And Jane t�! Come along in out of the
+heat&mdash;come into the rh�me. Is all the ladies well? How d� they like this
+weatherr, and how d� like it yourself, Miss Ullin, my dearr?"</p>
+
+<p>The Devonshire dialect was one of Allonby's keenest sources of delight,
+particularly the soft liquid French sound of the <i>u</i>, contrasting with
+the rough burr of the <i>r</i>. On Elaine it produced absolutely no effect
+whatever; she had heard it all her life. Her idea of bliss would be to
+hear something completely different. She went mechanically into Mrs.
+Battishill's best parlor, neat and clean as a new pin, but with the
+strange stuffiness which comes of never opening the windows.</p>
+
+<p>She ate the cakes provided, and drank the milk with healthy girlish
+appetite; but her thoughts were centred on the artist in the lane, and
+she did not hear a word that Jane and the farmer's wife were saying.</p>
+
+<p>Jane was admiring a large fine silver cup gained by Mr. Battishill at
+the last agricultural show for the best cultivated farm of more than a
+hundred acres. This prize was offered every year to his tenantry by Sir
+Matthew Scone, who owned nearly all the surrounding country.</p>
+
+<p>"Yes, it's a fine coop," said Mrs. Battishill, with pride. "I shown it
+yesterrday to a young fellow who's making a picturre out there in the
+lane, and coom oop to the farrm for a drink o' milk."</p>
+
+<p>These words suddenly fixed Elaine's attention.</p>
+
+<p>"He's painting out there now," said Jane, with interest; "we see him as
+we came threw the waste."</p>
+
+<p>"I dessay you will have," returned Mrs. Battishill, benevolently. "I
+showed him all over the hoose, and he was that taken oop with it. He
+said he never see such a queer place in his life. He didn't seem half a
+bad chap, to me," she was kind enough to add.</p>
+
+<p>Poole Farm had never before presented itself to Elaine in such a
+pleasant light. It was most certainly a very queer house, for it was
+built right against the side of a hill, so that you could walk in at the
+front door, ascend two or three flights of stairs, and then walk out of
+a door at the back, and find yourself unexpectedly on <i>terra firma</i>. It
+had never occurred, to the girl till to-day that this eccentricity was
+attractive; but now the house, the farmer's wife, the whole surrounding
+landscape seemed to borrow new dignity from the potent fact of this
+unknown artist having admired them.</p>
+
+<p>She did not join in the conversation, but listened with feverish
+interest as Jane asked if Mrs. Battishill knew his name.</p>
+
+<p>No, she had not asked it. He had said he was staying at the "Fountain
+Head," and, when she asked him how long he meant to stay in these parts,
+he laughed and answered "as long as the fine weather lasts."</p>
+
+<p>"Eh, well, we'll hope the rain'll hold off till he's done his picture,"
+said Jane, as she rose to take her leave.</p>
+
+<p>The farmer's wife protested against such a short visit, but Jane
+reminded her that tea at Edge was at six o'clock, and that they were
+bound to be home in good time; and so they started out again into the
+golden evening, where a circle of rose-color was just beginning to rim
+the intense blue of the pure sky.</p>
+
+<p>When they had shut the wicket-gate, and crossed the brook by the
+miniature bridge of three crazy planks, Elaine took her courage in both
+hands and ventured a petition.</p>
+
+<p>"Jane," said she, "don't go across the waste. Let us go home by the
+road; it will be&mdash;a change."</p>
+
+<p>As she spoke, she turned crimson, and almost despaired, for it was a
+longer way to go home by the road.</p>
+
+<p>Jane guessed with perfect accuracy the thoughts which were busy in her
+young mistress' mind; but she herself was a true daughter of Eve, and
+she wished to go home by the road as much as ever Elaine could do. She
+just sent one keen look at the girl's flushed face, and then said:</p>
+
+<p>"It was more than a bit boggy across the waste; you'll get home dry-shod
+if we go the other way."</p>
+
+<p>So these two dissemblers, neither of whom would own her secret motive,
+turned into the road, and walked along until a sudden bend in it brought
+them in sight of the artist's easel, and then Elaine's heart seemed to
+spring up to her throat and choke her, and she cried out, regardless of
+whom might hear,</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, Jane! He's gone!"</p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<h2>CHAPTER IV.</h2>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i12">Give her time&mdash;on grass and sky<br /></span>
+<span class="i12">Let her gaze, if she be fain:<br /></span>
+<span class="i12">As they looked, ere <i>he</i> drew nigh<br /></span>
+<span class="i12">They will never look again!<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i24"><span class="smcap">Jean Ingelow.</span><br /></span>
+</div></div>
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+
+<p>"Gone!" was Jane's quick response; "but he'd never go and leave his
+picture sticking out there by itself for the first shower to spoil&mdash;he
+can't be far off."</p>
+
+<p>For a moment Elaine recoiled, every nerve thrilled with the thought that
+the stranger, concealed in some bush in the immediate vicinity, had
+heard her reckless and incautious exclamation. There was no movement and
+no sound, and, after a pause fraught with more suspense than she could
+remember to have ever felt before, she stepped about two paces forward,
+and took another timid look. Something was lying on the ground near the
+easel&mdash;a confused heap of gray, which outlined itself clearly in the
+long rank wayside grass; and for a moment Elaine turned white and looked
+as if she were going to faint; then, no longer hesitating, but urged on
+by a wild impetuosity, she ran to the spot, and stood gazing down at
+Allonby's pallid and stiffened features.</p>
+
+<p>All her life long she would remember that moment&mdash;every detail, every
+sensation, stamped on her brain with indelible distinctness. The soft
+whisper of a newly-awakened diminutive breeze in the ash-trees, the
+grass all yellow as corn in the golden evening light, the hot sweet
+perfume that arose from the fragrant hedgerow, and the still hard face,
+bloodless under its newly-acquired bronze. It was death&mdash;she was certain
+of it. Death, that mystery in whose existence she had never really
+believed, though she knew, as matter of history, that both her parents
+were dead.</p>
+
+<p>Into the heart of this strange, awful secret she seemed suddenly hurled
+with a force which bewildered her. For a few moments she stood quite
+speechless, swaying to and fro, and seeing through a mist, while Jane,
+with her back towards her, was staring down the lane in hopes of seeing
+the artist reappear.</p>
+
+<p>Allonby had evidently come to the ground with force. His fall had
+crushed the camp stool under him. He had fallen forward, but slightly
+sideways; one arm was flung out under his head, and, owing to this, his
+face was turned upward, leaving clearly visible a livid purple mark on
+the left side of the forehead. The other hand was clenched, and the
+lower limbs slightly contracted, as if from a sudden shock; the eyes
+were closed and the brows drawn together with an expression of pain.</p>
+
+<p>To this girl, who had scarcely in her life come into contact with a
+young man socially her equal, this strange experience was overwhelming.
+A moment she remained, as has been said, trembling and erect; then she
+dropped on her knees in the long grass, and cried out, pierceingly,</p>
+
+<p>"Jane! Jane! come here! What are you doing? He is dead! He is dead!"</p>
+
+<p>Jane turned as if she had been shot.</p>
+
+<p>"Lawk-a-mercy, Miss Elaine," she cried, hurrying to the spot; and then,
+as is the manner of her class, she began to scream, and her shrill cries
+rent the air three or four times in rapid succession. "Oh, good Lord!
+Oh, mercy on me! What can have happened? He's been murdered, sure
+enough! Oh, Miss Elaine, come away! Come away from the corpse, my dear!
+You know your aunts would never hold with your touching a corpse. Oh,
+dearie, dearie, all the years I've lived I never come across such a
+thing! Never!"</p>
+
+<p>"<i>Murdered!</i>"</p>
+
+<p>The word dropped from Elaine's trembling lips with a wailing sound. Such
+a thing had never suggested itself to her mind. Probably had she had the
+usual training in the way of sensational novels, had she been accustomed
+to read of crimes and follow up the details of their detection with the
+zest of the true lover of late nineteenth-century romance, the idea of
+murder would have at once occurred to her, and she might have proceeded
+forthwith to search the long grass around for footprints, fragments of
+clothing, or a blood-spattered weapon. But she never once thought of the
+criminal, only of the victim. Neither did it dawn upon her that the
+mysterious danger which had lurked for the artist in that smiling
+landscape might lurk there also for her. She thought of nothing but him:
+that idea swallowed up and eclipsed all others.</p>
+
+<p>Poor Allonby! Barely four hours ago he had rejoiced over the
+straightforward sincerity of the English summer. He had quoted with
+smiling satisfaction the words in which a French writer describes the
+Maremma:</p>
+
+<p>"Cette Maremme fertile et meurtri�re qui en deux ann�es vous enrichit et
+vous tue."</p>
+
+<p>Nothing less murderous could well be imagined than this peaceful
+Devonshire lane. Here were no ghastly exhalations, no venomous reptiles
+to glide through the long flowery grass: an Eden without the snake it
+seemed at first gaze, and yet some unseen malign power had exerted
+itself, and felled the lusty manhood of this young Englishman with a
+blow.</p>
+
+<p>To Elaine, the sight was horror and agony untold; it acted physically on
+her nerves, and produced a dizzy faintness from which it took her
+several moments to recover. Feverishly she laid her hand on that of the
+young man, then on his brow, which was cold and rigid; she recoiled,
+filled with panic, from the touch, and leaped impulsively to her feet.</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, help! Help! Will nobody help? Will nobody hear us if we call?"</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, dear heart, he's bleeding under his coat here somewhere," cried
+Jane, holding out her hand, on which was something wet and glistening.</p>
+
+<p>This sight robbed the girl of whatever nerve she might have possessed,
+and she recoiled with a gasp of terror.</p>
+
+<p>"Stay with him," she cried, frantically, "I will run for help;" and,
+without waiting for reply, she started off to run at her topmost speed,
+feeling only that the one need of her soul at the moment was violent
+action, that something must be done at once.</p>
+
+<p>The emergency, the first emergency of her life, had utterly scared away
+her wits.</p>
+
+<p>She ran blindly, not in the least knowing where she was running&mdash;almost
+with an instinct of flight&mdash;escape from that terrible cold, still,
+bleeding form among the grass.</p>
+
+<p>She could see his face in fancy as she ran, could remember how a tall
+daisy bent over and touched his brown moustache, and a huge curled
+dock-leaf flung its shadow over his forehead. All so still, so
+stiff&mdash;ah! how dreadful it was, dreadful beyond the bounds of belief.</p>
+
+<p>In her dire perplexity, she never once thought of what was the only
+obvious thing to do,&mdash;namely, to run to Poole, and tell the Battishills
+to send down some men with a hurdle. She simply tore along the lane like
+a mad thing, never stopping to ask herself what she intended, uttering
+from time to time short sobs of terror and pity.</p>
+
+<p>A little way beyond Poole, the lane joined the high coach-road which
+runs from Stanton to Philmouth; into this road she dashed, and along it
+her flying feet bounded, whither she neither knew nor cared. For the
+first time in her life she was alone&mdash;alone and free. She was beyond
+reach of her aunts and Jane, out by herself, alone in the wide road; and
+without her being conscious of the fact, this unwonted loneliness added
+to the terribleness of the situation. She soon lost her ugly hat, with
+its prim bows of drab ribbon edged with black lace; but she never even
+noticed its loss. On, on she flew, till at last the sound of wheels met
+her ear, and her tearful eyes caught sight of a carriage approaching.</p>
+
+<p>It was an open carriage, just large enough for two, very compactly
+built. The man on the box looked like a private servant; within were a
+lady and a gentleman.</p>
+
+<p>It did not matter to Elaine who they were&mdash;they might have been the
+Queen and the Prince of Wales for all she cared. Her one idea was that
+she must stop them. She ran pantingly on till the carriage was within a
+few yards of her, and then flung up both her arms, crying,</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, stop, stop! I want to speak to you! Stop!"</p>
+
+<p>The sudden apparition in the lonely road of a tall girl without a hat,
+running as if hunted, was so astonishing, that the coachman reined in
+his horses before he was quite clear of what he was doing, and the lady
+in the carriage leaned forward with an eager expression, hearing the
+cry, but not having clearly descried the speaker.</p>
+
+<p>"What now, Goodman?" she said.</p>
+
+<p>"A young lady, my lady," said Goodman. "Wants to speak to you, my lady,
+I fancy."</p>
+
+<p>"Here, Claud," said the lady, with a laugh, "is your adventure at last!
+Make the most of it."</p>
+
+<p>"This is the third time you have promised me an adventure. If this
+proves to be as futile as the other two, I shall turn it up, and go
+home. I have had too many disappointments&mdash;they begin to tell on my
+nerves. Only a girl begging, is it?"</p>
+
+<p>"Hush!" cried Lady Mabel, laughingly holding up a finger to her brother;
+and by this time Elaine, crimson, trembling, on the verge of tears, was
+at the carriage door.</p>
+
+<p>The Honorable Claud Cranmer's eyes fell on the girlish figure, and took
+in everything in an instant. He thought her the most beautiful girl he
+had ever beheld; and beautiful she was in her passion and her
+excitement.</p>
+
+<p>Her hair-pins had all been scattered freely along the road as she
+ran&mdash;the huge plait of her deep gold hair hung down her back half
+uncoiled. It had been all loosened by her vehement motion, so that it
+framed her lovely face in picturesque disorder. The most exquisite
+carnation glowed in her transparent skin, crystal tears swam in her
+large eyes, her whole face was alight and quivering with feeling, her
+ivory throat heaved as if it would burst.</p>
+
+<p>Never in his life had he seen anything so totally unconventional, never
+heard anything to equal the music of the broken voice as she gasped out
+the only words that occurred to her&mdash;</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, I beg your pardon&mdash;do come&mdash;I must have help at once!"</p>
+
+<p>"What is it?&mdash;something wrong?&mdash;an accident?" said Lady Mabel, rapidly,
+in her deep, sympathetic, penetrating voice. In a flash she saw that the
+girl was a lady, and that her tribulation was no acting, but terribly
+sincere. "Try to tell me," she said, laying her hand over the trembling
+one with which Elaine grasped the edge of the carriage.</p>
+
+<p>"A gentleman has been murdered," cried the girl&mdash;"he has been murdered,
+there!" waving dramatically with one arm. "He is lying in the grass,
+dying, or dead. Perhaps it is only a faint&mdash;Jane is with him&mdash;won't you
+come?"</p>
+
+<p>Lady Mabel cast a sweeping glance at her travelling companion, as if to
+ask if here was not his adventure with a vengeance.</p>
+
+<p>"But oh, my dear child, I think and hope you are mistaken," said she.
+"People are not murdered out in the road in broad daylight here in
+England."</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, won't you come?&mdash;won't you come? I tell you he is bleeding&mdash;I saw
+the blood on Jane's hand!" cried Elaine, with a shudder of irrepressible
+repugnance.</p>
+
+<p>"Let us drive on at once and see to this," said Claud, with sudden
+energy, rising and letting himself out into the road. "I will go on the
+box with Goodman, if this young lady will take my seat&mdash;she looks
+fearfully exhausted."</p>
+
+<p>"I have run so fast," said Elaine, with a smile of apology, as, nothing
+loth, she sank into the vacant seat. "Tell him to drive quickly, won't
+you? He must take the first turning to the right."</p>
+
+<p>Mr. Cranmer mounted to the box, and the horses started briskly, Goodman
+being by no means less excited than his master and mistress at this
+novel experience.</p>
+
+<p>The girl leaned back in the carriage and hid her face. The whole of her
+frame was shaking with feeling she could not repress.</p>
+
+<p>Her companion looked at her with eager sympathy, and presently it seemed
+as if the magnetism of her wonderful eyes drew Elaine to look up at her,
+which she did in a timid, appealing way, as if imploring some solution
+of the mysteries of life which were bursting upon her so suddenly.</p>
+
+<p>It was a very remarkable face which bent down to hers&mdash;a face not so
+much beautiful as expressive. The features were so strong that they
+would have been masculine but for the eyes&mdash;such eyes! Of the darkest
+iron-grey, darkened still more by the blackness of brows and
+lashes&mdash;eyes which could flash, and melt, shine with laughter, brim with
+tears&mdash;eyes which were never the same two moments together. Their effect
+was heightened by the fact that, though Lady Mabel Wynch-Fr�re was
+certainly not yet forty, her hair was ashen grey, as could be seen under
+her travelling-hat.</p>
+
+<p>She was very small, slender, thin, and active&mdash;a person impossible to
+describe&mdash;genial, impetuous, yet one with whom no one dared take a
+liberty; a creature of moods and fancies, delighting in the unusual and
+the Quixotic.</p>
+
+<p>To-day's adventure suited her exactly; her eyes were full of such
+unutterable sympathy as she bent them on the frightened girl beside her,
+that whatever secret Elaine might have possessed must infallibly have
+been told to her; but Elaine's life, as we know, possessed no secrets.</p>
+
+<p>"Don't you trouble," said that wonderful vibrating voice, "we shall find
+it not so bad as you think. You have been sadly frightened, but it will
+all come right. Do you live near here?"</p>
+
+<p>"About three miles."</p>
+
+<p>"Will you tell me your name?"</p>
+
+<p>"Elaine Brabourne."</p>
+
+<p>"Mine is Mabel Wynch-Fr�re, and that is my brother, Claud Cranmer."</p>
+
+<p>"Taking my name in vain, Mab?" asked the Honorable Claud, half turning
+round.</p>
+
+<p>"Claud, this young lady's name is Brabourne," said Lady Mabel, in her
+gracious way.</p>
+
+<p>Claud lifted his hat and bowed, as if it were a formal introduction.</p>
+
+<p>"Any relation of poor Val's, I wonder?" he said.</p>
+
+<p>"Who was Val?"</p>
+
+<p>"Colonel of the 102nd before Edward got it."</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, I remember. Are you by chance related to the late Colonel
+Brabourne?"</p>
+
+<p>"He was my father," said Elaine, timidly.</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, ho!&mdash;then this is one of the wards in chancery," said Claud, with
+amusement in his eyes. "I beg your pardon, Miss Brabourne, but is it not
+your unenviable lot to be a ward in Chancery?"</p>
+
+<p>But Elaine heeded him not. The carriage had turned swiftly down the
+lane, and she had caught sight of Jane's sunbonnet crouching over that
+motionless figure in the grass. The sound of wheels made Jane look up;
+and it would be beyond the power of any pen to describe the dismay
+depicted in her countenance as the carriage stopped, and she caught
+sight of her young mistress&mdash;flushed, dishevelled, her hat gone, and the
+light of a tremendous excitement burning in her eyes.</p>
+
+<p>Mr. Cranmer had opened the door in a moment, and Lady Mabel, in her neat
+little travelling-dress, sprang to the ground as lightly as a girl of
+eighteen, Elaine scrambling awkwardly after her.</p>
+
+<p>"My word!" said Lady Mabel, impetuously, "what can be the meaning of
+this?"</p>
+
+<p>"I don't know who you are, mum," said Jane, bluntly, "but I can tell you
+I'm right glad to see a fellow-creature's face. It's give me such a turn
+as I never had in all my born days, sitting here alone, not knowing any
+minute whether the hand that struck this poor young man mightn't strike
+me next. There's been foul play here, sir, as sure as my name's Jane
+Gollop; and not an hour back he was sitting here a-painting quite quiet
+and happy, for Miss Elaine and me seen him as we went by to the farm."</p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<h2>CHAPTER V.</h2>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i12">The past was a sleep, and her life began.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i24"><span class="smcap">Browning.</span><br /></span>
+</div></div>
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+
+<p>"Oh, indeed I think you must be mistaken," said Mr. Cranmer. "It can't
+be murder&mdash;it must be a sunstroke, or a fit."</p>
+
+<p>"Queer sunstroke, to wait till five o'clock in the evening to strike,
+and queer fit to break a man's arm," said Jane, with some warmth. "I've
+seen apoplexy, sir, and I've seen epilepsy, and I've seen many and many
+a sunstroke; I know 'em when I see 'em. This here isn't nothing of that
+sort."</p>
+
+<p>Claud approached, hastily cramming an eyeglass in one eye, and, stooping
+over the wounded man, without further ado pulled open his flannel shirt
+and laid a hand over his heart. His face grew grave.</p>
+
+<p>"We must have help for him quickly," he said, in an alert, decided tone,
+which did not seem to match his dilletante exterior. "Where is the
+nearest place to run to?"</p>
+
+<p>"Poole is quite close&mdash;the farmhouse yonder&mdash;I thought Miss Elaine had
+gone there," said Jane.</p>
+
+<p>He just touched the arm which lay powerless, the coat-sleeve soaked in
+blood, and shook his head.</p>
+
+<p>"You're right enough&mdash;it's no fit; it's a brutal assault," he said. "A
+robbery, I suppose. I'll run to the farm&mdash;who'll show me the way?"</p>
+
+<p>"I&mdash;I can run fast!" cried Elaine, who seemed to have pinned her faith
+on Mr. Cranmer.</p>
+
+<p>They scrambled down through the gap in the hedge, and ran breathlessly
+across the Waste. It was hard to believe that the animated, emotional
+creature whose feet seemed to fly over the uneven ground was the same as
+the dull, spiritless girl who had trailed the tip of her parasol along
+unwillingly in the dust such a short time back.</p>
+
+<p>"Do you know the people&mdash;at&mdash;the&mdash;farm?" panted Claud, who was not in
+training.</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, yes. Mind the bog&mdash;don't get over the stile, it's broken&mdash;come
+through the gap. There's Clara come back from the milking. Clara! Clara!
+call your father, call the men, quick! Something most dreadful has
+happened!"</p>
+
+<p>These ominous words, pronounced at the top of the shrill young voice,
+filled the farmyard as if by magic. The men and girls, the boys, the
+farmer and his wife, all rushed out of doors, and great indeed was their
+astonishment to see Miss Brabourne arrive on the scene with a perfectly
+strange gentleman as her escort. It was well that some one was at hand
+who could tell the story more coherently than poor Elaine, who by this
+time was quite at the end of her powers.</p>
+
+<p>No sooner did Mr. Battishill comprehend what was wanted than his fastest
+horse was saddled and his son was galloping for a doctor, while the
+farm-laborers pulled down a hurdle, and, spreading a blanket over it,
+proceeded briskly to the scene of the disaster, accompanied by the
+farmer himself.</p>
+
+<p>Mrs. Battishill urged Elaine to stay with her, but, though white and
+almost speechless, the girl vehemently refused&mdash;she must go back and see
+what had happened.</p>
+
+<p>Claud Cranmer took her hand as if she had been a little girl, and she
+clasped his vehemently with both hers.</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, do you think he will die?" she whispered hoarsely.</p>
+
+<p>"I hope not; he looks a big strong fellow. It will depend, I should
+think, on whether or not his skull is broken. He is not a friend of
+yours, is he?"</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, no, I never saw him in my life before. They say he is staying in
+the village."</p>
+
+<p>"You will be dreadfully tired after this," he said, sympathetically.</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, it, does not matter in the least. I am never tired; I never have
+anything to tire me. You don't really think his skull is broken, do
+you?"</p>
+
+<p>"If the man that struck him could break the bone of his arm in two, I'm
+afraid it looks bad for the poor chap. It's a most ghastly thing, 'pon
+my word. I never heard of such an outrage! Broad daylight in a little
+country place like this! It's horrible to think of."</p>
+
+<p>But he was not thinking wholly of Allonby and his mysterious fate; he
+was marvelling at the utter unconsciousness of the girl who walked
+beside him, her hand confidingly clasped in his. He had never met a girl
+so vilely dressed&mdash;never seen even a housemaid who wore such astounding
+boots; but this Miss Brabourne was evidently not in the least aware of
+how far her toilette came short of the requirements of an exacting
+society. In spite of the urgency of the moment, by the time they arrived
+back at the scene of action, he was lost in a speculation as to how long
+it would take this anomaly in the way of girlhood, if suddenly
+transported into the midst of fashionable London, to discover her own
+latent capabilities.</p>
+
+<p>Lady Mabel had not been idle in their absence. She had slit Allonby's
+coat-sleeve, pulled his jointed mahl-stick to pieces, and contrived an
+impromptu splint for the broken arm therewith. She was supporting his
+head in her lap, and bathing it with the contents of her vinaigrette.</p>
+
+<p>The wounded man's eyes were open, and he was moving his head uneasily
+and slowly, groaning deeply every now and then. It was plain that he was
+quite unconscious of his surroundings, and that he suffered much.</p>
+
+<p>Elaine crept up with a fixed stare of wonder, and crouched down on the
+grass near. His eyes fell on her a moment,&mdash;they were big, honest, hazel
+eyes,&mdash;and the girl shivered and shrank, turning crimson as she met his
+gaze, though it was vacant and wild, and wandered off elsewhere in
+another second.</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, if he would not groan so! Oh, how he suffers; he is going to die,"
+she cried, mournfully.</p>
+
+<p>Jane came up and drew her away, as the men assembled round the prostrate
+figure, and lifted it on to the hurdle, Mr. Cranmer carefully supporting
+the head, which was laid on a soft shawl of Lady Mabel's.</p>
+
+<p>All the sky was scarlet and rose, and all the fields tinged with the
+same hue, as the small procession started to carry the sufferer with as
+little jolting as possible. The sun caught the windows of Poole and made
+them flare like torches.</p>
+
+<p>Among the crushed grass where Allonby had lain was a dark wet stain. How
+sad the easel looked, with its picture just begun! The palette had
+fallen face downwards, the brushes were scattered hither and thither.</p>
+
+<p>Lady Mabel began to collect them, and to pack them into the open
+color-box.</p>
+
+<p>"Come, Miss Elaine, dear, we must run home. Your aunts will be sending
+out to see after us," said Jane, nervously re-tying her bonnet strings.</p>
+
+<p>"I cannot walk a step," said the girl, who was seated on the grass, as
+white as marble. "You must go and tell them so&mdash;go and leave me."</p>
+
+<p>"Miss Elaine, my dear!" cried Jane, totally at a loss. Elaine was
+usually perfectly obedient.</p>
+
+<p>"I will drive Miss Brabourne home," said Lady Mabel, coming forward.
+"She is quite over-wrought. I should like to see her aunts, for I am
+nearly sure my husband knew Colonel Brabourne. Claud, what are you going
+to do?"</p>
+
+<p>Her brother jerked his glass suddenly out of his eye and turned towards
+them; he had been apparently contemplating the distance with an
+abstracted air.</p>
+
+<p>"Is there an inn in your village?" he asked of Jane.</p>
+
+<p>"Yes, sir."</p>
+
+<p>"Could we stay the night there?"</p>
+
+<p>"Dear heart, sir, no, this lady couldn't. It's very rough, clean, and
+they're decent folks, but just a village public, sir. This poor young
+man was staying there, they say. I make no doubt but Mrs. Clapp'll be
+wondering after him."</p>
+
+<p>"What do you want to do, Claud?" said his sister.</p>
+
+<p>"I want to investigate this highway robbery a little," he answered. "It
+is interesting to me&mdash;very. I should have liked to have Goodman with me;
+so I thought, if there was any accommodation at the village, you might
+drive on, put up, and send Goodman back to rejoin me here."</p>
+
+<p>"And let him find you also lying by the wayside with a broken head?"
+said Lady Mabel.</p>
+
+<p>He smiled.</p>
+
+<p>"Not likely to attempt two such outrages in the same spot, on the same
+evening," he said. "No. I'll tell you what I will do: I must go up to
+the farm and see to this poor fellow. He may have friends who should be
+telegraphed to. I'll get a bed here for the night, if you will give me
+my bag out of the carriage; you must drive through the village, stop at
+the inn to let the good folks know what has become of their lodger, and
+then on to the Stanton hotel as we planned. The farmer shall lend me a
+trap to-morrow, and I'll join you."</p>
+
+<p>"You think of everything," said his sister, admiringly, "but, Claud, I
+wonder if these people know anything of nursing&mdash;I am so uneasy till the
+doctor has delivered his verdict&mdash;is there a nurse in the village that I
+could send up, I wonder?"</p>
+
+<p>"There's a very good nurse in the village," said Jane Gollop, "the
+Misses Willoughby let her have a cottage rent free, and all her milk,
+and eggs, and butter from their own farm. We pass her cottage, if you
+please, 'm."</p>
+
+<p>"Very good. Tell Mrs. Battishill I shall send her up," said Lady Mabel,
+getting into the carriage. "It is so light now, we shall get to Stanton
+before dark, don't you think so, Goodman?"</p>
+
+<p>"Yes, my lady. It's not dark at nine o'clock now."</p>
+
+<p>"No, no. Take care of yourself, Claud."</p>
+
+<p>Her brother nodded, then turned to lift Elaine from the grass, where she
+sat motionless, staring at the road where the lifeless form of Allonby
+had been carried.</p>
+
+<p>"Come," said Mr. Cranmer, gently.</p>
+
+<p>"It's all over now," sighed Elaine.</p>
+
+<p>"What is over?" he asked.</p>
+
+<p>"What happened. Nothing ever happens in Edge Combe. This is the first
+thing that ever happened to me in my life, now it is over."</p>
+
+<p>"Miss Elaine, my dear, don't stay talking," cried Jane, in a fright. She
+thought her charge was light-headed with the excitement she had gone
+through. The girl said no more, but submitted to be put into the
+carriage with Lady Mabel, and sank down with a sigh into the corner,
+turning her face away from that fateful patch of roadside grass. Goodman
+helped Jane gallantly to a seat beside him. Claud lingered, with his
+hands resting on the top of the carriage door, his eyes on Elaine's
+face.</p>
+
+<p>"You do look pale," he said, "a lily maid indeed."</p>
+
+<p>The rich color flew to her face as he had hoped it would, but he could
+see by the look in her eyes that she had not understood his allusion in
+the least.</p>
+
+<p>"Breathes there a girl within the four seas who has not read the Idylls
+of the King?" he pondered, wondering. Then, just as the carriage was
+starting, he cried out,</p>
+
+<p>"Hi! Goodman! One thing more&mdash;as you go through the village, send me up
+the constable."</p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<h2>CHAPTER VI.</h2>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i12">Too often, clad in radiant vest,<br /></span>
+<span class="i12">Deceitfully goes forth the morn;<br /></span>
+<span class="i12">Too often evening in the west<br /></span>
+<span class="i12">Sinks, smilingly forsworn.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i24"><span class="smcap">Wordsworth.</span><br /></span>
+</div></div>
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+
+<p>Claud Cranmer stood still in the road, watching the carriage till it
+disappeared round a bend in the winding way.</p>
+
+<p>Then he turned, and gravely surveyed the scene of action. The hedge on
+one side of the lane&mdash;the side on which they had found Allonby&mdash;was
+broken and full of gaps. The lane on this side was skirted, first by a
+hay-field, and further on by the piece of ground known as the "Waste,"
+through which, as has been before stated, an oblique footpath led to the
+wicket-gate in Mrs. Battishill's flower-garden.</p>
+
+<p>Persons crossing this Waste were in full view of the windows of Poole.
+The field which adjoined the Waste was to be cut to-morrow. It was full
+of tall rich grass, through which no mortal could have passed without
+leaving most evident traces of his passage behind him.</p>
+
+<p>On the further side of the lane was a very tall, quick-set hedge, thick
+and compact, without a hole or a rent anywhere. Below it was a deep
+ditch, along the brink of which Mr. Cranmer walked, eyeing the long
+grasses and weeds keenly for the smallest trace of trampling or
+disorder.</p>
+
+<p>There was none.</p>
+
+<p>Crossing the road again, he sat down on the stile leading to the Waste,
+and reflected.</p>
+
+<p>Jane and Miss Brabourne had come up the lane from the direction of Edge
+Combe. They had crossed this piece of ground, noticed the artist at
+work, and proceeded to the farm beyond. In about half-an-hour they had
+returned by the road, to find the outrage committed and no traces of the
+robber to be seen.</p>
+
+<p>It appeared unlikely, then, to say the least of it, that this robber
+should have come from the direction of Poole Farm.</p>
+
+<p>Any loitering man would have been noticed by them as they passed; there
+was not a single clump of bush on the Waste large enough to conceal a
+man from the view of anyone crossing by the footpath. It seemed also to
+Mr. Cranmer to be exceedingly improbable that the villain should have
+approached along the road by which the carriage had come&mdash;that is to
+say, that he had been walking <i>towards</i> Edge Combe, because the artist
+had been sitting directly facing anyone who came from that direction,
+and must have seen and noticed a passer-by on that lonely road.</p>
+
+<p>Probability then suggested it as most likely that the tramp, or whoever
+it was, who had struck to such purpose, had approached his victim from
+the direction of the village of Edge Combe&mdash;had simply walked along the
+lane, come up behind the unsuspecting artist, and without warning
+administered the blow on the head, which was quite enough to leave the
+strongest man helpless in his hands. Of course, it was all mere
+speculation, still, it might afford a clue; for, if a stranger, a tramp,
+or a suspicious-looking person had passed through the village that
+afternoon, he was certain to have been noticed, and probably there were
+several who could identify such a one.</p>
+
+<p>Then, if he had approached along the lane, how had he escaped?</p>
+
+<p>Most probably by simply walking on along the solitary lane till he came
+to the high-road. Here was another negative piece of evidence. If this
+had been his course, he must, when he reached the high-road, have turned
+to the right, towards Stanton, because Lady Mabel and her brother,
+driving from Philmouth, must have met him if he had turned to the left;
+and Mr. Cranmer clearly recollected that they had met no such person.</p>
+
+<p>All this, of course, was very elementary reasoning; because there were a
+thousand places in which a tramp might have concealed himself, out of
+the main road. Yet it appeared to the young man likely that one who
+presumed sufficiently on the isolation of the neighborhood to commit
+such an assault in broad daylight, almost within view of the windows of
+a large farmhouse, would be hardy enough to adopt the course of simply
+walking off down the road after securing his booty,&mdash;a far safer plan
+and less likely to attract suspicion than skulking in fields or
+outhouses.</p>
+
+<p>But, altogether, the more he thought of it, the more incredible, the
+more outrageous the whole thing appeared to be.</p>
+
+<p>Surely the artist would not be likely to have enough of value on him
+during a sketching-tour, to make the robbing of him worth such an
+enormous hazard! His costume, as Claud remembered, had been simplicity
+itself&mdash;white flannel shirt and trousers, with rough, short grey coat
+and cloth helmet.</p>
+
+<p>He would carry a watch and chain&mdash;most likely; a signet ring&mdash;very
+probably. About a pound's worth of loose silver; aggregate value of
+entire spoils, perhaps ten pounds, for the watch would be very likely
+silver, or the chain worthless. Could there be more&mdash;far more in the
+affair than met the eye? Could this artist be a man who had enemies? Was
+there some wildly sensational tale of hatred and vengeance underlying
+the mysterious circumstances?</p>
+
+<p>Claud pondered, as he raised his neat brown felt hat and wiped his
+forehead. He was overcome with a desire to see and question the victim.
+From him something might be ascertained, at least, of the plan of
+attack.</p>
+
+<p>He set out to walk to Poole Farm, remarking casually to himself, in a
+depressed way, that nature never intended him for a detective.</p>
+
+<p>"But I wonder what a detective would have done under the circumstances?"
+he mused. "I could not observe mysterious footprints in the grass near,
+for Miss Brabourne's well-meaning but clumsy handmaiden had trodden it
+all flat by the time I arrived on the scene. I have examined the road
+and banks for shreds of evidence. I have picked up a hairpin, which I
+have reason to believe is Miss Brabourne's. Ought I to put it in my
+pocket-book to show to the real <i>bona-fide</i> detective when he arrives on
+the scene? It would hardly be of service, I suppose, to preserve any of
+the blood? Ought I to have left the paints and messes in the exact order
+in which they fell, I wonder? It's too late to reflect on that now,
+however," he added, with a glance at the paint-box, which he carried
+strapped up in one hand, the easel being over his shoulder. The
+beautiful calmness of the evening seemed to him horribly at variance
+with the tragedy just enacted. "It's like that funny hymn which little
+Peggy sings,</p>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">'Every prospect pleases, and only man is vile.'<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+<p>Certainly man in his worst aspect is a contemptible reptile," he sighed,
+as he walked up the little pebble walk, where the wall-flowers drowned
+the air with sweetness.</p>
+
+<p>Inside, in the kitchen, a lively scene presented itself. Mrs.
+Battishill, having deposited the sick man in bed, had just come down for
+towels and hot water, and was flying from linen-press to boiler-tap with
+a volley of words and some agitation. Her daughter Clara, a slight,
+delicate girl who would have been pretty had she not attempted to be
+fashionable, wearing steels in her dress, and a large imitation gold
+watch chain, was trying somewhat feebly to help her mother, and holding
+the kettle so unsteadily that the water splashed on the clean flags. A
+group of men and boys stood round awestruck, anxious to glean every bit
+of information that could be given.</p>
+
+<p>There was a murmur as Claud appeared, and everyone made room for him to
+enter.</p>
+
+<p>"Missis&mdash;here be the London gentleman," said a great benevolent-looking
+laborer who stood near the door.</p>
+
+<p>"Eh? Oh, come in, sir. Declare I near forgot you in the hurry of it.
+Saul, my boy, take the things from the gentleman, there's a dearr lamb."</p>
+
+<p>A tall boy about sixteen came forward, and held out his hands for the
+easel with a lovely smile.</p>
+
+<p>Mr. Cranmer resigned his burden with a momentary admiration of the
+beauty of the West of England peasantry, and came forward to where Mrs.
+Battishill was standing.</p>
+
+<p>"As I was saying, sir, I grudges nothing; the time, nor the food, nor
+the bed, nor anything; but if he could have managed to fall ill at any
+other time than right on top o' my hay harvest! Lord knows how I'm going
+to d�! There'll be thirty men to feed to-morrow, sir, count heads all
+round, and it's one woman's work to get ready the victuals, I can tell
+you, and Clara and the gal doing everything wrong if I so much as turns
+my head away! And if I'm to be up all night&mdash;&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>He was able to calm her considerably with the hope of the village
+nurse's speedy arrival, and was on the point of asking to go up and see
+the patient, when a clatter of hoofs was heard, and the doctor appeared
+on the scene.</p>
+
+<p>He was a rough, surly, middle-aged man, totally without any modern ideas
+of comfort or consideration, but with broken limbs and broken heads he
+was in his element, for he had a sharp practice amongst the quarrymen.</p>
+
+<p>Mrs. Battishill went upstairs with him, and Claud sat on the
+kitchen-table, swinging his legs.</p>
+
+<p>"Clara," said he, "I am most fearfully hungry."</p>
+
+<p>A giggle went round the assembly, as Clara, blushing rosy red, ran to
+get him some bread and cream, and a draught of cider.</p>
+
+<p>"This is food for the gods," said the hungry Claud, as he covered his
+bread thickly with scalded cream. "This is indeed a land flowing with
+milk and honey."</p>
+
+<p>"I can get yer some hooney t�, if yer wants it," murmured Clara, very
+low, with drooping eyes.</p>
+
+<p>"No, no, I was only speaking metaphorically," said he, laughing. "How
+old are you, Clara?"</p>
+
+<p>"A'm seventeen, sirr."</p>
+
+<p>"Ah! That's a fine age. And how old's your brother?"</p>
+
+<p>"A've t� broothers, sirr."</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, two&mdash;which be they?" said Claud, wiping his lips, and surveying his
+admiring audience.</p>
+
+<p>The two Battishills stepped forward, grinning.</p>
+
+<p>"Oh! isn't that tall fellow with the light hair your brother?" he said,
+indicating the boy whom Mrs. Battishill had called Saul.</p>
+
+<p>She shook her head, and there was a general titter, while the words
+"sorft," "innocent," could be heard, by which means he gradually
+gathered that Saul was the village idiot, at home everywhere and beloved
+everywhere. Finding himself the object of general attention, the boy
+crept behind Clara, who was a head shorter than he, and hid his face in
+her neck till only his beautiful golden curls were visible.</p>
+
+<p>She leaned back, her arms on his hips, blushing and laughing.</p>
+
+<p>"He's turrible shy with strangers," she said, "he can't bear 'em. Stan'
+up straight, thee girt fule, Saul!"</p>
+
+<p>Claud thought it as picturesque an interior as Teniers ever painted. The
+great hearth, with its seats each side of the chimney, the glowing
+fire, the white washed walls, the shining tins on the dresser, the
+amused, absorbed faces of the peasantry, and through the open door a
+waft of pure air with a glimpse of trees and evening sky.</p>
+
+<p>He turned next to Joe Battishill, a comely young man of one and twenty.</p>
+
+<p>"What do you think of this affair?" he asked. "You know these parts&mdash;I
+don't. Has such a thing ever happened before?"</p>
+
+<p>There was a chorus of "No!" and at least half a dozen started forward to
+vindicate their country side of such a charge. All were convinced that
+it was the work of some tramp, and then Claud proceeded to give them his
+ideas on the subject. It was agreed that the stranger spoke sound sense,
+and several volunteered to organize search parties. This was just what
+he wanted them to do, and he despatched some towards Edge Combe, some
+along the highroad to Stanton, and with these last he sent a scribbled
+note, enclosing his card, to the Stanton constabulary.</p>
+
+<p>He begged them to watch every tramp, every suspicious character that
+passed through the town. Just as he was in the act of writing, and
+waxing quite excited in his converse with the men, the doctor was heard
+lumbering downstairs.</p>
+
+<p>A dozen eager faces darted forward to hear the news, but the doctor
+marched in solemn silence through the group, and took up his position in
+front of the great fire, facing the assembly.</p>
+
+<p>"A won't speak a worrd till he's had his ciderr," whispered Mrs.
+Battishill to Claud, and Clara went flying past him into the cellar.</p>
+
+<p>Meanwhile Dr. Forbes' sharp eyes had travelled round the room till they
+rested on Claud, and the two stood staring at one another in a manner
+irresistibly comic to the latter.</p>
+
+<p>Certainly Mr. Cranmer introduced a foreign element into the society, an
+element the doctor would scarcely be prepared to find in Mrs.
+Battishill's kitchen. He was not above middle height, and slightly
+built. In complexion he was somewhat fair, with closely cropped, smooth
+dust-colored hair and moustache, and a pale face. His eyes were grey and
+usually half shut, and he might have been any age you please, from five
+and twenty to forty. He had no pretence to good looks of any kind, but
+he possessed an elegance not very easy to describe&mdash;a grace of bearing,
+a gentleness of manner, a readiness of speech, which no doubt he owed to
+his Irish origin. He was a conspicuously neat person, never rumpled,
+never disarrayed, and now, after his very unusual exertions, his collar
+and tie were in perfect order, his fresh, quiet, light suit was
+spotless, and his neat brown felt "bowler" lay on the table at his side
+without even a flack of dust.</p>
+
+<p>His glass was in his eye, and he held a piece of bread and cream in his
+hand. Feeling the doctor's eyes upon him, he deliberately ate a
+mouthful; then, rising his mug of cider:</p>
+
+<p>"I drink your good health, sir," he said. "How do you find your
+patient?"</p>
+
+<p>"My patient, sir," said Dr. Forbes, in a loud, resonant voice, "has had
+as foul usage as ever I saw in my life. He'll pull through, he has a
+splendid constitution. I never saw a finer physique; but he'll have a
+fight for it."</p>
+
+<p>At this point Clara brought up the cider, which the doctor drained at
+one long steady pull, after which he wiped his large expressive mouth.</p>
+
+<p>"If the blow on his head had been as hard as those that followed it,
+he'd have been a dead man by now," he said presently. "But luckily it
+was not. It was only strong enough to stun him. But there's a broken arm
+and a couple of broken ribs, and wounds and contusions all over him.
+Sir, if the weapon employed had equalled the goodwill of him who
+employed it, there would have been a fine funeral here at Edge Combe
+to-morrow."</p>
+
+<p>"Then," said Claud, eagerly, "what do you think the blows were inflicted
+with?"</p>
+
+<p>"A stick&mdash;a cudgel of some sort," said the doctor, "but I'll swear they
+were given by a novice&mdash;by a man that didn't know where to hit, but just
+slashed at the prostrate carcase promiscuously. Why, if that first blow
+on the head had been followed by another to match&mdash;there would have been
+the business done at once! But I can't conceive the motive&mdash;that's what
+baffles me, sir."</p>
+
+<p>"But&mdash;don't you think the motive was robbery?" cried Claud, excitedly.</p>
+
+<p>"What did he rob him of?" said the doctor; and opening his enormous
+hand, he showed a handsome gold watch and chain, a ring with a sunk
+diamond in it, a sovereign or two, and some loose silver.</p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<h2>CHAPTER VII.</h2>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i12">Where the quiet-colored end of evening smiles,<br /></span>
+<span class="i18">Miles on miles<br /></span>
+<span class="i12">On the solitary pastures, where our sheep,<br /></span>
+<span class="i18">Half asleep,<br /></span>
+<span class="i12">Tinkle homeward in the twilight&mdash;stay or stop<br /></span>
+<span class="i18">As they crop.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i24"><span class="smcap">Browning.</span><br /></span>
+</div></div>
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+
+<p>There was a general hush, during which the doctor surveyed Mr. Cranmer
+keenly.</p>
+
+<p>"What <i>can</i> be the meaning of it?" cried Claud, thoroughly disconcerted
+and at fault.</p>
+
+<p>"That's past my telling, or the telling of anybody else, I think," said
+Dr. Forbes, slowly. "It's the most mysterious thing in the whole course
+of my professional experience." He eyed Claud again. "Will you be a
+friend of his?" he asked.</p>
+
+<p>"No, no&mdash;I know nothing of him at all," said the young man, proceeding
+briefly to relate how strangely he had been summoned to the scene of the
+tragedy. The Scotchman listened attentively, and then asked abruptly:</p>
+
+<p>"Since ye take so kindly an interest in the poor lad, will ye come up
+and see him?"</p>
+
+<p>"I should like to," said Claud at once.</p>
+
+<p>"Should we go after all, sir?" asked Joe Battishill, diffidently.</p>
+
+<p>"What&mdash;on the search expeditions? Yes, it would be as well to rouse the
+neighborhood," said Cranmer, after a moment's consideration; "but tell
+the Stanton constables this extraordinary fact about the property not
+being taken. If only I could get a word with the poor fellow
+himself,&mdash;if only he were conscious!"</p>
+
+<p>"He'll not be conscious yet awhile," said the doctor.</p>
+
+<p>They ascended the old stairs with their weighty bannisters, the loud
+tread with which the doctor crossed the kitchen having vanished
+entirely. His step was noiseless as he opened the bed-room door. It was
+a big room, airy and clean, and the bed was a large and cumbersome
+four-poster, with pink hangings. Among a forest of pillows lay Allonby,
+his fine proportions shrouded in one of Farmer Battishill's
+night-shirts. His eyes were wide open, and with the arm which was not
+strapped up he was beating wearily on the counterpane.</p>
+
+<p>The farmer's wife, having no ice, was laying bandages of vinegar and
+water on his head to cool him. The doctor had set the casement window
+wide open, and the low clucking of the fowls in the farmyard was softly
+audible. Mr. Cranmer approached the bedside and looked down at the
+sufferer.</p>
+
+<p>Allonby was a fine-looking young man&mdash;perhaps thirty years old, with
+strongly defined features and a pale complexion. He had a rather long,
+hooked nose, his eyes were set in deep under hollow brows, and his chin
+was prominent, giving a marked individuality to the face, which was,
+however, too thin for beauty. It was the face of a man who was always
+rather anxious, to whom the realities of life were irksome, but who had
+nevertheless always to consider the question of � s. d.&mdash;a worn face,
+which just now, in its suffering and pallid aspect, looked very sad. The
+soft dark brown hair lay in a loose wave over a fine and thoughtful
+forehead. It was with an instinct of warm friendliness that the gazer
+turned from the bedside.</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, what a shame it is!" he said, indignantly. "I think I never heard
+of such a butchery. But now, the thing is to find his friends. Had he a
+pocket-book with him? If not, I must walk down to the inn and
+inquire&mdash;he must have left letters or papers somewhere."</p>
+
+<p>"Here's a pocket-book," said the doctor, holding out a leathern pouch of
+untidy and well-worn appearance.</p>
+
+<p>Claud carried it to the window, and opened it. It contained several
+receipted bills, six postage-stamps, two five-pound notes, a couple of
+photographs of a racing crew in striped jerseys, with the name "Byrne,
+Richmond," on the back of them, an exhibitor's admission to the Royal
+Academy exhibition, and several cards of invitation and private view
+tickets. These served to elucidate the fact that the artist's name was
+Osmond Allonby, but no more.</p>
+
+<p>He lifted the grey coat which hung over a chair, and felt in all its
+pockets. At last, from the outer one, he unearthed a pocket handkerchief
+and a letter addressed to</p>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0"><i>O. Allonby, Esq.,</i><br /></span>
+<span class="i2"><i>At "The Fountain Head,"</i><br /></span>
+<span class="i4"><i>Edge Combe,</i><br /></span>
+<span class="i6"><i>South Devon.</i><br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+<p>"I hope he'll forgive my opening it, poor chap," said Claud, and he
+pulled the paper from its envelope.</p>
+
+<p>The address, as is customary in letters between people who know each
+other intimately, was insufficient. It was merely "7, Mansfield Road."
+He glanced over the beginning&mdash;it was quaint enough.</p>
+
+<p>"How are you getting on, old man? We are being fried alive here, and the
+weather has put old C&mdash;&mdash; into such an unbearable rage that Jac says he
+has brought out the old threat once more, all the girls are to be turned
+out of the R. A. schools!"</p>
+
+<p>The reader was sorely tempted to continue this effusion, but nobly
+skipped all the rest of the closely-written sheet, and merely looked at
+the signature.</p>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i8">"Always your loving sister,<br /></span>
+<span class="i16">"<span class="smcap">Wyn</span>."<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+<p>"How much trouble young ladies would save, if only they would sign their
+names properly!" said Claud, somewhat exasperated. "However, if she is
+his sister I suppose it is fair to conclude her name to be Allonby. Wyn
+Allonby!"</p>
+
+<p>He turned to the envelope, and in a moment of inspiration bethought him
+of the postmark. It bore the legend, London, S. W.</p>
+
+<p>"That's enough!" he said, "now I can telegraph. That's all I wanted to
+know. Mrs. Battishill, will you kindly take all these things and lock
+them up in a drawer, please, for Mr. Allonby's people to have when they
+come."</p>
+
+<p>He proceeded to wrap the watch, chain, pocket-book, etc., all together
+in a paper, and deposited them in a drawer which Mrs. Battishill locked
+and took the key.</p>
+
+<p>Claud could hardly restrain a smile as he busied himself thus. The idea
+would occur to him of how ridiculous it was that he, Claud Cranmer,
+should be so occupied!&mdash;of what Mab would say if she could only see this
+preternatural, this business-like seriousness!&mdash;of what all the men at
+the "Eaton" would say!&mdash;of how they would shout with laughter at the
+idea of his posing as the hero of such a predicament!&mdash;of what a tale
+it would be for everyone down in the shires that autumn!</p>
+
+<p>A voice from Allonby suddenly recalled him to the present. He approached
+the bed-side full of pity, trying to catch the fragments of speech which
+the sick man uttered with difficulty from time to time.</p>
+
+<p>"And now farewell!&mdash;I am going a long way," said Allonby, and after a
+pause again repeated, "I am going a long way ... if indeed I go,&mdash;for
+all my mind is clouded with a doubt,&mdash;to the island valley of&mdash;&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>A pause, then again.</p>
+
+<p>"To the island valley of&mdash;what is it? where is it? I forget&mdash;I cannot
+say it,&mdash;to the island valley of&mdash;&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>"Avilion?" suggested Claud.</p>
+
+<p>There was a sigh of relief.</p>
+
+<p>"Yes&mdash;that's it! that's it! The Island Valley of Avilion, where I will
+heal me of my&mdash;grievous wound."</p>
+
+<p>"Now I wonder what has put that into his head?" said Claud.</p>
+
+<p>"Following up some previous train of thought most probably," said the
+doctor. "The subject for a picture I should say very likely. Let him be,
+poor lad."</p>
+
+<p>Clara here tapped softly at the door, to say that the nurse had arrived;
+and Claud was despatched downstairs to send her up, the doctor remaining
+to give her directions.</p>
+
+<p>Joe Battishill and another young laborer were waiting at the door for
+"the gentleman's orders," and when he had sent up the nurse&mdash;a nice
+motherly, clean-looking woman,&mdash;he sat down to write out his telegram.</p>
+
+<p>"Beg pardon, sir," said a big man, pushing past the others to the table,
+"but I should like half-a-dozen words wi' ye. I'm Willum Clapp as keeps
+the 'Fountain Head,' and my missus be in a fine takin' about this poor
+young chap, an' I wants to hear all that's took place."</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, you're the landlord of the 'Fountain Head,' are you?" said Claud,
+"you're just the man I wanted to see. Can you account in any way for
+this that has happened? What sort of man was your lodger,
+quiet?&mdash;peaceable?"</p>
+
+<p>William Clapp broke out into a warm eulogium on the virtues of "Muster
+Allonba!"</p>
+
+<p>He was quiet, gentle, good-humored, and had his word and his joke for
+everyone. He had only received two letters since he came to Edge, one of
+which he put in the fire after reading it. This Mr. Clapp specially
+remembered, because his lodger had to come into the kitchen to
+accomplish the said feat, there being, naturally, no fire in the
+sitting-room. He had started from the inn that morning a little before
+mid-day, with his dinner done up in a blue handkerchief&mdash;</p>
+
+<p>"And that minds me, sirr, to ask if Missus Battishill could let my
+missus have back the handkercher and the pudding-dish, as there'll be
+sooch a-many dinners to send out to the hayfields to-morrow."</p>
+
+<p>"Oh&mdash;certainly, I suppose Mrs. Clapp can have her things; just ask after
+them, some of you fellows. And now tell me," said Claud, "did Mr.
+Allonby know anybody down in these parts?"</p>
+
+<p>"No, sirr, I don't think he did."</p>
+
+<p>"Are you sure?"</p>
+
+<p>"Sure as can be, sirr. At least, if a did, a said nowt abaout it to me
+or the missus."</p>
+
+<p>"Nobody ever came to see him?"</p>
+
+<p>"No, sirr, that I'm certain on!"</p>
+
+<p>"Did he seem as if he had anything on his mind?"</p>
+
+<p>"No, that a didn't, for my missus said as haow she neverr see such a
+light-hearted chap in herr life!"</p>
+
+<p>Claud pondered deeply, nursing one knee and staring at the kitchen
+floor.</p>
+
+<p>"You see, this is what bothers me, Mr. Clapp," he said. "It was an
+assault apparently without any motive whatever, for Mr. Allonby was not
+robbed."</p>
+
+<p>"Eh, it's as queer a thing as ever I heard on, and as awful," said
+William Clapp. "In the meedst of life we are in death, as I've often
+heared in church, sirr! Why, the mowers in Miss Willoughby's grass, and
+Loud at the smithy, they see him go by a-laughing and a-giving everyone
+good-morning as perlite and well-mannered as could be; and the next one
+hears of him&mdash;&mdash;!"</p>
+
+<p>The farmer made an eloquent gesture with his hand.</p>
+
+<p>"Well, I'm just writing a message to his people, Mr. Clapp," said Claud.
+"I found a letter from his sister in London, and I thought the best
+thing to do was to telegraph for her to come straight."</p>
+
+<p>"If <i>you</i> please, sirr," said the landlord, "anything me or my missus
+can do&mdash;&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>"I am sure of it, and thank you kindly. I may want a bed at your house
+to-morrow night, but I'll let you know."</p>
+
+<p>He rapidly pencilled a message to&mdash;</p>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0"><i>Miss Wyn Allonby,</i><br /></span>
+<span class="i2"><i>7 Mansfield Road,</i><br /></span>
+<span class="i4"><i>London, S. W.</i><br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+<p>Then paused a minute.</p>
+
+<p>"I don't even know whether she's married or not," he reflected.
+"However, I should think this would find her any way; people usually
+open telegrams."</p>
+
+<p>He wrote:</p>
+
+<blockquote><p>"<i>Accident to Mr. Allonby. Serious. Has been taken to Poole Farm.
+11.30 train Waterloo to Stanton shall be met to-morrow.</i>"</p></blockquote>
+
+<p>He glanced up at the landlord.</p>
+
+<p>"I will add your name," he said, "and address,&mdash;it will be better."</p>
+
+<p>So he added, "Clapp, Fountain Head Inn," and passed the paper over to
+Joe Battishill, who gravely began to count the syllables.</p>
+
+<p>"One and twopence, please, sir," said Joe.</p>
+
+<p>Claud tossed him half-a-crown.</p>
+
+<p>"You'll want something when you get to Stanton," he said; "you can keep
+the change."</p>
+
+<p>Clara came creeping down the stair, looking white and nervous.</p>
+
+<p>"Please, sir, mother say she never saw no blue handkercher nor
+pudding-basin neither."</p>
+
+<p>"Eh?" said Claud. "Well, now I come to think of it, no more did I; I
+suppose it was left by the wayside."</p>
+
+<p>"I'll be bold to say it wasn't," said William Clapp, "for I walked oop
+right past the place, and I should a known my missus's dish-clout, bless
+yer."</p>
+
+<p>"I suppose it's hidden among the grass," said Mr. Cranmer, after a
+moment's thought. "Let us go and look. Is your mother sure it was not
+brought here, Clara?"</p>
+
+<p>"Certain sure, sir. Nobody carried away anything but mother, who took
+the peecture, an' you as carried the box and easel."</p>
+
+<p>"Could Miss Brabourne's servant have taken it?" suggested Claud.</p>
+
+<p>"Nay, sir, a think not," said Clapp, "for a stopped to speak to my
+missus, and she would ha' gi'en her the things if she had 'em."</p>
+
+<p>"Let's go and look!" cried Claud, seizing his hat again.</p>
+
+<p>The sun had set at last&mdash;what a long lime it seemed to have taken
+to-night! The rosy afterglow dyed all the heavens, and the trees were
+outlined black against it. As they hurried through the Waste, it seemed
+to the young man as if he had known the neighborhood for years; ages
+appeared to have elapsed since the afternoon, when he had been soberly
+driving with Mab along the coach-road, accomplishing the last stage in
+their pleasant, uneventful ten days' driving-tour. How little he had
+thought, when he planned that driving-tour for Mab, who had been
+thoroughly wearied out with an epidemic of whooping-cough in her
+nursery, that it would lead to consequences such as these. He was
+profoundly interested in the mysterious circumstances of this affair in
+which, somehow, he had been made to play such a prominent part. Come
+what might, he must stay and see it out. Mab might go home if she
+liked&mdash;in fact, he thought she had better telegraph to Edward to come
+and fetch her. The children were all at Eastbourne with the nurses, and
+she would have a chance of quiet if she went for a few days to the
+"mater's" inconvenient dark little house in Provost Street, Park Lane;
+and&mdash;&mdash;</p>
+
+<p>"Here you are, sirr," said William Clapp, in his broad Devon. "Where's
+the missus's dishclout?"</p>
+
+<p>In fact, it was not to be seen. They searched for it high and low, in
+vain. Mr. Cranmer felt as if he were in the toils of that mixture of the
+ghastly and the absurd which we call nightmare. This last detail was too
+ridiculous! That a gentleman should be waylaid and murdered on the
+king's highway, and all for the sake of a blue handkerchief and a
+pudding-basin! In his mingled feelings of amusement and annoyance, he
+did not know whether to laugh or be angry&mdash;the whole thing was too
+incredible, too monstrous.</p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<h2>CHAPTER VIII.</h2>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i12">"Thy steps are dancing towards the bound<br /></span>
+<span class="i14">Between the child and woman,<br /></span>
+<span class="i12">And thoughts and feelings more profound<br /></span>
+<span class="i14">And other years are coming;<br /></span>
+<span class="i12">And thou shalt be more deeply fair,<br /></span>
+<span class="i14">More precious to the heart,<br /></span>
+<span class="i12">But never canst thou be again<br /></span>
+<span class="i14">The lovely thing thou art."<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i24"><span class="smcap">Sidney Walker.</span><br /></span>
+</div></div>
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+
+<p>"My dear, I cannot understand it!" said Miss Charlotte Willoughby.</p>
+
+<p>"It is most strange&mdash;you don't think Mrs. Battishill can have kept them
+to tea?" hazarded Miss Fanny, in her gentle way.</p>
+
+<p>Miss Charlotte crushed her, as usual.</p>
+
+<p>"Jane stay out to tea without leave? She has never done such thing a
+before."</p>
+
+<p>"It's very warm. They may be lingering on account of the heat," put in
+Miss Ellen's quiet voice.</p>
+
+<p>"The heat is not too great for any healthy girl," said Miss Emily, with
+decision. "I have noticed lately in Elaine a very languid and dawdling
+way of doing things. I shall speak to her on the subject. I don't know
+what she has to occupy her thoughts, but she evidently is never thinking
+of what she is doing."</p>
+
+<p>"She is a dear good child, on the whole," said Miss Fanny, comfortably.</p>
+
+<p>"I cannot help thinking that she sometimes finds her life dull," said
+Ellen.</p>
+
+<p>"Dull!" cried the three ladies in chorus; and Charlotte added, in high
+and amazed tones:</p>
+
+<p>"Why, she is occupied from morning till night!"</p>
+
+<p>"It was only to-day I let her off a quarter-of-an-hour practising on
+account of the heat," continued Fanny.</p>
+
+<p>"If you think she might devote more time to her calisthenics&mdash;&mdash;" began
+Emily.</p>
+
+<p>"It was not that I meant at all," said Ellen, when she could get a
+hearing. "I do not complain of want of occupation for hers, but want of
+amusement."</p>
+
+<p>"I was always taught to consider," said Charlotte, in a tone of some
+displeasure, "that those who were fully employed need never complain of
+<i>ennui</i>. Occupation is amusement."</p>
+
+<p>"Then, to follow on your argument," said Ellen, half playfully, "the
+convicts who are sentenced to hard labor must have a most amusing time
+of it."</p>
+
+<p>This remark, savoring dangerously of irony, was received by the three
+sisters with utter silence, and Charlotte thought, as she often did,
+what a pity it was that Ellen read so many books; really it quite warped
+her judgment.</p>
+
+<p>"Of course everything should be in moderation," she said frigidly, after
+a pause; "too severe labor would be as bad for the body as too little is
+for the mind."</p>
+
+<p>This speech sounded rather well, and Charlotte's temper was somewhat
+soothed by the feeling that she had made a hit.</p>
+
+<p>Miss Ellen sighed. She felt that nothing could be done on Elaine's
+behalf, if she began by setting up the backs of the entire council of
+education. Yet so narrow had the minds of these excellent women grown,
+by living so perpetually in one groove, that it seemed impossible even
+to hint that they were mistaken without putting them out of temper.</p>
+
+<p>"Of course I know that occupation is most necessary," said she, "and I
+agree with you that every woman should be well employed; but I only
+wanted to suggest that perhaps a little more variety than we find
+necessary might be good for the young. We are glad to live our quiet,
+untroubled days through; but for Elaine,&mdash;don't you think that some
+diversion now and then would be beneficial? Remember, as girls, we went
+to London for a month each spring, our dear father always gave us that
+treat; and I know that I, at least, used to get through my work here
+with all the greater zest because of looking forward to that month's
+enjoyment."</p>
+
+<p>"And what is the result?" burst out Miss Charlotte, with quite unusual
+energy. "What is the result of all this going to London, pray? I am sure
+I heartily wish, and Fanny for one agrees with me, that we had never
+gone near the place! If we had not gadded about to London our poor
+pretty Alice would never have met that vile Valentine Brabourne with his
+deceitful face, and the family tragedy would never have taken place&mdash;&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>"And we should never have had Elaine to brighten our home and give us
+something to care for," said Ellen, speaking bravely, though the
+remembrance of her favorite sister brought the color to her wan face,
+and dimmed her eyes.</p>
+
+<p>"You know the reason we never took Elaine to London was to keep her as
+much as possible dissociated from her step-mother and step-brother,"
+went on Miss Charlotte, combatively.</p>
+
+<p>"Yes, I know," answered her sister, quietly, "and that is where I think
+we have been so wrong. Because, much as we may have disliked Mrs.
+Brabourne, she was Valentine Brabourne's wife, and we had no right to
+allow Elaine to grow up quite estranged from her brother."</p>
+
+<p>This took Charlotte's breath quite away. It was rare to hear Ellen
+assert herself at all, but to hear her deliberately say that Charlotte
+was wrong&mdash;&mdash;!</p>
+
+<p>"I am much more to blame than any of you," went on Ellen, "because I
+will admit that, at the time Elaine came to us, I was very, very sore at
+the conduct of Mrs. Brabourne and her relations, and I was only eager to
+get possession of the child and keep her from them all; but I was quite
+wrong, Charlotte. Think what an interest her little brother would have
+been to her."</p>
+
+<p>"Well, I do think, Ellen, you cannot quite reflect on what you are
+saying," said Charlotte, her tongue loosed at last in a perfect torrent
+of words. "I have always said you read too many books, and I suppose you
+have some romantic notion of reconciliation in your head now. I have
+every respect for you, Ellen, as the head of this family, but you must
+allow me to say that, invalid as you are, and always confined to the
+house, you are apt to be taken hold of by crotchets and fancies. Let us
+look for a moment at the facts of the case: do you consider that Mrs.
+Brabourne was a fit person to have the bringing-up of Elaine?"</p>
+
+<p>"No, I frankly say I do not. I am not suggesting that Mrs. Brabourne
+should have brought her up."</p>
+
+<p>"Do you consider that the Ortons would be a nice house for Elaine to be
+constantly visiting at?"</p>
+
+<p>"No, Charlotte, I cannot say I do."</p>
+
+<p>"Do you imagine it at all likely that we could have been on terms of any
+intimacy with Mrs. Brabourne and her brother <i>without</i> allowing Elaine
+to visit there?"</p>
+
+<p>"It might have been difficult," Miss Ellen, with rising color was
+constrained to admit; "but I was not advocating intimacy exactly; only
+that Elaine should be on friendly terms with little Godfrey."</p>
+
+<p>"Is she <i>not</i> on friendly terms? I am sure then it is not my fault. She
+sends him a card every Christmas and a present every birthday, and
+always writes to her step-mother once a year. I really do not see how
+one could go much further without the intimacy which you admit is
+undesirable," cried Charlotte, in triumph.</p>
+
+<p>"I do not admit that it is undesirable for Elaine to be intimate with
+her brother," said Ellen, with firmness.</p>
+
+<p>"And pray how is the brother to be separated from the Orton crew, with
+their Sunday tennis-parties, their actors and actresses, their racing
+and their betting?"</p>
+
+<p>"By asking him down here to stay with his sister," said Ellen, quietly.</p>
+
+<p>A pause followed, an awful pause, which to good little Miss Fanny boded
+so darkly, that she hurled herself into the breach with energetic
+good-will.</p>
+
+<p>"Dear me!" she cried, "what a good idea! What a treat for dear Elaine! I
+wonder nobody ever thought of it before!"</p>
+
+<p>"Do you? <i>I</i> do not," said Charlotte, with withering contempt. "I wish,
+Fanny, I really wish you would reflect a little before you speak&mdash;you
+are as unpractical as Ellen is!"</p>
+
+<p>Miss Fanny rejoiced in having at least partially diverted the storm to
+her own head&mdash;she was well used to it, and would emerge from Charlotte's
+ponderous admonitions as fresh and smiling as a daisy from under a
+roller.</p>
+
+<p>"Do you know the atmosphere in which that boy has been brought up?" went
+on the irate speaker. "Do you know the society to which he is
+accustomed&mdash;the language he usually hears&mdash;and, very probably, speaks?
+He smokes and drinks, I should say&mdash;plays billiards and bets, very
+probably&mdash;a charming companion for our Elaine."</p>
+
+<p>"My dear Charlotte, he is not fourteen yet, and he is being educated at
+the most costly private school&mdash;he can scarcely drink and gamble yet, I
+really think," remonstrated Ellen.</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, of course, if you choose to invite him, there is no need to say
+more&mdash;no need to consult me&mdash;the house is not mine, as no doubt you wish
+to remind me," said Charlotte, with virulent injustice.</p>
+
+<p>"Char!" cried Ellen, in much tribulation, "you know, my dear, so well
+that I would not for worlds annoy you&mdash;I would do nothing contrary to
+your judgment. You know how I lean upon you in everything. But think,
+dear, if this poor little boy is brought up, as you say, in a house-hold
+of Sabbath breaking, careless people, is it not only right, only
+charitable on our part to ask him here and see if we cannot show him the
+force of a good example? Are we so uncertain of the results of our
+teaching on Elaine that we feel sure he will corrupt her? May we not
+hope that the contrary will be the case&mdash;that the care we have lavished
+on our girl may help her to serve her brother?"</p>
+
+<p>"My dear Ellen, I never yet put a rotten apple into a basket of good
+ones with the idea that the sound apples would cure the rotten one,"
+said Miss Charlotte, grimly.</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, surely the case is not the same," cried Miss Ellen, too flurried to
+search for the fallacy in her sister's analogy.</p>
+
+<p>"Put it in this way: In two years&mdash;only two years, mind&mdash;Elaine will be
+her own mistress, whether or not she inherits the fortune which we think
+is hers by right, she will at least have a handsome allowance. With what
+confidence will you be able to launch her out into the world if you fear
+now that, in her own home, and surrounded by her home influences, she
+will not be able to withstand the corrupting power of a little boy of
+fourteen?"</p>
+
+<p>"There again, that is all rhodomontade," cried Charlotte, "talking on,
+without reflection, which is very surprising in a woman of your sound
+sense. 'Launch her out into the world,' indeed! As if we were going to
+turn Elaine out of the house on her twenty first birthday, and wash our
+hands of her. What is to prevent her staying here always, if she
+pleases?"</p>
+
+<p>"What is to keep her here a moment, if she chooses to go?" asked Ellen.</p>
+
+<p>Charlotte hesitated a little.</p>
+
+<p>"She is not likely to choose to go," she said.</p>
+
+<p>"I am not so sure. There is a great deal&mdash;oh, a great deal in Elaine
+which none of us have ever seen," replied her sister. "It sometimes
+frightens me to think how little I know about her."</p>
+
+<p>"I cannot imagine what you mean," said Charlotte, in the blank, dry tone
+she always used when she could not understand what was said.</p>
+
+<p>"You will see some day," said Ellen, which Micaiah-like prophecy
+exasperated her sister the more.</p>
+
+<p>"I think Ellen is right," said Emily, suddenly.</p>
+
+<p>She had taken very little part in the discussion, but it was always
+assumed in the family that Emily would agree with Charlotte. The open
+desertion of this unfailing ally bereft the already much irritated lady
+of the power of speech.</p>
+
+<p>"I mean about having the boy Brabourne to stay here," said Emily, "I
+have thought of the same thing myself more than once&mdash;that Elaine ought
+to get acquainted with him, and that the only way to do it would be to
+have him here, as we dislike the Ortons so much. I don't want people to
+think that we grudge him his share of the inheritance, and I think it
+looks like that, if we ignore him so persistently."</p>
+
+<p>This was putting the matter on a ground less high than Ellen's, and one,
+therefore, more easily grasped by the others.</p>
+
+<p>"I quite agree with you," murmured Fanny, and Charlotte raised an
+aroused face from her work.</p>
+
+<p>"I daresay," said Emily, "that the Ortons all laugh at us for nasty
+covetous old maids, and that they think we dislike the boy simply
+because we are jealous, I don't exactly like to have people imagine
+that."</p>
+
+<p>"Naturally not," Charlotte was beginning, in muffled tones, when Fanny
+exclaimed, in consternation,</p>
+
+<p>"Bless us all! Look at the clock! Where can that child be?"</p>
+
+<p>All looked up. The urn had long ceased to sing, the hot cake was cold,
+the fried ham had turned to white lumps of fat, and the finger of the
+clock pointed to seven.</p>
+
+<p>They had been so absorbed in discussing Elaine's future that her present
+whereabouts had entirely been forgotten. Now at last they were
+thoroughly anxious.</p>
+
+<p>Fanny rang the bell to have the tea re-made and the food heated, Emily
+hurried out to see if there were any signs of the wanderers on the road
+across the valley. Charlotte went to Acland, the coachman, to tell him
+to go and look for them.</p>
+
+<p>"You had better harness Charlie, and take the carriage," she said, "I am
+afraid something is wrong&mdash;Miss Elaine has sprained her ankle, or
+something; anyway, it is getting so late, they had better drive home. It
+is very strange; I can't understand it at all."</p>
+
+<p>"No, miss, not more can't I, for Jane's mostly a woonderful poonctual
+body for her tea," said Acland, chuckling.</p>
+
+<p>"Never known her late before; something <i>must</i> have happened."</p>
+
+<p>She walked nervously across the stable-yard, and looked down the drive.</p>
+
+<p>Lo! and behold a trim little carriage was just entering, and perched on
+the box beside a strange coachman was Jane herself.</p>
+
+<p>"Jane!" screamed Charlotte, "where's Miss Elaine?"</p>
+
+<p>The carriage came to a standstill, and Elaine, white, and, somehow,
+altered-looking, stood up in it.</p>
+
+<p>"Here I am, Aunt Char," she said; "I am quite safe."</p>
+
+<p>"But what&mdash;what&mdash;what has happened?" gasped Miss Charlotte, staring at
+Elaine's travelling-companion. "Jane, what has happened?"</p>
+
+<p>For all answer, Jane went off into a perfect volley of hysterics. It was
+scarcely to be wondered at, for her day's experience had far exceeded
+anything which had previously happened to her in all her fifty years of
+life.</p>
+
+<p>Miss Charlotte was greatly alarmed, however, as Jane's usual demeanor
+was staid and unemotional to a degree. She ran for sal volatile, salts,
+for she hardly knew what, and soon her agitated and broken utterances
+drew Fanny and Emily out into the stable-yard.</p>
+
+<p>Elaine did not go into hysterics. She stood up, very white, with shining
+eyes, which seemed bluer and larger than usual, as Lady Mabel introduced
+herself to the ladies, and began a clear and graphic description of what
+had taken place. It seemed too incredible, too horrifying to be true,
+that their little Edge Combe had been the scene of such violence and
+bloodshed.</p>
+
+<p>So overcome were they that they quite forgot even to thank Lady Mabel
+for her kindness in bringing Elaine home, until she said, with a
+charmingly graceful bow, "And now I will not keep you, as I know you
+are longing to be rid of me;" and extended a hand in leave taking.</p>
+
+<p>Then Miss Charlotte suddenly rallied, and said,</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, but we could not on any account allow you to go on without taking
+some refreshment."</p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<h2>CHAPTER IX.</h2>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i12">So it would once have been&mdash;'tis so no more,<br /></span>
+<span class="i14">I have submitted to a new control;<br /></span>
+<span class="i12">A power is gone which nothing can restore,<br /></span>
+<span class="i14">A deep distress hath humanized my soul.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i24"><span class="smcap">Wordsworth.</span><br /></span>
+</div></div>
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+
+<p>Lady Mabel did not require much pressing to induce her to accept the
+eagerly-offered tea and rest. She was tired and wet, hungry and thirsty,
+and in her graceful, Irish way, she made her acceptance seem like the
+conferring of a favor.</p>
+
+<p>It was with some amused and speculative interest that she entered the
+house which had produced such an anachronism of Miss Elaine Brabourne.</p>
+
+<p>The sisters greeted her with some nervousness, but as much cordiality as
+they knew how to show. Hospitality was a virtue they all possessed,
+though their opportunities of displaying it were few and far between. A
+grateful coolness was the first sensation which her ladyship experienced
+on entering the low-ceiled dining-room. A real Devonshire "high tea" was
+spread on the table in tempting profusion. There were chudleighs and
+cream, cakes and honey, eggs from the poultry-yard, and such ham as
+could only be cured in perfection at Edge Willoughby.</p>
+
+<p>Miss Ellen lay on her couch near the window, and, as she stretched her
+thin hand in kindly greeting, her guest was much impressed by the
+refined and intellectual type of her features, and their lovable
+expression. In the blue, shadowy eyes, with their long lashes,
+underlined as they were with the purple marks of suffering, and
+wrinkling in the corners with advancing years, could be clearly traced
+the wreck of the same beauty which was budding in Elaine. Miss Emily too
+was handsome, though a hard expression robbed her face of the charm of
+her sister's. Little Miss Fanny, in her plump and plaintive amiability,
+was also prepossessing in her way, Charlotte only, with massive jaw,
+large features, high forehead, and stony gaze, conveyed a feeling of
+awe.</p>
+
+<p>This forehead was not only high but <i>polished</i>. It shone and twinkled in
+the light, as though the skin were too tightly stretched on the bony
+knobs of the skull beneath. The sparse hair was tightly strained away
+from it above&mdash;the frowning sandy eyebrows failed to soften it below.
+Lady Mabel guessed at once who was the ruling spirit of this
+unconventual sisterhood.</p>
+
+<p>The furniture of the room was the furniture of a by-gone day, when art
+had not been promulgated, and nobody thought of considering beauty as in
+any sense an important factor of one's happiness. In that sad period the
+fated Misses Willoughbys' youth had been cast. Alas! for the waste of
+good material which must then have been the rule! Girls intended by
+nature to be beautiful and charming, yet who, by dint of never
+comprehending their mission, managed only to be ugly and clumsy. The
+parents of these girls had forgotten the sweet and harmonious names of
+their Anglo-Saxon ancestry. There were no more Ediths, or Ethels, or
+Cicelys, or Dorothys. Even the age of Lady Betty had passed and gone.
+Amelia, Caroline and Charlotte, Maria and Augusta were the order of the
+day.</p>
+
+<p>It agonizes one only to think of the way those unlucky girls violated
+the laws of taste. Their fathers surrounded them with bulky mahogany
+furniture, and green and blue woollen damask. No wonder they dressed
+themselves in harrowing mixture of magenta and pink and mauve. Why
+should they trouble to arrange their hair with any view to preserving
+the <i>contour</i> of their head, when every tea-cup they used was a
+monstrosity, every jug or bowl the violation of a law?</p>
+
+<p>The delicate fancy of Wedgewood and his school was banished and ignored
+with the Chippendale furniture and all the other graces of their
+grandfathers. Everything must be as large as possible, and as unwieldy.
+The questions of beauty and of usefulness were as nothing if only the
+table or chair were sufficiently cumbersome.</p>
+
+<p>Mercifully for us that terrible time of degradation was short. A
+violent reaction soon set in. But the period left its marks behind
+it&mdash;left a generation which it had infected and lowered, out of whom it
+had knocked all the romance, from whom it had extracted, in some fatal
+way, the faculty to appreciate the beautiful, and the Misses Willoughby,
+house and all, were a living monument of its hideous influence.</p>
+
+<p>The furniture remained as it had been in the life-time of their father.
+The sisters never wore anything out, so what would have been the object
+of renewing it? Everything looked as it used to look, and was arranged
+as it had been arranged in the days of their wasted girlhood, what could
+Elaine desire further? She would fare as they had done. It seldom
+occurred to them that their mode of life left anything to be desired.</p>
+
+<p>Let it not for a moment be thought that the study of art is here
+advocated as a remedy for all the ills that flesh is heir to, or that
+the laws of beauty are in any way suggested as a substitute for those
+higher laws without which life must be incomplete. It is of course more
+than possible for a woman with no eye at all for color, and an absolute
+disregard for symmetry, to lead the life of a heroine or a saint. And
+yet an innate instinct seems to suggest a close connection between the
+beauty of holiness and all the other million forms in which beauty is
+hourly submitted to our eye; and it seems just within the limits of
+possibility that a link should exist between the decadence of taste and
+the undoubted and unparalleled stagnation of religious life which
+certainly was to be found side by side with it.</p>
+
+<p>If we believe, as it is to be supposed Christians must, that a purpose
+exists in all the loveliness which is scattered about so lavishly
+through the natural world, then surely it follows that we can hardly
+afford to do quite without the help so afforded us, lest, in forgetting
+the loveliness of nature, we lose our aspiration towards the perfection
+of nature's God.</p>
+
+<p>Certainly, in the Willoughby family, the sister who evidently had the
+strongest feeling for beauty was the sister who most strongly suggested
+the Christian ideal of the spiritual life.</p>
+
+<p>The world in which Lady Mabel Wynch-Fr�re now found herself was a world
+so altogether new to her as to be exceedingly interesting to her
+restless mind.</p>
+
+<p>She did not find the particular grade of society in which her own lot
+was cast conspicuously fascinating. She had ability enough to despise
+the superficial life of a large portion of the fashionable world; and
+her delight was to seek out "fresh fields and pastures new."</p>
+
+<p>Elaine had inspired her with a peculiar interest. She was confident that
+the girl was a unique specimen in our essentially modern world. To watch
+the gradual unfolding of a mind behind the magnificent blankness of
+those enormous eyes, would be a study in emotions entirely after her
+ladyship's own heart. She knew that she already exerted a certain
+influence over this uncouth result of the Misses Willoughbys' attempts
+at education.</p>
+
+<p>As the girl sat at table, not eating a mouthful, her gaze was steadily
+rivetted on the new comer. To every word she uttered, a breathless
+attention was accorded. In vain the aunts remonstrated, and urged their
+usually meek charge to eat. She seemed dazed&mdash;in a dream&mdash;and sat on as
+if she did not hear them.</p>
+
+<p>"My youngest brother and I are the best of friends," said Lady Mabel to
+Miss Ellen. "We are the most alike of any of the family, and it is
+always a pleasure to us to be together. My little ones have had the
+whooping-cough&mdash;I adore my children, and I quite wore out myself with
+nursing them. When they were quite recovered, Claud thought I should
+take a little rest. My husband is just now in command of his regiment,
+and could not come with us, so we planned this little tour. To-day's
+tragic incident has been most unexpected. Stanton is our goal&mdash;we
+propose returning to London from thence, as we hear there is not much to
+see beyond. We have come along from Land's End&mdash;all the way! It seems
+perhaps a little heartless to say so, but in one way this tragedy will
+be of great interest to my brother. He has so desired to get a glimpse
+of the inner lives of these people. We have felt such complete
+outsiders, he and I&mdash;we have seen the country, but we cannot know the
+natives. At each inn, everybody puts on their company manners at once.
+We feel that they are endeavoring to suit their conversation to our
+rank. They will not appear before us naturally and simply; but you see,
+in a calamity like this, they have no time to pick their words. Like the
+doctor, one sees right into their hearts in such a moment; my brother
+will be deeply interested, I feel sure."</p>
+
+<p>"I am sure I hope the Battishills will remember to treat Mr. Cranmer
+with all due respect," said Miss Charlotte, with her manner of blank
+incomprehension of a word that had been said.</p>
+
+<p>It was such a conspicuously inapposite remark, that even Lady Mabel had
+no answer ready, and felt her flow of conversation unaccountably
+impeded.</p>
+
+<p>"They are very respectable people, as a rule," went on Miss Charlotte,
+"but Mrs. Battishill is apt to be short in her temper if flurried. I
+hope she was not rude to you, Lady Mabel?"</p>
+
+<p>"I scarcely saw her," answered her ladyship, perusing the speaker
+earnestly from her intense eyes.</p>
+
+<p>"I can understand that desire to win the hearts of the people," said
+Miss Ellen, quietly; "and I think perhaps our Cornish and Devonshire
+folk are particularly hard for strangers to read; they are very
+reserved, and their feelings are deep, and not easily stirred."</p>
+
+<p>"I am sure they are very ordinary kind of people, <i>I</i> never find any
+difficulty in getting on with them; I don't approve of all this rubbish
+about feeling," said Miss Charlotte, shortly.</p>
+
+<p>Before the visitor had been half-an-hour at table, she knew that "I am
+sure" of Miss Charlotte's by heart, and a deep feeling of pity for those
+who had always to listen to it sprang up within her. There seemed to be
+no point on which the excellent lady was not sure, yet the mere
+statement of an opinion by anyone else appeared to rouse in her breast a
+feeling of covert ire.</p>
+
+<p>"Elaine, my child, come here," said Miss Ellen, softly.</p>
+
+<p>Elaine started, rose, and came round the table. Her aunt took her hands.</p>
+
+<p>"You are eating nothing," she said, "and your hands are very hot. Don't
+you feel well? Are you tired?"</p>
+
+<p>"I am sure," remarked Miss Charlotte, "she has had nothing to tire
+her&mdash;she drove all the way home from Poole."</p>
+
+<p>"Yes, but she has been agitated&mdash;she has had a shock," said Miss Ellen,
+anxiously; with a strange feeling, as she looked into the girl's dilated
+eyes, that Elaine was gone, and that she was perusing the face of a
+stranger. "Do you feel shaken, dear child?"</p>
+
+<p>"Yes," said Elaine at last, in her unready way.</p>
+
+<p>"She had better have a little wine and water, and lie down," said her
+aunt, sympathetically. "Go and lie on the sofa, Elaine dear, and rest. I
+am so vexed&mdash;so grieved for her to see such a terrible thing," she said
+to Lady Mabel. "One would always keep young girls in ignorance even to
+existence of crime."</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, would you?" said her ladyship, in accents of such real surprise
+that each sister looked up electrified at the bare idea of questioning
+such orthodox teaching. "I mean," she explained, with a smile, "that I
+think women ought to be very useful members of society, and I should not
+at all like to feel that the sight of a wounded wayfarer by the roadside
+only inspired one with the desire to faint. I shall wish all my girls to
+attend ambulance classes, so that a broken limb may always find them a
+help, not a hindrance. One cannot shut up girls in bandboxes nowadays,
+and I would not, if I could. Let them be of some use in their
+generation&mdash;able to stop a bleeding artery till the doctor comes, as
+well as able to bake a cake or make their clothes. Do you agree with me,
+Miss Willoughby?"</p>
+
+<p>Ellen hardly knew. The doctrine was to her so utterly novel. Charlotte's
+breath was so taken away that she had not a word to offer.</p>
+
+<p>"Every woman is sure to have emergencies in her life, is she not?" asked
+her ladyship, in her earnest winning way. "If not of one kind, then of
+another. If she marries, her children are certain to call forth her
+resources, if she does not marry, her nephews and nieces very probably
+will do so instead. How can a girl take a serious view of life if she
+does not know its realities? Of course there are limits&mdash;there are
+things which had better not be discussed before girls, because it would
+do them no good to know them, and there is no need to intrude the
+ghastly and the wicked unnecessarily into their lives; but I certainly
+would train a girl's nerves so that a shock should not utterly prostrate
+her. I would teach her courage and presence of mind."</p>
+
+<p>There was no answer whatever to this speech. Miss Charlotte, having
+never reflected on the subject in her life, had no opinion to offer. She
+had always taken it for granted that a lady should do nothing beyond
+needlework, and perhaps a little gardening. "Accomplishments" were the
+order of her day, in which list were bracketed together, with grim
+unconscious irony, watercolor painting and the manufacture of wax
+flowers!</p>
+
+<p>Her ladyship rose, and crossed the room with her light energetic step to
+where Elaine had seated herself on the sofa. The girl had not lain down,
+but remained with her eyes fixed on the visitor, drinking in every word
+she uttered. A cool hand was laid on her forehead, and a pair of
+wonderful eyes gazed down into hers!</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, yes&mdash;her forehead is very hot. I would not give her wine; give her
+some iced milk and soda water and let her go to bed, she is quite
+exhausted," she said. "And now I must bid you good-night, if I do not
+wish to be benighted," she added, rising.</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, but indeed we cannot let you go on to-night," said Miss Ellen
+eagerly. "You must be good enough to stay with us here. We have many
+more rooms than we can occupy, and we shall be glad to be of use&mdash;&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>There was some polite demur, but it was overruled; all the sisters
+seconded Ellen's invitation, and finally Lady Mabel gratefully accepted
+it, and sent her coachman up to Poole, to apprise her brother of her
+whereabouts, and to bring back the latest news of the invalid.</p>
+
+<p>Meanwhile the night had come. With all its stars it hung quietly over
+the fairy valley in solemn and moonless splendor. Elaine, sent to bed,
+had crept out from between the sheets, and knelt, crouched down by her
+window, awaiting the return of the messenger from Poole.</p>
+
+<p>So irregular a proceeding was a complete novelty in her career; but oh!
+the strange, new, trembling charm of having such a day's experiences to
+look back upon!</p>
+
+<p>It had all happened so rapidly, in such a few hours. That afternoon had
+begun, dull and eventless; now, how different was everything. In an
+undefined, vague way she felt that things could never more be quite as
+they had been. A boundary line had been passed. The world was different,
+and for the first time in her nineteen years she was engaged in the
+perilous delight of contemplating her own identity.</p>
+
+<p>Up to the dark purple vault of heaven were sighed that night vague
+aspirations from a heart which had never aspired before; a prayer went
+with them, which, brief and shapeless as it was, was nevertheless the
+first real prayer of Elaine Brabourne's heart:</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, if only he may not die!"</p>
+
+<p>After all, the Misses Willoughby were but human, and had all the
+feelings of the English provincial middle-classes.</p>
+
+<p>Their reverence for the aristocracy had something well-nigh touching in
+its simple faith. Determined as they were against anything
+unconventional, they yet almost dared to think that Lady Mabel
+Wynch-Fr�re had a right to hold opinions&mdash;a right conferred on her by
+that mystic handle to her name, which sanctioned an eccentricity that
+would have been unpardonable in any woman less strongly backed up&mdash;any
+woman supported by a social position less unquestionable.</p>
+
+<p>Moreover, they could not but be sensible that the sojourn of this star
+of fashion at Edge Willoughby would set all the neighborhood talking,
+and that to them would be assigned, for a time at least, all the local
+importance they could possibly desire. Her ladyship's heresies were more
+than condoned, in consideration of her ladyship's consequence.</p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<h2>CHAPTER X.</h2>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i24">... For me,<br /></span>
+<span class="i12">Perhaps I am not worthy, as you say,<br /></span>
+<span class="i12">Of work like this; perhaps a woman's soul<br /></span>
+<span class="i12">Aspires, and not creates; yet we aspire...<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i28">... I,<br /></span>
+<span class="i12">Who love my art, would never wish it lower<br /></span>
+<span class="i12">To suit my stature. I may love my art,<br /></span>
+<span class="i12">You'll grant that even a woman may love art,<br /></span>
+<span class="i12">Seeing that to waste true love on anything<br /></span>
+<span class="i12">Is womanly, past question.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i24"><span class="smcap">E. B. Browning.</span><br /></span>
+</div></div>
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+
+<p>The heat of the blazing day was just beginning to be tempered with light
+puffs of sea-scented air as the sun declined, when the Honorable Claud
+Cranmer stepped upon the platform at Stanton, and asked the
+station-master if the London train were due.</p>
+
+<p>"Yes, it was&mdash;just signalled from Coryton;" and Claud, after the manner
+of his race, put his hands behind him, wrinkled up his eyelids on
+account of the sun, and gazed away along the flat marshy valley of the
+Ashe river, to catch the first glimpse of the approaching train.</p>
+
+<p>On the other side of the sandy river mouth lay the little old village of
+Ashemouth, picturesquely nestling at the foot of the tall cliff. It was
+a pretty view, but not to be compared at all with the beauty of Edge
+Combe.</p>
+
+<p>"I do hope the young lady will arrive," soliloquised the young man. "The
+poor fellow ought to have some one with him who knows him. I only wish I
+could hit upon some clue to the mystery; it's the most baffling thing!"</p>
+
+<p>He sighed, and then he yawned vigorously, for he had been up the greater
+part of the night, and he was a person whom it did not suit to have his
+rest disturbed. The village nurse had been quite inadequate to the task
+of holding poor Allonby in his bed, and so had aroused "the gentleman"
+at about two, since when he had only had an hour's nap. The day had been
+most distressing. Lady Mabel had sent Joseph, the coachman, into Stanton
+for ice, which he had obtained with difficulty, but it seemed as if
+nothing would abate the fierce heat in that sick-chamber, they longed
+for cool wind and cloudy skies to obscure the brilliant weather in which
+the haymakers were so rejoicing. As the fever grew higher, Dr. Forbes'
+face grew graver, and it was with a sickening dislike to being the
+bearer of such tidings that Claud set out for the station to meet the
+patient's sister, and drive her up to the farm.</p>
+
+<p>The train appeared at last, curving its dark bulk along the gleaming
+metals with the intense deliberation which marks the pace of all trains
+on branch lines of the South-Western.</p>
+
+<p>"No need to hurry oneself this hot weather," the engine appeared to be
+saying, comfortably, while Claud was feverishly thinking how much hung
+on every moment. He had formed no pre-conceived idea as to what Miss
+Allonby's exterior would be like. His eyes dwelt anxiously on the
+somewhat numerous female figures which emerged from the carriage doors.
+Most of them were mammas and nurses, with two or three small children in
+striped cotton petticoats, whose cheeks looked sadly in want of the
+fresh salt air of Stanton.</p>
+
+<p>At last he became aware of a girl, who he guessed might be the one he
+sought for, merely because he could not see anyone else who could
+possibly answer to that description.</p>
+
+<p>This girl must have alighted from the train with great celerity, for her
+portmanteau had already been produced from the van and laid beside her.
+She was rather tall and particularly slight&mdash;somewhat thin, in fact. She
+wore a dust-colored tweed suit very plainly made, and a helmet-shaped
+cap of the same cloth. Her face was pale, with an emphasis in the
+outline of the chin which faintly recalled her handsomer brother. Her
+eyes were keen, and her expression what Americans call intense.</p>
+
+<p>She was walking towards Mr. Cranmer, but her gaze was fixed on a porter
+who stood just behind him.</p>
+
+<p>"Is there a cart or anything in waiting to take me to Poole Farm?" she
+asked, with the thin clearness of voice and purity of accent belonging
+to London girls. Claud stepped forward, raising his cap.</p>
+
+<p>"I'm afraid I can't lay claim to being a <i>cart</i>," he said, modestly,
+"but perhaps you would kindly include me in your definition of a
+<i>thing</i>. I am in waiting to take you to Poole Farm."</p>
+
+<p>An amused look broke over the girl's face, a look not of surprise but of
+arrested interest; in a moment it changed, a shadow fell on the eyes as
+if a cloud swept by, she made a step forward and spoke breathlessly.</p>
+
+<p>"You come from Poole Farm? What news do you bring me of my brother?"</p>
+
+<p>Claud felt a sudden movement of most unnecessary emotion; there was such
+a feverish, pathetic force in the question, and in the expression of the
+mouth which asked it, that he was conscious of an audible falter in his
+voice, as he replied, as hopefully as he could:</p>
+
+<p>"Mr. Allonby has had a very bad accident, it is folly not to tell you
+that at once. He is very ill, but the doctor says he has a fine
+constitution, and hopes that everything&mdash;that all&mdash;in short, that he'll
+pull through all right. You will want to reach him as quickly as
+possible. Will you come this way, please?"</p>
+
+<p>He hurriedly took her travelling-bag from her, not looking at her face,
+lest he should see tears; and hastened out of the station to where
+Joseph stood with the trap.</p>
+
+<p>By the servant's side stood an unclassified looking man of quiet
+appearance, and plain, unostentatious dress. As Mr. Cranmer approached
+he stepped forward and touched his hat.</p>
+
+<p>"Mr. Dickens, sir, from Scotland Yard," he said, in a low voice.</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, ah! Yes, of course. You came down by this train. Just get on the
+box, will you, and we will take you straight to the scene of the
+tragedy, as I suppose all the newspapers will have it to-morrow," and
+Claud motioned Joseph to his seat with a hurried injunction "to look
+sharp." When he turned again to Miss Allonby, she was quite quiet and
+composed. Nobody could have guessed that she had received any news that
+might shock her. "Wasting my pity, after all, it seems," thought Claud,
+as he helped her into the carriage. "I hope you will excuse my driving
+up with you," he said, as he took his place beside her. "It's a good
+long walk, and I'm anxious to be back as fast as possible."</p>
+
+<p>"I can only thank you most sincerely for taking so much trouble on our
+account," she answered, at once, "and I should be so grateful if you
+would tell me something of what has happened. I am quite in the dark,
+and&mdash;the suspense is oppressive."</p>
+
+<p>"I shall be only too glad to help you in any way," he said, with one of
+his deft little bows, which always conveyed an impression of finished
+courtesy. "You are Miss Allonby, I presume?"</p>
+
+<p>"Yes&mdash;and you?"</p>
+
+<p>"My name's Cranmer, and I am a total stranger to your brother, whom I
+have never seen but in a state of perfect unconsciousness."</p>
+
+<p>He proceeded to relate to her all the incidents of the eventful
+yesterday.</p>
+
+<p>She listened with an interest which was visible but controlled, and with
+perfect self-possession. Her eyes rested on his face all the while he
+was speaking&mdash;not with any disagreeable persistency, but with a simple
+frank desire to comprehend everything&mdash;not the mere words alone, but any
+such shade of meaning as looks and expression can give.</p>
+
+<p>With his habit of close observation, Claud studied her as he spoke, and
+by the end of his narration had catalogued her features and attributes
+with the accuracy which was an essential part of him. There are men to
+whom girls are in some sense a mystery, who take in dreamy and
+comprehensive ideas of them, surrounded by a little idealization or
+fancy of their own, these could never tell you what a woman wore, how
+her dress was cut, not even the arrangement of her front hair&mdash;that all
+important detail!&mdash;nor the color of her eyes or size of her hands. It is
+to be conjectured that a certain loss of illusion might result to these
+men when, on being married, they find themselves unavoidably in close
+proximity to one of these heretofore mistily contemplated divinities,
+and by slow degrees make the inevitable discovery that their "phantom of
+delight" eats, drinks, sleeps, brushes her hair, and dresses and
+undresses in as mundane a fashion as their own.</p>
+
+<p>Claud Cranmer, though doubtless he lost much delight by never
+surrounding womanhood with a halo of unreality, yet would certainly be
+spared any such lowering of a preconceived ideal, since he took stock in
+a detailed and matter-of-fact way of every woman he met, and by the time
+Miss Allonby and he reached Poole Farm could have handed in a report as
+cool and unpoetically worded as Olivia's description of herself&mdash;"<i>Item</i>
+two lips, indifferent red&mdash;<i>item</i> two grey eyes with lids to them."</p>
+
+<p>But his companion's eyes were not grey, they were hazel and were the
+only feature of her face meriting to be called handsome. As before
+stated, she was pale, and had the air of being overworked&mdash;though this
+might be partially the result of a long and hurried journey. Her skin
+was fair and pure, with an appearance of delicacy, by which term is here
+meant refinement, not ill health. Her impassive critic observed that her
+ears were small and well-set, that the shape of her head was good, her
+teeth white and even, and her eyelashes long, she had no claims at all
+to be considered beautiful, or even what is called a pretty girl&mdash;which
+being stated, the reader will doubtless rush at once to the conclusion
+that she was plain, which was far from the case. It was just such a face
+as scarcely two people would be agreed upon. One might find it
+interesting, another complain that it was hatchetty, the former would
+admire the clean-cut way of the features, the latter gloomily prophecy
+nut-crackers for old age, and lament over angular shoulders and sharp
+elbows.</p>
+
+<p>It was not a face which attracted Claud. He was an admirer of beauty,
+and preferred it with a certain admixture of consciousness, he liked a
+woman's eyes to meet his with a full knowledge of the fact that they
+were of opposite sexes. He had a weakness for pretty figures, cased in
+dresses which were a miracle of cut; though of course the wearer must be
+more than an ornamental clothes-peg: he was too intelligent to admire a
+nonentity.</p>
+
+<p>Miss Allonby's dress was not badly cut, neither was it put on without
+some idea of the way clothes should be worn; but it was shabby, and had
+evidently never been costly. Her gloves, too, fitted her, and were the
+right sort of glove, but they were old and much soiled. Her shoes gave
+evidence that her foot was not too large for her height, and her hands,
+as Claud mentally noted, <i>were size six and a quarter</i>. Her face wore an
+expression which can only be described as preoccupied. Of course it was
+natural that on this particular day she should be thinking only of her
+brother; but her new acquaintance had penetration enough to know that
+there was more than a temporary anxiety in her eyes. Had he met her on
+any other day, under any other circumstances, it would have been the
+same; he was merely a passing event&mdash;something which was in no sense
+part of the life she was leading. She seemed to convey in some
+indescribable fashion the fact that he was not of the slightest
+importance to her, and the idea inspired a wholly unreasonable sensation
+of irritation.</p>
+
+<p>An unmarried doctor once somewhat coarsely engaged to point out all the
+portraits of unmarried women in a photographic album, on the theory that
+the countenance of all those who are single wears an expression of
+unsatisfied longing. Wyn Allonby's face would hardly have come under
+this heading. Hers was not a happy nor a perfectly contented look, but
+neither could it be said in any sense to express longing. It was the
+look of one who has much serious work to do, the doing of which involves
+anxiety, but also brings interest and pleasure&mdash;a brave, thoughtful,
+preoccupied look, more suggestive of a middle-aged man of science than a
+young girl.</p>
+
+<p>Claud found something indirectly unflattering in such an expression; he
+liked to have the female mind entirely at his disposal, <i>pro tem</i>. Her
+age, too, puzzled him; it was necessarily provoking to such an adept to
+find himself unable to decide this point within five years. She might be
+twenty-one, and looking older, or she might be twenty-five, and looking
+younger, or she might claim any one of the three intermediate dates.</p>
+
+<p>When he had told her all that there was to tell, he relapsed into silent
+speculation on these important points, now inclining to think that a
+life of hardship had made her prematurely self-possessed, now that her
+peculiarly unconscious temperament gave an air of fictitious youth. He
+would have liked to ask her some questions, or, rather, deftly to
+extract from her a few details as to who she was and what were her
+circumstances. But Miss Allonby gave him no opening. She was silent
+without being shy, which is certainly undue presumption in a woman.</p>
+
+<p>Her first words seemed to be extorted from her almost by force.</p>
+
+<p>They had left Stanton far behind. The distance from thence to Edge Combe
+was said to be about five miles; but these miles were not horizontal,
+but perpendicular, which somehow tended to increase their length
+considerably. They had climbed gradually but continuously for some time
+between tall hedges, up a lane remarkable only for its monotony; thence
+they had emerged, not without gratitude, into the Philmouth Road. This
+was a wide highway, somewhat indefinite as to its edges, which were
+fringed irregularly with hart's-tongue and other ferns, or clumped with
+low brambles bearing abundant promise of a future blackberry harvest. On
+either side a row of ragged and onesided pine-trees, stooping as if
+perpetually cringing before the stinging blows of the wild sou'-westers,
+which had so tortured them from their youth up that they habitually
+leaned one way, like children whose minds are warped from their natural
+bent by undue influence in one direction.</p>
+
+<p>Behind these trees the sky was beginning to flame with sunset, making
+their uncouth forms stand out weirdly dark in the still air.</p>
+
+<p>For a short way they drove quietly along this road, then turned down a
+precipitous lane to the left, and wound along till a white gate was
+reached. Mr. Dickens from Scotland Yard jumped down and opened the gate;
+and as the carriage went slowly through, and turned a corner, the effect
+was like a transformation scene, and a cry of wondering admiration broke
+from the silent girl.</p>
+
+<p>They stood on the very edge and summit of a descent so steep as to be
+almost a precipice. Below them lay the fairy valley, half-hidden in a
+pearly mist, with a vivid stretch of deep-blue sea as its horizon. Well
+in evidence lay Poole Farm, directly beneath them, a sluggish wreath of
+smoke curling lazily up from its great chimney. The road curved to and
+fro down the abrupt hillside like a white folded ribbon, here visible,
+there lost behind a belt of ash trees.</p>
+
+<p>"How beautiful," said Wynifred,&mdash;"how beautiful it is!"</p>
+
+<p>The rest of evening was over it all&mdash;over the tiny, ancient grey church
+far, far away towards the valley's mouth; over the peaceable red cows
+which lay meditatively here and there among the grass; over the
+sun-burnt group of laborers, who, their day's mowing done, were slowly
+making their way down to their hidden cottages, with fearless eyes of
+Devon blue turned on the strangers and their carriage.</p>
+
+<p>"What splendid terra-cotta-colored people!" said Miss Allonby, following
+them with her appreciative gaze. Mr. Cranmer was unable to help
+laughing. "They are a delicate shade of the red-brown of the cliffs,"
+said the girl, dreamily. "How full of color everything is!"</p>
+
+<p>Her companion mentally echoed the remark: it was the concise expression
+of a thought which in him had been only vague. She was right,&mdash;it was
+the color, the strange glow of grass, and cliffs, and sea, which so
+impressed eyes accustomed only to the "pale, unripened beauties of the
+north."</p>
+
+<p>"That is Poole Farm, right beneath us," he said. "It is not so near as
+it looks."</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, if I were only there!" she burst out; and then was suddenly still,
+as if ashamed of her involuntary cry.</p>
+
+<p>"Get on as fast you can, Joseph," said Mr. Cranmer, and felt himself
+unaccountably obliged to sit so as not to see the pale face beside him,
+nor to pity the evident force which she found it necessary to employ to
+avoid a complete break-down.</p>
+
+<p>When at last they stopped at the farm-yard gate, and he had helped her
+out, and seen her tall, slight figure disappear swiftly within the
+house, he experienced a relaxation of mental tension which was, he told
+himself, greatly out of proportion to the occasion; and, strolling into
+the big kitchen, was sensible of a quite absurd throb of relief when he
+heard that Dr. Forbes hoped his patient was just a little better.</p>
+
+<p>"It is strange how people vary," he reflected. "I have met two girls,
+one to-day, one yesterday, neither of whom is in the smallest degree
+like any girl I ever saw before."</p>
+
+<p>By which it will be inferred that his acquaintance with modern
+developments of girlhood had been limited pretty much to one particular
+class of society. The girl art-student he had never met in any of her
+varieties; and this opportunity of contemplating a new class, of
+perusing a fresh chapter in his favorite branch of study, was by no
+means without its charm.</p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<h2>CHAPTER XI.</h2>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i12">The clouds that gather round the setting sun<br /></span>
+<span class="i12">Do take a sober coloring from an eye<br /></span>
+<span class="i12">That hath kept watch o'er man's mortality;<br /></span>
+<span class="i12">Another race hath been, and other palms are won.<br /></span>
+<span class="i12">Thanks to the human heart by which we live,<br /></span>
+<span class="i12">Thanks to its tenderness, its joys and fears,<br /></span>
+<span class="i12">To me the meanest flower that blows can give<br /></span>
+<span class="i12">Thoughts that do often lie too deep for tears.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i24"><span class="smcap">Wordsworth.</span><br /></span>
+</div></div>
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+
+<p>The mellow coloring of the third evening which Claud Cranmer had spent
+at Poole Farm was inundating the valley with its warm floods of light.</p>
+
+<p>He was leaning meditatively against the stile which led from the farm
+garden to the Waste, and his eyes were fixed on the stretch of summer
+sea which, like a crystal gate, barred the entrance to the Combe. His
+thoughts were busy with a two-fold anxiety&mdash;partly for the man who lay
+fighting for life in the farmhouse behind him, partly concerning the
+mystery which attended his fate.</p>
+
+<p>Mr. Dickens of Scotland Yard had so far succeeded in discovering merely
+what everybody knew before, and was in a state of complete bewilderment
+which, he begged them to believe, was a most unusual circumstance in his
+professional career. The mystery of the pudding-basin and the blue
+dishcloth was as amazing and as incomprehensible to him as it was to
+William Clapp himself and his scared "missus."</p>
+
+<p>The good people of the district were sensible of a speedy dwindling of
+courage and hope, when it became evident that the London detective could
+see no farther through a brick wall than they could.</p>
+
+<p>They did long to have the stigma lifted from their district by the
+discovery that the murderer had been a stranger, an outlander, anybody
+but a native of Edge Combe; but, if Mr. Dickens had an opinion at all in
+the matter, it was that he was inclined to believe the crime perpetrated
+by some one who knew where to find his victim, and had probably walked
+out of the village purposely to give him his quietus. But why? What
+possible animus could any dweller in the valley have against the
+inoffensive young artist? The detective was privately certain that the
+entire motive for this affair must be looked for under the surface.</p>
+
+<p>"It's probable," said he to Mr. Cranmer, "that the victim himself is the
+only person likely to tell us anything about it. If he has enemies, it
+is to be supposed that he knew it. Mrs. Clapp has told us that he burnt
+a letter he received. That letter may have contained a warning which he
+thought fit to disregard. I have tried to make Mrs. Clapp recall any
+particulars she may have noticed as to its appearance, handwriting, or
+post-mark. But she seems to have noticed nothing; these rustics are very
+unobservant. I should like to ask Miss Allonby a few questions. She
+might be able to give us a clue."</p>
+
+<p>But Miss Allonby, being summoned, could not help them in the least.</p>
+
+<p>She came down from her brother's sick-room, with a tranquil composed
+manner, which encouraged Mr. Dickens to hope great things of her. She
+seated herself in one of the big kitchen chairs, and looked straight at
+him.</p>
+
+<p>"You want to ask me something?" said she.</p>
+
+<p>Claud spoke to her.</p>
+
+<p>"Yes," he said, "we want to ask you certain personal questions which
+would be very rude if we had not a strong warrant for them. I am sure
+you are as anxious as we are that the mystery of your brother's accident
+should be cleared up?"</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, yes," said Wyn.</p>
+
+<p>"Well, Mr. Dickens thinks that the motive we have to search for was a
+good deal deeper than mere robbery; he wants to know if Mr. Allonby had
+enemies. Do you know of anyone who wished him ill?"</p>
+
+<p>"No, certainly I don't," she replied at once. "Osmond is a most
+good-natured fellow, he never quarrels with a creature&mdash;he is too lazy
+to quarrel, I think. I don't know of a single enemy we have."</p>
+
+<p>"Will you tell me your brother's motive in coming down here to Edge
+Combe?"</p>
+
+<p>"Certainly. He came here to sketch. He had sold his landscapes at the
+Institute very well, and a friend of the gentleman who bought them
+wanted two in the same style. Osmond thought a change to the country
+would do him good. An artist friend of ours recommended Edge Combe, and
+so he came here."</p>
+
+<p>"Do you know the friend who recommended Edge Combe?"</p>
+
+<p>A slight hint of extra color rose in the girl's cheeks.</p>
+
+<p>"Yes, I know him; he is a Mr. Haldane, a student in the Academy
+Schools."</p>
+
+<p>"On good terms with your brother?"</p>
+
+<p>"Yes, of course; but he knows my sister Jacqueline better than he knows
+Osmond."</p>
+
+<p>"Would he be likely to write to Mr. Allonby?"</p>
+
+<p>"No, I hardly think so. He never has, that I know of. He sent the
+address of the inn on a postcard. Mrs. Clapp would know him&mdash;he stayed
+here several weeks last year."</p>
+
+<p>The detective pondered.</p>
+
+<p>"You are sure there was no quarrel&mdash;no jealousy&mdash;nothing that
+could&mdash;&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>"What, between my brother and Mr. Haldane? The idea is quite absurd.
+They are only very slightly acquainted, and Osmond is at least six years
+older than he is!"</p>
+
+<p>"Will you tell me, on your honor, whether you yourself can account in
+any way at all for what has occurred? Had you any reason whatever to
+think it likely such a thing might happen? Or were you absolutely and
+utterly horrified and surprised by such news?"</p>
+
+<p>"I was horrified and surprised beyond measure; so were my sisters. We
+are as much in the dark about the matter as you can possibly be. I can
+offer no guess or conjecture on the subject; it is quite inexplicable to
+me."</p>
+
+<p>"And you would think it quite folly to connect it in any way with Mr.
+Haldane?"</p>
+
+<p>She laughed rather contemptuously.</p>
+
+<p>"I'm afraid, even if he did cherish a secret grudge, Mr. Haldane is not
+rich enough to employ paid agents to do his murders for him; and, as he
+was at work in the R.A. schools when the crime was committed, it does
+seem to me unlikely, to say the least of it, that he had anything to do
+with the matter. What can make you think he had?"</p>
+
+<p>"Merely," answered the detective, somewhat confused, "that in these
+cases sometimes everything hangs on what seems such a trifling bit of
+evidence; and as you said this gentleman recommended your brother to
+come to this particular place&mdash;&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>"You thought he had an <i>arri�re pens�e</i>. I am afraid you are quite
+wrong. I cannot see how Mr. Haldane could possibly serve any ends of his
+own by compassing my brother's destruction," she said, evidently with
+ironical gravity. "Besides, I hardly think that either he or his agent
+would have troubled to carry away an empty basin as a momento of the
+deed."</p>
+
+<p>"The people all declare that no stranger passed through the village on
+that day," put in Claud.</p>
+
+<p>"No; and none of the inhabitants walked out towards the farm in the
+afternoon except Miss Brabourne and her maid. I have ascertained that
+past a doubt. I don't see any daylight nowhere," said poor Mr. Dickens,
+becoming ungrammatical in his despair.</p>
+
+<p>Claud could not but echo the remark. He walked over to Edge Willoughby
+in the afternoon with the same dreary bulletin. His sister was still
+there; she was anxious not to leave till the crisis was over, and her
+hostesses were proud to keep her. Elaine he scarcely saw; she was
+practising. He declined to stay to tea, as the good ladies urgently
+invited him. With a mind less absorbed he might have found them and
+their niece most excellent entertainment for a few idle hours; but, as
+it was, he was only anxious to get back to the farm, while every hour
+might bring the final change and crisis in the young artist's condition.</p>
+
+<p>Was everything to remain so shrouded in mystery? he wondered. Was there
+to be no further light shed on the details of so mysterious a case?
+Would Allonby die and go down in silence to the grave, unable to name
+his murderer, or to give any hint as to the motive of so vile an
+assault? Over all these things did he ponder as he leaned against the
+stile, and saw with unseeing eyes the loveliness of the dying day change
+and deepen over the misty hollow of the valley.</p>
+
+<p>He looked at his watch. It was past eight o'clock, and the quiet of dusk
+was settling over everything. He wondered what was passing in the
+sick-room&mdash;he longed to be there, but did not like to go, lest he might
+disturb the privacy of a brother and sister's last moments. But he did
+wish he could persuade the pale Wynifred to take some rest&mdash;she had
+never closed her eyes during the twenty-four hours she had been at
+Poole.</p>
+
+<p>As these thoughts travelled through his mind, he heard a slight sound,
+and, raising his eyes, saw the subject of his meditations emerge from
+the open farmhouse door. She did not see him, and moved slowly forward,
+with her eyes fixed on the western sky. Down the little path she passed,
+and then stepped upon the grass of the little lawn, and, with a long
+sigh almost like a sob, sat down upon the turf, and buried her face in
+her hands.</p>
+
+<p>"Was it all over?" Claud wondered, as he stood hesitatingly by the
+stile. "Should he go to her, or should he leave her to the privacy of
+her grief?"</p>
+
+<p>Unable to decide, he waited a few moments, and presently saw her raise
+her head again, and look around her like one who took in for the first
+time the fact of her surroundings.</p>
+
+<p>Stretching her hand, she gathered some white pinks from the garden
+border and inhaled their spicy fragrance; and Claud, slowly approaching,
+diffidently crossed the grass to where she sat.</p>
+
+<p>"Good evening," he said, raising his hat politely.</p>
+
+<p>"Good evening," she said, "and good news at last. I know you will be
+glad to hear. He is sleeping beautifully. Nurse and Dr. Forbes sent me
+away to get some rest, and I came out here into this air&mdash;this reviving
+air."</p>
+
+<p>"You don't know how glad I am," said Claud, from the bottom of his
+heart. "I was so anxious; it seemed as if that terrible fever must wear
+him out. But he'll do well now. Let me wish you joy."</p>
+
+<p>"Thank you," she said, with a smile, and her eyes fixed far away on the
+distance. "I feel like thanking everyone to-night&mdash;my whole heart is
+made up of thanksgiving. You don't know what Osmond is to us girls. We
+are orphans."</p>
+
+<p>"Ah! indeed!" said Claud, giving a sympathetic intonation to the
+commonplace words.</p>
+
+<p>"Yes; the loss of him would have been&mdash;&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>She stopped short, and, after a pause, began to talk fast, as though the
+relaxed strain of her feelings made it imperative that she should pour
+out her heart to somebody.</p>
+
+<p>"I had been sitting all the afternoon with my heart full of such
+ingratitude," she said. "I felt as if all the beauty was gone out of the
+world, and all the heart out of life. You know</p>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">'The clouds that gather round the setting sun<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Do take a sober coloring from an eye<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">That hath kept watch o'er man's mortality.'<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+<p>I could not help thinking of that, and of how true it was, as I watched
+the little red bits of cloud swimming in the blue, and it kept ringing
+in my head till I thought I must say it out loud&mdash;</p>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">'Another race has been, and other palms are won.'<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+<p>I do not want him, my brother, to win his palm yet; I wanted to look at
+sunsets with him again, and hear him enjoy this beauty as he can enjoy
+it&mdash;so thoroughly. Oh, we are very selfish in wanting to keep people we
+love on earth, when they might win their palms! But it is only human
+nature after all, you know; and I do think Osmond's life is a happy one,
+though it is so full of care."</p>
+
+<p>"I am sure it must be," said Claud, quietly, as he sat down on the grass
+beside her. "Life is a pleasant thing to every man who is young and has
+good health, more especially if he has love to brighten his lot. I think
+your brother a fort right, because you would have thought my denial an
+empty protestation, designed to make you say it again, with more
+decision; so I thought it better to let it drop."</p>
+
+<p>"Do you think we are the best judges of our own courage, or, in short,
+of our own capabilities any way?" asked Mr. Cranmer, following her
+example by gathering a few pinks and putting them in his button-hole.</p>
+
+<p>"I don't know; I think we ought to be&mdash;what do you think about it?"
+asked she, evidently with a genuine interest in the subject itself, and
+none to spare for Claud Cranmer.</p>
+
+<p>It was strange how this manner of hers non-plussed him. He was
+accustomed enough to hear girls discuss abstract topics, inward
+feelings, and the reciprocity of emotion&mdash;who in these days is not? But
+in his experience the process was always intended to serve as a delicate
+vehicle for flirtation, and however much the two people so occupied
+might generalise verbally, they always mentally referred to the secret
+feelings of their own two selves, and nobody else.</p>
+
+<p>He felt that Miss Allonby expected him to give a well thought out and
+adequate answer to her question, while he had been merely trifling with
+the subject, and had absolutely no intention of entering upon a serious
+discussion.</p>
+
+<p>He hesitated, therefore, in his reply, and at last calmly remarked that
+he believed he knew his faults, intimately&mdash;he saw so much of them; but
+that his acquaintance with his virtues was so slight that he scarcely
+knew them by sight much less by heart.</p>
+
+<p>She laughed, a clear fresh laugh of appreciation; but objected that this
+was not a fair answer.</p>
+
+<p>"But, perhaps," said she, "you are one of those who don't think it right
+to analyse their own emotions?"</p>
+
+<p>He shrugged his shoulders.</p>
+
+<p>"I don't know about thinking it right," he said. "Of course I have to do
+it, or pretend to do it, if I don't wish to be voted a fool by everyone
+I meet. And that reminds me, I have discovered, here in these wilds, a
+young lady who never even heard of the current topics of the day&mdash;who,
+far from dissecting the sentiments of her inmost being, does not even
+know herself the possessor of such a morbid luxury as an inmost being.
+You ought to see her; she is the most curious sample of modern young
+lady-hood it was ever my lot to meet. She has the mind and manners of
+an intelligent girl of ten; my sister tells me she is nineteen, but I
+really can scarcely believe it. She lives with some maiden aunts who
+have brought her to this pass between them. My sister is enthusiastic
+about her, and most anxious to have the pleasing task of teaching this
+backward young idea how to shoot. If she is as free from the follies as
+she is from the graces of girlhood, she is certainly unique."</p>
+
+<p>"You make me very anxious to see her. She must be like one of Walter
+Besant's heroines&mdash;Phyllis, in the "Golden Butterfly," or one of those.
+I have often wondered if such a girl existed. Is she charming?"</p>
+
+<p>"N&mdash;no. I don't think I could truthfully say I thought so; and yet she
+has all the makings of a beauty in her; but you can't attempt
+conversation&mdash;she wouldn't understand a word you said. She has seen
+nothing, heard nothing, read nothing. That last remark is absolutely,
+not relatively true; she really has read nothing. It gives, one an
+oppressive sense of responsibility; one has to pick one's words, for
+fear of being the first to suggest evil to such a primeval mind."</p>
+
+<p>Wyn laughed softly, and took a deliberate look at him as he lay on the
+turf. He had put up his arms over his head, and looked very contented
+and a good deal amused. He enjoyed chattering to a girl who had some
+sense, and was for the moment almost prepared to pardon the paleness and
+thinness, and even the unconsciousness of his companion, which latter
+characteristic affected him far the most seriously of the three.</p>
+
+<p>"Most undeveloped heroines turn out very charming when some one takes
+them in hand, and sophisticates them," said the girl. "I wonder if your
+discovery would do the same?"</p>
+
+<p>"I can't say. She has a very fine complexion," said Claud,
+inconsequently. "Her skin is rather the color of that pinky reach of sky
+yonder. What a night it is! It feels like Gray's elegy to me. I wonder
+if you know what I mean?"</p>
+
+<p>"Yes, I know. What an amount of quotations come swarming to one's mind
+on such a night! It is a consolation, I think, in the midst of one's own
+utter inadequacy to express one's feelings, to feel that some one else
+has done it for you so beautifully as Gray."</p>
+
+<p>A step behind them on the gravel, and, turning quickly, Wyn beheld Dr.
+Forbes.</p>
+
+<p>"Get up, young woman, get up this minute. I sent you to rest, not to
+come and amuse this young sprig of nobility with your conversation. Very
+nice for him, I've no manner of doubt; but, nice or not, you've got to
+bid him good-night and go to bed."</p>
+
+<p>Wyn rose at once, but attempted to plead.</p>
+
+<p>"I have been resting, doctor, indeed&mdash;drinking in this lovely air. I had
+to go out of doors&mdash;one must always go out of doors when one is feeling
+strongly, I think&mdash;roofs are so in the way. I wanted to look right up as
+far as that one star, and to send my heart up as far as my eyes could
+reach!"</p>
+
+<p>The doctor looked down at the face raised to him&mdash;pale with watching,
+but alive with happiness.</p>
+
+<p>"I'm of the opinion, Miss Allonby," said he, with a mouth sterner than
+his eyes, "that if the Honorable Claud Cranmer finds you so interesting
+when you're worn out with waking and fasting, you'll be simply
+irresistible after a good night's rest."</p>
+
+<p>The girl had vanished almost before this dreadful remark was concluded.
+The doctor chuckled as he watched her flight.</p>
+
+<p>"There's girls and girls," he remarked, sententiously; "some take to
+their heels when you joke them about the men. Some don't. I thought
+she'd go."</p>
+
+<p>"I had rather," said Claud, nettled, "that you indulged your humor at
+anyone's expense but mine."</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, that'll never hurt you," said the doctor, placidly, rubbing his
+eye-glasses with his red silk handkerchief, "nor her either. Young
+people get so fine-drawn and finikin now-a-days."</p>
+
+<p>Claud smiled.</p>
+
+<p>"I perceive, doctor, that you do not hold with the modern ideas
+concerning introspection. You are a refreshing exception. I regret that
+I was born a generation too late to adopt your habits of thought."</p>
+
+<p>"Habits of thought! Why, t'would trouble you mighty little to adopt all
+I've got," was the genial reply. "I've avoided all habits of thought all
+my life, and that's what makes me so useful a man. I just think what I
+think without referring to any book to tell me which way to begin.
+Hoot! I'd never think on tram-lines, as you do: I go clean across
+country, that's my way, and I'm bound to get to the end long before you,
+in your coach-and-four.</p>
+
+<p>"Yes," conceded Claud, "I expect you would; that is, if you didn't come
+a cropper on the way."</p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<h2>CHAPTER XII.</h2>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i12">A low cottage in a sunny bay<br /></span>
+<span class="i12">Where the salt sea innocuously breaks,<br /></span>
+<span class="i12">And the sea-breeze as innocently breathes<br /></span>
+<span class="i12">On Devon's leafy shores.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i24"><span class="smcap">Wordsworth.</span><br /></span>
+</div></div>
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+
+<p>"May I come in, Miss Willoughby? My brother is here, and has brought
+good news from Poole."</p>
+
+<p>"Come in, pray, Lady Mabel; and Mr. Cranmer too," said Ellen, raising
+herself eagerly on her couch. "Tell me all about this good news. Mr.
+Allonby will live?"</p>
+
+<p>"He will live, and is doing finely," said Claud, shaking hands with the
+invalid. "He has recognised his sister this morning, and spoken several
+coherent sentences. Dr. Forbes is much elated, and I must say I am
+greatly relieved; it would have been very tragic had he not recovered."</p>
+
+<p>"I am deeply thankful," said Miss Ellen, with a sympathetic moisture in
+her eyes. "How delighted his sister must be!"</p>
+
+<p>"She is. I fancy, from what I can gather, that she and her sisters are
+quite dependent on their brother; she told me they were orphans."</p>
+
+<p>"Poor children!" said Lady Mabel, in her impulsive way. "It would have
+been terrible had it ended fatally. I feel quite a weight lifted from my
+mind. Miss Willoughby, I must express to you my hearty thanks for having
+been so long troubled with me. I have sent Joseph into Stanton with a
+telegram telling Edward to come and fetch me, as Claud does not seem
+inclined to come back to London just yet awhile."</p>
+
+<p>"I want to try to get a clue to this affair before I go," said Claud,
+"for it has piqued my curiosity most amazingly. The fellow from Scotland
+Yard has quite made up his mind that we shall get the whole truth from
+Mr. Allonby's own lips; I'm inclined to think he must be right; but, of
+course, one can't torment the poor fellow about it while he is so weak."</p>
+
+<p>"How very reserved Englishmen are!" burst out Lady Mabel. "All of them
+are alike! Claud tells me that this Miss Allonby knows absolutely
+nothing of her brother's affairs, though, from what she said, they seem
+to be on the most confidential terms. She had never heard that he had an
+enemy. Claud, my dear boy, draw a moral from this sad story. Write the
+names and addresses of your secret foes upon a slip of paper, seal it in
+an envelope, and give it to me, not to be opened till you are discovered
+mysteriously murdered in an unfrequented spot."</p>
+
+<p>"A good idea, that, Mab," responded Claud, cheerfully, "and one that I
+shall certainly act upon. How would it be if I were to add a few
+memoranda to every name, hinting at the means of murder most likely to
+be employed by each? So that if I were knocked down with a cudgel, you
+might lay it to Smith; if prussic acid were employed, it would most
+likely be Jones; while a pistol-shot could be confidently ascribed as
+Robinson. Save the detectives a lot of trouble that way."</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, how can you jest on such a subject!" said Miss Ellen,
+reproachfully.</p>
+
+<p>The brother and sister were abashed, and Claud at once apoligised in his
+neat way.</p>
+
+<p>"We're Irish, you know, we must laugh or die," he said. "Only an Irish
+mind could have evolved the idea of a wake; they feast at their funerals
+because the sources of their laughter and their tears lie so close
+together, if they didn't do the one they must do the other. I am so
+relieved this morning&mdash;such a load's off my mind. Faith! if I didn't
+talk nonsense, I'd explode, as sure as a gun."</p>
+
+<p>"Bottle up your nonsense a bit, my boy, for the ears of one who's more
+used to it than Miss Willoughby," said Lady Mabel, patting him on the
+head admonishingly. "It's been something quite out of his line," she
+went on, explanatorily, "these last few days of anxiety and gravity. It
+has told upon him, poor fellow, and he must let off some steam. I am
+going to walk up to Poole with him, if you'll allow it, to call upon
+Miss Allonby. May we take Elsa with us?"</p>
+
+<p>Lady Mabel had shortened Elaine's name into Elsa, because she declared
+her to be like the Elsa of the old German myth.</p>
+
+<p>"She has just the expression," she said, "which I should imagine to have
+been worn by Elsa of Brabant, before the appearance of the champion on
+the scene. She has an unprotected appealing look, as if she were
+imploring some one to take her part. If I could get her to London she
+would not long appeal in vain."</p>
+
+<p>Elsa worshipped Lady Mabel, as it was natural she should; and the idea
+of a visit to London being held out to her had caused such excitement as
+prevented her sleeping and almost bereft her of appetite. Every turn of
+their visitor's head, every sweep of her tasteful draperies, every puff
+of the faint delicate perfume she used, every tone of her deep vibrating
+voice was as the wave of an enchanter's wand to the bewildered girl. She
+looked now with aching misery on her own ill-cut, misfitting garments;
+she pondered with sharp misgivings over her face in the glass, as she
+remembered the thick artistic sweep of Lady Mabel's loose grey hair, as
+it made dark soft shadows over those mysterious, never-silent eyes. A
+passion of discontent, of longing, of unnamed desire was sweeping like a
+summer storm over the girl's waking heart and mind. The feminine
+impulses in her were all arousing. Slowly and imperfectly she was
+learning that she was a woman.</p>
+
+<p>With the strange reticence which she had imbibed from her bringing up,
+she mentioned none of this. Lady Mabel had very little idea of the
+seething waves of feeling which every look and smile of hers was
+agitating afresh. She talked to the girl on various subjects, to be
+surprised anew at every venture by the intense and childish ignorance
+displayed; but on the subjects which were just then paramount in
+Elaine&mdash;dress, personal appearance, love&mdash;of these she never touched,
+and so never succeeded in striking a spark from the smouldering
+intelligence. It was Miss Charlotte who most noted a difference in her
+pupil.</p>
+
+<p>In the old days, when the girl first came Edge, she had been the
+possessor of a temper which was furious in its paroxysms. This temper
+the combined aunts had set themselves soberly to subdue and to
+eradicate. They had succeeded admirably as far as the subduing went; no
+ebullition was ever seen; rebellion was as much a thing of the past as
+the Star Chamber or the Inquisition; but as regards eradication they had
+not succeeded at all.</p>
+
+<p>In some dumb indescribable way, Miss Charlotte was now made by her pupil
+to feel this daily. In her looks and words, but chiefly in her manner,
+was an unspoken defiance. She still came when she was called, but she
+came slowly; she still answered when spoken to, but her manner was
+impertinent, if not her words. She was altered, and the fact of not
+being able to define the change made Miss Charlotte irritable.</p>
+
+<p>Poor lady! she sat stewing in the hot school-room, hearing Elaine read
+French with praiseworthy patience and fortitude, little thinking how
+entirely a work of supererogation such patience was, nor how much more
+salutary it would have been for both if, instead of goading her own and
+her niece's endurance to its last ebb over the priggish observations of
+a lady named Madame Melville&mdash;who gave her impossible daughter bad
+advice in worse French with a persistency which would certainly have
+moved said daughter to suicide had she not been, as has been said,
+impossible&mdash;if instead of this Miss Charlotte had taken Elsa to see the
+world around her, the pleasant, wholesome world of rural England, with
+its innocuous society, its innocent delights, its tennis-parties and
+archery meetings, its picnics and pretty cool dresses, and light-hearted
+expeditions. Above all, its youthfulness.</p>
+
+<p>To be young with the young&mdash;that was what this poor Elsa needed. That
+was what her aunts could not understand, and they could not see,
+moreover, what consequences might spring from this well-intentioned
+ignorance of theirs.</p>
+
+<p>Says Mrs. Ewing, who perhaps best of all Englishwomen understood English
+girlhood:</p>
+
+<p>"Girls' heads are not like jam-pots, which, if you do not fill them,
+will remain empty."</p>
+
+<p>Every girl's head will be full of something. It is for her parents and
+guardians&mdash;spite of Mr. Herbert Spencer&mdash;to decide what the filling
+shall be.</p>
+
+<p>Nothing of this recked Elaine's instructress, as she sat with frowning
+brow and compressed mouth, listening while the intolerable Madame
+Melville accosted her daughter thus:</p>
+
+<p>"You are happy in your comparisons this morning, and express them pretty
+well."</p>
+
+<p>In dreary monotone and excruciatingly English accent the girl read on,
+as the obsequious dancing master wished to know.</p>
+
+<p>"Vous ne voulez point que je la fasse valser?"</p>
+
+<p>"Non," replied his prophetic patroness, "je suis persuadee que cette
+mode n'est pas faite pour durer!"</p>
+
+<p>And this volume bore date 1851.</p>
+
+<p>To waltz! The very word had a secret charm for Elaine. What was this
+waltzing? she ignorantly wondered. Something pleasant it must have been,
+as Madame Melville declined to allow poor Lucy to learn it, and her
+meditations grew so interesting that she lost her place on the dreary
+page, and was only recalled to the present by Miss Charlotte's irritable
+tones:</p>
+
+<p>"I am sure I cannot think what has come over you, Elaine! You seem quite
+unable to fix your attention on anything."</p>
+
+<p>Meanwhile, upstairs in Miss Ellen's room, Elaine was the subject of
+conversation.</p>
+
+<p>"May we take your Elsa with us on our walk to Poole? She will like to
+see Miss Allonby?" Lady Mabel suggested, instigated thereto by a hint
+from Claud that he should like to renew the acquaintance of the Sleeping
+Beauty in the Wood.</p>
+
+<p>"If you could wait half an hour&mdash;Charlotte does not like her hours
+interfered with," said Miss Ellen, deprecatingly. "She will be free at
+four o'clock."</p>
+
+<p>"Does Miss Brabourne never take a holiday?" asked Claud, tracing
+patterns with his stick on the carpet.</p>
+
+<p>"Well&mdash;not exactly. She is not hard worked, I think," said Miss Ellen,
+feeling bound to support the family theory of education, in spite of her
+own decided mistrust of it. "It is very bad for a young girl to have
+nothing to occupy her time with&mdash;my sister considers some regularity so
+essential."</p>
+
+<p>"I should have thought," Lady Mabel was unable to resist saying, "that a
+young woman of nineteen could have arranged her time for herself, if she
+had been properly taught the responsibilities of life."</p>
+
+<p>The wavering pink flush stole over the invalid's kind face.</p>
+
+<p>"I am afraid we middle-aged women forget the flight of years," she said,
+with gentle apology. "To us, Elaine is still the child she was when she
+came to us twelve years ago."</p>
+
+<p>"It's most natural," said Claud. "Will Miss Brabourne always live with
+you? I remember, when Colonel Brabourne died, hearing that the terms of
+the will were confused, or that there was some mess about it. Was not
+the estate thrown into Chancery? I hope it is not rude of me to ask?"</p>
+
+<p>"Not at all," answered Ellen, "I should be really glad to talk over the
+child's future with some one not so totally ignorant of the world as I
+am. The whole story is a painful one to me, I own, but it has to be
+faced," she added, with an effort, after a short pause; "it has to be
+faced."</p>
+
+<p>"Don't you say a word if you would rather not," said Lady Mabel,
+earnestly. "But if you would really like my brother's opinion, he will
+be most interested to hear what you have to say. He is a barrister, and
+might be of some use to you."</p>
+
+<p>The Honorable Claud grew rather red, and laughed at his sister.</p>
+
+<p>"Don't let Mab mislead you, Miss Willoughby," he said. "I was called to
+the Bar in the remote past, but I have never practised. Still, I learnt
+some law once, and any scraps of legal knowledge I may have retained are
+most entirely at your service."</p>
+
+<p>"You are very kind, and I will most willingly tell you as well as I can
+how matters stand," said Miss Ellen. "We had formerly another
+sister&mdash;Alice&mdash;she was the youngest except Emily, and she was very
+pretty."</p>
+
+<p>"I can well believe it," said Lady Mabel, purely for the pleasure of
+seeing Miss Willoughby's modest blush.</p>
+
+<p>"In those days," she went on, "we went every year to London for the
+months of May and June; my father was alive, you understand, and he
+always took us. There we met Colonel Brabourne, and he fell in love with
+our pretty Alice. My father saw no reason against the match, except that
+he was twenty years older than she; but she did not seem to mind that,
+and was desperately in love with him. When they had been engaged only a
+few weeks, my father died very suddenly, and, as soon as the mourning
+would allow, Colonel Brabourne insisted on being married. It was a very
+quiet wedding, of course, and there were no settlements of any
+kind&mdash;nothing that there should have been. Everything was very hurried;
+his regiment was just ordered to India, he wished her to accompany him;
+we knew nothing of business, and we had no relations at hand to do
+things for us. They were just married as soon as the banns could be
+called, and away they went to Bengal. My father left his fortune to be
+divided equally among his daughters, and secured it to their
+descendants, so that Elaine will have, in any case, more than �200 a
+year of her own; but now comes the puzzling part of the story. The
+climate of India proved fatal to my sister. She was never well after her
+marriage; and, when Elaine was born, her husband got leave to bring his
+wife and child to England, to see if it were possible to save her. It
+was not. She flagged, and drooped, and pined, and gradually we got to
+know that she was in a deep decline. It was just at this time, when her
+husband and all of us were almost crazy with anxiety, that Alice's
+godmother, a rich widow lady named Cheston, living in London, died. In
+consequence of Alice being named after her, she left her all her
+fortune&mdash;about fifty thousand pounds. This was left quite
+unconditionally.</p>
+
+<p>"We were all so anxious about our sister, I think we scarcely noticed
+the bequest. She died about a fortnight afterwards, leaving a little
+will, dated before she knew of this legacy, bestowing everything she
+could upon her husband, with whom, poor darling, she was madly in love,
+then and always. She was, of course, sure of his doing all he could for
+little Elaine. My experience of the world is very limited," said Miss
+Willoughby, wiping her eyes, "but I must say I think men are the most
+incomprehensible beings in creation. You would have thought that
+Valentine Brabourne was absolutely inconsolable for the loss of his
+wife. He threw up his commission, and went to live in seclusion, taking
+his baby daughter with him. We saw nothing of him."</p>
+
+<p>"Did he live on his wife's money?" asked Claud.</p>
+
+<p>"He lived on the income of it chiefly. He had very little of his own,
+besides his pay. I did not see how we could interfere. His wife's will
+left the money to him, by implication, and of course I thought it would
+be Elaine's. But when she was three years old he married again&mdash;a
+person who&mdash;who&mdash;&mdash;" Miss Willoughby faltered for an expression. "Well,
+a person of whom my sisters and I could not approve. She was a Miss
+Orton, and lived with her brother, who was what they call a book-maker,
+I believe. It did seem so strange that, after mourning such a wife as
+Alice, he should suddenly write from the midst of his retirement to
+announce himself married to such a person. We did not wish to be selfish
+or unpleasant&mdash;we invited him and his wife down here, but we really
+could not repeat the experiment."</p>
+
+<p>Tears of pleading were in the poor lady's eyes.</p>
+
+<p>"I hope you will not think me narrow," she said, "I know we lead too
+isolated a life; but I could not like Mrs. Brabourne. She smoked
+cigarettes, and drank brandy and soda water. She was always reading a
+pink newspaper called the <i>Sporting Times</i>, and I think she betted on
+every horse-race that is run," said poor Miss Willoughby, vaguely. "She
+talked about Sandown and Chantilly, and other places I had never heard
+of. She never went to church, and appeared, from her conversation, to do
+more visiting and gambling on the Sunday than on any other day. She was
+a handsome young woman, with her gowns cut like a gentleman's coat. She
+drove very well, and used to wear a hard felt hat and dogskin gloves. I
+cannot say I liked her. My sisters could none of them approve. She was
+unwomanly, I cannot but think it, and I am sure she influenced her
+husband for evil. Soon after her stay here, she had a baby, but it died
+within twenty-four hours of its birth; so the next year, and the next. I
+am sure she took no proper care of herself, but when she had been four
+years married, she had a son, who did live, and was called Godfrey. Six
+months after his birth, his father was thrown in the hunting-field and
+killed. He left a will bequeathing the whole of his property&mdash;this fifty
+thousand which had been poor Alice's,&mdash;to his son Godfrey. Mrs.
+Brabourne was to have three hundred a year till her death, and a certain
+sum was set aside for the maintenance and education of both children
+till they were of age. And all this of Alice's money&mdash;our Alice! Do you
+call that a just will, Mr. Cranmer?"</p>
+
+<p>"I call it simple theft," said Claud, shortly; "but, if the will your
+sister left be legally valid, I don't see what you are to do in the
+matter."</p>
+
+<p>"So our solicitor said," sighed Miss Willoughby. "He thought we had no
+grounds at all for litigation; but I think that everyone must confess
+that it is a hard case. I wish it had been possible to throw it into
+Chancery, but it was not."</p>
+
+<p>"I can just remember there being some talk about it," said Lady Mabel.
+"I call it a very hard case."</p>
+
+<p>"If it had been half!" said Miss Willoughby. "I would not have grudged
+the boy half my sister's fortune; but that he should leave it all to
+him!"</p>
+
+<p>The clock struck four as she spoke, and the sound of a closing door was
+heard.</p>
+
+<p>"Here comes Elaine," she said. "Please mention nothing of all this to
+her. She does not know."</p>
+
+<p>"Does she not? Why not tell her?" asked Lady Mabel.</p>
+
+<p>"I thought it might set her against her brother," answered Miss Ellen,
+"or make her disrespect the memory of her father. But I cannot feel as I
+should towards the Ortons I must confess. There was something very
+underhand; something must have been done, some undue influence exerted
+to induce him to leave such a will, for I know he loved Alice as he
+never loved his second wife."</p>
+
+<p>"Is she alive still, the second Mrs. Brabourne?" asked Claud.</p>
+
+<p>"No; she died two years ago. The boy is more than twelve years old. The
+money will be worth having by the time he attains his majority; when
+Elaine is twenty-one, I shall make another effort on her behalf."</p>
+
+<p>"I am sure I wish you success, but I am afraid you have no case," said
+Claud, regretfully.</p>
+
+<p>As he spoke the door was opened, and Elaine walked in.</p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<h2>CHAPTER XIII.</h2>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i12">Ankle-deep in English grass I leaped,<br /></span>
+<span class="i12">And clapped my hands, and called all very fair.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+<hr style="width: 30%;" />
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i12">In the beginning, when God called all good,<br /></span>
+<span class="i12">Even then was evil near us, it is writ;<br /></span>
+<span class="i12">But we indeed, who call things good and fair,<br /></span>
+<span class="i12">The evil is upon us while we speak;<br /></span>
+<span class="i12">Deliver us from evil, let us pray.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i24"><span class="smcap">Aurora Leigh.</span><br /></span>
+</div></div>
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+
+<p>As the young girl entered the room Claud Cranmer rose, with a quick
+gesture of courtesy.</p>
+
+<p>Elaine, not prepared to see strangers, paused, and the ingenuous morning
+flush of youth passed over her face in a wave of exquisite carmine.
+Claud thought he had never beheld anything more lovely than that
+spontaneous recognition of his presence. She had not blushed when he met
+her first&mdash;her anxiety for Allonby had been paramount. And the pale girl
+up at Poole, with the sculptured chin, never blushed at all, but looked
+at him with frank and limpid eyes as if he were entirely a matter of
+course.</p>
+
+<p>But for Elsa, dawn had begun; the sun was rising, and naturally the
+light was red. Oddly enough, an old country rhyme floated in Claud's
+mind&mdash;</p>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">"A red morning's a shepherd's warning."<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+<p>He did not know quite why he should think of such a thing, but a good
+many varying emotions were stirred in him as he scrutinised this girl
+who had so nearly escaped the inheritance of a considerable fortune.</p>
+
+<p>What a complexion she had! Her inexorable critic mentally compared her
+with the slim Wynifred. A throat like a slender pillar of creamy marble,
+lips to which still clung that delicate moist rose-red which usually
+evaporates with childhood, a cheek touched with a peach-like down,
+eyelashes long enough to shadow and intensify the light eyes in a manner
+most individual, but hard to describe. What a pity, what a thousand
+pities, that all this effect should be marred and lost by the cruel
+straining back of the abundant locks, and the shrouding of the
+finely-developed form in a garment which absolutely made Mr. Cranmer's
+eyes ache.</p>
+
+<p>The girl smiled at him&mdash;a slow smile which dawned by degrees over her
+lovely, inanimate face. The look in her eyes was enough to shake a man's
+calmness; and when she asked, "How is Mr. Allonby?" he felt that she had
+some interest to spare for Mr. Allonby's messenger.</p>
+
+<p>Here was a type of girlhood he could understand, for whose looks and
+smiles he could supply a motive.</p>
+
+<p>He watched her every moment keenly, and soon found out that her
+awkwardness was the result of diffidence and restraint, not of native
+ungainliness. He determined that Mabel must have her to stay with her,
+and civilize her. She would more than repay the trouble, he was
+confident.</p>
+
+<p>He saw the sudden ardent glow of pleasure succeed the restless chafing
+of suspense when at last permission was accorded for her to walk to
+Poole with Lady Mabel.</p>
+
+<p>"Run and put on your hat," said Miss Ellen, indulgently, and away darted
+the girl with radiant face.</p>
+
+<p>"Jane," she cried, bursting into the <i>ci-devant</i> nursery where Miss
+Gollop reigned supreme, "where's my best hat&mdash;quick! I am going out with
+Lady Mabel and Mr. Cranmer!"</p>
+
+<p>"Your best hat's in its box, where it'll stop till Sunday," answered
+Jane, placidly. "You ain't going trapesing along the lanes in it, I can
+tell you, Lady Mabel or no Lady Mabel."</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, Jane, you are unkind! Do let me wear it."</p>
+
+<p>"You shan't wear it, Miss Elaine, and that's flat. Once take it out in
+this sun, you'll have the straw burnt as yaller as them sunflowers."</p>
+
+<p>"Where's my second best?" grumbled the girl, turning to the press.</p>
+
+<p>"On the Philmouth Road, for all I knows; at least, that's where you last
+left it, ain't it?"</p>
+
+<p>"And am I to go out in my garden-hat&mdash;with Lady Mabel Wynch-Fr�re?"
+cried Elaine, aghast.</p>
+
+<p>"I don't see no other way for it," said Jane, calmly, drawing her
+thimble down a seam to flatten it, with a rasping noise which set her
+charge's teeth on edge.</p>
+
+<p>"Well, Jane, I never heard of such a thing!" she burst forth after a
+pause of speechless indignation.</p>
+
+<p>"I can't help it, miss; I must teach you to take care of your clothes.
+You're not going flaunting over to Mrs. Battishill's in that ostrich
+feather o' yours. Maybe, next time you drop your hat in the road, you'll
+remember to pick it up again."</p>
+
+<p>Surely Elaine's fairy godmother spoke through the untutored lips of Jane
+Gollop!</p>
+
+<p>Instead of presenting herself to Claud in a headgear covered with yellow
+satin ribbon and a bright blue feather, Elsa appeared downstairs in her
+wide-brimmed garden-hat, simply trimmed with muslin; and narrowly
+escaped looking picturesque.</p>
+
+<p>How different was the road to Poole, now that she trod it with such
+companions! Her heart was light as air, her young spirits were all
+stretched eagerly, almost yearningly forward into the unknown country
+whose border she had crossed so lately.</p>
+
+<p>Her fancy played sweetly around the image of the artist-hero, her pulses
+beat a glad chime because he was living, and not dead. She waxed less
+shy, and chatted to her companions,&mdash;even daring to ask questions, a
+thing her aunts never permitted. She gave them reminiscences of her
+childish days, when she lived in London, and of a dream she had
+constantly of streets full of houses, one after another, in endless
+succession, with very few trees among them.</p>
+
+<p>"That is all I know of London," she said, "and I hardly remember
+anything that happened, except hearing the baby cry in the night. It was
+Godfrey. I used to wake up in my little bed, and see nurse sitting with
+the baby near the lamp, rocking him in her arms. I remember being taken
+in to kiss papa when he was dead; but that was not in London&mdash;it was
+somewhere in the country&mdash;at Fallowmead, where Godfrey's uncle has his
+racing-stud. I remember mamma; she was not my real mamma. I could not
+bear her. She used to whip me, and once I bit her in the arm."</p>
+
+<p>"My dear Elsa!" said Lady Mabel.</p>
+
+<p>"I did. I was a very naughty little girl&mdash;at least, Jane always says
+so. I remember being shut up alone for a punishment."</p>
+
+<p>As she spoke, they turned a bend in the road, and came in sight of the
+spot where the crime had been perpetrated.</p>
+
+<p>Two men stood there talking together. One was Mr. Dickens of Scotland
+Yard, the other Elsa greeted with a glad wave of the hand in greeting.</p>
+
+<p>"Oh," cried she, springing forward, "it's Mr. Fowler, it's my godfather!
+I did not know he had come back!"</p>
+
+<p>At the sound of her voice, Mr. Fowler turned round, and his face lighted
+up as she came towards him.</p>
+
+<p>"Why, Elsie!" he said, "there you are, my child! And I'm hearing such
+doings of yours, it makes me quite proud of you. And you, sir," he went
+on, addressing Claud, "are Mr. Cranmer, I suppose, and entitled to my
+very hearty goodwill for your behavior in this matter."</p>
+
+<p>Claud had heard of Mr. Fowler before, as a local justice of the place,
+and he gladly shook hands with him, scrutinizing, of course, as he did
+so, the general mien and bearing of his new acquaintance.</p>
+
+<p>Mr. Fowler was short, square, sturdy, and plain. His hair and thick
+short beard had once been jet black, but were now iron grey. His skin
+was exceedingly dark, almost swarthy, and his eyes, big, soft, and
+luminous, were his one redeeming feature. His manner was a curious
+mixture of gentleness and strength; he never raised his voice, but his
+first order was always instantly obeyed. Something there was about him
+which invited confidence; he was not exactly polished, yet his manner to
+women was perfect. Gentle as was his eye, it yet had a curiously
+penetrating expression, and Lady Mabel, used as she was to what should
+be the best school of breeding in England, was yet struck with the
+simplicity and repose of his address.</p>
+
+<p>"I only came back to Edge Combe yesterday," he said, and, though he had
+lived all his life in South Devon, Claud noticed at once that the rough
+burr of the "r" was absent from his quiet voice. "I am often absent for
+some months, on and off, managing some tin mines in Cornwall; and it was
+through the medium of the newspapers I learned what had been going
+forward in our little valley. And now, Mr. Cranmer, what do you think
+about it?"</p>
+
+<p>"I'm afraid I must postpone my opinion till Mr. Allonby himself has been
+questioned," said Claud.</p>
+
+<p>"Exactly what I've been telling Mr. Fowler," observed Mr. Dickens, who
+wore a baffled and humbled look. "Nothing can be done till Mr. Allonby
+speaks. It's a case of <i>vendetta</i>, I'll go bail; and it's done by one
+that's accustomed to the work, too; accustomed to cut the stick and
+leave no traces."</p>
+
+<p>"Cut the stick&mdash;the stick they knocked him down with?" asked Elsa in
+low, horrified tones.</p>
+
+<p>Claud smiled.</p>
+
+<p>"Your theory hardly holds with Dr. Forbes, Mr. Dickens," he said rather
+shortly. "He declares the blows were given by a novice&mdash;by a hand that
+didn't know where to plant his blows."</p>
+
+<p>"Well, I don't know what to say," snapped the detective. "Here's a man
+beat almost to death on the high-road in broad daylight; some one must
+have done it. Where is he? There ain't a trace of him. Nobody has met a
+single soul that could be taken up on suspicion&mdash;nobody has seen anybody
+as so much as looked suspicious. Miss Brabourne and her servant met
+nobody as they came along not half-an-hour afterwards. It ought to be
+some one uncommon deep, and not a tramp nor a fishy-looking party of any
+kind."</p>
+
+<p>All this was true. Claud was inclined to think that the detective had
+done his best, and his ill-success was owing to the very strange nature
+of the case, and not to his inability.</p>
+
+<p>They left him sadly ruminating by the wayside, and crossed the Waste to
+the farm, Elaine with her hand clasped tightly in the square, short,
+hard palm of her godfather.</p>
+
+<p>"This has been an adventure for you, little woman," he said. "What do
+the aunts say?"</p>
+
+<p>"They are surprised," answered she, with her usual paucity of
+vocabulary.</p>
+
+<p>"I should think they were! And horrified too&mdash;eh?"</p>
+
+<p>"Yes, very. Aunt Fan nearly had hysterics."</p>
+
+<p>"Poor Aunt Fan! I don't wonder. I have a great respect for the Misses
+Willoughby," he said, turning to Lady Mabel. "I have known them all my
+life."</p>
+
+<p>His voice seemed to soften involuntarily as he said it, and, as his eyes
+rested lingeringly on Elaine's face, Lady Mabel could not help framing
+a romance of twenty years ago, in which he and pretty Alice Willoughby
+were the leading characters; and a swift bitter thought of the
+complications of life crossed her mind. Had Alice mated with the deep
+patient love that waited for her, and chosen a home by "Devon's leafy
+shores" instead of the hot swamps of the Ganges, she had probably been a
+happy blooming wife and mother now, with the enjoyment of her
+godmother's fortune duly secured to her children.</p>
+
+<p>And now here stood Elsa, comparatively poor, fatherless, motherless;
+while Henry Fowler, like Philip Ray, had gone ever since "bearing a
+life-long hunger in his heart." All this, of course, was pure surmise,
+yet it seemed to invest the homely features and square figure of the
+Devonian with a halo of tender feeling in her eyes; for Lady Mabel had a
+romance of her own.</p>
+
+<p>"Did you have hysterics, Elsie?" asked Mr. Fowler.</p>
+
+<p>"No; I lost my hat," answered she, in a matter-of-fact way which made
+them all three laugh.</p>
+
+<p>"It was a wiser thing to do," he answered, in his quiet voice. "But the
+whole affair must have been a great shock to you, lassie."</p>
+
+<p>"Yes," said the girl&mdash;an inadequate, halting answer.</p>
+
+<p>Dimly she was feeling that that day had been not all darkness&mdash;that it
+was the beginning of life. She did not know the inviolable law of
+humanity, that no new life is born without a pang; but imperfectly she
+felt that her pain had been followed by a feeling of gladness for which
+she could not account, and that the days now were not as the days that
+had been.</p>
+
+<p>"What a solitude," says somebody in some book, "is every human soul." At
+that moment the solitude of Elaine Brabourne's soul was very great. She
+was standing where the brook and river met; vaguely she heard the sound
+of coming waters foaming down into the quiet valley. It awed her, but
+did not terrify. There was excitement, but no fear. And of all this
+those who walked beside her knew nothing.</p>
+
+<p>Henry Fowler was one of those who surround womanhood with a halo, and
+his feminine divinity had taken form and shape. It had borne a name, the
+name of Alice Willoughby&mdash;for Lady Mabel's surmise had been correct.</p>
+
+<p>Had he known how near the torrent stood near the untried feet of
+Alice's daughter, he would have flung out his strong right arm, caught
+her in a firm hold, and cried, "Beware!"</p>
+
+<p>But he did not know. He saw only with his waking eyes, and those told
+him that Elaine had grown prettier&mdash;nothing more. She was safe and
+sound&mdash;she was walking at his side. The vital warmth of her young hand
+lay in his. No care for her future troubled him just then.</p>
+
+<p>He chatted to Claud about the details of the mysterious assault. There
+seemed but one subject on which it was natural to converse, in the
+Combe, in those days.</p>
+
+<p>When they came to the bridge, he made the girl pass over its crazy
+planks before him, and jumped her from the top of the stile.</p>
+
+<p>As they neared the farm-house, a sound of loud crying, or rather
+roaring, greeted them; and when Mr. Fowler, with the privilege of old
+custom, walked into the house, and through to the kitchen, there lay
+Saul the idiot, his whole length stretched on the floor, his face purple
+with weeping, and kicking strenuously.</p>
+
+<p>Clara Battishill stood against the table, the color in her pretty little
+cheeks, her chest heaving as with recent encounter, her mien triumphant.</p>
+
+<p>"Saul Parker, hold your noise at once&mdash;get up off the flags&mdash;stand up, I
+say! What's all this about, eh?" said Mr. Fowler, in his even, unruffled
+tones.</p>
+
+<p>Saul left off howling directly, and, after taking a furtive look at the
+company, hid his tear-strained visage with a wriggle of anguish.</p>
+
+<p>Clara burst out in her shrill treble.</p>
+
+<p>"I've give him a taste of the stick, I have," said she, brandishing a
+stout ash twig, "for killing o' my turkey. He's a cruel boy, he is, and
+I'm very angry wi' him. He took an' threw great rocks over into the
+poultry-yard, and Miss Allonby, she was there wi' me, and he might ha'
+killed both of us; but 'stead o' that, he goes an' kills my best turkey
+I set such store by. I'll l'arn him to throw stones, I will! I's take
+an' tell me mother I won't have un abaout the place if he's going to
+take to throwing stones."</p>
+
+<p>"It won't do," said Mr. Fowler, lightly touching the recumbent Saul with
+his foot. "I always said it wouldn't do when the poor lad grew up. He's
+getting mischievous. Up, Saul!&mdash;up, my lad, now at once. You've had a
+beating, which you richly deserved. What made you so naughty, eh?"</p>
+
+<p>For answer the big lad raised himself on his hands and knees, crawled
+towards Clara, and flung his arms humbly about her knees, saying, in his
+imperfect way,</p>
+
+<p>"Poor! poor!"</p>
+
+<p>His castigator was melted at once. She took his beautiful head of golden
+curls between her hands, and patted it energetically.</p>
+
+<p>"There, you see, he don't mean anything; he's as good as gold all the
+time," she said. "But mind, you leave my birds a-be, Saul. If I ketch
+you in my poultry-yard, I'll give you such a licking! I will! So mind!"</p>
+
+<p>He began to whimper penitently. Lady Mabel looked sorrowfully at him.</p>
+
+<p>"Poor boy!" said she, "what an affliction! He ought to be put into an
+asylum."</p>
+
+<p>"Please, your ladyship, his mother won't part with him," said Clara;
+"and he never does no harm, not if you're kind to him. There, there,
+boy, don't cry. I've got some butter-milk for you in t' dairy."</p>
+
+<p>He began to smile through his tears, which he wiped away on her apron.
+Claud thought it the oddest group he had ever seen. The sight of the
+great fellow prone on the ground, meekly taking a beating from a girl
+half his size, was a mixture of the pathetic and the absurd. It half
+touched, half disgusted him. Suddenly a light step on the wooden stair
+made him turn.</p>
+
+<p>Wynifred stood in the doorway.</p>
+
+<p>"Oh,&mdash;Mr. Cranmer," she said, faltering somewhat at the presence of
+three strangers. "I beg your pardon, I thought you were alone. My
+brother would like to see you."</p>
+
+<p>"I'll come at once, but first of all you must let me introduce you to my
+sister."</p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<h2>CHAPTER XIV.</h2>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i12">"Till the lost sense of life returned again,<br /></span>
+<span class="i12">Not as delight, but as relief from pain."<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i24"><i>The Falcon of Sir Federigo.</i><br /></span>
+</div></div>
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+
+<p>Allonby's return to full consciousness had been a very gradual affair.
+Each lucid interval had been eagerly watched by Dr. Forbes, who feared
+the loss of memory, partial or entire, which often results from such
+brain attacks. Were the young man to forget&mdash;as it was entirely probable
+that he would&mdash;the circumstances immediately preceding his illness, the
+difficulty of Mr. Dickens' mission would be increased tenfold.</p>
+
+<p>When it became evident that the sick man recognised his sister, the
+excitement began to culminate. But hours went by, he slept, ate, awoke,
+and dozed again, quite tranquil, and apparently not at all solicitous as
+to how Wynifred came to be at his side, or where he was, or what was the
+reason of his illness.</p>
+
+<p>But at last, one afternoon, the "light of common day" broke in upon the
+calmness of his musings, and sent his mind tossing restlessly to and fro
+in all the tumult of newly aroused consciousness.</p>
+
+<p>He awoke from a delicious sleep with a sense of returning vigor in all
+his big limbs, and, essaying to throw out his left arm, behold! It was
+immovable.</p>
+
+<p>He held his breath, while he surveyed the bandaged limb, and all the
+glittering visions which had been the companion of his delirium came
+showering to earth in a torrent of shining fragments.</p>
+
+<p>Throughout his illness, the idea of the Island Valley of Avilion had
+never left him. No doubt the fact that his dominant idea had been a
+beautiful and a peaceful one had greatly served to help him through. His
+talk, when he rambled, had been all of "bowery willows crowned with
+summer sea," and of the rest of the exquisite imagery with which he had
+mentally surrounded Edge Combe in his holiday dreams. Now, the mirage of
+imaginary loveliness had fled. Like a flash it was gone, and only the
+commonplace daylight of every day remained.</p>
+
+<p>This sudden departure of the baseless fabric of his vision was by no
+means a novelty to Osmond. Often and often before he had had violently
+to recall his winged thoughts to earth: to set aside the sparkling
+beauties of the life he lived in fancy, in order to cope with the
+butcher's bills, the rates and taxes of the life he lived in reality.</p>
+
+<p>But this last dream had been passing sweet, and he thought it had lasted
+longer than was common with the airy things. It had rivetted itself in
+his mind, till he felt that he could close his eyes and commit it to
+canvas from memory alone. He could see the soft dim outline of the
+mythic barge, he could "hear the water lapping on the crags, and the
+long ripple washing in the reeds," and he could see, feature for
+feature, the face of the sorrowing queen. A young, lovely face, with the
+light of morning on it, but with anguish in the eyes, and sympathy of
+tears upon the cheeks.</p>
+
+<p>For a moment he closed his eyes to recall it all. Then he boldly opened
+them, to confront a world with which he felt too weak to cope.</p>
+
+<p>Not much of the said world was visible just then, and what there was
+seemed calculated to soothe and cheer. It was bounded by the four walls
+of a not very large room, the whitewash of whose ceiling was spotlessly
+white, the roses of whose wall paper were aggressively round and pink.
+To his right, a casement window hung wide open; and through it came the
+sighing of a summer wind rustling through elm-trees.</p>
+
+<p>Near this window stood the well-known figure of his sister Wynifred,
+stepping leisurely to and fro before the board on her sketching easel,
+to which she was transferring, in charcoal, some impression which was
+visible to her through the window.</p>
+
+<p>Her straight brows were pulled together so as to make a perpendicular
+furrow in the forehead between them; the soft scratching of her charcoal
+brought back to Osmond common-place memories of the Woodstead Art
+School, wherein he passed three days of every week as a master, when it
+was not vacation time.</p>
+
+<p>Wynifred and Wynifred's occupation were familiar enough. They let him
+know the folly of his dreaming; but there yet remained one puzzling
+thing. How came he to be lying there in bed, with a bandaged arm, in a
+room that was utterly strange to him?</p>
+
+<p>It was rather a remarkable room, too, when one came to study it
+attentively. It possessed a heavy door carved in black oak, which door
+was not set flat in the wall, but placed cross-ways across the
+corner&mdash;evidently a relic of great antiquity.</p>
+
+<p>The invalid pondered over that door with a curiosity which was somewhat
+strange, considering that the answer to his puzzle, in the shape of his
+sister, stood so close to him, and that he had only to ask to be
+enlightened.</p>
+
+<p>But it is to be supposed that there is something fascinating in
+suspense, or why do we so often turn over and over in our hands a letter
+the handwriting of which is unknown to us&mdash;exhausting ourselves in
+surmise as to who is our correspondent, when we have but to break the
+seal for the signature to stare us in the face? There is no saying how
+long Allonby might have amused himself with conjecture, for it was,
+truth to tell, a state of mind peculiarly congenial to him. He liked to
+feel that he did not know what was to happen next&mdash;to wait for an
+unexpected <i>d�nouement</i> of the situation. He had often, when exploring
+an unknown country, been guilty of the puerile device of sitting down by
+the roadside, just before a sharp bend in the road, or just below the
+summit of a high hill, while he pleased himself with guessing what would
+be likely to meet his eye when the corner was turned, or the hill-crest
+reached. So now he lay, speculating idly to himself, and by no means
+anxious to break the spell of silence by pronouncing his sister's name;
+when suddenly she looked up from her work, half absently, and, finding
+his eyes gravely fixed on her, flung down her charcoal, and came hastily
+to the bedside, wiping her fingers on her apron.</p>
+
+<p>"How are you, old man?" she said, meeting his inquiring look with one of
+frank kindliness. There was no trace of the burst of feeling with which
+she had told Dr. Forbes that her heart was soaring up to the evening
+star in the quiet heavens in gratitude and love. Evidently Miss Allonby
+kept her sentiment for rare occasions.</p>
+
+<p>"I believe I feel pretty well," said he, using his own voice in an
+experimented and tentative way. "But I feel rather muddled. I don't
+quite recall things. I think, if you were to tell me where I am, it
+would give me a leg up."</p>
+
+<p>"Take a spoonful of 'Brand' first," said Wyn; and, taking up a spoon,
+she proceeded to feed him. He ate readily enough; and philosophically
+said no more till she had turned his pillows and arranged his head in
+comfort; all of which she did both quietly and efficaciously, though in
+a manner all her own, and which would have revealed to the eye of an
+expert that she had been through no course of nursing lectures, nor
+known the interior of any hospital.</p>
+
+<p>"There!" she said at last, seating herself lightly on the edge of the
+bed. "Now I will tell you&mdash;you are in a place called Poole Farm. Does
+that help you?"</p>
+
+<p>"Poole Farm? Yes," he said, reflectively. "I was sketching near there.
+Did I have a fall? I have managed to smash myself somehow. How did I do
+it?"</p>
+
+<p>"Don't you remember?" asked Wyn, earnestly.</p>
+
+<p>He lifted his uninjured hand and passed it over his forehead. It came in
+contact with more bandages. He felt them speculatively.</p>
+
+<p>"Broken head, broken arm, broken rib," he remarked, drily. "Broken
+mainspring would almost have been more simple. How did it happen, now?
+How did it happen? I can't understand."</p>
+
+<p>"You were painting, in the lane by the wayside," said the girl,
+suggestively. "A picture with a warm key of color, and a little bit of
+the corner of the farm-house coming into it&mdash;evening sky&mdash;horizon line
+broken on the left by clump of ash-trees."</p>
+
+<p>"Yes, I know. I recollect that," he said. "I walked over from Edge Combe
+in rather a hot sun. I felt a little queer. But a sunstroke couldn't
+break one's bones, Wyn. I must have had a fall, eh?"</p>
+
+<p>"You fell from your camp-stool to the grass," she returned, "but that
+could hardly have hurt you to such an extent."</p>
+
+<p>He lay musing. At last,</p>
+
+<p>"I don't remember anything," he said, with a sigh. "I think the sun must
+have muddled my head. Tell me what happened."</p>
+
+<p>"My dear boy," cried she, "that is exactly what we want <i>you</i> to tell
+<i>us</i>!"</p>
+
+<p>"What! Don't you know?" he asked, with a sudden access of astonishment.</p>
+
+<p>"Nothing! Nobody knows anything except that you were found by the
+roadside, all in fragments. Ah! I can laugh now. But oh, Osmond! when
+they telegraphed to me first!"</p>
+
+<p>She leaned over him, and kissed his forehead.</p>
+
+<p>"My dear boy," she said, "I could eat you."</p>
+
+<p>He caught his breath with a weary sigh.</p>
+
+<p>"What's become of Hilda and Jac?" he asked.</p>
+
+<p>"Oh! they are all right&mdash;gone to the Hamertons at Ryde, and having a
+delightful holiday. Don't fret," she said, answering fast, and with an
+evident anxiety at the turn his inquiries were taking. But he would go
+on.</p>
+
+<p>"And how long have I been lying here?" he asked, grimly. "I suppose
+there are some good long bills running up, eh? Doctors not the least
+among them." A pair of very distinct furrows were visible on his
+forehead.</p>
+
+<p>"And that commission of Orton's," he sighed out.</p>
+
+<p>Wyn had slipped down to her knees by his bed, and now she took his hand
+and laid her cheek upon it.</p>
+
+<p>"Listen to me, old man," she said; "there is no need to fret, I've
+managed things for you. I wrote first thing to Mr. Orton, and he
+answered most kindly&mdash;his friend will be satisfied if the pictures are
+ready any time within six months, so do unpucker your forehead, please.
+As to expense, it won't be much. Mrs. Battishill is the most delightful
+person, but becomes impracticable directly the money question is
+broached. She says she never let her rooms to anybody in her life, and
+she isn't going to begin now. The room would be standing empty if you
+didn't have it, and you are just keeping it aired. As to linen, it all
+goes into her laundry: "She don't have to pay nothing for the washing of
+it, so why should we!" Ditto, ditto, with dairy produce. "It all cooms
+out of her dairy. It don't cost her nothing, and she can't put no price
+on it!" I have been allowed to pay for nothing but the fish and meat I
+have bought; and I don't apprehend that Dr. Forbes' bill will ruin us.
+There! That's a long explanation, but I must get the � s. d. out of your
+head, or we shall have no peace. I've kept my eyes open and managed
+everything. You are <i>not</i> to worry&mdash;mind!"</p>
+
+<p>He heaved a long breath of relief.</p>
+
+<p>"Bless you, Wyn!" he said. "But we must not be too indebted to these
+good folks, you know."</p>
+
+<p>"I know! I'll manage it! We must give them a present. They are really
+well-to-do, and don't want our money. Besides, they are, owing to us,
+the centre of attraction to the neighborhood. All Edge Combe is for ever
+making pilgrimages up here to know how you are faring. You are the hero
+of the hour."</p>
+
+<p>"And you can't tell me what it all means?" he asked, with corrugated
+brow.</p>
+
+<p>"I can tell you no more at present," she answered, rising as she spoke.
+"I must feed you again, and you shall rest an hour or two before you do
+any more talking, and, if you are disobedient, I shall send for Dr.
+Forbes."</p>
+
+<p>Whether Osmond found this threat very appalling, or whether what he had
+already heard supplied him with sufficient food for meditation, was a
+matter of doubt; but some cause or other kept him absolutely silent for
+some time; and Wyn, who had retired to her easel, the better to notify
+that conversation was suspended for the present, by-and-by saw his eyes
+close, and hoped that he was dozing again. So the afternoon wore on,
+till voices struck on her ear&mdash;voices of persons in eager conversation.
+They were floated to her through the open window, but came apparently
+from round the corner of the house, for she could not see the speakers
+when she looked out.</p>
+
+<p>As the sounds broke the stillness, Osmond's eyes opened wide.</p>
+
+<p>"Who is there?" he asked, hurriedly.</p>
+
+<p>"I don't know," said his sister, peering forth, "I hear Mr. Cranmer, but
+there is some one else."</p>
+
+<p>Then suddenly a little gush of laughter, high and clear, sailed in on
+the hot summer air, followed by the distinct notes of a girl's voice.</p>
+
+<p>"Saul! Saul! Get up, you stupid boy!"</p>
+
+<p>Osmond stirred again. He rolled right over in bed, and turned his eager
+face full to the window.</p>
+
+<p>"Wyn&mdash;who is it?" he asked, uneasily.</p>
+
+<p>"I'll go and see if you want to know."</p>
+
+<p>"Stay one minute&mdash;I want to hear&mdash;who found me by the wayside, as you
+say, in fragments?"</p>
+
+<p>"A young lady and her maid," was the reply, "She is a Miss Brabourne, I
+believe, and lives near here. She ran in search of help, and
+accidentally met a carriage containing two tourists&mdash;&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>"Brabourne? Isn't that the name of that horrible imp of a child who
+lives with the Ortons?"</p>
+
+<p>"Yes&mdash;I believe it is," said Wyn pausing. "<i>My nephew, the heir to a
+very large property</i>," she presently added, mimicking a masculine drawl,
+apparently with much success, for her brother laughed.</p>
+
+<p>"That's it," he said. "Well&mdash;but who is Mr. Cranmer?"</p>
+
+<p>Wynifred now became eloquent.</p>
+
+<p>She told him all that Claud had done&mdash;his kindness, his interest, his
+unwearying attention, his laying aside all plans for the better
+examination of the mystery.</p>
+
+<p>Of course she greatly exaggerated both Mr. Cranmer's sacrifice and his
+philanthropy. He had been interested, that was all. It had amused him to
+find himself suddenly living and moving in the heart of a murderous
+drama, such as is dished up for us by energetic contributors to the
+sensational fiction of the day. Vol. I. had promised exceedingly well:
+Vol. II. seemed likely to be disappointing. In all the "shilling
+horrors," though of course the detective does not stumble on the right
+clue till page two hundred and fifty is reached, still he contrives to
+be erratic and interesting through all the intermediate chapters, by
+dint of fragments of a letter, the dark hints of an aged domestic, the
+unwarranted appearance of a mysterious stranger, or the revelations of a
+delirious criminal.</p>
+
+<p>Since Allonby had burned the sole letter which could have been of any
+importance, and in his delirium talked only of a place and persons alike
+mythical and useless, it really seemed as if the story must stop short
+for want of incident. Mr. Dickens had all but succeeded in persuading
+Claud that they had to deal with a modern English <i>vendetta</i>&mdash;a thing of
+all others to be revelled in and enjoyed in these days when the
+incongruous is the interesting.</p>
+
+<p>Our jaded palates turn from the mysteries of Udolpho, where all was in
+keeping, where murders were perpetrated in donjon keeps, ghosts were
+fitly provided with arras as a place to retire to between the acts, and
+medi�val knights and ladies were to the full as improbable as the deeds
+and motives assigned to them. Now something more piquant must be
+provided, above all something <i>realistic</i>. Mr. Radcliffe and Horace
+Walpole are relegated to the land of dreams and shadows; give us
+<i>vraisemblance</i> to whet our blunted susceptibilities. Let us have mystic
+ladies, glittering gems, yawning caverns, magic spells; but place the
+nineteenth century Briton, chimney-pot hat and all, in the centre of
+these weird surroundings. Make him your hero; jumble up what is with
+what could never have been, and the first critics in English literature
+shall rise up and call you blessed! They thought themselves dead for
+ever to the voice of the charmer: you have given them the luxury of a
+new sensation; what do you not deserve of your generation? Join the
+hands of the modern English nobleman and the mythical African
+princess&mdash;link together the latest development of Yankeeism and dollars
+with the grim tragedy of the Corsican bandit&mdash;your fortune is made; you
+are absolutely incongruous; you have out-Radcliffed Radcliffe. She gave
+us the improbable; to you we turn for the absurd.</p>
+
+<p>That Allonby was going to miss such an opportunity as this was, to the
+mind of Mr. Dickens, a <i>b�tise</i> too gross to be contemplated. He had
+already caused the local newspapers to bristle with dark hints. He
+awaited, in a state of feverish suspense, the waking of the lion.</p>
+
+<p>Could he have seen that lion's unfurrowed brow and unenlightened
+expression, his heart would have sunk within him.</p>
+
+<p>As to Claud, the upshot of it all would not materially affect him,
+whichever way it turned. After all his personal taste for melodrama was
+only skin-deep. He preferred what was interesting to what was thrilling.
+He had taken a liking to the unconscious victim; he was struck with the
+loveliness of the Devonshire valley; the weather was fine; he had
+nothing else to do; and that was the sum of all. Considerably would he
+have marvelled, could he have heard Wynifred's description of his
+conduct as it appeared to her. Nobody that he knew of had ever thought
+him a hero; neither did any of his relations hold self-sacrifice to be
+in general the guiding motive of his conduct.</p>
+
+<p>When Miss Allonby, after instilling her own view of his actions into her
+brother's willing ear, slipped off her apron, hung it over the back of a
+chair, and went to summon this good genius to receive the thanks she
+considered so justly his due, he was totally unprepared for what was to
+come.</p>
+
+<p>To have his hand seized in the languid, bony grip of the sick man, to
+see his fine dark grey eyes humid with feeling, to hear faltering thanks
+for "such amazing kindness from an utter stranger," these things greatly
+embarrassed the ordinarily assured Claud.</p>
+
+<p>He jerked his eye-glass from his eye in a good deal of confusion, he
+pulled the left hand corner of his neat little moustache, he absolutely
+felt himself blushing, as he blurted out a somewhat vindictive
+declaration that,</p>
+
+<p>"Miss Allonby must have given a very highly-colored version of the part
+he had taken in the affair."</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, of course you would disclaim," said Allonby, with an approving
+smile. "That's only natural. But I hope some day the time may come when
+I shall have a chance to do you a kindness; it doesn't sound likely, but
+one never knows."</p>
+
+<p>"But this is intolerable," cried Claud, fuming, "I haven't been kind&mdash;I
+tell you I haven't! I have been merely lazy and more than a trifle
+inquisitive! I won't be misrepresented, it isn't fair!"</p>
+
+<p>"Could some fay the giftie gie us," said Wyn, smiling softly at him
+across the bed.</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, well," said the young man, with a sudden softening of voice and
+manner, "it's not often that others see me in the light that you two
+appear to have agreed upon. I don't see why I am to disclaim it. It's
+erroneous, of course; but rather unpleasant on the whole; and, after
+all, we never do judge one another justly. If you didn't think me better
+than I am, you might think me worse; so I'll say no more."</p>
+
+<p>"Better not, it would be labor lost," said Wyn, seriously. "When we
+Allonbys say a thing, we stick to it."</p>
+
+<p>"Do you?" said he, with an intonation of eager interest, as if he had
+never before heard such a characteristic in any family.</p>
+
+<p>The girl nodded, but turned away, and beckoned to him not to talk any
+more.</p>
+
+<p>"We must leave him a little," she said, gently. "Dr. Forbes will soon be
+here, and I don't want him to think him unduly excited."</p>
+
+<p>"Wyn," said Osmond, as his sister and the Honorable Claud reached the
+door, "is Miss Brabourne downstairs?"</p>
+
+<p>"Yes."</p>
+
+<p>"It was she who found me by the roadside?"</p>
+
+<p>"Yes."</p>
+
+<p>"Ah!" He said no more, but turned his face to the window and lay still,
+with his poetic and prominent chin raised a little. It was impossible to
+guess at his musings.</p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<h2>CHAPTER XV.</h2>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i12">Since you have praised my hair,<br /></span>
+<span class="i12">'Tis proper to be choice in what I wear.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i24"><i>In a Gondola.</i><br /></span>
+</div></div>
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+
+<p>When Miss Allonby and Mr. Cranmer emerged into the garden, they found a
+pleasing group awaiting their arrival.</p>
+
+<p>Lady Mabel was sitting in a wicker chair, her gloves were removed, and
+lay rolled up in her lap, her firm white hands were employed with
+tea-cups and cream jug.</p>
+
+<p>On the grass near sat Elsa, her hat off, her eyes dilated with wonder
+and enjoyment. Mr. Fowler stood near her ladyship, cutting
+bread-and-butter.</p>
+
+<p>"Come along, Claud," she cried, as they appeared. "That good Mrs.
+Battishill provides an <i>al fresco</i> tea for us! Sit down and take the
+gifts the gods provide you. Did you ever see such a view?"</p>
+
+<p>"Never," said Claud, with conviction. "Of all the lovely bits of rural
+England, I do think this is the loveliest. What makes its charm so
+peculiar is that it's unique. Half a mile along the high-road either
+towards Philmouth or Stanton, you would never guess at the existence of
+such an out-of-the-way spot of beauty. It really does remind one of what
+your brother called it," he went on, turning to Wynifred, "The 'Island
+Valley of Avilion.'"</p>
+
+<p>"That's in Tennyson, I think," said Mr. Fowler. "I am ashamed to say how
+little poetry I read; we are behind the times here in the Combe, I'm
+afraid&mdash;eh, Elsie?"</p>
+
+<p>"I don't know," said the monosyllabic beauty, confused.</p>
+
+<p>Her large eyes were resting on Miss Allonby, drinking her in as she had
+drunk in Lady Mabel. They were not alike, most assuredly, yet from
+Elaine's standpoint there was a similarity. Both of them were evidently
+at ease. Each knew how to sit in her chair, what to do with her hands,
+and, above all, what to say.</p>
+
+<p>When her aunts received company they were excited, disordered. They ran
+here and there, for this and that&mdash;they fidgetted, they were flurried.</p>
+
+<p>Wynifred Allonby looked as if she did not know what to be flurried
+meant.</p>
+
+<p>She wore the simplest of grey linen gowns, with an antique silver buckle
+at her waist. Into her belt she had fastened three or four of the big
+dark red carnations which grew in profusion in the farm-house garden,
+and were just beginning to blossom. She was in the presence of an earl's
+sister, whom she had never seen before, yet her calm was unruffled, and
+her manner perfectly quiet. In Elsa's untutored eyes, this was
+inimitable.</p>
+
+<p>Though she herself had now met Mr. Cranmer several times, yet she found
+herself blushing more and more every time she met his eye. Consciousness
+was awake&mdash;her quick feminine eye told her that her clothes did not
+resemble those of either of the women beside her.</p>
+
+<p>Both were most simply attired, for it was the whim of Lady Mabel, when
+in the country, to wear short woollen skirts, leaving visible her
+shapely ankles, and otherwise to cast away the conventions of Bond
+Street by the use of wash-leather gloves and a stout walking stick.
+To-day, under a short covert coat of dark blue cloth, she wore a loose
+scarlet shirt, the effect of which was coquettish and telling. Her
+well-looped skirts were also of dark blue, and there was a rough and
+ready suitableness to the occasion about her which was most effective.
+The poor little watching, unfledged Elsa felt a soreness, an intolerable
+jealousy. Why was she so unlike others? Why could she not have different
+gowns? She almost thought she could sit and talk as easily as Miss
+Allonby, if only her dress fitted, and she could wear buckles on her
+shoes.</p>
+
+<p>There was Mr. Fowler, who had always been her own especial property, her
+godfather, the one human being who had ever dared to say, "Let the child
+have a holiday." "Let the child stay up another hour this evening."
+There he was, talking to Miss Allonby in his gentle way, looking at her
+with his honest eyes, laying himself out to entertain her, and not so
+much as throwing a glance at his forlorn Elsa.</p>
+
+<p>Nobody knew what purely feminine sorrows were vexing the young heart.</p>
+
+<p>Lady Mabel was in a frame of mind inclined to be very regretful. She,
+like her brother, had taken a vehement fancy to Edge Combe, and she knew
+she must leave it, and return to London. She wanted to make the most of
+these sunshiny, peaceful hours, these interesting people, this lovely
+landscape.</p>
+
+<p>Her fine eyes gazed down the valley, at the mysterious deeps below them,
+thick with foliage, and the deep glowing sea which formed the horizon.</p>
+
+<p>"What a color that ocean is!" she said. "Do look, Claud, it's quite
+tropical!"</p>
+
+<p>Mrs. Battishill was placing a big dish of clotted cream on the table.</p>
+
+<p>"Eh, for all the world like a great basin of hot starch, isn't it? I've
+often thought so," said she, good-humoredly.</p>
+
+<p>Her prompt exit into the farm-house allowed the smiles to broaden at
+will on the countenances of four of her five auditors.</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, Mab," said Claud, with tears in his eyes, "what a slap in the face
+for your sentiment!"</p>
+
+<p>"I'm not sure that it's not a very apt illustration," cried Wyn, when
+she could speak. "It is really just the same color, and the dip of the
+valley holds it like a basin! Imaginative Mrs. Battishill!"</p>
+
+<p>"You draw, I think, Miss Allonby?" said Mr. Fowler.</p>
+
+<p>"Yes, I am very fond of it," she answered.</p>
+
+<p>"You will be able to do some sketching, now that your mind is at ease
+about your brother."</p>
+
+<p>"Yes; but I am a poor hand at landscape. That is Osmond's province. I
+prefer heads. I should like," she paused, and fixed her eyes on Elsa, "I
+should like to paint Miss Brabourne."</p>
+
+<p>Elsa started as if she had been shot. Up rushed the ungoverned color to
+face, throat, and neck. She could not believe the hearing of her ears.</p>
+
+<p>"To paint me?" she cried. The water swam in her glorious eyes. "Are you
+making game of me?" she passionately asked.</p>
+
+<p>"Making game of you? No!" said Wyn, in some surprise. "I am very
+sorry&mdash;I beg your pardon&mdash;I am afraid I have distressed you."</p>
+
+<p>Lady Mabel reached out her hand towards the girl as she sat on the
+grass; and, placing it under her chin, turned up the flashing,
+quivering, carmine face and smiled into the eyes.</p>
+
+<p>"Should you dislike to sit for your portrait, Elsa?"</p>
+
+<p>"I don't know&mdash;I never tried&mdash;I know nothing about it!" cried she,
+enduring the touch, as it seemed, with difficulty, and ready to shrink
+back into herself.</p>
+
+<p>"You would try to sit still, if it would be a help to Miss Allonby, I am
+sure?"</p>
+
+<p>"I don't think she means it," cried the tortured Elsa, with a sob.</p>
+
+<p>"I meant it, of course," said Wynifred, very sorry to have been so
+unintentionally distressing. "But I am ashamed of having asked so much.
+Sitting is very tedious, and takes up a great deal of time."</p>
+
+<p>"I should be very anxious to see what you would make of her," said Mr.
+Fowler, with interest. "Elsa, little woman, you must see if you can't
+keep still, if Miss Allonby is so kind as to take so much trouble about
+you."</p>
+
+<p>"Trouble! It would be both pleasure and education," said Wyn, with a
+smile; "she will make a delicious study, if&mdash;&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>"If?" said Lady Mabel, turning swiftly as she hesitated.</p>
+
+<p>"If I might do her hair," said Wyn, laughing, and throwing a look of
+such arch and friendly confidence towards Elaine that the shy girl
+smiled back at her with a sudden glow.</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, you may do as you like with my hair, if the aunts will only let me
+sit to you!" she said, with eager change of feeling.</p>
+
+<p>"Leave the aunts to me, Elsie&mdash;I'll manage them," said Mr. Fowler,
+reassuringly.</p>
+
+<p>"To think that I must go home and lose all this interest and enjoyment,"
+cried Lady Mabel, in some feigned, and a good deal of real regret.</p>
+
+<p>"Why need you go, Mab?" asked Claud.</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, my dear boy, I must! Edward is coming down to fetch me, and there
+are my darlings to see after. My holiday is over. But I shall comfort
+myself with hoping to have Elsa to stay with me when I am settled.
+Edward writes me word that we shall be obliged to have a house in town
+this winter&mdash;my husband has been so ill-advised as to get into
+Parliament," explained she to Mr. Fowler.</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, yes; I remember hearing very gladly of his success," was the
+cordial response. "Also that his electioneering was most ably assisted
+by Lady Mabel Wynch-Fr�re, who was received with an ovation whenever she
+appeared in public."</p>
+
+<p>He was bending over her as he spoke, handing her the strawberries, and
+she smiled up at him with sudden passion of Irish eyes.</p>
+
+<p>"Any effort in the good cause," she said, with fervency.</p>
+
+<p>"Exactly, in the good cause," he responded. "You may speak out&mdash;we are
+all friends here."</p>
+
+<p>"How do you know?" asked Claud. "You don't suppose I sympathize with
+Mab's political delusions, do you? A younger son must be a Radical, as
+far as I can see. The idea of plunder is the only idea likely to appeal
+to his feelings with any force."</p>
+
+<p>Mr. Fowler laughed pleasantly.</p>
+
+<p>"You put me in a difficulty," said he. "I was going to try to persuade
+you to come and take up your quarters in my bachelor diggings in the
+Lower House for awhile and try my shooting; but if you are going to vote
+against the government&mdash;&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>"You'll have to drive me out of the Lower House&mdash;stop my mouth with a
+peerage, eh?" cried Claud.</p>
+
+<p>"Miss Allonby doesn't see the joke," said Mr. Fowler; "my dwelling is
+called the Lower House," he proceeded to explain, "receiving that title
+merely because it happens to be further down the valley than Edge
+Willoughby."</p>
+
+<p>"I see," said the girl, laughing. "Well! as a representative of law and
+order, I'm shocked to hear you advocating shooting, Mr. Fowler!"</p>
+
+<p>"To an Irishman, eh? Yes, it's risky, I own. But what say you, Mr.
+Cranmer, seriously? Come and try my covers?"</p>
+
+<p>It was exactly the invitation Claud wanted. He had no compunction in
+becoming the guest of a well-to-do bachelor, whose birds were probably
+pining to be killed; and it would keep him in this lovely part of the
+country, and within reach of Allonby and his mystery, not to mention
+Elsa Brabourne.</p>
+
+<p>His face lighted up with pleasure.</p>
+
+<p>"But&mdash;&mdash;" he began.</p>
+
+<p>"But it's not the 12th, yet&mdash;no, you're right. I can offer you a
+trout-stream to begin with, and a horse if you care about riding. If you
+are bored, you can run up to town, and come down again for the
+shooting."</p>
+
+<p>"I shan't be bored," said Claud.</p>
+
+<p>In point of fact, the whole thing promised most favorably.</p>
+
+<p>A visit to a house with no mistress&mdash;where doubtless you might smoke in
+your bed-room, and need never exert yourself to get off the sofa, or put
+on a decent coat, or make yourself entertaining, or go to church twice
+on Sundays.</p>
+
+<p>His bachelor soul rejoiced.</p>
+
+<p>All this, with the ladies within reach if by chance he wanted them or
+their society, why, it was the acme of luxury!</p>
+
+<p>"I was wondering how you were going to begin shooting so soon," said
+Lady Mabel; "but I assure you, Claud will be perfectly happy if only you
+let him loaf about and dream by himself. He likes a contemplative
+existence."</p>
+
+<p>"Yes," said Claud, modestly and even cheerfully accepting this
+description of himself. "I like leisure to congratulate myself that I
+have none of the vices, and few of the failings, of my fellow-creatures
+in this imperfect world."</p>
+
+<p>"<i>Few</i> of the failings&mdash;have you <i>any</i>?" asked Miss Allonby, with
+innocent surprise, holding a strawberry ready poised for devouring. "Do
+you really admit so much? I am curious to know to what human weakness
+you are free to confess?"</p>
+
+<p>"Would you really like to know? Well&mdash;it is a very interesting subject
+to me, so doubtless it must be interesting to other people," said Claud,
+in his debonair way. "Know, then, that I have a fault. Yes, I know it,
+self-deception was never a vice of mine; I see clearly that I am not
+without a defect; and I deeply fear that time will not eradicate it,
+though haply indigestion may do so. This weakness is&mdash;strawberries." He
+heaved a deep sigh, and helped himself to his fourth plateful with
+melancholy brow.</p>
+
+<p>"Only one consolation have I," he went on, placing a thick lump of cream
+on the fruit. "It is that the period of degradation is transient. A few
+short weeks in each year, and I recover my self-respect until next June.
+Peaches smile on me in vain, dusky grapes besiege my constancy. My
+friends tempt me with pine-apples, and wave netted melons before my
+dazzled vision; but I remain temperate. Strawberries are my one
+vulnerable point; which, being the case, I know you'll excuse my further
+conversation."</p>
+
+<p>"Say no more," said Wyn, in solemn accents. "A confidence so touching
+will be respected by all."</p>
+
+<p>"Ah! sympathy is very sweet," sighed he. "Have you a failing, by chance,
+Miss Allonby?"</p>
+
+<p>"I am sure I do not know," she answered, with great appearance of
+reflective candor. "My self-knowledge is evidently not so complete as
+yours. If I were conscious of one, I fear I should not have your courage
+to avow it; perhaps because my defect would most likely be chronic, and
+not a mere passing weakness like yours."</p>
+
+<p>During this passage, Lady Mabel had been abundantly occupied in studying
+Elsa's face. Its expression of incredulity and dismay was strange to
+behold. That, two grown-up persons should deliberately set to work to
+talk the greatest nonsense that occurred to them at the moment had never
+struck her as in any way a possibility. What made them do it? Were they
+in earnest? Their faces were as grave as judges, but Mr. Fowler was
+laughing. She hoped that nobody would ever speak to her like that, and
+expect her to reply in the same vein. It overwhelmed, it oppressed her.
+Involuntarily she drew near Lady Mabel, and shrank almost behind her, as
+if for protection from the two who were, like Cicero, speaking Greek.</p>
+
+<p>Lady Mabel amused herself in thinking what Miss Charlotte Willoughby's
+verdict would have been, had she been present.</p>
+
+<p>"I am sure you both have a pretty good opinion of yourselves," she might
+have remarked, or more probably still, "Strawberries are wholesome
+enough when eaten in moderation, but I am sure such excessive indulgence
+must be bad for anybody."</p>
+
+<p>"I don't wonder," said Mr. Fowler, with sly playfulness, "that Miss
+Allonby is unwilling to follow Mr. Cranmer's fearless example, and
+proclaim herself uninteresting for eleven months out of twelve."</p>
+
+<p>"Uninteresting!" cried Claud.</p>
+
+<p>"What so uninteresting as perfection? I am glad I first made your
+acquaintance when you were under the influence of your one defect. I
+doubt I shouldn't have invited you to Lower House if I had met you a
+month later."</p>
+
+<p>"Ah! you have invited me now, and you must hold to it," cried Claud, in
+triumph; "but, as I must admit I have deceived you, and owe you
+reparation, why&mdash;to oblige you&mdash;I will try to hatch up a special defect
+for August."</p>
+
+<p>"I don't think you'll find it very difficult, dear boy," said Lady
+Mabel, sweetly.</p>
+
+<p>"Difficult to make myself interesting? No, Mab, that has always come
+easily to me; you and I were never considered much alike," was the
+impudent answer.</p>
+
+<p>"His desire to have the last word is really quite&mdash;lady-like, isn't it?"
+said his sister to Mr. Fowler; and all four burst out laughing. "Claud,
+I am ashamed of you&mdash;get up and put down those strawberries. Here is
+Elsa looking at you in horror and amazement! Do mind your manners."</p>
+
+<p>"As I have devoured my last mouthful, I obey at once. I am like the
+ancient mariner after telling his story. The feverish desire for
+strawberries has passed from me for a while. I become rational once
+more."</p>
+
+<p>"Such moments are rare; let us make the most of them," retorted she,
+"and tell me seriously what your plans are."</p>
+
+<p>"If you'll allow me, I'll walk back with you and Miss Brabourne, and
+expound them on the way. Oh, look, Mr. Fowler, there's that ass Dickens;
+I must go and speak to him a minute, and tell him we're more in the dark
+than ever."</p>
+
+<p>He rose hurriedly, his nonsense disappearing at once, and went down to
+the gate, followed by Henry Fowler.</p>
+
+<p>"We can never be grateful enough to your brother, Lady Mabel," said Wyn,
+gently, when they were out of hearing.</p>
+
+<p>"I am sure he is only too pleased to have had a chance of being of use.
+He is as kind a fellow as ever breathed, and hardly ever does himself
+justice," said Claud's sister, warmly. "He is a real comfort to me, and
+always has been; so thoughtful and considerate, and never fusses about
+anything."</p>
+
+<p>"No, he does everything so simply, and as if it were all in the day's
+work," said Wynifred, as if absently. "It is the kind of nature which
+would composedly perform an act of wild heroism, and then wonder what
+all the applause was for."</p>
+
+<p>Lady Mabel looked swiftly at the speaker. It seemed to her that it was
+the most un-girlish comment on a young man that she had ever heard.
+Perhaps the strangeness of it lay more in manner than in words. Wynifred
+leaned one elbow on the table, her chin rested in her hand; her pale
+face and tranquil eyes studied Mr. Cranmer, as he stood pulling the gate
+to and fro, and eagerly talking to the detective. Her expression was
+that of cool, critical attention. Something in Lady Mabel's surprised
+silence seemed to strike on her sensitive nerves. She looked hurriedly
+up, and colored warmly.</p>
+
+<p>"I beg your pardon," she said, confusedly, "I am afraid I am
+blundering" ... and then broke short off, and pushed back her chair from
+the table. "We have a bad habit at home," she said, "of studying real
+people as if they were characters in fiction; but we don't, as a rule,
+forget ourselves so far as to discuss them with their own relations."</p>
+
+<p>Lady Mabel smiled; it was a pretty and an adequate apology. She thought
+Miss Allonby an interesting girl, and was inspired with a desire to see
+more of her.</p>
+
+<p>"You must come and see me when I am settled in London, Miss Allonby,"
+she said, kindly, "I should like to know your sisters."</p>
+
+<p>"I should like you to know them," was the eager response. "Osmond and I
+are very proud of them."</p>
+
+<p>"They are both younger than you?"</p>
+
+<p>"Yes; Hilda is three years younger, and Jacqueline four. There is only
+just a year between them."</p>
+
+<p>"And you are orphans?"</p>
+
+<p>"Yes."</p>
+
+<p>At this moment Claud approached.</p>
+
+<p>"Miss Allonby," he said, "I wonder if you would get your brother's
+permission for Mr. Dickens to rifle the things he left behind him at the
+'Fountain Head'with Mrs. Clapp?"</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, certainly, I am sure he would have no objection. Perhaps I had
+better come myself," said Wynifred. "I have been wanting to fetch up
+some paints."</p>
+
+<p>"It would be far the best plan," said Claud, with alacrity. "I am going
+to walk down with my sister and Miss Brabourne. Will you come to? I will
+see you safely home again."</p>
+
+<p>"You are very kind," she answered, simply. "I will go and tell Osmond,
+and see whether nurse has given him his tea."</p>
+
+<p>"We shall have to set out soon," said Lady Mabel, "or we shall be late
+for tea at Edge Willoughby."</p>
+
+<p>"The amount of meals one can get through in this climate!" observed
+Claud, pensively. "Why, you have this moment finished one tea, Mab,&mdash;I'm
+ashamed of you! Mr. Fowler, how many meals a day am I to have at the
+Lower House?"</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, I think I can promise you as many as you can eat, without taxing my
+cook or my larder too far. We are used to appetites here."</p>
+
+<p>"A fellow-feeling makes us wondrous kind," mused Mr. Cranmer. "The fact
+that King Henry died of a surfeit used to impress me, I remember, with
+an unfavorable view of that monarch's character. But"&mdash;he heaved a sigh,
+and, with a side-glance of fun at Elsa, took another strawberry&mdash;"<i>nous
+avons chang� tout cela</i>! <i>Vive</i> Devonshire and the Devon air!"</p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<h2>CHAPTER XVI.</h2>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i12">We read, or talked, or quarrelled, as it chanced.<br /></span>
+<span class="i12">We were not lovers, nor even friends well-matched:<br /></span>
+<span class="i12">Say rather, scholars upon different tracks,<br /></span>
+<span class="i12">Or thinkers disagreed.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i24"><span class="smcap">Aurora Leigh.</span><br /></span>
+</div></div>
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+
+<p>With his usual forethought, Mr. Cranmer had made out in his own mind a
+plan of the coming walk. He meant to walk from Poole to Edge with Elsa
+Brabourne, the anachronism, and return from Edge to Poole with Wynifred
+Allonby, one of the latest developments of her century.</p>
+
+<p>He felt that there must needs be a piquancy about the contrast which the
+dialogue in these two walks would necessarily present. No doubt one
+great cause of his happy, contented nature was this faculty for amusing
+himself, and at once becoming interested in whatever turned up.</p>
+
+<p>It is scarcely a common quality among the English upper classes, who
+mostly seem to expect that the mountain will come to Mahomet as a
+matter of course, and so remain "orbed in their isolation," and, as a
+natural consequence, not very well entertained by life in general. It
+was this trait in Claud which drew him and his eccentric sister
+together. She was every bit as ready as he to explore all the obscure
+social developments of her day. Anything approaching eccentricity was a
+passport to her favor, as to his; and these valley people had taken
+strong hold on the fancy of both.</p>
+
+<p>He was standing just outside the door, when Wynifred came down ready for
+her walk, and he noted approvingly that the London girl was equipped for
+country walking in the matter of thick shoes, stout stick, and shady
+hat. On the shoes he bestowed a special mental note of approval. Lady
+Mabel had once said that she believed the first thing Claud noticed in a
+woman was her feet. Miss Allonby was intensely unconscious that her own
+were at this moment passing the ordeal of judgment from such a critic,
+and passing it favorably.</p>
+
+<p>"Osmond is very quiet and comfortable, and nurse thinks I can well be
+spared," she announced.</p>
+
+<p>"I must reluctantly bid you all good-bye for the present," said Mr.
+Fowler, regretfully. "I am obliged to go on to visit a farm up this way.
+I wish you a pleasant walk."</p>
+
+<p>He raised his hat with a smile, and stood watching as they started. Lady
+Mabel, urged on by her active disposition, went first, and Wynifred went
+with her. Claud dropped behind with Elaine, and this was the order of
+the march all the way to the village. Mr. Cranmer was resolved to make
+Elsa talk, and he began accordingly with the firm determination that
+nothing should baulk him, and that he would not be discouraged by
+monosyllables. It was well that this resolution was strong, for it was
+severely tried.</p>
+
+<p>The first subject he essayed was the beauty of the scenery, and the joy
+of living in the midst of such a fine landscape. He could have waxed
+eloquent on this theme, and shown his listener how much happier are the
+dwellers in rural seclusion than they who exist in towns, and how it
+really is a fact that the dispositions of those born among mountains are
+freer and nobler than those of denizens of flat ground&mdash;with much more
+of the same kind. But he soon became aware that he spoke to deaf ears.
+The girl beside him was not interested: he could not even keep her
+attention. Her feet lagged, her head seemed constantly turning, without
+her volition, back towards the direction of Poole Farm.</p>
+
+<p>"But perhaps you don't share my enthusiasm for the country?" he broke
+off suddenly, with great politeness.</p>
+
+<p>Elsa grew red, stretched out her hand for a tendril from the hedge, and
+answered, confusedly:</p>
+
+<p>"I hate living in the country!"</p>
+
+<p>There was a note in her young voice of a defiance compelled hitherto to
+be mute, and consequently of surprising force. The very fact of having
+broken silence at last seemed to give her courage; after a minute's
+excited pause, she went on:</p>
+
+<p>"I want people&mdash;I want companions. I want to be in a great city, all
+full of life! I want to hear people talk, and know what they think, and
+find out all about them. Do you know that I have never met a girl in my
+life till I saw Miss Allonby! And&mdash;and&mdash;" with voice choked with
+shame&mdash;"I am afraid to speak to her. I don't know what to say. I should
+show her my ignorance directly. Oh, you can't think how ignorant I am! I
+know nothing&mdash;absolutely nothing. And I do so long to."</p>
+
+<p>"Knowledge comes fast enough," said Claud, impetuously. "You will
+know&mdash;soon enough. Don't fret about that. In these days you cannot think
+what a rest it is to find anyone so fresh, so unspoiled&mdash;so&mdash;so
+ingenuous as yourself, Miss Brabourne! You must forgive my venturing to
+say so much. But, if you only knew what a power is yours by the very
+force of the seclusion you have lived in, you would be overwhelmed with
+gratitude to these wonderful ladies who have made you what you are!"</p>
+
+<p>"Then," said Elaine, shyly, stealing a wary glance at him, "you <i>do</i> see
+that I am very unlike any girl you ever met?"</p>
+
+<p>Claud laughed a little, and hesitated.</p>
+
+<p>"Yes, you are&mdash;in your bringing up, I tell you frankly," he said. "As
+regards your disposition, I don't know enough to venture on an opinion."</p>
+
+<p>They walked on a few minutes in silence, and then she said:</p>
+
+<p>"Tell me about London, please."</p>
+
+<p>He complied at once, but soon found out that it was not theatrical
+London, nor artistic London, nor the London of balls and receptions
+which claimed her attention, but the world of music, which to her was
+like the closed gates of Paradise to the Peri.</p>
+
+<p>When he described the Albert Hall, and the Popular Concerts, she drank
+in every word. It was enchanting to have so good a listener, and he
+talked on upon the same theme until the village was reached, when his
+sister faced round, and said that Miss Allonby wished to stop at the
+"Fountain Head," but she and Elsa must hasten on, so as not to be late
+for the Misses Willoughby's tea-time.</p>
+
+<p>It was accordingly settled that Claud should walk up with them as far as
+the gate of Edge and return to fetch Wynifred in half-an-hour. On his
+way back he called at the postman's cottage to see if there were any
+letters for Poole Farm. They put two or three into his hands, and also a
+packet which surprised him. It was addressed to Miss Allonby, and
+obviously contained printer's proofs.</p>
+
+<p>He stared at it. A big fat bundle, with "Randall and Sons, Printers,
+Reading, Llandaff, and London," stamped on a dark blue ground at the top
+left-hand corner.</p>
+
+<p>"So she writes, among other things, does she?" said he, speculatively,
+as he turned the packet over and over. "What does the modern young lady
+not do, I wonder? what sort of literature? Fiction, I'll bet a
+sovereign, unless it is an essay on extending the sphere of feminine
+usefulness, or on the doctrine of the enclitic De, or on First Aid to
+the Sick and Wounded. Strange! How the male mind does thirst after
+novelty! I declare nowadays it is exquisitely refreshing to find a girl
+like Miss Brabourne, who has never been to an ambulance lecture, nor
+written a novel, nor even exhibited a china plaque at Howell and
+James'!"</p>
+
+<p>For Claud had that instinctive admiration for "intelligent ignorance" in
+a woman which seems to be one of the most rooted inclinations of the
+male mind. Theoretically, he hated ignorant woman; practically, there
+were times when he loved to talk to them.</p>
+
+<p>Wynifred was seated in the porch of the inn, talking to Mrs. Clapp, when
+he came up. The subject of conversation was, needless to relate, the
+missing pudding-basin.</p>
+
+<p>"When we find that, miss, the murder'll be aout," was the good lady's
+opinion.</p>
+
+<p>Claud thought so too.</p>
+
+<p>"First catch your hare," he murmured, as he paused at the door. "Have I
+kept you waiting, Miss Allonby?"</p>
+
+<p>"Scarcely a minute," she answered, rising, and nodding a "good evening"
+to Mrs. Clapp.</p>
+
+<p>"I called in at the postman's," he said, as they turned homewards, "and
+have brought you this, as the result of my enterprise."</p>
+
+<p>He produced the packet of proofs, with his eyes fixed on her. Her face
+did not change in the least.</p>
+
+<p>"Thanks," she said, "but what a heavy packet for you to carry&mdash;let me
+relieve you of it."</p>
+
+<p>"Certainly not; it goes easily in my pocket;" and he replaced it with a
+curious sense of being baffled. Should he leave the subject, or should
+he take the bull by the horns and tax her with it? It might be merely a
+sense of shyness which made her unwilling to talk of her writings.</p>
+
+<p>"I did not know you were an authoress, Miss Allonby," he said.</p>
+
+<p>"No? I have not written very much," she answered, frankly.</p>
+
+<p>"May I venture to ask what you write? Is it novels?" he asked,
+tentatively.</p>
+
+<p>"It is singular, not plural, at present," she answered, laughing. "I
+have published a novel, and hope soon to bring out another."</p>
+
+<p>"You seem to be a universal genius," he observed.</p>
+
+<p>"That is the kind of speech I never know how to reply to," said
+Wynifred. "I can't demonstrate that you are wrong&mdash;I can only protest:
+and I do hate protesting."</p>
+
+<p>"I am very sorry&mdash;I didn't know what to say," apologised he, lamely.</p>
+
+<p>"Then why did you introduce the subject?" she answered, lightly. "You
+can't accuse me of doing so. Let us now talk of something on which you
+are more fluent."</p>
+
+<p>He laughed.</p>
+
+<p>"Do you know you are most awfully severe?"</p>
+
+<p>"Am I? I thought you were severe on me. But, if you really wish to know,
+I will tell you that I don't care to talk of my writings, because I
+always prefer a subject I can treat impartially. I can't be impartial
+about my own work&mdash;I am either unjust to myself or wearisome to my
+audience. I don't want to be either, so I avoid the topic as much as
+possible. This letter is from my sisters at Ryde&mdash;will you excuse me if
+I just peep to see if they are quite well?"</p>
+
+<p>"Most certainly," replied Claud, strolling meditatively on, with a
+glance now and then towards his companion, who was absorbed in her
+letter. He thought he had never beheld such an ungirlish girl in his
+life. That total absence of consciousness annoyed him more than ever.
+Elsa Brabourne was one mass of consciousness, all agitated with the
+desire to please, all eager to know his opinion of her. It really did
+not seem to matter in the least to Wynifred whether he had an opinion
+concerning her at all. Evidently he did not enter into her calculations
+in any other relation than as her brother's benefactor. Her burst of
+gratitude had been very pleasant to the young man's vanity; he had hoped
+at least to arrest her attention for a few days, to make her sensible of
+his presence, intolerant of his absence; but no. He had to confess that
+she was new to him&mdash;new and incomprehensible. He could not know that her
+state of impartiality and unconsciousness was an acquired thing, not a
+natural characteristic, the result of a careful restraint of impulse, a
+laborious tutoring of the will. It sprang from a conviction that, to do
+good work as a novelist, one must be careful to preserve the moral
+equilibrium, that no personal agitations should interfere with quiet
+sleep at night, and the free working of ideas. She met everybody with
+the pre-conceived resolution that they were not to make too deep an
+impression. They were to be carefully considered and studied, if their
+characters seemed to merit such attention; but this study was to be of
+their relation to others, not herself. She, Wynifred, was to be a
+spectator, to remain in the audience; on no account was she to take an
+active part in the scenes of passion and feeling enacting on the stage.</p>
+
+<p>No doubt this was not a normal standpoint for any young woman to occupy;
+but she was scarcely to be judged by the same standards as the average
+girl. If blame there were, it should attach to the circumstances which
+compelled her, like an athlete, to keep herself continually in training
+for the race which must be run.</p>
+
+<p>"Hilda and Jacqueline are quite well," she said, folding her paper with
+a smile. "They are having great fun. There is a mysterious yacht at Ryde
+which is causing great excitement; have you heard about it, by chance?"</p>
+
+<p>"I wonder if it is the same that I heard about from a man I know at
+Cowes? Is it called the <i>Swan</i>?"</p>
+
+<p>"Yes, that is the name. It belongs to a Mr. Percivale, of whom nobody
+seems to know anything, except that he is very rich and very
+retiring&mdash;nobody can get up anything like an intimacy with him. He
+speaks English perfectly; but they do not seem to think that he is
+English in spite of his name. It is interesting, isn't it?"</p>
+
+<p>"Yes, I think it is; but I expect, after all, it is nonsense. Why should
+a man make a mystery about his identity, if you come to think of it,
+unless he's ashamed of it? But, as a novelist, I suppose you have an
+appetite for mystery?"</p>
+
+<p>"Yes, I do think I must own to a weakness that way; you see mystery is
+rare in these days," said Wynifred, meditatively.</p>
+
+<p>"Well, I don't know; we have a good rousing mystery up here in the Combe
+just now&mdash;a mystery that I don't think we shall solve in a hurry," said
+Claud, with a baffled sigh, as they drew near the fatal spot in the
+lane.</p>
+
+<p>The girl's face grew grave.</p>
+
+<p>"Yes, indeed," she said, abstractedly.</p>
+
+<p>As if by mutual consent they came to a stand-still, and stood gazing,
+not at the grassy road-side where the crime had been perpetrated, but
+down the fair valley, where the long crescent of the waxing moon hung in
+the dark-blue air over the darkening sea.</p>
+
+<p>"The worst of an untraceable crime like this seems to me," she said, "to
+consist in the ghastly feeling that what has been once so successfully
+attempted, with perfect impunity, might be repeated at any moment&mdash;on
+any victim; one has no safeguard."</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, don't say that," he said, hurriedly, "it sounds like a prophecy."</p>
+
+<p>She started, and looked for a moment into his dilated eyes, her own full
+of expression. For the first time in their mutual acquaintance he
+thought her pretty. In the isolation of the twilight lane, rendered
+deeper by the shadow of the tall ash-trees, with the memory of a
+horrible crime fresh in her mind, a momentary panic had seized her. She
+came nearer to him; instinctively he offered his arm, and she took it.
+He could feel her fingers close nervously on it.</p>
+
+<p>"It is so dreadful," she said, in a whisper, "to think of wickedness
+like&mdash;like <i>that</i>, in such a beautiful world as this."</p>
+
+<p>"It is," he answered, in sober, reassuring tones, "therefore I forbid
+you to think about it. I ought not to have brought you home this way; I
+am an idiot."</p>
+
+<p>"It is I who am an idiot," said the girl, smiling at her own weakness.
+"Ever since I have known you&mdash;I mean, you have grown to know me at an
+unfortunate time. I suppose I am a little overdone; you mayn't believe
+it, but I&mdash;I hardly ever lose my head like this."</p>
+
+<p>"I can believe it very well," was the prompt reply. "You will be all
+right again in half a minute." He had turned so that their backs were
+towards the fatal spot; and, as if absently, he strolled back a little
+way down the road, her hand still on his arm. He began to speak at once,
+in his easy tones. "Look!" he said, "what a superb night it is! I
+thought I saw a sail, just going behind that tree. Ah! there it is! How
+bright! The moon just catches it."</p>
+
+<p>"Perhaps it is the <i>Swan</i>," she answered, struggling valiantly for a
+natural voice. "The girls said I was to look out for it&mdash;it is going to
+cruise westward."</p>
+
+<p>"Perhaps it is," he answered. "How phosphorescent the water is in its
+trail&mdash;do you see? How the little waves are full of fire!"</p>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">"'The startled little waves, that leap<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">In fiery ringlets from their sleep,'"<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+<p>she managed to quote, with a feeling of amazement that she should have
+re-conquered her self-possession enough to be able to speak and think at
+all.</p>
+
+<p>Her whole heart was going out to Claud in gratitude for his most
+delicate consideration. The whole affair had lasted but a few moments,
+but she had been very near a breakdown that evening&mdash;nearer than she
+herself knew. She had needed to say nothing&mdash;one look into her eyes had
+told him just what she was feeling, and instantly all his care had been
+to help her. She had no time to apply any of her habitual restraints to
+the spontaneous rush of kindness with which she was regarding him. All
+of a sudden she had discovered in him a delicacy of sympathy which she
+had never met with in his sex before. He appeared to know exactly what
+she stood in need of.</p>
+
+<p>It seemed to give her whole nature a species of electric shock; the
+carefully-preserved moral equilibrium was being severely strained.</p>
+
+<p>"Will you come now?" he said, presently, in her ear. "I think it would
+be better for you afterwards if you can walk quietly past; but don't if
+you had rather not; we will go the other way round."</p>
+
+<p>"I will walk past, please."</p>
+
+<p>He turned, and walked at her side.</p>
+
+<p>"I heard an anecdote of the mysterious owner of the <i>Swan</i> the other
+day," said he. "I fancy it was worth repeating;" and proceeded to relate
+said anecdote in even tones, making it last until they stood at the gate
+of the farm. There he broke off abruptly.</p>
+
+<p>"I have brought you home just in time to say good-night to your
+brother," said he, brightly.</p>
+
+<p>She turned, and gave him her hand.</p>
+
+<p>"Thank you with all my heart," said she. "You don't know how grateful I
+am. Good-night."</p>
+
+<p>She was gone&mdash;her tall slim form darting into the shadow of the doorway.</p>
+
+<p>Claud propped himself against the gate, slowly drew out his cigar-case
+and matches, and lighted up. Then he turned, and leaning both arms on
+the topmost rail, smoked placidly, with his eyes fixed on the vanishing
+white sail, and its track on the phosphorescent water. Presently he
+withdrew his weed from his mouth a moment, and turned to where the
+lights of Edge gleamed in the valley.</p>
+
+<p>"Elsa Brabourne," he mused. "A pretty name: and a lovely girl she will
+be in a year or two. Even if her brother allows her nothing, she will
+have more than two hundred pounds a year of her own, and the Misses
+Willoughby are sure to leave her every penny they possess. A younger son
+might do worse."</p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<h2>CHAPTER XVII.</h2>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i12">And he came back the pertest little ape<br /></span>
+<span class="i12">That ever affronted human shape:<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+<hr style="width: 30%;" />
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i12">And chief in the chase his neck he perilled<br /></span>
+<span class="i12">On a lathy horse, all legs and length,<br /></span>
+<span class="i12">With blood for bone, all speed, no strength.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i24"><i>The Flight of the Duchess.</i><br /></span>
+</div></div>
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+
+<p>"Colonel Wynch-Fr�re? Glad to see you, sir! Fine day for the wind-up,
+isn't it? Never seen Ascot so full on a Friday in my life! Everybody's
+here. Seen my wife, by chance?"</p>
+
+<p>"Yes, a minute ago: in Mrs. Learmorth's box. I've got a little bet on
+with her about this event," answered the gentleman addressed, tapping
+his little book with a gold pencil-case, and smiling.</p>
+
+<p>It was the lawn at Ascot: and it was brilliantly thronged, for the rain,
+which had emptied itself in bucketfuls on Cup day, had at last relented,
+and allowed the sun to burst forth with warmth and brightness for the
+running of the Hardwicke Stakes.</p>
+
+<p>"Ah! I don't know when I have been so excited over a race in my life,"
+said the first speaker. "I'm of the opinion that Invincible is going to
+the wall at last. Carter's on Castilian, you know, and he's going to
+ride to win."</p>
+
+<p>"Can't do it," said the colonel, shortly.</p>
+
+<p>"<i>Can't he?</i>"</p>
+
+<p>"No. He'll try all he knows, but Invincible is&mdash;Invincible, you know."</p>
+
+<p>"I know he has been hitherto; but he's never met Castilian in a short
+distance; I say all that bone will tell. I'll give you two to one on
+it."</p>
+
+<p>The bet was accepted, and Frederick Orton nodded to himself in a
+confident way, which also made his companion anxious, for he knew his
+was an opinion not to be despised.</p>
+
+<p>"Haven't seen my young nephew, have you?" asked Orton, as he made a
+memorandum in his book.</p>
+
+<p>"Not that I know of. What nephew?"</p>
+
+<p>"My young limb of Satan&mdash;confound him!" said Orton, with a laugh. "He's
+made his book as carefully as if he had been fifty years old. I've
+fetched him twice out of the ring by the scruff of his neck to-day; but
+Letherby, my old groom, is with him, so I suppose he's all right."</p>
+
+<p>"He's beginning early," observed Colonel the Honorable Edward
+Wynch-Fr�re, in his slow way.</p>
+
+<p>"He is. What do you think? He wants to ride Welsh Rabbit for the
+Canfield Cup. What do you think, eh? Should you let him do it?"</p>
+
+<p>The colonel meditated for some moments.</p>
+
+<p>"Is he strong enough in the wrists? That's where I should doubt him," he
+said, reflectively. "He rode splendidly at those private races of yours
+at Fallowmead; but then he knew his ground as well as his horse; he'd
+have to carry weight at Canfield."</p>
+
+<p>"Of course. But Letherby says he could do it. The only thing is the risk
+of a bad throw. These things are done in a minute, you know; and he's
+heir to a big property. It's been well nursed, and, if anything happened
+to the poor little beggar, plenty of people would be kind enough to
+say&mdash;&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>"I rode in a steeple-chase when I was sixteen," observed Colonel
+Wynch-Fr�re.</p>
+
+<p>In fact, he looked more like a stud-groom than anything else you could
+fancy. No wonder; he had but two ideas in the world: one was
+horse-racing, the other was his wife. It seemed, on the whole, rather a
+pity that Lady Mabel's very wide range of sympathies should include
+neither horse-racing nor her husband. It was purgatory for her to go and
+stay at the house of Lord Folinsby, his father, the great Yorkshire
+earl, where the riding-school was the centre of attraction to all her
+brothers and sisters-in-law, and where the young men seemed always in
+training for some race or another, cut their whiskers like grooms,
+walked bandy-legged, and talked of the stables. Thus, the colonel
+indulged in his horse-racing and his wife separately; and endeavored,
+with all the force of his kind heart and limited intellect, not to talk
+of the first when in the presence of the second.</p>
+
+<p>But to-day every faculty he had was centred on the question as to
+whether or not the duke's marvellous chestnut, Invincible, would have to
+lay down his laurels; and he moved along by Mr. Orton's side talking
+quite volubly, for him, on the all-engrossing theme, and the reports as
+to who was likely to drop money over the race.</p>
+
+<p>Be it stated that he was eminently a racing, not a betting man; he was
+no gambler, though always ready to back his own opinion.</p>
+
+<p>The grand stand was packed, and the ladies' dresses as brilliant as the
+June sky.</p>
+
+<p>The two men, moving slowly on, at last caught the eyes of two ladies who
+were beckoning them, and accordingly went up and joined them.</p>
+
+<p>"You are only just in time&mdash;they have cleared the course," said Mrs.
+Learmorth, a lady sparkling in diamonds but deficient in grammar.</p>
+
+<p>"My dear Fred, where's Godfrey?" asked Mrs. Orton, a handsome, very dark
+young woman, with a high color and flashing eyes.</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, he's somewhere about: Letherby's looking after him," was the
+nonchalant reply, as he lifted a pair of field glasses to his eye, and
+presently announced, in a tone of keen excitement; "They'll be out
+directly. Wait till they canter past the stand. Mrs. Learmorth, you've
+never seen Invincible, have you?"</p>
+
+<p>"Never!" cried the lady, eagerly. "Mind you point him out to me."</p>
+
+<p>"Here they come," said the colonel. "Look&mdash;that's Lord Chislehurst's
+Falcon&mdash;I've backed him for a place&mdash;lathy beast: but a good deal of
+pace. This one and this are both outsiders. There's the duke's daffodil
+livery, but that is only a second horse put on to make the running. Here
+comes the Castilian, Orton."</p>
+
+<p>Mr. Orton was watching with an absorbed fascination.</p>
+
+<p>"Ay, there's Carter," said he, studying the well-known jockey's face.
+"He means business, I tell you."</p>
+
+<p>The Castilian was a large dark-brown horse, and the crimson and
+pale-blue colors of his rider set him off to advantage; but, like many
+good race-horses, he was not singularly beautiful to the eye of the
+unlearned. He cantered by with some dignity, amid a good deal of
+cheering, when suddenly there was a rush, something like a flash of
+light, a bright chestnut horse, with a jockey in daffodil satin, darted
+like a fairy thing past the stand, followed by a spontaneous shout from
+the crowded onlookers. The magic hoofs seemed scarcely to touch the turf
+over which they swept; and Mrs. Orton, watching with a somewhat sardonic
+smile, observed,</p>
+
+<p>"You'll lose your money, Fred."</p>
+
+<p>"You wait and see," said her husband, oracularly.</p>
+
+<p>"I'm sure I hope he has been careful," she went on, with a laugh, to
+Mrs. Learmorth, "for he has promised to take me to Homburg if he wins."</p>
+
+<p>"Don't talk, Ottilie," cried Frederick Orton, irritably; "don't you see
+they are just going to start!"</p>
+
+<p>The race began&mdash;the memorable race which crowned Invincible with the
+chief of his triumphs. Not even with "Carter up" was the Castilian able
+to make so much as a hard fight for it. The lovely chestnut was like a
+creature of elfin birth&mdash;it seemed as if he went without effort; the
+field toiling after him looked like animals of a lower breed.</p>
+
+<p>The wild yells of applause rang and echoed in the blue firmament&mdash;the
+mad excitement of racing for the moment mastered everyone, from the
+youth whose last sovereign hung on the event to the pretty, ignorant
+girl upon the drag, who had laid her pair of gloves with blind devotion
+on the daffodil satin as it flashed past.</p>
+
+<p>One small boy, held up on the shoulders of an elderly groom, added his
+shrill screams with delight to the tumult around.</p>
+
+<p>"Well done, Invincible! Well rode, Bartlett! Bravo! bravo! Didn't I tell
+my uncle he'd do it! Pulled it off easy! Knew he would! Look at poor old
+Carter! What a fool he looks! Ain't used to coming in a bad second! Let
+me down, Letherby, I want to find my uncle! I say, though, this is
+proper! I've made five pounds over this."</p>
+
+<p>"You just wait one minute, Master Godfrey, till the crowd is cleared off
+a trifle&mdash;you'll be jammed to death in this 'ere mob if you don't look
+out, and the master said I was to see to you. You stop where you are."</p>
+
+<p>"You old broken-winded idiot," shouted the child, a boy of fourteen,
+very small for his age, but handsome in a dark, picturesque style. "Do
+move on a bit, you are no good in a crowd. I can't stay here all
+day&mdash;elbow on!"</p>
+
+<p>Letherby accordingly "elbowed on" through the yelling, shouting mass of
+betting-men, followed by the excited, dancing boy, who kept on talking
+at the top of his voice.</p>
+
+<p>"Isn't it a sell for aunt, by Jove! She said she wouldn't give me five
+shillings to spend at Homburg next month, and now I've got five pounds!
+Why, Letherby, I knew a fellow who went to the table with five pounds,
+and came back with five hundred. I warrant you I have rare sport at
+Homburg!"</p>
+
+<p>"That I can answer for it, you won't," said his uncle's voice suddenly
+in his ear, and the urchin felt himself abruptly seized by his
+coat-collar with no gentle hand. "Thanks to the upshot of this
+confounded race," said Mr. Orton, angrily, "you won't go to Homburg at
+all, for I can't afford to take you; and what the deuce do you mean by
+hiding away here when you're wanted? Your aunt's going home, and you'll
+go with her. I'll have you out of harm's way."</p>
+
+<p>Godfrey Brabourne made no reply. He skulked at his uncle's heels with a
+look of sulky fury on his face which was not good to see. The spoilt boy
+knew that, on the occasions when his uncle was out of temper like this,
+silence was his sole refuge; but, if he did not speak, he thought, and
+his thoughts were not lovely, to judge from the expression of his eyes.</p>
+
+<p>Letherby hurried away to put-to the horses, knowing that in this mood
+his master would not brook waiting; and, in half-an-hour from
+Invincible's winning of the Hardwicke Stakes, Mr. Orton and his party
+were spinning along towards the Oaklands Park hotel, where they were
+spending Ascot week.</p>
+
+<p>A very subdued party they were. Spite of his winnings, Godfrey was
+silent and sullen. Mrs. Orton's temper was not proof against the
+shattering of all her plans for next month; she knew that, if she spoke
+at all, it would be to upbraid her husband, so she held her tongue; and
+he was in a state of mute fury, less at the loss of his money than at
+his own error of judgment in such a matter.</p>
+
+<p>The very impression of his silent wife's face irritated him. "I told you
+so," seemed written on every feature.</p>
+
+<p>When they arrived at the hotel, he petulantly flung his reins to the
+groom, and went indoors by himself, "as sulky as a bear with a sore
+head," mentally observed the wife of his bosom.</p>
+
+<p>At dinner there was Colonel Wynch-Fr�re, who had come in a couple of
+hours later, having been invited by some other friends.</p>
+
+<p>He was sitting at a table some distance from the Ortons, but afterwards
+joined them in the drawing-room. The dinner had been good, and
+Frederick's temper was improving; he was not an ill-tempered man, as a
+rule, and he was now half-ashamed of his late annoyance. Mrs. Orton was
+less placable; she sat aloof, and secretly longed to be able to say her
+say.</p>
+
+<p>The colonel strolled up.</p>
+
+<p>"Where's the boy?" he asked.</p>
+
+<p>"In the stables, I suppose&mdash;where he always is," said the boy's aunt,
+snappishly.</p>
+
+<p>How she had wanted to go to Homburg! The Davidsons were going, and the
+Lequesnes, and Charley Canova; what parties they would have got up! And
+now&mdash;&mdash;</p>
+
+<p>"Godfrey's not always in the stables, Ottilie," said Fred, seating
+himself on a sofa at her side. "He has only gone now with a message from
+me. He'll be back directly."</p>
+
+<p>Frederick Orton was a rather picturesque young man of about
+five-and-thirty. He was dark, with brown eyes, and a short, pointed,
+Vandyck beard and moustache. The moustache hid his weak mouth. He was
+slight and pale, and looked delicate, which was probably the result of
+late hours and pick-me-ups.</p>
+
+<p>His wife was handsome, and rather large, a year or two younger than he,
+and showing an inclination to stoutness. Her eyes and complexion were
+striking, her voice deep and rather loud&mdash;a fine contralto&mdash;and her
+disposition energetic.</p>
+
+<p>She was very handsomely dressed for the evening in a dark-green dress
+covered with green beetle's wings, which flashed as she turned. The
+colonel rather liked her, though he never dared say so to Lady Mabel.</p>
+
+<p>"How is your Lady Mabel?" she asked of him, just as this thought was
+crossing his mind.</p>
+
+<p>"Lady Mabel is, as usual, having a good many adventures," he said,
+taking a chair near. "She has been on a driving-tour with her brother&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>"Mr. Cranmer? I know him slightly," said Frederick.</p>
+
+<p>"Yes; they are in Devonshire, at a little place called Edge Combe, near
+Stanton."</p>
+
+<p>"Dear me! Isn't that where all those old maids live&mdash;the Miss
+Willoughbys?" said Ottilie, turning to her husband.</p>
+
+<p>He made one of the many English inarticulate sounds representing "Yes."</p>
+
+<p>"I wonder if Lady Mabel has come across Godfrey's step-sister, Elaine
+Brabourne?" she went on, in her deep contralto accents.</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, yes, certainly; she mentions a Miss&mdash;is your nephew's name
+Brabourne? I never knew it. Then his father used to be colonel of my
+regiment."</p>
+
+<p>"That's it," said Frederick, calmly. "Yes, he has a step-sister, I'm
+sorry to say, who has been brought up by a set of puritanical old
+maids&mdash;old hags, my poor sister used to call them."</p>
+
+<p>"Lady Mabel is staying with the Miss Willoughbys," said the colonel,
+rather red in the face.</p>
+
+<p>There was an uncomfortable pause; then Mr. Orton laughed lazily.</p>
+
+<p>"Put my foot into it," he said. "I usually do. Very sorry, I'm sure. I
+don't know the good ladies myself, and I expect my poor sister made them
+all sit up; she was as wild a girl as ever I saw, and they used to take
+her and set her down for hours in a rotting old church which smelt of
+vaults, and where the damp used to roll down the walls in great drops.
+She said it gave her the horrors. But that's a good many years back now,
+and I daresay they have changed all that."</p>
+
+<p>"My wife says they are&mdash;well&mdash;very primitive," said the colonel. "But
+she speaks of Miss Brabourne as a most lovely girl, who only needs a
+little bringing out."</p>
+
+<p>"Ottilie, you must have that girl up to town," remarked Frederick.</p>
+
+<p>"Why?" said his wife, stifling a yawn.</p>
+
+<p>"Because I think Godfrey ought to know her."</p>
+
+<p>"Godfrey hates girls."</p>
+
+<p>"Yes, because he is always alone, and gets spoilt&mdash;he ought to know his
+sister."</p>
+
+<p>"She is coming to stay in town with Lady Mabel in the autumn, when we
+are settled," said the colonel; and at that moment some one came up and
+claimed his attention, so he bowed to Mrs. Orton and withdrew.</p>
+
+<p>Later that night, Frederick, coming up to bed, tapped at his wife's
+door, and, on receiving a muffled "Come in," entered with a face full of
+news.</p>
+
+<p>"I say, what do you think Wynch-Fr�re has been telling me? Poor old
+Allonby has got smashed up in this very place&mdash;I mean Edge Combe&mdash;and
+Elaine Brabourne found him lying by the roadside! So now we shall be
+able to hear whether she really is as good-looking as Lady Mabel wants
+to make out."</p>
+
+<p>A ray of interest warmed Ottilie's face, and encouraged him to proceed.
+He acquainted her with all the details of the accident which he had been
+able to glean from the colonel; while she sat brushing out her long
+thick dark hair, and listening. When he had apparently chatted her into
+a better humor, he sat down on the dressing-table, and, leaning forward,
+looked at her wistfully.</p>
+
+<p>"I say, old girl, were you fearfully set on Homburg?"</p>
+
+<p>Her face hardened.</p>
+
+<p>"You know I was," she said, shortly.</p>
+
+<p>"Well, look here&mdash;can you think of anything we could do with that
+blessed child? I can't bear to disappoint you. I think it would run to
+it if we could get rid of him. He means an extra room and some one to
+look after him, and even then he's eternally in the way. Could we get
+rid of him for a little while? If so, I'll take you."</p>
+
+<p>"You're very good, Fred," she said, with alacrity. "I&mdash;I'm sorry I was
+so cross. I'll think that over about Godfrey. It would be a hundred
+times nicer without him."</p>
+
+<p>"My word, though, won't there be a shindy?" said Frederick, laughing. "I
+wonder what the young cub will say! He isn't used to being left behind;
+you've spoilt him, Ottilie."</p>
+
+<p>"I indeed? I like that! Why, from the moment he was born you allowed him
+to do just whatever he chose, and taught him such language&mdash;&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>"All right&mdash;of course it was all my fault, as usual; but now, am I a
+good boy?"</p>
+
+<p>"Yes, you are."</p>
+
+<p>"Well, then, kiss me."</p>
+
+<p>So a peace was sealed for the time.</p>
+
+<p>On their return to London, on the Monday following, two letters awaited
+them. One was from Wynifred Allonby, explaining that her brother was
+ill, and that she had gone to nurse him, and asking that he might have
+time allowed him to finish his commission pictures; the other was from
+Miss Ellen Willoughby, begging that Godfrey might spend his holidays at
+Edge.</p>
+
+<p>"Just the very thing! I'll pack him off there the first minute I can!"
+cried Mrs. Orton, joyful and exultant.</p>
+
+<p>Frederick smiled prophetically.</p>
+
+<p>"He will probably try his sister's temper," he remarked, placidly, "and
+that in no common degree; but then, on the other hand, he will doubtless
+enlarge her vocabulary considerably, so he cannot be looked upon in the
+light of an unmixed evil."</p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<h2>CHAPTER XVIII.</h2>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i12">"'Go to the hills,' said one remit a while<br /></span>
+<span class="i12">This baneful diligence&mdash;at early morn<br /></span>
+<span class="i12">Court the fresh air, explore the heaths and woods;"<br /></span>
+<span class="i18">... 'I infer that he was healed<br /></span>
+<span class="i12">By perseverance in the course prescribed'<br /></span>
+<span class="i12">"You do not err; the powers that had been lost,<br /></span>
+<span class="i12">By slow degrees were gradually regained<br /></span>
+<span class="i12">The fluttering nerves composed; the beating heart<br /></span>
+<span class="i12">In rest established; and the jarring thoughts<br /></span>
+<span class="i12">To Harmony restored."<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i24"><i>The Excursion</i><br /></span>
+</div></div>
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+
+<p>The fresh air had never seemed so gloriously sweet to Osmond Allonby
+before.</p>
+
+<p>He sat in a roomy, comfortable arm chair, a shawl round his big limbs,
+and the light warm breeze that puffed up the valley bringing a faint
+color to his white face.</p>
+
+<p>He had two companions, Wynifred and Mr. Fowler. The girl sat on the
+grass, busy over some little piece of needle-work; Henry Fowler lay
+beside her, throwing tiny pebbles idly at the terrier's nose. A great
+peace brooded over Poole Farm&mdash;a peace which seemed to communicate
+itself to the three as they sat enjoying their desultory conversation.</p>
+
+<p>"And so," said Mr. Fowler, "Mr. Dickens returned to his own place
+yesterday, rendered absolutely despairing by his interview with your
+brother."</p>
+
+<p>"I know; it was laughable," said Allonby, laughing gently. "He almost
+gave me the lie, so determined was he that I had a secret enemy
+somewhere; I was quite sorry I couldn't oblige him with one, his
+disappointment was so painful to witness."</p>
+
+<p>"The worst of these detective police," returned his friend, "is that
+they will always pin their faith on some one particular feature of the
+case; they become imbued with a theory of their own, and in consequence
+blind and deaf to all that does not bear upon it. Mr. Dickens had
+settled that this was a vendetta, and he would entertain no other
+hypothesis."</p>
+
+<p>"The notion is absurd in the highest degree," said Osmond, with
+animation. "No! It was some tramp, you may be sure, and he was
+frightened, and made off before securing his booty. I must have looked a
+very easy prey, for I was sitting, as I have told you before, with my
+head on my hands, feeling rather done up. I have a dim recollection of a
+violent blow; I suppose it stunned me at once. Not a soul had passed me,
+I am sure; whoever it was came up behind, along the Combe road."</p>
+
+<p>"It would not be at all difficult for anyone who knew the country to
+conceal himself," said Mr. Fowler, meditatively, "but yet&mdash;the police
+watched well. Every neighboring village was searched, and all along the
+coast ... but these local police are easily deceived, you know. I wish I
+had been at home at the time."</p>
+
+<p>"I wish you had," said Wynifred, impulsively; and then half repented her
+impulse, for she received such a very plain look of thanks and pleasure
+from Mr. Fowler's kind eyes.</p>
+
+<p>From the first moment, he had been deeply struck with Miss Allonby; her
+character was as new to him as it was to Claud Cranmer, but he found her
+perfectly charming. Presents of fresh trout, of large strawberries,
+plump chickens, and invalid jellies daily arrived from the Lower House;
+and most afternoons the master would follow his gifts, and walk in,
+arrayed in his rough country clothes, very likely with a reminiscence of
+bricks or mortar somewhere on his coat sleeve, for he was building a
+house in the valley for some relations of his, and, as he was his own
+architect, the work necessitated a good deal of personal attention.</p>
+
+<p>Wynifred had been down to see the house in question, and then to tea at
+Edge Willoughby, and had been escorted back to Poole by Mr. Fowler in
+the starlight; and a most interesting walk it had been, for he knew
+every constellation in the heavens, and exactly where to look for each
+at any season of the year.</p>
+
+<p>A thorough liking for him had sprung up in her heart. The simplicity of
+his courteous manner was a rare charm; he was singularly unlike the
+London men of her acquaintance, with a modesty which was perhaps the
+most remarkable of his attributes.</p>
+
+<p>The little silence which followed her remark was broken by Osmond.</p>
+
+<p>"When is Cranmer coming down again?" he said.</p>
+
+<p>"Next week, I hope; sooner if he can. I had a letter from him this
+morning; he asked to be most particularly remembered to you and Miss
+Allonby, and inquired much after your health," said Mr. Fowler.</p>
+
+<p>"I am glad he was not down last week; the weather was so bad, he would
+not have known what to do," said Wyn.</p>
+
+<p>In fact, Claud had been reluctantly torn from Edge Combe by his despotic
+sister, who, when she got to London, found that to choose a house
+without his assistance was quite an impossibility. In such a matter, the
+colonel's opinion was never even asked; neither did he resent the
+omission in the least. If Mabel liked the house, he liked it too, and
+Claud would see after the stabling.</p>
+
+<p>So Claud went, and tramped Belgravia and even Kensington with
+submission; and, when at last a selection was made, found himself doomed
+to go down to Hunstanton with his tyrant and fetch up the children, the
+nurses, and the little governess for a week's shopping, previous to
+their being all swept off to Yorkshire, to be out of the way during the
+autumn at the castle of the earl, their grandpapa, whilst their mother
+went to make herself agreeable to her husband's constituents; in which
+last respect she certainly did her duty.</p>
+
+<p>In Mr. Cranmer's absence, the wounded man had grown stronger daily; had
+sat at his bedroom window, had made the circuit of his chamber, and now
+was promoted to sit in the garden; and Dr. Forbes exulted in the
+rapidity of his convalescence.</p>
+
+<p>"You see, there's everything in his favor," he said, complacently. "A
+fine constitution, a fine time of year&mdash;youth, and the best climate in
+England."</p>
+
+<p>It was highly satisfactory that he should make such excellent use of his
+advantages.</p>
+
+<p>"I feel to-day as if I could walk a mile," he said, with pride,
+stretching his long legs and arms and tossing his head.</p>
+
+<p>"I am glad you are feeling so well. You are going to have a visitor this
+afternoon&mdash;Miss Brabourne, who found you lying by the roadside; she is
+so eager to see you."</p>
+
+<p>Osmond blushed&mdash;actually blushed with pleasure. He was not very strong
+yet, and his heart beat stormily at thought of the coming meeting. All
+through his delirium a certain face had haunted him&mdash;a girl's face,
+which he always seemed to see when he closed his eyes. With returning
+consciousness the vision fled&mdash;he could not recall the features, but he
+had a feeling that they were the features of Elsa Brabourne, and that,
+if he saw her again, he should know her.</p>
+
+<p>"I'll go down as far as the stile, and see if I can see her," said Wyn;
+and, tossing her work to the ground, she rose and went wandering off
+among the flower-beds, singing to herself, and picking a rosebud here
+and there.</p>
+
+<p>"I envy you your sister, Mr. Allonby," said Henry Fowler.</p>
+
+<p>"Who? Wyn?" asked Osmond. "Yes she is a very good sort; but you should
+see Hilda and Jacqueline; they are both uncommonly pretty girls, though
+I say it."</p>
+
+<p>"I think Miss Allonby pretty."</p>
+
+<p>"Wyn? Oh, no, she isn't," was the fraternal criticism. "I've seen her
+look well, but you can't call her pretty; but I suppose she is
+attractive&mdash;some men seem to find her so."</p>
+
+<p>"Ah!" said Mr. Fowler.</p>
+
+<p>"But she is not at all impressionable," said Wyn's brother.</p>
+
+<p>Meanwhile Wyn was walking down the Waste in happy unconsciousness of
+being the subject of discussion, and presently was seen to wave her hand
+and begin to run forward. She and Elsa met in the middle of the Waste,
+and exchanged greetings. Jane Gollop was far behind&mdash;she was growing
+used to this now, and took it as a matter of course that the young feet
+which for years had dragged listlessly at her side should now, for very
+gaiety and youth, outstrip her.</p>
+
+<p>Now that Elsa's face wore that sparkling look of animation, now that her
+luxuriant tresses were piled classically on the crown of her beautiful
+head, the barbarity of her costume really sank into insignificance,
+triumphed over by sheer force of her fresh loveliness. Her glow of color
+made the pale Wynifred look paler, the girls were a great contrast.</p>
+
+<p>"How is Mr. Allonby? Is he going on well?" panted Elsa, before she had
+recovered her breath.</p>
+
+<p>"Capitally, thank you. Dr. Forbes says he never knew such a quick
+convalescence."</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, how glad I am! Is he ... do you think ... it is so very fine
+to-day ... is Mr. Allonby in the garden?"</p>
+
+<p>The shyness and confusion were very pretty, thought Wyn.</p>
+
+<p>"Yes," she said, delighted to be able to call the warm clear color into
+the speaking face. "He is sitting in the garden, and is so impatient to
+see you. Come this way."</p>
+
+<p>No need to speak twice. Elsa's feet seemed scarcely to touch the ground
+in their transit across the space which intervened between her and the
+hero of her dreams.</p>
+
+<p>Osmond would insist on rising from his chair to greet her; and his tall
+form looked taller than ever now that he was so thin.</p>
+
+<p>Elsa drew near, hardly knowing where she was or what she was
+doing&mdash;little recking that he was to the full as excited as she.</p>
+
+<p>They met; their hands touched; the girl could hardly see clearly through
+the mist of tears in her large speaking eyes. He looked straight at her,
+saw the crystal mist, saw one irrepressible drop over-brim the lid, and
+rest on the delicate cheek. A storm of feeling overcame him; he grew
+quite white.</p>
+
+<p>It was the face of the mystic queen in his visions of Avilion&mdash;it was
+beauty of the type he most passionately admired; and beauty which was
+stirred to its depths by pity and sympathy for him.</p>
+
+<p>He could say nothing articulate, neither could she. Their greeting was
+chiefly that of eyes, and of warmly grasping hands, for she had
+stretched both to him, and he had seized them.</p>
+
+<p>How long did it last? They did not know. To Osmond it seemed, like the
+dreams of his fever, to last for hours, and yet be gone like a flash.
+He only knew that presently he found himself seated again in his chair,
+his fingers released from the warm touch of hers; that she was sitting
+by him on Wynifred's vacated seat; that the skies had not fallen, nor
+the shadows on the grass lengthened perceptibly; and that neither Wyn
+nor Mr. Fowler expressed any surprise in their countenances, as if
+anything unusual had transpired.</p>
+
+<p>Apparently he had not openly made a fool of himself. He heaved a sigh of
+relief, and lay back among his cushions. There sat the lady of his
+dreams, no longer a phantom, a real girl of flesh and blood, with large
+eyes of morning grey fixed on him.</p>
+
+<p>He fancied how those calm eyes, like the misty dawn of a glorious day,
+would gradually warm and deepen into the torrid splendor of noon; when
+what was now only sympathetic interest should have strengthened into
+passionate love, when his voice, his touch should alone have power
+to&mdash;&mdash;</p>
+
+<p>Alas! as usual, he was building an airy cloud-palace for his thoughts to
+live in; and here was the real earth, and here was himself, a poor,
+struggling young artist, a competitor in one of London's fiercest and
+most crowded fields of competition, and with three unmarried sisters to
+think of.</p>
+
+<p>And there was she&mdash;could he dream of it for her? The future of a poor
+man's wife. <i>Wife!</i> The exquisite delight of that word, by force of
+contrast, calmed this enthusiast utterly. No. To him nothing nearer than
+a star, an ideal. His Beatrice, only to be longed for, never attained.</p>
+
+<p>And all this he had time to think of, while Wyn was cheerfully telling
+Elsa that he had that day eaten a piece of lamb, and "quite a great
+deal" of milky pudding for his dinner, which hopeful bulletin of his
+appetite was received with marked interest both by Mr. Fowler and his
+god-daughter.</p>
+
+<p>And then Elaine turned her bashful eyes on him, and he heard her voice
+saying,</p>
+
+<p>"I am so glad you are getting well so fast. I was very unhappy when they
+thought you would not live."</p>
+
+<p>"Were you?" he said, hoping his voice did not sound as queer to the
+others as it did to himself. "It was very philanthropical of you. That
+gift of pity is one of woman's most gracious attributes."</p>
+
+<p>Elsa was developing very fast, but she was not yet equal to replying to
+this speech.</p>
+
+<p>"I think I have been altogether far more fortunate than I deserve," went
+on Osmond. "Everyone in this fairy valley had vied in their efforts to
+be kind to me. Your good aunts, Mr. Fowler here, Mr. Cranmer and Lady
+Mabel, not to mention Dr. Forbes, Mrs. Battishill, and Mrs. Clapp."</p>
+
+<p>Elsa was still tongue-tied; and, oh! it was hard, when she had so much
+to say to him. How kindly he spoke! How handsome he looked when he
+smiled! If only she knew what to say!</p>
+
+<p>At this embarrassing juncture, Jane scrambled over the stile, grasping a
+covered basket. Like lightning the girl leaped up, ran to her nurse,
+and, taking her burden, carried it back to the young man's side.</p>
+
+<p>"I brought these for you," she faltered. "The strawberries are over, but
+here are white currants and raspberries ... raspberries are very good
+with cream. Do you like them?"</p>
+
+<p>"Like them? I should think so! My appetite is quite tremendous, as Wyn
+told you. Will you carry back my sincere thanks to Miss Willoughby for
+her kind thought?"</p>
+
+<p>She blushed, and then smiled, rising her face to his.</p>
+
+<p>"It was my thought," she said, timidly; "the aunts said they were not
+good enough to bring, and I went to Lower House for the currants," she
+concluded, nodding mischeviously to her godfather.</p>
+
+<p>"Like your impudence!" he answered, pretending to shake a fist at her.
+"Now, Miss Allonby, I must be going; won't you show me the picture you
+are doing of Saul Parker?"</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, yes, I should like to. I hope you will think it a good likeness,"
+answered Wyn, eagerly.</p>
+
+<p>She rose, and walked slowly into the house with Mr. Fowler, leaving the
+two seated together on the lawn, conscious of nothing in all the world
+but each other's presence.</p>
+
+<p>There was a little pause; then Elaine gathered courage. It was easier
+for them to talk with no listeners.</p>
+
+<p>"I saw you before you were hurt," she announced, blushing.</p>
+
+<p>"You saw me?" cried Osmond, devoured with interest. "Where? I never saw
+you."</p>
+
+<p>"No; I was behind your back. I was coming up to the farm; you were
+sitting at your easel. Your head was resting on your hands. I wanted to
+go and ask you if you were ill; but Jane hurried me on."</p>
+
+<p>"And I never knew," said Osmond, in a slow, absorbed way.</p>
+
+<p>"And so I asked Jane to go back round by the road because&mdash;because I
+wanted to see your face; and when we got there you were lying on the
+grass."</p>
+
+<p>Here the lip quivered. Allonby threw himself forward in his chair, his
+chin on his elbow.</p>
+
+<p>"I saw your face," he said, earnestly. "Tell me, did you not&mdash;were you
+not kneeling by me, and&mdash;and <i>weeping</i>?"</p>
+
+<p>The girl nodded, hardly able to speak.</p>
+
+<p>"You opened your eyes," she said, very low, after a pause, "and looked
+at me for a moment; but not as if you knew me."</p>
+
+<p>"But I saw you. Do you know"&mdash;sinking his voice&mdash;"that your face was
+with me all through my illness&mdash;your face, as I saw it to-day, with
+tears on your eyelashes?... I knew even your voice, when I have heard
+it in the garden, and I have been lying in bed. I knew when you laughed
+and when you spoke ... and I counted the hours till I should be well
+enough to see you and thank you. You'll let me thank you, won't you?"</p>
+
+<p>He took her hand again. The child&mdash;for she was no more&mdash;could not speak.
+It seemed as if light were breaking so swiftly in upon her soul that the
+glare dazzled her. She was helpless&mdash;almost frightened. Osmond saw that
+he must be careful not to startle or vex her. With a great effort he
+curbed his own excitement, and took a lighter tone.</p>
+
+<p>"Think what a benefactor in disguise my unknown assailant has been!" he
+cried brightly. "What have I lost? Nothing&mdash;absolutely nothing but a
+pudding-basin; what have I gained?" He made an eloquent sweep of the
+hand. "Everything! In fact, I can hardly realise at present what my gain
+is. To be ill&mdash;to be tenderly nursed&mdash;to have enquiries made all day by
+kind friends&mdash;to have my name in all the local papers&mdash;to be interviewed
+at least once a day by gentlemen of the press. I assure you that I
+never before was the centre of attraction; I hope it will last. That
+day's sketching in the lane may turn out to be the best stroke of
+business I ever did."</p>
+
+<p>"But," cried Elsa, remonstrating, "you don't count all the pain you had
+to bear?"</p>
+
+<p>"Pain!" he said, almost incoherently. "Did I? Have I borne pain? Oh, it
+counts for nothing, for I have forgotten all about it."</p>
+
+<p>"Really and truly? Have you forgotten it?"</p>
+
+<p>"Really and truly, just now. I may remember it presently, when I am
+crawling upstairs to bed to-night, with my arm round Joe Battishill's
+neck; but just now it is clean gone, and every day I shall grow
+stronger, you know."</p>
+
+<p>She did not answer. She saw fate, in the shape of Jane Gollop, bearing
+down upon her from the open farm-house door.</p>
+
+<p>"Miss Elaine, my dear, you wasn't to stay but a very little while
+to-day; and, if we don't start back, you won't be in time to go to the
+station with your Aunt Charlotte to meet your brother, you know."</p>
+
+<p>"To meet your brother!" echoed Osmond.</p>
+
+<p>"Yes." She turned to him. "He is my step-brother; I have never seen him
+since he was a baby."</p>
+
+<p>"Really? That sounds odd; but you are orphans; I suppose he is being
+brought up by other relations. I think it was cruel to separate you. How
+old is he?"</p>
+
+<p>"Just fourteen. I am glad he is coming at last."</p>
+
+<p>"I suppose so; and you will be so happy together that you will forget to
+come up to Poole and see the poor sick man?"</p>
+
+<p>"You <i>know</i> I shall not. I shall bring Godfrey."</p>
+
+<p>"Yes, do. Please come soon. But I ought not to be so grasping, and I
+have never thanked you properly for coming to-day. What an unmannerly
+brute I am. Please forgive me! Don't punish me by staying away, will
+you?"</p>
+
+<p>She drew near, and spoke low, that Jane might not hear.</p>
+
+<p>"I shall come whenever they let me," she said, with vehemence; "whenever
+I don't come, you will know it is because I was forbidden. If they would
+allow it, I'd come <i>every single day</i>."</p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<h2>CHAPTER XIX.</h2>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i22">I find you passing gentle.<br /></span>
+<span class="i12">'Twas told me you were rough, and coy, and sullen,<br /></span>
+<span class="i12">And now I find report a very liar;<br /></span>
+<span class="i12">For thou art pleasant, gamesome, passing courteous,<br /></span>
+<span class="i12">But slow in speech, yet sweet as spring time flowers:<br /></span>
+<span class="i12">Thou canst not frown, thou canst not look askance,<br /></span>
+<span class="i12">Nor bite the lip, as angry wenches will.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i24"><i>Taming of the Shrew.</i><br /></span>
+</div></div>
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+
+<p>It was quite an unusual event for Miss Charlotte Willoughby to be
+standing on the platform watching the arrival of the London train. Her
+preparation for the expedition had been made in quite a flutter of
+expectation. She was resolved to do her duty thoroughly by Godfrey
+Brabourne, much as she had disliked his mother. She had hopes that a
+stay in a household of such strict propriety, where peace, order, and
+regularity reigned supreme, might perchance work an improvement in the
+boy, do something to eradicate the pernicious influence of early
+training, and cause him, in after life, to own with a burst of emotion
+that he dated the turning-point in his career from the moment when his
+foot first trod the threshold of Edge Willoughby. This was a
+consummation so devoutly to be wished, as to go far towards reconciling
+the good lady to the presence of a boy in the virgin seclusion of the
+house. Elsa, at her side, was stirred to the deepest depths of her
+excitable temperament, each faculty poised, each nerve a-quiver as she
+hung bashfully back behind her aunt.</p>
+
+<p>There was a long wild howl, a dog's howl, followed by a series of sharp
+yelps and a sound of scuffling; a crowd collected round the dog-box. A
+small boy in an Eton suit dashed down the platform, parted the
+spectators right and left, and revealed to view the panic-stricken
+guard, with a bull-dog hanging to his trousers.</p>
+
+<p>"Ven! Come off, you confounded brute! How dare you!" cried the little
+boy in shrill tones, as he seized the dog by the collar, and dragged him
+off. "Didn't I tell you, you idiot," he went on to the guard, "not to
+touch him till I came! What fools people are, always meddling with what
+ain't their concern. Why couldn't you let my dog alone, eh? I don't pity
+you, blessed if I do," concluded he in an off-hand manner, cuffing his
+dog heartily, and shaking him at the same time. "I'll teach you manners,
+you scoundrel," he said, furiously; "and now, what am I to be let in for
+over this job? Has he drawn blood?"</p>
+
+<p>Elsa and her aunt were so absorbed, as was everyone else, in watching
+this episode, as to temporarily forget their errand at the station; but
+now the girl began to peer among the little crowd of bystanders, to see
+if she could spy anybody who looked like Godfrey.</p>
+
+<p>"Auntie," she whispered, "hasn't Godfrey come?"</p>
+
+<p>"I&mdash;am not sure."</p>
+
+<p>A cold fear, a presentiment, was stealing over Miss Charlotte's mind.
+Something in the voice, the air, the face of the dreadful boy with the
+bull-dog, reminded her uncomfortably of her deceased brother-in-law,
+Valentine Brabourne. She wavered a little, while vehement and angry
+recriminations went on between him and the railway-officials, noticed
+with a shudder how he felt in his trousers' pockets and pulled out loose
+gold, and was still in a state of miserable uncertainty when he turned
+round, and demanded, in high, shrill tones:</p>
+
+<p>"Isn't there anybody here to meet me from Edge Willoughby?"</p>
+
+<p>Both aunt and niece started, and gasped. Then Miss Charlotte went
+bravely forward.</p>
+
+<p>"Are you Godfrey Brabourne?" she asked, with shaking voice, more than
+half-ashamed to have to lay claim to such a boy before a little
+concourse of spectators who all knew her by sight. The guard lifted his
+cap, surprised, and half-apologetic.</p>
+
+<p>"Pardon, mum," he grumbled, "but I do say as a young gentleman didn't
+oughter travel with that dog unmuzzled. He didn't ought to do it; for
+you never know where the beast'll take a fancy to bite, and a man with a
+family's got hydrophobia to consider."</p>
+
+<p>"Hydrophobia! Hydro-fiddlestick!" cried Godfrey, making a grimace. "He
+ain't even broken the skin, and I've given you a couple of sovs.&mdash;a
+deuced lot more than those bags of yours ever cost." This speech
+elicited a laugh all round, and seemed to congeal Miss Charlotte's blood
+in her veins. "So now you just go round the corner and treat your
+friends. Why, if you had any sense, you wouldn't mind being bitten every
+day for a week at that price. How d'ye do, Miss Willoughby? My aunt
+Ottilie sent her kind regards, or something."</p>
+
+<p>"Will you&mdash;come this way?" said Miss Charlotte, desperately, possessed
+only by the idea of hastening from this scene of public disgrace. "Come,
+my dear, come! If the guard is satisfied, let the matter rest. I am sure
+it is very imprudent to travel with so savage a dog unmuzzled. Dear,
+dear! what are you going to do with him?"</p>
+
+<p>"Do with him? Nothing. He's all right; he's not mad. That ass must needs
+go dragging him out of the dog-box or something, that's all. He wouldn't
+hurt a fly."</p>
+
+<p>Miss Charlotte paused in her headlong flight from the station.</p>
+
+<p>"Godfrey, I regret&mdash;I deeply regret it, but I can on no account allow
+that beast to be taken up to the house. I cannot permit it&mdash;he will be
+biting everybody."</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, he's all right," was the cool retort. "Chain him up in the stables,
+if you're funky. Leave him alone. He'll follow the trap right enough if
+I'm in it. Now then, where are your cattle?"</p>
+
+<p>Miss Charlotte unconsciously answered this, to her, incomprehensible
+question by laying her lean hand, which trembled somewhat, on the handle
+of the roomy, well-cushioned wagonette which the ladies of Edge found
+quite good enough to convey them along the country lanes to shop in
+Philmouth, or call on a friend. The plump, lazy horse stood swishing his
+tail in the sunshine, and Acland, the deliberate, bandy-legged coachman,
+was in the act of placing a smart little portmanteau on the box.</p>
+
+<p>"Now then&mdash;room for that inside&mdash;just put that portmanteau inside, will
+you? I'm going to drive," announced Master Godfrey; and, as he spoke, he
+turned suddenly, and for the first time caught sight of Elsa.</p>
+
+<p>"Godfrey," said Miss Charlotte, "this is your sister Elaine."</p>
+
+<p>The boy stared a moment. Elaine's face was crimson&mdash;tears stood in her
+eyes; her appearance was altogether as eccentric as it well could be,
+for she wore the Sunday dress and hat to do him honor. To him, used as
+he was to slim girls in tailor-made gowns, with horsy little collars and
+diamond pins, perfectly-arranged hair, and gloves and shoes leaving
+nothing to be desired, the effect was simply unutterably comic. He
+surveyed his half-sister from head to foot, and burst into a peal of
+laughter. It was all too funny. His aunt was funny, the horse and trap
+funnier still; but this Elaine was funniest of all.</p>
+
+<p>"What a guy!" he said to himself, a sudden feeling of wrathful disgust
+taking the place of his mirth, as he angrily reflected that this strange
+object bore the name of Brabourne. Aloud he said:</p>
+
+<p>"I beg your pardon for laughing, but you have got such a rum hat on; I
+suppose anything does for these lanes." Then before anyone could dare to
+remonstrate, he was up on the box with the reins in his hand. "Now then,
+Johnnie," said he to the outraged Acland, "up with you. I'm going to
+drive this thing&mdash;is it a calf or a mule? Or is it a cross between an
+elephant and a pig? I suppose you bring it down for the luggage. What
+sort of a show have you got in your stables, eh?"</p>
+
+<p>To this ribald questioning, Acland, white with fury, made answer that
+the Misses Willoughbys had only one horse at present; at which the boy
+laughed loudly, and confided to him his opinion that "their friends must
+be an uncommon queer lot, for them to dare to show with such a
+turn-out."</p>
+
+<p>This dust and ashes Acland had to swallow, watching meanwhile the stout
+horse, Taffy, goaded up the hills with a speed that threatened apoplexy,
+and dashing down them with a rattle which seemed to more than hint at
+broken springs.</p>
+
+<p>And Elaine and her aunt sat inside, with Godfrey's portmanteau for
+company, and said never a word. Low as had been Miss Willoughby's
+expectations, little as she had been prepared to love the outcome of the
+Orton training, certainly this boy exceeded her severest thought; he
+out-heroded Herod.</p>
+
+<p>Elsa was simply choked; she could not say one word. She scrambled out of
+the wagonette at the door with a face from which the eagerness of hope
+had gone, to be replaced by a burning, baleful rage. She was furious;
+her self-love had been cruelly wounded, and hers was not a nature to
+forget. Of course she said nothing to her aunts. They had never
+encouraged her to divulge her feelings to them, and she never did. She
+rushed away to her old nursery, to stamp and gesticulate in a wild
+frenzy of anger and hurt feeling.</p>
+
+<p>Meanwhile Godfrey walked in, scowling. He had expected dulness, but
+nothing so terrible as this promised to be. Sulkily he ordered Venom,
+the bull-dog, to lie down in the hall, and stumbled into the
+drawing-room to shake hands, with ill-suppressed contempt, with all his
+step-aunts, who sat around in silent condemnation.</p>
+
+<p>Miss Ellen spoke first, thinking in her kindness to set the shy boy at
+ease.</p>
+
+<p>"You will be glad of some tea after your long journey; you must be
+thirsty."</p>
+
+<p>"Yes, I am thirsty; but I'm not very keen on tea, thanks. I'd sooner
+have a B and S, if you have such a thing; or a lemon squash."</p>
+
+<p>There was a dead silence.</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, don't you mind if you haven't got it," he said, easily; "a glass of
+beer would do."</p>
+
+<p>After a moment's hesitation Miss Ellen rang the bell, and ordered "a
+glass of ale," and then Miss Charlotte found her voice, and told their
+guest to go and chain up his dog in the stable.</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, all right! I'll go and cheek the old Johnnie with the stiff
+collar," he said; and so sauntered out, leaving the ladies gazing
+helplessly each at the other.</p>
+
+<p>All tea-time the visitor was considerably subdued, perhaps by the close
+proximity and severe expression of the sisterhood; but after tea Miss
+Charlotte told Elsa to put on her hat and take her brother round the
+garden. Once out of sight, Master Godfrey's tongue was loosed.</p>
+
+<p>"Whew! What a set of old cats!" he cried. "Have you had to live with
+them all your life? I'm sure I'm sorry for you, poor beggar."</p>
+
+<p>Elsa's smouldering resentment was very near ablaze.</p>
+
+<p>"What's the matter with my aunts?" she asked, defiantly.</p>
+
+<p>"What's the matter with your aunts? By Jove! that's good. What's the
+matter with <i>you</i>, that you can't see it? Such a set of old cautions!"
+he burst into loud laughter. "But you've lived with them till you're
+almost as bad! I never saw such a figure of fun! I say, what would you
+take to walk down Piccadilly in that get-up? I'm hanged if I'd walk with
+you, though?"</p>
+
+<p>"How dare you?" Elsa's cheeks and eyes flamed, she shook with passion.
+"How dare you speak to me like that? I hate you," she cried, "you rude,
+detestable child. I wish I had never seen you! Why do you come here? And
+I&mdash;I&mdash;I&mdash;was looking forward so to having you&mdash;I was! I was! I wish you
+had never been born&mdash;there!"</p>
+
+<p>"If she isn't snivelling, I declare! Just because I don't admire her
+bed-gown! Pretty little dear, then, didn't it like to be told that it
+was unbecomingly dressed? There, there, it should wear its things
+hind-part-before, if it liked, and carry a tallow candle on the tip of
+its nose, or any other little fancy it may have. As to asking me why I
+came here," he went on, with a sudden vicious change of tone, "I can
+tell you I only came because I was sent, and not because I wanted to.
+Uncle Fred and Aunt Ottilie are off to Homburg, and want to be rid of
+me, so they shipped me off here; and Uncle Fred told an awful whopper,
+for he said it was no end of a jolly place, and I could ride and drive.
+Ride what? A bantam cock? Drive what? A fantail pigeon, for that's all
+the live stock I can see on the estate, unless you count the barrel on
+four legs that brought us from the station, and which the old boy calls
+a horse; and now where's the tennis-ground?"</p>
+
+<p>"There isn't one."</p>
+
+<p>"Not a tennis-ground? Well, this is pleasant, certainly. Brisk up,
+whiney-piney, and tell me where's the nearest place I can get any
+tennis."</p>
+
+<p>"Now look here," said the girl, in a voice thick with emotion, "if you
+think you are going to speak to me like this, I can tell you you are
+dreadfully mistaken. How dare you!&mdash;how <i>dare</i> you say such things! But
+I know. It is because the aunts all speak to me as if I were four years
+old, and order me about. You think you can do it too. But you shan't. I
+am taller and older than you. I will knock you down if you tease me
+again&mdash;do you hear? I will knock you down, I tell you, you impudent
+child!"</p>
+
+<p>Godfrey shut his left eye, poked his tongue out of the right-hand corner
+of his mouth, and leered at his sister.</p>
+
+<p>"You only try, my girl," he said, "you only try, and I'll make it hot
+for you. You'll find out you had better be civil to me, I can tell you,
+or I'll make you wish you were dead; so now."</p>
+
+<p>"I shall tell my aunts&mdash;&mdash;!"</p>
+
+<p>"All right! You play the tell-tale, and you see what you'll get. I twig
+what you want&mdash;someone to lick you into shape&mdash;you've never had a
+brother. Well, now I've come, I'm going to spend my time in making you
+behave yourself and look like a Christian."</p>
+
+<p>She stamped her foot at him; she could hardly speak for wrath.</p>
+
+<p>"Do you know how old I am?"</p>
+
+<p>"No, and don't want to; I only know you're the biggest ass a man ever
+had for a sister, and that if I can't improve you a little, I won't let
+Aunt Ottilie have you up to town&mdash;for I wouldn't be seen with you; so
+now you know my opinion."</p>
+
+<p>"And you shall know mine. I think you the most cowardly, rude,
+detestable boy I ever met. I hate and despise you. I only hope you will
+be punished well one day for your cruelty to me."</p>
+
+<p>"Well, you are a duffer! Crying if anyone says a word to you! I say,
+who's the old boy coming up the path, getting over the stile at the end
+of the terrace?"</p>
+
+<p>The girl glanced up and recognised Mr. Fowler with a sense of passionate
+relief. He was the only person to whom she dared show her moods; in a
+moment she was sobbing in his arms.</p>
+
+<p>"Why, Elsie, what's this?" asked the quiet voice, as he stroked back her
+tumbled hair with caressing hand. "Look up, child. Is that Godfrey
+yonder?"</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, yes&mdash;yes&mdash;yes! And I hate him!... I ... hate him! I wish he had
+never come here to make me so unhappy! He is a bad boy! I wish I had
+never seen him!"</p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<h2>CHAPTER XX.</h2>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i12">Here all the summer could I stay,<br /></span>
+<span class="i14">For there's a Bishop's Teign<br /></span>
+<span class="i14">And King's Teign<br /></span>
+<span class="i12">And Coomb at the clear Teign's head,<br /></span>
+<span class="i14">Where, close by the stream,<br /></span>
+<span class="i14">You may have your cream,<br /></span>
+<span class="i12">All spread upon barley bread.<br /></span>
+<span class="i14">Then who would go<br /></span>
+<span class="i14">Into dark Soho<br /></span>
+<span class="i12">And chatter with dank-haired critics<br /></span>
+<span class="i14">When he can stay<br /></span>
+<span class="i14">For the new-mown hay<br /></span>
+<span class="i12">And startle the dappled crickets?<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i24"><span class="smcap">Keats.</span><br /></span>
+</div></div>
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+
+<p>A great bustle was rife in the little parlor of the "Fountain Head." A
+hamper was being packed, rugs strapped together, preparations in general
+being made. The excitement seemed to communicate itself to the village
+in some mysterious way; and small wonder. It was rarely that so many
+visitors from London haunted the Combe all at once; rarer still that so
+mysterious a celebrity attached to one of them; rarest of all that the
+Misses Willoughby should be giving a picnic-party.</p>
+
+<p>Yet so it was; and the weather, which, under the iron rule of St.
+Swithun, had "gone to pieces," as Osmond said, for the past three weeks,
+had now revived anew, full of heat and beauty and sunshine.</p>
+
+<p>In the doorway of the inn stood Osmond himself, and a tall, fine-looking
+girl with a brilliant complexion and large hazel eyes.</p>
+
+<p>"What a day for a pic-nic!" she cried, jovially. "And this place&mdash;I must
+freely admit that Wyn, prone as she is to rhapsody, has <i>not</i> overdone
+it in describing the Combe. Oh, here comes Mr. Haldane, just in time. I
+hope you know we were on the point of starting without you," said she,
+with an attempt at severity, as a young man came slowly along the road
+leading from the village.</p>
+
+<p>"I should soon have caught you up," he said peacefully, raising his hat
+with a smile. "How are you this morning, Mr. Allonby? Still
+convalescent?"</p>
+
+<p>"I don't think the present participle is any longer applicable. I am
+convalesced&mdash;completely convalesced, and, it seems to me all the better
+for my accident."</p>
+
+<p>"So you are not cursing me for having recommended the Combe as a
+hunting-ground?"</p>
+
+<p>"Not in the least, I assure you."</p>
+
+<p>"Did you ever hear, Mr. Haldane," cried the girl, with a burst of
+laughter, "that the detective tried to assign poor old Osmond's blow on
+the head to your machinations?"</p>
+
+<p>"No! Really! You flatter me; what made him do that?" asked he, with
+imperturbable and smiling composure.</p>
+
+<p>"He thought you had some <i>arri�re pens�e</i> in sending Osmond down here to
+paint."</p>
+
+<p>"Well, so I had."</p>
+
+<p>"You had?"</p>
+
+<p>"Of course. I knew he'd like the place so much that he'd want to spend
+all the summer here; and then I thought you and your sisters would come
+down; and then I thought I'd come down; and I have, you see."</p>
+
+<p>Jacqueline laughed merrily.</p>
+
+<p>"We're going to have such a good time to-day," she cried, "and, please,
+listen to me. You and Wyn are <i>not</i> to talk shop. The first of you that
+mentions the R. A. Schools, or the gold medal pictures, or the winter
+exhibition, shall be sent to Coventry at once! Remember! You are under
+orders."</p>
+
+<p>"Well, I don't think I'm likely to forget it, as long as you are here to
+remind me, Miss Jacqueline. By-the-by, aren't you getting bored down
+here? Surely the Combe falls a trifle flat after the gaieties of Cowes?"</p>
+
+<p>"We are getting on pretty well so far, thank you; a school-treat the day
+after we arrived, an expedition to the quarries yesterday, a pic-nic
+to-day! I am managing to exist, but I can't think what we shall do
+to-morrow. The blackberries are not yet ripe, there are no ruins to
+explore, and not another school-feast for miles; there will be nothing
+for it but to go out in a boat and get drowned."</p>
+
+<p>"All right; I'll come too."</p>
+
+<p>"You can go out in a boat and get drowned to-day, if you like,"
+suggested Osmond. "Boats are in the programme."</p>
+
+<p>"So they are! I had forgotten. How late this Mr. Fowler is! Don't you
+think we had better go on, Osmond, and leave you and Wyn to follow?"</p>
+
+<p>"Certainly, if you like. Who is packing?"</p>
+
+<p>"<i>Need</i> you ask? Hilda, of course. She always does everything she
+should. Wyn! Wyn! Are you ready?"</p>
+
+<p>"Coming!"</p>
+
+<p>Wyn emerged from the dark entry, and shook hands with Mr. Haldane.</p>
+
+<p>"I will send Hilda to you," she said, vanishing, and in a minute or two
+there appeared on the scene another tall girl, closely resembling
+Jacqueline in height and general appearance, and dressed exactly like
+her, down to the minutest detail. In fact the family likeness in all
+four Allonbys was strong, something distinctive in the curve of the
+chin, the setting on of the head, the steady glance of the eye, which
+made them all noticeable, whether handsome or not. They were, all four,
+people who, having once been seen, were not likely to be forgotten. Of
+his two younger sisters Osmond was justly proud. Their height, grace,
+and slenderness were striking, and the want of likeness in their
+dispositions completed the charm, by the rare virtue of being
+unexpected.</p>
+
+<p>Hilda was as reserved as Jacqueline was communicative, as statuesque as
+she was animated, as diligent and capable as she was lavish and
+reckless. The difference between them was this morning, however, much
+less obvious than the likeness, for Hilda was full of spirits, the whole
+of her sweet face irradiated with pleasure.</p>
+
+<p>They set off with young Haldane, chattering eagerly, the sound of their
+light laughter tossed behind them on the breeze as they climbed the
+steep grassy hillside to Edge, to join the rest of the party.</p>
+
+<p>They were hardly out of sight when Mr. Fowler and his dog-cart appeared
+down the road, the black horse's glossy flanks and polished harness
+reflecting the brightness of the sun.</p>
+
+<p>"Good morning," cried Osmond, blithely; "what a fresh lovely morning! We
+are ready and waiting for you."</p>
+
+<p>"We? Then I am to have the pleasure of driving Miss Allonby! That's all
+right. Cranmer came down yesterday evening, looking rather jaded; he
+seemed very glad to get here. He has gone on foot to join the others,"
+said Mr. Fowler, alighting and entering the dark cool passage of the
+inn.</p>
+
+<p>"Are you there Miss Allonby?"</p>
+
+<p>"Yes, here I am. Good morning, Mr. Fowler. Come and help me with this
+strap."</p>
+
+<p>He entered, and took her hand.</p>
+
+<p>"So you are all established here! What did Mrs. Battishill say to your
+desertion?"</p>
+
+<p>"She was very unhappy, but I could not help it. She totally declined to
+accept a penny for rent, and I wanted to have Hilda and Jac down, so I
+was obliged to move. I could not quarter my entire family upon her, it
+was too barefaced. There, how neatly you fastened that buckle! Now
+everything is ready. I'll call Tom to carry the hamper to the carriage."</p>
+
+<p>"You'll do no such thing; I shall take it myself. We are favored in our
+weather, are we not?"</p>
+
+<p>"That we are. In fact, everything is favorable to-day. My mental
+barometer is up at 'set-fair.' I have a mind to tell you why, and
+receive your congratulations all to myself. I heard from Barclay's
+to-day that my novel is to be put into a second edition. What do you
+think of that?"</p>
+
+<p>Mr. Fowler thought the occasion quite important enough to justify a
+second energetic grasping of Miss Allonby's little slim hand in his
+vigorous square palm; and the dialogue might have been for some time
+prolonged, had not Osmond cried out, from his position at the horse's
+head,</p>
+
+<p>"Now then, you two!"</p>
+
+<p>In a few minutes Wyn was enthroned beside Mr. Fowler in the high
+dog-cart, her brother had swung himself up behind with the hamper, and
+the swift Black Prince was off, delighted to be tearing along in the
+sunshine.</p>
+
+<p>"I am going to enjoy myself to-day, and forget all vexations," said
+Henry Fowler, in his quiet voice.</p>
+
+<p>"Vexations? Are you vexed? What is it?" asked Wyn, anxiously.</p>
+
+<p>"I am&mdash;a good deal vexed&mdash;about my Elsie," he answered, with a sigh.
+"Poor little lass! I think she is deeply to be pitied."</p>
+
+<p>"So do I," said Wyn, promptly; and Osmond cut in from behind.</p>
+
+<p>"I should like to lick that cheeky little beast of a boy."</p>
+
+<p>"There's the rub&mdash;you can't lick the child, he's too delicate," said
+Henry, with a sigh. "I took him by the shoulder and shook him the other
+day, and he turned as white as a sheet and almost fainted. He is a mass
+of nerves, and has no constitution; careful rearing might have done
+something for him, but he is accustomed to sit up all night, lie in bed
+all day, drink spirits, and smoke cigars&mdash;a poor little shrimp like
+that! It is a terrible trial to Elsie; one that I'm afraid she's not
+equal to," he concluded, slowly, his eyes rivetted on the lash of his
+whip, with which he was flicking the flies from Black Prince's pretty
+pricked-up ears.</p>
+
+<p>"She ought never to be called upon to endure it&mdash;they ought to send the
+little imp away," said Osmond, indignantly.</p>
+
+<p>"He does not show himself in his true colors before the Miss
+Willoughbys&mdash;this is where I can't forgive him," returned Mr. Fowler,
+sternly. "The child is a habitual liar&mdash;you never know for a moment
+whether he is telling the truth or not. His dog worried two of my sheep
+yesterday; the shepherd absolutely saw the brute in the field, and
+he&mdash;Godfrey&mdash;coolly told me that Ven had been chained in the yard all
+that morning. It was then," he added, with a half-smile, "that I shook
+him; I would have liked to lay my stick about him, but one can't touch
+such a little frail thing; and his language&mdash;ugh! That Elsa should ever
+hear such words makes one grind one's teeth. I never saw such a young
+child so completely vitiated."</p>
+
+<p>"What a misfortune!" said Wyn.</p>
+
+<p>"You are right; it is a real misfortune. I am very doubtful as to what
+steps I ought to take in the matter. Did you hear of his setting his
+bull-dog at Saul Parker, the idiot? The poor wretch had one of his fits,
+and his mother was up all night with him. Little cur! Cruelty and
+cowardice always go together: but think what his bringing up must have
+been."</p>
+
+<p>"I wonder Mr. and Mrs. Orton are not ashamed to send him visiting;
+Osmond knows something of the Ortons, you know."</p>
+
+<p>"Indeed!"</p>
+
+<p>"Yes; they have one of the new big houses up in our part of London, and
+Mr. Orton is something of a connoisseur in pictures. Osmond is painting
+two for him now."</p>
+
+<p>"Yes," said Osmond, laughing, "but now I go out armed, and escorted by a
+<i>cordon</i> of sisters to keep off murderers; landscape-painting has become
+as risky a profession as that of newspaper-reporter at the seat of war.
+I really think I ought to allow for personal risk in my prices, don't
+you, Fowler?"</p>
+
+<p>A brisk "Halloo!" startled them all; and, looking eagerly forward, they
+became aware of a group gathered together at some distance ahead, at the
+point where the road ended, and gave way to a winding pathway among the
+chalk cliffs. Very picturesque and very happy they all looked&mdash;Wyn
+longed to coax them to stand still, and take out her sketch-book.</p>
+
+<p>The wagonette stood a short way off, with two Miss Willoughbys, Miss
+Fanny and Miss Emily, seated in it. Acland was unloading the provisions
+and handing them to Jane. Hilda, Jacqueline, and Elsa were sitting on
+the grassy chalk boulders, with Mr. Haldane, Claud Cranmer, Dr. Forbes,
+and Godfrey as their escort.</p>
+
+<p>As the party in the dog-cart drew near, Osmond's eyes sought out Elsa.
+She was looking charming, for the aunts had taken Wyn into confidence on
+the subject of their niece's costume, and her white dress and shady hat
+left little to be desired. She and the Allonby girls had been plucking
+tall spires of fox-glove to keep off the annoying flies; Mr. Cranmer was
+arranging a big frond of diletata round Hilda's hat for coolness; and
+over all the lovely scene brooded the sultry grandeur of early August,
+and the murmur of the sea washing lazily at the feet of the scorched red
+cliffs.</p>
+
+<p>The spot selected for pic-nicking was a shelving bit of coast known as
+the Landslip. A large mass of soil had broken away in the middle of the
+seventeenth century, carrying cottages and cattle to headlong ruin. Now
+it lay peacefully settled down into the brink of the bay, the great scar
+from whence it had been torn all riddled with gull's nests. The chatter
+and laughter of the birds was incessant, and there was something almost
+weird to Wynifred in the strange "Ha-ha!" which echoed along the cliffs
+as the busy white wings wheeled in and out, flashing in the light and
+disappearing.</p>
+
+<p>"They are teaching the young to fly," explained Mr. Fowler. "If you came
+along here next week, you would find all silent as the grave."</p>
+
+<p>"I am glad they are not flown yet," said Wyn. "I like their laughter,
+there is something uncanny about it."</p>
+
+<p>Mr. Cranmer was passing, laden with a basket.</p>
+
+<p>"Characteristic of Miss Allonby! She likes something because it is
+uncanny!" he remarked. "Is there anything uncanny about <i>you</i>, Fowler,
+by any chance?"</p>
+
+<p>"What has upset Cranmer?" asked Henry, arching his eyebrows.</p>
+
+<p>"I don't know, really. Suppose you go and find out," said Wyn, laughing
+a little.</p>
+
+<p>It was her greeting of him which had annoyed Claud; and Wyn was keen
+enough to gauge precisely the reason why it had annoyed him.</p>
+
+<p>He had scarcely seen her since the evening when he and she had walked
+from the village to Poole together. A vivid remembrance of that walk
+remained in his mind, and he had been determined to meet her again in
+the most matter-of-fact way possible. He told himself that it would be
+ungentlemanly in the extreme to so much as hint at sentimental memories,
+when he was not in the least in love, and had no intention of becoming
+so. Accordingly his "How do you do, Miss Allonby?" had been the very
+essence of casual acquaintanceship. Wyn, on her side, was even more
+anxious than he that her momentary weakness should be treated merely as
+a digression. She had been very angry with herself for having been so
+stirred; for stirred she had been, to such an unwonted extent, that
+Claud had been scarcely a moment out of her thoughts for two days after.
+The very recollection made her angry with herself. She met him on his
+own ground; if his greeting was casual, hers was even more so. It was
+perfect indifference&mdash;not icy, not reserved, so as to hint at hidden
+resentment, hidden feeling of some kind, but simply the most complete
+lack of <i>empressement</i>; his hand and himself apparently dismissed from
+her mind in a moment; and this should have pleased Claud, of
+course,&mdash;only it did not.</p>
+
+<p>He asked himself angrily what the girl was made of. His usually sweet
+temper was quite soured for the moment; impossible to help throwing a
+taunt behind him as he passed her, impossible to help being furious when
+he perceived that the taunt had not stung at all. He looked round for
+Elsa Brabourne, that he might devote himself to her; but she was
+entirely absorbed in the occupation of finding a sheltered place for
+Allonby, where he might be out of the sun.</p>
+
+<p>Jacqueline and young Haldane were laying the cloth together, and doing
+it so badly that Hilda seized it from them and dismissed them in
+disgrace, proceeding to lay it herself with the assistance of old Dr.
+Forbes, who had fallen a hopeless victim at first sight. Jacqueline and
+Haldane went off, apparently quarrelling violently, down to the shore,
+and were presently to be seen in the act of fulfilling their threat of
+going out in a boat and getting drowned. Mr. Fowler shouted to them not
+to go far, as dinner would be ready at once, and hastened off to pilot
+dear little Miss Fanny safely down the rocky pathway to a seat where she
+might enjoy her picnic in comfort. Everyone had been relieved, though
+nobody had liked to say so, when Miss Charlotte announced that picnics
+were not in her line.</p>
+
+<p>Wyn had been bitterly disappointed that it was not possible to bring
+Miss Ellen; but the invalid's health was growing daily feebler, and she
+was now quite unequal to the exertion of the shortest drive. So Miss
+Fanny, fortified by Miss Emily, had set out, with as much excitement and
+trepidation as if she had joined a band for the discovery of the
+north-west passage; and now, clinging to Henry Fowler's arm, was
+carefully conducted down the perilous steps towards the place of
+gathering. Wyn was left standing by herself, watching with a smile the
+manoeuvres of Jac and Haldane in their boat below, and Claud was left
+with a scowl watching Wyn.</p>
+
+<p>After standing silently aloof for several minutes, he went slowly up to
+her.</p>
+
+<p>"Your brother has made wonderful progress since I left, Miss Allonby,"
+he remarked, stiffly.</p>
+
+<p>"Yes, hasn't he?" she said, with a smile, her eyes still fixed on the
+boat. "Do just look at my sister; she is trying to pull, and she is only
+accustomed to Thames rowing; she does not know what to do without a
+button to her oar."</p>
+
+<p>He did not look, he kept his eyes rivetted on her calm face.</p>
+
+<p>"You look much better for your stay in Devonshire, too," he said,
+determined to make the conversation personal.</p>
+
+<p>"Yes, so the girls say. I was rather over-worked when I first came down.
+How calm it is, isn't it? Hardly a wavelet. I think even I could go out
+without feeling unhappy to-day."</p>
+
+<p>"May I take you presently? I am pretty well used to sea-rowing. My
+brother's place in Ireland is on the coast."</p>
+
+<p>"Thanks, I should like to come; we will make up a party&mdash;Hilda and Mr.
+Fowler&mdash;&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>"You are determined to give me plenty of work. I suggested pulling one
+person&mdash;not three. There are four boats; let them take another; but
+perhaps you don't care to go without Mr. Fowler."</p>
+
+<p>This speech approached nearer to being rude than anything she had ever
+heard from the courteous Claud. It made her very angry. She lifted her
+eyes and allowed them to meet his calmly.</p>
+
+<p>"It certainly adds greatly to my pleasure to be in Mr. Fowler's
+society," she said very tranquilly; "he is one of the most perfect
+gentlemen I ever met."</p>
+
+<p>"You are right, he is," said Claud, almost penitently; and just at this
+juncture Godfrey tore by like a whirlwind, shouting out at the top of
+his voice,</p>
+
+<p>"Dinner! Dinner! Dinner's ready! Look alive, everybody! Come and tackle
+the grub!"</p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<h2>CHAPTER XXI.</h2>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i12">Is she wronged? To the rescue of her honor,<br /></span>
+<span class="i18">My heart!<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i24"><i>Song from "Pippa Passes."</i><br /></span>
+</div></div>
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+
+<p>The dinner was a most hilarious repast. It was impossible to resist the
+infectious good spirits of the Allonby girls, and Godfrey was duly awed
+and held in check by the presence of Mr. Fowler.</p>
+
+<p>Elsa sat, her eyes wide open, drinking in, word by word, all this fresh
+thrilling life which was opening round her. Girls and their ways were
+becoming less and less of a mystery to her; the expression which had
+been so wanting was now informing all the pretty features, making her
+beauty a thing to be wondered at and rejoiced over by the impressionable
+Osmond. Dinner over, all dispersed to seek their pleasure as seemed best
+to them; and Mr. Fowler, who appeared to have constituted himself surety
+for Godfrey's good behavior, ordered the boy to come out in the same
+boat with him. But he was not cunning enough for the spoilt child.</p>
+
+<p>"Likely," remarked Master Brabourne, "that I'm going to pass the
+afternoon dangling from that old joker's watch-chain. Not much; no,
+thank you; I'd sooner be on my own hook this journey, any way; so you
+may whistle for me, Mr. Fowler."</p>
+
+<p>After this muttered soliloquy, he at once obliterated himself, so
+completely, that nobody noticed that he was missing, and Henry embarked
+with Hilda Allonby and Miss Emily Willoughby, and was half-way across
+the bay before he remembered the tiresome child's existence. Miss Fanny
+declined the perils of the deep, and stayed on shore; Wynifred remained
+with her for a few minutes, to see that she was happy and comfortable
+and, on turning away at last, found that there was nobody left for her
+to pair off with but Mr. Cranmer, who stood doggedly at a short
+distance, watching her.</p>
+
+<p>"What shall we do?" he asked.</p>
+
+<p>"I don't mind. What is everyone else doing?"</p>
+
+<p>"Going out in boats. Are you anxious to be in the fashion?"</p>
+
+<p>"Yes, I think so. Is there a boat left?"</p>
+
+<p>"There is. Come down this way."</p>
+
+<p>It rather vexed Wynifred to find herself thus appropriated. It had been
+her intention to steer clear of Claud, and now here he was, glued to her
+side for the afternoon. However, there was really no reason for
+disquiet; since her momentary lapse she had taken herself well in hand,
+and felt that she had the advantage over him by the fact of being
+warned.</p>
+
+<p>As they slipped through the blue water, she turned her eyes to land, and
+there saw a sight which, for no special reason, seemed to cast a tinge
+of sadness over her mood. It was only Osmond and Elsa, side by side,
+wandering inland, slowly, and evidently in deep conversation. In a few
+seconds the chalk boulders would hide them from view; Wyn watched their
+progress wistfully, and then, suddenly withdrawing her gaze, found that
+of her companion fixed upon her.</p>
+
+<p>"I ought to apologize for saying anything," he said, deprecatingly, "but
+that is a pretty obvious case, isn't it?"</p>
+
+<p>"Is it?"</p>
+
+<p>He suddenly aimed one of his shafts of ridicule at her.</p>
+
+<p>"A novelist and so unobservant?"</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, no," said Wyn, gravely, leaning forward, her chin on her hand, and
+still following the couple with her eyes. "I am not unobservant."</p>
+
+<p>"Yet you don't see that your brother is attracted?"</p>
+
+<p>"I see it quite well."</p>
+
+<p>"Your tone implies dissatisfaction. Don't you like Miss Brabourne?"</p>
+
+<p>"You ask home questions; I hardly feel able to answer you. I know so
+little of her."</p>
+
+<p>He arched his eyebrows.</p>
+
+<p>"Is hers such a very intricate character?"</p>
+
+<p>"I don't know about intricate; perhaps not, but it is remarkably
+undeveloped."</p>
+
+<p>"Don't you like what you have seen of her?"</p>
+
+<p>Wyn hesitated.</p>
+
+<p>"I think I ought not to make her the subject of discussion; it doesn't
+seem quite kind."</p>
+
+<p>"I beg your pardon, it is my fault. I have been trying to make you talk
+about her, because I honestly wanted your opinion. I have studied the
+young lady in question a good deal; but I am one who believes that you
+should go to a woman to get a fair opinion of a woman."</p>
+
+<p>"What!" cried Wyn, with animation. "Take care! You could not mean that,
+surely! It is too good to be true. Have I at last discovered a man who
+believes that woman can occasionally be impartial&mdash;who is not convinced
+that the female mind is swayed exclusively by the two passions of love
+and jealousy? This is really refreshing! Yes, I do believe you are
+right. A woman should be judged by the vote of her own sex. Of course,
+one particular woman's opinion of her may very likely be biassed. I
+don't pretend to say that women are not sometimes spiteful&mdash;I have known
+those who were. But to say that some fair young girl will be
+deliberately tabooed by all the girls she knows, simply because she
+happens to be attractive to gentlemen, is a fiction which is the
+monopoly of the male novelist. I have never known a woman really
+unpopular among women without very good cause for it."</p>
+
+<p>"Exactly. Well, this being so, I shall attach great weight to your
+opinion of Miss Elsa."</p>
+
+<p>"In that case, I had far better not give it; besides, I am only one
+woman, and the fact that my brother is evidently much attracted by the
+subject of our conversation is very likely to make my judgment
+one-sided. You know, I think nobody good enough for Osmond."</p>
+
+<p>"Most natural; yet I would go bail for the candor of your judgment."</p>
+
+<p>"Would you? I am not sure whether I would. I have not much to go upon,"
+she said, musingly.</p>
+
+<p>"You have allowed me to gather this much&mdash;that you are not particularly
+favorably impressed," he said, cunningly. "You had better give me your
+reasons."</p>
+
+<p>She made a protesting gesture.</p>
+
+<p>"It is not fair&mdash;I have said nothing," she answered. "I tell you I can
+form no opinion worth having. I only know two points concerning
+Elsa&mdash;she is very beautiful and very unsophisticated. I don't know that,
+in my eyes, to be unsophisticated is to be charming; I know it is so in
+the opinion of many. I should say that where the instincts of a nature
+are noble, it <i>is</i> very delightful to see those impulses allowed free
+and natural scope&mdash;no artificial restraint&mdash;no repression; but I think,"
+she continued, slowly, "that some natures are better for training&mdash;some
+impulses decidedly improved by being controlled."</p>
+
+<p>"I should think Miss Brabourne had been controlled enough, in all
+conscience."</p>
+
+<p>"No," said Wyn, "she has only not been allowed to develop. The Misses
+Willoughby have never taught her to restrain one single impulse, because
+they have failed to recognise the fact that she has impulses to
+restrain. They do not know her any better than I do&mdash;perhaps not so
+well."</p>
+
+<p>"Very likely," said Claud; "I see what you mean. You think it would be
+unjust to her to pronounce on a character which has had, as yet, no
+chance of self-discipline?"</p>
+
+<p>"Exactly," agreed Wyn, with a sigh of relief at having partly evaded
+this narrow questioning. She did not like to say to him what had struck
+her several times in her intercourse with Elsa, namely, that there was a
+certain want in the girl's nature&mdash;a something lacking&mdash;an absence of
+traits which in a disposition originally fine would have been pretty
+sure to show themselves.</p>
+
+<p>Wynifred was anxious for Osmond. She had never seen him seriously
+attracted before. Claud did not know, as she did, how significant a fact
+was his present exclusive devotion, and was naturally not aware of the
+consistency with which the young artist had always held himself aloof
+from the aimless flirtations which are so much the fashion of the day.</p>
+
+<p>In the present state of society it needs a clever man to steer clear of
+the charge of flirting, but Osmond Allonby had done it, whilst eminently
+sociable, and avowedly fond of women's society, he had managed that his
+name should never be coupled on the tongues of the thoughtless with that
+of any girl he knew.</p>
+
+<p>But now&mdash;&mdash;! Every rule and regulation which had hitherto governed his
+life seemed swept away. Old limits, old boundaries were no more. The
+power of marshalling his emotions and finding them ready to obey when he
+cried "Halt!"&mdash;a power he possessed in common with his sister
+Wynifred&mdash;was a thing of the past. Even Wyn's loving eyes, following him
+so sympathetically, could not guess the completeness of his surrender.
+All the deep, carefully-guarded treasure of his love was ready to be
+poured out at the feet of the golden-haired, white-robed Elsa at his
+side. He would not own to himself that his attachment was likely to
+prove a hopeless one. With the swiftness of youth in love, his thoughts
+had ranged over the future. He was making a career&mdash;Wyn was following
+his example, in her own line. Jacqueline and Hilda were too pretty to
+remain long unmarried.</p>
+
+<p>Concerning Elsa's heiress-ship he was not half so well-informed as Claud
+Cranmer. But indeed the question of ways and means only floated lightly
+on the top of the deep waves of feeling that filled his soul. His Elaine
+seemed to him a creature from another sphere&mdash;isolated, innocent, and
+wilful as the Maid of Astolat herself. Probably few young men in the
+modern Babylon could have brought her such an unspent, single-hearted,
+ideal devotion; his love was hardly that of the nineteenth century.</p>
+
+<p>The only difficulty he experienced, in walking at her side, was to check
+himself, to so curb his passion as to be able to talk lightly to her;
+and, even through his most ordinary remarks, there ran a vibration, a
+thrill of feeling, "the echo in him broke upon the words that he was
+speaking," and perhaps communicated itself to the mood of the
+uncomprehending girl.</p>
+
+<p>"Now," he said, as after several minutes' silence they seated themselves
+at last, sheltered from sun and breeze, under the shadow of a chalk
+cliff. "Now at last I claim your promise."</p>
+
+<p>"My promise?"</p>
+
+<p>"Yes, you know what I asked you when we met to-day. You were looking
+like Huldy in the American poem,</p>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i2">'All kind o' smily round the lips,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">An' teary round the lashes.'<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+<p>You said that when we were alone you'd tell me why. What was it?"</p>
+
+<p>A flash of sudden, angry resentment crossed the girl's fair face, and
+tears again welled up to the edges of her limpid eyes. Osmond thought he
+had never seen anything so lovely as her expression and attitude. If one
+could but paint the quick, panting heave of a white throat, the quiver
+of a sad, impetuous mouth.</p>
+
+<p>"You can guess&mdash;it was the usual thing&mdash;Godfrey," she said, struggling
+to command her voice, but in vain. She could say no more, but turned her
+face away from him, swallowing tears.</p>
+
+<p>Osmond felt a sudden movement of helpless indignation, which almost
+carried him away. He mentally applied the brake before he could answer
+rationally.</p>
+
+<p>"It is abominable&mdash;unheard of!" was the calmest expression he could
+think of. "Something must be done&mdash;quickly too! I should like to wring
+the insolent little beggar's neck for him! What did he do, to-day?"</p>
+
+<p>For answer she pushed up her sleeve, showing him two livid bruises on a
+dazzlingly white arm&mdash;an arm with a dimpled round elbow.</p>
+
+<p>"I caught him smoking in the stable, which is forbidden because of
+setting fire to the straw," she faltered, "and I told him he ought not
+to do it, so he did what he calls the 'screw.' You don't know how it
+hurts!"</p>
+
+<p>Osmond's wrath surmounted even his love.</p>
+
+<p>"But why don't you box his ears&mdash;why don't you give him a
+lesson&mdash;cowardly little beggar!" he cried. "You are bigger than he, Miss
+Brabourne, you ought to be more than a match for him!"</p>
+
+<p>A burst of tears came.</p>
+
+<p>"I don't even know how to hit," she sobbed, childishly. "I don't know
+anything that other people know; and, if I tell of him, he pays me out
+so dreadfully! He puts frogs in my bed, and takes away my candle, and
+the other night he dressed up in a sheet, and made phosphorous eyes, and
+nearly frightened me out of my senses, and I don't dare tell
+because&mdash;because he would do something even worse if I did! Oh, you
+don't know what he is. He catches birds and mice, and cuts them up
+alive&mdash;he says he is going to be a doctor, and he is practising
+vivisection; and he makes me look while he is doing it&mdash;if I don't he
+has ways of punishing me. He made me smoke a cigar, and I was so
+terribly sick, and he made me steal the sideboard keys, and get whiskey
+for him, and said if I did not he would tell aunts something that would
+make them forbid me to come to the picnic. He was tipsy last night," she
+shuddered, "really tipsy. He made me help him up to his room, and tell
+aunts he was not well, and could not come down to supper. Oh!" she burst
+out, "you don't know what my life is! He makes me miserable! I hate him!
+But I daren't tell, you don't know what he would do if I told!" Her face
+crimsoned with remembrance of insult. "I <i>can't</i> tell you the worst
+things, I can't!" she cried, "but he is dreadful. Every little thing I
+say or do, he remembers, and seems to see how he can make me suffer for
+it. I have no peace, day or night; and he is so good when aunts are
+there. They don't know how wicked he is."</p>
+
+<p>"But surely," urged Osmond, gently, "if you were to tell the Misses
+Willoughby, they would send him home, and then you would be free from
+him?"</p>
+
+<p>She dashed away the tears from her eyes, and shook her head with a smile
+full of bitterness.</p>
+
+<p>"They wouldn't believe me," she said, "they never have believed me; that
+is, Aunt Charlotte wouldn't, and she is the one who rules. They would
+call Godfrey and ask if it was true, and he&mdash;he thinks nothing of
+telling a lie. Oh! he is a sneak and a coward! If you knew how he has
+curried favor since he has been here! Aunt Charlotte likes him&mdash;she will
+give him things she would never give me! She would never believe my word
+against his."</p>
+
+<p>"Miss Brabourne&mdash;Elsa," faltered the young man tenderly, "Don't sob
+so&mdash;you break my heart&mdash;you&mdash;you make me&mdash;forget myself!"</p>
+
+<p>He leaped to his feet. Poor fellow, his self-command was rapidly
+failing. It had needed but this, the sight of helpless distress in his
+ladylove, to finish his subjugation. He was raging with love, and a
+burning impotent desire to thrash Master Godfrey Brabourne within an
+inch of his life. Yet, as Henry Fowler had said, how could one touch
+such a scrap of a child, such a delicate, puny boy?</p>
+
+<p>He knew well enough the power such a young scoundrel would have to
+render miserable the life of a timid girl, unused to brothers. Elsa had
+never learned to hold her own, never learned to be handy or helpful. She
+was most probably what boys call a muff, a fit butt for the coarse
+ridicule and coarser bullying of the ill-brought-up Godfrey. That
+helplessness which in the eyes of her lover was her culminating charm
+was exactly what to the boy was an irresistible incentive to cruelty.</p>
+
+<p>Osmond turned his eyes on the drooping figure of the girl. She was
+leaning forward, her elbow on her knee. Her hollowed hand made a niche
+for her chin to rest in, and her profile was turned towards him as she
+gazed sadly seawards. On her cheek lay one big tear, and the long, thick
+lashes were wet.</p>
+
+<p>He came again to her side, and knelt there. Flushing at his own
+boldness, he took her hand. It trembled in his own, but lay passive.</p>
+
+<p>"Elsa," he said, tenderly, soothingly, "it will not be for long, you
+must not let this wretched child's mischief prey upon you so. I know how
+badly you feel it, but consider&mdash;he will be gone in a few days."</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, no, no, that is just what is so hateful! He will be here for weeks!
+Mr. Orton has been taken ill at Homburg, and aunts have promised to
+keep him till they come back. Oh,"&mdash;she snatched away her hand and
+clasped it with the other, as if hardly conscious of what she did,&mdash;"oh,
+I can bear it now, when you are all here; but next week&mdash;next week&mdash;when
+there will be no Wynifred, no Hilda, no Jacqueline ... no you!... what
+shall I do then?"</p>
+
+<p>"Elaine!"</p>
+
+<p>"When I think of it, I could kill him!" cried the girl, her face
+reddening with the remembrance of insults which she could not repeat to
+Osmond. "You don't know what a wicked mind he has&mdash;he is like an evil
+spirit, sent to lure me on to do something dreadful! When he speaks so
+to me, I feel as if I must silence him&mdash;as if I could strike him with
+all my force. Suppose&mdash;suppose one day I could not restrain myself...."</p>
+
+<p>She was as white as a sheet, as she suddenly paused.</p>
+
+<p>"What was that noise?" she panted.</p>
+
+<p>"What noise?" he asked.</p>
+
+<p>"I thought I heard Godfrey's whistle&mdash;there is a noise he
+makes sometimes".... Her face seemed paralysed with fear and
+dislike&mdash;involuntarily, she drew nearer to Osmond. "If he should have
+heard me!" she breathed, with her mouth close to his ear.</p>
+
+<p>"How could he hurt you when I am with you?" cried he, passionately. "My
+darling, my own, you are quite safe with me!"</p>
+
+<p>His arms were round her before he had realised what he was doing. It
+seemed his divine right to shield her&mdash;his vocation, his purpose in life
+to come between her and any danger, real or fancied.</p>
+
+<p>A yell, quite unlike anything human&mdash;a rush of loose pebbles and white
+dust, a crash on the path close to the unwary couple, and a long
+discordant peal of laughter.</p>
+
+<p>"Cotched 'em! Cotched 'em! Cotched 'em by all that's lovely! Done 'em
+brown, bowled 'em out clean! Oh, my dears, if you only did know what
+jolly asses you both look, spooning away there like one o'clock! I'm
+hanged if I ever saw anything like it. I wouldn't have missed it&mdash;no,
+not for&mdash;come, I say, let go of a feller, Mr. Allonby. Lovers are fair
+game, don't yer know!"</p>
+
+<p>If ever any man felt enraged it was Osmond at that moment; the more,
+because he saw how undignified it was to be in a rage at all. Revulsion
+of feeling is always unpleasant, and nothing could be more complete than
+the revulsion from the purest of sentiment to the most contemptible of
+practical jokes.</p>
+
+<p>Elsa cried out in a mingled anger and terror&mdash;the ludicrous side of a
+situation never struck her by any chance. Osmond, as he sprang up and
+collared the impudent young miscreant, was divided between a desire to
+storm and a desire to roar with laughter. The former gained the
+ascendency as he looked back at Elsa's white face.</p>
+
+<p>"You impertinent young scamp," he said, between his teeth, "I've a great
+mind to give you such a punishment as you never had in your life, to
+make you remember this day!"</p>
+
+<p>"You daren't," said Godfrey, coolly, "you daren't flog me, I'm delicate.
+You'll have to settle accounts with my uncle if you bring on the
+bleeding from my lungs. My tutor ain't allowed to touch me."</p>
+
+<p>"You sickening little coward&mdash;you sneak," said Osmond, with scathing
+contempt. "A spy&mdash;that's what you are. I hope you are proud of yourself.
+Look how you have startled your sister."</p>
+
+<p>"Pretty little dear&mdash;a great lump, twice my size," sneered Godfrey,
+grinning. "Look at her, blubbing again! She does nothing but blub. Stop
+that, Elaine, will you?"</p>
+
+<p>"All right, young man," said Osmond, "I can't flog you, but I think I
+can take it out of you another way just as well. Don't flatter yourself
+you are going to get off so easily. I'll teach you a lesson of manners,
+and I'll make it my business that the Miss Willoughbys and Mr. Fowler
+know how you have behaved&mdash;not to-day only. You little cur, how dare
+you?"</p>
+
+<p>"Who's old Fowler? He can't touch me. Keep your hair on. What are you
+going to do with me?"</p>
+
+<p>"I'm going to keep you out of mischief for a bit," said Osmond, as he
+skilfully laid the boy down on the grass with one dexterous motion of
+his foot, and, producing two thick straps from his pocket, he proceeded
+to strap first his feet and then his hands together.</p>
+
+<p>"Pooh! What do I care? I've had my fun, and I'm ready to pay for it. Oh,
+my stars, wasn't it rich to hear Elsa coming the injured innocent and
+laying it on thick for her beloved's benefit? I heard every word you
+both said!" cried Godfrey, convulsed with laughter.</p>
+
+<p>"If you say another word, I'll gag you."</p>
+
+<p>"Gag away! I've heard all I want to, and said all I want to, too. Good
+old Allonby, so you believe all the humbug she's been telling you? You
+old silly, don't you know girls always say that sort of thing to draw
+the men on? I told her she ought to bring you to the point to-day.... I
+say ... I can't breathe!"</p>
+
+<p>He was skilfully and rapidly gagged by Osmond, who afterwards picked up
+his prisoner and carried him to a high steep shelf of rock, where he
+laid him down.</p>
+
+<p>"You can cool your heels up there till I come and take you down," he
+said between his teeth. "If you roll over, you'll roll down, and most
+likely break your spine, so I advise you to be quiet, and think of your
+sins."</p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<h2>CHAPTER XXII.</h2>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i14">We walked beside the sea<br /></span>
+<span class="i12">After a day which perished, silently,<br /></span>
+<span class="i12">Of its own glory.<br /></span>
+<span class="i14">Nor moon nor stars were out:<br /></span>
+<span class="i12">They did not dare to tread so soon about,<br /></span>
+<span class="i12">Though trembling in the footsteps of the sun;<br /></span>
+<span class="i12">The light was neither night's nor day's, but one<br /></span>
+<span class="i12">Which, lifelike, had a beauty in its doubt.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i24"><span class="smcap">E. B. Browning.</span><br /></span>
+</div></div>
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+
+<p>On turning his flushed and excited face again towards the seat where he
+had left Elsa, he found that she was gone. It did not surprise him, but
+made him resolve instantly to follow and console her. He wandered about
+for some time amongst the sunny windings of the cliffs before he found
+the object of his search.</p>
+
+<p>She was crouched down on the grass, her face hidden, her whole frame
+shaken with sobs. It brought the tears to his own eyes to witness such
+distress, yet his feeling towards Godfrey was not all anathema. Only
+exceptional circumstances could have enabled him to assume the post of
+comforter, and those circumstances had been brought about by the
+impudent boy.</p>
+
+<p>"Miss Brabourne," he said, gently, looking down at her.</p>
+
+<p>She started, and checked her grief.</p>
+
+<p>"Forgive my intruding," he went on, seating himself on a ledge of cliff
+just above her, "but I have said too much already not to say more. You
+must feel with me, our interview can't be broken off at this point; you
+must hear me out now, and, if I have shattered all my hopes by my
+reckless haste, why, I shall only have myself to thank for it."</p>
+
+<p>She but half heard, and hardly understood him; her whole mind was at
+work on one point.</p>
+
+<p>"What must you think of me?" she cried. "Did you believe it?&mdash;what he
+said of me?"</p>
+
+<p>"Believe it! Believe what?" cried Osmond. "Don't allude to it, please,
+please don't. It makes me lose my temper and feel inclined to rave. I
+heard little that was said; what I did hear could inspire me only with
+one sensation&mdash;anger at his impudence, sympathy for you."</p>
+
+<p>"Then you don't&mdash;believe&mdash;you don't think that I was&mdash;trying to make you
+flirt with me?"</p>
+
+<p>It was out at last, and, having managed to pronounce the words, she
+buried her face in her hands.</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, Elsa!" was all that her lover could say; but the tone of it made
+her lift her humbled head and seek his eyes. Whatever his look, she
+could not meet it; her own sank again, she blushed pitifully, quivered,
+hesitated, finally let him take her hand.</p>
+
+<p>Consciousness was fully awake now. The girl, whose fingers thrilled in
+his own, was a different being from the Elaine who had watched him
+sketching in the lane. She knew that she was a woman, knew also that she
+was beloved. Years of education would never have taught her so
+completely as she was now taught by her lover's eyes.</p>
+
+<p>He began to speak. She listened, in a trance of delight. He begged her
+to forgive his weakness in failing to control his feelings for her. Poor
+fellow, he was lowly enough to satisfy an empress. He knew that he had
+no right to speak of love to this girl who had seen no men, had no
+experience of life. He felt that he had taken an unfair advantage of her
+ignorance, and the thought tortured his pride. He would not ask her if
+she returned his love, still less demand of her any promise; he should
+go to Edge Willoughby that very night, he said, and apologise to her
+aunts for his unguarded behavior. He loved her dearly, devotedly. In a
+year's time he would come and tell her so again. But not yet. He was
+poor, and he could not brook that anyone should think he wanted a rich
+wife, though, as has been said, his knowledge of Elaine's prospects was
+by no means so minute as Claud Cranmer's. All his passion, all his
+regret, were faltered forth; and the result was, to his utter
+astonishment, a burst of indignation from his lady-love.</p>
+
+<p>He did not believe her&mdash;could not trust her! Oh, she had thought that
+he, at least, understood her, but she was wrong, of course! He, like
+everyone else, thought her a foolish child, incapable of judging, or
+knowing her own mind.</p>
+
+<p>"Do you think that I have no feeling?" she asked, pitifully. "Do you
+think that I can bear to have you leave me next week, and go back to
+London and never be able to so much as hear from you, to know what you
+are doing, or if you still think of me? How can you love such a creature
+as you think me&mdash;foolish, ignorant, inconstant&mdash;&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>Could it be Elsa who spoke? Elsa, whose lovely face glowed with
+expression and feeling? Her development had indeed been rapid. Lost in
+wonder and admiration, he could not answer her, but remained mutely
+looking at her, till, with a little cry of angry shame, she bounded up
+and ran away from him.</p>
+
+<p>Leaping to his feet, he followed and captured her. Hardly knowing what
+he did, he took her in his arms. Her lovely cheek rested against his
+dark blue flannel coat, she was content to have it so, for the moment
+she believed that she loved him.</p>
+
+<p>The great red sun had rolled into the sea, when the two came up to the
+camping place again. Tea was half over, and they were greeted with a
+derisive chorus. Wyn, however, looked apprehensively at her brother's
+illuminated expression and gleaming eye, and Claud, noting the same
+danger-signals, looked at her, and their eyes met.</p>
+
+<p>"Where is Godfrey?" asked Mr. Fowler.</p>
+
+<p>"Jove, I forgot! I must go and fetch him," cried Osmond, laughing, as he
+ran off.</p>
+
+<p>"Mr. Allonby put him in punishment for behaving so badly," explained
+Elsa, with burning blushes.</p>
+
+<p>"What had he done?" asked Dr. Forbes, with interest.</p>
+
+<p>"He was very rude to Mr. Allonby," she faltered.</p>
+
+<p>"I'm grateful indeed to Allonby for keeping him in order," laughed her
+godfather.</p>
+
+<p>Godfrey appeared in a very cowed state, silent and sulky. His durance
+had been longer and more disagreeable than he had bargained for. He was
+quite determined to be ill if he could, and so wreak vengeance on his
+gaoler; and his evil expression boded ill to poor Elsa, as he passed her
+with a muttered, "You only wait, my lady, that's all!"</p>
+
+<p>The twilight fell so rapidly that tea was obliged to be quickly cleared
+away. It was not so hilarious a meal as dinner had been, for Osmond and
+Elsa were quite silent, and Wyn too absorbed in thinking of them to be
+lively.</p>
+
+<p>They all went down to the shore to wash up the tea-things, and lingered
+there a little, watching the tender violets and crimsons of the west,
+and listening to the soft murmur of the lucid little wavelets which
+hardly broke upon the sand.</p>
+
+<p>Wyn leaned her chin upon her hand&mdash;her favorite attitude&mdash;and watched.
+Jacqueline and young Haldane were busily washing and wiping the same
+plate, an arrangement which seemed to provoke much lively discussion.
+Claud was drying the knives and forks which Hilda handed to him. Osmond
+and Elsa stood apart, doing nothing but look at one another. Wyn hated
+herself for the choking feeling of sadness which possessed her. Osmond
+had been so much to her; now, how would it be? Such jealousy was
+miserable, contemptible, she knew; but the pain of it would not be
+stilled at once.</p>
+
+<p>Henry Fowler appeared, took the knives and forks, and carried them off,
+followed by Hilda. Claud turned, and looked at Wyn.</p>
+
+<p>"What a night," he said.</p>
+
+<p>"Yes."</p>
+
+<p>"Is that all the answer I am to expect?"</p>
+
+<p>"What more can I say? Do you want me to contradict you?"</p>
+
+<p>He was silent, his eyes fixed on the pure reach of sky.</p>
+
+<p>"I wonder why I always feel sad just after sunset?" he remarked, after a
+pause.</p>
+
+<p>"Do you?" said Wyn, quickly.</p>
+
+<p>"Yes; do you?"</p>
+
+<p>"To-night I do."</p>
+
+<p>"I thought so."</p>
+
+<p>"Our holidays are nearly over," said the girl, with a sigh. "I must go
+back to work again. I must utilize my material," she added, a little
+bitterly. "All the splendor of these sunsets must go into the pages of a
+novel, if I can reproduce it."</p>
+
+<p>"It would go better into a poem," said Claud, tossing a pebble into the
+water.</p>
+
+<p>"That is one fault I may venture to say I am without," remarked
+Wynifred. "I never write verses."</p>
+
+<p>"I do; it amounts to a positive vice with me," returned he, coolly.</p>
+
+<p>"I am sure I beg your pardon," she said, confused.</p>
+
+<p>"You need not. It is only a vent. Everyone must have a vent of some
+sort, otherwise the contents of their mind turn sour. Yours is fiction;
+you don't need the puny consolation of verse, which is my only outlet."</p>
+
+<p>"You are very sarcastic."</p>
+
+<p>"So were you."</p>
+
+<p>"If you always take your tone from me&mdash;&mdash;" she began, and stopped.</p>
+
+<p>"I should have my tongue under better control, you were about to add,"
+he suggested.</p>
+
+<p>"Nothing of the sort. I forget what I meant. I am not in a mood for
+rational conversation this evening."</p>
+
+<p>"Nor I. Let us talk nonsense."</p>
+
+<p>"No, thank you. I can't do that well enough to be interesting. Go and
+talk to Mr. Haldane; he studies nonsense as a fine art."</p>
+
+<p>"I accept my dismissal; thank you for giving it so unequivocally," he
+answered, huffily, and, turning on his heel, marched away, and spoke to
+her no more that evening.</p>
+
+<p>Later, when the darkness had fallen, and the company were dispersed to
+their various homes, Henry Fowler, coming from the stable through the
+garden, was arrested by the scent of his guest's cigar, and joined him
+on the rustic seat under the trees.</p>
+
+<p>It was a perfect summer night, moonless, but the whole purple vault of
+heaven powdered with stars.</p>
+
+<p>The garden of Lower House was, of course, like all the land in Edge
+Valley, inclined at an angle of considerably more than forty-five
+degrees, which fact added greatly to its picturesqueness. Right through
+it flowed a brook which dashed over rough stones in a miniature cascade,
+and added its low murmuring rush to the influence of the hour.</p>
+
+<p>Claud sat idly and at ease, smoking a final cigar. It was almost
+midnight, but on such a night it seemed impossible to go to bed.</p>
+
+<p>"What are you thinking of?" asked Henry, as he sat down and struck a
+light.</p>
+
+<p>The match flickered over the young man's moody face; such an expression
+was unusual with the cheerful brother of Lady Mabel. He merely shrugged
+his shoulders in answer to the question.</p>
+
+<p>"The Miss Allonbys are certainly charming girls," said Mr. Fowler, after
+a pause. "The eldest, indeed, is most exceptional."</p>
+
+<p>"You are right there," said Claud, suddenly, as though the remark
+unloosed his tongue. "I don't profess to understand such a nature, I
+must say."</p>
+
+<p>His host looked inquiringly at him, surprised at the irritation of his
+tones.</p>
+
+<p>"If I were a different fellow, I declare to you I'd make her fall in
+love with me," said the young man, vindictively, "if only for the
+pleasure of seeing her become human."</p>
+
+<p>"And why don't you try it, being as you are?" asked Mr. Fowler,
+composedly, after a brief interval of astonishment. "Why this uncalled
+for modesty? Is it on account of your one defect, or because you have
+only one?"</p>
+
+<p>Claud laughed, and flushed a little under cover of the friendly gloom.</p>
+
+<p>"Miss Allonby is too near perfection to care for it in others," he said,
+with a suspicion of a sneer.</p>
+
+<p>"Indeed? Do you think so? She seems full of faults to me."</p>
+
+<p>His companion turned his head sharply towards him.</p>
+
+<p>"Perhaps I hardly meant faults. I should say&mdash;amiable weakness. I only
+meant to express that to me she seems 'a being not too bright and good
+for human nature's daily food.' I am such a recluse, Mr. Cranmer, I must
+of necessity study my Wordsworth."</p>
+
+<p>Claud was silent for a long time, and only the harmonious rushing of the
+brook broke the hush.</p>
+
+<p>"Is that the idea she gives you?" he asked, at length. "Shall I tell you
+what I think of her? That she is incapable of passion, and so unfit for
+her century."</p>
+
+<p>"Incapable of passion," said the elder man, slowly, "and so safe from
+the knowledge of infinite pain. For her sake I almost wish it were so.
+Have you read her books?"</p>
+
+<p>"Yes."</p>
+
+<p>"Don't you think the passion in them rings true?"</p>
+
+<p>"True enough; she has wasted it there. There is her real world. I&mdash;we&mdash;"
+he corrected himself very hastily&mdash;"are only shadows."</p>
+
+<p>"I think that remark of yours is truer than you know," said Mr. Fowler.
+"I am sure that Miss Allonby lives in a dream&mdash;&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>"But you think she could be awakened?"</p>
+
+<p>"If you could fuse her ideal with the real. I read a poem in the volume
+of Browning you lent me the other day. It told of a man who set himself
+to imagine the form of the woman he loved standing before him in the
+room. He summoned to his mind's eyes every detail of her personal
+appearance,&mdash;her dress, her expression,&mdash;till the power of his will
+brought the real woman to stand where the fancied shape had been. It is
+not altogether a pleasant poem, but it reminded me of her, in a way. She
+is standing, I conjecture, with her eyes and her heart fixed on an
+ideal. If a real man could take its place, he would know what the
+character of Wynifred Allonby really is. No other mortal ever will."</p>
+
+<p>Claud smoked on for a minute or two in silence; then, taking his cigar
+from his mouth, he broke off the ash carefully against the sole of his
+boot.</p>
+
+<p>"Your estimate of her is practically worthless," he remarked, "because
+you are supposing her to be consistent, which you know is an
+impossibility. No woman is consistent; if they were, not one in a
+hundred would ever marry at all. Who do you suppose ever married her
+ideal?"</p>
+
+<p>"You are right, then," said his companion, thoughtfully. "The
+adaptability of woman is marvellous. Mercifully for us. But I have a
+fancy that the lady in question is an exception to most rules. One is so
+apt to argue from something taken for granted, and therefore most likely
+incorrect. We start here from the assumption that a girl's ideal is an
+ideal of perfection&mdash;a thing that never could be realized; and I should
+imagine that to be true in the majority of instances. But it's my idea
+that Miss Allonby has too much insight to build herself such a
+sand-castle. The hero of her novel is just a moderately intelligent man
+of the present day, with his faults fearlessly catalogued&mdash;he is no
+sentimental abstraction. And yet I am sure that he is not a man she has
+met, but a man she hopes to meet. That is to say, I am sure she had not
+met him when she wrote the book, but I see no reason why she should not
+come across him some day."</p>
+
+<p>Claud made a restless movement. He tossed away the end of the cigar,
+threw himself back on the garden-seat, and locked his hands behind his
+head.</p>
+
+<p>"The modern girl," he observed, "is complicated."</p>
+
+<p>"Perhaps that is what makes her so interesting," said Mr. Fowler.</p>
+
+<p>"Is she interesting&mdash;to you?"</p>
+
+<p>"She is most interesting&mdash;to me," was the ready rejoinder.</p>
+
+<p>There was no answer. In the dim starlight the elder man studied the face
+of the younger. He thought Claud Cranmer was better-looking than he had
+previously considered him. There was something sweet in the expression
+of his mouth, something lovable in the questioning gaze of his blue-grey
+eyes.</p>
+
+<p>The silence was broken by the fretful barking of Spot, Claud's
+fox-terrier. He roused himself from his reverie.</p>
+
+<p>"What's up with that little beggar now, I wonder?" he said, as he rose,
+half-absently, and sauntered over the bridge.</p>
+
+<p>"Spot! Spot! Come here! Stop that row, can't you?"</p>
+
+<p>He vanished gradually among the shadows, and Henry Fowler was left
+alone.</p>
+
+<p>"Is he in love with her, or is he not?" he dreamily asked himself. "Talk
+of the complications of the modern girl&mdash;there's no getting to the
+bottom of the modern young man. I don't believe he knows himself."</p>
+
+<p>He caught his breath with something like a sigh of regret for an
+irreclaimable past.</p>
+
+<p>"I almost wish I were young again, with a heart and a future to lay at
+her feet!"</p>
+
+<p>It was the nearest he had ever come to a treason against the memory of
+Alice Willoughby. Love in his early days had seemed such a different
+thing&mdash;meaning just the protecting, reverential fondness of what was in
+every sense strong for what was in every sense weak. Now it went so far
+deeper&mdash;it included so many emotions, some of them almost conflicting.
+Physically&mdash;in strength, size, and experience&mdash;Wynifred was his
+inferior. Intellectually, though she had read more books than he, he
+felt that they were equals. But there was a fine inner fibre&mdash;a
+something to which he could not give a name&mdash;an insight, a delicacy of
+hers which soared far above him. Something which was more than sex,
+which no intimacy could remove or weaken&mdash;a power of spirit, a loftiness
+which was new in his experience of women.</p>
+
+<p>The men of his day had taken it for granted that woman, however
+charming, was <i>small</i>; they had smiled indulgently at pretty airs and
+graces, at miniature spites. They had thought it only natural that these
+captivating creatures should pout and fret if disappointed of a new
+gown, should shriek at a spider, go into hysterics if thwarted, and deny
+the beauty of their good-looking female friends. Such a being as this
+naturally called forth a different species of homage from that demanded
+by a Wynifred Allonby, to whom everything mean, or cramped, or trivial
+was as foreign as it was to Henry Fowler himself. It was not that she
+resisted the impulse to be small; it was not in her nature; she could no
+more be spiteful than a horse could scratch; she had been framed
+otherwise.</p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<h2>CHAPTER XXIII.</h2>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i12">And I said&mdash;Is this the sky, all grey and silver-suited?<br /></span>
+<span class="i12">And I said&mdash;Is this the sea, that lies so pale and wan?<br /></span>
+<span class="i12">I have dreamed, as I remember&mdash;give me time, I was reputed<br /></span>
+<span class="i12">Once to have a steady courage&mdash;now, I fear, 'tis gone!<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i24"><i>Requiescat in Pace.</i><br /></span>
+</div></div>
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+
+<p>Claud sat somewhat despondently at Mr. Fowler's side in the tall
+dog-cart as they spun along the lanes from Stanton back to Lower House.
+Their errand had been to convey some of the Allonbys' luggage to the
+station, and see the family off to London.</p>
+
+<p>They were gone; and the two gentlemen who had just seen the last of them
+were both silent, for different reasons: Claud, because he was resenting
+the indifference of Wynifred's manner, and Henry, because he was
+secretly angry with Claud. He did not understand so much beating about
+the bush. Naturally Mr. Cranmer could not afford to marry an entirely
+portionless wife; very well, then he ought to have packed his
+portmanteau and taken his departure long ago, instead of following Miss
+Allonby hither and thither, engaging her in conversation whenever he
+could secure her attention, and generally behaving as though seriously
+attracted&mdash;risking the girl's happiness, Mr. Fowler called it. To be
+sure the conversations seemed usually to end in a wrangle; there was
+nothing tender in them. Wynifred's serenity of aspect was unruffled when
+Claud approached, and she never appeared to regret him when he departed
+in dudgeon. A secret wonder as to whether she could have refused him
+suggested itself, but was rejected as unlikely. Still the master of
+Lower House was not accustomed to see young people on such odd terms
+together; and it vexed him.</p>
+
+<p>The last fortnight of the young artist's stay at Edge had been full of
+excitement; for Osmond had made full confession to the Misses Willoughby
+of his love and his imprudent declaration. The good ladies passed
+through more violent phases of feeling than had been theirs for years.
+Astonishment, fright, excitement, a vague triumph in the subjugation of
+the tall, handsome young man had struggled for the mastery in their
+hearts. Finally they had called in Mr. Fowler to arbitrate.</p>
+
+<p>He came to the conclusion which Osmond felt certain that he would,
+namely: that Elsa could not yet know her own mind. She must be left for
+a year, at least, to gain some knowledge of society; he would not hear
+of her binding herself by any promise.</p>
+
+<p>As to young Allonby, he had personally no objection in the world to him.
+He both liked and respected him, though unable to help feeling sorry
+that he had so prematurely disclosed his love to the girl. He would
+gladly see him engaged to her as soon as ever he could show that it was
+in his power to maintain her in the position to which she was born.
+But, on descending to practical details, it seemed to poor Osmond that
+it might be years before he could claim to be the possessor even of a
+clear five hundred a-year, unencumbered by sisters. Wynifred sympathized
+with him so deeply as to make her preoccupied during all her last days
+at Edge. Claud Cranmer's vagaries could not be so important as her
+darling brother's happiness. Though the engagement was not allowed, yet
+the attitude of the Misses Willoughby was anything but hostile. Osmond
+was a favorite with all, and Miss Ellen was privately determined that
+if, when Elsa was twenty-one, want of money should be the only barrier
+to their happiness, she should consent to the marriage, and make them a
+yearly allowance, with the understanding that all came to them at the
+death of the sisters. But first it was only just that Osmond should be
+for a time on probation, that they might see of what stuff he was made;
+and communication could be kept up by means of a correspondence between
+Elsa and Jacqueline, who had struck up something of a friendship, as
+girls will.</p>
+
+<p>It was now finally settled that Elsa should go to London in November,
+spend a month or two with Lady Mabel, and then a short time with the
+Ortons. In London she would naturally meet the Allonbys, and this
+delightful consideration went far to dry the passionate tears she shed
+on the departure of her lover.</p>
+
+<p>During the fortnight which had elapsed since the picnic, there had been
+an ominous calm on the part of Godfrey. His two or three hours'
+detention on the cliffs had given him a wholesome awe of Osmond, and
+each day afterwards he had been so meek that everyone was beginning to
+hope that he was not so black as he was painted.</p>
+
+<p>Osmond, to show he bore no malice, had taken pains to have the boy
+included in all their expeditions; so that he remarked one day to Elsa:</p>
+
+<p>"Allonby's not half a bad fellow, and I'm hanged if I ever lift a finger
+to help him to marry a wretched little sneak like you. If you'd been
+anything like decently behaved to me, I'd have settled some of my
+fortune on you, but now I'd sooner give him ten thousand down to let you
+alone. I should like him to know what sort you are; but the jolliest
+fellows are fools when they're in love."</p>
+
+<p>"What money have you got that I haven't, I should like to know?" Elsa
+had retorted, unwisely. "I am the eldest&mdash;I ought to have the most."</p>
+
+<p>"Jupiter! D'you mean to say the old girls have never told you that our
+papa left me all the cash? Quite the right thing, too. What's a girl to
+do with money? Only brings a set of crawling fortune-hunters round her.
+But, if you'd been anything like, I'd have settled something handsome on
+you when I come of age; as it is, you won't get one penny out of me."</p>
+
+<p>"I don't believe a word you say!"</p>
+
+<p>"All right; but you'd better be careful how you cheek me. I'm going to
+pay you out for all the lies you told Allonby about me. I haven't
+forgotten. You just keep your weather-eye open, my lady. You'll get
+something you won't fancy, I can tell you."</p>
+
+<p>From this menace, Elsa went straight to her Aunt Ellen, to ask if it was
+true that all her father's fortune was left to Godfrey. In great concern
+at her having been told, Miss Ellen was obliged to own that it was so,
+though she still concealed the fact that flagrant injustice had been
+done, the money so bequeathed having all come to Colonel Brabourne
+through his first wife. This part of the story, however, was gleefully
+supplied by Godfrey, who had been lying in ambush outside the door to
+jeer at her as she came out.</p>
+
+<p>"Well, ain't it true? Eh? I don't tell so many crackers as you, you see.
+And the joke of it is that all the money came from your mother, and now
+my mother's son has got it. My! weren't the old aunts in a state, too?
+You should hear my Uncle Fred on the subject! But if your mother was
+like these old cats I'm sure my papa must have been jolly glad to be
+quit of her!"</p>
+
+<p>Elsa darted at him with a cry of rage, but he saved himself by flight.
+If anything had been wanting to fill the cup of her hatred to the brim,
+here it was. Had it not been for this child, she would have been
+rich&mdash;very rich. She would have been able to marry Osmond, to have a
+large fine house in London, to have her gowns cut like Lady Mabel's, and
+to possess necklaces, lace, jewels, and all things beautiful in
+profusion.</p>
+
+<p>He had stolen her fortune, insulted her mother, humiliated herself. The
+violence of her wrath and rancour were beyond all limits, and she had
+never been taught self control. She loathed Godfrey; the very sight of
+him choked her; she could scarcely swallow food when he was at the
+table; yet she had no thought of appealing to her aunts. She had never
+received sympathy in all her life&mdash;why should she expect it now?</p>
+
+<p>Such was the state of things at Edge Willoughby. The stagnant days of
+yore, when existence merely flowed quietly on from hour to hour, were no
+more. The spell was broken, the prince had kissed and wakened the
+sleeping beauty&mdash;human passion had rushed in upon the passionless calm,
+the tide of life from the outer world was flowing, flowing in the fresh
+breeze.</p>
+
+<p>Partly on all these changes was Mr. Cranmer meditating as they drove
+back to Lower House in the dulness of an autumn afternoon.</p>
+
+<p>The weather was threatening, the sea of that strange, thick, lurid
+tinge, which suggests a disturbance somewhere under the surface. The
+gulls skimmed low, with strange cries, over the sluggish heaving water.
+He thought of the hot bright day of the picnic, when the young gulls
+were not yet flown, and when their wild laughter echoed along the
+nest-riddled cliff walls.</p>
+
+<p>A melancholy feeling was upon him, that the year was broken and gone,
+that there would be no more fair weather, no more violet and amber and
+crimson in the west.</p>
+
+<p>To-morrow he was to leave the valley and go north to shoot over a
+friend's moor in Scotland. It was the best thing he could do, he told
+himself. There would be plenty of society, such different society from
+that he had known of late. There would be women of his set, women who
+spoke the social shibboleths he knew. There would be bleak moorland and
+dark grey rock, which would not seem so horribly at variance with cold
+weather as did this Valley of Avilion; for the whole party, taking their
+cue from Osmond, had been wont to speak of Edge always as Avilion.</p>
+
+<p>At Ardnacruan he felt certain that he would regain his normal serenity,
+his cheerful from-day-to-day enjoyment of life; but this afternoon all
+influences seemed combined to make him experience that nameless feeling
+of misery and loss which the Germans call <i>katzenjammer</i>. The first
+verse of "James Lee's Wife" was saying itself over and over in his
+head, and he could not forget it. The mare's feet, in their even trot,
+kept time to it, the rolling of the wheels formed a sad, monotonous
+accompaniment.</p>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">"Ah, love, but a day,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And the world has changed!<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The sun's away<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And the bird estranged.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The wind has dropped<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And the sky's deranged,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Summer has stopped."<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+<p>He wished he had had the sense to leave the place a day before instead
+of a day after the Allonbys. He knew that he had been due at Ardnacruan
+on Tuesday, and to-day was Thursday. Why on earth had he been so
+idiotic, so weak, so altogether contemptible?</p>
+
+<p>Well, it was over now, and he meant for the future to possess his soul,
+untroubled by any distressing emotions; and, meanwhile, the thoughts of
+Wynifred, as she sat in the train, steaming towards London, were almost
+exactly a reproduction of his own.</p>
+
+<p>Every turn of the lanes through which they drove brought back to Claud a
+memory of something which had taken place during the past summer. Here
+was a view they had admired together&mdash;here the quaint old gateway,
+half-way down the hill which Wynifred had sketched, the lane sloping so
+abruptly that the back legs of her camp-stool had to be artificially
+supported. In that field Hilda and Jac had laid out tea, and the whole
+party had enjoyed a warm discussion on the subject of family
+shibboleths. It began by Hilda's remarking that poor old Osmond could
+hardly be looked upon as a war-horse any longer; and, on being pressed
+to unravel this dark saying, she had explained with some confusion, that
+<i>war-horse</i> had been Jac's translation of <i>hors de combat</i> at a very
+early age, and that they had always used it since, which led on to
+various other specimens from nursery dictionaries, and much amusing
+nonsense. It was all past now.</p>
+
+<p>In Claud's mind was a bitter thought which has countless times occurred
+to most of us, that the past is absolutely irreclaimable. We can never
+have our good minute again; it is gone. He knew the mood would pass, but
+that did not lessen the suffering while it lasted. Would he ever regret
+the days that were gone, with a regret that should be lifelong&mdash;was it
+possible that an hour might dawn in the far future when he should be
+prepared to give all to have that time again, that he might yield to the
+impulses of his heart, and speak as he felt?</p>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">"It will come, I suspect, at the end of life,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">When you sit alone and review the past."<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+<p>What nonsense!</p>
+
+<p>As the dog-cart shot in through the gates of Lower House, he shook
+himself, and roused from his morbid reverie.</p>
+
+<p>"How conversational we have both been!" he said, with a laugh.</p>
+
+<p>"Yes," said Henry, gazing round with a sad expression in his kind eyes.
+"We miss those merry girls."</p>
+
+<p>"They seem to enjoy life," observed Claud.</p>
+
+<p>"Yes, indeed; and what makes it so fascinating is the assurance one
+always has of there being a solid foundation under all that fun. Many
+girls with twice their social advantages have not one half their fresh
+enjoyment."</p>
+
+<p>"I believe you are right," was the answer, with a sigh which did not
+escape the other.</p>
+
+<p>"We must not moralise," said the master of Lower House, briskly. "The
+day is dull, but don't let us follow its example. Would you care to walk
+to Edge Willoughby, take tea, and make your adieux?"</p>
+
+<p>"Thanks&mdash;yes&mdash;I think I should. They have been most hospitable."</p>
+
+<p>"Take a mackintosh," said Mr. Fowler, who had been surveying the
+threatening horizon; "we are going to have a bad night, I believe."</p>
+
+<p>As he spoke, a ray of sunset light, darting through a rift in the watery
+sky, fell on a gleaming white sail some distance out at sea. It recalled
+to Claud his walk home to Poole with Wynifred.</p>
+
+<p>"A yacht, a cutter," said his companion, with anxious interest. "She
+will never be able to make Lyme harbor to-night."</p>
+
+<p>They watched the flashing thing for a minute or two in silence; then the
+rainy gleam faded from the sea, and the sail became again invisible.</p>
+
+<p>They set off for Edge Willoughby, a short ten minutes walk.</p>
+
+<p>Each now made an effort to converse, but with poor success. As they
+passed at the foot of a hill, crowned and flanked with arches, there
+was a rustling noise, and out into the path before them lightly sprang
+Elsa.</p>
+
+<p>Claud had never seen her look more beautiful or more strange. Something
+in her expression arrested his eye.</p>
+
+<p>Since her friendship with the Allonby girls, her whole wardrobe had
+become regenerated, and the beautiful proportions of her fine figure
+were no longer obscured by ill-fitting monstrosities. Her dress was dark
+blue, so was her hat, and she had knotted a soft crimson shawl over her
+chest. The buffetting wind had lent a magnificent glow to her skin, her
+eyes were shining&mdash;she had altogether an excited look, as though her
+feelings had been strongly worked upon.</p>
+
+<p>"Why, where have you been, Elsa?" asked her godfather, as they greeted
+her.</p>
+
+<p>"Out for a ramble," she answered, evasively.</p>
+
+<p>"And what direction did your rambles take?"</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, I went here and there. Are you coming to see my aunts?"</p>
+
+<p>"We are; we will walk with you as far as the house. Where's Godfrey?"</p>
+
+<p>She looked up at him&mdash;an odd, half defiant look.</p>
+
+<p>"At home, I suppose," she said.</p>
+
+<p>They had not gone far when suddenly, violently, down came the rain, and
+Claud hurriedly covering the girl in his mackintosh, they all took to
+their heels, and ran to the friendly shelter of the house.</p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<h2>CHAPTER XXIV.</h2>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i12">Walked up and down, and still walked up and down,<br /></span>
+<span class="i12">And I walked after, and one could not hear<br /></span>
+<span class="i12">A word the other said, for wind and sea<br /></span>
+<span class="i12">That raged and beat and thundered in the night.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i24"><i>Brothers and a Sermon.</i><br /></span>
+</div></div>
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+
+<p>The door was flung wide open by Jane Gollop, who had been anxiously on
+the alert.</p>
+
+<p>"Miss Elaine! Well, to be sure! It's a good thing, that it is, as you
+happened to meet Mr. Fowler! Why&mdash;you ain't got wet, not hardly a drop,
+more you 'ave. But where's Master Godfrey?"</p>
+
+<p>"I don't know," said Elsa, shortly.</p>
+
+<p>"You don't know," said Jane, in accents of astonishment. "Why, where did
+you leave him?"</p>
+
+<p>"Hasn't he come in?" asked the girl, in a hard kind of way; and, as she
+spoke, loosening her hat, she went to the mirror which hung against the
+wall of the hall, and passed her hand lightly through the soft masses of
+her hair, slightly dampened by the drenching shower. It was such a new
+trait in her&mdash;this attention to appearances&mdash;that Mr. Fowler gazed at
+her in sheer astonishment. Her beauty as she stood there was simply
+wonderful. Claud, eyeing her with all his might, was at a loss for a
+reason why he was not in love with her. Her style was not a common one
+among English girls&mdash;it was too sumptuous, too splendid. Though
+absolutely a blonde, the lashes which shaded her eyes were dark as
+night. Her complexion was a miracle of warmth and creamy fairness; and
+now that the final charm had come&mdash;that conscious life had permeated her
+being&mdash;the slowness of her movements, the comparative rarity of her
+speech, were charms of a most fascinating description. She was just
+beginning to understand what power was hers. It seemed as if the thought
+expressed itself in the faint smile, the regal grace with which the hand
+was lifted to the golden coronal of hair. She was absolutely exquisite,
+and yet Claud's only thought concerning her was an inward foreboding of
+the mischief she would work in London.</p>
+
+<p>"Did you and Godfrey go out together?" asked Mr. Fowler at length.</p>
+
+<p>The shadow fell over the lovely face again.</p>
+
+<p>"Yes," she answered shortly.</p>
+
+<p>"And where did you part company?" he went on, somewhat anxiously.</p>
+
+<p>"I&mdash;I don't know, quite&mdash;I forget."</p>
+
+<p>"I expect they've a bin quarrelling again, sir," observed Jane, with
+severity. "I do not know how it is as Miss Elaine can never get on with
+her brother at all. I'm sure I never see nothing to complain so about&mdash;a
+bit wild and rude, as most young gentlemen is, but&mdash;&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>"Godfrey behaves exceedingly ill," said Mr. Fowler, shortly. "Did you
+have a quarrel, Elsa?"</p>
+
+<p>"Yes, we did. I will never go out with him again, as long as I live,"
+said Elsa, quietly.</p>
+
+<p>"And you parted company?"</p>
+
+<p>"Yes. I ran away from him. My aunts have no right to send him out with
+me." Her face worked, and tears sprang to her eyes. "He insults my
+mother," she said, with a sob.</p>
+
+<p>Her god-father's brow grew darker.</p>
+
+<p>"Never mind, Elsa," he said, in a voice of much feeling. "Let us hope he
+will grow better as he grows older; he is but a little chap."</p>
+
+<p>"I wish I need never set eyes on him again, as long as I live," she
+said, in a low voice, audible to him alone.</p>
+
+<p>"Hush, child! But now, the fact remains that the storm is awful, and
+that, as far as I can make out, the boy is out in it. What is to be
+done? Come and let us tell the aunts."</p>
+
+<p>They entered the dining-room, where tea was already spread out in
+tempting guise. The Misses Willoughby turned to greet their guests, and
+Miss Charlotte in some anxiety demanded,</p>
+
+<p>"Where is Godfrey?"</p>
+
+<p>Her perturbation was great when the situation was explained.</p>
+
+<p>"My dear Mr. Fowler! That young child&mdash;so delicate too! Out in this
+storm of rain! He will never find his way home, it will be dark
+directly! What shall I do? Penton must be sent after him. Elsa, tell me
+at once where you left him."</p>
+
+<p>The crimson color mounted to Elsa's brow.</p>
+
+<p>"I&mdash;I don't exactly remember&mdash;I wasn't taking much notice," she
+faltered.</p>
+
+<p>"But which direction did you take? At least you can inform me of that. I
+am sure it is hard to believe that any girl of your age could be so
+foolish; speak!"</p>
+
+<p>"We went along the Quarry Road," said Elsa, slowly, her eyes fixed on
+Claud, who stood looking at the ground.</p>
+
+<p>"And where then?"</p>
+
+<p>"We were going to Hooken for blackberries, but I thought it looked like
+rain, so I turned back."</p>
+
+<p>"And Godfrey did not accompany you?"</p>
+
+<p>A pause.</p>
+
+<p>"No."</p>
+
+<p>"He must have gone on to Brent," said Miss Charlotte, with conviction.</p>
+
+<p>Brent was the tiny fishing-village which lay in a curve of the cliff
+between Edge Valley and Stanton.</p>
+
+<p>"Does Godfrey know his way to Brent?" asked Mr. Fowler of Elsa.</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, yes&mdash;he often goes there&mdash;to the 'Welcome Traveller,'" she
+answered.</p>
+
+<p>"I think he is most probably there now," said he, turning to Miss
+Charlotte, "and, if so, you may be easy, they will not send him home in
+this tempest."</p>
+
+<p>"But he is very wilful, he may insist on trying to come home, and, if
+so, he will be lost, he could never stand against the wind across the
+top of Hooken," said Miss Charlotte, full of apprehension.</p>
+
+<p>Her attachment to Godfrey was a forcible illustration of the
+capriciousness of love. There had been every reason why she should
+dislike him, she had been fully prepared to do so. She had never seen
+one single trait in him to induce her to alter this preconceived
+opinion; he had openly derided her and set her authority at naught ever
+since their first meeting, yet she was fond of him.</p>
+
+<p>Her looks testified the deepest concern. As the scream of the storm-wind
+dashed against the window of the warm, comfortable room, she shivered.</p>
+
+<p>"Elsa," she cried, "how dared you leave that child out by himself? You
+are not to be trusted in the least! Where did you leave him&mdash;answer
+me&mdash;was it on the cliffs?"</p>
+
+<p>"No!" cried Elsa, sharply, "it was not. He would not be likely to go by
+the cliffs, it is twice as long, you know it is. He went along the
+Quarry Road, I tell you. He is gone to Brent."</p>
+
+<p>"Make yourself easy, Miss Charlotte," said Mr. Fowler, "he is not likely
+to try the cliff road home in weather like this. He will come by the
+quarries, if they let him come at all. How long had you parted from him
+when we met you, Elsa?"</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, more than an hour, I should think."</p>
+
+<p>"There, you see! He is as safely sheltered as we are by now!"</p>
+
+<p>Miss Charlotte went restlessly to the window.</p>
+
+<p>"I am anxious; he is so delicate, and so rash," she said. "I shall send
+Penton out along the Quarry Road."</p>
+
+<p>"I will walk to Brent and back for you, Miss Willoughby," said Claud, in
+his quiet way.</p>
+
+<p>"My dear fellow," said Henry Fowler, "you will scarcely keep your feet."</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, nonsense about that. I'm all right&mdash;I have my mackintosh here. I
+enjoy a good sou'-wester."</p>
+
+<p>"I'll come with you," said Henry at once.</p>
+
+<p>Of course the ladies protested, but the gentlemen were firm; and, having
+first taken something to keep the cold out, they started forth into all
+the excitement of a furious gale on the Devonshire coast.</p>
+
+<p>Once fairly out in it, Claud felt that he would not have missed it for
+worlds. There was such a stimulus in the seething motion of the
+atmosphere, such a weird fascination in the screaming of the blast and
+the hoarse roaring of the distant ocean.</p>
+
+<p>"This is rather a wild-goose chase," yelled Henry in his companion's
+ear.</p>
+
+<p>"Never mind; what's the odds so long as we can set their minds at rest,"
+bawled Claud in return.</p>
+
+<p>"Naught comes to no harm&mdash;the young imp is all right enough," howled
+Henry; and then, having strained their vocal chords to the utmost, any
+further attempt at conversation was given up as impossible.</p>
+
+<p>They passed the narrow gorge where the mouth of the quarries lay and
+where the limekilns cast a weird gloom upon the night. The streaming
+rain hissed and fizzed as it fell upon the glowing surface, and,
+altogether, Claud thought, the whole scene was something like the last
+act of the <i>Walk�re</i>&mdash;he almost felt as if he could hear the passionate
+shiver of Wagnerian violins in the rush of the mighty tempest.</p>
+
+<p>In the low, sheltered road, they could just manage to keep their feet.
+Every now and then they paused, and shouted Godfrey's name at the utmost
+pitch of their voices; but they heard no response; and at last staggered
+down the little stony high street of Brent, without having met a single
+soul.</p>
+
+<p>Usually the narrow street was musical with the murmur of the stream that
+flowed down its midst. To-night the storm-fiend overpowered all such
+gentle sounds. Claud, blindly stumbling in the dark, managed to go over
+his ankles in running water, but quickly regained his footing, and was
+right glad when the lights of the "Welcome, Traveller," streamed out
+upon the gloom.</p>
+
+<p>They swung open the door. The bar was deserted, and Mr. Fowler's call
+only brought a female servant from the kitchen. Every soul in the town,
+she told them, was down at the quay&mdash;the word to haul up the boats had
+been cried through the village at dusk, and now the gale had come, and
+the fishing smacks had not come in.</p>
+
+<p>Claud remembered how they had sat on the cliff black berrying only two
+days before, and watched the fishermen start, how the boats with their
+graceful red brown sails had danced and dipped on the sparkling blue
+water, alive with diamond reflections of the broad sun.</p>
+
+<p>And now&mdash;the cruel, crawling foam, the black abyss of howling
+destruction, and the frantic wives assembled on the quay, watching "for
+those who will never come back to the town."</p>
+
+<p>The inn servant was positive that Master Brabourne had not been in Brent
+that afternoon or evening, but Mr. Fowler, not quite relying on the
+accuracy of her statement, determined to make his way down to the shore.</p>
+
+<p>The village was congested with excitement, as they approached they could
+dimly descry a dark crowd and tossing lanterns, and could hear the
+terrific thunder of the billows as they burst upon the beach. Then,
+suddenly, as they hurried on, up through the murky night rushed a
+rocket, a streak of vivid light, that struck on the heart like the cry
+of a human voice for help. Another&mdash;another&mdash;it was clear that some
+frantic feeling agitated the swaying crowd. As Claud dashed forward, he
+uttered a short exclamation.</p>
+
+<p>"The yacht!"</p>
+
+<p>"Good God, yes, it must be!" cried Henry Fowler in horror.</p>
+
+<p>In a moment they were down in the thick of it all, seizing the arm of
+one of the weatherbeaten fellows present, and asking what was amiss?</p>
+
+<p>It was the yacht, as Claud had divined, and, when her exact situation
+had been explained to him, he felt his heart fail at the thought of her
+deadly peril, at the (to him) new sensation of standing within a few
+yards of a band of living human beings hovering over the wide spread
+jaws of death.</p>
+
+<p>Brent lay in a break of the chalk cliffs which was more then
+half-a-mile in width. Through this tunnel the unbroken might of the wind
+rushed with terrific force, sweeping vehemently inland up the flat
+river-valley, and seeming to carry the whole sea in its train. The very
+violence of each wave, as it broke, made the bystanders stagger back a
+few paces; the tide was rolling in with a rapidity which seemed
+miraculous; already it had driven them back almost as far as the
+market-place, and it was not yet high water.</p>
+
+<p>There was but one hope for the strange vessel. Change of tide had been
+known to bring change of wind; therein lay her solitary chance. If, with
+the ebb, the wind shifted its quarter and kept her off shore, the sea
+was not too heavy for her to live in; but if no change took place&mdash;if
+the waves continued to roll in for another hour as they were rolling
+now, with that screaming blast lashing them on as though the Eumenides
+were behind them, no change of tide could avail&mdash;no ebb could save the
+cutter from being driven on the sunken coast-rocks, and from being
+steadily beaten to pieces.</p>
+
+<p>Was there a chance? Would it happen, this change of wind for which
+everyone was waiting in such an agony of expectation? In breathless
+horror the young man watched, parting, as he did so, with a few
+delusions he had previously cherished respecting the Devonshire climate.
+He had held a vague belief that storm and tempest were the portion only
+of "wild Tintagel on the Cornish coast," and that here, among the warm
+red cliffs, no roaring billows lifted their heads. He had now to hear
+how, once upon a time, the inhabitants of Brent built themselves a
+harbor and a pier, and how in one night the sea tore them up, dashed
+them to pieces, and bore the fragments far inland; and of how the
+Spanish wrecks were hurled so frequently on the coast that the
+fisher-folk intermarried with the refugees, which union resulted in the
+lovely, dark-haired, blue-eyed race whose beauty had so struck Lady
+Mabel Wynch-Fr�re.</p>
+
+<p>Meanwhile, the lifeboat's crew stood with their boat all ready to
+launch, if they could see the smallest hope of making any way in such a
+sea. One old mariner watched the scarcely discernible movements of the
+yacht with a telescope. She was under jib and trysail only, the
+intention of the crew being evidently, if it were possible, to work her
+to windward, and so keep her off shore.</p>
+
+<p>"Them aboard of her knows what to d�," said the old salt, with
+approbation. "They ain't going daown without showing a bit o' fight
+first."</p>
+
+<p>"Why on earth don't they take in all their canvas?" cried the
+inexperienced Claud.</p>
+
+<p>"If they did, they'd come straight in, stem on, and be aground in five
+minutes or less," was the response.</p>
+
+<p>It was difficult, however, to see of what possible use any amount of
+knowledge of navigation could be to the fated craft. Slowly she was
+being borne to her doom by the remorseless gale. She pitched and rolled
+every moment nearer and still nearer to the coast&mdash;to the low sunken
+rocks which would grind her to powder, and where no lifeboat could reach
+her.</p>
+
+<p>The women prayed aloud, with sobs and shrieks of sympathy. To Claud it
+was like a chapter in a novel, a scene in a play. He had never before
+seen real people&mdash;people in whose midst he stood&mdash;go mad with pity and
+terror. He had never before heard women cry out, as these did, straight
+to the Great Father in their need.</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, Lord Christ, save 'em! Have mercy on 'em, poor souls!" screamed an
+old fishwife at his side, bent with age and infirmity.</p>
+
+<p>It seemed as if he could hardly do better than silently echo her prayer:</p>
+
+<p>"God save all poor souls lost in the dark!"</p>
+
+<p>The moments of suspense lengthened. The knot of spectators held their
+breath. It would be high water directly, and the gale was still driving
+in the frantic sea, boiling and eddying. The night was cleft by the
+momentary gleam of another rocket sent up from the yacht. Though
+evidently terribly distressed, she did not seem disabled, and rose from
+crest to crest of the mountainous rollers with a marvellous lightness.
+It was easy to see that she surprised all the old salts who were
+watching her. As she rolled nearer, her proportions were dimly to be
+seen. In the gloom she seemed like a great quivering white bird,
+palpitating and throbbing as if alive and sentient.</p>
+
+<p>"Eh, what a beauty, what a beauty! What a cruel shame if she is lost,"
+gasped one of the men in tones of real anguish.</p>
+
+<p>Then, suddenly, from further along the crowd came a shout faintly heard
+above the storm. Claud could not distinguish the words, but a vague
+sense of atmospheric change came over him. A manifest sensation ran
+through the assembly; and it seemed as if there were a momentary
+cessation of the blinding gusts of spray which had drenched him.</p>
+
+<p>A fresh stillness fell on the crowd, broken only by the sobbing
+whistling of the wind, which faltered, died down, burst forth again, and
+then seemed to go wailing off over the sea.</p>
+
+<p>What had happened? Claud steadied his nerves and looked round
+bewildered. Surely that wave which broke was not so high as the last. It
+seemed at first as though the ocean had become a whirlpool, as though
+conflicting currents were sucking and eddying among the coast-rocks till
+the force of the tide was broken and divided. He turned to look for
+Henry Fowler, but could not see him. Moving further along the wet track
+left by one of the highest billows on the road, still clutching his cap
+with both hands, he found him presently superintending the lifeboat men,
+who were making a start at last.</p>
+
+<p>There was a faint cheer as the boat was launched, and the receding wave
+carried her down, down, with that ghastly sucking noise which sounds as
+though the deep thirsted for its prey. Claud held his breath. He thought
+the next wave would break over her; but no! The crew bent to their oars,
+and up she rose, in full sight of the eager multitude, then again
+disappeared, only to be seen once more on the summit of a further crest.
+And now there was no question but that the wind was shifting. Silence
+fell on the watchers; silence which lasted long. Breathlessly they eyed
+the dim white yacht, which now did not seem to approach nearer the
+coast.</p>
+
+<p>In the long interval, memory returned to Mr. Cranmer, memory of the
+purpose for which he had come there. Where was Godfrey? Nowhere to be
+seen. Making his way up to Mr. Fowler, he remarked:</p>
+
+<p>"Don't you see anything of the boy?"</p>
+
+<p>Henry gave a start of recollection, and cast his eyes vaguely over the
+crowd. A few minutes' search sufficed to show that Godfrey was not
+there. By the light of a friendly lantern he looked at his watch. It was
+past ten o'clock, and the thought of the anxiety at Edge Willoughby
+smote his conscience.</p>
+
+<p>"We must leave this," he said, reluctantly, "and go back over the top of
+the cliff. It does not rain now, and thank God, the wind is falling."</p>
+
+<p>"Will the yacht live?" asked Claud.</p>
+
+<p>"Yes, please God, she'll do now," answered Henry. "But I daresay the
+crew will come ashore; they have all been very near death; perhaps they
+don't know, as well as I do, how near."</p>
+
+<p>"Do you know the way over the cliff?"</p>
+
+<p>"Know it? I think so. I could walk blindfold over most of the land near
+here," returned the other, drily.</p>
+
+<p>"I do wonder what can have become of the child," said Claud, dubiously.</p>
+
+<p>"Little cur!" said the ordinary gentle Henry, viciously. "I am not at
+all sorry if he has a fair good fright; it may read him a lesson."</p>
+
+<p>Unwillingly they turned from the scene of interest, and began their
+scramble up the chalky slopes, rendered as slippery as ice by the heavy
+rains. Neither had dined that night, and both were feeling exhausted
+after the tension of the last few hours. They walked silently forward,
+each filled with vague forbodings respecting Godfrey.</p>
+
+<p>The wind was still what, inland, would be called a gale, too high to
+make conversation possible. Overhead, rifts in the night-black clouds
+were beginning to appear; the waning moon must be by now above the
+horizon, for the jagged edges of the vapors were silver.</p>
+
+<p>Claud was deeply meditating over his night's experience; it seemed years
+since he parted from Wynifred that afternoon. How much had happened
+since!</p>
+
+<p>His foot struck against something as he walked. Being tired, he was
+walking carelessly, and, as the grass was intensely slippery, he came
+down on his hands and knees, making use of a forcible expression.</p>
+
+<p>Thus brought into the near neighborhood of the object which caused his
+fall, he discovered that it was neither a stick nor a stone, but a
+book&mdash;a book lying out on the cliff, and reduced to a pulp by the
+torrents of rain which had soaked it.</p>
+
+<p>"I say, Fowler, what's this?" he said eagerly, regaining his feet, the
+whole of the front of his person plastered with a whitish slime. "Here's
+a book! Does that help us&mdash;eh?"</p>
+
+<p>Mr. Fowler turned quickly.</p>
+
+<p>"Let me look," he said.</p>
+
+<p>To look was easier than to see, by that light; but, by applying the dark
+lantern which, they carried, they saw it was a book they knew&mdash;a copy of
+the "Idylls of the King," which Osmond had given to Elsa, and which was
+hardly ever out of her hands.</p>
+
+<p>"Strange!" ejaculated Henry, "very strange! She said they had not been
+on the cliffs&mdash;did she not say so, Cranmer?"</p>
+
+<p>"Undoubtedly."</p>
+
+<p>"She must have left it yesterday."</p>
+
+<p>"We were all at Heriton Castle yesterday."</p>
+
+<p>"Well&mdash;some time. Anyhow, it is her book&mdash;here is the name blotted and
+blurred, in the title-page. Let us search round here a little," he
+added, his voice betraying a sudden, nameless uneasiness.</p>
+
+<p>The search was fruitless. They called till the rocks re-echoed, but in
+vain. Up and down they walked, in and out among the drenched brambles,
+slipping hither and thither in the chalky mire. At last they gave it up.</p>
+
+<p>"We must go back and tell them we cannot find him," said Henry, wearily.</p>
+
+<p>Standing side by side on the summit of the heights, they paused, and
+gazed, as if by mutual consent, seawards.</p>
+
+<p>A pale silver glow came stealing as they looked across the heaving
+waters. The full dark clouds parted, and through the rift appeared a
+reach of clear dark sky. Wider and wider grew the star-powdered space,
+till at last the waning, misshapen-looking moon emerged, veiled only by
+a passing scud of vapor.</p>
+
+<p>Below them the turbid billows caught the light and glittered; and, among
+them, riding proudly and in safety, was the beautiful yacht, like a
+white swan brooding over the tumultuous sea, which was still running
+high enough to make the noble little vessel roll and pitch considerably
+at her anchor.</p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<h2>CHAPTER XXV.</h2>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i12">I? what I answered? As I live<br /></span>
+<span class="i12">I never fancied such a thing<br /></span>
+<span class="i12">As answer possible to give!<br /></span>
+<span class="i12">What says the body, when they spring<br /></span>
+<span class="i12">Some monstrous torture engine's whole<br /></span>
+<span class="i12">Weight on it? No more says the soul.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i24"><i>Count Gismond.</i><br /></span>
+</div></div>
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+
+<p>In the breezy glitter of the sunshiny morning, a crowd stood on the
+curving beach of Edge Valley in a state of perplexity something
+resembling a pack of hounds at fault.</p>
+
+<p>Day had dawned, full of light and motion. Billowy masses of white
+cumulus clouds sailed rapidly over the deep blue sky. The thick turbid
+sea rolled in, casting up mire and dirt from its depths. News had come
+to Brent that the fishing-smacks had found a refuge in Lyme harbour, and
+gay chatter filled the streets, as the happy wives and mothers ran to
+and fro, laughing as they thought on their terrors of the previous
+night.</p>
+
+<p>Joy had come in the morning to all but the inhabitants of Edge
+Willoughby. Godfrey was still missing, and there was no news of him.</p>
+
+<p>Mr. Fowler feared there could be but one solution of the mystery. The
+boy must have dared the cliff-path, and made a false step, or been swept
+off bodily by the gale. The sea, which had spared the yacht, most
+probably had drowned this heir to a great fortune.</p>
+
+<p>The strangest part of the affair was the callousness shown by Elsa. It
+almost seemed as if she were simply relieved by the absence of her
+brother, and careless as to its cause. She had, however, come down to
+the shore with her godfather, and stood, like one half dazed, among the
+villagers, answering with painful hesitation the questions put to her as
+to where she had last seen Godfrey.</p>
+
+<p>The yacht was brought up about half a mile off shore, and an examination
+of her by telescope had proved her to be a very smart and well-found
+vessel&mdash;a most perfect specimen of her kind. She was painted quite
+white, with a gold streak running round her, and she was flying a black
+distinguishing flag, upon which appeared a white swan with outspread
+wings, and an ensign which appeared to be foreign. The crew could be
+seen busy about the deck, repairing damages to paint and gear from the
+gale overnight. Just as Henry had dispatched two search-parties, one
+along the cliffs, the other along the shore, it was seen that a gig was
+leaving the yacht's side, and approaching with rapid strokes, pulled by
+two men, and a third steering. Mr. Fowler waited, knowing that most
+probably some injury had been sustained during the gale of the previous
+night, and that he might be able to make an offer of help.</p>
+
+<p>As soon as the keel touched the shingle, the man in the stern-sheets
+stood up, and asked if there were an inn in the village. His English was
+fair, but his accent virulently German. Being answered in the
+affirmative, he next proceeded, somewhat to the astonishment of the
+crowd, to ask if there were a magistrate living near.</p>
+
+<p>"I am a Justice of the Peace," said Mr. Fowler, amid a general
+sensation.</p>
+
+<p>The man touched his cap. His master, Mr. Percivale, would be very glad
+of a few moments' conversation, if the gentleman's leisure served. He
+had a statement to make if the Justice could wait, he would be on shore
+in twenty minutes.</p>
+
+<p>Henry, wondering greatly as to the statement he was to hear, inquired
+how much water the yacht drew, and, on being informed, explained that,
+if Mr. Percivale chose, he could steer her right in, within a few feet
+of the shore, owing to the peculiarly sudden shelve of the bay.</p>
+
+<p>The man touched his cap again, and, having raised the popular feeling to
+fever heat by a scarcely intelligible hint that he believed there was
+murder in the case, pushed off, and rowed back to the yacht as fast as
+he had come.</p>
+
+<p>The crowd on the beach had increased. Most of the villagers had seen the
+boat leave the yacht, and hurried down in great eagerness to know what
+was going forward.</p>
+
+<p>Doubtful as to what course to pursue, Mr. Fowler stood irresolute in
+their midst, Elsa, Miss Emily Willoughby, Miss Charlotte Willoughby, and
+Claud Cranmer at his side.</p>
+
+<p>Suddenly a sound of wheels was heard grinding sharply on the sea-road.
+Involuntarily all heads were turned in this new direction, and it was
+seen that one of the Stanton station-flies had come to a stand-still
+just opposite the assembled people, and that a lady and gentleman were
+hastily alighting.</p>
+
+<p>On hearing that the name of the owner of the yacht was Percivale, Mr.
+Cranmer roused himself from the reverie into which he had fallen. This,
+then, was the Swan, the mysterious yacht of which everyone had been
+talking all the summer, and whose owner was so obstinately
+uncommunicative and unsociable. The idea of meeting the hero of the hour
+brought a certain excitement with it; but these thoughts were put to
+flight by the sudden arrival on the scene of the two new actors. In a
+flash he recognised Frederick Orton, whom he had occasionally seen in
+company with Colonel Wynch-Fr�re at Sandown; and this, of course, was
+his wife. Whence had they sprung? They were believed to be in Homburg;
+and Claud felt a strange sinking of the heart as he realised in what an
+unfortunate moment they appeared.</p>
+
+<p>Ottilie sprang vehemently from the carriage, looking round her with
+flashing eyes. Evidently she was greatly excited. Moving hastily towards
+the group, she suddenly stopped short, asking, in her fine contralto
+voice:</p>
+
+<p>"Is Miss Charlotte Willoughby here?"</p>
+
+<p>With an assenting murmur, the throng divided right and left, and she
+moved on again, till she stood within a few inches of the lady in
+question. Her husband, after a word to the driver, followed her.</p>
+
+<p>"Miss Willoughby, I am Mrs. Frederick Orton," she said, every word of
+her deep utterance distinctly audible to everyone present. "We are just
+arrived from the Continent, and, in consequence of complaints of unkind
+treatment received in letters from our nephew, we travelled straight
+down here. We have been up to the house, seen your eldest sister, and
+been by her informed that the boy is missing since yesterday. Where is
+he?" She raised her magnificent voice slightly, and it seemed to pierce
+through Henry Fowler's brain. "Where is he? What have you done with him?
+Bring him back to me, instantly."</p>
+
+<p>Silence.</p>
+
+<p>The brisk wave broke splashing and foaming along the beach. The white
+fleecy cloud drew off from the sun which it had momentarily obscured.</p>
+
+<p>Miss Charlotte helplessly confronted her antagonist for a moment, and
+then burst into tears. All Edge Valley held its breath. That Miss
+Charlotte Willoughby could weep was a hypothesis too wild ever to have
+been hazarded among them.</p>
+
+<p>Frederick Orton, in his faultless summer travelling attire, a look of
+anxiety on his weak, handsome face, stood scanning the group, bowing
+slightly to Claud, whom he vaguely recognised, and then letting his eye
+wander to Elsa.</p>
+
+<p>There his gaze rivetted itself with a strange fascination. The girl was
+too like her father, Valentine Brabourne, for him to be ignorant of her
+identity; he partly hated her for it. Her beauty, too, took him utterly
+by surprise. He had heard that she was pretty, but for this unique and
+superb fairness he was quite unprepared.</p>
+
+<p>His wife, after waiting a minute, or two repeated her question.</p>
+
+<p>"What have you done with Godfrey?" she cried.</p>
+
+<p>Mr. Fowler stepped forward, raising his hat, and meeting her scornful
+eye steadily.</p>
+
+<p>"Who are you?" the eye seemed to demand. He answered, with his
+accustomed gentleness:</p>
+
+<p>"My name is Fowler, madam, and I am at present engaged in the same
+pursuit as yourself&mdash;a search-for Godfrey. The Misses Willoughby will
+have told you how he and his sister went out for a walk together
+yesterday, and missed each other&mdash;&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>She pounced upon his words.</p>
+
+<p>"His sister! Yes, his sister! Where is she?"</p>
+
+<p>Sweeping half round, she confronted Elsa on the instant. The two pairs
+of eyes met&mdash;the scorching dark ones, the radiant grey. In each pair, as
+it rested, on the other, was a menace. It was war to the knife between
+Ottilie Orton and her niece from that moment.</p>
+
+<p>"So that is his sister," faltered Godfrey's aunt at length. "Do you
+know," cried she, suddenly finding voice again&mdash;"do you know that you
+are&mdash;yes, you are directly responsible for whatever may have happened to
+Godfrey. I know, Elaine Brabourne, more than you imagine."</p>
+
+<p>A moment of horror, cold sickly horror, crept for one dark instant into
+Claud's brain as he saw the ashy pallor which overspread Elsa's lace.
+She seemed to reel where she stood.</p>
+
+<p>"No," she panted, incoherently, "no, it is not true! I never did&mdash;&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>Her godfather grasped her shoulder with a firm hold.</p>
+
+<p>"Do not attempt to answer Mrs. Orton," he said, in a voice which sounded
+unlike his own. "She is over-tired&mdash;excited. Presently she will regret
+her words."</p>
+
+<p>"Insolence!" said Ottilie, flinging a look at him. "Frederick, will you
+hear me spoken to like this?"</p>
+
+<p>"I think it would be&mdash;a&mdash;wiser to say no more at present," returned her
+husband, hesitatingly. "Had we not better have a little more light
+thrown on the subject first?"</p>
+
+<p>"More light? What more light do you want than that girl's ashy, guilty
+face, and the authority of this letter of Godfrey's?" she rejoined,
+vehemently. "Did he not say&mdash;&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>"Madam, if you have any accusation to lodge, I must desire you to choose
+a more fitting occasion," said Mr. Fowler, peremptorily. "Here, in the
+presence of these people, in your present state of agitation, you are
+hardly able to speak dispassionately. As no one yet knows of what they
+are accused, your charges are, so far, fired into the air. Mr. Orton,
+what do you wish me to do?"</p>
+
+<p>"Why, find the boy, I suppose. There'll be the devil to pay if he
+doesn't turn up," observed Mr. Orton; adding, as if to waive any
+unpleasant impression his speech might leave: "Why, Jove, there's a
+yacht coming right in shore. Won't she be aground?"</p>
+
+<p>"Nay, she's right enough. The bay's deep enough to float one of more
+than her tonnage," returned Mr. Fowler; and for the moment everyone's
+attention was given to the movements of the <i>Swan</i>.</p>
+
+<p>The sun streamed down on her dazzling white decks. Nothing more
+inviting, more exquisite, could be imagined. The curve of her bows was
+the perfection of grace; the polished brass of her binnacle and fittings
+gave back every beam that fell upon them.</p>
+
+<p>Half reclining over the rail aft was a young man with folded arms and
+face intent upon the manoeuvres of his crew. His head was slightly
+raised, and, as the yacht luffed up gently to the breeze, his profile
+was turned to the gazers on shore.</p>
+
+<p>It was precisely such a profile as might be one's ideal of a Sir
+Percivale&mdash;half Viking, half saint; not a Greek profile, for it was cut
+sharply inwards below the brow, the nose springing out with a slightly
+aquiline curve. The chin was oval, not square, as far as could be seen,
+but it was partially obscured by a short pointed golden moustache and
+beard, just inclining to red. The shape of the head, indicated strongly
+against the light beyond, showed both grace and power. His pose was full
+of ease and unconsciousness. He seemed hardly aware of the group on the
+beach, but kept his eyes fixed on his men, giving every now and then an
+order in German. At last the chain cable rattled out, and the dainty
+little vessel swung round, head to wind. Her owner roused himself, and
+stood upright, showing a stature of over six feet.</p>
+
+<p>He wore a white flannel shirt and trousers, a short crimson sash being
+knotted round his waist. Very leisurely he put on his white peaked cap,
+then took a dark blue serge yachting coat and slipped his arms into it,
+moving slowly forward meanwhile to the gangway. A wooden contrivance,
+forming a kind of bridge, with a handrail, was pushed out by the crew;
+and one of the longshoremen pressed eagerly forward to make it firm.</p>
+
+<p>Mr. Percivale stepped upon it, and walked, still with that impassive,
+pre-occupied air, forward towards the waiting crowd.</p>
+
+<p>Now it could be seen that his eyes were bright and vivid, of the very
+deepest blue&mdash;that blue called the violet, which shows darkly from a
+distance. His hair, with a distinct shade of red in its lustre, was a
+mass of small soft curls, close to the head. His complexion was fair and
+clear, just touched with tan, but naturally pale; his features
+excessively finely cut.</p>
+
+<p>"A man of mark, to know next time you saw," quoted Claud inwardly, as
+the stranger paused.</p>
+
+<p>The dark blue eyes roved over the crowd but for one swift instant. Then,
+suddenly, they met the glance of a pair of passionate grey ones&mdash;eyes
+which spoke, which seemed to cry aloud for sympathy&mdash;eyes set in such a
+face as the owner of the <i>Swan</i> had never yet looked on. As the two
+glances met, they became rivetted, each on the other. There was a
+pause, which to Elsa seemed to last for hours, but which in reality
+occupied only a few seconds; then Mr. Fowler went forward and asked,</p>
+
+<p>"You are the owner of the <i>Swan</i>?"</p>
+
+<p>"Yes; and you, if I rightly understood Bergman, are a Justice of the
+Peace?"</p>
+
+<p>"I am. Fowler is my name."</p>
+
+<p>"I really do not know," said the stranger, his eyes again wandering
+towards Elsa in the background, "whether you are the proper person with
+whom to lodge my information, but perhaps you will kindly arrange all
+that for me. I merely felt that I could not leave the neighborhood
+without telling you what my men found this morning on the cliffs."</p>
+
+<p>The silence, the breathless hush which had fallen on all present was
+almost horrible; the very sea, the noisy breeze seemed subdued for the
+moment. Mr. Fowler's face stiffened.</p>
+
+<p>"We were lying midway between Brent and this place early this morning,"
+went on the stranger who, to judge by his speech, was certainly English,
+"and my crew were examining the cliff with the glasses, when their
+attention was caught by something lying on the grass. It was a dark
+object, and after watching it for some time, one of the men declared
+that it moved. At last they asked my permission to go and examine the
+spot, which I willingly gave. They scaled the cliff&mdash;&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>"Then what they saw was not at the <i>foot</i> of the cliff?" burst in Claud,
+breathlessly.</p>
+
+<p>"No. It was on the summit. It was the dead body of a boy."</p>
+
+<p>Elsa gave a wild cry and threw up her arms.</p>
+
+<p>Mr. Fowler caught her to him, holding her golden head against his
+breast, stroking down her hair, murmuring to her with parched lips. Mrs.
+Orton never moved; she stood like a pale Nemesis, her eyes fixed on the
+trembling girl; and down from the breezy heights came the wind, singing
+and whistling, making all the poppies dance among the stubble, and the
+bright clouds dash over the vivid sky in racy succession.</p>
+
+<p>"Go home, Elsa darling&mdash;let Mr. Cranmer take you home," whispered Henry.</p>
+
+<p>"No! no! I want to hear everything!" she cried, in anguish.</p>
+
+<p>The stranger's eyes dilated with a wonderful pity as he looked at her.</p>
+
+<p>"I am sorry to give her such pain," he said, at length slowly, in his
+gentle voice.</p>
+
+<p>"Go on," said Henry, hoarsely. "Go on&mdash;what did your men do?"</p>
+
+<p>"They satisfied themselves that the boy was dead&mdash;that he had been dead
+many hours. When they were sure of this, they left the body as they
+found it, thinking perhaps they had better not meddle with it. The cause
+of death was apparently hemorrhage of the lungs, but it had been brought
+on, they guessed, by a violent blow on the back. The body, when they
+found it, was lying in what looked like an attempt by some very
+unskilful hands, to hollow out a hole and cover it with bramble
+branches, as one branch lay under the corpse. The gale had of course
+blown away anything which might have concealed the ghastly secret. About
+thirty feet from the spot was a large stain of blood, partly obliterated
+by rain."</p>
+
+<p>"Murder will out," said Mrs. Orton, slowly, fixing her burning eyes on
+Elsa. Theatrical as her manner was, it scarcely seemed too emphatic at
+this fearful crisis. "Yes! no wonder she cowers! No wonder she is
+transfixed with horror! I say," she went on, raising her voice a
+little&mdash;only a little, yet every accent penetrated to the very outskirts
+of the crowd. "I say that Elaine Brabourne is her brother's murderer."</p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<h2>CHAPTER XXVI.</h2>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i20">Then I knew<br /></span>
+<span class="i12">That I was saved. I never met<br /></span>
+<span class="i12">His face before, but, at first view,<br /></span>
+<span class="i12">I felt quite sure that God had set<br /></span>
+<span class="i12">Himself to Satan: who would spend<br /></span>
+<span class="i12">A minute's mistrust on the end?<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i24"><i>Count Gismond.</i><br /></span>
+</div></div>
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+
+<p>"It is an infamous falsehood!"</p>
+
+<p>Every one turned in the direction of the speaker. Elsa, who had sunk on
+the ground, clinging to Henry Fowler's knees, made a sudden movement,
+and held out her hands.</p>
+
+<p>It is very seldom, in our prosaic century, that a man first meets a
+woman in such circumstances&mdash;first sees her with all the restraints of
+conventionality stripped clean away&mdash;with helpless, appealing anguish
+written in her eyes.</p>
+
+<p>To Percivale it seemed as if the whole scene dated back for about six
+centuries, as though he were a knight-errant, one of Arthur's knights,
+coming suddenly upon a distressed maiden, who claimed his help as her
+divine right. A long dreadful moment had elapsed between Mrs. Orton's
+accusation and his reply, a moment which he had expected would have been
+seized either by Mr. Fowler or the young man who stood by.</p>
+
+<p>But no. Both were silent, for the same fatal reason. They both thought
+it possible, knowing what provocation had been Elsa's, that, in a moment
+of passion, she had struck blindly. But the sound of the stranger's
+frank, fearless tones seemed, for no reason at all, to make Henry feel
+ashamed of himself. He stooped to Elsa and lifted her to her feet.</p>
+
+<p>"Take courage, my child, tell the truth," he said, tenderly.</p>
+
+<p>Mrs. Orton and Mr. Percivale stood facing each other.</p>
+
+<p>"May I ask by what right you are meddling in this affair, sir?" asked
+Ottilie, with studied insolence. "What do you know of the matter? How
+can you possibly presume to give an opinion? If I might venture to make
+a suggestion to so grand a gentleman, it would be that you return to
+your vessel, and continue that cruise which you so charitably
+interrupted to bring us this awful intelligence."</p>
+
+<p>Percivale never moved his large, calm eyes from her face; but, slowly
+removing his cap from his bright head, made her a graceful bow.</p>
+
+<p>"With all possible aversion to disobeying a lady's commands, madam, I
+must decline to take your thoughtful suggestion," he said, courteously.
+"I have just told you, in hasty words which were the result of a
+moment's indignation, that I believe the statement you just now made to
+be false. Whilst apologising for the manner in which I expressed myself,
+I beg to say that I meant every word I said; and you will thus see that
+I have rendered it impossible for me to leave this place, until it is
+proved that I am right and you are wrong."</p>
+
+<p>She laughed insultingly, she was too excited to know exactly what she
+said or did.</p>
+
+<p>"You will have to stay a long time," said she, with a sneer. "Why, look
+at Elaine Brabourne! Look at her cowering there! Doesn't her attitude
+speak for itself? Do you wish to be better acquainted with the
+situation? Will it satisfy you to be told that a fortune of eighty
+thousand pounds comes to this girl on her brother's death, and that it
+is only a week since she was made aware of the fact? And if I say
+further that she wants to marry a beggarly artist, and that only my
+little Godfrey's frail life stood between&mdash;&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>"Ottilie, Ottilie, hold your tongue, my dear girl," said Frederick,
+nervously. "You are overwrought, you must take some rest, and leave me
+to search out this affair."</p>
+
+<p>"Leave you!" She wrenched herself away scornfully. "Leave <i>you</i> to do
+it? Why, you could be made to say black was white in ten minutes by
+anyone who would discuss the question with you. Well"&mdash;to
+Percivale&mdash;"are you still mad enough to say that the matter admits of a
+doubt?"</p>
+
+<p>The perfect quiet of his answer was a most complete contrast to her
+violence.</p>
+
+<p>"It is unfortunate," he said, "that the consideration of the same
+circumstances should lead us to diametrically opposite conclusions; but
+so it is. You consider that the young lady's present appearance and
+attitude argues guilt; to me it strongly indicates innocence. This shows
+how necessary it is that I should have proof of the truth of my view,
+which proof I shall immediately take steps to find."</p>
+
+<p>Henry Fowler roused himself; his face seemed to have grown ten years
+older during the last half-hour.</p>
+
+<p>"I am grateful to you, sir," he said to Percivale, with a piteous
+humility. "Elsa, my darling, you must go home at once."</p>
+
+<p>Raising her lovely head from his shoulder, she stood upright, for the
+first time since her accusation. She looked straight at the stranger,
+holding out her hands.</p>
+
+<p>"It is false&mdash;every word they said about me," she faltered. "I could
+tell you&mdash;&mdash;" here her voice broke.</p>
+
+<p>Holding his hat in his left hand, he grasped both her small hands in his
+right, and, bending low, kissed them respectfully.</p>
+
+<p>"I want no assurances," he said. "I do not even want you to tell me of
+your innocence. I know it; and all these people, who have heard you
+falsely accused, shall hear justice done if God grant me life and
+strength to do it." He smiled for the first time&mdash;a quiet, grave smile
+which irradiated all his face. "I do not even know your name," he said;
+"but I know that you are innocent."</p>
+
+<p>Miss Charlotte, white and subdued, came up and took the girl's hand.</p>
+
+<p>Elsa moved slightly, as if she were dreaming, and then smiled back into
+Percivale's eyes, a smile of perfect trust, as though an angel had
+appeared to champion her.</p>
+
+<p>It was her only leave-taking: she never spoke; but, turning, walked
+through the assembled peasants with a mien as dignified, as consciously
+noble, as that of Marie-Antoinette at her trial.</p>
+
+<p>"They can take our fly&mdash;I am going along the cliffs to find my boy,"
+said Mrs. Orton, with a burst of tears.</p>
+
+<p>Her husband and Claud followed the three ladies to the carriage. Henry
+Fowler was left face to face with the stranger.</p>
+
+<p>"God help us," he said, brokenly. "What is to be done?"</p>
+
+<p>"The first thing," said Percivale, quietly, "is to decide whether the
+boy found by my crew is the brother of Miss&mdash;Miss&mdash;&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>"Brabourne,&mdash;true. But he is only her half-brother."</p>
+
+<p>"The next thing will be to prove&mdash;&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>"It is hopeless," cried Henry, helplessly, as they moved away from the
+crowd together. "You don't know, as I do, the weight of evidence against
+her. You do not&mdash;pardon me&mdash;understand the circumstances."</p>
+
+<p>"No. For my enlightenment I must apply first to you. As the matter seems
+to be a family one, and as I am an utter stranger, I shall consider you
+fully justified if you decline to afford me any help at all. But I must
+warn you that, if I cannot get information from you, I shall apply for
+it elsewhere. It will take longer; but I have pledged my word."</p>
+
+<p>Henry surveyed him with an interest bordering on admiration.</p>
+
+<p>"I shall tell you anything you ask," he said. "Our first meeting has
+been too far beyond the limits of conventionalities for us to be bound
+by any rules. God bless you for your unhesitating defence of my poor
+little girl. I was too crushed&mdash;I knew too much to be able to speak
+promptly, as you did; and I terribly fear that when you have heard all I
+can tell you, though you may not waver in your belief in her, you will
+think the case against her looks very grave."</p>
+
+<p>They paused, and turned to watch Mr. and Mrs. Orton, and Claud, who were
+approaching. Mr. Percivale called to one of the crew of the <i>Swan</i> to
+come ashore and lead the way; and after the party had been yet further
+augmented by the Edge Valley policeman, they set forth towards the
+cliffs.</p>
+
+<p>Ottilie hurried on first, sweeping her husband in her train. Claud, Mr.
+Fowler, and Percivale walked more slowly, and as they went, the latter
+was put in full possession of the facts of the case, so far as they
+could be known.</p>
+
+<p>He disagreed entirely with the inference that Elsa's odd conduct of the
+preceding day, and seeming uncertainty as to where she had parted from
+her brother, was a sign of guilt.</p>
+
+<p>"We cannot," he urged, "any of us dwell for a moment on such a
+hypothesis as that it was a murder in cold blood. The next conclusion,
+then, would be, a blow struck in a fit of passion, unintentionally
+causing death. Now, consider probabilities for a moment. In such a case,
+would it not be the only impulse of any girl, terrified by the
+unexpected result of her anger, to rush for help? Miss Brabourne has
+never seen death&mdash;she would think of a swoon from loss of blood as the
+worst possible contingency, she would have hurried home, she would have
+told the first wayfarer she met, she would have been so agitated as to
+render concealment impossible. Besides, the poor boy's clothes were
+saturated with blood; how could she have lifted him&mdash;how could she have
+scooped any sort of hole without her clothes bearing such evident traces
+of it?"</p>
+
+<p>"The front of her dress was very dirty," said Claud, reluctantly. "You
+know I always notice that sort of thing. No rain had fallen then, so it
+was not mud; but it was chalk, I am certain."</p>
+
+<p>"You have not watched Elsa, Mr. Percivale, as I have done," said Henry,
+sadly. "You are ignorant of her character, and her bringing-up. She has
+never known what sympathy meant. Every trivial offence has been treated
+as a crime. Her childhood was one long atmosphere of punishment. The
+Misses Willoughby are good women, but they have not understood how to
+bring her up&mdash;repression, authority, decorum, those are their ideas. If
+ever Elsa laughed, she laughed alone; if she suffered, it was in secret.
+She is reserved by nature, and this training has made her far more so.
+Were she to fall into any grievous trouble, such as this, for instance,"
+pausing a moment, he then added firmly, "I must confess that I think her
+first, second, and third impulse would be to conceal it."</p>
+
+<p>Percivale made no reply.</p>
+
+<p>"Her temper, too&mdash;she has never been taught to govern it," went on
+Henry, sadly; "and it is very violent. Add to this the provocation she
+has had&mdash;&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>"Have you," asked Claud, suddenly, "have you mentioned to anyone the
+book we found on the cliff last night?"</p>
+
+<p>Henry made a gesture of despair.</p>
+
+<p>"I had forgotten that," he said, miserably. "But it is another strong
+piece of evidence."</p>
+
+<p>Claud explained to Percivale.</p>
+
+<p>"Miss Brabourne told us that she had not been on the cliffs yesterday.
+As we walked home, we found a favorite book of hers lying out in the
+rain&mdash;a book which only some very unforeseen agitation would induce her
+to part with."</p>
+
+<p>"Of course we could suppress that evidence at the inquest," was the
+immoral suggestion of the Justice of the Peace.</p>
+
+<p>"It will not be necessary," tranquilly replied their companion. "I shall
+know the truth by then."</p>
+
+<p>They were out on the cliffs by this time, and presently became aware, by
+the halting of the sailors in front, that the fatal spot was reached.
+They saw Mrs. Orton cast herself on the ground in the theatrical way
+which seemed habitual to her, and saw her husband's face turn greenish
+white as he averted it from the little corpse over which she bent so
+vehemently. Walking forward, they too stood beside the dead boy.</p>
+
+<p>Every feeling of animosity, of dislike, which Henry Fowler might have
+cherished, melted before the pitiful sight. It was through a mist of
+tears, which came near to falling, that he gazed down on the child's
+white face.</p>
+
+<p>It was quite composed and the eyes half shut. A certain drawn look about
+the mouth, and the added placidity and beauty of death gave to it a
+likeness to Elsa which had not seemed to exist in life. It was somewhat
+horrible to contemplate. In her moments of dumb obstinacy Henry had seen
+her look so.</p>
+
+<p>He turned away his face for a moment, looking out over the busy,
+tossing, sunlit sea, where the shadows of the clouds chased each other
+in soft blurs of shadow, with green and russet shoals between.</p>
+
+<p>The fresh quick air swept over the chalk, laden with brine. A warm odor
+of thyme was in its breath, and there lay Godfrey, with stiff limbs and
+still heart, in a silence only broken by his aunt's sobs, and the
+whistling of the wind among the rocks.</p>
+
+<p>"How do you know that death was caused by a blow?" asked Mr. Percivale
+of the sailors, at length.</p>
+
+<p>Bergman explained, in his German accents, that they had made an
+examination of the body to see if it could be identified.</p>
+
+<p>"It is not lying now as we found it, sir. It was bent together&mdash;we
+straightened the limbs. In pulling down the shirt to see if there was a
+name marked on it, we discovered a livid bruise."</p>
+
+<p>Mr. Percivale knelt down by the dead boy, and, passing an arm gently
+beneath him, raised the lifeless head till it lay against his shoulder,
+and exposed the bruise in question.</p>
+
+<p>Mrs. Orton, who had been silent till now, uttered an inarticulate cry of
+rage:</p>
+
+<p>"Look there!" she gasped.</p>
+
+<p>"Is anyone here ignorant enough to assert that this scar is the result
+of the blow of a girl's fist?" demanded Percivale, raising his head. "It
+has been done with a stick&mdash;a heavy stick. See, it has grazed the skin
+right across; you can follow the direction of it. Does Miss Brabourne
+carry a weapon of that description?"</p>
+
+<p>"She had no stick when we met her in the lane yesterday," said Claud,
+eagerly.</p>
+
+<p>"Idiot! As if she could not throw away a dozen on her way home from
+here," passionately broke in Mrs. Orton.</p>
+
+<p>"Ottilie," said her husband, in a low, warning voice, "take care."</p>
+
+<p>"Take care! Too late to say that now," she cried. "Why didn't I take
+care sooner&mdash;care of my poor little boy? Why did I ever send him to
+this den of assassins? But, thank Heaven, we are in England, and shall
+have justice&mdash;a life for a life," she concluded, wildly.</p>
+
+<p>"We are willing to make all possible allowances for Mrs. Orton's
+feelings," said Percivale, with great gentleness. "I must agree with her
+that it is much to be regretted that she trusted such a delicate child,
+and one on whose life so much depended, out of her own personal care."</p>
+
+<p>"What do you mean, sir?" cried Ottilie, suddenly.</p>
+
+<p>"What do I mean? Merely what I said, madam," he answered, astonished.</p>
+
+<p>"You are trying to make insinuations," she cried, too excited to think
+of prudence. "What depended on Godfrey's life? Do you suppose I am
+thinking of the paltry few hundreds a year we received for taking care
+of him?"</p>
+
+<p>"Madam," he replied at once, "an hour since you did not scruple openly,
+in the presence of numbers of people, to accuse Miss Brabourne of
+murdering her brother to obtain his fortune; I am therefore not
+surprised that you imagine others may be ready to supply a base motive
+for your grief at his death. Believe me, however, my imagination is not
+so vivid as yours; what you suggest had not occurred to me until you
+mentioned it."</p>
+
+<p>She had no answer to make; she was choking with rage; the stranger was a
+match for her. Her husband stood by, reflecting for the first time on
+the effect which Godfrey's death must have for him. The few hundreds of
+which his wife spoke so contemptuously had nevertheless been
+particularly acceptable to people who habitually lived far beyond their
+income, and were always in want of ready money. But beyond this&mdash;had
+Godfrey lived to attain his majority, the whole of his fortune would
+have been practically in his uncle's hands. He could have invested it,
+turned it over, betted with it, speculated with it; and the boy would
+have made a will immensely in his favor. He had never looked forward to
+a long life for the young heir.</p>
+
+<p>Weakly, and viciously inclined, he had always imagined that four or
+five years of indulgence would "finish" him; but that he should live to
+be twenty-one was all-important. Now the whole of that untouched fortune
+was Elsa's, unless this murder could be proved against her. Mr. Orton
+began to divine the more rapid workings of his wife's mind. In the event
+of both children dying unmarried, the money was willed, half to
+Frederick, half to the Misses Willoughby.</p>
+
+<p>Never had Mr. and Mrs. Orton been in more urgent, more terrible need
+than at this moment. The year had been a consistently unlucky one. Their
+Ascot losses had merely been the beginning of sorrows.</p>
+
+<p>The hurried flight from Homburg had really been due, not to poor
+Godfrey's complaints of his dulness, but to an inability to remain
+longer; and they had arrived at Edge with the full intention of
+partaking of the Misses Willoughby's hospitality as long as they could
+manage to endure the slowness of existence at their expense.</p>
+
+<p>And now here was this dire calamity befallen them! Frederick smarted
+under a righteous sense of injury. He thought Fate had a special spite
+against him. What was a man to do if everything would persist in being a
+failure? Every single road towards paying his debts seemed to be
+inexorably closed. This was most certainly his misfortune and not his
+fault; he was perfectly willing to pay, if some one would give him the
+money to do it with; and, as nobody would, it followed that he was most
+deeply to be pitied.</p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<h2>CHAPTER XXVII.</h2>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i12">One friend in that path shall be<br /></span>
+<span class="i12">To secure my step from wrong;<br /></span>
+<span class="i12">One to count night day for me,<br /></span>
+<span class="i12">Patient through the watches long,<br /></span>
+<span class="i12">Serving most with none to see.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i24"><i>A Serenade at the Villa.</i><br /></span>
+</div></div>
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+
+<p>Nothing could well look blacker than did the case to Henry Fowler. He
+could see no way out of it. Had the boy been found at the foot of the
+cliffs, a verdict of accidental death could so easily have been
+returned; but here, and with the marks of violence plainly visible on
+the body, the presumption seemed terribly strong.</p>
+
+<p>He stood with head sunk upon his chest, feeling beaten down, degraded,
+stricken. Over and over in his mind did he turn the circumstances to see
+if there would be enough evidence to justify the coroner in committing
+Elaine for trial.</p>
+
+<p>Absolute proof of her guilt would not, he thought, be possible; the
+night had been so wild, the spot so lonely. But the very fact of
+standing to take her trial on such a charge would be more than enough to
+blast the young girl's future. Supposing she had to go through life
+stigmatised as one acquitted of murder merely because the jury did not
+see enough evidence to convict? The thought was literally agony to his
+large, gentle heart. Was this to be the fate of Alice's daughter? He
+stood as one accused in his own eyes of culpable neglect; in some way
+such a culmination should have been avoided&mdash;he should have been able to
+watch over Elaine better than he had done.</p>
+
+<p>Claud gently recalled him to the present by asking what was to be done
+with the body.</p>
+
+<p>Rousing himself, he gave directions for it to be carried to Edge
+Willoughby; and then fell afresh into a fit of despair, realising how
+terribly imminent it all was.</p>
+
+<p>"When will the inquest take place?" asked Mr. Percivale, approaching
+him.</p>
+
+<p>"The day after to-morrow&mdash;I cannot delay it longer; you have forty-eight
+hours in which to accomplish your purpose," returned Henry, with a
+bitter laugh quite unlike him.</p>
+
+<p>"Forty-eight hours," repeated the stranger, steadily. "One can do a
+great deal in that time."</p>
+
+<p>He remained standing, in the perfect quietness of attitude which seemed
+habitual to him, his eyes fixed on the rude niche, hollowed in the
+ground, where the boy's corpse had lain.</p>
+
+<p>"He was not robbed," he said, after a moment.</p>
+
+<p>"Robbed? No! She was not clever enough for that," cut in Ottilie, with
+her harsh sneer. "Had she possessed wit enough to rifle his pockets and
+fling his watch into a thicket, she would have stood a better chance."</p>
+
+<p>"Miss Brabourne is, perhaps, not so well versed in the science of these
+matters as you seem to be, madam," was the mild answer. "Yet, if she
+possessed cunning enough to conceive the plan of murdering her brother
+for his fortune, it would seem consistent to credit her also with
+cunning enough to do all in her power to avert suspicion; to me, it
+amounts to a moral impossibility that any young lady in her right mind
+should perpetrate such a deed, and then walk quietly home without so
+much as making up a single falsehood to shield herself."</p>
+
+<p>"Murderers, especially inexperienced ones, are never consistent,"
+returned Mrs. Orton, furiously, "as you would know, if you knew anything
+at all of the matter."</p>
+
+<p>"Ottilie, Ottilie, come away, for goodness sake&mdash;it is snobbish to get
+up a row," urged her husband, in low tones; and, taking her by the arm,
+he led her unwillingly away from the scene of conflict.</p>
+
+<p>Claud and Percivale were left confronting each other.</p>
+
+<p>"The valley will have a pretty ghastly celebrity attaching to it after
+this," remarked the former, removing his straw hat to pass his
+handkerchief over his hot brow. "This is the second mysterious affair
+within one summer."</p>
+
+<p>"The second!" echoed Percivale, keenly, turning his eyes upon him full
+of awakened interest.</p>
+
+<p>"Yes; and with points of similarity too. Each victim had been attacked
+from behind, and beaten with a heavy stick; there was no robbery in
+either case, and Miss Elsa Brabourne in the former case, oddly enough,
+was the person to discover the insensible victim. Whether the incident
+unconsciously influenced her, whether as is the case sometimes,
+according to newspapers, the ease with which one crime had been
+committed suggested another, I cannot of course say&mdash;&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>"Was the man killed?"</p>
+
+<p>"No; he recovered: but had no idea as to who was his assailant. We had
+down a detective&mdash;&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>"English detectives are no use at all, or I would telegraph for the
+entire force," replied Percivale. "I believe I shall get to the bottom
+of this matter more surely by myself. I have already formulated a
+theory. You say the criminal was never discovered?"</p>
+
+<p>"No; never even had a clue worth calling a clue."</p>
+
+<p>"Then surely the same idea at once occurs to you as to me, that both
+these murders are the work of one hand."</p>
+
+<p>Claud was silent.</p>
+
+<p>"I had not thought of it," he said at last.</p>
+
+<p>"No; because your mind is full of a preconceived idea; and nothing is
+more fatal to the discovery of the truth. Let me show you what I mean. I
+suppose there is no room at all for the absurd supposition that Miss
+Brabourne was concerned in crime number one?"</p>
+
+<p>"None whatever. She was out walking with her maid, and they found Mr.
+Allonby lying insensible by the roadside. He had been first stunned by a
+blow on the head, then so severely beaten that the bone of one arm was
+broken."</p>
+
+<p>"And not robbed?"</p>
+
+<p>"No; except for a most absurd circumstance&mdash;one which mystified us all
+more than anything. He had his dinner with him&mdash;he was making a sketch,
+I should tell you; an artist&mdash;and this dinner was packed for him by Mrs.
+Clapp, of the Fountain Head, in a pudding-basin, tied round with a blue
+and white handkerchief. After the murder the basin and handkerchief were
+missing, nor could they be found, though careful search was made. The
+detective could offer no solution of this part of the business."</p>
+
+<p>"What solution did he offer of the rest of the transaction?"</p>
+
+<p>"He felt certain it must be the result of some private grudge; the
+attack was such a vicious one&mdash;as if the one idea had been to kill&mdash;to
+wreak vengeance."</p>
+
+<p>"What time of day was this done?" asked Percivale, who was following
+every word with close interest.</p>
+
+<p>"As near as possible at five o'clock, one evening towards the end of
+June. The time can be fixed pretty conclusively, for when Miss Brabourne
+and her maid passed the place shortly before, he was alive, seated on a
+camp-stool; on their return he was lying in the grass, motionless."</p>
+
+<p>"And was there any inhabitant of the village likely to bear the artist a
+grudge?"</p>
+
+<p>"Impossible! He was an utter stranger."</p>
+
+<p>"Did anyone see a stranger pass through? Let me know the circumstances
+more accurately. Describe the scene of the occurrence."</p>
+
+<p>Claud eagerly complied, supplying Mr. Percivale with every detail, and
+doing it with the intelligent accuracy which was part of his nature. The
+other listened closely, questioning here and there, and finally gave his
+conclusion with calm conviction.</p>
+
+<p>"Every word you utter convinces me that for a stranger of any sort to
+penetrate into the valley, track Mr. Allonby's whereabouts, and vanish
+without leaving a trace, taking with him a pudding-basin as a memento of
+his vengeance, amounts to a moral impossibility. It is absurd. You say,
+too, that Mr. Allonby has no idea himself on the subject&mdash;says he has no
+enemies&mdash;is as much in the dark as anyone?"</p>
+
+<p>"Yes, and I believe him: he is a thoroughly simple-minded, honest
+fellow."</p>
+
+<p>"Then it stands to reason, in my opinion, that the murderer is an
+inhabitant of Edge Valley."</p>
+
+<p>"But then," cried Claud, "you take away any possibility of a motive!"</p>
+
+<p>"Exactly; and, granting for the sake of argument that Miss Brabourne did
+<i>not</i> murder her brother, what motive have we here?"</p>
+
+<p>Claud was silent.</p>
+
+<p>"The way you argue is this," went on Percivale, "you know of a
+powerfully strong motive for the murder of this poor boy, and you feel
+bound to accept the theory because, if it be not so, you are at a loss
+to account for the thing on any other grounds. You say&mdash;there must be a
+very forcible reason to incite to murder. I answer you&mdash;here is a crime,
+committed in this very village, not three months back, fresh in
+everyone's memory, alike in many salient points, and, as far as we can
+learn, utterly without purpose. If one mysterious deed can be committed
+in this valley, why not two? Why is the homicide to stop short? If he
+has managed to dispose of a full-grown man on the high-road in broad
+daylight, he will make short work of a delicate little boy, out by
+himself on the cliffs in the twilight."</p>
+
+<p>"But," urged Claud, "you are assuming that these outrages are committed
+simply for the sake of killing&mdash;with no motive but slaughter. They must
+then be the work of a maniac, of some one not in his right mind!"</p>
+
+<p>"Exactly. That is the very same conclusion which I have arrived at. Do
+you know of any such in the village?"</p>
+
+<p>"No, I don't. I am certain there is no such person," answered Claud,
+hopelessly.</p>
+
+<p>"He may very likely exist without anyone's suspecting it," rejoined
+Percivale. "You know a man may suffer from one special form of mania and
+be absolutely sane on every other point. If we could leave the discovery
+to time, he must inevitably betray himself, sooner or later; but we have
+to run him to earth in eight-and-forty hours. Let us see if the spots
+selected give us any clue. How far from where we are now standing was
+Mr. Allonby attacked?"</p>
+
+<p>"In quite the opposite direction&mdash;nearly four miles from here. Starting
+from Edge Willoughby, you would turn to your right and strike inland to
+get to Poole Farm; you would turn to your left and walk along the shore
+to get here."</p>
+
+<p>"I see. That does not help us much; yet the criminal should have some
+hiding place within convenient distance one would think. Unless it be
+some one so completely beyond the pale of suspicion that his goings and
+comings excited no attention whatever. Is there no village idiot here?
+They indulge in one in most out-of-the-way spots like this?"</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, yes, there is Saul Parker, an epileptic boy; but he is out of the
+question."</p>
+
+<p>"Why out of the question?" asked Percivale, persistently.</p>
+
+<p>"Why, because&mdash;because&mdash;my good sir, why are <i>you</i> out of the question,
+the thing is just as absurd," answered Claud, almost crossly.</p>
+
+<p>"Is it? I wonder," said Percivale, thoughtfully. "We shall soon see, if
+you can answer a few more of my questions for me. To begin&mdash;<i>I</i> am out
+of the question because it can be proved that I was not in Edge Valley
+at the time either crime was committed. Can you say as much for this
+Saul Parker?"</p>
+
+<p>"No, of course he was in the place at the time, but the whole idea is
+absurd. He is gentle, tractable, most beautiful in face, and sat to Miss
+Allonby as a model for a picture Mr. Fowler now has&mdash;&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>"Where was he at the time Mr. Allonby was attacked?" coolly continued
+his interrogator.</p>
+
+<p>"Where was he? I&mdash;&mdash;" a sudden memory burst upon Claud of Mrs.
+Battishill's kitchen when he first beheld it.</p>
+
+<p>"He was in the kitchen of Poole Farm," he answered, triumphantly, "for I
+saw him there myself. I think that proves the <i>alibi</i> all right."</p>
+
+<p>"Did you see him there before or after the attempted murder?"</p>
+
+<p>"After&mdash;naturally."</p>
+
+<p>"Ah!... where does this Saul Parker live?"</p>
+
+<p>"He lives with his mother in a cottage on the Quarry Road. She is the
+widow of a quarry-man."</p>
+
+<p>"It was along the Quarry Road, I think, that Miss Brabourne and her
+brother went to the cliff yesterday? I wish you would kindly take me
+back to the village that way. I should like to see the idiot, foolish as
+you think my theory sounds. Is he very small and puny?"</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, no&mdash;a great fellow, taller than I am," admitted Claud, with a
+vague, vague wonder growing in him as to whether, after all, the
+stranger had chanced upon the truth of what had baffled them all this
+summer.</p>
+
+<p>And&mdash;the absurdity of the idea!</p>
+
+<p>Even as this sentiment crossed his mind, he could not help owning that,
+though he could reiterate that it was absurd, he could give no
+substantial reasons for his opinion. Everyone would have thought it
+absurd&mdash;anyone in Edge Valley to whom the suggestion had been made would
+have passed it by with a contemptuous laugh. The idiot was probably the
+only person in the whole place whose goings and comings were never
+challenged&mdash;who wandered in and out as he listed, now in this farm
+kitchen, now in that, kindly tolerated for the sake of his beautiful
+face and his affliction. It was of little use to question him.</p>
+
+<p>"Where have 'ee been, my lad? Haow's yer moother?" or any other like
+civility. A soft smile or a gurgling laugh would be the only response at
+times, or, if mischievously inclined, he might give an answer which was
+not the true one.</p>
+
+<p>Yet, now that Claud began to think over what he knew of the boy....</p>
+
+<p>His intense aversion to strangers was one point in his character which
+rose to immediate remembrance. He recalled Wynifred's story of how she
+had caught him in the act of throwing a stone at Mr. Haldane when his
+back was turned; and Clara Battishill's complaints of his cruelty were
+also fresh in his memory.</p>
+
+<p>But Godfrey he knew to be the special terror of Saul's life, and the
+object of his untold hatred. Godfrey set his bull-dog at the idiot,
+laughed at him, bullied him&mdash;one blow from that heavy cudgel which Saul
+habitually dragged after him would be more than enough to avenge his
+wrongs on the frail boy. And yet&mdash;and yet&mdash;&mdash;</p>
+
+<p>Somehow, Elsa's guilt seemed painfully obvious. Her embarrassment, her
+confusion of the night before&mdash;how were they to be accounted for? Was
+there any other solution possible? Her untruthful equivocation as to
+where she had been&mdash;what else could it portend?</p>
+
+<p>This idea about Saul was, after all, too wild and far-fetched. How could
+he have been guilty of the attack on Osmond without the Battishills
+being aware of the fact?</p>
+
+<p>No; the theory was ingenious, but, in his opinion, it would not hold
+water. He said so, aloud, after a long interval of silence.</p>
+
+<p>"I shall at all events see if facts fit in at all with it," said
+Percivale, quietly. "Drowning men catch at straws, you know." Pausing a
+moment he then added, almost reverently:</p>
+
+<p>"If that beautiful woman is arraigned for this crime&mdash;if she has ever to
+stand in the dock to answer to the charge of fratricide, or even
+manslaughter, I shall feel all the rest of my life though as if I were
+stained, shamed, degraded from my rightful post of helper to the
+oppressed. I feel as though I could cut through armies single-handed
+sooner than see Frederick Orton's wife triumph over the youth and
+helplessness of Miss Brabourne."</p>
+
+<p>He hesitated over the name, breathing it softly, as a devotee might name
+a patron saint.</p>
+
+<p>"You know something of the Ortons?" asked Claud.</p>
+
+<p>"By reputation&mdash;yes," returned Percivale, with the air of one who does
+not intend to say more.</p>
+
+<p>Had he chosen, he could have edified his companion with an account of
+how, last summer, at Oban, Mrs. Orton had determined, by hook or by
+crook, to become acquainted with the mysterious owner of the <i>Swan</i>, of
+whom no one knew more than his name, his unsociable habits, and his
+somewhat remarkable appearance; and how she prosecuted this design with
+so much vigor that he was obliged to intimate to her, as unequivocably
+as is possible from a gentleman to a lady, that he declined the honor of
+her acquaintance.</p>
+
+<p>He said nothing of this, however; evidently, whatever his merits or his
+failings, he was a very uncommunicative person.</p>
+
+<p>As if by mutual consent, they moved slowly along together, their faces
+turned back towards Edge Valley. Suddenly it occurred to Claud that he
+was due at Ardnacruan in six hours' time. There was nothing for it but
+to drive into Stanton and telegraph; no consideration should induce him
+to leave the scene of action in the present unforeseen and agitated
+aspect of affairs. He must implore Fowler to keep him a few days
+longer&mdash;which request that good fellow would grant, he knew how
+willingly.</p>
+
+<p>As these thoughts crossed his mind, Henry approached them, his kind face
+furrowed and drawn with pain in a manner piteous to behold. Laying a
+hand on Mr. Cranmer's arm, he said, brokenly,</p>
+
+<p>"Claud, my lad, you're not thinking of leaving me to-day?"</p>
+
+<p>A rush of sympathy filled the young man's heart. Never before had Mr.
+Fowler made use of his Christian name.</p>
+
+<p>"No, my dear fellow, of course I shall stay," he said, at once. "If only
+I thought I could be of any comfort to you&mdash;&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>"You can&mdash;you are. But I am selfish&mdash;your friends will be expecting
+you&mdash;&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>"I will drive into Stanton and send a telegram, if I may have the trap.
+Perhaps there might be some business I could do for you?"</p>
+
+<p>"One or two things, lad, if you would. I feel mazed. I can't think
+clearly. Let me see&mdash;&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>"I'll think for you," said Claud, slipping his arm into his; "and,
+first, I am going to take you straight home to have a glass of wine and
+some food. You are positively faint from exhaustion."</p>
+
+<p>"You must come too," said Mr. Fowler, to Percivale.</p>
+
+<p>"Thanks."</p>
+
+<p>The young man turned slowly round towards them.</p>
+
+<p>During the few foregoing sentences he had been gazing out seawards, with
+folded arms.</p>
+
+<p>"On second thoughts," he said to Claud, "I think that, before making the
+inquiries I speak of, I will see Miss Brabourne&mdash;if I can."</p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<h2>CHAPTER XXVIII.</h2>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i20">She stood on the floor,<br /></span>
+<span class="i12">Fair and still as the moonlight that came there before,<br /></span>
+<span class="i18">And a smile just beginning:<br /></span>
+<span class="i12">It touches her lips, but it dare not arise<br /></span>
+<span class="i12">To the height of the mystical sphere of her eyes,<br /></span>
+<span class="i12">And the large, musing eyes, neither joyous nor sorry,<br /></span>
+<span class="i12">Sing on like the angels in separate glory<br /></span>
+<span class="i18">Between clouds of amber.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i24"><i>Lay of the Brown Rosary.</i><br /></span>
+</div></div>
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+
+<p>The desolation and abandonment which had fallen upon Edge Willoughby
+cannot be described.</p>
+
+<p>The sisters knew not what to think, or say, or do. A vague notion that
+all employment was incongruous when suffering under a <i>bereavement</i> led
+them to sit in a circle round the dining-room, gazing at each other with
+stiff and pale faces, wondering if this nightmare-like day would ever
+end, and what would follow next.</p>
+
+<p>In the large drawing-room lay the motionless form of poor Godfrey, still
+and dead, in the gloom of closed blinds and drawn curtains. The same
+death-like quiet brooded over all the house. Miss Ellen lay on her couch
+in an agony of self-reproach, caused by the fact that it was owing to
+her influence entirely that the boy had come to Edge.</p>
+
+<p>Oh, that he had never come&mdash;that Elsa had never been subjected to the
+fiery trial which had terminated so fatally.</p>
+
+<p>It was all their fault, she told herself. They had grossly mismanaged
+the child&mdash;they had never sought her confidence, only exacted her
+submission. Now that Miss Ellen would have given everything she
+possessed for that confidence, it was, of course, obstinately withheld.
+No word could Elsa be made to speak, though, figuratively, they had all
+gone down on their knees to her.</p>
+
+<p>If she would only confess the truth&mdash;whatever it was they could pardon
+it, had been their piteous cry. But she would not speak. The only thing
+they could extract was an announcement that they all, she knew, took her
+for a murderess, and she would therefore not attempt to justify
+herself; and finally, all they could do was to allow her to go away into
+her own room and lock herself in. The whole situation was intensely
+awkward: for the Ortons were quartered upon them, and it was hard to say
+which was the greater&mdash;their dislike to being there, or the Misses
+Willoughbys' dislike to having them.</p>
+
+<p>On returning from the cliff, Ottilie had swept off all her belongings
+with a grand air, declaring that no human power should induce her to
+sleep under the same roof with Elsa, and had driven with her husband to
+the "Fountain Head," where they were met by William Clapp, who
+respectfully but firmly denied them admittance. "He had heard what the
+lady was pleased to say, aout on the beach this morning, and he warn't
+going t� harbor them as laid things o' that kind to the charge o' Miss
+Ullin as he had seen grow up, and meant to stand by to his dying day."</p>
+
+<p>There was absolutely no alternative but to go back ignominiously to Edge
+Willoughby, and beg for an asylum there till the inquest should be over.
+The request was granted with freezing hauteur by the sisters, Miss
+Charlotte adding that she thought it would be more pleasant for all
+parties if Mr. and Mrs. Orton had their meals served separately.</p>
+
+<p>The pair were out of doors now, wandering restlessly about, in quest of
+nobody quite knew what. When the bell sounded the sisters imagined that
+they had returned, and a tremor of excitement ran through the pallid
+assembly as the parlor-maid brought in a small card, on which was
+engraved simply:</p>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i18"><i>Mr. Percivale,</i><br /></span>
+<span class="i22"><i>Yacht "Swan."</i><br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+<p>The gentleman followed his card, and stood just inside the door, still
+in his nautical and somewhat unusual dress, cap in hand, and with his
+clear eyes fixed upon Miss Ellen.</p>
+
+<p>"May I come in?" he asked.</p>
+
+<p>"O&mdash;certainly!" fluttered Miss Ellen.</p>
+
+<p>He went straight across the room to her couch and took her hand.</p>
+
+<p>"I hope you will allow me to introduce myself," he said. "I am the
+unfortunate man who hurled such a bomb-shell into the midst of the
+village this morning. I am now engaged in doing my poor best to repair
+the mischief I have caused. Take courage, Miss Willoughby&mdash;your white
+dove shall not receive so much as a fleck on her gold and silver
+plumage."</p>
+
+<p>Miss Ellen could hardly speak for tears.</p>
+
+<p>"She is flecked already," she gasped. "A vile accusation has been
+levelled at her before a crowd of witnesses. We are disgraced."</p>
+
+<p>"I think the lady who made the accusation will be the one to feel
+disgraced," answered Mr. Percivale, taking a seat beside her. "Keep up
+heart, Miss Willoughby, I feel sure this frightful accusation will be
+easily proved false."</p>
+
+<p>She looked up with a sudden spasm of hope.</p>
+
+<p>"Then you really think&mdash;&mdash;" she began, and paused.</p>
+
+<p>"I think?" interrogatively.</p>
+
+<p>"You sincerely believe that Elaine is quite innocent of this&mdash;that she
+is as ignorant of the facts of the case as we are?" There was a
+feverish, frantic eagerness, in her voice as she spoke.</p>
+
+<p>"That is certainly my fixed belief," he said, calmly. "I fail to see how
+anyone could think otherwise. I know what you fear&mdash;that Miss Brabourne
+struck a blow in anger, and then was so horrified at its result that she
+dared not confess what she had done. There is a circumstance which
+renders this an impossible view of the case. Whoever murdered the poor
+boy afterwards scooped a shallow hole in the grass, partly out of sight
+beneath a bramble, and laid the body in it. To do this without becoming
+covered with blood and dirt would have been a miracle. Miss Brabourne
+came home last night, so Mr. Cranmer says, with the front of her dress
+marked with chalk; but there are plenty of witnesses, I think, to prove
+that she had no blood-stains, either on hands or dress, nor were her
+hands in the state they necessarily must have been had she dug a hole
+with insufficient tools."</p>
+
+<p>"That is true," said Miss Ellen, eagerly. "You shall see the dress if
+you like&mdash;it is soiled, but not nearly to that extent! This is
+hope&mdash;this is life. I never thought of all this before."</p>
+
+<p>"If you would allow me," went on the stranger, courteously, "I want to
+see more than Miss Brabourne's dress&mdash;I want an interview with her
+herself. Would you allow me to see her&mdash;alone?"</p>
+
+<p>There was a slight pause. Then Miss Charlotte spoke.</p>
+
+<p>"May I ask why you wish to see my niece in private?" she asked.</p>
+
+<p>"I will tell you frankly why. I am the only person who has fearlessly
+asserted from the first that I believe her to be innocent. I think it
+likely that she will, in consequence, accord me a confidence which she
+would withhold from anyone else."</p>
+
+<p>"He is right," said Miss Ellen, with tears. "She will not speak a word
+to us. We have never trusted her&mdash;we have let her see it; we have been
+very wrong. Take Mr. Percivale into the school-room, Emily, and see if
+you can induce Elsa to come down and see him."</p>
+
+<p>Percivale followed his guide into the small, dull room where most of
+Elsa's life had been passed. There were the instruments of her daily
+torture, the black-board, the globes, the slates and lesson-books, the
+rattling, inharmonious piano. Outside was the dip of the valley, the
+wooded height beyond, and, nearer, the wide sunny terrace, now a blaze
+of dahlias and chrysanthemums. He walked to the window and stood
+there&mdash;very still, and gazing out with eyes that did not betray the
+secret of what his thoughts might be. His cap lay on the small table
+near; leaning against the woodwork, he folded his arms, and so, without
+change of attitude or expression, awaited the entrance of the accused.</p>
+
+<p>Elsa came in after an interval of nearly a quarter-of-an-hour. She was
+white, and had evidently been weeping; but these accidents seemed
+scarcely to impair her beauty, while they heightened the strange
+interest which surrounded her, as it were, with an atmosphere of her
+own. Slowly closing the door behind her, she stood just within it, as
+still as he, and with her eyes fixed questioningly upon him, as if
+inquiring whether his first profession of faith in her had been shaken
+by what he had since heard.</p>
+
+<p>The slight sound of the lock made him rouse himself, and withdraw his
+gaze from the horizon to fix it upon her face. Over mouth, cheeks, and
+brow his eyes flickered till they rested upon hers; and for several
+moments they remained so, seeing only one another. The girl seemed
+reading him as she would read a page&mdash;as a condemned criminal might
+devour the lines which told him that his innocence was established.
+Gradually on her wistful face there dawned a smile&mdash;a ray of blessed
+assurance. She moved two steps forward, stopped, faltered, hid her face.</p>
+
+<p>He advanced quickly, stood beside her, and said,</p>
+
+<p>"I thank you."</p>
+
+<p>It made her look up hurriedly.</p>
+
+<p>"You&mdash;thank me?"</p>
+
+<p>"Yes; for your granting me this interview shows me that you are on my
+side&mdash;that you are going to sanction my poor efforts to help you. To
+what do I owe such honor? It ought to be the portion of some worthier
+knight than I; but, such as I am, I will fight for you if it costs me
+life itself."</p>
+
+<p>"You are&mdash;" she began, but her voice failed her. "I cannot say it,"
+cried she&mdash;"I cannot tell you how I think of you. You are a stranger,
+but you can see clearer than they can. Not one of them believes in
+me&mdash;not even my godfather. But you&mdash;you&mdash;" as if instinctively she held
+out both her hands.</p>
+
+<p>Taking them, he bent over them and lightly kissed them as he had done on
+the beach, with a grace which was not quite English. Then, flashing a
+glance round the room, he selected the least aggressively uncomfortable
+chair, and made her sit down in it. Leaning against the piano, in such
+an attitude that the whole droop of her posture and the hands which lay
+in her lap were clearly visible as he looked down upon her, he said:</p>
+
+<p>"I feel so ashamed to make you sit here and exert yourself to talk to a
+stranger when you are feeling so keenly. But I want you to help me by
+trying to remember certain incidents as clearly as you can. Will you
+try?"</p>
+
+<p>"I will do anything you tell me."</p>
+
+<p>"That is very good of you. Now forgive my hurrying you so, and plunging
+so abruptly into the midst of my subject, but my time is short&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>She started.</p>
+
+<p>"Are you going away?"</p>
+
+<p>A rush of most unwonted color mounted to Percivale's cheeks, and he
+hesitated a moment before his reply.</p>
+
+<p>"No; not going till your innocence is established; but the inquest will
+be held here the day after to-morrow, and I want to be in a position to
+show you blameless by then."</p>
+
+<p>She lifted her head and smiled up at him.</p>
+
+<p>"You can do it. I believe you could do <i>anything</i>," she said, softly.</p>
+
+<p>He looked at her steadily as he replied,</p>
+
+<p>"It does seem at this moment as though a great deal were possible."</p>
+
+<p>There was an eloquent pause, during which the hall clock struck loudly.
+Its sound roused Percivale, and he began his questioning.</p>
+
+<p>"First of all, I want to know exactly what happened during your walk
+with your brother yesterday. Can you remember, and will you tell me
+carefully, what time you started, where you went, and how you parted?
+For all these things are of great importance."</p>
+
+<p>"Yes; I will tell you exactly what happened. It was about half-past-two
+o'clock when my aunts said I was to go out with Godfrey. I did not want
+to go&mdash;for two reasons, both of which I will tell you. The first was
+that I was feeling very miserable because I had just said good-bye to my
+friends the Allonbys, who were gone to London&mdash;&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>"You will forgive me interrupting you one moment," he said, in a very
+still voice, and with a fixed expression, "but Mrs. Orton this morning
+said that you were going to be married. May I ask if you are engaged to
+Mr. Allonby, because if so I think he ought to be telegraphed for&mdash;it
+would not be my place&mdash;I am not privileged&mdash;&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>He broke off and waited. After a moment she said,</p>
+
+<p>"I am not engaged to Mr. Allonby."</p>
+
+<p>"Thank you. I hope you did not think I was unnecessarily curious?"</p>
+
+<p>"No."</p>
+
+<p>"And now to continue. What other reason had you for not wishing to go
+out with Godfrey?"</p>
+
+<p>"He had been very rude a fortnight before, and Mr. Allonby punished him.
+I knew he would try to revenge himself on me as soon as Mr. Allonby was
+gone&mdash;he said so."</p>
+
+<p>"Exactly; but you went?"</p>
+
+<p>"Yes, I was obliged to go. So we started along the Quarry Road, and when
+we got some way we began to quarrel. I had a book with me that Mr.
+Allonby had given me, and Godfrey tried to take it away. I would not let
+him, and he grew very angry. I held it above my head, and he sprung up
+and hung on me, and managed somehow to get his foot underneath mine, so
+that I slipped on the road, and he got the book. I was feeling very
+low-spirited, and so weary of his tiresome ways that I began to cry. We
+were on the road leading to the cliff from the quarries, close to the
+cottage where Mrs. Parker lives. She has a son called Saul who is an
+idiot, and he hates Godfrey, because he used to set his bull-dog at him.
+The other day Saul threw a stone at Godfrey from behind a tree, and hit
+his leg, and so Godfrey was determined to pay him out. When he saw the
+cottage it reminded him of this, so he said he should run home to the
+stable-yard, and get Venom, his dog. He turned back, and ran along the
+road towards home, and I was too tired and too unhappy to follow him. I
+thought I would give him the slip, so I just went off and hid myself in
+the woods by Boveney Hollow. I sat in the woods and cried for a long
+time, and at last the wind had risen so, and the sky looked so black and
+threatening, that I was frightened, and I guessed that Godfrey had gone
+home by that time, so I came out of the woods by the shortest way, and
+when I reached the high-road I met Mr. Fowler and Mr. Cranmer, so I went
+home with them."</p>
+
+<p>"And that was the last you saw of your brother?"</p>
+
+<p>"Yes."</p>
+
+<p>"He ran home to fetch his dog, in order to set it at Saul Parker the
+idiot?"</p>
+
+<p>"Yes. He had done it before. He said it was to teach Saul to behave
+himself; for you know poor Saul doesn't know any manners, and he is
+always rude to strangers, he hates them so. If he so much as sees the
+back of a person he does not know, he begins to scream with rage."</p>
+
+<p>"Is he&mdash;this idiot&mdash;considered dangerous?"</p>
+
+<p>"Dangerous? Oh, no, I think he is quite gentle, unless you tease him. At
+least, I do remember Clara Battishill saying that he was growing cruel.
+He is a big boy. Mr. Fowler tried to persuade his mother to let him go
+to a home, where they would teach him to occupy himself; but she cried
+so bitterly at the idea of losing him; he is all she has to love."</p>
+
+<p>Mr. Percivale was silent; his eyes perused the pattern of the worn
+carpet.</p>
+
+<p>Furtively Elsa lifted her eyelids, and critically examined his face. A
+high, noble-looking head, the eyes of a dreamer, the chin of a poet, the
+mouth of a man both resolute and pure.</p>
+
+<p>His fair moustache did not obscure the firm sweet line between the lips;
+something there was about him which did not belong to the nineteenth
+century; an atmosphere of lofty purpose and ideal simplicity. His
+expression was quite unlike anything one is accustomed to see. There was
+no cynicism, no spite, no half-amused, half-bored tolerance of a trivial
+world&mdash;none of that air of being exactly equipped for the circumstances
+in which he found himself, which belonged so completely to Claud
+Cranmer.</p>
+
+<p>This was a nature quite apart from its surroundings&mdash;a nature which had
+formed an ideal, and would never mingle but with the realization of this
+ideal. For this man the chances of happiness were terribly few; he could
+never adapt himself, never consent to put up with anything lower or less
+than he had dreamed of. If by the mysterious workings of fate he could
+meet and win a woman whose soul was as pure, whose standard as lofty as
+his own, he would enjoy a happiness undreamed of here below by the many
+thousands who soar not above mediocrity; but if&mdash;if, as was so terribly
+probable, he should make a mistake; if, after all, he took Leah instead
+of Rachel, he would touch a depth of misery and despair equally unknown
+to the generality of mankind. For him existed no possibility of
+compromise; his one hope of felicity rested upon the simple accident of
+whom he should fall in love with. And, by a strange paradox, the very
+loftiness of his nature and singleness of his mind rendered him far less
+capable of forming a true judgment than a man like Claud, who had
+"dipped in life's struggle and out again," had many times</p>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i8">"... tried in a crucible<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">To what 'speeches like gold' were reducible,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And found that the bravest prove copper."<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+<p>It seems a necessity, more or less, to judge human nature from one's own
+standpoint; and not only the bent of his mind, but the circumstances of
+his life, had held Percivale always aloof from the hurrying rush of
+modern society, from intrigue, or deceptions, or, in fact, from what is
+called knowledge of the world in any form.</p>
+
+<p>Hence the statuesque simplicity of his expression. Meanness, passion,
+competition were words of which he understood the meaning but had never
+felt the force. His face was like Thorwaldsen's sculptures&mdash;chivalrous,
+calm, steadfast.</p>
+
+<p>The reddish gold of his soft hair and short beard, the deep violet blue
+of his deep-set eyes, and the delicate character of his profile were all
+in harmony with this idea. He was artistic and picturesque with the
+unconsciousness of a by-gone age, not with the studied straining after
+effect which obtains to-day.</p>
+
+<p>He did not feel Elsa's eyes as they studied him so intently and so
+ignorantly. Not one of the characteristics above indicated was visible
+to the girl; she only wondered how he could be so handsome and so
+interesting with that strange-colored hair; and how old he was; and what
+he thought of her; and whether he would be able to cleave through the
+terrible net of horror and suspicion and fear which was drawing so
+closely round her.</p>
+
+<p>At last he raised his head, met her fixed regard, and, meeting it,
+smiled.</p>
+
+<p>"You have told me just what I wanted&mdash;what I hoped to hear," said he.
+"Now I must take leave for the present. I shall come up the first thing
+to-morrow morning to report progress."</p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<h2>CHAPTER XXIX.</h2>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i22">The pride<br /></span>
+<span class="i12">Of the day&mdash;my Swan&mdash;that a first fleck's fall<br /></span>
+<span class="i12">On her wonder of white must unswan, undo!<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i24"><i>The Worst of It.</i><br /></span>
+</div></div>
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+
+<p>It was evening when Percivale left Edge Willoughby, and walked slowly
+down the terrace, accompanied by dear little Miss Fanny, who had
+undertaken to show him the stile leading to the foot-path which was the
+nearest way to the quarries.</p>
+
+<p>Jackie, the chough, was strutting along the gravel in much
+self-importance, his body all sideways, his bright eye fixed on the
+stranger, and uttering his unmusical cry of, "Jack-ee! Jack-ee!"</p>
+
+<p>The young man paused, bent down, and caressed the bird, spite of the
+formidable-looking orange beak.</p>
+
+<p>"What a queer old chap!" he said.</p>
+
+<p>"Yes, he is quite a pet. Elsa is very fond of him," said Miss Fanny,
+seizing as eagerly as he had done on any topic of conversation which was
+not too heavily charged with emotion to be possible.</p>
+
+<p>Of the terrible issues so near at hand neither dared to speak. As if
+nothing more unusual than an afternoon call had transpired, Percivale
+asked of Jacky's age and extraction, learned that he was a Cornishman by
+birth, and of eccentric disposition, and so travelled safely along the
+wide gravel-walk, on one side of which the garden rose abruptly up,
+whilst on the other it sloped as suddenly down, losing itself in a maze
+of chrysanthemums, gooseberry-bushes, potatoes, and scarlet-runners,
+till a tall thorn hedge intervened to separate the garden from the
+cornfield, where the "mows" lay scattered about in every direction,
+dispersed and driven by the tempest of last night.</p>
+
+<p>So they gained the stile, and here Miss Fanny paused.</p>
+
+<p>"If you go down the hill by the foot-path, you will come out on the main
+road," she said, pointing with her dear little fat finger.</p>
+
+<p>"Thank you. Mr. Cranmer will meet me somewhere on the road&mdash;he said he
+would. I&mdash;I shall see you again as soon as&mdash;directly&mdash;as I said to your
+sister," stammered the young man, in an unfinished, fragmentary way.</p>
+
+<p>He took her hand, with the graceful gravity which characterized all his
+greetings of women.</p>
+
+<p>"Thank you," he said again, and, lifting his cap, vaulted over the
+stile, and walked rapidly down the foot-path.</p>
+
+<p>Miss Fanny gazed after him through a mist of tears, which she presently
+wiped away from her fresh cheeks, and trotted back to the terrace with
+an expression not devoid of hope.</p>
+
+<p>Her pigeons flew round her; they knew that it was past feeding-time. The
+gleaming wings flashed and circled in the light, and presently the
+gravel was covered with the pretty, strutting things, nodding their
+sheeny necks, and chuckling softly to each other.</p>
+
+<p>"Jack-ee! Jack-ee!" screamed the chough, discordantly, rushing in among
+their ranks, and routing them.</p>
+
+<p>"Jackie! Come here, you naughty bird!" cried Miss Fanny, interposing for
+the protection of her pets. "There! there! Go along, do! Go along,
+do!... I really don't know how it is&mdash;I do feel that I place such
+confidence in that young man! Quite a stranger, too! Very odd! But I
+feel as though a special Providence had sent that yacht our way to-day.
+It seems as though it had been sent purposely&mdash;it really does. Somehow,
+to-night, I feel as if help were near. No power can restore poor dear
+Godfrey, that's true; but we may save Elsa, I do hope and trust."</p>
+
+<p>Claud was leaning over the low stone wall of the highroad, when a touch
+on the shoulder roused him, and, looking up, he met Percivale's
+collected gaze.</p>
+
+<p>"Now, quick!" was all Percivale said; and, in a moment, both young men
+were hurrying along the Quarry Road as fast as their legs would carry
+them.</p>
+
+<p>They only spoke once; and then it was Claud who broke the silence.</p>
+
+<p>"Fowler thinks it hopeless&mdash;that you are altogether on a wrong track,"
+he said.</p>
+
+<p>"We shall see," was the response, in a tense voice which told of
+highly-strung nerves.</p>
+
+<p>Claud thought of his last journey along that road, staggering blindly in
+darkness and rain, with the screaming wind and thundering sea in his
+ears. Last night! Could it be only last night? A thousand years seemed
+to have elapsed since then. Life, just now, seemed made up of crisis;
+and he railed at himself for being hatefully heartless, because he could
+not help a certain feeling of excitement, which was almost like
+pleasure, in anticipating the <i>d�nouement</i> of the affair.</p>
+
+<p>A growing admiration for the strange owner of the <i>Swan</i> was his
+dominant sensation. There was a light of purpose in Percivale's eye, an
+air of conviction about his whole manner, which could not fail to
+influence his companion.</p>
+
+<p>The feelings of both young men were at a high pitch as they paused
+before the door of Mrs. Parker's somewhat remote cottage, and knocked.
+The woman opened the door and looked at her visitors in astonishment.
+One glance at her was enough to gauge her character in an instant. She
+was what country people call a "poor thing." Her expression was that of
+meek folly, and she wore a perpetual air of apology. Her red-rimmed,
+indefinite eyes suggested a perennial flow of tears, ready at the
+shortest notice, and her weak fingers fumbled at her untidy throat in
+fruitless efforts to hold together a dilapidated brown silk handkerchief
+which had become unfastened.</p>
+
+<p>"Good evening, gentlemen," she said, "what can I do for you?"</p>
+
+<p>Her air was mildly surprised.</p>
+
+<p>"We called in," said Claud, who was not unknown to her, "to ask if
+you've heard the awful news about the discovery on the cliffs this
+morning?"</p>
+
+<p>"Lord, no! She had heard never a word of it&mdash;nobody never took no
+trouble to look in and tell her any bit o' news as might be going; she
+might as well be dead and buried, for all the comfort she ever got out
+of <i>her</i> life," grumbled she, plaintively.</p>
+
+<p>Even at this juncture, Claud could not refrain from a cynical reflection
+on womanhood, as, in the person of the widow Parker, it calmly reckoned
+the news of a murder among the comforts of life.</p>
+
+<p>"Your son Saul&mdash;where is he? Doesn't he bring you the news?" asked he.</p>
+
+<p>"Lord no! not he! he mostly forgets it all on the way home, he don't
+keep nothing in his head for more than three minutes at a stretch. An'
+he ain't been outside the place to-day, for I've had a awful night with
+him," whined Mrs. Parker, sitting down on a chair and lifting a
+coal-black pocket-handkerchief to her eyes.</p>
+
+<p>"What, another fit?" asked Claud.</p>
+
+<p>"He was out last night in all that gale, if you'll believe me, sir. What
+he was after passes me, an' I set an' set awaitin' for him, and
+a-putting out my bit o' fire by opening the door, when the wind come in
+fit to blind yer, an' at last in he come, with every thread on him
+drippin' wet, and what he'd been after Lord knows, for not a word would
+he say but to call for his supper, and afore he'd 'ardly swallowed three
+mouthfuls he was took&mdash;&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>"Took?" put in Percivale, sharply.</p>
+
+<p>The widow paused, with her last pair of tears unwiped on her cheeks, and
+stared at him.</p>
+
+<p>"With a fit, sir&mdash;he suffers from fits, my poor boy do," she said.
+"<i>Epiplexy</i> the doctor do call it, and, whatever it is, it's a nasty
+thing to suffer with. It makes him sorft, poor lad, and the other chaps
+laughs at him, and it's very hard on him, for you see, now he's growin'
+up, he feels it. I ain't a Devonshire woman myself&mdash;I'm from London, I
+am, and I do say these Devonshire lads are a sight deal too rough and
+rude. When they was all little together, I could cuff them as hurt him,
+but they're too big for that now."</p>
+
+<p>There was no stopping her tongue. Poor soul! she led a lonely life, for
+her peevishness alienated her neighbors, who did not approve of the
+censure their manners and customs met with at her hands. She never could
+talk for five minutes to anyone without insisting on her London origin;
+and, as a result, it was but rarely that she could get an audience at
+all.</p>
+
+<p>The flood-gates of her eloquence were now opened, and she poured forth a
+lengthy string of grievances.</p>
+
+<p>"It's terrible hard on a woman like me, as never was strong at the best
+of times, to be left a widder with a boy like that on my hands! He's a
+head taller than 'is mother, and strong&mdash;bless yer! He could knock
+either o' you gentlemen down and think nothing of it, and you may think
+if he's easy to manage when he's took with his fits!"</p>
+
+<p>"You should send him away," said Claud, gravely. "Have you never thought
+that, if he is so strong, he might do somebody some harm in a fit of
+temper?"</p>
+
+<p>The woman looked attentive.</p>
+
+<p>"Well," she said, "I can't say I've ever give it much of a thought; but
+maybe you're right. But oh!" with a fresh access of tears, "I do call it
+hard to separate a poor widder from 'er only son! I do call it hard!"
+She set herself afresh to wipe her eyes, with shaking hands, reiterating
+her inconsistent complainings about the difficulties of managing Saul,
+and the cruelty of suggesting a separation; when suddenly, ceasing her
+whining and looking up, she said, "But you ain't told me the bit o'
+news, yet, have yer?"</p>
+
+<p>"You haven't given us much chance, my good woman," said Mr. Percivale.
+"The news is that young Mr. Godfrey Brabourne was found dead out on the
+cliffs this morning."</p>
+
+<p>As the words left his lips, a shuffling, thudding sound was heard, a
+door at the back of the little room was pushed open, and there stood
+Saul, leaning against the wall, attired merely in his shirt and
+trousers, the former open at the throat. His feet were bare, his thick
+yellow hair was matted, his cheeks were rosy and flushed; altogether he
+wore the look of having just that moment awakened from sleep.</p>
+
+<p>His great eyes, of Devon blue, looked out from beneath the tangled waves
+of hair with a shy smile. He recognised Claud, but, when his gaze fell
+on Percivale, his whole face changed. A look of fear and repulsion came
+over him&mdash;he uttered a hoarse cry or rather bellow, and, turning away,
+darted down a small dark passage and was lost to view.</p>
+
+<p>"There now! Did you ever!" cried his parent, indignantly. "Lord! what a
+fool the lad is! That's for nothing in life but because he seen you&mdash;"
+addressing Percivale, "and now he's gone to his hole, and nothing'll
+bring him out again perhaps for five or six hours, and nothing on him
+but his shirt and breeches! Oh, dear, dear, he'll kill me afore long,
+I'm blest if he won't!"</p>
+
+<p>"What do you mean by his hole?" asked Percivale.</p>
+
+<p>"It's a wood-shed as he's very partial to, an' hides all his treasures
+an' rubbish in there, out o' my reach. For it's very dark in there, and
+I can't get in very well, at least 'twouldn't be no use if I could,
+because I couldn't drive him out. I can't do nothing with him, when he's
+contrairy, and that's the truth, gentlemen."</p>
+
+<p>"But is it impossible to get into the woodshed?" continued Percivale,
+holding her to her point with a patience that made Claud marvel.</p>
+
+<p>"No, sir, but he's piled up the wood till you can only crawl in, and
+then as likely as not he'll hit you over the head," returned Mrs.
+Parker, encouragingly; "and it's that dark you can't see nothing when
+you <i>are</i> in, so it's no sense to try, as I can see."</p>
+
+<p>"Why on earth don't you nail the place up when he's out, so that he
+<i>can't</i> get in?" cried Claud, irritated beyond measure at her stupidity.</p>
+
+<p>"Well, I can't say I ever thought o' that," naively admitted the poor
+woman.</p>
+
+<p>"You are afraid Saul will take a chill if he stays there now?"
+interrogated Percivale.</p>
+
+<p>"I'm dead certain he will, sir!"</p>
+
+<p>"Very well, I'll go and fetch him out for you."</p>
+
+<p>"It ain't a bit o' use, sir," she cried, eagerly, "he'll never stir for
+you. He's mortal feared o' strange folks."</p>
+
+<p>"Never fear, I shall manage him," was the placid reply. "Give me a
+candle, will you?"</p>
+
+<p>He took the light in his hand, and followed the woman through the gloomy
+back regions of the little cottage to the wood-shed, the doorway of
+which was, as she had stated, barricaded with logs, in a sort of arch,
+so that only the lower half of it was practicable.</p>
+
+<p>"Saul! Are you in there?" cried his mother, shrilly.</p>
+
+<p>An idiotic gurgle of laughter, and a slight rustling, assured them of
+the fact.</p>
+
+<p>"If I push over this barricade, shall I hurt him?" asked Percivale.</p>
+
+<p>"No, sir, no&mdash;there's plenty of space beyond."</p>
+
+<p>"Here goes then," he answered; and placing his shoulder to the logs,
+handing the light to Claud, and getting a firm hold with his feet, he
+gave a vigorous heave, and the logs rolled clattering down, and about
+the shed.</p>
+
+<p>There was a scream from Saul, so loud and piercing that both young men
+thought he must be hurt. Snatching the candle, Percivale hurried in,
+over the prostrate defences. Saul was standing back against the wall, as
+far as he could get away, niched into a corner, his face hidden in his
+arms.</p>
+
+<p>"Come, Saul, my boy&mdash;come out of this dark place," said the intruder, in
+kindly tones. "Come&mdash;look at me&mdash;what is there to be afraid of?"</p>
+
+<p>The boy removed his screening arm from before his eyes with the pretty
+coquetry of a shy baby. He had apparently forgotten his rage, for he
+laughed&mdash;a low, chuckling laugh&mdash;and fixed his look appealingly on the
+stranger.</p>
+
+<p>"What made you run away&mdash;eh?" asked Percivale, gently.</p>
+
+<p>But no answer could be extorted from Saul. He would only laugh, hide his
+face, and peep again, with coy looks, from under his long lashes.</p>
+
+<p>Percivale flashed a look round him, and decided on making a venture to
+arouse some consciousness. By the light of the candle he held, every
+line of the lad's face was distinctly visible. Outside, Mrs. Parker was
+talking too volubly to Claud to hear what he might say.</p>
+
+<p>"Saul," he said, "where is Master Godfrey?"</p>
+
+<p>For a moment a spasm of terror crossed the beautiful face&mdash;a look which
+somehow suggested the dim return of intelligence once possessed; for it
+seemed evident that Saul had not always been absolutely idiotic, but
+that what brain he had had gradually been destroyed by epilepsy. His
+eyes dwelt with a look of speculation on those of his questioner, and
+his lips parted as if an answer were forced from him.</p>
+
+<p>"Out there!" he whispered.</p>
+
+<p>"What, out on the cliffs?"</p>
+
+<p>He nodded.</p>
+
+<p>"Is he dead&mdash;is Master Godfrey dead?" said Percivale, still keeping his
+eyes fixed on his by a strong effort of will.</p>
+
+<p>Saul nodded again.</p>
+
+<p>"Dead," he said, "quite dead! Naughty boy!"</p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<h2>CHAPTER XXX.</h2>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i22">East, west,<br /></span>
+<span class="i12">North, south I looked. The lie was dead<br /></span>
+<span class="i12">And damned, and Truth stood up instead.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i24"><i>Count Gismond.</i><br /></span>
+</div></div>
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+
+<p>Henry Fowler came out of the stables with heavy gait, and face from
+which the genial curves had fled. To-night you saw him in all his native
+plainness,&mdash;his leaden-colored eyes, unredeemed by the steady beam of
+cheery benevolence which usually dwelt there&mdash;his roughly-cut,
+ill-formed features, unsoftened by the suggestion of kindly peace which
+was their wonted expression.</p>
+
+<p>Figuratively speaking, he was smitten to the earth&mdash;humbled, abased, as
+he had never dreamed he could be. No room was in his mind for doubt. He
+saw, as he imagined, only too plainly, the whole of the tragedy on the
+cliffs&mdash;saw Elsa's very attitude and expression as, goaded to fury by
+the impudence of the boy, she had dealt him a wild, blind blow, the
+outcome of weeks and weeks of pent-up rage and dislike.</p>
+
+<p>Had she only told him, at once! Had she, on meeting him and Claud in the
+lane, only seized him, clung to him, cried for help and dragged him to
+the rescue, even though too late. But no! Her first impulse had been to
+hide what she had done. It was so fatally of a piece with his idea of
+her character. What to do&mdash;how to face the Misses Willoughby he could
+not tell.</p>
+
+<p>Once before&mdash;more than twenty years ago now&mdash;his life had been laid in
+ruins at his feet by the news of Alice Willoughby's engagement to
+Colonel Brabourne. Now, by Alice's child, this second bitter blow
+descended on the head of him who had borne the first so well and
+uncomplainingly.</p>
+
+<p>His one interest in life centred in Elsa Brabourne. The morning's
+intelligence had seemed to paralyse him. Like a man smitten suddenly in
+the face, he was left breathless&mdash;unable to rally or to fix on any plan
+of action.</p>
+
+<p>He was just returned from Philmouth, where he had been to interview the
+coroner and to make what arrangements were necessary. But, now that it
+was done, he could not remember whether he had done it or not. The whole
+drive there and back was a confused blur in his mind&mdash;he wondered
+whether he had managed to conduct himself rationally, to explain himself
+adequately. Before his eyes, as plainly as if he saw it still, was the
+picture of a child's pallid face, peaked and grey with death, dashed
+here and there with blood, and in its expression horridly, fatally
+resembling Elsa.</p>
+
+<p>Turn where he would, he saw it, with the lips discolored, the large eyes
+wide open, the little childish hands clenched in the agony of the sudden
+fruitless wrestle with death.</p>
+
+<p>"If she saw it," he repeated to himself, "if she saw it, would it not
+have sent her mad? So young as she is&mdash;she has never seen death! Oh,
+merciful God, is it possible she could have looked at him and kept her
+reason?"</p>
+
+<p>It was dark: the moon had not yet risen above the black hillside, and in
+the stables everything was very still. George the groom moved to and fro
+with a stable lantern in the harness-room above, and the shaft of light
+which gleamed down the staircase was the only light there was. George
+knew his master was in trouble, and longed to comfort him. Mr. Fowler
+was one of those who are always liked, and always well served by their
+inferiors. Everything about his house and estate was in excellent order.
+He never raised his voice, but his commands were always instantly
+obeyed.</p>
+
+<p>Here, in the stable, everything was trim and fresh, smelling of new-mown
+hay. Dart, the pretty little black mare, knowing that her master was
+somewhere near, turned her head wistfully to seek him. But he saw and
+heard nothing of his surroundings. In fancy, he was standing on the
+cliff, in the wind and sunshine, looking down upon a child's corpse.</p>
+
+<p>He felt as though he must suffocate.</p>
+
+<p>Rousing himself, he groped towards the door, pushed it open, and let the
+night air fan him. The rush of the brook through the garden sounded in
+his ears. Down, away across the valley, was the dark water in the bay,
+the hulk of the yacht dimly discernible through the faint mist. A wild
+idea crossed his mind as to whether it might not be possible to take
+Elsa secretly on board of the <i>Swan</i>, weigh anchor in the night, and
+carry away the girl to some other land, where a home might be made for
+her. A moment's reflection served to show the absurdity of such a
+scheme, and he laughed bitterly to himself as he realised the
+impossibility of casting such a record behind in the girl's life, and
+starting fresh again.</p>
+
+<p>Oh, to be able to go back for twenty-four hours! to be again, if but for
+one minute, the happy man he was when he walked at Claud's side through
+the storm to Brent. If the intervening minutes could be wiped out, as
+one wipes a child's sum from a slate, with a wet sponge!</p>
+
+<p>No use, no use, to cry out against the inevitable. Somehow or another,
+this horror which had come upon him must be lived through. He must not
+only bear it, but help others to bear it too.</p>
+
+<p>Slowly emerging from the stable, he shut the door behind him with a
+click; and, as he did so, he became aware of a sound of hurrying
+footsteps, of some one coming fast over the wooden bridge which spanned
+the brook, and making for the house with all speed.</p>
+
+<p>It was Claud, and there was in his manner such unusual velocity and
+vehemence that Mr. Fowler started forward, and ran hastily after him.</p>
+
+<p>They met in the hall. Claud had just flung the door wide, and was making
+the rafters ring with cries of, "Fowler! Fowler, I say!" when the owner
+of the name rushed in with white face and eager eyes, expecting he knew
+not what.</p>
+
+<p>Claud was in such a state as his host had never before witnessed; his
+hat was off, his cheeks glowing, his collar and tie awry, his usually
+immaculate hair all a standing mass of fluff, blown hither and thither
+by the wind, and his quiet eyes like two stars in their brilliancy and
+excitement.</p>
+
+<p>"Cranmer, my good fellow, what is it?" faltered Henry.</p>
+
+<p>"What is it? Why, the best news you ever heard in all your life! That
+extraordinary fellow Percivale has done the whole thing! There's not a
+doubt of it. Saul Parker was the assailant of Allonby and the murderer
+of poor little Godfrey! The whole thing is as clear as daylight!" Henry
+put out a hand uncertainly, as if to feel for the support of the wall.
+Claud darted to him, took the hand, and placed it on his own shoulder
+instead. "Look up, old man," he said, unable to keep his lips from
+smiles, his eyes from dancing. "All this is true as Gospel that I'm
+telling you."</p>
+
+<p>Henry cleared his throat once or twice. Then&mdash;</p>
+
+<p>"It can't be," he said, huskily, "it can't be. It's preposterous. What
+proof have you?"</p>
+
+<p>"The proof of Saul's coat and waistcoat soaked in blood&mdash;the proof of
+Godfrey's pocket-handkerchief steeped also in blood, rolled into a ball
+in the pocket of his jacket; and, last of all, what do you think, my
+friend? The proof of Mrs. Clapp's pudding-basin, tied up in the original
+and genuine blue handkerchief!"</p>
+
+<p>The face of agitation which Mr. Fowler turned to the speaker was pitiful
+to see.</p>
+
+<p>"You&mdash;you mean this," he said speaking thickly, like a drunken man; "you
+would never jest on such a subject&mdash;eh, lad?"</p>
+
+<p>"Jest? Is it likely? Do I look as if I were jesting? I can tell you I
+don't feel so. I couldn't put on that pace for a jest. My throat is as
+sore as if I were sickening for scarlet fever, and my heart feels as if
+it would burst through my ribs. I ran&mdash;all the way&mdash;from Parker's
+cottage&mdash;to tell you about it."</p>
+
+<p>Henry was grasping him by both shoulders now, and clinging to him as if
+the floor were unsteady beneath his feet.</p>
+
+<p>"You ran to tell me," he repeated, mechanically&mdash;"to tell me&mdash;what?
+Claud, if this is true, it means life to me&mdash;life to those good women
+yonder&mdash;it means <i>salvation</i> for her, for my poor little girl, for
+Elsa!"</p>
+
+<p>His forehead sank on his outstretched arm, and his broad shoulders
+quivered.</p>
+
+<p>Claud softly patted his back, his own bright face all alight with
+unselfish gladness.</p>
+
+<p>"It's all true," he said, "true beyond your power to disbelieve. That
+Percivale is a wonderful fellow. Once he struck the scent, he stuck to
+it like a sleuth-hound. Every bit of evidence tallies exactly. The
+whole thing is as clear as daylight. All I marvel at now is that Saul
+Parker has been allowed to be at large for so long&mdash;how it was that
+nobody insisted on his being shut up."</p>
+
+<p>"But I never knew he was really dangerous," said Henry. "Such a thing as
+a murderous attack, I mean&mdash;I knew that lately he had taken to throwing
+stones, and I told him the other day that I should flog him if I found
+it out again. He has sense enough to know what he is not to do&mdash;that is
+what makes him so difficult to deal with. But that he should attempt
+murder!"</p>
+
+<p>"I remember him so well, in the Battishills' kitchen, the day he nearly
+did for poor Allonby," said Claud. "He must have hidden his
+pudding-basin, after eating the contents, somewhere in a hedge, and
+walked, calmly smiling, up to the farm, immediately after his first
+attempt at slaughter. Ugh! It's a grisly thought, isn't it, that we all
+have been walking calmly about all this summer with such a sword of
+Damocles over our heads. Why, those girls&mdash;the Miss Allonbys&mdash;he might
+have attacked them at any moment; they were all strangers."</p>
+
+<p>"Yes, but they had spoken to him, and been kind to him. Poor Godfrey
+owes his fate to his own malignity, I am afraid," said Henry, turning
+away with a heavy sigh. He passed his hand over his brow as if to clear
+it, and then, lifting his eyes to Claud's, smiled for the first time in
+many hours. "I feel as if you had waked me out of a nightmare," he
+said&mdash;"a horror that was overwhelming&mdash;that shut out everything, even
+hope ... and God. Now that it is over, I wonder how I could have brought
+myself to believe such a thing of her." He spoke slowly, and at
+intervals, as each thought occurred to him. "Poor child! poor slandered
+child! Claud, she must know it to-night. We must save her so many hours
+of suffering&mdash;we must tell her now. Where is Mr. Percivale?"</p>
+
+<p>"He is gone there&mdash;straight&mdash;to Edge. I parted from him at the
+cross-roads, and ran up here for you."</p>
+
+<p>"He has every right to be first," faltered Henry. "Will anything I can
+do for Elsa ever atone for the wrong of my unjust suspicion? God pardon
+me! I was <i>sure</i> she was guilty."</p>
+
+<p>"You had strong grounds."</p>
+
+<p>"I never dreamed of connecting it in any way with poor Allonby's
+disaster. I never thought of it in connection with anything else at all.
+It simply seemed to flare out upon me like a conflagration, blotting out
+everything else in the world. It numbed my faculties."</p>
+
+<p>"I know it did. Never mind, now,. It is all right, the darkness is over
+past, the horror is slain. Come, shall we go to Edge?"</p>
+
+<p>"Yes, Claud. God bless you, my boy&mdash;you thought of me&mdash;you would not go
+on without me. We must be close friends after this, all our lives."</p>
+
+<p>"We shall&mdash;I hope and believe."</p>
+
+<p>The young man set the door wide. The lamp from the hall streamed out
+into the quiet night. The soft rustling of the trees mingled with the
+rushing of the falling brook. Walking down the grassy slope, they came
+upon the bridge. A silent, solitary figure stood upon it, leaning upon
+the parapet and gazing down upon the unseen but vocal waters as they
+hurried past.</p>
+
+<p>"Percivale!" said Claud, with a start.</p>
+
+<p>"Yes." He roused himself, and answered as tranquilly as if that day had
+passed in the most ordinary routine. "I thought it was unfair to steal a
+march upon you both, so I followed you here, and waited."</p>
+
+<p>"Then you have not been to Edge?"</p>
+
+<p>"Not yet."</p>
+
+<p>Without another word they set off walking as fast as they could. Henry
+longed for words to thank and bless the young man at his side; but the
+tongue does not always obey the will, and he found none.</p>
+
+<p>The dew was heavy on the pastures; the last remnants of wind were
+dropping down to sleep. Life and the world seemed now as full of repose
+as this morning they had been instinct with tragedy, and with rapid,
+terrifying motion. No glimmer in any of the cottages, no moon to light
+the rich purple recesses of darkness which enveloped the sea. Henry led
+the way among the winding foot-paths&mdash;a way which he could have trodden
+blindfold&mdash;the others followed in complete silence.</p>
+
+<p>As they neared the house, a solitary light appeared,&mdash;it was in Miss
+Ellen's window.</p>
+
+<p>Henry threw some pebbles up at the glass, and presently the pane was
+opened, and the invalid appeared. She was still quite dressed.</p>
+
+<p>"Let us in, Miss Ellen," said Mr. Fowler, in subdued accents. "Let us
+in&mdash;we could not rest till morning. Mr. Percivale has news for you."</p>
+
+<p>"One moment&mdash;I will send some one down to you."</p>
+
+<p>She disappeared, and for several silent minutes they waited in the
+porch. A great bush of lemon-scented verbena grew there. Claud used to
+pull a leaf of it and crush it in his hand whenever he came in or out.
+Now, in the still night, the strong fragrance reeked from it, and to
+each of the three men waiting there, that scent always afterwards
+recalled that scene.</p>
+
+<p>The bolts were drawn at last, and there stood Jane Gollop, in night
+attire of the most wondrous aspect.</p>
+
+<p>"Come in, gentlemen," said she, in subdued accents and a husky voice
+which told of bitter weeping. "You must come upstairs into Miss
+Willoughby's room, if you wish to see her; as you know, she can't come
+down to you. Will you kindly tread very softly, please?"</p>
+
+<p>"I'll wait down here for you two," whispered Claud.</p>
+
+<p>"No, no, my boy. Come up with me," returned Mr. Fowler, firmly.</p>
+
+<p>In single file they followed Jane up the staircase, in a silence broken
+only by the ticking of the great clock on the stairs.</p>
+
+<p>Miss Ellen sat upright on her sofa, awaiting them. As they entered, she
+held up a warning finger, and said, "Hush!"</p>
+
+<p>Following the direction of her eyes, they noticed that a screen had been
+drawn round the bed, hiding it from view. They waited, and so silent
+were they, that from behind this screen a low, regular breathing was
+audible.</p>
+
+<p>Miss Willoughby looked at her visitors with a sort of defiance&mdash;a noble
+defiance&mdash;on her worn face. Her eyes were luminous and steadfast.</p>
+
+<p>"I don't know what is your errand here to-night," she said, speaking
+scarcely above a whisper,&mdash;"something very important, I feel sure; but,
+before any of you speak one word, I have something to say, and something
+to show you. Henry Fowler, I believe we are wronging Elaine."</p>
+
+<p>He started, and turned towards her.</p>
+
+<p>"Yes; I feel sure we are wronging her&mdash;so sure, that it amounts, with
+me, to a moral conviction of her innocence. I want to tell you, all
+three, before a word has been said&mdash;before anything is proved either
+way&mdash;that I am confident that my niece is altogether innocent. I would
+say the same if a jury had condemned her to death. She had no share in
+this crime. I am glad you are all here&mdash;I will take your opinion. Henry,
+fold back the screen, as noiselessly as possible, and tell me, all of
+you, if that sleep is the sleep of conscious guilt."</p>
+
+<p>In a dead silence Henry went forward, and moved away the screen.</p>
+
+<p>Stretched on the bed lay Elsa, all her golden shower of hair loose, and
+streaming over the pillows. She wore a pale blue wrapper, and Miss Ellen
+had thrown a shawl across her feet to prevent her taking a chill. The
+girl's whole attitude was that of weariness, and profound, healthy,
+natural repose. The soft, warm rose of sleep was on each cheek, the
+black-fringed lids hid the large eyes, the breathing was as regular as
+that of an infant, and the expression exquisitely sweet.</p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<h2>CHAPTER XXXI.</h2>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i28">He looked,<br /></span>
+<span class="i12">Ocean and earth, the solid frame of earth<br /></span>
+<span class="i12">And ocean's liquid mass beneath him lay<br /></span>
+<span class="i12">In gladness and deep joy. The clouds were touched,<br /></span>
+<span class="i12">And in their silent faces did he read<br /></span>
+<span class="i12">Unutterable love....<br /></span>
+<span class="i12">No thanks he breathed, he proffered no request;<br /></span>
+<span class="i12">Rapt with still communion that transcends<br /></span>
+<span class="i12">The imperfect offices of prayer and praise,<br /></span>
+<span class="i12">His mind was a thanksgiving to the Power<br /></span>
+<span class="i12">That made him; it was blessedness and love!<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i24"><i>The Excursion.</i><br /></span>
+</div></div>
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+
+<p>Spell-bound, the three gentlemen stood looking at the sleeping girl,
+till the pause was broken by Miss Ellen.</p>
+
+<p>"Well?" she said, "what do you think?"</p>
+
+<p>Henry Fowler opened his lips to speak, but closed them again, with a
+glance at Percivale.</p>
+
+<p>The glance was unheeded, the young man was standing with a look on his
+face which, for some inexplicable reason, made Henry's heart leap in his
+side. So might Adam have looked on Eve when first he saw her sleeping&mdash;a
+look of intense admiration, mixed with a reverence that was almost
+worship. He seems to have forgotten everything but the fact that he
+stood there, by a wonderful chance, gazing at this consecrated girlish
+slumber.</p>
+
+<p>Claud, who stood next him, at last put out his hand, and lightly touched
+his arm. He started.</p>
+
+<p>"Will you tell Miss Willoughby?" whispered Claud.</p>
+
+<p>He shook his head.</p>
+
+<p>"Let Mr. Fowler tell her," he replied, gently.</p>
+
+<p>"You have not answered my question&mdash;do you believe in her innocence?"
+said Miss Ellen, appealing to all three.</p>
+
+<p>"We know she is innocent, dear Miss Ellen. Mr. Percivale has proved it."</p>
+
+<p>It was too much; she uttered a cry, and, at the cry, Elsa started from
+sleep, and sat upright, pushing back her cloudy hair, and in speechless
+bewilderment at finding herself in her aunt's room, still half dressed,
+and in presence of three gentlemen. The lovely crimson flooded her face
+as she tried to collect her thoughts, and to rise.</p>
+
+<p>A scene of some confusion ensued.</p>
+
+<p>Miss Ellen, in her agitation, was trying to ask for an explanation, with
+her voice dissolved in tears. Elsa, springing from the bed, moved
+towards her, still half-awake, vaguely troubled&mdash;foreseeing some fresh
+catastrophe; and then Mr. Fowler caught her in his arms, kissing her and
+somewhat incoherently imploring her to forgive him, while Percivale
+stood at a little distance, speaking only with his eyes. And those eyes
+set the girl's heart throbbing and raised a wild tumult in her. So by
+degrees everything was explained, nobody exactly knew how; but, in the
+course of half-an-hour, Elsa knew that she was saved, and that she owed
+her salvation solely to him who stood before her, with his head lowered,
+and the lamplight gilding the soft, downy, curling mass of his hair.
+They did not stay long. It was he who hurried them away, that they might
+not break in too far on the girl's rest.</p>
+
+<p>Miss Willoughby could hardly let him go. Something about this young
+man's whole appearance and manner appealed wonderfully to her
+sympathies. She held his hand long in hers, looking at him with eyes
+swimming in grateful tears.</p>
+
+<p>"You know," he said, with a smile, "you will insist on so greatly
+exaggerating what I have done; it was quite simple and obvious; I merely
+set on foot an investigation."</p>
+
+<p>"It may have been simple and obvious, but it never occurred to anybody
+but you," said Claud, bluntly.</p>
+
+<p>"No; because you were all biassed. I told you so. I am very sorry for
+that poor mother&mdash;for Mrs. Parker. I shall go to her early next morning.
+It was pitiful to see her. She was so utterly without the least
+suspicion of what I was driving at, that I felt like a traitor, worming
+myself into her confidence. Good-night, Miss Brabourne. You will sleep
+again, I hope."</p>
+
+<p>"I don't know, I don't feel the least bit sleepy," said Elsa,
+feverishly; "and it is nearly morning now, you know."</p>
+
+<p>Henry started.</p>
+
+<p>"Is it so late? I had no idea. Come, we must be off at once."</p>
+
+<p>Outside, the blackness of the night was just decreasing. The clouds
+which had gathered in the evening were rolling away, leaving gaps full
+of pallid stars. A chill cold pierced the limbs, and the heavy dew of
+autumn bathed all the vegetation.</p>
+
+<p>"You will come home with us, of course?" said Mr. Fowler to Percivale.</p>
+
+<p>"No, thanks, I can't. I must go aboard my <i>Swan</i>. The men are waiting
+for me on the shore."</p>
+
+<p>"All this time? Are you sure?"</p>
+
+<p>"Quite sure. Good-night."</p>
+
+<p>"Nay, nay; we'll see you down to the beach. Your crew may have grown
+tired of waiting, in which case you must come to Lower House."</p>
+
+<p>They walked on for some time indulging in desultory conversation, when
+suddenly Henry remarked to Claud,</p>
+
+<p>"Poor Allonby ought to know of this."</p>
+
+<p>Percivale turned towards him, and looked searchingly at him. It was
+light enough for them to see each other's faces now.</p>
+
+<p>"There is no engagement between Mr. Allonby and Miss Brabourne?" he
+asked.</p>
+
+<p>"No, none. I see more than ever now how wise I was to refuse to allow
+it. He is a good fellow, but she did not really care for him&mdash;she does
+not know what love means&mdash;she had never met a young man till this
+summer. I told him he must give her time. Personally I like him. He has
+no money and has no prospects, but I do not think he is a
+fortune-hunter. Let her go through the fire of a year in London, and
+find out what her tastes and inclinations really are."</p>
+
+<p>Percivale listened to all this with a rivetted attention, but made no
+reply; and now they were on the beach, their steps crunching upon the
+shingle.</p>
+
+<p>A seaman stood, with his broad back turned to them, looking out over the
+smooth, leaden expanse of sea. In the boat a second man was fast asleep.
+Out in the bay, a lamp glimmered, showing the graceful shadowy outline
+of the yacht.</p>
+
+<p>"M�ller!" said Percivale.</p>
+
+<p>The man turned at once. His master addressed him in German, in a glad
+voice which left little doubt as to the tidings he was relating. A broad
+grin gradually broke over the man's face, and he waved his cap
+ecstatically, shouting hurrah! Then he ran to rouse his companion, who
+was soon acquainted with the joyful news, and a grand shaking of hands
+all round took place. Then Percivale, taking leave of Henry and Claud,
+stepped into the boat, and the keel grated on the beach as it slipped
+into the chill, steely colored waters. The two on the beach stood
+together, watching as the oars dipped, and the waves broke softly. It
+was a sight worth watching, for a marvellous change was coming over the
+world, a change so mysterious, so exciting, so full of beauty, that they
+began to wonder, as all of us have wondered in our time, why they were
+not oftener awake to see the breaking of the day.</p>
+
+<p>A scarlet flush was rimming the east, and a glow began to creep over the
+dull sea. Further and further it spread, while everything around took
+clear and definite form. The cliffs, the landslip, the coastguard
+station, the shore, all grew out gradually and yet rapidly from the
+darkness, and every moment the color waxed more bright, and the sky,
+which had seemed so dense, became translucent and dark blue, while one
+by one the pale stars went out, extinguished by the rosy-fingered Eos.</p>
+
+<p>A cold fresh breeze whistled by, and Claud shivered as it passed. It
+reminded him of the sad sighing of old Tithonus, left helpless in the
+cold regions of the dark, whilst Aurora, warm and blooming, sprang up to
+meet the sun. Unconsciously to himself, he wished that Wynifred Allonby
+stood by him to watch that dawn&mdash;she would have understood. He could
+not talk of Tithonus to Henry Fowler. His eye roamed over</p>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">"The ever silent spaces of the East,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Far-folded mists, and gleaming halls of morn."<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+<p>Ah! what was that which shivered like a silver arrow through the dull
+haze that brooded over the sluggish waters? The mist had become
+transparent, golden, luminous&mdash;such a glory as might any moment break
+away to disclose the New Jerusalem coming down out of the heaven of
+heavens.</p>
+
+<p>And now the whole sea was one mass of pearly and rose and amber light,
+which had not as yet faded into "the light of common day." All was
+illusion&mdash;the infancy of day, the time of fairy-tales, like that
+childhood of the world when wonders happened, and "Ilion, like a mist,
+rose into towers."</p>
+
+<p>A slight exclamation from Henry broke his musing, and made him turn his
+head.</p>
+
+<p>The <i>Swan</i> lay motionless, her whiteness warmed and softened by the
+still mysterious light, till it looked almost like the plumage of the
+bird whose name she bore. The radiance gleamed on the motionless sails,
+and shimmered on the sea all round her.</p>
+
+<p>Close to the prow stood Percivale. He had taken off his coat, and looked
+all white as he stood in the glow. Lifting his hat, he waved it to the
+watchers on the shore, with a gesture like that of one victorious, and,
+as he did so, up darted the sun with a leap above the sea, and its first
+ray shot straight across the sparkling water, to rest on his fair head
+like a benediction.</p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<h2>CHAPTER XXXII.</h2>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i12">But most of all would I flee from the cruel madness of love.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i24"><i>Maud.</i><br /></span>
+</div></div>
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+
+<p>There was a deep silence between Fowler and Claud as they walked
+homewards in that dewy autumn dawn. Every moment increased the beauty of
+the scene through which they walked&mdash;the little brooks which continually
+crossed their path rushed vehemently, swollen with the heavy rain which
+had fallen on the night of the storm. A balmy feeling was in the still
+air&mdash;a full, ripe feeling of autumn, and even now the beams of the sun
+were warm. It was going to be a hot day, such a day as shooters love
+amongst the stubble&mdash;such a day as swells the blackberry to a luscious
+bulk and flavor. Autumn in her warmth and beauty and her panoply of
+varying moods; not summer back again. She, as Claud had divined, was
+gone for this year, not to return again; she had died shrieking, in the
+storm that drove the <i>Swan</i> into Brent Bay, and the wild sou'-wester had
+sung her obsequies.</p>
+
+<p>Is there anything more wonderful in nature than the rich moisture with
+which an English autumn night will deluge every spray and every leaf and
+every grass-blade? The pastures this morning were hoary with pearly
+drops, the beeches and ashes literally drenched with wet, which showered
+itself on the heads of the two as a light bird clung to the bough and
+set it swaying. Already the sun was drawing it up like steam from the
+contented land, making a mist which hid the windings of the valley from
+their view.</p>
+
+<p>It pleased Claud to imagine that the old earth was at her toilette&mdash;had
+just emerged, dripping, from her matutinal tub. This conceit reminded
+him of his own tub, for which he had a strong hankering. He did not feel
+sleepy; a bath and a cigar were all that he desired.</p>
+
+<p>What a strange night it had been!</p>
+
+<p>This particular summer had brought him more new sensations, more
+experiences than all the rest of his life put together. He felt as if it
+had altered him, somehow. He was not the same person who had been
+stopped as he drove along the Philmouth Road by a girl with scared face
+and streaming hair. Circumstances over which he, apparently, had very
+little control had forced him to remain here in this valley, and for the
+space of one summer, look at life from a totally new point of view. He
+was wondering whether it would last. For the first time he had met men
+and women who, his inferiors in social standing, were yet his equals in
+breeding and manners&mdash;a man like Henry Fowler, probably a son of the
+soil, the descendant of generations of farmers, who in chivalry and in
+purity of mind would put many a Lord Harry of his acquaintance to shame;
+girls like the Allonbys, who worked for their living, yet in delicacy
+and refinement&mdash;ay, and looks too,&mdash;equalled all and surpassed most of
+the women who formed the "set" he moved in.</p>
+
+<p>He had always imagined himself a leveller at heart, one who ignored
+social distinctions. Now he had been given opportunity to put his
+theories into practice; and he found, as most people do, that theory and
+practice are different in some mysterious way. A struggle was going on
+in his mind, a struggle of which he was hardly conscious, and of which,
+had he put it into words, he would have been heartily ashamed. The point
+at issue was a small one, but, like the proverbial straw, it showed
+which way the current flowed.</p>
+
+<p>Should he, when in town, call on the Allonbys? That was the point that
+vexed his mind&mdash;the point that was never quite out of sight, even in all
+the congested excitement of the last two days. As he walked up the
+meadow footpath to-day, towards Lower House, it was his fixed intention
+to call upon them; but would that intention hold a month hence, as he
+strolled down Portland Place towards the parental mansion? That was the
+trouble. Was this fancy which possessed him now&mdash;this fancy for a life
+in the country, with only a small income and the society of one woman, a
+fancy only? Or was it something more? Would it wash? Such was the slangy
+but forcible way in which he expressed it. He could not be sure. His
+mind was so tossed and disturbed that he felt as though, either way he
+decided, he must infallibly regret it.</p>
+
+<p>The idea of never seeing Wynifred again was anything but pleasant; the
+idea of having her always at his side was too vague to be wholly
+comforting. He believed he should like a middle course&mdash;her society when
+he felt inclined for it, now and then, but no binding down in the
+matter. And yet he felt dimly that this idea could not be worked,
+exactly, and this for more than one reason. First, because he felt sure
+that, if he ever saw her at all, his feelings with regard to her could
+not remain stationary. He must grow to want her either less or more.
+Secondly, because his notions of honor were strict, and he felt that, if
+he, an earl's son, sought out the Allonbys, and appeared bent on the
+society of Wynifred in particular, it might be unpleasant for her, if
+nothing came of it.</p>
+
+<p>And then, suddenly, arose the reflection that all this reasoning was
+based on the supposition that Miss Allonby would have him if she could;
+a point on which, when he came to consider it, he felt by no means
+certain.</p>
+
+<p>This was humiliating. As they came to the wicket-gate of Lower House, he
+finally decided <i>not</i> to call at Mansfield Road. He was not going to be
+made a fool of.</p>
+
+<p>And, even as he made this resolution, arose the wild desire to go and
+narrate to Wynifred in person the tragic details of the past forty-eight
+hours. She would appreciate it so.... How her mind would seize on every
+point, how she would listen to him with that expression of eager
+interest which he could always awaken on any other subject but that of
+himself.</p>
+
+<p>This brought his mind to the memory of their conversation about Elaine
+that afternoon in the boat. He remembered her guarded answers and the
+unfair way in which he had pressed her to give opinions which she had
+seemed sorry to have to hold.</p>
+
+<p>"She was wrong about Miss Brabourne," he reflected. "We have all been
+wrong about her, all misjudged her&mdash;even Fowler, who ought to know her
+so well."</p>
+
+<p>At the date of the above-mentioned conversation, his distrust of Elsa
+had certainly equalled if not gone beyond Wynifred's; now, the revulsion
+of feeling was complete.</p>
+
+<p>Nothing in this world so enlists the sympathies of mankind as the victim
+of an unjust suspicion. Elsa had been under the shadow of the darkest of
+accusations. She was now declared to be innocent as the day. Claud's
+heart turned to her, as the heart of anyone calling himself a man must
+infallibly do. He felt as though his strictly neutral position had been
+the direst of insults&mdash;as though he wanted to kneel at her feet and kiss
+the hem of her garment. Percivale had not been neutral&mdash;he had seen, had
+known the falseness of the monstrous charge; Claud thought he would like
+to be in his place now just for four-and-twenty hours. He must be the
+hero of the moment, as Elsa was the heroine.</p>
+
+<p>And what a heroine! The remembrance of the girl as she lay asleep,
+framed in her wealth of hair, flashed vividly upon him as they reached
+the hall door.</p>
+
+<p>"By Jove! She is beautiful!" he said, quite unconscious that he spoke
+aloud.</p>
+
+<p>Henry paused, with his latch-key in his hand and looked at him with an
+amused gleam in his eyes.</p>
+
+<p>"What!" said he, "you too!"</p>
+
+<p>Claud started, laughed, flushed deeply, and shook his head.</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, no&mdash;not that," he said. "Not that at all. Of course I am a
+worshipper at the shrine of injured innocence and persecuted
+beauty&mdash;every knight-errant must be that, you know; but no more. I
+wonder why?"</p>
+
+<p>"You wonder why what?"</p>
+
+<p>"I wonder why I am not madly in love with Miss Brabourne. I fully
+intended to be, at one time. Why shouldn't I be? I don't understand it."</p>
+
+<p>"I can tell you why, if you care to know," said Henry, smiling quietly
+to himself as he set open the door, and crossed his threshold.</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, it's of no consequence; thank you," said Claud, with suspicious
+hurry, and reddening slightly.</p>
+
+<p>"No? Well, perhaps you are wise," was the grave answer. "I find that
+young people mostly <i>are</i> very prudent in these days. It would be quite
+a relief occasionally to see a man carried away by the strength of his
+feelings."</p>
+
+<p>Claud looked earnestly at him.</p>
+
+<p>"Don't you think a man ought to have himself well in hand?" he asked.</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, I suppose so; but I am not such a believer in the universality of
+self-discipline in the young men of the day. They don't control their
+desires for high play, costly cigars, horses, wine, or enjoyment
+generally. It is only in the matter of marriage that I have noticed this
+singular discretion overtakes them. Don't you think one may safely
+attribute it to another motive than self-control? Caution is often
+merely a name for selfishness."</p>
+
+<p>"And you think this applies to me?" said Claud, slowly, hanging up his
+cap with deliberation. "I don't say you're wrong. But it's a nice point,
+which I should like to get settled for me&mdash;which is the least lovable
+course? To decline to obey the dictates of your heart from motives of
+prudence, or to follow the lead of your feelings, and so drag down to
+poverty the woman you profess to love, but in reality only desire to
+possess?"</p>
+
+<p>"My dear fellow," said Henry, affectionately, "you are taking this too
+seriously. It's a question one can't well discuss in the abstract,
+particularly now, when you look as haggard as a ghost and are ready to
+drop with fatigue. Come, you must really get some rest. It is seven
+o'clock, I declare, and you have been on your legs for four-and-twenty
+hours."</p>
+
+<p>Claud did certainly looked fagged now that the full light of high day
+fell on his pale face. He sat down on the lowest stair, yawned,
+stretched, and asked, sleepily,</p>
+
+<p>"What time is the inquest?"</p>
+
+<p>"Twelve o'clock. You go straight upstairs, I'll send you your breakfast
+in a quarter-of-an-hour, and then you are to lie down and get two or
+three hours' sleep. I'll have you called in time. Come, get up."</p>
+
+<p>Claud remained immovable.</p>
+
+<p>"I wonder who he is," he said at last.</p>
+
+<p>"Whom?"</p>
+
+<p>"Percivale. I should like to know."</p>
+
+<p>"You won't find out by sitting on the staircase, my boy. Come, do go."</p>
+
+<p>"All right&mdash;I'm going. Whoever he is, he's a trump, and that's something
+to know about a fellow."</p>
+
+<p>The "trump" in question had been swimming vigorously in the glittering,
+lively sea for a quarter-of-an-hour. He emerged from the water
+invigorated and glowing, with the drops in his red-gold hair.</p>
+
+<p>His crew had a hot breakfast ready for him, to which when dressed he did
+ample justice; and then giving orders to be waked, and for the boat to
+be in readiness at eleven, he stretched himself on a sofa which they had
+brought on deck, and prepared to sleep.</p>
+
+<p>This, however, was more easily said than done. He had never felt more
+wide awake in his life. Stretched on his back, his arms under his head,
+the light motion of the blue waters lulling him gently, he lay and
+thought over all that had happened. The sunshine poured down upon him,
+and everything was very still. Now and again there was the white flash
+of a passing bird, shaft-like through the air; now and then a low,
+guttural German laugh, as his crew sat together discussing this latest
+adventure of their roving master.</p>
+
+<p>Elaine's face was present to his fancy&mdash;so vividly that he had only to
+close his eyes to see every detail of it. The startled expression, the
+wistful gaze, the exquisite complexion, the golden shower that framed
+her.</p>
+
+<p>The words of a favorite poetess of his seemed saying themselves over in
+his brain:</p>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">"And, if any painter drew her,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">He would take her, unaware,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">With an aureole round the hair."<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+<p>His heart began to beat loudly at the thought of seeing her again so
+soon. How beautiful she was! What would she look like if she stood
+there&mdash;just there on the white deck of the <i>Swan</i>, with a background of
+flickering sea and melting air, and a face from which horror and appeal
+were gone, leaving only the fair graciousness of maidenhood? The thought
+was delicious. Raising himself on his elbow, he looked around. How
+pretty his yacht was! How glad he felt that this was so. Was it good
+enough to bear the pressure of her little foot? Dare he invite her to
+come on board, even if only for a moment, that he might always hereafter
+feel the joy of knowing that her presence had been there?</p>
+
+<p>And what when she had gone again&mdash;when the few moments were over, and
+she had departed, taking with her all light from the skies, and all
+heart from life?</p>
+
+<p>He tried to fancy what his feelings might be, when again the anchor was
+weighed, and he should see the coast receding behind the swift <i>Swan</i>.
+Could he bear it? That seemed the question. Was it possible that he
+should bid good-bye to this valley as he had bid good-bye to so many a
+fair spot before?</p>
+
+<p>He tossed himself impatiently over. He could not do it. No, no, and
+again no! Was he Vanderdecken, that he should fly from place to place
+and find no rest? Was this roving so very pleasant, after all?... what
+had been the charm of it?... And he was certainly very lonely. Doubtless
+it was a selfish life. He knew he had adopted it for reason good and
+sufficient&mdash;a reason which had not been of his own seeking. But now&mdash;&mdash;</p>
+
+<p>He sprang from his sofa and wandered to and fro on the deck. That
+restlessness was upon him which comes to all of us, when suddenly we
+discover that the life which we have hitherto found sufficient is
+henceforth impossible to us. Looking steadily into the future, facing it
+squarely, as his manner was, he recoiled for a moment. For he seemed to
+see, in a single flash, all his life culminating in one end&mdash;all the
+love of his heart fixed upon one object.</p>
+
+<p>How much he required of her? Suppose&mdash;suppose&mdash;&mdash;Oh, fate, fate, how
+many possibilities arose to vex his soul! Suppose she loved Allonby.
+Suppose she should never be able to care for him&mdash;Percivale. And then
+arose in his heart a mighty and determined will to carry this thing
+through, and make her love him. At that moment he felt a power surge
+within him which nothing could withstand. As he stood there on the deck,
+he was already a conqueror;&mdash;he had slain the monster&mdash;surely he could
+win the heart of the maiden, as all doughty champions were wont to do.</p>
+
+<p>The mist was broken away now, and the roof of Edge Willoughby&mdash;the roof
+which sheltered Elsa&mdash;was visible to his eyes. He sent an unspoken
+blessing across the water towards it.</p>
+
+<p>The restlessness began to subside.</p>
+
+<p>He threw himself again on the sofa, and this time the wooing air seemed
+to creep into his brain and make him drowsy. His thoughts lost their
+continuity and became scrappy, disjointed, hazy. At last fatigue
+asserted its empire finally. The lids closed over the steadfast eyes;
+and the young champion slept, with his cheek pillowed on his arm, and
+his strong limbs stretched out in a delicious lassitude.</p>
+
+<p>The sailors crept, one after the other, to look upon him as he slept.
+Old M�ller, who had held him in his arms as a baby, gazed down at him
+with fond triumph. There was little he could not do, this young master
+of theirs, they proudly thought, and, as M�ller noted the noble
+innocence of the sleeping face, it recalled to him vividly the deathbed
+of the young mother of eighteen, as she lay broken-hearted, sinking away
+out of life in far off Littsdoff, a remote village of north Germany. A
+tear slid down his weather-stained face, as he thought in his
+sentimental German way how proud that poor child would have been of her
+son could she have lived to know his future.</p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<h2>CHAPTER XXXIII.</h2>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i12">The air broke into a mist with bells,<br /></span>
+<span class="i12">The steeple rocked with the crowd, and cries;<br /></span>
+<span class="i12">Had I said "Good folks, mere noise repels,<br /></span>
+<span class="i12">But give me your sun from yonder skies,"<br /></span>
+<span class="i12">They had answered&mdash;"And afterwards what else?"<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i24"><i>The Patriot.</i><br /></span>
+</div></div>
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+
+<p>The inquest was held at the school-house.</p>
+
+<p>For two hours the excitement in the village had been something
+tremendous. A huge crowd had assembled outside the school to watch the
+proceedings, and had recognised the various arrivals with breathless
+awe. First of all Mr. and Mrs. Orton, in a hired fly from Stanton, the
+dark and menacing brows of the lady boding ill for all her adversaries.
+By special request of Mr. Fowler, who had been roused by her to the most
+furious pitch of which his gentle nature was capable, all tidings of Mr.
+Percivale's discoveries had been kept from them. They swept in, greeted
+by a faint hissing from the rural population, and Mrs. Orton broke
+afresh into loud grief at sight of the sheet which covered poor little
+Godfrey's body.</p>
+
+<p>Next arrived the coroner, driven by Mr. Fowler in his own dog-cart, and
+two other official-looking personages, who walked straight in, while Mr.
+Fowler nodded to some of those who stood near, with a steady
+cheerfulness so unlike his crushed depression of yesterday that a sudden
+wave of indefinable hope arose in the hearts of many.</p>
+
+<p>Next, followed by four members of his crew, the stranger Mr. Percivale
+walked quietly up the hill, and in at the wicket-gate. He was very pale
+and there were purple marks under his eyes telling of want of sleep; but
+the still confidence of his manner did not by any means quench the spark
+that Mr. Fowler's aspect had kindled. A faint cheer followed him as he
+vanished into the interior of the school-house; but in a moment he
+reappeared, and stood at the door gazing down the hill as if expecting
+some one.</p>
+
+<p>And now was seen a spectacle which literally stopped the breath of the
+momentarily increasing crowd&mdash;a sight so unexpected, so unaccountable,
+that one old woman shrilly screamed out, "Lord ha' mercy on us!" and a
+strange thrill passed over the assembly as a cart appeared, and stopped
+before the entrance. In the cart was not only the Edge Valley constable,
+but two from the Stanton constabulary, and in their charge was the widow
+Parker, in hysterics, and Saul, seated with a smile on his face, and his
+beautiful hair just lifted by the wind.</p>
+
+<p>The sensation was tremendous; and it was greatly increased when, as the
+sobbing, frantic widow staggered blindly up the path, Mr. Percivale was
+seen to touch her kindly on the arm, and to whisper a few words which
+had the effect of checking her loud distress and inducing her to compose
+herself somewhat.</p>
+
+<p>But it was not for her he had waited, for still he kept his place at the
+door; and presently the sound of wheels was again heard, and up the hill
+came the Misses Willoughby's wagonette. As it approached, some of the
+spectators noticed that Mr. Percivale uncovered his bright hair, and so
+stood until the carriage stopped, when he went forward, cap in hand, to
+greet the ladies.</p>
+
+<p>Miss Charlotte, Miss Emily, Miss Brabourne, and Mr. Cranmer were in the
+wagonette, and it was at once remarked, that, though sad, they did not
+seem to be in despair. All three ladies were in black, and the Misses
+Willoughby greeted Mr. Percivale with particular politeness and
+distinction.</p>
+
+<p>As for him, he only saw "one face from out the thousands." She was
+there, her hands touched his, she walked beside him up the shingly path.
+Her eyes rested on his with trust and gratitude untold. It was enough.
+For the moment he felt as if he had won his guerdon. They disappeared
+within the school-house, and the crowd outside began loudly to speculate
+on the turn that things were taking. Presently up the road hurried
+Clapp, the landlord of the "Fountain Head," his wife on his arm, both in
+their Sunday best, and both in such a state of excitement as rendered
+them almost crazy. The neighbors gathered round to hear the startling
+news that Mrs. Clapp had been subpoenaed as a witness in the case,
+though what they had to do with it they were at a loss to know, unless
+it were connected with the loyal William's illegal refusal to take Mr.
+and Mrs. Orton in as his guests on the previous day.</p>
+
+<p>"I don't care if they d� gi' me a foine," cried he, stoutly. "A can
+affoard to pay it, mates, a deal better 'n I can affoard to tak' vermin
+into ma hoose!"</p>
+
+<p>A murmur of applause greeted this spirited speech, and William was plied
+right and left with questions. But he knew no more than they did, only,
+in some mysterious way, an idea gained ground amongst them that the
+strange owner of the white yacht had wrought a miracle, or something
+very like it, for the preservation of Miss Elaine.</p>
+
+<p>"What shall we d�, mates, if a brings her aout safe an' saound?" cried
+William. "Take aout the horses and drag 'im home, say I."</p>
+
+<p>"Get a couple o' hurdles an' chair 'em," suggested another eager spirit;
+and then the constable came to the door, and imperatively called Mr. and
+Mrs. Clapp; when they had vanished, the door was shut, and a breathless
+hush fell upon the crowd.</p>
+
+<p>Oh, the sunny silence in the old house with the terrace! Oh, the slow,
+slow motion of the hands of the clock as they crept round. Miss Ellen's
+couch lay out in the sunshine, her wan hands were clasped, her eyes
+fixed on the white road which descended from the school-house.</p>
+
+<p>The school was on the other side of the valley. The building itself was
+hidden by a thick clump of trees, but below, a long stretch of road was
+clearly visible, leading down past the lower extremity of the Edge
+Willoughby grounds. Here stood the smithy, and, just opposite that, the
+road widened out into a triangular space, used as a village lounge of an
+evening when the weather was fine. Every summer there was a school
+feast, and all the children were marched down this road on their way to
+Mr. Fowler's meadows where the feast was held; and it had been a custom,
+ever since Elaine was a little child, for the whole procession to halt
+when it came opposite the smithy, with waving banners and flying flags,
+and, facing the terrace, to sing a hymn for the edification of the pale
+invalid as she lay on her couch.</p>
+
+<p>To-day, thoughts of Elsa's childhood came thronging to Miss Ellen's
+mind. She saw her once more as she used to stand in her class, in her
+clean white frock and blue ribbons, with her hair waving all about her.</p>
+
+<p>Now, as Miss Ellen saw clearly, the past was utterly and completely the
+past&mdash;gone and done away with for ever. In future it would not be in any
+way possible to continue the life which had flowed on so evenly for
+nearly fifteen years. Already the sisters talked of change, of travel.
+Elsa must be taken away from the place where she had suffered so much.
+Change of scene must be resorted to; everything that could be done must
+be done to make her forget the horror of the last few days, and restore
+to her nervous system its usually placid tone.</p>
+
+<p>Little Miss Fanny, who had stayed at home to keep her sister company,
+was trotting nervously in and out of the open door, now snipping a few
+withered geraniums, now mixing the chough's food, and moving the
+cockatoo's cage further into the shade. Jackie himself careered up and
+down in the sunshine like a contented sort of Mephistopheles. He had
+been down to the duck-pond, and chased away all the ducks, which was one
+cause of deep satisfaction to him; over and above which, the cockatoo
+was caged and he was free, so that he was able to march up and down
+under the very nose of the captive bird, deriding him both by word and
+gesture.</p>
+
+<p>"My dear," said Miss Fanny, sitting down with a patient sigh, "how long
+it seems!"</p>
+
+<p>"Long? Yes!... Oh, Fanny, if anything should have gone wrong, if any
+unforeseen piece of evidence&mdash;&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>"My dear," said Miss Fanny again, in a confident manner, "any unforeseen
+bit of evidence will be a help to our case."</p>
+
+<p>"You really think so?"</p>
+
+<p>"Think so? Why, the matter admits of no doubt at all. It is plain&mdash;even
+the poor mother can't deny it; the boy himself admits it. He told Mr.
+Percivale where to look for the cudgel with which the blow was struck."</p>
+
+<p>"I should like to see Mrs. Orton's face. I wonder how she will take it,"
+murmured Miss Ellen.</p>
+
+<p>The clock struck.</p>
+
+<p>"How late it is!" she sighed.</p>
+
+<p>"Hark! What is that?" cried Miss Fanny. "What a strange sound! Don't you
+hear it?"</p>
+
+<p>"I hear something," answered the invalid, growing white, and grasping
+the sides of her couch with straining fingers.</p>
+
+<p>It was a hoarse deep roar, which for a moment they took to be the wind
+or the sea, till, as it was repeated, and again yet louder, they knew it
+for a sound which neither of them had ever heard before&mdash;the shouting of
+an excited multitude. There is perhaps nothing else in the world which
+so stirs the pulses, or sends the blood so wildly coursing in the veins.
+Neither sister spoke a word. They held their breath, strained their
+eyes, and waited, while the roar swept nearer, and swelled in volume,
+and at last resolved itself into a tremendous "Hip&mdash;hip&mdash;hip&mdash;hurrah!"</p>
+
+<p>Then, on the white stretch of road down the opposite hill, appeared a
+flying company of boys, madly waving caps in the air. These were but the
+forerunners of the great concourse behind. Edge Combe, albeit so
+apparently small, boasted a population of a thousand souls, and quite
+half of them were present that morning, besides a goodly sprinkling from
+Brent, Philmouth, and Stanton. On they came, moving forward like a huge,
+irregular wave, every hat waving, every throat yelling; and then there
+flashed into sight a dozen or so of stout fellows, who bore on their
+shoulders a young man, lifted high above the heads of the throng, a
+young man whose head was bare, and whose conspicuously fair head caught
+the light of every sunbeam.</p>
+
+<p>"Fanny! Fanny!" gasped Miss Ellen, in the midst of hysterical tears and
+laughter, "it is Mr. Percivale, they are chairing him. Who could have
+believed such a thing, in our quiet village! And, Fanny&mdash;see&mdash;there is
+the carriage&mdash;our carriage! There is Elsa&mdash;God bless the child! God
+bless her, poor darling!... They have taken out the horses; they are
+dragging them home in triumph. Look! the carriage is full of flowers;
+the women and girls are throwing them&mdash;they all know what she has
+suffered, they all sympathise, they all rejoice with us ... and that
+wonderful young man has done it all. How shall we ever repay him?"</p>
+
+<p>And now the crowd had come to the space opposite the smithy, and here
+their leader, none other than the redoubtable William Clapp, waved his
+arms frantically for a halt. The masses of hurrying people behind
+stopped suddenly; there was an expectant murmur, a pause of wonder as
+to what was now to happen. The whole thing was intensely dramatic; the
+slope of the steep hillside lined with eager faces, the carriage in the
+midst smothered in flowers, and in the foreground the figure of
+Percivale, held up in the arms of the village enthusiasts against a
+background of deep blue sky.</p>
+
+<p>"Three cheers for Miss Willoughby!" yelled William, so loudly that his
+voice carried back to the hindmost limits of the throng, and up to where
+Miss Willoughby was seated. The cheer that arose in answer was
+deafening, and Miss Ellen was so overcome that it was with difficulty
+she could respond by waving her handkerchief.</p>
+
+<p>Scarcely had the sounds died away, when out burst the bells in the
+church tower, the ringers having raced off to set them going as soon as
+ever the result was known. As if with one voice the crowd broke forth
+into "See the conquering hero comes;" and so, with stamping feet and
+shouting lungs, they wound their way up the hill in the sunshine towards
+the drive gates of Edge Willoughby.</p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<h2>CHAPTER XXXIV.</h2>
+
+<blockquote><p>Where people wish to attract, they should always be ignorant ... a
+woman, especially, if she have the misfortune of knowing anything,
+should conceal it as well as she can.</p>
+
+<p><i>Northanger Abbey.</i></p></blockquote>
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+
+<p>It was snowing&mdash;or rather, sleeting, in the half-hearted, fitful way to
+which Londoners are accustomed. Out of doors, the lamps flared on wet
+glistening pavements, with here and there a mass of rapidly thawing,
+congealed ice, which made walking unpleasant. It was pitch-dark, though
+not yet five o'clock, and the atmosphere was full of a raw cold, more
+penetrating than frost.</p>
+
+<p>In the suburb of Woodstead, the streets were swimming in slush, through
+which rolled the omnibuses, packed full inside, and thatched with
+soaking umbrellas under which cowered unlucky passengers who felt that
+they were taking cold every moment. Crowsley Road, the main
+thoroughfare, contained fine, solid houses, standing well back from the
+street&mdash;detached, for the most part, and having their own gardens.
+Mansfield Road was a turning out of Crowsley Road, and here the houses
+were small, semidetached, and unpretentious, though these, too, as is
+the fashion in Woodstead, had a strip of garden in front.</p>
+
+<p>In number seven, the blinds had not been drawn, nor the lamps lit,
+though it was so dark, and the outside prospect so uninviting. The fire
+was the only light in the little dining-room, and on the hearth-rug
+before it sat a girl, her arms round her knees, her eyes fixed on the
+glowing coals.</p>
+
+<p>The uncertain light of the flickering flames showed that the little room
+was furnished with several bits of handsome old oak, with a goodly
+supply of books, and with several oil-paintings, the quality of which
+could hardly be judged in the dark.</p>
+
+<p>On the floor by the fire lay a number of loose sheets of manuscript, a
+pen, and inkstand, so arranged that anyone suddenly entering the room
+must of necessity knock them down. Wynifred Allonby, however&mdash;for she it
+was who sat alone&mdash;took no heed of her surroundings. She was miles away,
+in a dream-world of her own.</p>
+
+<p>The expression of her face had changed since last summer. The
+independent, courageous, free look was gone. In its stead was a
+wistfulness, a certain restlessness, which, though it saddened, yet
+certainly infused a fresh interest. Apparently a struggle was going on
+in her mind, for her brows were drawn together, and at last, as she
+stared into the embers, she broke into a little laugh and spoke aloud.</p>
+
+<p>"My dear girl, if I could only persuade you what an idiot you are," said
+she. "Will nothing&mdash;absolutely nothing make you ashamed of yourself?
+Faugh! I am sick of you&mdash;you that were always so high and mighty, you
+that hated and abhorred love-sick maidens, nicely you are, served out,
+now ... a man that chance just flung into your society for a few weeks,
+a man above you in social standing&mdash;whose family would think it as great
+a comedown for him to marry you, as you would think it to marry the
+butcher!... I have no patience with you, really. Haven't you read your
+Clough? Don't you remember the <i>Amours de Voyage</i>? Yes, that was a
+Claud, too; and I think he must have been something like mine&mdash;like this
+one, I mean. 'Juxtaposition,' my good young woman, 'is much.' And what
+was it but juxtaposition? Oh, didn't I know it all the time&mdash;know that
+it couldn't last, that he was just masquerading for the time in a
+country romance, that he must needs go back to his world of Piccadilly
+and peeresses.... And yet, I had not the sense to&mdash;&mdash;Oh, it is so hard,
+so very hard! That I should want him so, and have to confess it to
+myself, the hateful truth that I do want him and can't forget&mdash;while he
+has no need of me at all!..."</p>
+
+<p>Her face, no longer pale for the moment, dropped upon her hands, and she
+gave a little sound, between a laugh and a sob.</p>
+
+<p>"It is so many weeks ago, now&mdash;years, it seems. I thought I should have
+been quite cured by the time winter set in. What in the world drew me so
+to that one man, when I never felt so much as a passing fancy for other
+people&mdash;for poor Mr. Merritt, for instance. Why couldn't I marry him? He
+was rich, and I liked him too; so did Osmond and the girls; but somehow
+it wouldn't do. And yet, now.... I can bear it, mostly, only sometimes,
+in blindman's holiday, it comes over me. It is galling, it is
+frightfully humiliating. It ought to make me arise and thrash myself for
+being so unwomanly. I know for a fact that he doesn't want to see me in
+the least; for, if he had, he would have come ... and yet&mdash;yet&mdash;if he
+were to open that door, and stand there this moment, I should be, for
+the time, absolutely and entirely happy. Oh, what a fall, what a fall
+for me. I was so certain and so safe. And now, is this pain to go on
+always? Am I never to be able to fling my heart into my books as I used?
+Oh, surely, if I am firm enough, I <i>must</i> be able to stop it. I will! I
+am determined I will!"</p>
+
+<p>A footfall, running up the front door steps, made her pause, and
+foolishly hold her breath; then she laughed contemptuously as a
+latch-key was thrust into the lock. There was a stamping and rubbing of
+boots on the mat in the hall, sounds of a mackintosh being removed, an
+umbrella thrust into the stand, and then Jacqueline walked in, her eyes
+like stars, her cheeks glowing with the stinging cold outside.</p>
+
+<p>"Are you there, Wyn?" she asked, peering into the twilight.</p>
+
+<p>"Yes. Mind the ink," said the authoress, heaving a sigh.</p>
+
+<p>"Why in the world don't you draw the curtains and light the lamp?" asked
+Jacqueline, coming forward, and unfastening the dark fur round her
+throat. "Why is there no tea ready? Where's Osmond? Isn't Hilda in yet?
+What have you been about, eh?"</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, I don't know," said Wyn, stretching, and picking herself and her
+writing materials up from the floor. "I was writing hard all the
+morning, and this afternoon was so horrid, I thought I wouldn't go out;
+so I have been moping rather. Osmond's out. Hilda won't be in for
+half-an-hour&mdash;it's not five yet."</p>
+
+<p>As she spoke, she drew the curtains, lit the lamp, and rang the bell for
+tea; then, drawing a low chair to the fire, sat down and looked at
+Jacqueline.</p>
+
+<p>That young lady had removed her out-door apparel, and was kneeling on
+the hearthrug, holding her hands to the blaze. The severe weather had
+brought a magnificent glow to her face, and she looked excessively
+pretty and elegant. Wyn watched her with elder-sisterly pride. There was
+something evidently well-bred about Jac; something in the brilliant
+eyes, the tempting smile, the tall slender figure which gave her a style
+of her own. It was not exactly dashing, but it was something peculiar to
+herself, which made her noticed wherever she went, the undeniable beauty
+of the academy schools, and the pride of her devoted family.</p>
+
+<p>Something had pleased her to-day. Wyn easily divined this, from the
+gleam in the big, laughing, hazel eyes, and the pleasant curves of the
+pretty mouth. But the eldest sister was too diplomatic to ask any
+questions. She knew that, when the slim hands were warmed, confidence
+would begin to flow, so she only sat still, and remarked casually.</p>
+
+<p>"Bad light down at the schools to-day, I should think."</p>
+
+<p>"Awful," was the candid reply. "I expect I shall have to paint out
+everything I have put in&mdash;such a pity! It looked most weird and
+Rembrandtesque in the rich pea-soupy atmosphere, but alas! to-morrow
+will reveal it in its true colors, dirty and opaque. Here comes tea. How
+nice! Bring it here, Sally, there's a dear."</p>
+
+<p>Sally obeyed. She was a middle-aged, kind, capable woman, who had been
+their nurse in old days, and their factotum ever since they were
+orphans.</p>
+
+<p>"Miss Jac," said she, in righteous wrath, "take off them wet boots this
+minute, you naughty girl. Nice colds you'd all 'ave, if I wasn't to look
+after you. There was Mr. Osmond painting away this morning with 'is
+skylight wide open, and the snow falling on 'is 'ed. Wants to kill
+himself, <i>I</i> think."</p>
+
+<p>"Sally," said Jac, as she sat down on the floor, and rapidly unlaced the
+offending boots, "I've something very particular to say. What is there
+for dinner? Is there anything in the house?"</p>
+
+<p>"There's plenty of cold beef, and, as I know Miss 'Ilda don't fancy cold
+meat, I got some sausages."</p>
+
+<p>"Any pudding?"</p>
+
+<p>"Yes, miss."</p>
+
+<p>"Sausages and mashed potatoes are perhaps vulgar, but they're very
+nice," said Jacqueline, meditatively. "You might make some anchovy
+toast, Sal&mdash;and&mdash;couldn't we have some spinach?"</p>
+
+<p>"Who is coming?" asked Wyn, with interest.</p>
+
+<p>"Mr. Haldane. He is coming to finish that charcoal sketch of me so I
+told him he had better come to dinner," replied Jac, with airy
+nonchalance.</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, bless your 'eart, I've got plenty for 'im; he don't know what 'e's
+putting into his mouth most of the time," said Sally, picking up the wet
+boots, and retiring.</p>
+
+<p>"Only I do like to have things nice when he comes, because of course he
+is used to having things done in the proper way," remarked Jacqueline,
+with a stifled sigh. She was the only one of the four who felt their
+poverty in this kind of way.</p>
+
+<p>"I never see Mr. Haldane eat anything but chocolate," said Wyn with a
+laugh. "Perhaps he doesn't like our food."</p>
+
+<p>"Sally is a really good cook, that's my one comfort," returned Jac. "And
+now I have two pieces of news for you. The first is that he, Mr.
+Haldane, has got the gold medal."</p>
+
+<p>"No!" cried Wyn, in tremendous excitement. "You don't say so! How
+splendid! How we will all congratulate him! Tell me all about it&mdash;how
+many votes ahead was he?"</p>
+
+<p>Jacqueline launched into a mass of details, most eagerly appreciated by
+her listener.</p>
+
+<p>"How we will cheer him at the Distribution to-morrow!" she cried. "I
+always felt sure he would do it."</p>
+
+<p>"I don't think there was ever much doubt about it," was the answer, in a
+voice which Jac in vain strove to render perfectly tranquil. "He is very
+clever, isn't he?"</p>
+
+<p>"Clever and nice too," said Wynifred. "One of the very nicest men we
+know. And, now, what's the other piece of news?"</p>
+
+<p>"Oh&mdash;only that the Ortons are back in town. As I passed Sefton Lodge in
+the omnibus, it was all lighted up."</p>
+
+<p>"Oh&mdash;I wonder if there is any chance for poor old Osmond to get his
+money now?"</p>
+
+<p>"Don't know, I am sure; I would try, if I were he. Did you have a letter
+from Mr. Fowler this morning?"</p>
+
+<p>"Yes," answered Wyn, pulling it out of her pocket. "Very nice, as usual.
+Elsa is still abroad, with her aunts, but he is back at Lower House. It
+is very strange that Elsa doesn't write&mdash;I haven't heard from her for
+six weeks."</p>
+
+<p>"It is making poor old Osmond very anxious&mdash;he looks quite haggard,"
+said Jacqueline, resentfully. "I believe she is in love with this man
+the yacht belongs to."</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, don't say such a thing, Jac!" cried Wyn, in a quick voice of pain,
+"it will simply drive Osmond out of his mind if any such thing happens.
+Poor boy! Just see what he has been doing&mdash;how superbly he has been
+painting since he had this hope, and how his things are selling! How the
+papers reviewed his 'Valley of Avilion' in the Institute. Why, Mr. Mills
+said there was scarcely a doubt of his being R.I. next year. If Elsa
+fails him, I don't believe he will ever paint another stroke."</p>
+
+<p>Jacqueline stared at the fire.</p>
+
+<p>"You see," she said, "the circumstances under which she met this man
+were so very romantic&mdash;so remarkably unusual. And, then, he seems to be
+a wealthy, dazzling sort of person&mdash;with a yacht and a German <i>Schloss</i>,
+and other fancy fixings of the same kind. I don't see, if you come to
+consider it fairly, how poor Osmond can have a chance against a man who
+can follow her to the world's end."</p>
+
+<p>"Surely she's too young to be mercenary&mdash;girls of her age usually prefer
+the poor one!" cried Wyn, protestingly.</p>
+
+<p>"Mercenary? Oh, it's not exactly mercenary; but she is dazzled. Here is
+a mysterious hero, who flashes suddenly upon her with a large staff of
+retainers to do his behests, and a magic yacht which glides in and out
+regardless of wind and tide, and a face like a Viking of the Middle
+Ages, if that picture of him in the <i>Graphic</i> is to be relied upon. He
+is a sort of Ragnar Lodbrog. If she declined his addresses, he would
+most probably set sail alone in his yacht, set fire to it, and be found
+by some Channel steamer in the act of burning himself to death, and
+shouting a battle-cry while the leaping flames encircled him. Now, poor
+Osmond can't compete with this sort of thing; he has no accessories of
+any kind to help him along."</p>
+
+<p>"Jac, you are very ridiculous," said Wyn, unable to help laughing a
+little; but her laugh was not very hearty.</p>
+
+<p>"We shall soon see when she comes to London," said Jacqueline,
+flourishing the poker.</p>
+
+<p>"If she comes to see us! I don't see why she should. Lady Mabel
+Wynch-Fr�re and her brother have dropped us completely," said Wyn, with
+some bitterness. "The Valley of Avilion was one thing, London is
+another."</p>
+
+<p>"I'm sure we don't want them," said Jacqueline, indifferently. "From
+your account, Lady Mabel was not the kind of person I should take to at
+all."</p>
+
+<p>"She was excessively artificial, but not altogether uninteresting,"
+observed Wyn, in her trenchant way. "They were both very kind to Osmond,
+but that was their humanity, you know&mdash;they would have done the same for
+any village yokel. Like Lady Geraldine,</p>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">'"She is too kind to be cruel, and too haughty not to pardon,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Such a man as I&mdash;'twere something to be level to her hate!"'<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+<p>Jacqueline began to laugh.</p>
+
+<p>"She is like Aunt Anna," she said.</p>
+
+<p>Aunt Anna was the wife of a dean, and she never dared to invite any of
+her London-weary nieces to stay with her, lest they should unwittingly
+reveal to any of her titled friends the ghastly fact that they had to
+work for their living. Of this secret the said nieces were perfectly
+aware, and derived much amusement therefrom.</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, I daresay she has never thought of us from that day to this," said
+Wyn, carelessly. "There's Hilda knocking. Let her in."</p>
+
+<p>Hilda walked in like a duchess. Nature certainly had not intended the
+Miss Allonbys for daily governesses, and many a time had poor Hilda been
+doomed to hear the condemning words, "I am afraid, Miss Allonby, you are
+of too striking an appearance," from some anxious mother, who felt that
+life would be a burden when weighted with a governess so dignified that
+to suggest that she should take Kitty to the dentist's, or Jack to have
+his boots tried on, would seem a flagrant insult.</p>
+
+<p>"If they only knew how meek and mild I am really!" the poor child would
+remark, dolorously. "If I could but make myself three inches shorter, or
+pad myself out round the waist till I was no shape at all! But it would
+be so dreadfully hot. And I really <i>can't</i> wear unbecoming
+hats&mdash;something in me revolts against the idea!"</p>
+
+<p>To-night she had a letter in hand, which she dropped into Wyn's lap.</p>
+
+<p>"I met the postman," she said, explanatorily. "Open it, do&mdash;it feels
+stiff, I believe it's an invitation."</p>
+
+<p>Wyn opened it, drew out a square card with gilt edges, and read.</p>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">Miss Allonby, Miss H. Allonby, Miss J. Allonby,</span><br /></span>
+<span class="i4"><span class="smcap">Mr. Allonby.</span><br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i6">Mrs. MILES AT HOME.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Tuesday, Jan. 5th.<br /></span>
+<span class="i18">Dancing 8.30,<br /></span>
+<span class="i18"><i>R. S. V. P.</i><br /></span>
+<span class="i2"><span class="smcap">Innisfalle, The Avenue.</span><br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+<p>"A ball at the Miles'! Oh, Wyn, how splendid!" cried Jacqueline in
+ecstasies.</p>
+
+<p>"Every creature we know will be there," said Hilda.</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, Hilda, how glad I am we had those dresses made," said Jacqueline,
+jumping up and careering round the table in the excess of her spirits.</p>
+
+<p>"How nice of them to ask us all three by name," said Hilda, gloating
+over the card. "They know we never go out more than two at a time unless
+specially invited."</p>
+
+<p>"It's a good long invitation," said Wyn.</p>
+
+<p>"Wyn!" cried Jac, suddenly stopping before her and shaking her fist in
+her face, "Wynifred Allonby, what have you got to wear?"</p>
+
+<p>"Nothing," said Wyn, helplessly. "I don't think I shall go&mdash;you two are
+the ones that do us credit. You can go in your pretty new gowns."</p>
+
+<p>"I hope you understand," said Hilda, with decision, "that not one of us
+sets foot in that glorious studio, with a parquet floor, and most
+probably Willoughby's band, unless you are forthcoming <i>in an entirely
+new rig-out</i>! Do you hear me? If I have to drag you to Oxford Street
+myself, you must and shall be decent! You have disgraced your family
+long enough in that old black rag, or in something made of tenpenny
+muslin! A new dress you shall have&mdash;silk it must be&mdash;thick, good silk,
+thick enough to stand by itself! Now, do, there's a darling!"</p>
+
+<p>"I don't think&mdash;&mdash;" began Wyn.</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, yes, I know what you are doing," said Hilda, calmly, "paying for
+the housekeeping out of your own money, so that Osmond may save up; but
+I am going to put a stop to that; and you have heaps of money in the
+savings bank. Don't be miserly, it is so hateful."</p>
+
+<p>Wyn looked somewhat confused by these terrible charges.</p>
+
+<p>"Well," admitted she, hesitatingly, "I don't mind telling you two, that
+I had a cheque this morning from Carter" (her publisher). "It was not a
+very big one&mdash;only the royalty on about fifty copies of 'Cicely
+Montfort.' But I could buy a really good gown with it. Do you think I
+might?"</p>
+
+<p>"Might? I say you ought; it's your duty," cried Jac, vehemently.
+"Everyone at Innisfallen will know you&mdash;every soul knows you are an
+authoress. You ought to do us credit&mdash;you shall. I'll have no nonsense
+about it."</p>
+
+<p>"I don't see why I shouldn't," burst out Wyn, suddenly. "I will be
+welldressed for once in my life. I will enjoy myself as much as ever I
+can. Girls, my mind is made up. I will have a really good gown, as good
+as can be got; and it shall fit me well, and the skirt shall hang
+properly. For this once I'll have my fling; I'll go to Innisfallen and
+eclipse you both."</p>
+
+<p>Here Sally walked in to fetch out the tea-things, and swooped on Hilda's
+boots as she had done on Jacqueline's. After which, retiring to cook
+the sausages, she set open the door at the head of the kitchen stairs,
+that she might hear Osmond's latch-key, and, descending on him like the
+wolf on the fold, rob him of his understandings if ever he came to the
+shelter of his studio.</p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<h2>CHAPTER XXXV.</h2>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i12">Juxtaposition, in fine; and what is juxtaposition?<br /></span>
+<span class="i12">Look you, we travel along, in the railway-carriage or steamer,<br /></span>
+<span class="i12">And <i>pour passer le temps</i>, till the tedious journey be ended,<br /></span>
+<span class="i12">Lay aside paper or book to talk with the girl that is next one;<br /></span>
+<span class="i12">And, <i>pour passer le temps</i>, with the terminus all but in prospect,<br /></span>
+<span class="i12">Talk of eternal ties and marriages made in heaven.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i24"><i>Amours de Voyage.</i><br /></span>
+</div></div>
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+
+<p>"Sally, Sally, what are you doing? For pity's sake come here and lace
+me! I shall never be ready. What a time you are with Wyn!"</p>
+
+<p>Jacqueline, in all the daintiness of white embroidered petticoat,
+satin-smooth shoulders, and deftly-arranged hair with a spray of lilies
+of the valley somewhere among its coils, hung over the balustrade in an
+agony of impatience.</p>
+
+<p>"Wyn, Wyn, what are you keeping Sal for? She has been twenty minutes
+over your bodice."</p>
+
+<p>A voice of agony from below responded.</p>
+
+<p>"Tag has come off my lace."</p>
+
+<p>"Oh!" A pause of consternation; then, encouragingly, "try a hair-pin."</p>
+
+<p>"It's all right now. I have actually found my bodkin. I shan't be five
+minutes."</p>
+
+<p>"Five minutes! My dear child, <i>Osmond has actually gone for the cab</i>!"
+cried Jac, in tones tragic enough to suit the most lamentable occasion.</p>
+
+<p>"Jac, come here, and don't make such a fuss," said the calm voice of
+Hilda, as she emerged from her room, ready down to the minutest detail,
+fan, gloves, and wrap over her arm.</p>
+
+<p>With a scream of joy at such unlooked-for relief, Jac darted into her
+room again, and her slender form was soon encased by her sister's deft
+fingers in its neatly-fitting fresh and captivating bodice.</p>
+
+<p>"What a wonder <i>your</i> tags are not both off! They generally are," was
+Hilda's withering comment, as she performed her task.</p>
+
+<p>"Yes, it is a wonder, isn't it?" returned Jacqueline, complacently. "Oh,
+there you are, Sal. I'm ready now, so you can go back to your beloved
+Wyn."</p>
+
+<p>"You can't think 'ow nice Miss Wyn looks to-night," observed Sally, as
+she busied herself in collecting some of the scattered articles of
+wearing apparel which strewed the floor of Jacqueline's small chamber.</p>
+
+<p>"I am so glad. I thought that dress would become her," said Hilda, in a
+pleased voice. "Oh, Jac, stand still, my beloved, one moment: there is
+Osmond back again."</p>
+
+<p>"Very good; I am ready. Sally, where are my gloves? And my bracelet, and
+my fan, and my small brooch, and&mdash;oh, dear! Run and tell Wyn she must
+lend me a lace handkerchief and some elastic for my shoes. Do hurry,
+Sally, please, I quite forgot the elastic. Why didn't you remind me,
+Hilda? Oh, did you get it for me? You darling, what a blessing you are!
+There have I got everything? Oh, Sally, do I look as nice as Hilda?"</p>
+
+<p>"You ain't so neat," observed Sally, with grim humor; "but neither of
+you looks bad, though I don't want to make you conceited."</p>
+
+<p>"Are you girls coming?" shouted Osmond.</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, yes; wait just a second, my dear boy. <i>Is</i> my front hair right,
+Hilda? Yours does go so beautifully to-night. You don't look like a
+governess, somehow." She threw a daring, tempting glance and laugh over
+her shoulder at the brilliant reflection in the mirror. "I wonder if I
+do," she said.</p>
+
+<p>At the foot of the stairs stood Wyn, in her new white silk, with a
+little crescent of diamonds, which had belonged to their mother, in her
+hair.</p>
+
+<p>"My dear girls, I am at peace," she remarked, gravely. "I stand at last
+inside a gown which <i>hangs</i> to perfection!"</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, isn't it nice?" said Jac, with a deep sigh of longing. "Really,
+Wyn, you do look well; you pay for dressing. Why don't you give more
+attention to your clothes?"</p>
+
+<p>"There's Osmond fidgetting downstairs, run!" cried Hilda, and the three
+flew off, pursued by Sally's warning cries.</p>
+
+<p>"Miss Jac, Miss Jac, don't let that fresh skirt sweep the stair carpets!
+Miss 'Ilda, cover your 'ead over, you've got a cold, you know you 'ave!
+Miss Wyn, see that Mr. Osmond crosses his comforter over his chest,
+there's a dear!"</p>
+
+<p>"Innisfallen. The Avenue," said Osmond to the cabman; and the four were
+really off at last.</p>
+
+<p>"For how many dances are you engaged, Jac?" asked the brother,
+teazingly.</p>
+
+<p>"Little boys," was the frigid rejoinder, "should ask no questions, and
+then they would hear no stories;" after which, silence reigned in the
+fourwheeler.</p>
+
+<p>Every Londoner knows, or has heard of, the celebrated house of Mr.
+Miles, R.A. It is one of the show-houses of London, and views of its
+interior appear from time to time in the art magazines, with an
+accompanying article full of praise for and wonder at the wealth and
+taste which devised such an abode. With our nineteenth-century habit of
+writing biographies in the life-time of their subject, of forming
+societies to interpret the work of living poets, and publishing
+pamphlets to explain the method of living painters, why not also extol
+the upholstery of living academicians? It is surely more satisfactory
+that people should admire your taste and wonder at your income in your
+lifetime than after you have gone the way of all flesh. Nowadays one is
+nothing if not in print. What! Furnish at untold cost; have your carpets
+imported from the East, and your wall papers specially designed, merely
+that these facts should go about as a tradition, a varying statement
+bandied from mouth to mouth and credited at will?</p>
+
+<p>The age is sceptical; it will not believe what it hears, it will not
+even believe documents of more than a certain age&mdash;the Gospels, for
+instance. But it will believe anything which it sees printed in a
+society journal, or a fashionable magazine. If your name be blazoned
+there, it is equivalent to having it graven with an iron pen, and lead
+in rock forever; on which account Mr. Miles did not object in the least
+to the appearance of delicately-executed engravings representing "Hall,
+and portion of staircase at Innisfallen, residence of H. Miles, Esq.,
+R.A." "Interior of studio, looking west." "Drawing-room, and
+music-gallery, showing the great organ, &amp;c., &amp;c." He was wise in his
+generation, and thoroughly enjoyed the caressing and honors which
+accrued to him from this form of advertisement. Moreover, he was a
+kindly man, and much given to hospitality. Nothing pleased him better
+than to throw open his magnificent rooms to large assemblies of very
+various people on an occasion like the present.</p>
+
+<p>An interesting theme for observation was presented by the extraordinary
+variety of toilettes worn by the guests of both sexes.</p>
+
+<p>First there was the artistic section of the community, drawn from all
+classes of society. By an odd paradox, these were they whose costumes
+were the most aggressively inartistic of any. Dirt and slovenliness are
+neither of them picturesque, yet it would seem that this singular clique
+held that to cultivate both was the first duty of man. They seemed to be
+one and all anxious to impress upon the observer the fact that they had
+taken no trouble at all to prepare for this party. A few had washed
+their faces. None had gone to the length of arranging their hair.
+Another feature which all possessed in common was their inability to
+dance, though some of them tried. Perhaps their large boots and
+ill-fitting garments incapacitated them for the display of grace in
+motion. They leaped, shuffled and floundered, but they did not waltz.
+These were, of course, only the younger section. Nearly everyone of them
+had distinguished him or herself in their own particular line; which
+fact seems to argue that to give especial attention to one sort of
+observation is to destroy the faculty for observing anything else: a
+saddening theory, and one which makes one tremble for the value of
+Professor Huxley's judgment on all matters outside his own province. Be
+that as it may, the fact remains that this concourse of young people,
+who could all admire beauty, grace, and refinement in the canvasses of
+the old masters, yet were themselves so many living violations of every
+law of beauty, and kept their refinement strictly for internal use.</p>
+
+<p>The moneyed clique was also much <i>en �vidence</i>. These were blazing with
+diamonds as to the women, commonplace and vacant as to the men. The
+latter seemed, in fact, to still further illustrate the theory of the
+evil of giving too close an attention to one thing. They were only
+faintly interested in what was going forward; they had no conversation
+unless they met a kindred spirit, who was willing to discuss the state
+of affairs east of Temple Bar. Their wives were for the most part
+handsome, and were all over-dressed, but this extreme was not so painful
+as that of the artists, because these clothes were as a rule well-made
+and composed of beautiful materials.</p>
+
+<p>Then there was a large sprinkling of professional people&mdash;barristers,
+journalists, critics, <i>savants</i>, lady-doctors, strong-minded females,
+singers, reciters, actors. Also there were the great gems of the art
+world: academicians, who, having made their name, had promptly turned
+Philistine, with their wives and families, dressed like the rest of the
+world, built big houses, went into society, and painted pot-boilers;
+and, lastly, there was a fair sprinkling of the aristocracy: well-born
+people, not so handsome as the millionaires' wives, but with that subtle
+air of breeding which diamonds cannot give. All these were simply
+dressed, and unobtrusive in manner; and a stranger watching the Allonbys
+enter the room would have fearlessly classed them with these latter.</p>
+
+<p>They all four looked what the Germans call "born." A certain way of
+carrying their heads distinguished them, and as they followed the
+announcement of their names, and shook hands with their hostess, more
+than one eager voice assailed the young men of the house with clamors
+for an introduction.</p>
+
+<p>Mr. and Mrs. Miles were fond of the four orphans. They had known them
+for years, and watched with kindly interest the development of their
+fortunes. Wynifred's success had made her quite a small celebrity in the
+neighborhood, and she owed many introductions to the benevolent zeal of
+the academician's plain, homely wife.</p>
+
+<p>"My dear," said Mrs. Miles, in a whisper, "I don't know when I've seen
+you look so nice."</p>
+
+<p>This was a charming beginning. It raised Wynifred's spirits, which were
+already high. She had come that evening determined to enjoy herself. She
+intended to cast every remembrance of last summer to the winds. Claud
+Cranmer was to be forgotten&mdash;the one weakness in her life. She would
+wrench back her liberty by main force, and be free once more&mdash;free as on
+the hot June day when she had journeyed down to Devonshire, and found
+the slight trim figure waiting for her on the platform.</p>
+
+<p>She knew plenty of people here to-night&mdash;people who were only too ready
+and anxious for her notice. When Wynifred had been working at the
+Woodstead Art School, before her novels began to pay, it had been said
+of her that she might have had the whole studio at her feet had she so
+chosen. She was an influence&mdash;a power. She had not been two minutes in
+the room before her ball-programme began to fill rapidly&mdash;too rapidly.
+She was too experienced a dancer not to make a point of reserving
+several dances "for contingencies."</p>
+
+<p>"Don't introduce me to anyone else&mdash;please," she said to Arthur Miles,
+who was standing by her, inscribing his name on her card. "I shall have
+too many strangers on my hands, and I get so tired of strangers."</p>
+
+<p>"There's North, the dramatic author, imploring me to introduce him&mdash;he
+wants to dramatise 'Cicely Montfort.' How that book has taken! I hope
+you are reaping substantial benefits, Miss Allonby?"</p>
+
+<p>"Yes, pretty well, as times go, thank you," she answered, laughing a
+little as she remembered that her pretty gown had been earned by the
+industrious and popular "Cicely."</p>
+
+<p>"I don't think it's much use my talking to him," she went on. "I have as
+good as promised to help Mr. Hollis dramatize it for the Corinthian."</p>
+
+<p>"Then you and Mr. Hollis had better make haste, or North will have the
+start of you. He's the fastest writer I know, and I believe he has it
+already arranged in a prologue and three acts."</p>
+
+<p>"Yes, there must be a prologue&mdash;that is the drawback," said Wyn, slowly.
+"But," with a sudden bright look, "you are making me talk 'shop,' Mr.
+Miles!"</p>
+
+<p>"Am I? Very sorry. Here comes Dick Arden to take you off. I must go and
+find out if the beauty is here&mdash;she is fashionably late."</p>
+
+<p>"The beauty? Has Mr. Miles a new beauty on view to-night?"</p>
+
+<p>"I should just think he has, and no mistake about it this time. Have you
+not heard about her? She is a great heiress, and all London is to go mad
+over her. The <i>pater</i> is doing her picture in oils for the R.A. He says
+she is simply the most beautiful creature he has ever seen. She is
+coming to-night, under the escort of Lady Somebody-or-other. Hallo!
+There are the Ortons!"</p>
+
+<p>"Where?" Wynifred turned her head swiftly. She knew them slightly, on
+account of the business relations between Osmond and Frederick. She
+watched with some interest as her brother, who was standing near the
+door, shook hands and entered into conversation with them. Ottilie was
+looking excessively handsome, in a black velvet dress, cut very low in
+the bodice, a profusion of jewels decorating her neck, arms, and head.
+She had grown somewhat thinner in the months she had lately spent
+abroad, but her color was as rich and vivid as ever. Wyn saw Osmond ask
+her to dance, and lead her away, and then Dick Arden, the pleasant
+looking young artist at her elbow, broke in with,</p>
+
+<p>"When your meditation is quite finished, Miss Allonby, I am longing for
+a turn."</p>
+
+<p>With a laughing apology she laid her hand on his arm, and followed him
+into the dancing-room.</p>
+
+<p>The drawing-room at Innisfallen adjoined the studio, separated by
+enormous sliding-doors, and voluminous curtains of amethyst velvet.
+To-night the doors were folded back, the curtains looped in masses of
+dusky light and shade, so that the guests standing in the drawing-room
+could see the couples as they circled round.</p>
+
+<p>Wyn began to enjoy herself. The floor was perfect, the band, as Hilda
+had prophesied, Willoughby's. She liked dancing, and she liked Dick
+Arden. Everyone knows that Woodstead is the suburb of London most famed
+for its dancing and its pretty girls. In Woodstead the dismal cry of "No
+dancing men!" is a thing unknown. On this particular night, the dancers
+were drawn from hundreds of neighborhoods, so that the waltzing was not
+so faultless as it was wont to be at the Town Hall; but Wyn knew whom to
+choose and whom to avoid, and her present partner left little to be
+desired.</p>
+
+<p>Who could be sentimentally afflicted, she cried in her heart, with a
+good floor, a good band, and a good partner? The vivid memory of the
+weeks at Edge Combe seemed paler than it had ever been before. After
+all, it had only been an episode, and it was in the past now. Every day
+it receded further back; it was dying out, fading, disappearing.</p>
+
+<p>The dancers flashed past. Osmond and Ottilie Orton, tall and commanding;
+Jacqueline and young Haldane, both talking as fast as they could, and
+laughing into each other's eyes; Hilda, quiet and queenly, with an
+adoring partner. It seemed a bright, hopeful world, a world full of
+people interested in other people. Was there no one in it who had a
+tender thought for her&mdash;for Wynifred? She did not want admiration, or
+fame, or notice, or favorable criticism. She was a woman, and she wanted
+love.</p>
+
+<p>But no! This would not do. The stream of her reflections would carry her
+the wrong way. Forward must she look&mdash;never back, on past weakness and
+shortcoming. The music ceased with a long-drawn chord of strings. The
+waltz was over.</p>
+
+<p>Wyn and her partner were at the lower end of the vast studio. As they
+turned to walk up the floor towards the archway, the girl caught sight
+of a head&mdash;a fair head thrown into relief against the dark background of
+the amethyst curtain. For a moment she felt sick, faint, and cold. Then
+she rallied, in a little burst of inward rage. What! Upset by a chance
+likeness?</p>
+
+<p>They moved on. A crowd of intervening people shut out that suggestive
+head from view. Wyn unfurled her crimson fan, and smiled at Dick Arden.</p>
+
+<p>"That <i>was</i> delightful," he was saying, warmly. "Won't you give me
+another? Do say you will. An extra&mdash;anything&mdash;only do give me one more."</p>
+
+<p>The next instant she was face to face with Claud Cranmer.</p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<h2>CHAPTER XXXVI.</h2>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i12">"That fawn-skin-dappled hair of hers,<br /></span>
+<span class="i16">And the blue eye<br /></span>
+<span class="i16">Dear and dewy,<br /></span>
+<span class="i12">And that infantine fresh air of hers."<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i24"><i>A Pretty Woman.</i><br /></span>
+</div></div>
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+
+<p>It was no fancy. There he stood, trim and fresh as ever, a small bunch
+of Neapolitan violets in his button-hole, his hands behind him, and
+wearing his usual expression of alert interest in what was passing
+around him. He was looking remarkably well, and a good deal tanned, so
+that the clearness of his blue-grey eyes showed more strongly than
+usual. His face was turned fully towards Wynifred, but he was not
+looking at her, but beyond, away down the room.</p>
+
+<p>That trifling fact saved her self-respect. Had his eyes been upon her,
+he must have seen something&mdash;some sudden flash of uncontrollable
+feeling, which would have told him what she would almost have died to
+prevent his knowing. But in the few moments given to her she was able
+partially to rally, to tear her eyes from his face, to turn to her
+partner, even to smile at what he was saying, and to make a reply which,
+if neither long nor brilliant, was at least not wide of the mark. Those
+two minutes seemed really two hours to her. First the sudden shock, then
+the recovery, so slow as it had seemed, the turning of her head an inch
+to the left, the set smile, the brief answer, and then they were in the
+doorway ... were, passing him by.... No human power could have made her
+lift her eyes to his as she passed; yet she saw him without
+looking&mdash;knew how close he was, felt her gown brush his foot, and heard
+his voice an instant later ejaculate,</p>
+
+<p>"Miss Allonby!"</p>
+
+<p>It had come. As she paused, turned her head, raised her gaze to his, she
+was more thankful than ever that she had even so brief a preparation;
+for the expression of Mr. Cranmer's face could not exactly be considered
+flattering. It was made up of several ingredients, but embarrassment was
+predominant. There was a slight added color in his cheeks&mdash;a hesitation
+in his manner. He was off guard, and could not immediately collect
+himself.</p>
+
+<p>A secret fury of indignation at her own folly helped to make Wynifred's
+smile most coldly sweet. As she held out her hand she slightly arched
+her eyebrows as though he were the last person she had expected to meet;
+as indeed he had been, not three minutes ago. He greeted her with some
+confusion, his eyes roamed over her dress, and never in all her life had
+she been so devoutly thankful that she was in this respect for once past
+criticism.</p>
+
+<p>Nothing gives a greater confidence than the consciousness of looking
+one's best. As the girl stood before Claud, she felt that to-night the
+advantage was hers. He had not thought it worth while to call in
+Mansfield Road; he should see that the Allonby family was by no means
+dependent on his chance favors.</p>
+
+<p>The usual tepid and stereotyped formalities were gone through.</p>
+
+<p>"How do you do, Miss Allonby? It is an unexpected pleasure to meet you
+here."</p>
+
+<p>"Really! I think it is I who ought to be surprised. I am always at Mrs.
+Miles' parties, and I never met you before."</p>
+
+<p>"No&mdash;it is my first visit. I hope you are all well? Is either of your
+sisters here?"</p>
+
+<p>"Yes, both; and my brother too. Are you alone?"</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, dear, no: Mab is here somewhere, and Miss Brabourne&mdash;&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>Here Dick Arden became restive.</p>
+
+<p>"Miss Wynifred!" he murmured, reproachfully, making an onward step.</p>
+
+<p>Wyn inclined her head with another small and civil smile, and made as
+though she would have passed on.</p>
+
+<p>"Miss Allonby&mdash;stay! Won't you give me a waltz?" cried Claud, hastily.</p>
+
+<p>"I have none till quite the end of the programme, and I am afraid you
+will have gone home by then," replied Wyn, airily, over her shoulder.</p>
+
+<p>Claud went forward, determinedly.</p>
+
+<p>"If you will give me one, I will stay for it," he said, with some
+energy.</p>
+
+<p>"Well, you shall have number nineteen; but mind you don't trouble to
+wait if it is not quite convenient."</p>
+
+<p>"Somebody else will be only too happy to step into your shoes, if you
+are not forthcoming," laughed Dick Arden. "Miss Wynifred&mdash;I hope that is
+not my promised dance you are giving away!"</p>
+
+<p>They were gone&mdash;the slim, white-robed girl and her partner had vanished
+among the parti-colored couples who paraded the room. Claud's' glance
+followed them with a fatal fascination. He saw them pass through a
+sidedoor into a shadowy conservatory, and then, with a start, roused
+himself to the consideration of what had passed. He had met Wynifred
+Allonby again. How very nice she looked in white. How nice she looked
+altogether. Was there not something different about her since the
+summer&mdash;an altered look in her face? Her eyes! He never noticed, at Edge
+Combe, what pretty eyes she had; but now&mdash;&mdash;. He moved restlessly down
+towards the band. Why did they not strike up? This was only number four
+on the programme, and he had to exist, somehow, till the bitter end. He
+might as well dance, it would perhaps pass the time rather more quickly.</p>
+
+<p>Actuated by this idea, he started in pursuit of Elsa.</p>
+
+<p>Meanwhile, scarcely had Wynifred gained the shelter of the ante-room,
+when she turned to her partner abruptly.</p>
+
+<p>"We must hunt up Osmond before we do anything else," she cried,
+peremptorily. "I want to speak to him at once."</p>
+
+<p>Mr. Arden knew her too well to attempt to gainsay her. They hurried
+through the rooms till they reached the tearoom, where Mrs. Frederick
+Orton was seated in state while Osmond waited upon her.</p>
+
+<p>"Osmond, my dear boy," said Wyn, eagerly, going up to him, "I must just
+say five words to you. Come here&mdash;bend down your head&mdash;listen! Elsa
+Brabourne is here to-night. Yes," as he started violently, "she is, I
+know, for I have just seen Mr. Cranmer, and he told me. I thought I
+would warn you. Oh, my dear, don't be rash, I implore you! Think of her
+changed position, since we last saw her&mdash;think what a great heiress she
+is! She has the world at her feet. Don't look like that, dear, I don't
+want to hurt you&mdash;only to warn you. Be on your guard! Don't let her
+trample on you!"</p>
+
+<p>"Trample on me! She! You don't know her&mdash;you could never appreciate&mdash;you
+always misjudged her!" said the young man, resentfully, under his
+breath. "A more innocent, simple-minded creature I never saw than she!
+They cannot have spoilt her&mdash;yet!"</p>
+
+<p>He was quivering with eagerness.</p>
+
+<p>"Thanks for coming to tell me," he said, hurriedly. "I will go and find
+her. Never fear for me. I'm not a fool."</p>
+
+<p>"But, oh, my poor boy, I am not so sure of that," sighed the sister,
+secretly, as she left the room again with her partner.</p>
+
+<p>As she passed back through the drawing-room where the hostess was
+receiving her guests, her attention was attracted by the figure of a
+girl who was standing with her back to them, talking to Arthur Miles.</p>
+
+<p>Dick Arden turned suddenly to her.</p>
+
+<p>"Who is that?" he asked breathlessly.</p>
+
+<p>Only the back, straight and slender, was visible, its white silk bodice
+leaving bare a neck that would not have degraded the Venus de Medici. A
+small head, crowned with masses of rippled golden hair, was bent
+slightly to one side, showing a spray of lillies and a flash of
+diamonds. An enormous fan of snowy ostrich feathers formed a background
+to this faultless head.</p>
+
+<p>Dick and Wyn were both artists. Simultaneously they moved forward, to
+catch a full view of the face belonging to a back which promised so
+rarely.</p>
+
+<p>As they came towards her, the beauty turned in their direction, and a
+sigh of admiring wonder heaved Mr. Arden's breast as he gazed. It was
+Elsa.</p>
+
+<p>Wyn knew her in the same instant that she recognized her astonishing
+beauty.</p>
+
+<p>This was something far more wonderful than mere good looks. Regular
+features, a clear white skin, large eyes, good teeth, abundant hair&mdash;no
+doubt these are important factors in the structure of a woman, but Elsa
+possessed something far more subtle, more dangerous then any of these.</p>
+
+<p>The trouble, the horror through which she had passed had left something
+behind&mdash;an indefinable but real influence&mdash;a dash of sadness&mdash;a shadow,
+a suggestiveness, which gave to mouth and eyes a pathos calculated to
+drive the soberest of men out of his senses. Had she been brought up
+like other girls, among companions of her own age&mdash;gone to juvenile
+parties, stayed at fashionable watering places, attended a select
+boarding-school, she would, of course, have grown up handsome; nature
+had amply provided for that, but her beauty would have been robbed of
+what was its chief charm. As it was, she was not only lovely, but
+unique; and her superb physical health added a crowning touch to her
+dissimilarity from the pretty, delicate, more or less jaded and
+over-educated London girls who surrounded her.</p>
+
+<p>As her eyes met Wyn's, she started, and came forward, with that
+bewitching shyness which was one of her great points.</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, Wyn! Lady Mabel, here is Miss Allonby!"</p>
+
+<p>Lady Mabel Wynch-Fr�re turned quickly.</p>
+
+<p>"Why&mdash;so it is! I am charmed to meet you," she cried, with much
+<i>empressement</i>. "Of course, if I had only thought, Woodstead is your
+part of the world, is it not? What a charming part it seems! This house
+is lovely. I am so glad we came. Mr. Miles is painting Elsa's picture,
+you know. I think it will be a great success. And how is your work
+getting on?"</p>
+
+<p>"Pretty well, thank you."</p>
+
+<p>"I thought it must be! I have been, like everyone else, reading 'Cicely
+Montfort.' Is it true that it is to be dramatised?"</p>
+
+<p>"I believe so."</p>
+
+<p>"How proud you must be! it is so grand to feel that one has really done
+some good work, and swelled the list of useful women. You must come and
+see us as soon as you possibly can. Elsa is making a long stay with me.
+She is only just come back to England, you know. She has been cruising
+in the Mediterranean with two of her aunts, in Mr. Percivale's yacht;
+and my brother has been with them for about six weeks&mdash;ever since he
+returned from Scotland; he is here to-night, have you seen him?"</p>
+
+<p>"Yes, just to speak to. He said you and Miss Brabourne were here,"
+returned Wyn feeling greatly mollified to hear that, by all accounts,
+Claud had not been in London since they parted in the summer.</p>
+
+<p>"It has done the child so much good," said Lady Mabel, dropping her
+voice. "She is fast recovering, but she was desperately ill after&mdash;after
+that sad affair, you know. I daresay you wonder to see her at a ball so
+soon; but they dare not let her mope. The doctors said she must at all
+risks be kept happy and amused. The yachting was the saving of her, I do
+believe. It was Mr. Percivale's suggestion."</p>
+
+<p>"Is he here to-night?" Wyn could not resist asking.</p>
+
+<p>"Yes, somewhere. I do not see him just now, Mrs. Miles carried him off.
+Ah! here he comes, with that girl in the primrose gown; is it not one of
+your sisters?"</p>
+
+<p>"Yes,&mdash;Hilda," answered Wyn, with much interest. "Is that Mr. Percivale?
+What a fine head!"</p>
+
+<p>"Is it not?" said Lady Mabel, with enthusiasm. "You are an artist, you
+can appreciate it. Some people say he has red hair, and that his style
+is so <i>outr�</i>; for my part, I do like a man who dares to be unlike other
+men! He has a distinct style of his own, and he knows it. He declines to
+clip and trim himself down to the level of everybody else! but there is
+nothing obtrusive about him."</p>
+
+<p>This was true. As Percivale advanced, Wyn was constrained to admit that
+a more distinguished gentleman she had never beheld. His face fascinated
+her. It expressed so clearly the simple nobility of his soul. He came up
+to where Lady Mabel was standing, Hilda Allonby on his arm, and then a
+number of introductions took place.</p>
+
+<p>Suddenly, with impetuous footstep, a gentleman approached the group.
+Elsa turned her face, and one of her slow, beautiful smiles dawned over
+eyes and mouth as, with perfect self-possession, she stretched out her
+hand in greeting.</p>
+
+<p>It was Osmond; he was white as death, and so excited as to be unable to
+speak connectedly. He took the little white-gloved hand in his, and
+seemed at once to become oblivious of his surroundings. Wyn was obliged
+to remind him of his manners.</p>
+
+<p>"Osmond, here is Lady Mabel."</p>
+
+<p>Mr. Percivale, at the sound of the name, turned round suddenly, and for
+several seconds the two men remained looking one another in the face.</p>
+
+<p>They presented the somewhat unusual spectacle of a pair of rivals, both
+of whom were quite determined to fight fair. But Percivale's
+tranquillity was in strong contrast to Osmond's flushed and manifest
+disorder. To Wyn there was something cruel about it&mdash;the rich
+yacht-owner, the poor, struggling artist. It could never be an even
+contest.</p>
+
+<p>"We ought to be acquainted, Mr. Allonby," said Percivale, after a
+moment.</p>
+
+<p>"Indeed? I have not the honor&mdash;&mdash;" began Osmond, struggling for an
+indifferent manner.</p>
+
+<p>"My name is Percivale," said the owner of the <i>Swan</i>. "Perhaps you may
+have heard it."</p>
+
+<p>Osmond bowed. In the presence of Elsa, it was not possible to allude to
+the events which had brought the yacht to Edge Combe.</p>
+
+<p>"I am glad to meet you, Mr. Percivale," he managed to say, with some
+stiffness. "Miss Brabourne, may I hope for the honor of a dance?"</p>
+
+<p>Again the girl smiled at him, accompanying the smile with a look half
+mischievous, half pleading, and wholly inviting, as if deprecating the
+formality of his address.</p>
+
+<p>"Yes, of course you may," she said, shyly. "Will you have this one?"</p>
+
+<p>"Will I! May I?"</p>
+
+<p>The rapturous monosyllables were all that he could command. Next instant
+he felt the light touch of that white glove on his coat-sleeve&mdash;he was
+walking away with her, out of reach of all observing eyes; he was
+floating in a Paradise of sudden, wild happiness. Of what was to come he
+recked nothing. The present was enough for him.</p>
+
+<p>"Elsa!" he gasped, as soon as he could speak, "I thought you had
+forgotten me!"</p>
+
+<p>"But I have not, you see."</p>
+
+<p>"But you have not! I might have known it. Where shall we go&mdash;what shall
+we do? Do not let us dance, let us sit down somewhere; I have a thousand
+things that I must say."</p>
+
+<p>But this suggestion was most displeasing to Miss Brabourne.</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, but, please, you must dance," said she, in disappointed tones. "I
+want to practise, as I shall have to dance so much, and it is such a
+good opportunity for you to teach me!"</p>
+
+<p>"To teach you! I expect I shall be the learner," cried Osmond; but in
+this he was mistaken.</p>
+
+<p>His divinity could not waltz at all. He instructed her for some time, a
+conviction darkly growing in his mind that she never would be able to
+master this subtle art. But what of that? Could he regret it, when she
+calmly said,</p>
+
+<p>"I should like to dance with you a great many times, please, if you
+don't mind. I feel as if I needed a great deal of teaching."</p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<h2>CHAPTER XXXVII.</h2>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i12">"Oh, sir, she smiled, no doubt,<br /></span>
+<span class="i12">Whene'er I passed her; but who passed without<br /></span>
+<span class="i12">Much the same smile?"<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i24"><i>My Last Duchess.</i><br /></span>
+</div></div>
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+
+<p>"Our dance, I believe. Miss Allonby."</p>
+
+<p>Wynifred, quietly seated by her partner, raised her eyes deliberately.</p>
+
+<p>"You, Mr. Cranmer? I thought you had gone some time ago."</p>
+
+<p>"Indeed? Am I in the habit of breaking my word?" asked Claud, stiffly.</p>
+
+<p>"Oh," said the girl, as she rose and took his arm, "to cut a dance is
+not considered breaking one's word in <i>le monde o� l'on s'ennuie</i>,
+especially when to keep it would be to make the horses stand in the
+cold!"</p>
+
+<p>"The horses are not standing now, so be easy on that score. I have not
+carried my heroism to that extent. Now, what made you say you thought I
+had gone?"</p>
+
+<p>"Lady Mabel has been gone some time."</p>
+
+<p>"Does that entail my going too? Had she not a gentleman in attendance?
+Are there no hansom cabs in London? Do you think I am tied to Mab's
+apron-strings?"</p>
+
+<p>"I have usually met you together."</p>
+
+<p>Claud made no answer. He was slightly piqued.</p>
+
+<p>How could he know that for these few minutes the girl on his arm had
+hungered and longed all the evening, that all other interests had seemed
+to be merged in the one question&mdash;Would he stay, or would he not? How
+could he know that for the moment she was tasting a happiness as brief
+and delusive, though more controlled, than poor Osmond's?</p>
+
+<p>Like most men, he only saw what she chose to show him&mdash;a disengaged
+manner, a sharp tongue, and her customary indifference.</p>
+
+<p>It exasperated him. What! When the sight of her had moved him so
+unusually, was she to treat him as any one of the crowd! What a fool he
+was, to waste a thought upon her! He was in a frame of mind approaching
+the vindictive. He would have liked to make her suffer; as she, poor
+child, was feeling every moment as if the strain were becoming too
+severe&mdash;as though her store of self-command were ebbing, and she must
+betray herself.</p>
+
+<p>They began to dance.</p>
+
+<p>It has been truly said that our very waltzes are melancholy, now-a-days.
+This was a conspicuously sad one. It seemed to steal into Wynifred's
+very soul. It was as though the burden of useless longing must weigh
+down her light feet and clog her easy motion. She could not speak, and
+for some minutes they waltzed in silence. At last&mdash;</p>
+
+<p>"I have not forgiven you for thinking I should fail to keep my
+appointment," said he.</p>
+
+<p>"You seem very much exercised on the subject," she laughed back. "I am
+sorry it entailed so much effort and self-denial."</p>
+
+<p>"You wilfully misinterpret, as Darcy said to Elizabeth Bennett."</p>
+
+<p>"You are not much like Darcy."</p>
+
+<p>"Now why?" said Claud, nettled for some unaccountable reason, "why am I
+not like Darcy? Your reasons, if you please."</p>
+
+<p>"Don't ask me to make personal remarks."</p>
+
+<p>"I insist upon it! I will not have my character darkly aspersed."</p>
+
+<p>"Well, you have brought it upon yourself. The difference is that,
+whereas Mr. Darcy seemed excessively haughty and unapproachable on first
+acquaintance, yet was, in his real self, most humble, unassuming, and
+ready to acknowledge himself in error; Mr. Cranmer, on the contrary,
+seems easy, debonair, and ready to fraternise with everyone; but on
+closer knowledge he is found to be exceedingly proud, exclusive,
+and&mdash;and&mdash;all that a peer's son should be. There! what do you not owe me
+for that delicate piece of flattery?"</p>
+
+<p>"What do I owe you? A deep and dire revenge, which I will take forthwith
+by drawing, not a contrast, but a likeness between you and Elizabeth
+Bennett. She was deeply attracted by the shallow, insincere, and
+fraudulent Wickham. She began by grossly underrating poor Darcy, and
+imputing to him the vilest of motives; she ended by overrating him as
+unjustly. In other words, her estimate of character was invariably
+incorrect. In this respect there is a striking resemblance between you."</p>
+
+<p>"I can almost forgive you your unexampled rudeness, on account of your
+knowing your 'Pride and Prejudice' so well," cried Wyn, in delight.
+"But, alas! what is a poor novelist to say in answer to such a crushing
+charge! I must retire from business at once, if I am no judge of
+character."</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, you are young, there is hope for you yet if you will but take
+advice."</p>
+
+<p>"Willingly! But it must be from one competent to advise!"</p>
+
+<p>"And who is to settle that?"</p>
+
+<p>"I, myself, of course!"</p>
+
+<p>"You have great confidence," said Claud, "in that judgment which, as I
+have just told you, is incurably faulty."</p>
+
+<p>"Pause a moment! One step further, and we shall have rushed headlong
+into a discussion on the right of private judgment, and, once begun, who
+knows where it would end?"</p>
+
+<p>"We have a way of trending on problematical subjects, have we not?" said
+Claud, with a gay laugh.</p>
+
+<p>He wondered at himself&mdash;his good humor was quite restored. Just a few
+minutes' unimportant chat with Wynifred, and he was charmed into his
+very best mood. She annoyed and fascinated at the same moment, she acted
+like a tonic, always stimulating, never cloying. What she might say next
+was never certain, and the uncertainty kept him always on the <i>qui
+vive</i>. He could imagine no pleasure more subtle.</p>
+
+<p>He began to understand his danger more completely than heretofore.
+To-night he realised that a continued acquaintance with Miss Allonby
+could have but one end. Was there yet time to save himself? Would he do
+so if he could?</p>
+
+<p>The glamor which her presence shed over his spirit showed itself by
+outward and visible signs, in the genial light of the grey eyes, the
+smiling curve of the mouth, in the whole expression of the pleasant
+face. In her society he was at his best, and he felt it. Everything was
+more enjoyable, life more vivid when she was there, she was the mental
+stimulus he needed.</p>
+
+<p>Yielding to this happy mood, which each shared alike, they sank into
+seats when the music ceased, scarcely noting that the dance was over.
+Suddenly, in the midst of his light talk, Claud broke off short,
+ejaculating in surprise,</p>
+
+<p>"By George, there's the tragedy queen!"</p>
+
+<p>Wyn, looking up, saw Mrs. Orton in the centre of the polished floor,
+gracefully bidding "good night" to her hostess.</p>
+
+<p>"I wonder&mdash;oh, I <i>wonder</i> if she came across Percivale," said Claud,
+eyeing her intently. "I would give my best hat to see them meet! How she
+does hate him! I never saw a woman in a rage in my life really, until I
+saw Mrs. Frederick Orton at the inquest."</p>
+
+<p>"Ah, you were there! I wish," said Wyn, "that you would tell me all
+about it. I have heard so few details. All that I have heard was from
+Mr. Fowler. He is very kind, but not a clever writer of letters. I think
+he is unaccustomed to it."</p>
+
+<p>"Very probably. So he writes to you! I think," he looked keenly at her,
+"I never saw a more thoroughly first-rate fellow."</p>
+
+<p>"I go every length with you, as Jac would say. He is good. I think I
+rejoiced over Elsa's innocence as much for his sake as for anything."</p>
+
+<p>"Yes. He was splendid at the inquest. He and Percivale are a pair for
+never losing their tempers under any provocation. That woman
+contradicted him, insulted him, abused him, but he never let her get the
+better of him for a moment. What a curious thing human nature is! She
+had so nursed some sort of grudge against Miss Brabourne that it has
+grown into a blazing hatred, which is the ruling passion of her life. I
+honestly believe that to have proved the girl guilty of murder would
+have afforded her the keenest satisfaction. She was furious at being
+baulked of her revenge."</p>
+
+<p>"Oh! Such a thing is inhuman&mdash;incredible! If I put such a character into
+one of my books, people would call it unpardonably overdrawn," said Wyn,
+in horror.</p>
+
+<p>"I daresay; but it is true. Remember she was in a desperate frame of
+mind altogether. They were literally without money, and they came down
+there to find that the boy, from whom came their sole chance of funds,
+was dead. It seemed only fair that somebody should be made to suffer for
+Mrs. Orton's exceeding discomfort. That was all. But I believe she would
+do Percivale a bad turn, if she could."</p>
+
+<p>"Who <i>is</i> Mr. Percivale?" asked Wyn.</p>
+
+<p>"That's just what nobody quite knows," said Claud, with a puzzled laugh.
+"All I know about him is that he is a gentleman in the word's truest
+sense. He is very reserved; never speaks of himself, and one can't
+exactly ask a man straight out who his father was. He is a good deal
+talked about in society, as you may guess, and the society journals
+manufacture a fresh lie about him, on an average, once a month. He
+evidently dislikes publicity, for he never races that beautiful yacht of
+his, or gives large donations to public institutions, or opens bazaars,
+or lays foundation-stones, or in any other way attracts attention to
+himself. That made it all the more generous of him to espouse Miss
+Brabourne's cause so frankly. He knew what it would bring upon him. You
+can't think how much he had to suffer from the idiots sent down to
+interview him, the letters imploring him for his photograph, the
+journalists trying to bribe his crew to tell what their captain
+withheld. He could not prevent surreptitious newspaper artists from
+making sketches of the <i>Swan</i> as she lay at anchor; but his full anger
+blazed up when the <i>Pen and Pencil</i> produced a page of heads&mdash;you saw
+it, of course&mdash;including portraits of him, Fowler, myself, the idiot
+Saul, poor Godfrey, and Miss Brabourne. Where they got them from is to
+this day a mystery. We suppose most of them must have been done at the
+inquest. Ah! that was an exciting day. I can feel the enthusiasm of it
+now. It was splendid to see that fine fellow held up in the arms of the
+fisher-lads, with the sunshine blazing on him, and the bells clashing
+out from the tower!&mdash;the sort of thing one sees only once in a lifetime.
+It sounded like a bit of an old romance. I often tell Percivale he is an
+anachronism."</p>
+
+<p>"He has a wonderful face; but it does strike one as strange that he
+should be so mysterious," said Wynifred. "Has he no family&mdash;no
+relations&mdash;no home?"</p>
+
+<p>"He has no near relations living&mdash;he told me that himself," answered
+Claud. "He also told me that his mother died when he was born, and his
+father two months before. He was brought up in a castle in Bavaria by an
+English clergyman who had known his parents. This man was a recluse, and
+a great scholar. He died some years ago. Percivale has had as little of
+ladies' society as if he had been a monk. Now you know exactly as much
+as I do of his antecedents, Miss Allonby."</p>
+
+<p>"I am afraid I seem very inquisitive; but to a writer of fiction there
+is a certain attraction about such an unusual history."</p>
+
+<p>"And such an unusual personality. He is unlike anyone else I ever knew.
+I wonder," said Claud, feeling in his pockets, "if I have a note from
+him that I could show you. Yes. Here, read that. It is not like most
+people's notes."</p>
+
+<p>Wynifred unfolded the stiff sheet of paper, and read. The hand was
+rather small and very peculiar. It seemed as though the writer were
+accustomed to write Greek. It was particularly clear.</p>
+
+<blockquote><p>"<span class="smcap">Dear Cranmer</span>,</p>
+
+<p>"Please help me. The German Opera Company is in London, and Miss
+Brabourne has often expressed a wish to hear some Wagner. If I take
+a box, could you bring your sister, Lady Mabel Wynch-Fr�re, and
+Miss Brabourne to fill it? If you think they would care to come,
+let me know what night they are free. It is the "Meistersinger" on
+Tuesday, and "Lohengrin" on Thursday. I wish you would answer this
+personally, rather than in writing. Dinner this evening at 7.30, if
+you care for the theatre afterwards. It is a week since we met.</p>
+
+<p class="right">"Affectionately yours,&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;<br />
+"<span class="smcap">Leon Percivale</span>.</p>
+
+<p>"7, St James' Place, Thursday."</p></blockquote>
+
+<p>"Is there not something unique about that?" asked Claud, as she gave it
+back. "He always signs himself mine affectionately, in the most natural
+way possible. I am glad of it; I have a very sincere affection for him."</p>
+
+<p>"I like his note very much," said Wyn, with a smile. "Thank you for
+letting me see it. You and he are great friends."</p>
+
+<p>"I was with him seven or eight weeks on the <i>Swan</i>. He insisted on
+leaving England the moment he found that he had become a public
+character."</p>
+
+<p>"Is he English? His note reads like it."</p>
+
+<p>"I believe his father was English and his mother German; so I presume it
+was through her that he inherited his beautiful <i>Schloss</i>."</p>
+
+<p>"Have you seen it?"</p>
+
+<p>"Yes, I spent a week there. It is among the most northern spurs of the
+Tyrolese Alps. When there, you cease to wonder that Percivale is so
+unlike other people. It is like going back into a past age. The
+peasantry are Arcadian to a degree, the spot remote beyond the
+imagination of English people. The nearest railway station leaves you a
+day's journey from Schwannberg. Do you know Defregger's Tyrolese
+pictures? All the people are just like that. Over the door of every room
+in the castle is carved the swan, which is the family crest."</p>
+
+<p>"But his father was English, I think you said?"</p>
+
+<p>"Why&mdash;yes&mdash;I never thought of that. The arms must belong to the other
+side of the family, I suppose," said Claud, thoughtfully. "That is
+rather odd, certainly."</p>
+
+<p>He turned with a start. Osmond Allonby was standing before them.</p>
+
+<p>"Wyn, I'm sorry to interrupt you but we must really be going. We are
+almost the last."</p>
+
+<p>The girl rose at once, and held out her hand to Claud.</p>
+
+<p>"Good-night, Mr. Cranmer. I wish I had time to hear more about the
+inquest. I had been longing for news, and it is kind of you to have told
+me so much."</p>
+
+<p>He rose too, and took the offered hand.</p>
+
+<p>"Must you go?" he said, scarcely knowing that he said it.</p>
+
+<p>In another moment she had released her hand and was walking calmly away.
+Not a word had she said about hoping to see him again. He was conscious
+of an intense wish that she should not go; he was not strong enough, he
+found, to let her depart thus. He made a step forward.</p>
+
+<p>"Miss Allonby."</p>
+
+<p>She paused.</p>
+
+<p>"I shall be in town for some weeks now, probably. May I come and see you
+at Mansfield Road?"</p>
+
+<p>She turned to her brother.</p>
+
+<p>"We shall be pleased to see Mr. Cranmer, if he cares to come, shall we
+not, Osmond?"</p>
+
+<p>"Certainly," said Osmond, cordially.</p>
+
+<p>"Which day is most convenient for you?"</p>
+
+<p>"You will not find Osmond on Mondays or Thursdays, as he conducts a
+life-class at the Woodstead Art School on those days; any other day.
+Good-night."</p>
+
+<p>She was gone. He felt half-angry that she had so easily led him on to
+waste time in talking of indifferent topics. Yet, had she left him to
+choose a subject, what would his choice have been?</p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<h2>CHAPTER XXXVIII.</h2>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i12">She should never have looked at me if she meant I should not love her!<br /></span>
+<span class="i12">There are plenty ... men, you call such, I suppose ... she may discover<br /></span>
+<span class="i12">All her soul too, if she pleases, and yet leave much as she found them:<br /></span>
+<span class="i12">But I'm not so, and she knew it when she fixed me, glancing round them.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i24"><i>Cristina.</i><br /></span>
+</div></div>
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+
+<p>A variety of reasons kept the Allonbys very silent as they drove home
+that night.</p>
+
+<p>When Mansfield Road was reached, they walked into the hall, still in the
+same silence. Osmond dismissed the cabman, followed them in, and made
+fast the bars and bolts for the night.</p>
+
+<p>"Good-night, old man," said Jac, coming up for a kiss.</p>
+
+<p>"Good-night, young woman," he replied, with the air of one who does not
+intend to be drawn into conversation.</p>
+
+<p>"Girls," said Hilda, over the stairs. "Sal has put a fire in my
+bed-room. Come along."</p>
+
+<p>Jac flew upstairs. Wyn lingered a moment.</p>
+
+<p>"Are you coming to bed, Osmond?" she said, anxiously, as she saw him
+unlock the door leading to the studio.</p>
+
+<p>"I think I'll have a pipe first," he answered, in a constrained voice.
+"Run to bed and don't bother."</p>
+
+<p>She hesitated a moment, but, seeing that interference would be useless,
+went on upstairs, and joined the <i>s�ance</i> round Hilda's fire.</p>
+
+<p>"Well," said Hilda, with a long sigh, "it <i>was</i> a delightful dance,
+wasn't it?"</p>
+
+<p>"The nicest I was ever at," returned Jac, with smiles dimpling round her
+mouth.</p>
+
+<p>Wyn did not echo these comments. She sat down with a sigh, and pulled
+off her gloves.</p>
+
+<p>"How well our lilies have lasted, Hilda," said Jac, spying at her own
+head in the glass. "Not a bit faded, are they? Wyn, you old wretch, you
+did look well. How everybody praised you up. I should think your head is
+turned."</p>
+
+<p>"Humph!" was Wyn's discontented reply.</p>
+
+<p>There was a pause, during which Jac secured Hilda's programme, and
+stealthily examined it.</p>
+
+<p>"Well!" said Wyn, suddenly. "Now you have seen Lady Mabel, what do you
+think of her."</p>
+
+<p>"She is exactly what I expected," observed Jac, who was possessed of
+considerable acumen. "That impulsive, frank manner is of great service
+to her. Nothing escapes her notice, I can tell you! She has decided not
+to take us up as a family. She does not feel quite sure as to what we
+might do. Vaguely she feels that Hilda and I are formidable, and poor
+Osmond, of course, is to be steadily discouraged. She will ask you, Wyn,
+because you are rather a celebrity just now; but nobody else."</p>
+
+<p>"Jac&mdash;I think you misjudge&mdash;&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>"All right. Wait a fortnight. If an invitation comes for Osmond, Hilda,
+or me, to Bruton Street, I will humbly apologise for my uncharitable
+judgment."</p>
+
+<p>"Jac is right," said Hilda, suddenly. "I spied Lady Mabel's eye upon me
+when I approached with Mr. Percivale!"</p>
+
+<p>"By the way, do you like Mr. Percivale?" asked Wyn.</p>
+
+<p>"I should think so!" was the emphatic answer.</p>
+
+<p>Wyn passed her hand wearily over her brow.</p>
+
+<p>"You look very tired, dear child," said Hilda, sympathetically.</p>
+
+<p>"I am worried&mdash;about Osmond," she sighed. "I would give so much if&mdash;all
+that&mdash;had never taken place between him and Elsa. One sees now how
+hopeless&mdash;how <i>insane</i> the bare idea is; but I am afraid he doesn't
+think so, poor fellow!"</p>
+
+<p>"Lady Mabel was very off-hand with him," said Jac. "I was near when she
+was ready to go, and Elsa was dancing with Osmond. Do you know, she
+danced five times with him."</p>
+
+<p>"It was too bad of her!" cried Wyn.</p>
+
+<p>"If she does not mean to marry him, it certainly was," said Hilda.</p>
+
+<p>"Mean to marry him! They would not let her! I am thankful at least that
+there was no engagement," returned Wynifred, with energy. "That would
+just save his dignity, poor fellow, if one could restrain him, but I
+know he will rush like a moth to his candle, and get a fearful snub
+from Lady Mabel." She covered her face with her hands. "I can think of
+nothing else&mdash;I can't forget it," she said. "He will never get over it.
+He was never in love before in all his life."</p>
+
+<p>"Won't his pride help him? I would do anything&mdash;anything," said Hilda,
+with vehemence, "sooner than let her see I was heart-broken.... I
+suppose she will marry Mr. Percivale."</p>
+
+<p>"Or Mr. Cranmer," suggested Jac, in an off-hand way. "That is what Lady
+Mabel intends, I should think."</p>
+
+<p>Wynifred winced painfully. It seemed as though Osmond's case were thrust
+before her eyes as a warning of what she had to expect. It braced&mdash;it
+nerved her to the approaching struggle. She would never be sick of love;
+and she determined boldly to face the sleepless night which she knew
+awaited her&mdash;to work hard, go to parties, anything, everything which
+might serve as an antidote to the poison she had imbibed that fatal
+summer.</p>
+
+<p>When at last the girls separated for the night, Osmond was still in his
+studio. It was not till six o'clock had struck that Wyn's wakeful ears
+heard his footstep on the stairs, and the latch of his bed-room door
+close quietly.</p>
+
+<p>Jac's prophecy was fulfilled. A few days brought an invitation to
+Wynifred from Lady Mabel to meet a few friends at dinner in Bruton
+Street. No mention was made in the note of either Osmond or the girls.</p>
+
+<p>"I shall not go!" cried Wyn, fiercely.</p>
+
+<p>"Wyn, my dear child, listen to me," said Hilda, with authority. "You
+<i>must</i> go. Beggars musn't be choosers. Look here what she says&mdash;'to meet
+several people who may be of use to you.' Oh, my dear child, you have
+published one successful novel, but your fortune is not made yet, is it?
+Think of poor old Osmond&mdash;think how important it is that we should all
+do the best we can for ourselves. In my opinion you ought to go. What do
+you say, Jac?"</p>
+
+<p>"I suppose you must; but I should like to let Lady Mabel know my opinion
+of her," said Jac, grudgingly.</p>
+
+<p>"Be just," urged Hilda. "Lady Mabel very likely thinks that to take us
+out of our sphere and to plant us in hers for a few hours would be to
+unfit us for our work. I believe she is right. What good would it do us
+to sit at her table and talk to men who would only tolerate us because
+we were her guests? Answer me that."</p>
+
+<p>Jac said nothing.</p>
+
+<p>"You see I am right," went on Hilda, triumphing. "She merely thinks, as
+Aunt Anna does, that we had better remain in our humble station; and it
+would be simple cruelty of her to invite Osmond under existing
+circumstances. It would be tantamount to giving him encouragement, would
+it not?"</p>
+
+<p>Osmond himself, somewhat to his sister's surprise, when he heard of the
+invitation, was most anxious that she should accept it. It seemed as if
+anything which brought the two families together, however indirectly,
+was pleasant to him. On the subject of himself and Elsa he, however,
+quite declined to talk; and this reserve of his was to Wyn a dangerous
+symptom. However, he was very quiet, and had not yet made the suggestion
+his sisters dreaded, namely, that one of them should go with him to call
+on Lady Mabel.</p>
+
+<p>Sometimes Wyn almost hoped that he had realised the futility of his
+desires, since Elsa would not be twenty-one till the following
+Christmas, and it was madness to suppose that Mr. Percivale would not
+press his suit before then. Sometimes she dreaded that, as we say of
+children, he was quiet because he was in mischief&mdash;in other words, that
+he was corresponding with Elsa, or otherwise intriguing; though this was
+not like Osmond.</p>
+
+<p>With surmises she was forced to rest content, however. The invitation to
+dinner was accepted, and then came wretched days of hesitation and
+cowardice&mdash;days when she endured continual fluctuations of feeling, at
+one moment feeling as though all her future hung on that dinner-party,
+at another that nothing should induce her to go when the time came.</p>
+
+<p>She had not, however, very much leisure for reflection just at this
+period. One of the monthly magazines wrote to ask a serial story from
+her on very short notice, and she was obliged to devote her attention to
+the expansion and completion of an unfinished fragment for which, before
+the appearance of "Cicely Montfort," she had tried to find a publisher
+in vain. On the third day after the Miles' ball, as she returned from a
+walk, she found Claud's card in the hall. After the first moment of keen
+disappointment, she was glad that she had not seen him.</p>
+
+<p>What use to feed a flame she was bent on smothering?</p>
+
+<p>She learned from Sal that the visitor had been into the studio and seen
+Mr. Osmond, and to the studio she accordingly bent her steps. Osmond was
+not working. He was seated on the edge of the "throne," his palette and
+brushes idle beside him, his face hidden in his hands. At the sound of
+the opening door, he leaped to his feet, and faced his sister half
+angrily.</p>
+
+<p>"You startled me," said he.</p>
+
+<p>"I am sorry. I hear you had a visitor to-day, so I came to know what he
+said."</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, yes&mdash;Cranmer. He didn't say very much. Asked after you all; said he
+hoped you were not very tired after the dance; said he was looking
+forward to seeing you at his sister's. Not much besides. He seems very
+thick with this Mr. Percivale."</p>
+
+<p>Turning aside, he aimlessly took up a dry brush and drew it across a
+finished canvas in slow sweeps.</p>
+
+<p>"Wyn," he asked, "who <i>is</i> this Mr. Percivale?"</p>
+
+<p>Wyn made a gesture of ignorance with her hands.</p>
+
+<p>"I don't know," she said. "Nobody knows much about him. Mr. Cranmer told
+me all he knows the other evening." She related the meagre facts which
+Claud had given her. "But everyone seems agreed that he is very much all
+that can be wished," said she. "What made you ask me, dear?"</p>
+
+<p>"I have been talking to Ottilie Orton," he said; and paused.</p>
+
+<p>"To Mrs. Orton! And what had she to say, if one may ask?"</p>
+
+<p>"You appear," observed Osmond, "to have taken a dislike to the lady in
+question."</p>
+
+<p>"Well, I cannot say she fascinates me. She is so big and bold, and she
+looks artificial. She reminds me of that dreadful middle-aged Miss
+Walters who married the small, shy young curate of St. Mary's."</p>
+
+<p>"She is a very handsome woman," said Osmond obstinately.</p>
+
+<p>"Well, never mind her looks. What has she been saying to you?"</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, she merely remarked," was the reply, as Osmond picked up his
+palette and charged a clean brush with color. "She merely made a remark
+about this Mr. Percivale whom everyone is so ready to take for granted."</p>
+
+<p>"What was the remark?"</p>
+
+<p>"She said there were several ugly stories afloat about him, and that&mdash;"
+he paused to put a deliberate touch upon his almost completely finished
+picture&mdash;"that his antecedents were most questionable."</p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<h2>CHAPTER XXXIX.</h2>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i12">Love is a virtue for heroes&mdash;as white as the snow on high hills,<br /></span>
+<span class="i12">And immortal, as every great soul is, that straggles, endures, and fulfils.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i24"><i>Lord Walter's Wife.</i><br /></span>
+</div></div>
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+
+<p>A long, dark, panelled room, with a low flat ceiling carved with
+coats-of-arms and traversed with fantastic ribs. A room so large and
+long that a small party could only inhabit one end of it. Its age was
+demonstrated by the massive stone mullions of the small windows ranged
+along the wall on one side. There were four of these windows, each of
+them with three lights. Beneath each group of three was a deep,
+cushioned recess.</p>
+
+<p>Opposite the windows were two fireplaces, the elaborately-carved black
+oak mantels reaching to the ceiling. In the further of these a great
+fire burned red and glowing, flinging out weird, suggestive half lights
+into the dim recesses of the chamber, and flecking with sudden gleams
+the multitude of curious things with which every corner was stored.</p>
+
+<p>The room was very still, the air heavy with the scent of flowers; the
+early January darkness had fallen over the great city, but something
+very unlike London was in the warm, fragrant silence of this place. One
+of the diamond-paned casements was open, but through it came no hoarse
+rumble of cart or waggon. An utter peace enfolded everything. Presently
+the door at the near and most densely dark end of the room opened and
+closed softly. From behind the great embossed screen which was folded
+round the entrance a flash of vivid light gleamed. A man-servant
+emerged, carrying a large silver lamp. He traversed the whole length of
+the room, and set down the lamp on a black oak table with heavy
+claw-feet.</p>
+
+<p>The circle of radiance illuminated the scene, rendering visible the
+mellow oil-paintings on the panelled walls, the rich Oriental rugs which
+covered the floor of inlaid wood, and the treasures from all parts of
+the globe, which were ranged in cabinets or on shelves, or lay about on
+brackets and tables. A grand piano stood open not far from the fire, and
+beyond the groups of windows, in the corner, a curtain looped back over
+a small arched entrance looked darkly mysterious, till the servant
+carried in two small lamps and set them down, revealing a fine
+conservatory, and accounting for the garden-like fragrance of the place.</p>
+
+<p>Silently the man moved to and fro arranging various lights, daintily
+shaded according to the present fashion; then, stepping to the windows,
+he closed them, and noiselessly let fall wide curtains of Titian-like
+brocades shot with golden threads.</p>
+
+<p>This accomplished, the general aspect of the lighted end of the room was
+that of sumptuous elegance, warmth, and comfort; while the shadows
+slowly deepening, as you gazed down towards the door, left the dark
+limits indefinite, and conveyed an idea of mysterious distance and
+gloom.</p>
+
+<p>Just as the servant's arrangements were completed, a bell sounded, and
+he hastily left the room as he had entered it, leaving once more silence
+behind him. So still was it that, when the shrill notes of the dainty
+sunflower clock on the Louis Quatorze escritoire rang out the hour in
+musical chimes, it seemed to startle the Dying Gladiator as his white
+marble limbs drooped in the rosy radiance of the big standard lamp.</p>
+
+<p>Again that door opened, away there among the shadows; and slowly up the
+room, in evening dress, with his crush hat, and his inevitable
+Neapolitan violets, came Claud Cranmer, looking about him, as if he
+expected to see the master of this romance-like domain. Percivale was
+not there, however; so, with a sigh of pleasure, Claud sank down in one
+of the chairs set invitingly near the wide hearth, and leaned back
+contentedly.</p>
+
+<p>Apparently, however, solitude and firelight suggested serious thoughts,
+for gradually a far-off look came into the young man's eyes&mdash;a tender
+light which seemed to show that the object of his meditations was some
+person or thing lying very near his heart. Presently he leaned forward,
+joining his hands and resting his chin upon them; and was so completely
+absorbed that he did not hear Percivale, who, advancing through the
+conservatory, paused on the threshold, gazing at his visitor with a
+smile.</p>
+
+<p>Reaching out for a spike of geranium bloom, he threw it with such exact
+aim that it struck Claud on the face, startling him so that he sprang
+instantly to his feet, and, facing about, caught sight of the laughing
+face of his assailant.</p>
+
+<p>"Good shot," said Percivale, coming in. "Sorry to keep you waiting, old
+man."</p>
+
+<p>His hands were full of lilies of the valley, which he laid down on a
+small table, and then saluted his guest.</p>
+
+<p>"You told me to come early," said Claud.</p>
+
+<p>"Yes," was the answer. "I wanted to have a talk with you before the
+ladies arrived."</p>
+
+<p>"Delighted. What do you want to talk about?" asked Mr. Cranmer, as the
+two young men settled themselves in comfort.</p>
+
+<p>"It is a subject I have never touched upon before," said Percivale,
+hesitatingly. "Not to you or any man. I hardly know why I should expect
+that you should listen. I have no claim on your attention. I want to
+talk about&mdash;myself."</p>
+
+<p>"Yourself?" Claud set up with keenly awakened interest.</p>
+
+<p>"Myself. It is not an interesting topic...."</p>
+
+<p>Breaking off, he leaned forward, supporting his chin on his left hand as
+he stared at the fire. Little flames sprang up from the red mass, cast
+flickering lights on his serious face, and glowed in his dark blue eyes.
+Claud thought he had never seen so interesting a man in his life.
+Whether on board the <i>Swan</i>, in his white shirt and crimson sash, or
+here in these quaint London rooms of his, in modern Philistine
+dress-clothes, he seemed equally at home, yet equally distinguished.</p>
+
+<p>Mr. Cranmer waited for what he would say&mdash;he would not break in upon his
+meditations.</p>
+
+<p>"Have you ever," slowly he spoke at last, "have you ever given your
+really serious attention to the subject of marriage? I mean, in the
+abstract?"</p>
+
+<p>Claud started, tossed his head combatively, while an eager light broke
+over his face.</p>
+
+<p>"Yes, I have," he replied, quickly. "I have considered very few things
+in my life, but this I have seriously thought over."</p>
+
+<p>"I am glad," said Percivale, simply. "I want to know how you regard it.
+What place ought marriage to take in a man's life? Is it an episode?
+Ought it to be left to chance? Or is it a thing to be deliberately
+striven and planned for as the completion of one's existence? Is
+happiness possible for an unmarried man?&mdash;I mean, of course, happiness
+in its deepest and fullest sense? Can a man whose experience of life is
+partial and imperfect, as a single man's must be&mdash;can he be said to be a
+judge at all, not having tried it in its most important aspect? What do
+you think?"</p>
+
+<p>"I do wish," said Claud, in an irritable voice, "that you would not put
+your question in that way. I wish you would not follow the example of
+people who talk of marriage in such an absurdly generic way, as if it
+were a fixed state, a thing in which the symptoms must be the same in
+every case, like measles or scarlet fever. I have always thought the
+subject of marriage left remarkably little room for generalising. One
+marriage is no more like another than one man is like another. The Jones
+marriage differs essentially from the Smith, because they are the Jones,
+and the Smiths are the Smiths. Yet people will be absurd enough to argue
+that because Jones is unhappy Smith had better not try matrimony. If he
+were going to marry the same woman there might be a show of reason in
+such an argument; but even then it wouldn't follow, because he is not
+the same man."</p>
+
+<p>Percivale's eyes were fixed on the speaker.</p>
+
+<p>"I see," he said, reflectively. "Your view is that the individual side
+of our nature is the side which determines the success or failure of
+marriage."</p>
+
+<p>"Certainly&mdash;especially in this age of detail. In the Middle Ages, when
+life was shorter, people took broader views; and, besides, they had no
+nerves. Any woman who was young and anything short of repulsive as to
+her appearance would suit your feudal baron, who would perhaps only
+enjoy her society for a few weeks in the intervals of following the duke
+to the wars, or despoiling his neighbor's frontier. When they did meet,
+it was among a host of servants, men-at-arms, poor relations, minstrels
+and retainers; they had no scope for boring each other. A man's value
+was enhanced in his wife's eyes when it was always an open question, as
+she bade him adieu, whether they ever met again in this world.
+Moreover, in those days the protection of a husband was absolutely
+necessary to a woman. Left a widow, she became, if poor, a prey for the
+vicious&mdash;if rich, for the designing. Eccentricities of temper must have
+been kept wonderfully in the background, when issues like these were
+almost always at stake; the broad sympathies of humanity are, generally
+speaking, the same. Any woman and man will be in unison on a question of
+life or death; but now-a-days how different! Maid, wife, or widow can
+inhabit a flat in South Kensington without any need of a male protector
+to "act the husband's coat and hat set up to drive the world-crows off
+from pecking in her garden"&mdash;which Romney Leigh conceived to be one,
+though the lowest, of a husband's duties. And your choice of a woman
+becomes narrowed when one cannot live in London, another will not
+emigrate, a third differs from you in politics, a fourth disdains all
+social duties, a fifth can only sit under a particular preacher, and yet
+another dare not be out of reach of her family doctor. Times are
+changed, sir. Marriage to-day depends on the individual."</p>
+
+<p>"Of course it must, to a large extent; and, to meet the requirements of
+the age, women are now allowed to marry where they fancy, and not where
+they are commanded. Yet, as one looks around at the marriages one
+knows," continued Percivale, "there is a sameness about matrimony."</p>
+
+<p>"Just so," broke in Claud, eagerly. "Because, as we look round, we see
+only the outside life. There is a sameness about the houses in London
+streets; but strip away the wall, and what a difference you will find in
+each! I will find you points of likeness between Rome and Manchester.
+Both are cities, both have houses, streets, shops, churches, passers-by,
+palaces, hovels. So with Jones and Smith. Both are married, both have
+servants, children, houses, bills, all the usual attributes of marriage.
+Yet you might bet with certainty that the general atmosphere of Jones'
+life is no more like Smith's than the air of Rome resembles the air of
+Manchester. It makes me quite angry," went on the young man, with heat,
+"to hear fools say with a smile of some young bridegroom, 'He thinks his
+marriage is going to turn out a different affair from anyone else's.' If
+he does think so, he is perfectly right. It <i>will</i> be different. He
+will have an experience all his own; but it will give him no right at
+all to generalize afterwards on the advantages or disadvantages of
+marriage in the abstract&mdash;there is no such thing as marriage in the
+abstract!"</p>
+
+<p>"You take it to heart," said Percivale, smiling at his earnestness.</p>
+
+<p>"I do. Such balderdash is talked now-a-days about it. As if you could
+make a code of regulations to suit everyone&mdash;the infinitely varying
+temperaments of nineteenth-century English people!"</p>
+
+<p>"Yet we find one code of laws, broadly speaking, enough to govern all
+these infinite varieties."</p>
+
+<p>"Precisely! Their outer lives. But happiness in marriage does seem to me
+to be such a purely esoteric thing. 'It's folly,' says some one, 'to
+marry on a small income.' I hold that no one has the least right to lay
+down any such thing as a general proposition. It may be the height of
+folly&mdash;it may be the most sensible thing in the world. Nobody can
+pronounce, unless they know both the parties who contemplate the step.
+It seems to me that, granted only the right man and woman come together,
+the spring of happiness is from within. I can believe in an ideal
+marriage&mdash;I can fancy starvation with one woman preferable to a stalled
+ox with any other; but it must be one woman"&mdash;again that most unwonted
+softness in his eyes&mdash;"a woman who shall never disappoint me, though she
+might sometimes vex me; who shall be as faulty as she pleases, but never
+base; and then&mdash;then&mdash;'I'll give up my heart to my lady's keeping,'
+indeed, and the stars shall fall and the angels be weeping ere I cease
+to love her:&mdash;a woman, mind you, an imperfect, one-sided, human thing
+like myself!&mdash;no abstraction, but just what I wanted to complete me&mdash;the
+rest of me, as it were, placed by God in the world, for me to seek out
+and find."</p>
+
+<p>There was a complete silence in the room after this outburst. Claud,
+half-ashamed of his spontaneous Irish burst of sentiment, stared into
+the fire assiduously. Percivale's hand was over his eyes. At last he
+said,</p>
+
+<p>"You and I think much alike; and yet&mdash;&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>"Yet?"</p>
+
+<p>"You want to bring your love out into the broad daylight of common life;
+you want to yoke her with yourself, to bear half the burden. For me, I
+think I would place mine above&mdash;I would stand always between her and the
+daily fret&mdash;she should be to me what Beatrice was to Dante: the vision
+of all perfection."</p>
+
+<p>"You must not marry her, then," said Claud, bluntly.</p>
+
+<p>"Not marry her?"</p>
+
+<p>"No woman living would stand such a test. Think what marriage means!
+Daily life together. Your Beatrice would be obliged to come down from
+her pedestal. Not even your wealth could shield her from some thorns and
+briars; and then, when you found a mere woman with a little temper of
+her own instead of a goddess, you would be disillusioned."</p>
+
+<p>After another pause&mdash;</p>
+
+<p>"I don't agree with you," said Percivale. "I would make life such a
+paradise for the woman I loved that she should lead an ideal life&mdash;my
+experience will be, as you say, solitary. Perhaps other men's marriages
+will never be as mine shall. I speak with confidence, you see;
+because"&mdash;he rose, and stood against the mantel-piece, his head resting
+on his hand&mdash;"because I have seen the realization of my fancy. It is a
+real woman I worship, and no dream."</p>
+
+<p>Claud raised his eyes, earnestly regarding the fine, enthusiastic face.</p>
+
+<p>"The lady in question is greatly to be envied on most grounds," he said.
+"I only trust she will be able to act up to the standard of your
+requirements."</p>
+
+<p>"My requirements? What do I require of her? Only her love! She shall
+have no trials, no vexations, no more loneliness, no more neglect&mdash;if
+only she will let me, I will make her happy!&mdash;--"</p>
+
+<p>"In point of fact," said Claud very seriously, "you ask of her just what
+God asks of men&mdash;an undivided allegiance, a perfect faith in the wisdom
+of your motives, and a resignation of herself into your hands. You ask
+no positive virtues in her&mdash;only that she shall love you fervently; in
+return for which you promise her a ceaseless, tender care, and boundless
+happiness. It does not sound difficult; yet human beings seem to find it
+amazingly so; and your beloved is unfortunately human. You see one does
+not realize at first what love implies. No love is perfect without
+self-denial&mdash;&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>"I require no self denial," cried Percivale.</p>
+
+<p>"I tell you no two people can live together without it."</p>
+
+<p>"I am going to try, nevertheless. When I have been married a year and a
+day, you shall own that I have illustrated your theory, and had an
+experience all my own!"</p>
+
+<p>"Agreed," was the answer, as the honest gray eyes dwelt on the dark-blue
+ones with an affection which seemed tinged with a faint regret. "But
+will you bear to confess failure if&mdash;if by chance failure it should be?"</p>
+
+<p>"There is no question of failure," was the serenely confident answer,
+"always provided I attain the desire of my soul. But we have strayed
+wide of the mark in this interesting discussion. What I really wanted to
+consult you about was&mdash;was the difficulty of mine." He lapsed into
+thought for some minutes, and seemed to be nerving himself to speak.</p>
+
+<p>"I wonder," he said at last, "if it really is a difficulty, or whether I
+have been making mountains out of mole-hills. Or, perhaps, on the other
+hand, I have not considered it enough, and it may form a serious
+obstacle...."</p>
+
+<p>Claud's attention was now thoroughly aroused.</p>
+
+<p>"It is&mdash;it is&mdash;" went on Percivale faltering, "it is a family secret&mdash;of
+course I need not ask you to consider this conversation as strictly
+private?"</p>
+
+<p>"Of course&mdash;of course," said Claud, hastily.</p>
+
+<p>"Well&mdash;it is a secret&mdash;a secret connected with my&mdash;father." It seemed a
+great effort for him even to say this much. "I never opened my lips on
+this subject to any human being before;" he spoke nervously.</p>
+
+<p>"Don't say any more, if you had rather not," urged Claud, gently.</p>
+
+<p>"I want to tell you, and I may as well do it quickly. Percivale was my
+father's christian, not his sur-name. The sur-name was one which you
+would know well enough were I to mention it&mdash;it was notorious through
+most parts of Europe. That name was coupled with undeserved disgrace;"
+he paused a moment, to strengthen his voice, then resumed:</p>
+
+<p>"I entreat you to believe that the disgrace was utterly undeserved. It
+broke his heart. He went abroad with my poor young mother; they buried
+themselves in a small, remote German village. There he died; and she
+followed him when I was born. It was believed that he committed
+suicide: that was also untrue; he was murdered, lest the truth should
+come to light. I heard all this from Dr. Wells, a clergyman who had been
+my father's tutor. He was a real friend&mdash;the only man to whom my father
+appealed in his trouble. At my birth, he took me to Schwannberg, the
+Castle of which my mother was heiress. She was an orphan when my father
+married her&mdash;twenty years younger than himself. Dr. Wells alone knew all
+the exact details of the whole affair. He made a statement in writing,
+which is in my possession, setting forth his knowledge of my father's
+blameless conduct and the manner of his death. I could not show you this
+paper without your knowing my father's name&mdash;and that, I hope, is not at
+present necessary. Now, to come to the point. I have always used the
+name of Percivale, because it was my mother's most earnest entreaty on
+her deathbed, that, if I lived to grow up, I should do so. I have not a
+relation living, so far as I know. Do you think that I should be
+justified in marrying without mentioning what I have told you? Should I
+do anyone any wrong by leaving the story untold? You will see that to
+half-tell it, as I have just done, would be impossible. I should have to
+mention names; and&mdash;and&mdash;&mdash;" he dropped into a chair, covering his face
+with his hands.</p>
+
+<p>"Dr. Wells was father and mother both to me," he said. "When his health
+failed, I had the <i>Swan</i> built that his life might be prolonged. He
+liked to roam from place to place in the strong sea-air. I think it did
+serve to keep him with me for some time. When I lost him there was no
+one.... He made me promise him to respect my mother's wish, and keep the
+name by which my father had been known a profound secret. The reasons
+for this are partly political. I think he was right, but I find that,
+from having lived so little in the world, I do not always think as
+others do; so I determined to consult you. Do you see any reason to drag
+this Cerberus to the light of day? or should you let it alone?"</p>
+
+<p>Claud sat plunged in thought.</p>
+
+<p>"There is no possibility of its ever getting about unless you mention
+it?" said he at last.</p>
+
+<p>"None, so far as I can see. Even old M�ller, on my yacht, who was a
+servant in the house when my mother died, does not know of my father's
+changed name nor false accusation. No one in England of those who knew
+him under his own name knew of his marriage, still less that he had left
+a son. I have exercised the minds of all London for the past seven
+years, but nobody has ever guessed at anything dimly resembling the
+truth. Were I to proclaim aloud in society that I was the son of such a
+one, nobody would believe me. The secret is not a shameful one. Were I
+the son of a criminal, I would ask the hand of no woman without telling
+her friends of my case; but my father was a gentleman of high birth and
+stainless honor. May I not respect the silence he wished observed as to
+his name?"</p>
+
+<p>"I think so," said Claud, with decision. "I should not even hint at
+there being a mystery surrounding your parentage."</p>
+
+<p>"Naturally not. I must tell all or nothing."</p>
+
+<p>"Then I should tell nothing. I see no reason why you should. Your
+father's secret is your own; I would not blazon it to the world."</p>
+
+<p>"That is your deliberate opinion?"</p>
+
+<p>"Certainly&mdash;my deliberate opinion. I am honored, Percivale, that you
+have trusted me so generously."</p>
+
+<p>"I knew you were to be trusted," said Percivale, simply; then, turning
+his face fully towards him with a fine smile, he added&mdash;"I shall, of
+course, tell my wife the whole story when we are married."</p>
+
+<p>"What, names and all?" said Claud anxiously.</p>
+
+<p>"Names and all. I will marry no woman unless I feel that I can safely
+lay my life and honor in her hands."</p>
+
+<p>Claud had no reply to make; in the silence which followed, the door at
+the obscure end of the room opened, and the servant, advancing to the
+borders of the lamplight, announced,</p>
+
+<p>"Lady Mabel Wynch-Fr�re and Miss Brabourne."</p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<h2>CHAPTER XL.</h2>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i12">Beat, happy stars, timing with things below,<br /></span>
+<span class="i12">Beat with my heart, more blest than heart can tell,<br /></span>
+<span class="i12">Blest, but for some dark undercurrent woe<br /></span>
+<span class="i12">That seems to draw&mdash;but it shall not be so:<br /></span>
+<span class="i12">Let all be well, be well.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i24"><i>Maud.</i><br /></span>
+</div></div>
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+
+<p>"Dinner at once, Fritz," said Percivale to his servant, as he advanced
+to meet his guests.</p>
+
+<p>"Are we late?" cried Lady Mabel, as she swept her silken skirts up the
+long room, and greeted her host with extended hand. "It must be Elsa's
+fault, then&mdash;she was so long dressing."</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, Lady Mabel!" cried Elsa, in lovely confusion, as she came forward
+in her turn.</p>
+
+<p>She was in black to-night&mdash;some delicate, clinging, semi-transparent
+material, arranged in wonderful folds, with gleams of brightness here
+and there. It caused her neck and arms to seem a miracle of fairness;
+the arrangement of her golden hair was perfect, a diamond arrow being
+stuck through its masses.</p>
+
+<p>To the chivalrous poetic mind of her lover, she was a dream of beauty&mdash;a
+thing hardly mortal&mdash;so transfused with soul and spirit, that no thought
+of the mundane or the commonplace could intrude into his thoughts of
+her.</p>
+
+<p>Disillusioned! Could any man ever be disillusioned who had the depths of
+those lake-like eyes to gaze into?</p>
+
+<p>She gave him her little hand&mdash;<i>bien gant�e</i>&mdash;and lifted those eyes to
+his. Lady Mabel had passed on to speak to her brother.</p>
+
+<p>"I have no flowers," said Elsa, softly "you told me not to wear any."</p>
+
+<p>"I wished you to wear mine, will you?" said Percivale.</p>
+
+<p>Her eyelids fell before his eager glance: but she made a little movement
+of assent.</p>
+
+<p>He turned to the table, and taking up the fragrant bouquet of lillies,
+placed it in her hands; then lifting another of mixed flowers, which lay
+beside it, he offered it to Lady Mabel, with an entreaty that she would
+honor him by carrying it that night.</p>
+
+<p>As he spoke, a pair of dark curtains, which hung at the upper end of the
+room, were drawn back by two men in livery; and Fritz, appearing in the
+aperture, solemnly announced,</p>
+
+<p>"Dinner is served."</p>
+
+<p>Percivale offered Lady Mabel his arm, and led her through the archway,
+followed by Claud and Elsa.</p>
+
+<p>"Claud, will you take the foot of the table for me?" said he.</p>
+
+<p>"Which do you call the foot?" laughed Claud, as he sat down opposite his
+host at the daintily appointed round table.</p>
+
+<p>The room was very much smaller than that they had quitted, but was quite
+a study in its way. Vanbrugh had designed the ceiling and carvings, and
+a fine selection of paintings adorned the walls. A beautiful Procaccini
+was let into the wall above the mantelpiece; a Sasso Ferrato was
+opposite. Two Ruysdaels lent the glamor of their deep gloomy wood and
+sky, and the foam of their magic waterfalls. The whole room was lit with
+wax candles, and fragrant with the violets which composed the table
+decorations.</p>
+
+<p>"I am so sorry to seem to hurry you," said Percivale, apologetically;
+"but I want Miss Brabourne to hear the overture; one ought not to miss
+the overture to 'Lohengrin,' though I find it is the fashion in England
+to saunter in in the middle of the first act."</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, dear, yes; but we don't go to the opera to hear music in England,"
+laughed Lady Mabel. "It is to see the new <i>prima donna</i>, or study the
+costumes of the ladies in the stalls."</p>
+
+<p>"I should have no objection, if these laudable objects could be attained
+without spoiling the pleasure of those who are sufficiently out of date
+to wish to listen to the performance," replied Percivale. "It is the one
+thing in England which I cannot bear with temper! It would not be
+allowed in Germany."</p>
+
+<p>"Germany is the land of the leal for those that love music."</p>
+
+<p>"Yes, indeed; there one can let oneself go, in utter enjoyment, knowing
+that there can be no onslaught of large and massive Philistine, sweeping
+her ample wraps, kicking your toes, struggling across your knees,
+banging down the seat of her stall with a report that eclipses and blots
+out a dozen delicate chords. No loudly whispered comments, no breathless
+pantings are audible, no wrestling with contumacious hooks and clasps
+sets your teeth on edge. For the unmusical and vociferous British
+female, if she have arrived late, will be forcibly detained at the door
+till the first act is over, and even then will enter despoiled of most
+of her weapons for creating a disturbance, having been forced to leave
+her superfluous clothing in the <i>garde-robe</i>."</p>
+
+<p>They had never seen Percivale so gay, nor so full of talk. He chatted on
+about one subject and another, addressing himself mostly to Lady Mabel,
+whilst Claud was constrained to listen, since Elsa was even more silent
+than her wont.</p>
+
+<p>The dinner was excellently cooked and served.</p>
+
+<p>"You are a perfect Count of Monte Cristo, Percivale," laughed Claud. "I
+feel myself waiting for the crowning point of the entertainment. Will
+not your slaves presently bring in a living fish, brought from Russia in
+salt water to die on the table? Shall we each find a Koh-i-noor diamond
+in our finger-bowl as a slight mark of your esteem? Or, at a given
+signal, shall we be buried in a shower of rose-leaves like the guests of
+Heliogabalus!"</p>
+
+<p>Percivale laughed, and reddened.</p>
+
+<p>"Sorry to disappoint you, but I have prepared no conjuring tricks
+to-night," he said. "Another time, perhaps, when we have more leisure.
+Lady Mabel, you must not judge of the entertainment I like to offer my
+guests from this hurried little meal; you will do me the honor to return
+here after the opera, and have some supper? I am afraid we have no time
+to lose now."</p>
+
+<p>"Mabel neither eats anything herself nor thinks that other people ought
+to," complained Claud. "I suffer a daily martyrdom in her house, and I
+am sure I begin to perceive signs of inanition in Miss Brabourne. You
+see, it demoralises the cook. She thinks that to live on air is the
+peculiarity of the upper ten, and wants me to dine on a cutlet the size
+of half-a-crown with a tomato on the top, followed by the leg of a
+quail."</p>
+
+<p>"How can you, sir?" cried Lady Mabel, in mock indignation, shaking her
+fist at her brother.</p>
+
+<p>"I tell you it's the literal truth; that is the real reason why poor
+Edward is wintering abroad. He cannot reduce his appetite to the
+required pitch of elegance."</p>
+
+<p>"If elegance consists in eating nothing, Mr. Percivale may take the
+prize to-night," observed Lady Mabel, significantly, as she and Elsa
+rose from table.</p>
+
+<p>"I&mdash;have not much appetite to-night," stammered the young man, in some
+confusion, as he started up and held the curtain for the ladies to pass
+through.</p>
+
+<p>He remained standing, so, with uplifted arm, for several seconds after
+the sweep of Elsa's black skirts had died away into silence; then,
+letting the curtain drop suddenly into place, turned back and tossed his
+crushed serviette upon the table. She had been there&mdash;in these lonely
+rooms, which year by year he had heaped with treasures for the ideal
+bride who was to come. Now the fancy had taken shape&mdash;the vision was
+realised; the beautiful woman of his dreams stood before him in bodily
+form. Would she take all this treasured, stored-up love and longing
+which he was aching to cast at her feet?</p>
+
+<p>Claud broke in upon his reverie.</p>
+
+<p>"I wish you luck, Leon," said he, coming up and grasping his hand.</p>
+
+<p>His friend turned round with a brilliant smile.</p>
+
+<p>"That is a capital omen," he said, "that you should call me by my name.
+Nobody has called me by my name&mdash;for five years. Thank you, Claud."</p>
+
+<p>He returned the pressure of the hand with fervor; then, starting, said:</p>
+
+<p>"Come, get your coat, we shall be late," and hurried through the
+archway, followed by Mr. Cranmer.</p>
+
+<p>The opera-house was crowded that night. There were the German
+enthusiasts occupying all the cheap places, their scores under their
+arms, their faces beaming with anticipation; there was the fashionable
+English crowd in the most costly places, there because they supposed
+they ought to say they had heard "Lohengrin," but consoling themselves
+with the thought that they could leave if they were very much bored, and
+mildly astonished at the eccentricity of those who could persuade
+themselves that they really liked Wagner. And lastly, there were the
+excessively cultured English clique, the apostles of the music of the
+future, looking with gentle tolerance on the youthful crudities of
+"Lohengrin," and sitting through it only because they could not have
+"Siegfried" or the "G�tterd�mmerung."</p>
+
+<p>A very languid clapping greeted the conductor of the orchestra as he
+took his seat. Percivale, watching Elsa, saw her eyes dilated, her whole
+being poised in anticipation of the first note, as the <i>b�ton</i> was
+slowly raised. There was a soft shudder of violins&mdash;a delicate agony of
+sound vibrated along the nerves. Can any operatic writer ever hope to
+surpass that first slow sweep of suggestive harmony? From the moment
+when the overture began, Percivale's beloved sat rapt.</p>
+
+<p>The curtain rose on the barbaric crowd&mdash;the dramatic action of the opera
+began. At the appearance of her namesake, the falsely accused Elsa of
+Brabant, a storm of feeling agitated the modern Elsa as she gazed.</p>
+
+<p>At last she could keep silence no longer. Turning up her face to
+Percivale's, who sat next her:</p>
+
+<p>"Oh," she whispered, "it is like me&mdash;and you came, like Lohengrin, to
+save me."</p>
+
+<p>He smiled into her eyes.</p>
+
+<p>"Nay," he said, "I am no immortal or miraculous champion; you will not
+induce me to depart as easily as he did. Besides, I do not think he was
+right&mdash;he demanded too much of his Elsa&mdash;more than any woman was capable
+of. You will see what I mean, when the next act begins."</p>
+
+<p>To these two, as they sat together&mdash;so near&mdash;almost hand-in-hand, the
+music was fraught with an exquisite depth of meaning which it could not
+bear to other ears.</p>
+
+<p>As the notes of the distant organ broke through the orchestra, and
+rolled sonorous from the cathedral doors, it was like a foreshadowing to
+Percivale of his own future happiness.</p>
+
+<p>And when, in the twilight of their chamber, Lohengrin and Elsa were left
+alone, and the mysterious thrilling melody of the wonderful love-duet
+was flooding the air, unconsciously the hand of the listening girl fell
+into that of her lover, and so they sat, recking nothing of the
+significance of the action, until the curtain fell.</p>
+
+<p>"Now you will see," spoke Percivale, softly, "that Lohengrin did what I
+could not do; he left his&mdash;Elsa."</p>
+
+<p>She did not answer; she could not. Ashamed of her late action, and with
+a tumult of strange new feelings stirring in her heart, she turned her
+head away from him, and would not speak again until the end of the
+opera.</p>
+
+<p>"I want to offer an apology," said Percivale to Lady Mabel, as he
+arranged her cloak. "Will you condescend to drive back in a hansom? My
+coachman has rheumatism, and I told him he was not to come for us."</p>
+
+<p>"Certainly. I have a great partiality for hansoms," answered Lady Mabel,
+readily; she was rather disconcerted, however, a moment later, to find
+that it was her brother who was at her elbow.</p>
+
+<p>"Where is Elsa? Claud, you should have taken her," she said, rather
+irritably.</p>
+
+<p>"I? Thanks, no. I don't care to force my company on a young lady who
+would rather be with the other fellow. No hurry, Mab. I want to light a
+cigar."</p>
+
+<p>"Nonsense, Claud. Get me a cab at once. Am I to wait in this draughty
+place?"</p>
+
+<p>"You must, unless you are prepared to walk in those shoes as far as the
+end of the street."</p>
+
+<p>"But where are the other two? Are they behind?"</p>
+
+<p>"No; got the start of us, I fancy," said Claud, with exasperating
+calmness. "Wait a moment. I will go out and catch a cab if you will stay
+here."</p>
+
+<p>He vanished accordingly and his sister was constrained to wait for him.
+When at last he returned, she was almost the only lady still waiting.</p>
+
+<p>"You have no idea," said Claud, apologetically, "of the stupendous
+difficulty of finding a cab. They all say they are engaged. I feel quite
+out of the fashion, Mab; I think I ought to be engaged."</p>
+
+<p>"I'm not in a mood for nonsense, sir. I am vexed with you, and with Mr.
+Percivale, too. He could not have meant to treat me like this&mdash;he had no
+right to make off in that manner and leave me in the lurch."</p>
+
+<p>"To be left in the lurch <i>is</i> sometimes the fate of chaperones,"
+observed her brother, pensively, as he piloted her out of the theatre.
+"I am afraid you hardly counted the cost, Mab, when you offered to
+chaperone a beauty. It is hardly your <i>r�le</i>, old lady."</p>
+
+<p>This was too true to be pleasant. Lady Mabel was so accustomed to male
+admiration that she usually took it for granted that she was the
+attraction. The great influx of young men which inundated Bruton Street
+had caused her, only a few days back, to congratulate herself that her
+charms were still potent. Percivale's good looks, riches, and generally
+unusual <i>entourage</i> had led her to imagine that a platonic friendship
+with him would enliven the winter. The idea suggested by her brother's
+words was like a douche of cold water. If he were such an idiot as to be
+in love with the pretty face of the foolish Elsa&mdash;well! But he was so
+fascinating that one could not help regretting it! He was raised all of
+a sudden to a much higher value than the crowd of adorers who in general
+formed her ladyship's court. Surely he could not intend to go and tie
+himself down at his age! The thought greatly disturbed her.</p>
+
+<p>"Claud, you must throw away that cigar, and tell him to let down the
+glass&mdash;I am frozen."</p>
+
+<p>Claud complied.</p>
+
+<p>"He's going in a very queer direction," observed he, presently. "Hallo,
+friend, this is not the way to St. James's Place."</p>
+
+<p>"Thought you said St. James' Square, sir."</p>
+
+<p>"Well, I didn't; it's exactly the opposite direction, down by the
+river&mdash;&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>"Right, sir. I know it."</p>
+
+<p>"I suppose you will get there some time to-morrow morning," observed his
+sister, icily.</p>
+
+<p>"I am tearing my lungs to pieces in my efforts to do so," was the polite
+response.</p>
+
+<p>Percivale and Elsa stood together in the lamplight.</p>
+
+<p>Thanks to Claud's kindly manoeuvres, a precious half-hour had been
+theirs. The young man's arms were round the slim form of his beloved and
+there was a look in his eyes as though, to him, life had indeed become
+the "perfumed altar-flame" to which Maud's lover likened his.</p>
+
+<p>A deep hush was over the whole place, and over his noble soul as he held
+his treasure tenderly to him.</p>
+
+<p>Presently, breaking through his rapturous dream, he led her to the
+window, and, pushing it open, they gazed down on the wide dark waters of
+the Thames, lighted by a million lamps.</p>
+
+<p>"We stand together as did Lohengrin and his Elsa," he murmured. "Oh,
+love, love, love, if I could tell you how I love you!"</p>
+
+<p>"It is sweet to be loved," said the girl. "I have never had much love,
+all my life. When first I went abroad, and began to read novels, I used
+to wonder if any such thing would ever happen to me."</p>
+
+<p>"But&mdash;but," faltered Percivale, a sudden jealous pang darting through
+his consciousness, "did not some one speak to you of love before&mdash;before
+I ever saw you, sweet?"</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, Osmond Allonby. Poor Osmond!" Leaning back against his arm she
+turned her beautiful face to his. "I did not know what love meant,
+then," she said.</p>
+
+<p>He bent his mouth to hers.</p>
+
+<p>"You know now, Elsa?"</p>
+
+<p>Even as he kissed her, a sudden unbidden memory of Claud's warning words
+rushed in and seemed just to dash the bliss of that caress.</p>
+
+<p>"You ask more than any woman can give?" No, he fiercely told himself, he
+asked of her nothing but to be just what she was. Was it her fault that
+Osmond could not look on her without loving? Most certainly not.</p>
+
+<p>Love and happiness, the two things from which this rich young man had
+been debarred, seemed all his own at last.</p>
+
+<p>Farewell to lonely cruising and aimless travels. His heart's core, his
+life's aim was found; the birthday of his life had come.</p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<h2>CHAPTER XLI.</h2>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i12">Well, you may, you must, set down to me<br /></span>
+<span class="i12">Love that was life, life that was love;<br /></span>
+<span class="i12">A tenure of breath at your lips' decree,<br /></span>
+<span class="i12">A passion to stand as your thoughts approve,<br /></span>
+<span class="i12">A rapture to fall where your foot might be.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i24"><i>James Lee's Wife.</i><br /></span>
+</div></div>
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+
+<p>"Come in," was the languid reply, as Lady Mabel knocked briskly at her
+young guest's bed-room door.</p>
+
+<p>Lady Mabel had been up for hours. If there was one thing upon which she
+prided herself, it was on being an exemplary mother. She had breakfasted
+with her little girls and their governess at eight, had seen her
+housekeeper, made arrangements for her dinner-party that night, send
+Claud out shopping for her with a lengthy list of commissions, written
+several notes, and now, trim, freshly dressed, and energetic, presented
+herself at Elsa's door to know how she felt after the fatigues of her
+first opera.</p>
+
+<p>Elsa was just out of her bed. She was lolling in a deep luxurious
+arm-chair, with all her golden hair streaming about her. Her room was in
+a state of the utmost disorder, and her French maid stood behind her
+with an expression of deep and embittered sulkiness.</p>
+
+<p>"My good child, what is the meaning of all this mess?" cried Lady Mabel,
+somewhat aghast. Miss Brabourne's habits daily set all her teeth on
+edge; though her shortcomings were probably only the natural rebound
+after the state of repression and confinement in which she had been
+brought up.</p>
+
+<p>At Edge Combe there had been no shops, and she had been allowed no
+pocket-money; consequently she now never went out for a walk without
+lavishly purchasing a hundred useless and costly trifles with which she
+strewed her room. Under the regime of the Misses Willoughby no
+untidiness had been permitted; Miss Brabourne had darned her own
+stockings and repaired her own gloves. Now she let the natural bent of
+her untidy disposition have full play, flung her things about in all
+directions, and never touched a needle. In her childhood she had been
+obliged to rise at seven, and practise calisthenics for an hour before
+breakfast. Now that this restraint was removed, she never rose to
+breakfast at all, but usually spent the entire morning dawdling about in
+her bed-room in a loose wrapper, and with her hair hanging over her
+shoulders.</p>
+
+<p>Like Lady Teazle, she was more self-indulgent, and gave far more trouble
+to her maid, than if she had been reared in habits of the greatest
+luxury. All her tastes were expensive and elegant. Dress was almost a
+mania with her, and no sooner had she been allowed to plan her own than
+she manifested a wonderfully correct taste. The rustic nymph, on whom
+Percivale's eyes had first fallen when he landed on Edge Beach, had
+entirely disappeared in the Miss Brabourne who lived only for fashion,
+admiration, and amusement.</p>
+
+<p>She knew exactly what suited her&mdash;how daring her perfect complexion and
+fine shape permitted her to be in her choice of color and style&mdash;how
+the greatest severity only showed up and enhanced her beauty the more.
+Her whole time was devoted to the planning of new toilettes; her
+lengthiest visits were to her dressmaker.</p>
+
+<p>Henry Fowler had not thought it prudent to make an exceedingly large
+allowance to a girl who had never had money to spend before; but this in
+no way circumscribed Elsa's movements, since before she had been a week
+in London she found out that unlimited credit could be hers.</p>
+
+<p>The account-books carefully prepared by Aunt Charlotte before taking
+leave of her young niece lay at the bottom of her trunk, the virgin
+whiteness of their pages unmarked by a single entry. She had come to
+London to enjoy herself, and she meant to do so. Her visit could not
+last more than a few weeks, and then she would have to go back to Edge.</p>
+
+<p>This thought was horror and misery unutterable. She loathed the place.
+Every association was hateful to her. She never wished to behold it
+again. As each day brought her nearer to the hideous prospect, her
+spirit shrank from it more and more. There was no other house in London
+where she could become a visitor, as the break with the Ortons was of
+course complete and final. And there was no hope at all of the aunts
+bringing her to town. The agitations of the past summer had greatly
+aggravated Miss Helen's weakness, and Miss Charlotte and Miss Emily had
+declared, on returning from their four months abroad, that they should
+not dare leave Fanny again in sole charge.</p>
+
+<p>The thought of living the spring and summer through mewed up in lonely
+captivity at Edge, after the intoxicating taste of life and pleasure
+which she had had, was too terrible to be borne with gratitude.</p>
+
+<p>Elsa could see no way out of the dilemma but to be married.</p>
+
+<p>But Osmond Allonby could not help her here. He could not afford to marry
+yet; and to be married at once was her aim. And now, suddenly,
+unexpectedly, dazzlingly, here was Mr. Percivale, the wonderful owner of
+the yacht, the stately gentleman, the rich, mysterious stranger,
+offering her his heart as humbly as if she had been an empress.</p>
+
+<p>The girl felt her triumph in every fibre of her nature. It had not
+occurred to her to think of Percivale as her lover.</p>
+
+<p>His stately courtesy and distant reverence had seemed to her like pride.
+He had never been openly her slave, as was Osmond, whose infatuation had
+been patent from the first moment of meeting. Her admiration for the
+hero had been always mixed with a certain fear and great shyness.</p>
+
+<p>She had heard him discussed wherever they went&mdash;here in London as well
+as all along the Mediterranean&mdash;when, wherever the yacht put in, it had
+been the cause of boundless excitement and interest, heightened to
+fever-heat when it was discovered that the solitary and mysterious owner
+had friends on board.</p>
+
+<p>She knew that he was considered one of the "catches" of society&mdash;that to
+be on intimate terms with him was the aim of some of the leaders of the
+world of fashion. Town gossip never tired of his name, and whatever it
+had to say of him had been listened to with eager ears by Elsa.</p>
+
+<p>Gossip and scandal had never been heard at Edge Willoughby; they had all
+the charm of novelty to the uninitiated girl, who absorbed the contents
+of every society journal she could get, and was far better versed in the
+latest morganatic marriage or the Court sensation than was Lady Mabel,
+who, being genuinely a woman of intelligence, usually let such trash
+alone.</p>
+
+<p>Thus were filled the blank spaces which Elsa's training had left in her
+mind. Wynifred's dictum had been perfectly accurate. Not knowing their
+niece's proclivities in the least, the Misses Willoughby had not known
+what to guard against in her education. They had regarded her as so much
+raw material, to be converted into what fabric they pleased; now, her
+natural impulses began to show themselves with untutored freedom.</p>
+
+<p>She was acutely alive to the importance of her conquest, but she was,
+let it be granted her, perfectly honest, as far as she knew, in telling
+Percivale that she loved him. She liked him very much; she admired his
+personal appearance exceedingly; she was beyond measure flattered at his
+preference; she preferred him, on every ground, to either Osmond
+Allonby, or any other man she had ever seen.</p>
+
+<p>Of what love, in its highest and deepest sense, meant&mdash;such love as
+Percivale offered her&mdash;she was intensely ignorant; but few men will
+quarrel with incomprehension, if only it be beautiful; and how beautiful
+she was! Even Lady Mabel confessed it, much as the girl irritated her,
+as she sat supine before her in the easy-chair, lightly holding a
+hand-mirror.</p>
+
+<p>"My dear Elsa, are you aware that Mr. Miles will be here in half-an-hour
+for a sitting?"</p>
+
+<p>"I know," said Elsa, in her laconic way; adding, as if by an
+after-thought. "It isn't my fault; Mathilde is so stupid this morning. I
+must have my hair properly done when Mr. Miles comes, and I have had to
+make her pull it all down twice."</p>
+
+<p>"There is no satisfying mademoiselle," muttered Mathilde.</p>
+
+<p>"Mathilde, don't be rude," said Elsa, calmly.</p>
+
+<p>Poor Mathilde! To her were doled out, day after day, all the countless
+small grudges owed to Jane Gollop by her young mistress. Like all
+oppressed humanity, when once the oppression was removed, Elsa
+tyrannised. The maid proceeded to lift the luminous flexible masses of
+threaded gold, and to pack them afresh over the top of the small head in
+artistic loops, the girl keenly watching every movement in the mirror.</p>
+
+<p>"Don't wait, please, Lady Mabel," said she, abstractedly, arranging the
+soft short locks on her brow. "I shall be down in ten minutes; I want to
+say something to you particularly."</p>
+
+<p>Lady Mabel, after a significant glance round the room, shrugged her
+shoulders, and went out.</p>
+
+<p>"Her husband need be rich," she soliloquised as she descended the
+stairs.</p>
+
+<p>Claud was seated in her morning-room, his youngest niece upon his knee.
+This fascinating person, whose age was three, was confiding to her uncle
+the somewhat unlooked-for fact that she was a policeman, and intended to
+take him that moment to prison. If he resisted, instant death must be
+his portion. Two plump white fists were clenched in his faultless
+shirt-collar, and he hailed his sister's entrance with a whoop of
+relief.</p>
+
+<p>"Just in time, Mab! My last hour had come," he cried, as he relegated
+the zealous arm of the law to the hearth-rug, stood up, and shook
+himself. "Why do children invariably select the tragedy and not the
+comedy of life for their games? I should think, Mab, for once that you
+and I assisted at a wedding we took part in a hundred executions&mdash;ay,
+leading parts, too; the bitterness of death ought to be past for us
+two."</p>
+
+<p>"Have you been taking care of this monkey?" said Mab, rubbing her face
+lovingly against his arm. "What a comfort you are to have in the house,
+dear boy; far more useful than my visitor upstairs, for instance. She is
+not handy with children, to say the least of it."</p>
+
+<p>"She has not had my long apprenticeship," returned Claud,
+good-humoredly. "Hallo, Kathleen mavourneen, I draw the line at the
+poker, young lady."</p>
+
+<p>"Baby, be good," said baby's mother, as her daughter was reluctantly
+induced to part with her weapon. "You make excuses for Elsa, Claud; why
+don't you admit that you are as much disappointed in her as I am?"</p>
+
+<p>"Because I am not at all disappointed in her. You know, after the first
+few days, she never attracted me in the least."</p>
+
+<p>"I know. I used to wonder why. Now I give you credit for much
+discrimination. She will never make a good wife."</p>
+
+<p>"I say, that is going too far, Mab. She may develop&mdash;I hope&mdash;" he
+paused, and his voice took an inflection of deep feeling&mdash;"I devoutly
+hope she may."</p>
+
+<p>"Why?"</p>
+
+<p>"Because the happiness of the best man I know is absolutely dependent on
+her."</p>
+
+<p>"Claud! He told you?"</p>
+
+<p>"Yes."</p>
+
+<p>The young man leaned his arm on the mantelpiece, fixing a meditative eye
+on his niece as she crawled up his leg.</p>
+
+<p>"Did you&mdash;did you not&mdash;dissuade him in any way?"</p>
+
+<p>"No," was the slow reply.</p>
+
+<p>"I think, Claud, if he asked for your opinion&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>"Well, he didn't&mdash;that is, not on the lady. He did not even mention her
+name. I told him that, broadly speaking, I thought everything depended
+on compatibility of disposition; but what on earth is the use, Mab, of
+cautioning a man who is head over ears in love, as he is? You might as
+well try to stop Niagara; he is beyond the reasoning stage. Besides,
+what could I urge? That I believed the lady of his choice to be selfish,
+vain, and not too sweet-tempered? I couldn't say that, you know; and of
+course he thinks he is likely to know about as much of her as I do; he
+has been with her, on and off, ever since the autumn."</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, you men, you men!" cried Mab. "Caught by a pretty face, even the
+best and noblest of you!"</p>
+
+<p>"Not I," interrupted Claud, shortly. "No! That beautiful girl upstairs
+doesn't know what it means to love as I would have my wife love me. She
+has no passion in her! And she does not know the value of love! She does
+not know that it is the one, only central force of life&mdash;the thing
+without which any lot is hard&mdash;with which any hardship is merely a
+trifle not worth noticing. How should she know the power of it, that
+flame which, once lit, burns slowly at first,&mdash;cold, perhaps, and
+faintly&mdash;for the loves that flare up at once are straw fires, they burn
+out. This that I mean grows slowly, steadily, till all the heart is one
+glowing, throbbing mass, flinging steadfast heat and radiance around.
+This is love."</p>
+
+<p>Lady Mabel's susceptible Irish eyes were wet. She had missed her life's
+aim, not through her own fault: which fact perhaps helped to make her
+brother so tender to her failings, so anxious for her happiness.</p>
+
+<p>"You speak feelingly, Claud," she said.</p>
+
+<p>"Do I?" said the young man. He lowered his eyes to the carpet, and
+blushed, smiling a little.</p>
+
+<p>"Claud!" vehemently cried his sister, "you are in love!"</p>
+
+<p>"If I am, it is with my eyes open. I am not a boy, Mab."</p>
+
+<p>"No, indeed; but who can she be. Won't you tell me, dear?"</p>
+
+<p>"I can't tell you, because I'm afraid I am in the ignoble case of loving
+without return. You see," he faltered, "there is nothing very heroic
+about me&mdash;nothing that I ever said or did, as far as I know, would
+entitle me to the slightest respect from any woman with a high standard.
+Look at my life. What have I done with it? Just nothing. Why, Kathleen
+mavourneen," cried he, diving down to the rug, and catching the warm
+white child in his arms, "the most onerous of my duties has been to
+carry you up to bed on my shoulder, hasn't it?"</p>
+
+<p>"Claud, my dear old man, you mustn't! Why, what an untold comfort you
+have been to me when Edwar&mdash;when I could not have lived but for you!"
+cried Mab, the tears splashing on her cheeks. "I envy your wife! She
+will have the most constant, loving care of any woman under heaven&mdash;you
+will be an ideal husband&mdash;the longer she is married the better she will
+learn to appreciate you!"</p>
+
+<p>"I never shall have a wife at all, Mab, if I cannot get this one," said
+Claud, with a ring of determination in his voice which was quite new.</p>
+
+<p>Lady Mabel contemplated him for a moment.</p>
+
+<p>"Is she rich, Claud?"</p>
+
+<p>"No," said he, laughing a little.</p>
+
+<p>"So I expected. Trust you never to love a rich woman. You would sit down
+and analyse your feelings till you became perfectly certain that some
+greed of gain mingled with your affection. But, my dear boy, forgive the
+pathos of the inquiry, but how should you propose to set up
+housekeeping?"</p>
+
+<p>"I should take a post&mdash;cut the Bar and take a post."</p>
+
+<p>"Charming, but who will offer the post?"</p>
+
+<p>"A friend of mine," was the mysterious reply.</p>
+
+<p>"Percivale, of course. Well, I suppose he has influence. Poor fellow! I
+could wish him to have a happier future than seems to me to lie before
+him."</p>
+
+<p>"Tell you, Mab, you take too serious a view. I will sketch his married
+career for you. The first six weeks will be bliss unutterable, because
+he will himself turn on his own rose-colored light upon everything and
+everybody, and his bride will be beautiful, amiable, and passive. Then
+will come a disillusioning, sharp and bitter. He will be most fearfully
+upset for a time, there will be a period of blank horror, of
+astonishment, of incredulity, almost of despair. Then will dawn the
+period when the bridegroom will discover that his wife is neither the
+angel he first took her for, nor the fiend she afterwards seemed, but a
+very middling, earthly young person, with youth and beauty in her favor.
+Once wide awake from the dream that was to have lasted for ever, he will
+pull himself together, and find life first tolerable, then pleasant; but
+for the remainder of his days he will never be in love with his wife
+again, even for a moment. Now in my case&mdash;&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>He had never mentioned his love before to anyone; in fact, until last
+night's talk with Percivale he had scarcely been sure of it himself. To
+use his own metaphor, his friend had stirred the smouldering hot coals,
+and they had burst into blaze at last. The earth and air were full of
+Wynifred. The end of life seemed at present to consist in the fact that
+she was coming to dine that night.</p>
+
+<p>His sister's thoughts still ran on Percivale.</p>
+
+<p>"Claud," she said, "do you really think it will be as bad as that?"</p>
+
+<p>"More or less, I am afraid so. He is a man with such a very high
+ideal&mdash;with a rectitude of purpose, a purity of motive which do not
+belong to our century. Miss Brabourne <i>must</i> disappoint him. But she is
+very young, and one can never prophesy exactly ... marriage sometimes
+alters a girl completely, and his nature is such a strong one, it must
+influence hers. I think she is a little in awe of him, which is an
+excellent thing; though how long such awe will last when she discovers
+that his marital attitude is sheer prostration before her, I cannot
+tell. Besides, he does not really require that she shall love him, only
+that she shall permit him to love her as much as he will; at present, at
+least, such an arrangement will just suit her."</p>
+
+<p>As he spoke the words, the door opened to admit Elsa herself.</p>
+
+<p>She entered, looking such a picture of girlish grace and sweetness as
+more than accounted for Percivale's subjugation. She wore the
+semi-classic robe of white and gold, in which Mr. Miles had chosen to
+paint her; and, as it was an evening dress, she had covered her
+shoulders with a long white cloak, lined with palest green silk.</p>
+
+<p>"Oh!" she stopped short, laughing. "Good-morning, Mr. Cranmer! I did not
+know you were here. I feel so crazy, dressed up like this in broad
+daylight. I wonder if I might be rude enough to ask you to turn out for
+a few minutes? I want to speak to Lady Mabel."</p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<h2>CHAPTER XLII.</h2>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i12">He either fears his fate too much,<br /></span>
+<span class="i14">Or his deserts are small,<br /></span>
+<span class="i12">That fears to put it to the touch<br /></span>
+<span class="i14">To win or lose it all!<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i24"><i>Marquess of Montrose.</i><br /></span>
+</div></div>
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+
+<p>Lady Mabel's dinner-party was a very cultured but also a somewhat
+unconventional one. Twelve was the number of guests, and all of them
+were young, lively, and either literary, scientific, artistic, or
+otherwise professional.</p>
+
+<p>Wynifred had been invited, as Jacqueline's penetration had divined,
+solely on the score of "Cicely Montfort's" success.</p>
+
+<p>If there was one thing that Lady Mabel loved, it was a gathering of this
+sort: where everything imaginable was discussed, from anthropomorphism
+to the growing of tobacco in England&mdash;from Egyptian hieroglyphics to the
+latest <i>opera bouffe</i>. The relations of her ladyship's husband would
+have had a fit could they have peeped from the heights of their English
+starch and propriety at the <i>mixed</i> company in Bruton Street. But, not
+greatly to his wife's regret, Colonel Wynch-Fr�re's health had entailed
+a sojourn in Egypt for the winter, and his relations were conspicuous by
+their absence. Claud, her unconventional, happy-go-lucky brother, made
+all the host she required. However little he might care for the young
+actors and journalists who adored his sister, he was always genially
+ready to shake hands and profess himself glad to see them; and when his
+eldest brother, the earl, complained to him of Mabel's vagaries, he
+would merely placidly reply that he did not see why the poor girl should
+not have some pleasure in her life&mdash;let her take it how she pleased.</p>
+
+<p>Her ladyship was, of course, a holder of that unwritten axiom which
+governs modern culture, <i>Intelligence implies infidelity</i>.</p>
+
+<p>If she met anyone who had read, or thought, on any subject whatever,
+she took it for granted that they had decided that the gospels were
+spurious, and St. Paul, as Festus discovered, beside himself. Of course
+she, in common with everyone else equally enlightened, kindly conceded
+the extreme beauty of the gospel narrative and the great force of St.
+Paul's reasoning on false premises&mdash;as furnishing a kind of excuse to
+those people who had ignorantly accepted them as a Divine message for so
+long.</p>
+
+<p>The great charm of holding these opinions was that she found so many to
+sympathise with her, and she had invited a selection of these to dinner
+that night, sure that the conversation would be most interesting and
+instructive. Concerning Wynifred's views on this point she had no
+definite knowledge. "Cicely Montfort" spoke of Christianity as still a
+vital force, and of the Church Catholic as bearing a Divine charter to
+the end of time; but, of course, Christianity is a very artistic theme,
+with highly dramatic possibilities, and the most utter unbeliever may
+use it effectively to suit the purposes of fiction. Anyway, Lady Mabel's
+breadth of view constrained her to hope the best&mdash;to expect
+enlightenment until ignorance and superstition had been openly avowed;
+so she invited Miss Allonby to dinner.</p>
+
+<p>Her pretty drawing-room was as complete as taste could make it; she
+herself was a study, as she stood on the fur hearth-rug, receiving her
+friends, with all her Irish grace of manner.</p>
+
+<p>Wynifred was in anything but high spirits when she arrived. To begin
+with, she was overworked. In her anxiety to render Osmond independent,
+she had been taxing her strength to its utmost limits all the winter
+through. In the next place, she was angry with herself for having
+accepted the invitation; she thought that it showed a want of proper
+pride on her part. Finally she was very unhappy over herself, on account
+of her utter failure to drive the thought of Claud Cranmer from her
+heart. Her self-control seemed gone. She had exacted too much from the
+light heart of girlhood&mdash;had employed her powers of concentration too
+unsparingly. Now the mainspring had suddenly failed; she felt weak and
+frightened.</p>
+
+<p>What was to be done if her hold over herself should give way altogether?
+A nervous dread was upon her. If her old power over her feelings was
+gone, on what could she depend? All the way to Bruton Street she was
+calling up her pride, her maidenliness, everything she could think of to
+sustain her; yet all the time with a secret consciousness that it was
+like applying the spur to a jaded horse&mdash;sooner or later she must
+stumble, and fall exhausted.</p>
+
+<p>She looked worn and pale as she entered the room. Claud took note of it.
+Had he been on the brink of falling in love, it might have checked him;
+but, as he was already hopelessly in that condition, it merely inspired
+him with tenderness unutterable. It no longer mattered to him whether
+she were plain or pretty, youthful or worn; whatever she was, he loved
+her.</p>
+
+<p>It so happened that she was obliged, after just greeting him, to take a
+seat at the further side of the room, and politeness forced him to
+continue the discussion on Swinburne into which he had been drawn by the
+last new poetess, a pretty little woman with soft eyes and a hard mouth,
+who was living separated from her husband, but most touchingly devoted
+to her two children. She was a spiritualist, and had written a book to
+prove that Shakespeare was of the same following, so that her
+conversation was, as will be divined, deeply interesting.</p>
+
+<p>Wyn, for a few minutes, sat without speaking to anybody, taking in her
+surroundings gradually. It seemed as if things were on a different
+footing&mdash;as if all were changed since the old days at Edge. Claud, in
+his simple faultless evening attire, with his smooth fair head under the
+light of a yellow silk lamp-shade, and the last new book balanced
+carelessly between his fingers as he leaned forward in his low chair,
+was in some indefinable way a different Claud from him who had stood
+with her in the garden of Poole Farm in the glowing twilight of the
+early summer night, which had brought back life to Osmond.</p>
+
+<p>The room was a mass of little luxuries&mdash;trifles too light and various to
+be describable, all the nameless elegancies of modern life, with its
+superfluities, its pretence of intellect, its discriminating taste. It
+was not exactly the impression of great wealth which was conveyed&mdash;that,
+as a rule, is self-assertive. Here the arrangement was absolutely
+unconscious; there was no display, it was rather a total ignorance of
+the value of money&mdash;the result of a condition of life where poverty in
+detail was unknown. Lady Mabel had often experienced the want of money,
+but that meant money in large quantities; she had been called upon to
+forego a London season; she had never felt it necessary to deny herself
+a guinea's-worth of hot-house flowers.</p>
+
+<p>Wynifred sat in the circle of delicate light, feeling in every fibre of
+her nature the rest and delight of her surroundings. The craving for
+beautiful things, for ease and luxury, always so carefully smothered,
+was wide awake to-night. Lady Mabel seemed environed in an atmosphere of
+her own. The short skirts and thick boots which she had used in
+Devonshire were things of the past. Her thick white silk gown swept the
+rug at her feet, her emeralds flashed, her clumps of violets made the
+air sweet all round her. It was something alien from the seamy side of
+life which the girl knew so well. That very day she had travelled along
+Holborn, in an omnibus, weary but hopeful, from an interview with her
+publisher. Now the idea of that dingy omnibus, of the yellow fog, muddy
+streets, dirty boots, and tired limbs;&mdash;of the lonely, ungirlish
+battling for independence, sent through her a weak movement of false
+shame. It was repented of as soon as felt; but the sting remained. It
+was not wise of her to visit in Bruton Street. What had she in common
+with Lady Mabel, or&mdash;Lady Mabel's brother? Her unpretentious black
+evening dress, though it fitted well, and showed up the delicate skin
+which was one of her definite attractions, seemed to belong to a lower
+order of things than the mist of lace, silk, sparkles, and faint perfume
+which clad her hostess.</p>
+
+<p>No, she was not wise, she told herself, in the perturbation of her
+spirits. What besides discontent could she achieve here?</p>
+
+<p>This unhappy frame of mind lasted about a quarter-of-an-hour. Then she
+began to call herself to order. Lady Mabel's attention was diverted by a
+young man who was yearning to rave with her over the priceless depths of
+truth revealed in the latest infidel romance, and the fearless manner in
+which the devoted author had stripped Christianity of its superstitions,
+to give it to the world in all its uninspired simplicity. Like the
+authoress of the book in question, Lady Mabel had imbibed her Strauss
+and her Hegel somewhat late in life, as well as a good deal late in her
+century. Doctrines burst upon her with all the force of novelty which,
+in the year 1858, a champion of Christianity had been able calmly to
+describe as "a class of objections which were very popular a few years
+ago, and are not yet entirely extinguished."</p>
+
+<p>The calm disapproval with which Miss Allonby found that it was natural
+to listen to the two speakers restored to her a little of her waning
+self-respect. A wave of peace crept into her soul. Social distinctions
+seemed very small when coupled with the thought of that divinity so
+lightly discussed and rejected in this pretty drawing-room. A movement
+at her side interrupted her thoughts. Claud had moved to the seat next
+her.</p>
+
+<p>"I wonder how you like Belfont in 'The Taming of the Shrew?'" he said,
+as though purposely to turn her attention from what she could not avoid
+hearing.</p>
+
+<p>It was done, as she had learnt that all his graceful little acts were
+done, with a complete show of unconsciousness; but her gratitude made
+her answering look radiant with the vivid expression which was to him so
+irresistible.</p>
+
+<p>Yet, even as she met his kind eyes, she experienced a pang. Why was this
+man placed out of her reach&mdash;this one man whose sympathies were so
+wonderfully akin to her own? He could interpret her very thoughts; the
+least thing that jarred upon her seemed to distress him also.</p>
+
+<p>"You were out, when I called," said he, after a few minutes.</p>
+
+<p>She could find nothing more striking in reply than a bare "Yes."</p>
+
+<p>"I saw your brother," he went on, diffidently. "Did he mention our
+conversation to you?"</p>
+
+<p>"No; that is, nothing particular."</p>
+
+<p>"Ah! I was afraid I had put my foot into it," said Claud, taking up the
+black lace fan from her knee and playing with it.</p>
+
+<p>"What did you say?" asked the girl, with eager anxiety.</p>
+
+<p>"It was a thankless task&mdash;one usually burns one's own fingers by trying
+to meddle with other people's affairs; but I thought," said the young
+man, "as I had seen a good deal of Allonby last summer, that I would be
+doing him a good turn if I let him know the state of affairs?"</p>
+
+<p>"The state of affairs?"</p>
+
+<p>"Yes: with regard to my friend Percivale and Miss Brabourne. You see,
+she knew nothing and nobody when your brother spoke to her last summer.
+It was unfortunate ... but it could not be helped ... the long and short
+of it is, however, that I am afraid she has changed her mind."</p>
+
+<p>Wynifred controlled herself; after all, it was only a definite statement
+of what she had known must be the case.</p>
+
+<p>"You&mdash;told Osmond this?" she faltered.</p>
+
+<p>"I tried to; I daresay I bungled; anyhow he took it in very bad part.
+Said it was a pity for outsiders to meddle in these things, especially
+when they were so imperfectly informed."</p>
+
+<p>"Oh!"</p>
+
+<p>"I daresay it was entirely my fault; but I thought, in case he had been
+abusing me, that I must justify myself with you.... I mean, I want you
+to believe that my motive was kind."</p>
+
+<p>"I do believe it."</p>
+
+<p>How thankful she felt that the room was full of people! Had they been
+alone she must have broken down. As it was, he must see that her eyes
+were full of tears; and, had her life depended upon it, she could not
+have helped answering his tender gaze of sympathy with such a look as
+she had never given him before. It was a look of utter, defenceless
+weakness&mdash;a look of girlish helplessness&mdash;it sent his heart knocking
+wildly against his side. He drew his breath in sharply, through his set
+teeth. Had there been no audience he would have tried his fate there and
+then.</p>
+
+<p>Surely it was the subdued woman's heart that appealed to him from those
+pathetic eyes. Ah, would she only overlook his inadequacy, his
+short-comings, and let him be to her what an inner consciousness told
+him that he alone could! He sat gazing at her, oblivious for the moment
+of his surroundings; she scattered his dream by a hurried question&mdash;the
+eloquent silence was more than she could bear.</p>
+
+<p>"Forgive my asking,&mdash;but&mdash;is anything decided yet?"</p>
+
+<p>"I think you have every right to know as much as I do of the matter.
+Percivale proposed to her last night, and was accepted. Of course,
+nothing can be announced until the Misses Willoughby sanction the
+engagement. He has written this afternoon; but I cannot imagine that any
+difficulty will be made on their part; he is so altogether
+unexceptionable."</p>
+
+<p>As he spoke, a door opposite them opened, and Elsa appeared in the
+doorway. She was smiling&mdash;her soft dreamy smile&mdash;and her hands were full
+of flowers. Her lover was just behind her, his face aglow with happiness
+and satisfaction. They came in together; a sudden shade dropped over
+Elsa's face as her eyes met those of Wynifred. A slight color rose to
+her cheeks, and she hesitated.</p>
+
+<p>Wynifred rose, went forward, shook hands, and inquired after the Misses
+Willoughby in a perfectly natural manner; but she failed to reassure the
+girl, who answered hurriedly, with a look of guilty consciousness, and
+escaped as soon as she possibly could to the other side of the room.</p>
+
+<p>"It is very natural," said Wyn, with a sad little smile to Claud, "that
+she should be shy of me; but she need not. I do not blame her in the
+least; if anyone is to blame in the matter it is poor Osmond. I fancy he
+is likely to suffer pretty severely for his imprudence."</p>
+
+<p>"Miss Allonby," said Lady Mabel, approaching with the young man she had
+been talking to, "I want to introduce you to a most interesting person
+to take you down to dinner. He is an esoteric Buddhist&mdash;so earnest and
+devoted, as well as intensely enlightened. Mr. Kleber&mdash;Miss Allonby."</p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<h2>CHAPTER XLIII.</h2>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i12">No man ever lived and loved, that longed not,<br /></span>
+<span class="i12">Once, and only once, and for one only,&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i12">Ah, the prize!&mdash;to give his love a language.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i24"><i>One Word More.</i><br /></span>
+</div></div>
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+
+<p>At an earlier period in her career, the esoteric Buddhist would have
+amused Wynifred beyond measure. She would have regarded him as material
+for a sketch of character, and drawn him out with such intent; but she
+was past this, to-night.</p>
+
+<p>She had burst all barriers&mdash;all care for her professional career was
+gone; she recked nothing of whether she ever again wrote a line, or not;
+everything which made up the sum of her daily existence was forgotten,
+or if remembered seemed poor, trivial, unimportant, beside the present
+fact of Claud sitting at the foot of the table, with the spiritualist
+poetess on his right and a lady politician on his left, each talking
+across him without intermission, as it seemed, and sometimes evidently
+amusing him, for he smiled a pre-occupied smile from time to time. But
+ever his eyelids were lifted to where sat the pale girl in black
+separated from him as far as circumstances permitted, eclipsed and
+blotted out by the vivid color of the young actress who sat near her,
+and by the regal beauty of Elsa opposite.</p>
+
+<p>Usually, Wynifred easily held her own among women with twice
+her charms, by the spell of her conversation; but to-night she was
+silent&mdash;abstracted&mdash;trying to give her best attention to her neighbor,
+but with ears stretched to catch the accents of the low, hearty Irish
+voice at the end of the table. Lady Mabel, who had heard something of
+the girl's brilliancy, was quite cast down. Wyn absolutely declined the
+<i>r�le</i> of Authoress to-night, and was almost stupid in some of her
+answers, avowing that she did not believe in the astral fluid, and
+getting hopelessly wrecked on the subject of Avatars, which dimly
+recalled to her mind Browning's poem, "What's become of Waring?"</p>
+
+<p>When the move was made, and the ladies rose from table, it was almost
+with a pang that she left the room in which Claud remained. She dared
+not lift her eyes to his, as he stood holding back the door for them to
+file out, yet the bent, shy head inspired in him a hope unfelt before.
+Was consciousness awake at last;&mdash;that consciousness which for his own
+amusement he had tried to stir at Edge, and which had annoyed him so
+greatly by falling to sleep again and declining to be roused? A dream of
+utter personal happiness enfolded him, and made him a more negligent
+host than was his wont; and, as Percivale too was aching to be in the
+drawing-room, the male contingent soon made their appearance, to the
+delight of the ladies and the chagrin of the professional gentlemen, who
+most of them found a good deal of wine necessary to support their
+enormous and continuous brain-efforts.</p>
+
+<p>But no further word with Miss Allonby was possible for Claud.</p>
+
+<p>A sudden suspicion had flashed across the mind of Lady Mabel&mdash;dismissed
+as unlikely, but still leaving just enough weight to make her determine
+that no unnecessary words should pass between them. She did not like
+Wynifred, and she had never imagined for a moment that her brother did,
+until to-night. Even now she was by no means sure of it; only Claud
+seemed abstracted and unlike himself. She dexterously kept him employed
+with first one person, then another, using the same tactics with the
+girl, until the cruelly short evening was past, and Wynifred had to rise
+and make her adieux, feeling something as if she had been through a
+surgical operation&mdash;that it was over&mdash;and that she was living still.</p>
+
+<p>Never would she visit that house again, she truly vowed, as she dragged
+her tired limbs upstairs. This was the limit of her endurance. Not any
+motive, whether of self-interest, or of foolish, worse than foolish
+infatuation, should drag her there. As she came down Claud stood in the
+hall at the foot of the staircase, waiting.</p>
+
+<p>"Are you driving home alone, Miss Allonby?"</p>
+
+<p>"Yes; I could not ask Osmond to fetch me from this house, could I? But I
+am not nervous, thank you."</p>
+
+<p>"But I am, for you. Will you not allow me to come with you?"</p>
+
+<p>Now, if ever, must be the moment of strength&mdash;now one last effort of
+self-command. Let the heart which is bleeding to cry, "Come!" be
+silenced&mdash;let maidenly pride step in. What! allow Claud Cranmer to drive
+home with you when you are in this mood&mdash;when one kind word would draw
+the weak tears in floods&mdash;oh, never, never, never!</p>
+
+<p>"Come with me, Mr. Cranmer? On no account, thank you,"&mdash;a chilly manner,
+a spice of surprise at the offer. "It will break up your sister's party.
+Good-night."</p>
+
+<p>At the same moment the drawing-room door above opened quickly, and Lady
+Mabel's voice was heard.</p>
+
+<p>"Henry! is Mr. Cranmer there? I want him."</p>
+
+<p>"You see," said Wynifred, with a little smile. "Good-night again."</p>
+
+<p>She was gone.</p>
+
+<p>A moment later, and the tears had come&mdash;had gushed freely as the rain.
+Alone in the London cab, the girl bowed herself together in the
+extremity of her pain. It was no use to argue or ask herself why; only
+she felt as if all were over. Had she done right? Was it indeed wise to
+be so proud? Was it possible that really, after all, he loved her as she
+loved him? If so, how she must have hurt him by her cold refusal! And
+yet&mdash;yet&mdash;the sons of earls do not marry girls in Wynifred's position.
+Better a broken heart than humiliation, she cried bitterly. Did not the
+warning of poor Osmond's hideous delusion loom up darkly before her?</p>
+
+<p>Yet where was the comfort of right-doing? Nowhere. If this were right,
+she had rather a thousand times that she had done wrong. Oh, to have him
+there beside her, on any terms&mdash;recklessly to enjoy the delight of his
+presence, caring not what came after. So low does love degrade? she
+questioned.</p>
+
+<p>After a few minutes, her wildness was a little calmed. An appeal had
+gone up to the God Who, in Lady Mabel's creed, was powerless to save,
+yet the thought of Whom seemed the only remedy for this misery; she felt
+anew that she was in reality neither reckless nor degraded, only worn
+out, mind and body.</p>
+
+<p>The cause of her wild longing for Claud was as much the feminine desire
+to rest on the strength of a masculine nature as the weaker yearning to
+be loved. With Osmond she had been always the supporter, never the
+supported; to the girls she had been forced to stand in the light of
+father and mother, as well as sister; and it had come to be a family
+tradition that Wyn was indifferent to anything in the shape of a
+love-affair&mdash;impervious as far as she herself was concerned, though
+sympathetic enough in the vicissitudes of others.</p>
+
+<p>It seemed, indeed, a hard dispensation both for brother and sister that,
+when at last their jealously-guarded and seldom-spent store of sentiment
+found an object, it should be in each case an object out of reach.</p>
+
+<p>It seemed to Wynifred as if to-night a climax was reached. The point had
+come when she could bear no more; she could do nothing but sit and
+suffer, with a keenness of which a year ago she had not deemed herself
+capable.</p>
+
+<p>Mansfield Road was reached at last.</p>
+
+<p>Somewhat to her surprise, lights were in the dining-room window, and, as
+the wheels of her vehicle stopped, a hand drew aside the blind, and,
+some one looked eagerly out. Almost at once the hall door was flung
+open, and Wynifred painfully conscious of red and swollen eyelids,
+walked slowly in.</p>
+
+<p>Osmond was holding back the door with such a pleasant, happy smile, as
+drove a fresh knife into her heart. Was she to be the messenger to dash
+his cup of joy from his lips, and tell him that his hopes lay in ruins
+all around him? She felt that it was impossible&mdash;at least, yet; and,
+before she had time to think more, Hilda's voice broke in from the
+dining-room:</p>
+
+<p>"Is that you, Wyn? Do come in&mdash;there's some news&mdash;guess what has
+happened! Osmond and I waited up to tell you."</p>
+
+<p>She walked in, feeling stiff, mazed, and as though the familiar room was
+strange to her. Sally, who was also standing by, participating in the
+general excitement, burst out&mdash;</p>
+
+<p>"Bless me, Miss Wyn, whatever is the matter? You look like a ghost!"</p>
+
+<p>"I am tired, Sally&mdash;dead beat&mdash;that is the only expression that conveys
+my meaning. I told you I was done up before I started, did I not?... I
+shall be&mdash;well again to-morrow. What is the news?"</p>
+
+<p>Hilda's eyes were soft and almost tearful.</p>
+
+<p>"Can't you guess?" she said.</p>
+
+<p>Wyn flashed a look round, noting Jac's absence.</p>
+
+<p>"Jac!" she said, involuntarily.</p>
+
+<p>"She would not stay up to tell you herself," smiled Hilda.</p>
+
+<p>"Not&mdash;oh, Hilda, not&mdash;Mr. Haldane?"</p>
+
+<p>"Yes; they are engaged," said Osmond, brightly. "It will be a wrench, at
+first, to lose Jacqueline out of the house; but think what a match it
+will be for her! Such a delightful fellow! Ah, Wyn, I am not too selfish
+to be able to rejoice in their happiness. They have nothing to wait for!
+He can well afford to be married to-morrow, if it please him. She is a
+fortunate girl!"</p>
+
+<p>"She deserves it!" cried Hilda, loyally. "Oh, Wyn, they are so
+deliciously in love with one another!"</p>
+
+<p>In the midst of this family sensation, Wyn could not bear to launch her
+thunderbolt. To destroy, at a word, all Osmond's peace was more than she
+felt herself equal to. The little drop of balm seemed to blunt for a few
+minutes the keen edge of her own pain.</p>
+
+<p>In Jac's little room, with her arms about the pliant young form, and the
+blooming head hidden in her neck, she could feel for the time almost
+happy in the hushed intensity of the girl's love.</p>
+
+<p>It was what the others had longed for, but scarcely dared to hope. In
+fact, much as she liked young Haldane, Wynifred had never encouraged his
+visits much, for fear of breaking Jacqueline's heart. But now all was
+right. The young man had chosen for love, and not for gain. Jacqueline
+would be a member of one of the oldest county families in England. No
+wonder that the engagement shed a treacherous beam of unfounded hope
+over Osmond's path. If Ted Haldane could marry for love, other people
+equally exalted might do the same.</p>
+
+<p>For a few hours he must go on in his fool's Paradise. Wynifred <i>could
+not</i> speak the words which should wake him from his dream.</p>
+
+<p>All night long she lay with eyes wide open to the winter moonlight,
+watching the pale stars hang motionless in the dark soft sky, bright
+things which every eye may gaze upon, but no man may approach. Their
+measureless distance weighed upon her as if to crush her. A leaden clamp
+seemed bound round her aching temples. To live was to suffer, yet the
+relief of sleep was unattainable. Faster and faster the thoughts whirled
+through her tortured brain. There was no power to stop them. Over and
+over again she lived through the events of last evening; over and over
+again she heard each word that Claud had uttered; again she saw the open
+doorway, the regal girl with her flowers, her lips curved with laughter,
+her lover attendant at her side. One after the other the pictures chased
+each other through her mind, in never-ending succession, till it seemed
+as if she must go mad. There was no respite, no moment of blissful
+unconsciousness till the laggard January dawn had come, and Sally was
+filling her bath with the customary morning splash.</p>
+
+<p>It seemed a bitter irony. Was this morning, then, like any other
+morning, that the habits and customs of the house were to go on as
+usual?</p>
+
+<p>"Am I to get up?" asked she, in a dazed way. "Why yes, of course. I must
+get up, I suppose."</p>
+
+<p>"Ain't you well, Miss Wyn?" queried Sally, in a doubtful voice.</p>
+
+<p>"Not quite, Sal. I have been working too hard, I think. But now I
+remember, I must get up, for my proofs are not corrected. When they are
+finished, I think&mdash;I think that I must take a little rest."</p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<h2>CHAPTER XLIV.</h2>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i24">Unwise<br /></span>
+<span class="i12">I loved and was lowly, loved and aspired,<br /></span>
+<span class="i12">Loved, grieving or glad, till I made you mad,<br /></span>
+<span class="i12">And you meant to have hated and despised,<br /></span>
+<span class="i12">Whereas you deceived me, nor inquired.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i24"><i>The Worst of It.</i><br /></span>
+</div></div>
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+
+<p>It was the second morning after Lady Mabel's dinner-party. Claud and his
+niece sat together in the morning-room, discussing the affairs of the
+nation. A large picture-book was spread out across the young lady's
+knees, and her most serious attention was being bestowed on a picture of
+Joseph in the pit, which subject her uncle elucidated by a commentary
+not exactly remarkable for Scriptural accuracy.</p>
+
+<p>He was preoccupied and bothered, and did not find the child's chatter so
+engrossing as usual, for he had many things on his mind.</p>
+
+<p>There came an imperative knocking at the street door. He heard it, but
+without any particular anxiety. No visitor would penetrate into Mab's
+sanctum. It was not until the steps of the butler sounded along the
+tiled passage outside that he leaped to his feet with Kathleen in his
+arms, acutely conscious of the shabbiness of his brown velvet
+morning-coat.</p>
+
+<p>There was a sharp rap on the door, then it was thrown broadly open, and
+in the aperture appeared the sturdy square figure, sun-browned face, and
+grizzled hair of Henry Fowler.</p>
+
+<p>"Any admittance?" said his kind voice, cheerily. "I wouldn't let the
+good gentleman outside announce me. I think he took me for a country
+farmer, come to pay his respects&mdash;and he might have made a worse guess.
+How are you, my lad, how are you?"</p>
+
+<p>Claud had swooped upon him, dragged him in, shut the door, and now
+stood shaking the two firm hands in their tawny doe-skin gloves as
+though he would shake them off.</p>
+
+<p>"If anything in the world could make me feel good-tempered at this
+moment, it's the sight of you!" he cried, joyously. "Where did you
+spring from? What brought you up? How long can you stay? Tell me
+everything. This is a surprise of the right sort, and no mistake!"</p>
+
+<p>"Not so very surprising, is it?" asked Henry, as he drew a letter in
+Percivale's unmistakable hand from his breast-pocket. "I thought I must
+come and settle this in person. I am the Misses Willoughby's delegate."</p>
+
+<p>"Capital! Don't care what brings you. I only know how glad I am to see
+you."</p>
+
+<p>"Not more so than I to see you, my lad. You don't look as well, though,
+as you did when you left Lower House. You must come down again as soon
+as ever you can get free of dissipations. Your chair still looks vacant
+at table, and your horse is eating his head off in the stable. George
+took him for a gallop the other day, and managed to lame him slightly.
+'Eh,' says he, 'there'll be the devil to pay when Mr. Cranmer comes
+down!' So you see you're expected any time."</p>
+
+<p>"How good that sounds!" cried Claud, sitting on the table and swinging
+his legs boyishly. "Ah, I would like to be there at this minute! You
+have had some fine seas rolling up in Brent Bay, I'll go bail! I fancy I
+can still feel the salt sting of that sou'-wester we faced together. And
+the excitement in which the <i>Swan</i> made her <i>d�but</i>!"</p>
+
+<p>"Ay! That storm had consequences we little recked of," said Henry,
+thoughtfully fingering the letter in his hand. "To think of little Elsa!
+Well! Miss Ellen always said so. She was right, as usual. She is a woman
+of talent, is Miss Ellen, as well as being a saint on earth. But now,
+Claud, tell me, how have matters been arranged? I am an old stager, you
+see, and doubtless I don't march with the times; but this seems to me to
+be a very rapid business! 'Off with the old love and on with the new!'
+What has become of young Allonby? Has he quitted the lists, or how has
+he been disposed of?"</p>
+
+<p>Claud put his hands over his ears with a gesture of despair.</p>
+
+<p>"You may as well not waste your breath," he cried, in mock anger, "for
+not one word shall you get out of me on the subject of Miss Brabourne's
+love-affairs! I am sick of it! From morn till dewy eve do I hear of
+nothing else! It is my sister's one topic of conversation, and Percivale
+talks of it unceasingly! He has been here already once this morning
+pestering me to go with him to get her a necklace, or a plaything, or
+something! I'm hanged if I do! I have nothing to do with the
+matter&mdash;what's more, it doesn't interest me much! And now you come, on
+the top of everyone else, and gravely ask my opinion, or advice, or
+anything you please. Seriously, Fowler, you must excuse me; I will have
+nothing to say in the young lady's affairs, either to meddle or make. It
+is no business of mine whether she marries you, or the prime minister,
+or a crossing-sweeper, or anyone she chooses. I have worries enough of
+my own without puzzling over her the whole day long!"</p>
+
+<p>"Poor fellow! Are you worried?" asked Henry, kindly, looking doubtfully
+at him. "You should come and live with me&mdash;I am sure the life would suit
+you. I have just lost my overseer&mdash;Preston&mdash;you remember him! His work
+would do admirably for you, young man&mdash;much better than lounging about
+up here in London in hot rooms, doing nothing."</p>
+
+<p>"Doing nothing? I am minding the baby," said Claud, lightly, but the
+color flew to his fair face and he looked confused. "It is no good
+trying to reform me," he said, after a moment, his hot cheek against
+Kathleen's floss-silk curls; "I am an incorrigible idler."</p>
+
+<p>"I never knew a man less idle by disposition than you are," was the
+answer, as Henry regarded him with a look at once wistful and
+disapproving.</p>
+
+<p>"You're not thinking of getting married, then?" he asked, after an
+interval.</p>
+
+<p>"Married&mdash;I? No," stammered Claud, incoherently, as he rose, set the
+child on the rug, and walked to the window.</p>
+
+<p>There was a short, uncomfortable silence. Henry's puzzled gaze still
+followed the young man. At last, as if resigning the subject in hand as
+hopeless, he asked, abruptly:</p>
+
+<p>"Where's Elsa?"</p>
+
+<p>"Miss Brabourne? Oh, in bed."</p>
+
+<p>"In bed? Is she ill? You should have told me."</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, dear no, she is not ill. These are merely fashionable habits.
+Percivale thought, like you, that she must be ill; I had great
+difficulty in restraining him from rushing up to obtain the latest
+bulletin."</p>
+
+<p>"But&mdash;your sister&mdash;the butler said she was out!"</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, my sister is an early riser. She always breakfasts at eight."</p>
+
+<p>"So used Elsa&mdash;she was the soul of punctuality."</p>
+
+<p>"A compulsory punctuality, perhaps?"</p>
+
+<p>"Well&mdash;I suppose so; but why&mdash;what on earth can induce her to stay in
+bed till this hour?"</p>
+
+<p>"I am sure I don't know. Perhaps it is to take care of her complexion."</p>
+
+<p>"Take care of her complexion!... The child must have altered
+strangely&mdash;&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>"No; I don't think she has altered much; she has merely developed."</p>
+
+<p>As he spoke, the door was flung open, and Miss Brabourne, in her
+riding-habit, entered.</p>
+
+<p>"Lady Mabel, my horse is late again&mdash;&mdash;" the frown died away from the
+pretty forehead, the great blue eyes grew wide with surprise.</p>
+
+<p>"God-father!"</p>
+
+<p>"Well, god-daughter! Are you surprised? Not more than I am. My little
+girl is a woman of fashion now!"</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, how can you? Poor little me," said the girl, with an affected
+little laugh which jarred upon his nerves. "I am so pleased to see you!
+Are you come to stay here?"</p>
+
+<p>"Of course," put in Claud, hurriedly.</p>
+
+<p>"Thanks, Elsie, I shall perhaps be in town for a few days, but I prefer
+my own old room at the Langham."</p>
+
+<p>"My sister won't hear of such a thing," urged Claud.</p>
+
+<p>"Lady Mabel is more than kind, but I am an old bachelor, and I like my
+liberty. And so, Elsie, you are very well and blooming?"</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, very, very! I am enjoying myself so much here!"</p>
+
+<p>"I have a great deal to say to you, but you are going out now, I see?"</p>
+
+<p>"Yes," she said, composedly, "I am going out now, but of course you will
+stay to lunch, and I shall see you afterwards. Mr. Cranmer, did you see
+Mr. Percivale?"</p>
+
+<p>"Yes; he was very disappointed not to see you."</p>
+
+<p>"He should not come before lunch. I must tell him so; he might know I
+should not be visible," said Percivale's betrothed, coolly.</p>
+
+<p>The butler appeared.</p>
+
+<p>"Captain and Miss St. Quentin are at the door, and your horse is round,
+miss."</p>
+
+<p>"At last!" She caught up her gold-tipped riding-whip with her
+gauntletted hand, and waved it merrily at her god father. "I am going
+for a gallop round the Park with the St. Quentins, and then I shall see
+you again," she cried. "Mr. Cranmer, come and mount me, please, the
+groom is so awkward." She paused a moment at the door. "I have a great
+deal to tell you," said she, nodding, "so mind you are here on my
+return! I must not keep my friends waiting."</p>
+
+<p>She was gone.</p>
+
+<p>Mechanically Mr. Fowler went out into the hall and looked. Through the
+open door the gay winter sunshine shone on the glossy horses and the
+young, well-dressed riders. Claud helped the heiress to her saddle,
+gathered up the reins, gave them into her hands, bowed, patted the
+mare's glossy neck, and the party started away.</p>
+
+<p>"She never asked after her aunts," Mr. Fowler was reflecting. "Not one
+word. And they brought her up."</p>
+
+<p>Claud hardly liked to meet his eye as he returned slowly up the hall.
+His sympathy for the elder man was at that moment deep and intense.
+Henry had never been blind to Elsa's failings, but had always ascribed
+them to her bringing-up, and believed that, in a more genial atmosphere,
+they would vanish; that, when treated with love, the girl would grow
+loving. She had always in old days been so fond of him, clung to him,
+cried at his departure. He forgot that at that time his was the only
+notice she ever received, whereas now she had more notice from everyone
+than she knew what to do with. Collecting himself with an effort, he
+turned to Claud.</p>
+
+<p>"I have some business I must see after just now," he said. "Am I likely
+to find Lady Mabel if I come about five?"</p>
+
+<p>Claud thought it was kinder to let him go for the present. He had
+forgotten with what suddenness the change in the girl would come upon
+one who had not seen her for some months.</p>
+
+<p>Henry left the house in a reverie so deep that he walked on, hardly
+knowing where. He was mystified, staggered, what the French call
+<i>boulevers�</i>. If a girl could so develop in a few months, what would she
+be in another year? Was it safe to let anyone marry such an
+extraordinary uncertainty? The problem was no nearer to being solved
+when he discovered that it was past two o'clock. Sensible of the pangs
+of a country appetite, he went to a restaurant, lunched leisurely, and
+then decided that it was not too early to present himself at Mansfield
+Road for a morning call.</p>
+
+<p>It was strange how his spirits rose and his thoughts grew more agreeable
+as he walked briskly on. It was so pleasant to think that he was going
+to see Wynifred. Of course she might, and very probably would, be out;
+but he should not be discouraged. He meant to see her; if not to-day,
+then to-morrow; and he was a person who resolved seldom and firmly.</p>
+
+<p>The aspect of the little house pleased him. The small garden strip was
+black and bare with winter, but indoors through the window could be seen
+a row of hyacinths in bloom, and a warm curtain of dull red serge was
+drawn across the hall, visible through the glass lights of the front
+door.</p>
+
+<p>With a glow of pleasurable anticipation, he applied his hand to the
+knocker. Before he had time to breathe, the red curtain was torn aside,
+a girl had darted forward, seized the handle, and ejaculating, "Well?"
+in a tone as if her very life depended on the answer, fell back in
+confused recognition and apology.</p>
+
+<p>It was Wynifred&mdash;but what a Wynifred! She looked all eyes. Her face was
+sheet-white, her hair thrust back in disorder from her forehead; her
+expression conveyed the idea of such suffering that her visitor's very
+heart was riven.</p>
+
+<p>"Mr.&mdash;Fowler," she said, faintly. "Oh, I beg your pardon. Come in. We
+are in&mdash;trouble."</p>
+
+<p>He closed the door, tossed his stick into a corner, and, taking both the
+girl's hands, drew her into the little dining-room.</p>
+
+<p>"Miss Allonby," he said, in tones whose affectionate warmth was in
+itself a comfort&mdash;"Miss Allonby, if you are in trouble, I must help you.
+I have come at the right moment. Now, what is it? Do you feel able to
+tell me?"</p>
+
+<p>She sank upon a chair, turning her quivering face away out of his sight.</p>
+
+<p>"Oh!" she said, "how can I tell you? How can I? It is all so miserable,
+so.... What a way to receive you!... You must have thought me mad."</p>
+
+<p>"I thought nothing of the kind. I could see that you were utterly
+over-wrought. For pity's sake, don't make apologies&mdash;don't treat me as
+if I were a stranger. Tell me what the trouble is."</p>
+
+<p>She lifted her eyes, the lashes drowned in tears that could not fall.</p>
+
+<p>"I will show you, I think," said she. "Come."</p>
+
+<p>Rising, she hastily went out, he following, expecting he knew not what.
+She led him into the studio.</p>
+
+<p>It was a fair-sized room, built out behind the small house. Usually it
+was a charming place. Girlish fingers had arranged quaint pottery and
+artistic draperies&mdash;placing lamps in dark corners, flowers in vases, and
+tinting the shabby furniture with color. The piano stood there, and near
+the fire a well-worn sofa, and two or three capacious wicker chairs.</p>
+
+<p>To-day a nameless desolation overspread the very air. Mr. Fowler
+entered, and looked straight before him. An enormous canvas was mounted
+on a screw easel in the best light the room afforded. The landscape had
+been put in with masterly freedom, and was almost finished. But a hole a
+foot square gaped in the centre of the picture, and the canvas was
+hacked and torn away in strips, some lying on the floor beneath. Near
+this ruin was a gilt frame, the portrait from which had been slit clean
+out, torn across and across, and left in fragments. So all round the
+room. Picture after picture had been torn from the wall, and dashed to
+the ground as if by a frenzied hand. A pile of delicate water-color
+studies on paper lay in the grate half charred, wholly destroyed. The
+whole scene was one of utter and hopeless wreckage. The mischief was
+irremediable.</p>
+
+<p>The visitor uttered an exclamation of consternation. "What does it
+mean?" he asked.</p>
+
+<p>"I don't think I ought to tell you," said the girl, who was standing
+against the wall as if for support, her head thrown back, her eyes
+raised as if to avoid seeing the desolation which surrounded her.</p>
+
+<p>"Nonsense. You <i>must</i> tell me," said Henry, bluntly.</p>
+
+<p>Slowly she took a letter from her pocket, went forward, and laid it on a
+table which stood near the centre of the room. The table was heaped with
+a confusion of brushes, tubes of color, palette knives, varnish bottles,
+and mugs of turpentine, all of which had been pushed hastily together,
+that the letter might occupy a prominent position by itself.</p>
+
+<p>"When I went to call my brother this morning," said Wyn, obeying his
+mandate as if she could not help herself, "I could not make him hear. At
+last I went in. He was not in his room; he had not been to bed at all.
+It seemed to give me a terrible shock: I&mdash;I&mdash;partly guessed ... I knew I
+ought to have told him; but I...."</p>
+
+<p>"Don't reproach yourself&mdash;go straight on," said Henry, anxiously.</p>
+
+<p>"I rushed down here: for he has done such a thing as sit up all night.
+He was gone; the room was as you see it. That letter was on the table."</p>
+
+<p>He possessed himself of the envelope. It was hastily scrawled on the
+outside in pencil, "For Wynifred." In a tremor of apprehension, he drew
+out the enclosure. It was in Elsa's hand-writing.</p>
+
+<blockquote><p>"<span class="smcap">Dear Mr. Allonby</span>,</p>
+
+<p>"I am afraid this letter will make you very angry, and this makes
+me sorry to write, as I have always liked you so much, ever since I
+knew you. But I think I ought to let you know that I have found out
+that I do not love you well enough to marry you some day, as you
+hoped. I am engaged to be married to Mr. Percivale, who was so kind
+and good when everyone else thought that I had killed my brother. I
+hope this will not disappoint you too much, and that we shall
+always be friends. I send my love to your sisters, and remain,</p>
+
+<p class="right">"Yours sincerely,&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;<br />
+"<span class="smcap">Elaine Bradbourne</span>.</p>
+
+<p>"P.S.&mdash;You see I had not seen Mr. Percivale when I said I would
+marry you."</p></blockquote>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<h2>CHAPTER XLV.</h2>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i12">Now I may speak; you fool, for all<br /></span>
+<span class="i12">Your lore! WHO made things plain in vain?<br /></span>
+<span class="i12">What was the sea for? What the grey<br /></span>
+<span class="i12">Sad church, that solitary day,<br /></span>
+<span class="i12">Crosses and graves, and swallows call?<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i12">Was there nought better them to enjoy,<br /></span>
+<span class="i12">No feat which, done, would make time break<br /></span>
+<span class="i12">And let us pent-up creatures through<br /></span>
+<span class="i12">Into eternity, our due?<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i24"><i>Dis aliter visum.</i><br /></span>
+</div></div>
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+
+<p>At this letter Mr. Fowler stared, as though some magnetic power rivetted
+his eyes to the sheet.</p>
+
+<p>At last he slowly lifted his gaze, to fix it on Wyn.</p>
+
+<p>"Is this the only intimation&mdash;the only explanation she has given him?"</p>
+
+<p>The girl assented.</p>
+
+<p>"It is my fault," she said, huskily. "I knew it two days ago, Mr.
+Cranmer told me, but I had not the heart nor the strength to tell
+Osmond; I could not!"</p>
+
+<p>"It is monstrous, heartless. I cannot understand it," he said, in a
+harassed voice. "Something should be done&mdash;she should be made to feel&mdash;I
+think Percivale should see this letter!"</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, no! No! You must not think of such a thing!" Leaping up, the girl
+caught the letter from his hand. "It is not her fault&mdash;not her fault&mdash;it
+was poor Osmond's!... What she says is true. She had seen no one when he
+spoke to her. She did not understand what it meant! Her mind was like a
+child's&mdash;unformed. She could not have remained as she was then. It is
+natural, it is what I felt would come."</p>
+
+<p>"But this unnatural, insolent brevity!" cried Henry, indignantly. "See
+here: 'To be married, as <i>you</i> hoped.' 'I hope <i>you</i> will not be
+disappointed.' Nothing of what it costs her to write and own her change
+of feeling. I call it intolerable."</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, it is better so! Better any brevity, however crude, than hollow
+professions, or&mdash;or useless regret. You must not blame her, please, Mr.
+Fowler. It will be all right soon, as soon as I hear that he is safe,"
+panted poor Wyn, biting her pale lips.</p>
+
+<p>"How can you take her part, here in the ruin she has caused?" demanded
+Henry, fiercely.</p>
+
+<p>"She did not cause it. I will be just," said Wyn, faintly but firmly.
+"Osmond has deluded himself. She never loved him&mdash;he should have known
+it. She had forgotten him in a month. She never came here, never wrote
+to us, never took any steps to renew the intimacy, yet he would go on,
+hugging his folly, though I told him what it would be."</p>
+
+<p>Even in his agitation he had time for a passing feeling of fervent
+admiration for the woman who could be just at such a crisis.</p>
+
+<p>"I will spend no more time in lamenting over spilt milk," he said, "but
+see if I cannot help you, Miss Wynifred. I suppose your brother's
+absence is the chief trouble?"</p>
+
+<p>She answered by a movement of the head.</p>
+
+<p>"What steps have you taken?"</p>
+
+<p>"Mr. Haldane, who is engaged to Jacqueline, has gone to Scotland Yard. I
+thought it was his knock when you came&mdash;that was why I went to the door.
+The girls are gone together to telegraph to a friend of his who lives in
+a little remote village; he sometimes goes there, we thought it was
+possible he might have done so to-day."</p>
+
+<p>"Just so; then you have no idea of where he went, or what he meant to
+do?"</p>
+
+<p>"None at all. Oh," she began to shiver nervously, "you do not think he
+has&mdash;do you? People do such fearful things sometimes ... and he is one
+of those gentle, passive men, with a terrible temper when once he is
+roused; you can tell, by this room, what a state of mind he was in. I
+knew it would be so! I said, if she failed him, he would never do a
+stroke of work again. Oh, if that were really to be true!"</p>
+
+<p>She gave a cry of helpless pain.</p>
+
+<p>"Say you don't think he has done it!" she gasped.</p>
+
+<p>"I am sure he has not. He is a brave man and a Christian. No man who had
+your love left to him would take his own life," cried Henry,
+incoherently. "Keep up your courage, Miss Wyn, you have so much nerve."</p>
+
+<p>"Not now&mdash;not now. It has gone. Come away, come out of this room, I
+cannot bear it, it stifles me."</p>
+
+<p>She moved uncertainly towards the door, almost as if she were groping.</p>
+
+<p>"My head aches till I can scarcely see," faltered she, apologetically.</p>
+
+<p>His eyes were fixed apprehensively on the slight figure which moved
+before him. Just as she reached the dining-room door, she swayed
+helplessly. It was well that the sturdy Henry, with his iron muscles,
+was behind her. He took her in his arms as if she had been a little
+baby, laid her on the sofa, and fetched the water from the sideboard.
+Her faint was deeper, however, than he had anticipated, and, after ten
+minutes of absolute unconsciousness, he was constrained to go to the top
+of the kitchen stairs and call Sally.</p>
+
+<p>"Fainted again, has she?" said the good woman, grimly. "I knew she
+would. She's overdone, is Miss Wyn, and this here nonsense of Master
+Osmond's has been the finishing touch. Don't talk to me! He's no right
+to go off like that, nor to carry on like a madman because he's
+disappointed. But men are poor things, and he don't know nor care what
+he makes his sisters suffer. Here I comes down this morning to see Miss
+Wyn fainted dead off in the middle of all that rummage on the studio
+floor; and I can tell you, sir, it give me a turn, for I thought, from
+the state of the room, as somebody had been a-murdering of her. Dear,
+dear, she is dead off. I suppose you couldn't carry her upstairs, sir,
+could you?"</p>
+
+<p>"Half-a-dozen of her weight," said Henry, laconically.</p>
+
+<p>"My pretty dear, my lamb," said Sal, pushing up the heavy hair. "She do
+look ill, don't she, sir?"</p>
+
+<p>"Very," said Henry, speaking as well as he could for the lump in his
+throat. "I am horrified at her. Let me take her upstairs. You had better
+put her straight to bed."</p>
+
+<p>He lifted the unconscious girl in his strong, tender arms, and carried
+her up, directed by Sally, into the little room which was her own.
+Reluctantly he laid her down on the bed, looking with pitiful love upon
+the whiteness of the thin sweet face. How much would he have given to
+kiss the pure line of the pathetic mouth! How far away out of his reach
+she seemed, this pale, hard-working girl whom other men passed unnoticed
+by. One cold hand he lifted to his lips, and held it there lingeringly a
+moment.</p>
+
+<p>"Now," said he to Sally, "I will go and fetch the doctor, if you will
+direct me. She must have every care, and at once."</p>
+
+<p>From leaving a message with the doctor, he went straight to his hotel.</p>
+
+<p>The sudden rush of events had somewhat confused him, and he could not
+tell what was best to be done. It seemed no use to go hunting for
+Osmond, when his sisters did not possess the slightest clue to his
+whereabouts. Yet he had an uneasy conviction that it might go badly with
+Wynifred if it could not be proved that her brother was alive and safe,
+and he would cut off his right hand to serve her.</p>
+
+<p>Oh reaching his sitting-room, the fragrance of a cigar assailed his
+senses, and, not much to his surprise, he discovered Claud, ensconced in
+a deep arm-chair near the fire.</p>
+
+<p>"Just thinking of going to the police-station after you," said the young
+gentleman, composedly. "Thought you were lost in London."</p>
+
+<p>Henry did not answer. Approaching the fire, he slowly divested himself
+of his heavy overcoat and gloves. Claud, flashing a look at him, caught
+the expression of his face.</p>
+
+<p>"You take it too seriously, Fowler," said he.</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, I take it too seriously, do I? You know all about it, of course.
+After the intimacy which existed between you and Miss Allonby in the
+summer&mdash;after the exceptional circumstances which brought you together,
+you would naturally take a great interest in her, and go to see her
+frequently; but I hardly think you would be likely to say I took matters
+too seriously."</p>
+
+<p>"Fowler! Miss Allonby!"</p>
+
+<p>The young man sat forward, thoroughly startled, his cigar expiring
+unheeded between his fingers.</p>
+
+<p>"What do you mean?" he asked, breathlessly.</p>
+
+<p>"Mean? That I am disappointed in you, Cranmer. Yes, disappointed. I
+don't care in the least if I offend you, sir&mdash;I have passed beyond
+conventionalities. You have missed what should have been your
+goal&mdash;missed it by aimless trifling, by this accursed modern habit of
+introspection, of tearing a passion to tatters, of holding off and
+counting the cost of what you want to do, till the moment to do it has
+gone by. Sir, there comes an instant to every man in his life, when the
+only clean and honorable course is to go straight forward, even if that
+be to incur responsibility&mdash;why, in Heaven's name, tell me, are we not
+born to be responsible? Isn't that the pride of our manhood? Do you call
+yourself a man, living as you live now, without aim, without cares,
+getting through your life anyhow? It is the life of a cur, I tell
+you&mdash;ignoble, unmanly, base."</p>
+
+<p>"I am prepared to stand a good deal from you, Fowler," said Claud, very
+white, "but I will ask you kindly to explain yourself more fully."</p>
+
+<p>"You understand me well enough, lad," said the elder man, with a stern
+straight glance which somehow sent a consciousness of shortcoming into
+his victim's mind; "but, as I have taken upon myself to open this
+subject, I'll say out frankly all that's in my mind. Do you suppose
+blind chance took you to Edge Combe this summer? Do you suppose a mere
+accident placed near you such a woman as&mdash;I speak her name with all
+reverence&mdash;Wynifred Allonby? Now listen to me. She was no pretty,
+shallow girl, to catch the eye of any idle young fellow. Hers was a
+charm that only a few could feel; and, Claud, <i>you felt it</i>. Don't deny
+it, sir. You knew what she was; you could appreciate to its utmost the
+beauty of her mind, and the strange charm of her personality. Do you
+suppose it is for nothing that God Almighty gives such sympathy as that?
+Now hear me further. She needed you, she was lonely, she was poor. She
+wanted a man to stand between her and the world, to afford her
+opportunity to unfold the hidden tenderness that was in her, and give
+her a chance to be the gentle loving woman God meant her for. Was not
+your mission plain? Yet you would not read it&mdash;and why? For reasons
+which were one and all contemptible. I say downright contemptible. She
+was not rich, she was not precisely in your rank of society. Your
+self-indulgent selfishness winced at the prospect of a life of work for
+her sake. So you put aside the chance of an undreamed-of happiness which
+lay there clear before your eyes. And I say you should be made to feel
+it. Strip off all your self-delusions, all your sophistry, and tell me
+what you think of yourself, Claud Cranmer. Are you proud of your
+insight? Do you congratulate yourself upon your prudence? Faith, it's a
+marvel to me how few men read the purpose of their being aright. Why do
+you suppose women were made weak, but for us to be their strength? What
+calls out the very highest points in a man's nature but a woman's need
+of him? I say there was not one grace of Wynifred's that escaped you,
+not a word she uttered that had not power to influence you; yet you
+deliberately resisted that influence and strove to forget those graces.
+You are despicable in my eyes."</p>
+
+<p>The room rang with his low, tense tones. Flinging himself into a chair,
+he shaded his eyes with his powerful, work-hardened hand, and a long
+silence reigned.</p>
+
+<p>Claud did not move. His face looked stony as he stared into the fire. In
+the main, every word that Fowler uttered had been true; for, though in
+the last few days the young man's love had taken definite shape, yet the
+old habits of ease and carelessness had still held him back. The sudden
+rush of rugged eloquence had been like a flash of lightning, shivering
+delusions to fragments, and laying bare before him the manner in which
+he had dallied with the high possibilities offered him.</p>
+
+<p>The moments ticked on, and still he sat, not uttering a word. The other
+did not move from his position. Nothing moved in the room but the even
+pendulum of the clock. At last Claud nerved himself to speak.</p>
+
+<p>"Is Miss Allonby in trouble?" he said, in a constrained way, stooping as
+if to recover his cigar, but in reality to conceal the flush which
+accompanied his words.</p>
+
+<p>"She is ill. I found her alone, in bitter grief. Her brother has
+disappeared&mdash;they do not know where he has gone. It is in consequence of
+Elsa's engagement. She&mdash;Miss Allonby, is utterly over-strained. She
+fainted whilst I was there, and I went to call the doctor. You have
+heard my denunciation. Now hear my determination. I am going to try for
+the treasure you have tossed on one side."</p>
+
+<p>Claud started violently, and raised his eyes to those of his companion
+in astonishment.</p>
+
+<p>"Yes, you may well be astonished. I know I have not a chance, but what
+difference does that make? I know that, but for one thing, it would be
+intolerable presumption in me to dream of it; but hear me. She is lonely
+and unprotected&mdash;yet, she has a brother, I know, but see&mdash;the brother
+has ends of his own, he is an anxiety, not a helper. She has need of
+some one to stand between her and the bitter necessities of life. The
+long struggle is wearing out her youth. If I could take her"&mdash;the voice
+vibrated with intense feeling&mdash;"and put her down in my Devonshire
+valley, with sunshine and sweet air, and every care that love could
+devise, what a heaven it would be to see the color come in her white
+cheeks, and the natural bent of girlhood return with the removal of
+unnatural responsibility." He made an expressive gesture with his hand.
+"Look at my niece, Elsa! She has more money than she can spend, she has
+beauty of the sort all men rave over, all her life she will have dozens
+of adorers, she will never be in want of loyal slaves to obey her
+lightest behests. And yet, with all her beauty and money, she is not
+worth the little finger of one of those three Allonby girls. As for
+Wynifred" ... he paused for a moment, and cleared his throat, "she will
+not have me," he said. "She is too absolutely conscientious to marry
+where she does not love; yet I hope it may comfort her&mdash;a little&mdash;to
+know that one man would&mdash;not metaphorically but literally&mdash;die for her,
+that to one man her womanhood is a nobility no title could give, and her
+happiness the most fervent desire of his heart."</p>
+
+<p>He ceased abruptly. The feelings of his large heart were too deep for
+utterance. Another eloquent silence succeeded. Claud's face was hidden
+in both his hands. When he raised it, it was white and fixed.</p>
+
+<p>"Fowler," he said, "I can't stand this."</p>
+
+<p>He sprang to his feet spasmodically, pushed his hand up through his
+hair, then, thrusting both hands deep into his pockets, walked quickly
+across the room and back.</p>
+
+<p>"I suppose you don't expect me to stand on one side and let you take my
+chance?" he asked, between his teeth.</p>
+
+<p>Henry rose too, and faced him.</p>
+
+<p>"I don't know," said he, speaking with slow scorn, "why I should have
+told you my intention, except for the purpose of showing you how another
+man could prize what you hold so lightly. I have no fear of wounding
+you; a love which can shilly-shally as you have done is not worth the
+having&mdash;is not capable of being hurt. Perhaps my reproaches have
+galvanized it into a sort of life; but it will die again when the
+friction ceases."</p>
+
+<p>"You are unjust to me now," said Claud, sharply. "What you said at first
+was mainly true. I did not at once realize how deep it had gone, and,
+when I did, I tried to stop it&mdash;to turn my thoughts. But all that is
+past&mdash;was past before you spoke. My deliberate intention is, and has
+been for a month past, to tell Miss Allonby what I feel for her."</p>
+
+<p>"Then why have you not carried out your intention?"</p>
+
+<p>The young man was silent for a moment; at last:</p>
+
+<p>"Love makes a man modest," he said. "I was not sure she would have me."</p>
+
+<p>"And pray what does that matter? Are you prepared to risk nothing to
+obtain her? Lad, you don't know what love is or you would lay yourself
+at your lady's feet and feel yourself the better man for doing it, even
+though she sent you empty away. With such a woman as Wynifred, you know
+full well you need fear the taking of no undue advantage. In my eyes you
+are without excuse."</p>
+
+<p>"At all events, I am not too far sunk not to resent your language,"
+retorted Claud, angrily. "Are you going to offer yourself to Miss
+Allonby in the midst of her domestic trouble?"</p>
+
+<p>"Yes, certainly. I am no fancy lover to sing madrigals in my lady's
+bower. If I have any merit in her eyes, it shall be as one ready to help
+her in her hour of need. I can at least say to her, 'Here am I, my
+house, my lands, my money, all to be spent in your service; use them
+all, for they are freely yours.'"</p>
+
+<p>"And I," faltered Claud, in an undertone, "can only say, 'I have no
+house, no lands, no money; all I can offer is myself, and that I
+withheld as long as I could.' I congratulate you, Fowler. You ought to
+win in a canter."</p>
+
+<p>Henry laughed somewhat bitterly.</p>
+
+<p>"Ought I? Perhaps, if Miss Allonby were likely to be swayed by such
+considerations. But she will marry for love, and only for love. Claud,
+what makes me rail against you so is that I believe she loves you. You
+don't deserve it, but I am afraid she does. And you&mdash;if you do not value
+it as you should&mdash;&mdash;" he paused, for there was a knock at the door.
+"Come in," he said, irritably.</p>
+
+<p>A waiter brought in a telegram for Claud. Hastily scanning it the young
+man turned to his rival.</p>
+
+<p>"I am to bring you to dinner in Bruton Street," he said, after a pause.
+"I am afraid you must come. Percivale is to be there."</p>
+
+<p>"I will be ready in fifteen minutes," answered Henry; and he disappeared
+into the inner room.</p>
+
+<p>Claud stood gazing into the red embers in the grate with an awful
+sinking of the heart&mdash;a horrible depression he had never felt before.
+Now that he felt the possibility of losing Wynifred, he knew at last
+what his love was worth&mdash;knew that she was his life's one possibility of
+completion. Yet he had deserved to lose her.</p>
+
+<p>Resting his arms on the mantel-piece, he let his fair head fall
+disconsolately upon them.</p>
+
+<p>"My love, my dear," he whispered, "he is more worthy of you than I; and
+yet I believe that you belong to me&mdash;that I, with all my faults, could
+make you happier than he could. Choose me, Wynifred&mdash;my beloved, choose
+me!"</p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<h2>CHAPTER XLVI.</h2>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i12">To have her lion roll in a silken net,<br /></span>
+<span class="i12">And fawn at a victor's feet.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i24"><i>Maud.</i><br /></span>
+</div></div>
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+
+<p>The news from Mansfield Road next morning defeated for a time the
+designs of both the aspirants after Wynifred Allonby's hand.</p>
+
+<p>Ted Haldane had been able to bring a certain amount of comfort to Hilda
+and Jacqueline. He had been to Osmond's bankers, and found that the
+young man had that morning drawn out a considerable sum. This certainly
+seemed to negative any idea of suicidal intentions. But no further clue
+was forthcoming. The porter believed that Mr. Allonby, on leaving the
+bank, hailed a hansom and drove off; but even on this head he was by no
+means sure.</p>
+
+<p>It was the opinion, however, both of Henry Fowler and Mr. Haldane that
+Osmond would himself send news of his present whereabouts in a few days'
+time, when he had cooled down somewhat. But Wynifred was unable to
+derive comfort from the news, such as it was, for when she recovered
+from her long fainting-fit she was quite delirious. For the next few
+days the two poor girls had a time of terrible anxiety. The third
+morning brought a brief, reckless note from Osmond in Paris. It was
+merely to let them know that he was alive. He could not say when he was
+likely to return, or what he should do. He gave no address.</p>
+
+<p>No words could express the comfort which Mr. Fowler was able to afford
+the desolate girls. He saw that Wynifred had the best advice in London,
+and everything that money could procure; and when, in a week's time, the
+doctors were able to declare with confidence that the dreaded
+brain-fever had been averted, it was hard to tell who most rejoiced in
+the fact.</p>
+
+<p>Meantime, the engagement of Elsa to Mr. Percivale was publicly
+announced. The marriage was to take place immediately after Easter, and,
+as the young lady totally declined to be married in Devonshire, two of
+the Misses Willoughby were coming to town almost immediately to take a
+furnished house for a couple of months. After all, it was but natural
+that the girl should shrink from a place which had such terrible
+associations for her.</p>
+
+<p>Percivale sympathised entirely with her in this matter, as in
+everything. It was extraordinary for outsiders to watch the utter
+subjugation of his strong nature by the power of his love. Only one
+thing did certainly trouble him. His betrothed could not bear the quaint
+old dark house overlooking the river. It was exactly suited to the
+disposition of the young man who, as Claud said, always seemed to be
+trying to escape from his own century, somehow. He had improved the
+house, spent large sums of money upon it, and it was, indeed, the one
+spot in the modern roar of London wherein he felt entirely at home. His
+life of seclusion had, of course, rendered him shy. Going much into
+society was a trouble to him. But who wanted to find Elsa must needs go
+into society to seek her, and he thought she more than repaid the
+effort. Of course, if she found the house dull, it must be sold; but he
+had persuaded her graciously to consent to live in it for a few months
+first, just to try. Immediately on their marriage, he was going to take
+her to Schwannberg, that she might see the bursting of the glorious
+South German spring; but here again occurred a slight difference between
+them. He would have liked to linger, but this did not suit his bride.
+It would be dreadful, she urged, to waste these precious months cooped
+up in such a remote corner of the world. She must be in town by the
+middle of May, to have her first taste of a London season.</p>
+
+<p>This was a definite trial to Leon; but all his tastes were gradually
+undergoing such a complete revolution that he was willing on all
+occasions to think himself in the wrong. When first Elsa had fixedly
+declared that a month was the longest honeymoon she would suffer, the
+idea had greatly ruffled him. They had parted in much offence on the
+lady's part, and some unhappiness on the gentleman's.</p>
+
+<p>Next day he presented himself with a mixture of feelings at Burton
+Street. Fate was propitious. Lady Mabel was out at a calisthenic class
+with her children and the governess. Elsa was alone in the boudoir,
+attired in a tea-gown of delicate silk, and seated near the fire with a
+little sick terrier of his which she had undertaken to doctor. At her
+lover's entrance she half looked up, then turned slowly away and devoted
+her attention to the dog. Percivale stood in the doorway, his hand on
+the lock, his fine head thrown back.</p>
+
+<p>"May I come in?" he asked.</p>
+
+<p>"Pray do," said a small and frigid voice.</p>
+
+<p>He closed the door and came forward, his daily offering of flowers in
+his hand. Pausing before her&mdash;</p>
+
+<p>"Are you angry with me, Elsa?" he asked, miserably.</p>
+
+<p>"I thought <i>you</i> were angry with <i>me</i>," she said, in low and injured
+tones.</p>
+
+<p>"My darling, no." He knelt down beside her. "Only I was a little
+disappointed to think&mdash;to think that you would not be happy alone with
+me&mdash;&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>She shot a shy glance at him from beneath her heavy lashes.</p>
+
+<p>"I do not know you very well yet," said she softly.</p>
+
+<p>"Are you afraid of me, Elsa?"</p>
+
+<p>A suggestive pause, during which he hung breathless on every change
+which swept over the lovely face.</p>
+
+<p>"I do not quite understand you," faltered she at last.</p>
+
+<p>"I only plead to be allowed to explain myself," he murmured. "What is
+it, love? I am so unused to women, you must be good to me, and help me,
+and forgive me if I am not gentle enough. What is it you do not
+understand?"</p>
+
+<p>"Is our honeymoon only to last as long as our wedding journey?" slowly
+asked the girl. "Will you not love me as well in London as in Tyrol?
+Will you change when that little month is over? For me, I shall love you
+as dearly, wherever we are."</p>
+
+<p>"My beloved!" he flung his arm about her in a rapture; for Miss
+Brabourne, as a rule, was very wisely sparing of her professions of
+attachment. "You are right&mdash;I was wrong. Our honeymoon will last for
+ever&mdash;what matters where we spend it?"</p>
+
+<p>"That was what I thought&mdash;no, Leon, you must not kiss me again&mdash;once is
+quite enough. Be good and listen to me while I talk to you a little."</p>
+
+<p>She passed her arm round his neck as he knelt, and, with her other hand,
+pushed up the soft curling rings of his bright hair. He closed his eyes
+with rapture as he felt the touch.</p>
+
+<p>"You say," said Elsa, stroking softly, "that you do not care for
+society, that you dislike London in the season."</p>
+
+<p>"And that is true, my own&mdash;&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>"Now, how do you know? Have you tried society?"</p>
+
+<p>"No, never. I have always avoided it!"</p>
+
+<p>"And how many seasons have you been through?"</p>
+
+<p>"Not one."</p>
+
+<p>"There, you see! Now, Leon, look at me!" Daintily placing a finger
+beneath his chin, she turned his face up to hers. "Is it fair to say you
+dislike a thing you have never tried? How can you tell beforehand? Is it
+not, perhaps, a little wee bit selfish of you?"</p>
+
+<p>"Yes, it is," promptly replied he. "I am a brute, my darling."</p>
+
+<p>"No, but you had not thought. I think, perhaps, if I&mdash;if I had a wife;
+and if I were foolish enough to be very proud of her, as you are of poor
+little me, that I should be pleased for people to see her, and to see
+how happy I made her&mdash;and to let all the world know that I loved her
+so&mdash;and&mdash;and&mdash;oh, Leon, you are laughing at me," and, with a burst of
+childish merriment, she hid her face in his neck.</p>
+
+<p>"Elsa," cried her lover, as soon as he could speak coherently, "my life,
+do as you like, go where you will&mdash;if you please yourself you please me!
+I live to make your happiness, mind that!"</p>
+
+<p>This was merely a specimen of the way in which Elsa carried her points.
+Percivale was a mere child in her hands; she had a knack of making
+others feel themselves in the wrong, which was little short of genius.</p>
+
+<p>Her presentation was a triumph. London was unanimous in pronouncing her
+undeniably the beauty of the year; and her engagement to the mysterious
+Percivale, as well as the romantic story of their first meeting,
+surrounded them both with a perfect blaze of interest. Nothing else was
+talked of. The marriage would be the event of the season. The world was
+more than ever anxious to know more of the owner of the <i>Swan</i>.</p>
+
+<p>"Miss Brabourne has never asked you anything about your belongings, has
+she?" asked Claud one day of Percivale.</p>
+
+<p>"Never. She has not alluded to the subject."</p>
+
+<p>"Take my advice," said Claud, "and don't volunteer that information
+which you mentioned to me."</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, I must. I shall tell her everything when we are married. I have all
+along determined on that."</p>
+
+<p>"People are so busy with your name, that it occurs to me that you are
+saddling a young girl with a great responsibility in giving her such a
+secret to keep."</p>
+
+<p>Percivale smiled.</p>
+
+<p>"Cranmer, are you in love?" he asked.</p>
+
+<p>"Yes, I am. Why?" said Claud, bluntly.</p>
+
+<p>The other looked surprised.</p>
+
+<p>"Well," he said, "you have not honored me with your confidence; and it
+is quite new to me to hear that you are; but to the point. Would you not
+trust the woman of your choice with any secret?"</p>
+
+<p>Claud hesitated a moment.</p>
+
+<p>"Well, to be honest," said he at last, "yes. I certainly should."</p>
+
+<p>"Should you not think it an insult to her to hold her debarred from the
+innermost recesses of your mind?"</p>
+
+<p>"Undoubtedly I should."</p>
+
+<p>"Well! Do you expect me to feel differently?"</p>
+
+<p>Claud had no more to say. His own state of mind in these days was one of
+deep depression.</p>
+
+<p>Henry Fowler had been obliged to leave town directly. Wynifred was
+announced to be convalescent; and, two days after his departure, Miss
+Ellen Willoughby had written to ask Hilda to bring her sister down to
+Edge Willoughby as soon as ever she was strong enough to travel, there
+to remain as long as she pleased, and grow strong in the soft sea air.</p>
+
+<p>Claud's only comfort was in calling every day at Mansfield Road for
+news, and now and then leaving a basket of grapes or some flowers from
+his sister; but he could never gain admittance to see Wynifred, though
+his face, as he once or twice made a faltering petition, went to Hilda's
+heart. His suspense was costing him a great deal, as was manifest from
+his countenance of settled gloom, his pale face, and the purple marks
+under his eyes.</p>
+
+<p>Lady Mabel received a shock one day.</p>
+
+<p>"Claud," said she, "I have been most astonished. Lady Alice Alison has
+been calling, and she tells me that the youngest Miss Allonby is going
+to marry one of the Haldanes of Eldersmain. I suppose I shall have to
+call; and she tells me also that their father was a colonel, and a
+nephew of Lord Dovedale. It is rather annoying; we ought to have known
+that before."</p>
+
+<p>"Why?" asked Claud, aggressively.</p>
+
+<p>"Why? Because I ought to have been told&mdash;I should have shown them more
+civility."</p>
+
+<p>"Why, what do you know of the Dovedales?"</p>
+
+<p>"Nothing, personally; but they are in society."</p>
+
+<p>"Well? Are not the Allonbys in society?"</p>
+
+<p>"Claud, how idiotic you can be when you like."</p>
+
+<p>"It is a matter of necessity, not choice, my sister. My brain never did
+work as fast as yours. But the speed of yours is abnormal. However, I
+should not lay myself open to a snub by calling in Mansfield Road now."</p>
+
+<p>"Why?"</p>
+
+<p>"Because, if they have any pride, and I fancy they have a good deal,
+they will not return your call."</p>
+
+<p>"Claud! Not return my call?"</p>
+
+<p>"I think not. They are very stiff with me."</p>
+
+<p>"That is just because I have not called."</p>
+
+<p>"And now you are ready to do so on the strength of their great-uncle
+having been in 'Debrett,' Mab. I thought you were beyond that sort of
+thing."</p>
+
+<p>"If it is being in love that makes you so unpleasant, my good boy, I do
+hope you will soon get over it."</p>
+
+<p>"Get over it. You talk as if it was measles. Does one get over these
+things? But, if you find my company irksome, I can go to Portland Place,
+you know."</p>
+
+<p>"Don't be offended; only you have been so terribly in the dumps lately.
+Why don't you propose, and have done with it?"</p>
+
+<p>"I am waiting for leave," said Claud, with a laugh which ended in a
+sigh, as he hurriedly left the room.</p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<h2>CHAPTER XLVII.</h2>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i12">A man may love a woman perfectly,<br /></span>
+<span class="i12">And yet by no means ignorantly maintain<br /></span>
+<span class="i12">A thousand women have not larger eyes;<br /></span>
+<span class="i12">Enough that she alone has looked at him<br /></span>
+<span class="i12">With eyes that, large or small, have won his soul.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i24"><i>Aurora Leigh.</i><br /></span>
+</div></div>
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+
+<p>Elsa Brabourne had been transformed into Elsa Percivale with the
+assistance of two bishops and a dean. Drawings of her <i>trousseau</i> and of
+her bridesmaids' dresses had appeared in the ladies' newspapers. Her
+aunts had given a reception to about a hundred people of whom they had
+never heard before, and who, in return, had presented the bride with
+much costly rubbish which she did not want; and at last Leon had carried
+off his wife, in an ultra-fashionable tailor-made travelling dress, to
+Folkestone <i>en route</i> for the Continent and Schwannberg.</p>
+
+<p>Claud Cranmer had officiated, somewhat gloomily as best man at this
+wedding, the courtship of which had been so romantic, the realization so
+entirely Philistine.</p>
+
+<p>All the technicality and elaboration of this modern London ceremony had
+been most trying to Percivale, who, as has been said, hated coming
+before the public as a central figure; and, at this particular marriage,
+the mysterious bridegroom had, contrary to custom, attracted quite as
+much notice as the lovely bride.</p>
+
+<p>The young man was beginning dimly to realize that Claud had spoken truly
+when he said that life now-a-days could be neither a dream nor an ideal.
+There seemed so much that was commonplace and technical to take the
+bloom off his romance. He literally panted for his Bavarian home&mdash;for
+foaming river, wide lake, rugged steep, glittering horizon of
+snow-peaked Alps in which to realize the happiness that he so fervently
+anticipated. As to Elsa's mental state on her wedding-day, it must be
+owned that, when the excitement was over&mdash;when the admiring crowds were
+left behind, and she found herself alone with her husband, she was a
+good deal frightened. She did not understand him in the least. Her
+nature was so utterly devoid of the least spark of romance or sentiment
+that she could not interpret his thoughts or his desires. There was a
+still firmness about him which awed her. Docile as he was, subjugated as
+he was, there yet had been times during their short engagement when she
+experienced great uneasiness. Chief of these was the evening when he
+heard of Osmond Allonby's disappearance. There had been something then
+in the low, repressed intensity of his manner which had made her quail.</p>
+
+<p>True, she had been able to change his mood in a moment. A couple of her
+easily-shed tears, lying on her eye-lashes, had brought him to his knees
+in an agony of repentance. But still there remained always in her mind a
+kind of rankling conviction that her lover expected of her something
+which she could not give, because she did not know what it was. When
+Percivale gave rein to the poetic side of his nature, and talked of
+sympathies, of high aims, of beauty in one's daily life, he spoke to
+deaf ears. Vaguely she comforted herself with the reflection that this
+would last only for a little while. Men had a way of talking like that
+when they were in love; but, while it lasted, it give her a feeling of
+discomfort. She could never be at her ease whilst she was in a state of
+such uncertainty; for uncertainty begets fear.</p>
+
+<p>Her depression was increased by the serious words which her godfather
+had spoken to her on her wedding-morning. She hated to be spoken to
+seriously. It was like being scolded&mdash;it carried her back to the unloved
+memories of her dull childhood. Why could he not have given her her gold
+necklace with a gay declaration that most jewels adorned a white neck,
+but that in her case the neck would adorn the jewel&mdash;or some other such
+speech&mdash;the kind to which her ears were now daily accustomed.</p>
+
+<p>Why did he think it necessary to entreat her never to allow her husband
+to be disappointed in her? Was it likely that any man could ever be
+disappointed in her? It seemed more probable that she might one day come
+to feel bored by him, handsome and eligible though he was.</p>
+
+<p>Somehow, being engaged to him had not quite fulfilled her expectations.
+More than once she had felt&mdash;not exactly consciously, but none the less
+really&mdash;that she was more in touch with Captain St. Quentin, or others
+of the well-born ordinary young men of the day who formed her set, than
+with the idealist Leon. He was a creature from another sphere, his
+thoughts and aims were different, she knew; and, as her own inclinations
+became daily more clearly defined, she could not help feeling that they
+grew daily more unlike his.</p>
+
+<p>"But she is so young, he will be able to mould her," said Claud,
+hopefully to himself. He guessed, more clearly than any one else, that
+Percivale was mismated; and foresaw with a dim foreboding that a bad
+time was in store for him when he should discover the fact; but, on his
+friend's wedding-day, he would not be a skeleton at the feast. He was
+willing to hope for the best.</p>
+
+<p>Slowly he turned from the shoe-flinging and rice-scattering which formed
+the tag-end of the wedding. Leon's face haunted him. The expression of
+it, as he spoke the oath which bound him to Elaine, had been so intense,
+so holy in the purity of its chivalrous devotion, that it had awed and
+impressed even the crowd of frivolous triflers who lounged and chatted
+in the church, whispering scandal, and criticizing each other's
+appearance as others like them did at Romney Leigh's wedding. There was
+in fact something about this day which recalled the poem forcibly to
+Claud's mind: not, of course, the ghastly <i>d�nouement</i>, but the
+character of the man, the same loftiness of aim, the same terrible
+earnestness in its view of life.</p>
+
+<p>Something, too, about his friend's farewell had struck him with a
+sadness for which he could scarcely account.</p>
+
+<p>A little, trifling slip of Percivale's tongue, dwelt in his memory in a
+manner altogether disproportionate. In the hurry and bustle of the
+departure, as he grasped Claud's hand, instead of saying, "Good-bye," as
+he meant to, Leon had said, "Good-night."</p>
+
+<p>He was unconscious of it himself, and in an absent way he had repeated
+it, in that still voice which always seemed to convey so much meaning.</p>
+
+<p>"Good-night, Claud, good-night."</p>
+
+<p>Now that he was gone, the words rang in Cranmer's ears, as Romney's
+words lingered in Aurora's. As he turned back into the house and slowly
+went upstairs, he was repeating softly to himself the line,</p>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">"And all night long I thought <i>Good-night</i>," said he.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+<p>Walking into the drawing-room with its showy display of wedding-gifts,
+its fading flowers and vacant, desolate aspect, he was confronted by
+Henry Fowler.</p>
+
+<p>They had hardly spoken before, as Henry had only arrived in town late
+the preceding night. Now they stood face to face, and the elder man was
+painfully struck by the haggard aspect of the younger.</p>
+
+<p>Wynifred Allonby had now been for some weeks at Edge Willoughby, and his
+only way of hearing of her was from the two Misses Willoughby who were
+in town, for the little house in Mansfield Road was shut up. Hilda was
+with her sister in Devonshire, Jacqueline staying with her future
+relations, Osmond still in Paris, his address unknown, his letters few
+and unsatisfactory.</p>
+
+<p>"Well?" said Mr. Fowler, interrogatively.</p>
+
+<p>"Well," said Claud, defiantly, "I am glad to have the chance of speaking
+to you, Fowler. I will begin with putting a straight question. Are you
+engaged to&mdash;to Miss Allonby?"</p>
+
+<p>"No, lad; that question is soon answered. She will not see me."</p>
+
+<p>"Well, then, I give you fair warning, I am coming down to the Combe. I
+can bear this suspense no longer."</p>
+
+<p>"Come as soon as you will, and stay as long as you can; but she will not
+see you. She will see nobody. She seems well, they say; her strength is
+coming back, she can walk, and eats pretty well; but she is sadly
+changed, her pretty sister tells me. She does not seem to care to talk.
+She will sit silent for hours, and they are afraid she does not sleep.
+She will go nowhere and speak to no one. If you call upon her, she will
+decline to see you."</p>
+
+<p>"I shall not give her the chance to decline or to consent. I shall
+insist upon seeing her," said Claud, calmly. "Fowler, some words you
+said to me that night at the Langham have been with me ever since:
+'There comes a time to every man when the only clean and honorable
+course is to go straight forward.' I have passed beyond that. For me
+now, the only <i>possible</i> course is to go straight forward. I <i>will</i> see
+and speak to her, if only to ask a forgiveness from her. I have piled on
+the sack-cloth and ashes this Lent, Fowler. I have found out at last
+what I really am; and for a time the knowledge simply crushed me. But
+now I am beginning to struggle up. I have grown to believe in the truth
+of the saying that men may rise on stepping-stones of their dead selves
+to higher things. If&mdash;if I could have <i>her</i> for my own, I honestly think
+I might yet be a useful man. Now you know my intentions, sir, as well as
+I know them myself. You can't be mad enough to ask such a declared rival
+down to stay with you."</p>
+
+<p>"Mad or sane, I must have you to stay with me. Can you start to-morrow?"</p>
+
+<p>"With the best heart in the world; but, Fowler, I don't understand you."</p>
+
+<p>"See here, lad. I trust Miss Allonby entirely. She will not have you if
+she does not love you; and if she does love you, I am willing she should
+have you, for my life's aim is her happiness, whether she find it in me
+or in another man. Ah! you are young; no wonder you think me mad. Time
+was when I should have felt, as you do now, that the thing was a blind
+necessity, that either she and I must come together, or the world must
+end for me. In those days there was a woman,"&mdash;he halted a moment, then
+went on serenely, "there was a woman made for me. I was the only man to
+make her happy; but she chose another. It was then I knew what
+desolation meant. Now I can feel tenderness but not passion. I can wish
+for Wynifred's happiness more fervently than I desire my own; I do not
+feel, as you feel, that her happiness and mine are one and the self-same
+thing. Yours is the love that should overcome, I am sure of that, now.
+It is the love that will tear down barriers and uproot obstructions; the
+only love a man should dare to lay at the feet of a woman like Wynifred
+Allonby."</p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<h2>CHAPTER XLVIII.</h2>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i12">Write woman's verses, and dream woman's dreams:<br /></span>
+<span class="i12">But let me feel your perfume in my home,<br /></span>
+<span class="i12">To make my sabbath after working-days.<br /></span>
+<span class="i12">Bloom out your youth beside me,&mdash;be my wife.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i24"><i>Aurora Leigh.</i><br /></span>
+</div></div>
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+
+<p>Wynifred stood idly at the window.</p>
+
+<p>It was a lovely day&mdash;one of those real spring days which we in England
+so rarely enjoy&mdash;perhaps one, perhaps half-a-dozen in the whole year. A
+brief interlude in the east wind's unfailing rigor; a breathing time
+when the black shadows leave the land and color begins to dawn over
+copse and meadow. The sea-ward slopes of the valley were beginning to
+grow green. The borders of the garden were purple and gold with
+crocuses, and sweet with violets.</p>
+
+<p>Hilda had yesterday brought in a sumptuous handful of Lent lilies from
+the woods, lighting up the room like a flash of condensed sunlight.
+There were countless ripples on the sea, a breath of life and spring in
+the warm air. The birds were twittering and building, and the long
+hazel-blooms fell in pale gold and crimson tassels on the pathway. Miss
+Ellen lay on her sofa, anxiously watching the silent pale girl at the
+window.</p>
+
+<p>They were alone. Hilda was out riding with Henry Fowler.</p>
+
+<p>Miss Ellen had been watching the clock, wondering how long Wynifred
+would remain speechless and in the same position if left to herself.
+When the silence had lasted more than fifty minutes, she felt it
+unbearable.</p>
+
+<p>"Wynifred, my dear, a penny for your thoughts," said she.</p>
+
+<p>Wyn started violently, and faced slowly round. Her eyes wore a dull
+look, as if she was not quite fully awake.</p>
+
+<p>"I don't think I was thinking of anything in particular," said she,
+sitting down listlessly and taking up her work, which lay on a table
+near. Miss Ellen watched her keenly, as she turned the embroidery this
+way and that, smoothed it with her hand, threaded a needle with silk as
+if she felt that some pretence of employment was necessary, but, after
+five minutes' spasmodic working, let it drop idly in her lap, leaned
+back in her chair, and again became apathetic.</p>
+
+<p>It was disheartening indeed to watch her.</p>
+
+<p>Miss Ellen recalled the energetic, slender Wynifred of last summer, with
+her eager, vivid interest in everything, her ready tongue, her gay
+laugh, her quick fingers.</p>
+
+<p>How could the girl tell at what precise amount of work she would have to
+stop short? How should she recognise the signs of overfatigue? To spur
+herself on had been her only care,&mdash;to check her cravings for rest and
+leisure, as something to be crushed down and despised.</p>
+
+<p>Now she was like a clock with damaged works. If you shook her, she would
+go fitfully for a few minutes, and then relapse into her former
+lethargy.</p>
+
+<p>Of course, the completeness of her breakdown had been greatly aggravated
+by her own private unhappiness, and by the terrible trouble of her
+brother's total inability to stand up against his reverse of fortune. It
+seemed as if the consciousness of Osmond's utter weakness had sapped all
+her strength, had struck away her last prop. From such a depth of
+sickness and depression, she would, naturally take some time to
+re-ascend. Miss Ellen comforted herself with the thought that her cure
+must be gradual, but she could not feel that it had yet so much as
+begun.</p>
+
+<p>Wynifred could not be made to talk on any subject except the sun, the
+flowers, the chough, the villagers, or some such indifferent theme. To
+talk about books made her head ache, she said, and she never put pen to
+paper. Hilda had now and then tried her, by casually leaving writing
+materials about in the room where she sat; but, alone or in company, she
+never touched them.</p>
+
+<p>She spoke of no one and asked after no one but Osmond, and of him she
+would now and then speak, though never mentioning Elsa, or anyone else
+connected with the episodes preceding her illness.</p>
+
+<p>Miss Ellen watched her daily with a tenderness and penetration which
+were touching to behold. The whole of her gentle heart went out to the
+girl, the deepest depth of whose malady she hardly guessed. She had an
+idea that what was wanted was the sight of some thing or person vividly
+recalling the trouble, whatever it was, which had made such an
+impression. She believed that a moment of excitement, even if painful,
+would break up the dull crust of indifference, and bring relief, even if
+it should flow in tears. But she had not clue enough to go upon in order
+to bring such a thing about; and Hilda was profoundly ignorant of her
+sister's secretly-cherished love-affair.</p>
+
+<p>"Wynifred," said Miss Ellen.</p>
+
+<p>The girl looked up quickly.</p>
+
+<p>"It is such a lovely day, dear; why don't you go for a walk?"</p>
+
+<p>"I did not like to leave you, Miss Willoughby; not that I am very
+enlivening company."</p>
+
+<p>"You will be much more enlivening if you can bring me news of the
+primroses beginning to bloom in the woods. Get your hat and be off,
+bring back a pair of pink cheeks and an appetite, or you won't be
+admitted."</p>
+
+<p>Wynifred rose slowly and folded her work. Painfully Miss Ellen recalled
+words that Henry Fowler had spoken last year as he watched the blithe
+young company out at tea on the terrace:&mdash;Elsa, the Allonbys, young
+Haldane, and Claud Cranmer.</p>
+
+<p>"How those Allonby girls do enjoy themselves!" he had said.</p>
+
+<p>Their enjoyment was infectious, it was so spontaneous, so fresh. The
+change was acute.</p>
+
+<p>"What is to be done with her?" pondered Miss Willoughby, as the girl
+went out, apathetically closing the door behind her.</p>
+
+<p>Hardly knowing why, Wynifred chose the road that led inland, along the
+further side of the valley, to Poole Farm.</p>
+
+<p>Had Miss Ellen only known how inwardly active was the mind that
+outwardly seemed almost dormant! All yesterday the bells had been
+clashing from the little church in honor of Elsa's wedding. In fancy the
+girl had gone through the whole ceremony&mdash;had seen Claud attending his
+friend Percivale to church, in his capacity of best man. To-day it
+seemed as if the bells were still ringing, ringing on in her head until
+she felt dizzy and unnerved.</p>
+
+<p>Why could she not expel unwelcome thoughts and order herself back to
+work, as heretofore? No use. She had taxed her self-control once too
+often, and stretched it too far. It had snapped. There was no power in
+her.</p>
+
+<p>"There was a time," she thought, "when I could have saved myself. At the
+Miles' ball I was comparatively free&mdash;I could take an intelligent
+interest in other things. Why&mdash;oh, <i>why</i> was he sent there to force me
+to begin all over again?"</p>
+
+<p>Lost in reverie, she wandered on until she found herself opposite the
+spot where Saul Parker had attacked Osmond.</p>
+
+<p>There was a fallen tree lying on the grass at the other side of the
+lane, and, overcome with many memories, she sat down upon it. Here it
+was that she and Claud had exchanged their first flash of sympathy, when
+strolling back to Poole together in the summer twilight. Closing her
+eyes, she rested her brow on her two hands, as she lived again through
+the experiences of those days.</p>
+
+<p>What was this strange weight which seemed to make her unable to rise, or
+to think, or to cast off her abiding depression? Had there really been a
+time when she, Wynifred, had possessed a mind stored with graceful
+fancies, and a pen to give them to the world?</p>
+
+<p>That was over for ever now. Her literary career was stopped, she told
+herself in her despair; and when her money came to an end she must
+starve, for her capacity for work was gone. Yet all around her was the
+subtle air of spring, instinct with that vague, indescribable hope and
+desire which sometimes shakes our very being for five minutes or so,
+suddenly, on an April day, however prosaic and middle-aged we may be.
+She did not weep, her trouble was too dull, too chronic for tears.</p>
+
+<p>She sat on, idly gazing at the farm-house windows and at the flight of
+the building rooks about the tall elms, till a footstep close beside her
+made her turn her head; and Claud Cranmer stood in the lane, not ten
+paces from her, his hat in his hand, his eyes fixed on her face.</p>
+
+<p>For a moment his figure and the landscape surrounding it swam before her
+eyes, and then, in a flash, the woman's dignity and pride sprang up anew
+in her heart and she was ready to meet him. All the feeling, the force
+of being which, since her illness, had been in abeyance, started up
+full-grown in a moment at sight of him. She knew she was alive, for she
+knew that she suffered&mdash;as poignantly, as really as ever; and for the
+moment she almost hailed the pain with rapture, because it was a sign of
+life.</p>
+
+<p>She must take his outstretched hand, she must control her voice to
+speak to him. She was childishly pleased to find that her strength rose
+with her need&mdash;that she could do both quite rationally. She did not rise
+from her log. As soon as Claud saw that she was conscious of his
+presence, he came up to her with hand extended, and, in another moment,
+hers was resting in his hungry clasp.</p>
+
+<p>He was more unnerved than she. His heart seemed beating in his throat,
+his love and tenderness and shame were all struggling together, so that
+for a few minutes, he was dumb; the sight of her had been so
+overpowering.</p>
+
+<p>They had told him not to be shocked&mdash;to expect to find her greatly
+altered; but they had not calculated on the instantaneous effect of his
+appearance on her. Thin indeed she was&mdash;almost wasted&mdash;her eyes
+unnaturally large and hollow. But the expression was as vivid, as
+fascinating as ever, the color burnt in her cheeks&mdash;it was merely an
+ethereal version of his own Wynifred, inspiring him with an idea of
+fragility which made him wild with pity.</p>
+
+<p>She spoke first&mdash;her own voice, so unlike that of any other woman he had
+ever known.</p>
+
+<p>"I did not expect to see you," she said. "Are you staying with Mr.
+Fowler?"</p>
+
+<p>"No. I came down yesterday."</p>
+
+<p>Her hand, which seemed so small&mdash;like nothing, as it lay in his own&mdash;was
+gently withdrawn.</p>
+
+<p>"You have brought spring weather with you," said she, quietly.</p>
+
+<p>"It is beautiful to-day," he answered, neither knowing nor caring what
+he said. "May I sit down and talk a&mdash;a little? It is&mdash;it is&mdash;a long time
+since I saw you last."</p>
+
+<p>He seated himself beside her on the log, hoping that the beating of his
+heart was not loud enough for her to overhear. He could hardly realize
+that he had accomplished so much&mdash;that they were seated, at last,
+together, "With never a third, but each by each as each knew well,"&mdash;and
+with a future made up of a few moments&mdash;a present so intensified that it
+blotted out all past experience; a kind of foretaste of the "everlasting
+minute" of immortality, such as is now and then granted to the
+time-encumbered soul.</p>
+
+<p>Whether the pause, the hush which was the prelude to the drama, lasted
+one moment or ten he could not say. He was conscious, presently, of an
+uneasy stirring of the girl at his side.</p>
+
+<p>"I think I ought to be walking home," said she.</p>
+
+<p>"Not yet; I have not half enjoyed the view," said he, decidedly.</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, please do not disturb yourself," she faltered, breathlessly, as she
+made a movement to rise, "I can go home alone&mdash;I would rather&mdash;&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>"So you told me the last time we parted, and, like a fool and a coward,
+I let you go. I am wiser now. You must stay."</p>
+
+<p>She had lifted up her gloves to put them on. Taking her hands in his, he
+gently pulled away the gloves, and obliged her to resume her seat. She
+began to tremble.</p>
+
+<p>"Mr. Cranmer&mdash;you must let me go. I&mdash;am not strong yet&mdash;I cannot bear
+it. Oh, please go and leave me. I cannot talk to you."</p>
+
+<p>The words were wrung from her. Feebly she strove to draw her hands out
+of his warm clasp, but he held them firmly.</p>
+
+<p>"The reason I followed you here was because they told me you would
+refuse to see me if you could," he said calmly. He had regained his
+composure now, and his quiet manner soothed her. "I was quite determined
+to see you. I came down to Edge for that reason alone. It is merely a
+question of time. If you will not listen to me to-day, you must
+to-morrow. I have something which I <i>will</i> say to you. Choose when you
+will hear it."</p>
+
+<p>"Is it&mdash;is it about Osmond?" she said, feverishly.</p>
+
+<p>"About Osmond? No, it has nothing to do with him," said Claud, rather
+resentfully. "It is only about me."</p>
+
+<p>She was silent for a long moment, gazing straight before her with a
+strange, wild excitement growing in her heart. At last, with one final
+effort at self-mastery, she deliberately lifted her eyes to his. "About
+you?" she said faintly.</p>
+
+<p>"About you and me," he answered.</p>
+
+<p>She made an ineffectual struggle, half-rose, looked this way and that,
+as if for flight, then sank back again into her place, in absolute
+surrender.</p>
+
+<p>"Say it," she whispered, almost inaudibly.</p>
+
+<p>"Wynifred," he said, his voice taking from his emotion a thrill which
+she felt in the innermost recesses of her heart. "I have a confession
+to make to you&mdash;a confession of fraud. Pity me. Perhaps the confession
+will deprive me of your friendship for ever; but I must speak. There is
+something in my possession which belongs to you&mdash;it has been yours for
+nearly a year. You ought to have had it long ago. I have kept it back
+from you all these months. Do you think you can forgive me?"</p>
+
+<p>She gazed at him uncomprehending.</p>
+
+<p>"Something of mine? A letter?" said she.</p>
+
+<p>"No, not a letter." It was exquisite, this interview; he could have
+prayed to prolong it for weeks. He held her attention now, as well as
+her hands; he felt inclined to be deliberate. "It is worth nothing, or
+very little, this thing in question," he went on. "You may not care for
+it&mdash;you may utterly decline to have it&mdash;you may tell me that it is
+worthless in your eyes, and throw it back to me in scorn. But, since it
+is yours, I feel that I must just lay it before you, to take or leave.
+It has been yours for so long, that I think that very fact has made it
+rather less good-for-nothing, and, Wynifred, it has in it the capacity
+for growth. If you would take it and keep it, there is no telling what
+you might make of it."</p>
+
+<p>"I do not understand," cried Wynifred.</p>
+
+<p>"You do not understand why your own was not given to you before?" he
+asked, softly. "That is the shameful part of the story. I kept it back
+only for mean and contemptible reasons; because I was afraid to give it
+absolutely into your keeping, not knowing certainly whether you would
+care to have it. But I have been shown that this was not honest. Whether
+you will have it or not, my dearest, I must show my heart to you, I must
+implore you to take it, to forgive its imperfections, to count as its
+one merit that it is all your own. It is myself, my beloved, who am at
+your feet. My life, my hopes, my love, are all yours, and have been for
+so long.... Can you forget that I withheld them when they were not mine
+to keep? Can you forgive that they are so poor, so imperfect, so
+unworthy?"</p>
+
+<p>She had given a little cry when first the meaning of his riddle became
+apparent to her, and, snatching away one hand, had covered her face with
+it.</p>
+
+<p>All the Irish fervor and poetry of Claud's nature was kindled. He was no
+backward lover,&mdash;the words rushed to his lips, he knew not how.</p>
+
+<p>Determinedly he put his arm round his love as she sat, speaking with his
+lips close to her ear.</p>
+
+<p>"Wyn," he said, with that sweetness of voice and manner which had first
+won her heart. "Wyn, I'll give you no option. You are mine; you know it.
+I deserve punishment; but don't punish me, dear, for I tell you you
+can't be happy without me, any more than I without you. Is that
+presumption? I think not,&mdash;I believe it's insight. There are times, you
+know, when one seems to push away all the manners and customs of the
+day, and my heart just cries out to yours that we are made for one
+another. My own, just look at me a minute, and tell me if that isn't
+so."</p>
+
+<p>Drawing her closer to him, he gently pulled away her hand from her eyes
+and made her look at him.</p>
+
+<p>"Is it true? Dare you contradict me, sweetheart?" he said, tenderly.
+"Don't you belong to me?"</p>
+
+<p>The authoress could find no eloquent reply. No words would obey the
+bidding of her feelings. With her head at rest at last on her lover's
+heart, like the veriest bread-and-butter miss, she could only murmur a
+bald, bare, "Yes,&mdash;I&mdash;I think so."</p>
+
+<p>"You think so, do you, my love?" he said, ecstatically. "Tell me what
+makes you think so, then, sweet?"</p>
+
+<p>She closed her eyes, and, lifting her arm, she laid it round his neck
+with a sigh of bliss.</p>
+
+<p>"I&mdash;can't," said she, weakly.</p>
+
+<p>It sounds very inadequate, but the fact remains that this entire want of
+vocabulary in the usually self-possessed and ready Wynifred was the
+highest possible charm in the eyes of her lover. To his unutterable
+delight, he found that his very loftiest dream was realised. He himself
+was the great want of the girl's life. He comforted her. She was able at
+once to let go the burden of care and sorrow she had borne so long, and
+to rest herself utterly in his love. The expression on her white face
+was that of perfect rest. Her soul had found its true goal. Claud and
+she were in the centre of the labyrinth at last. Above them on the
+hillside stood the grey farm, still and lonely in the sunlight as it had
+stood for more than three centuries. Never had it looked on purer
+happiness than that of these two obscure and poorly-endowed mortals who
+yet felt themselves rich indeed in the consciousness of mutual sympathy.</p>
+
+<p>The air was musical with streams, the stir of spring mixed subtly with
+their joy. This betrothal needed no pomp of circumstance to enhance its
+perfection. To Claud and Wynifred to be together was to be blessed.</p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<h2>CHAPTER XLIX.</h2>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i12">To marriage all the stories flow<br /></span>
+<span class="i16">And finish there.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i24"><i>The Letter L.</i><br /></span>
+</div></div>
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+
+<p>It was sunset when at last they rose from the fallen log. To Wynifred it
+was as though every cloud of trouble had melted away out of her sky.
+Grief was grief no longer when shared with Claud. His sympathy was so
+perfect and so tender. It seemed to both of them as if their betrothal
+were no new thing, as if, in some prior state of being, they had been,
+as he expressed it, <i>made to fit each other</i>.</p>
+
+<p>"Vaguely, I believe I always felt it," he said. "I was always at ease
+with you. You suited me. I felt you understood me; at times it almost
+seemed as if you must be thinking with my brain, so wonderfully similar
+were the workings of our minds. Wyn, we can never be unhappy, you and I,
+whatever our lot. We are independent of fate so long as we have each
+other. I wonder how many engaged couples arrive deliberately at that
+conclusion?"</p>
+
+<p>"I did not think you would ever arrive at it," said Wyn, smiling. "I
+thought you were a Sybarite, Claud."</p>
+
+<p>"You thought right&mdash;I was. But by habit, not by nature. It was Henry
+Fowler who awoke me to a sense of my own contemptibility. God bless
+him."</p>
+
+<p>"God bless him," echoed the girl, softly.</p>
+
+<p>"Look!" cried Claud, "how the sun catches the windows of the farm-house,
+and makes them flame. So they looked the first evening I ever saw
+them&mdash;before I knew you, my darling. Shall we go and tell Mrs.
+Battishill that we mean to get married? She will be so pleased."</p>
+
+<p>"Ah, yes, do. I had no heart to go and see her, the place was so full of
+memories of you. But now!"</p>
+
+<p>It was quite dark when Henry, who had been smoking at the open door of
+Lower House, heard Claud's quick footfall cross the bridge.</p>
+
+<p>"Well, lad," said he, as the young man came buoyantly towards him, "I'm
+to congratulate you, I know. There's triumph in your very step."</p>
+
+<p>"I'm about as happy as it's possible for a man to be," said Claud
+simply, as he gave him his hand. "I believe I should be too happy if it
+were not for the thought of you."</p>
+
+<p>"Don't you fret for me," was the steady answer.</p>
+
+<p>The moon was up, and threw a clear light on Claud's features as he stood
+bareheaded, just against the porch. Moved by a sudden impulse of
+affection, Henry laid his hand on the fair hair, and drew it closer,
+till it rested against his sturdy shoulder.</p>
+
+<p>"Claud," he said, "I believe I care more for you two than for any other
+living creatures. I know you will find your best happiness together, so
+I'll just not intrude my feelings on you any more. My head's full of
+plans for you, lad. Do you care to hear them?"</p>
+
+<p>"I should rather think so. Fowler, what a brick you are!"</p>
+
+<p>"Glad you think so. Now, listen. You'll accept that post of overseer I
+offered you?"</p>
+
+<p>"I should like it of all things."</p>
+
+<p>"Very well, then. I'll build you a house for my wedding gift. She can
+choose her own site, for most of the land round here is mine, as you
+know; and she can choose her own plans. I'll have them carried out,
+whatever they are. All I have will be hers when I'm gone; for Elsa will
+not want it. She has a large fortune of her own, and her husband's is
+larger. If my life is spared it will be my happiness to plan for your
+children, Claud. Do you think you can be happy leading such a retired
+life&mdash;eh?"</p>
+
+<p>"My happiness will be with Wynifred, wherever she is," was the tranquil
+answer. "I am not a boy, Fowler, and, as you know, my love has not been
+a fancy of an hour. She has told me that she is delighted at the idea of
+living here in the Combe; and, as for me&mdash;you know how I can enjoy
+myself in the country."</p>
+
+<p>"I foresee a long useful life for you both," said Henry, as they slowly
+went indoors in response to the supper-bell and reluctantly shut out the
+spring moonlight. "I wish I could feel as sure about Elsa."</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, that will be all right," said Claud, encouragingly. "What makes you
+despond about her?"</p>
+
+<p>"I feel so uncertain of her. What Miss Ellen always said about her is so
+true. She has a most pronounced character of her own, but nobody as yet
+knows what it is. I am afraid her husband expects too much of her."</p>
+
+<p>"Everyone who expects perfection in a woman must needs be disappointed,"
+returned Claud. "He will get over it, and find out how to manage her. He
+is a dreamer, you know&mdash;an idealist, any bride must needs fall short of
+his requirements. He is in love with an abstraction, and there is
+something particularly concrete about Mrs. Percivale."</p>
+
+<p>"There are some natures, I have heard of, that never trust again where
+their faith has been once shaken," said Henry, in a low voice. "I&mdash;I
+cannot consider Elsa reliable. She was not to be trusted as a child. I
+have a horrible suspicion that her husband would feel it terribly hard
+to forgive deceit."</p>
+
+<p>"She will have no occasion to deceive him," said Claud soothingly. "He
+will allow her to do whatever she pleases."</p>
+
+<p>"Well, I daresay I am wrong, I wish devoutly that I may be. But I have
+all along thought the marriage unsuitable. Of course, I foresaw it&mdash;from
+the moment when he saw her lying asleep in her aunt's room, the night we
+brought the news of her innocence. The circumstances were such as could
+not fail to attract such a romantic mind as his. And yet, Claud&mdash;yet&mdash;I
+wish things had fallen otherwise. She would have suited Allonby better."</p>
+
+<p>Claud was thankful that Henry was ignorant of the fact which, even now,
+was causing him the gravest anxiety. If he, Fowler, the gentlest of men,
+could sorrowfully admit that Elsa was not to be trusted, it was somewhat
+agitating to reflect that she was probably even now in possession of a
+secret which the entire London public was burning with curiosity to
+know. Henry did not believe in the existence of a secret at all. He
+thought that it was merely gossip, the natural result of Percivale's odd
+habits and secluded life.</p>
+
+<p>But suppose the entire facts were blazoned abroad&mdash;suppose the tale was
+in everybody's mouth!&mdash;Claud shrugged his shoulders. He had warned his
+friend, he could do no more. The sequel lay between the dainty hands of
+Percivale's wife. What would she do with it?</p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<h2>CHAPTER L.</h2>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i12">"Eyes," he said, "now throbbing thro' me are ye eyes which did undo me?<br /></span>
+<span class="i12">Shining eyes, like antique jewels set in Parian marble stone?<br /></span>
+<span class="i12">Underneath that calm white forehead, are ye ever burning torrid.<br /></span>
+<span class="i12">O'er the desolate sand desert of my heart, and life alone?"<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i24"><i>Lady Geraldine's Courtship.</i><br /></span>
+</div></div>
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+
+<p>It was a beautiful May evening. The air seemed full of incense, the
+trees which clothe the heights of Heidelberg were just one sheet of
+snowy blossom. The dull red castle was gilded by the slanting rays of
+the sun, and for a few moments stood out more decidedly that it is wont
+to do from the background of hills which surround it. The Neckar lay
+broad and calm under the light, at one end of the view lost in a
+narrowing gorge, at the other emerging wide into a seemingly limitless
+plain.</p>
+
+<p>Down the stream a boat was slowly floating. The current was taking her
+down quite fast enough to please her inmates. The young man's sculls lay
+idly skimming the surface of the shining water, and his eyes were turned
+up towards the bowery heights and the romantic ruin which lay to his
+right.</p>
+
+<p>The lady in the stern lay back with one hand and wrist clasped lightly
+on the rudder-lines; but there was little need for very accurate
+steering, as the season was too early and the stream too strong to tempt
+many boats out on the water.</p>
+
+<p>"By Jove, how lovely everything looks this evening! like a city in a
+dream," said Osmond Allonby, for it was he, turning up a face of
+artistic enjoyment to the lovely scene, with its quaint old roofs
+clustering down to the river, and its faint blue haze enveloping city
+and pinewoods alike in the mystery and stillness of evening.</p>
+
+<p>"Charming," said his companion, Mrs. Frederick Orton, as she roused
+herself, and let her eye follow the direction of his. "Let us land, and
+stroll up to the <i>Schloss</i>. It will be fine to see the sun set from that
+height."</p>
+
+<p>"Ah! you are improving, I see. Learning, under my tuition, to appreciate
+the beauties of nature," said Osmond, in a tone which seemed to imply
+considerable intimacy.</p>
+
+<p>He was a good deal changed for the worse in the few short months which
+had elapsed since the shattering of his hopes. It seemed as though his
+entire will had concentrated itself towards one aim, which, when
+removed, left his whole moral nature in fragments. His mouth looked hard
+and mocking, his eyes like those of one who sat up late, his whole
+manner had degenerated and taken a different tone.</p>
+
+<p>His falling in with the Ortons in Paris had been about the worst thing
+which could possibly have befallen him. Ottilie's bitter hatred of
+Percivale and Elsa made her a dangerously sympathetic confidante. With
+one of those impulses of kind-heartedness which she was not wholly
+without, she had commissioned the forlorn young man to paint her
+portrait. This was at the time when his utter solitude and misery were
+so great, that his better nature was on the point of reasserting itself
+and sending him back to his forsaken home. But the daily sittings in
+Mrs. Orton's luxurious boudoir supplied his craving better than a return
+to duty would have done. She made a <i>prot�g�</i> of him. He was
+good-looking and had plenty to say for himself, his present sardonic and
+bitter frame of mind was amusing. He fell into the habit of escorting
+her about when, as frequently happened, her husband was too indolent to
+accompany her. When they moved from Paris, he went with them. She
+declared she should be dull without him. For several reasons it suited
+them better to remain abroad, and Osmond had grown to believe that he
+could not set foot in England till after Elsa's marriage. The notice of
+that event in the newspapers did not, however, seem to quicken his
+desire to go back and take up the broken threads of his life. He was
+content to dawdle on at Ottilie's side, railing at fate, sneering at the
+world, and growing every day less able to retrieve himself, and face
+disappointment like a man.</p>
+
+<p>Ottilie laughed at his remark, as she laughed at all his sneers, whether
+directed against herself or others.</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, you'll do wonders with me, if you keep on the course of training
+long enough," she said. "Now pull a few strokes on the bow side. I want
+to go in."</p>
+
+<p>"This is a sweet place.... I should like to make some stay in it," said
+Osmond, musingly.</p>
+
+<p>"Like most Edens, you would find there was a snake in it," said she,
+laughing.</p>
+
+<p>"Might I ask whether you mean anything particular by that remark?"</p>
+
+<p>"What makes you ask?"</p>
+
+<p>"I fancied there was a hidden meaning in it, somehow."</p>
+
+<p>"My dear boy, your penetration is fast becoming a thing to dread. Yes,
+if you will have it, there <i>was</i> a special meaning. I looked at the
+visitors' list this morning, and saw, among the arrivals&mdash;&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>She paused. They were just in shore. The young man shipped his sculls,
+leaned his arms on his knees, and faced her steadily.</p>
+
+<p>"Well&mdash;who were among the arrivals?"</p>
+
+<p>"Mr. and Mrs. Percivale," she answered, rising. He sprang up to help her
+to land.</p>
+
+<p>"What a mercy all that folly is over and done with," he said; and
+laughed, the harsh and dreary laugh proving the falsity of his words as
+he uttered them.</p>
+
+<p>Turning to the boat he collected her wraps, paid the boatman, and then
+turned absently towards the town.</p>
+
+<p>"We were going to the castle, I think?"</p>
+
+<p>They set off walking in silence. At last Osmond abruptly broke out:</p>
+
+<p>"They are returning from their honeymoon, I suppose."</p>
+
+<p>"Doubtless. They are soon tired of seclusion; but Mrs. Percivale is no
+lover of seclusion; she had too much of that in her youth. What she
+wants now is to have her fling; and that is the very thing which does
+not by any means meet her husband's wishes."</p>
+
+<p>"Why not? Is he jealous of her?" asked Osmond, in dry, hard tones.</p>
+
+<p>"Jealous? He may be. I daresay she will give him cause; but that is not
+his reason for not wishing to appear very conspicuously before the
+public."</p>
+
+<p>"Do you know the real reason?" asked Osmond, after a pause, staring at
+the ground.</p>
+
+<p>"Broadly speaking, yes, I do. But not the details; they are too
+carefully concealed. Osmond, my young friend, if you want to be revenged
+on your successful rival, as is the fashion in the story-books, I could
+surely show you the easiest way in the world to do it."</p>
+
+<p>"You could?" he said, with a momentary flash of unmistakable interest.</p>
+
+<p>"I could indeed. I mean it."</p>
+
+<p>"Rubbish," he said, in the unceremonious way of addressing her which he
+had rapidly acquired.</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, very well, if you contradict me flatly&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>"I didn't contradict. I only thought it was another flight of that
+brilliant fancy of yours."</p>
+
+<p>"It is no fancy, but a solid fact," said she, vehemently, "that nobody
+knows who Percivale's father was. There! You have it in black and
+white."</p>
+
+<p>Osmond gave a long whistle, and mused a few minutes in silence. At
+last&mdash;</p>
+
+<p>"Won't do, my friend," said he. "She would never have been allowed to
+marry a man who could give no account of his antecedents."</p>
+
+<p>"Oh&mdash;you think so! You are as clever as all the rest of them! I tell you
+the man is an adventurer&mdash;a mere adventurer! He had no difficulty in
+bamboozling that old idiot Henry Fowler, who was taken in by him from
+the first moment he saw him. As for the women, they could none of them
+see beyond his red beard and his red sash. It is as clever a case of
+fraud as I ever saw."</p>
+
+<p>Osmond laughed bitterly.</p>
+
+<p>"If it were fraud how can you prove it?" he said. "It is of no use to
+set indefinite reports afloat. There are hundreds of them already, but
+nobody believes them. And how can you get at facts?"</p>
+
+<p>"Let me have Mrs. Elsa alone for half-an-hour, and I will engage to know
+as much as she does by the end of that time."</p>
+
+<p>"And how much does she know?"</p>
+
+<p>"Everything there is to tell."</p>
+
+<p>"How in the world do you know that?"</p>
+
+<p>"Because, my friend, I am, unlike you, a student of character. Percivale
+is besottedly in love, and, with his idiotic, romantic notions, would be
+sure to think he must tell his precious Elsa everything."</p>
+
+<p>"Your inconsistency pains me, Mrs. O. Does this tally with the character
+of the deliberate adventurer? Surely he would have more prudence."</p>
+
+<p>"Well," said she, after a pause, "if she does not know it now, she could
+certainly make him tell her, if it were put into her head to ask."</p>
+
+<p>"You would be a bad ambassadress. If there is one person on the face of
+this earth whom she hates, I imagine it to be yourself."</p>
+
+<p>"Oh! Pooh! Let me have her for an hour, I would be her warmest friend."</p>
+
+<p>He smiled.</p>
+
+<p>"You are sanguine," he answered.</p>
+
+<p>"Osmond, you think I am talking nonsense," she said, impetuously. "I
+tell you I am not. Will you bet on it? Will you bet me that I don't get
+an interview with Elsa Percivale, win her over, and extract her
+husband's secret?"</p>
+
+<p>"Yes, I will. Twelve pairs of gloves&mdash;anything you choose. You won't do
+it. To begin with, is it likely her husband will ever leave her alone?
+Besides, I think you are all wrong. I don't believe in any mystery
+except what is the invention of gossip."</p>
+
+<p>"Very good. We shall see," was the lady's oracular answer. "Remember,
+it's a bet."</p>
+
+<p>"Certainly. What am I to have if you fail?"</p>
+
+<p>"A couple of boxes of the very best cigars."</p>
+
+<p>"Done."</p>
+
+<p>No more was said, for they were in the very steepest part of the ascent,
+and even Osmond's breath began to fail.</p>
+
+<p>At last they were at the summit, repaid by a view which more than atoned
+for past struggle. As they leaned over the terrace, and gazed down,
+there was nothing beneath their eye but a foaming sheet of white,
+spray-like blossom and tender green foliage. The whole air was heavy
+with its fragrance. It was like a fairy sea, and inspired a longing to
+plunge one's weary limbs into its flowery midst and be at rest. As
+Osmond gazed around him, a sadness, born of the evening consecration,
+stole meltingly over his passion-twisted heart. The monotonous iterance
+of a little vesper bell somewhere in the valley, hidden by the orchard
+bowers, added the finishing touch. Leaning over the parapet, he felt
+unmanly tears welling up from his heart. All around spoke of peace, and
+it seemed as though the force of an invisible yet all pervading love
+flung around him.</p>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">"A slow arm of sweet compression felt with beatings at the breast."<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+<p>Not for long had nature had the power so to move him; not since the fair
+June day when, in the Devonshire Combe, had first shone on him the eyes
+of the girl who was to prove his undoing. Remorseful memories swept over
+him all in a moment. A wholesome sense of failure, not in his worldly
+career, but morally, weighed down his spirit.</p>
+
+<p>Ottilie, seated on the parapet, with her jewellery and her gorgeous
+parasol, looked out of place. At the moment it seemed as if he loathed
+her company, and must leave her.</p>
+
+<p>A great yearning to be at peace, and forgive, flooded his heart. All the
+springs of sentiment were touched. Perhaps if any spot could lift up the
+degraded soul, and speak to it intensely of its own high possibilities,
+that spot is Heidelberg at the blossoming of spring.</p>
+
+<p>A bough of lilac swayed close to his lips. Its surpassing freshness
+drifted past him on the breeze. The wallflower in the cleft of the red
+sandstone wall gave out with odorous sighs the store of warm sunlight
+which it had imbibed all day. He covered his face with his hands. Had he
+been alone, he would have fallen on his knees. There, on the bounteous
+hill-side, was the ruin of a palace&mdash;one of those "little systems of
+this world, which have their day, and cease to be." The kings who had
+erected it and lived in it, the men who had, may be, broken their hearts
+there, as he, Osmond, had lately done, were all past and gone, like a
+dream. But all around the woods were yet green, the fruit-trees
+blossomed still; and, encircling the decaying works of man, the works of
+God took on the semblance of the endless youth of immortality.</p>
+
+<p>No such thought as this took definite shape in Osmond's mind; but the
+influence spoke all around him in the eloquent silence, teaching him, as
+God is apt to teach, without words, by the stress of the unseen upon his
+soul, felt without being comprehended. He had wandered away from Mrs.
+Orton's incongruous presence, and was alone in the most lonely part of
+the terrace.</p>
+
+<p>Steps on the gravel roused him&mdash;low voices. Then the light ripple of a
+girl's laugh, like a splash of musical water, made him almost leap from
+his attitude of musing, every fibre of him alive and quivering with a
+rush of memory.</p>
+
+<p>She stood before him&mdash;Elsa Percivale. Inwardly he said over the strange
+name that was now hers. One hand was in her husband's arm, the other
+was full of lilac and cherry-blossom. Her shining eyes beamed from
+beneath the most alluring of large hats. They looked, at that moment, an
+ideal bride and bridegroom.</p>
+
+<p>Osmond whitened to the very lips as he faced the pair. He had no moment
+of preparation. Though he had just heard that they were in Heidelberg,
+the idea of meeting them face to face had not occurred to him very
+forcibly.</p>
+
+<p>But, after the first moment of confusion, he felt that he could perhaps
+more easily have achieved such a meeting in this particular spot, than
+anywhere else in the world. His mood was that of being lifted above
+disappointment. He raised his hat with a hand that hardly trembled, and
+then stepped forward with a low word of greeting.</p>
+
+<p>As for Elsa, when she saw who confronted her, the color flew to her
+face, and she glanced up at Leon's face with a guilty start. He scarcely
+looked surprised, but advanced with frank courtesy, saying.</p>
+
+<p>"How do you do? What a lovely spot in which to meet."</p>
+
+<p>"It is indeed," said Osmond, wondering at the calm with which he was
+able to proceed to offer the customary hopes as to the bride's health,
+and inquire what sort of weather they had had for their honeymoon.</p>
+
+<p>Elsa was in radiant spirits this evening. She was on her way to
+London&mdash;that London which she loved so well. She was travelling, too,
+from place to place. Almost every night they stopped at a different
+hotel, and she sunned herself in the admiring glances of fresh
+<i>tables-d'h�te</i>. Whatever she expressed a wish for was immediately hers.
+Marriage, so far, suited her exactly. Certainly it was rather dull at
+Schwannberg and Leon had been rather tiresome sometimes, talking in a
+manner she could not understand. But that was over now; and honeymoons
+are not, as a rule, of frequent occurrence in one's career.</p>
+
+<p>Whether Percivale was equally satisfied was a problem not yet to be
+answered. His thoughts were always hard to guess. Osmond could only note
+afresh every grace of his person and bearing with a bitterness which not
+even his late musings could take away.</p>
+
+<p>"Are you here alone?" asked Elsa of Osmond, after her first panic; she
+was so relieved to find that he shook hands like any other mortal, and
+attempted no denunciations, that she felt quite at ease.</p>
+
+<p>"No," he said, "I am with the Ortons."</p>
+
+<p>"The Ortons!" cried she, with a gesture of dislike, and then she turned
+her head, and saw Ottilie Orton just behind her.</p>
+
+<p>"I don't wonder at that involuntary expression of opinion, Mrs.
+Percivale," said Ottilie, in the soft low tones she could employ when
+she chose. "I am afraid you will never be able to forgive me for the
+wrong I did&mdash;for the greater wrong I intended to do you."</p>
+
+<p>Ottilie dearly loved a little melodrama, anything approaching a "scene"
+was quite in her line. After the above speech she looked imploringly at
+Elsa, not holding out her hand, yet seeming by her whole attitude and
+expression, to denote that from one so good and beautiful she dared to
+hope much.</p>
+
+<p>Elsa looked at her husband, and her husband hesitated. His distrust of
+the lady was profound, yet he did not wish to be rude.</p>
+
+<p>"You cannot know, how can anyone tell," pleaded she, "what little
+Godfrey was to me? Ah, you saw only the bad side of his nature, you
+never knew what he could be to those he loved. I&mdash;never," here the rich,
+expressive voice broke, "I never had a child of my own&mdash;he was all I had
+to love. Cannot you imagine the burning sense of wrong&mdash;the feeling that
+my darling was dead, that some one must and should pay for his death? I
+was blind&mdash;mad! I lost all sense of right. I never thought of you, I
+only wanted vengeance for my boy."</p>
+
+<p>It was beautifully done. The fervent tones took fresh meaning from the
+picturesque ruin and the lovely surroundings. Two of her auditors
+listened eagerly, the third, Osmond, turned away sick with disgust. He
+knew Mrs. Frederick pretty well by now. He had heard her conversation as
+they climbed the hill together, he knew that, if she possessed one
+sensation more prominently than another, it was hatred of the two
+standing before her. Yet she could speak thus to compass her own ends.</p>
+
+<p>Almost before he knew what had happened, both the husband and wife had
+shaken hands with her, and she had seated herself on the parapet,
+holding Elsa's hand in hers. He stood apart, hearing as in a dream the
+conversation which Ottilie knew so well how to sustain&mdash;hearing her
+faltering statements of contrition, and her pitiful complaint of
+sleepless nights, spent in the wonder as to whether chance would ever
+give her the opportunity to crave that forgiveness which she so sorely
+needed.</p>
+
+<p>What the influence of the calm, spring sunset had begun, the violent
+revulsion of feeling completed in Osmond. A stinging contempt for
+himself, in that he had worse than idled away three months in this
+woman's society, overcame him. The thought that, in his cowardly desire
+of revenge, he had well nigh plotted with her the destruction of this
+young Elsa's golden dream of happiness seemed to strike him like a lash.</p>
+
+<p>No more&mdash;no more! A little fount of longing for his despised and
+deserted home broke over his barren heart. Home, straight home, now. To
+sever instantly all connection with the Ortons was his one fixed
+intention.</p>
+
+<p>"The Castle Hotel!" Ottilie was saying, "why, that is ours. We shall
+meet at the <i>table-d'h�te</i> to-night."</p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<h2>CHAPTER LI.</h2>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i12">A lady! In the narrow space<br /></span>
+<span class="i12">Between the husband and the wife!<br /></span>
+<span class="i16">... She showed a face<br /></span>
+<span class="i12">With dangers rife.<br /></span>
+<span class="i12">A subtle smile, that dimpling fled<br /></span>
+<span class="i12">As night-black lashes rose and fell.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i24"><i>The Letter L.</i><br /></span>
+</div></div>
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+
+<p>"You are an excessively foolish boy," said Ottilie, angrily. "It is
+idiotic of you, Osmond. Leave the place by express train because of the
+Percivales! Why, they will probably leave themselves the day after
+to-morrow, at further. They are making no stay."</p>
+
+<p>"It is of no use to argue," said Osmond, turning his haggard face away
+from the window, where the twilight was growing obscure. "I am off, Mrs.
+Orton. I seem an ungrateful brute, I know, but I can't help it. It's my
+lot, I think, to disappoint everybody who expects anything of me. I
+have, the feeling upon me that I must go; but, before I go, I want to
+say one thing."</p>
+
+<p>He stopped short. From the depths of an easy chair, Ottilie made an
+impatient exclamation.</p>
+
+<p>"Well, then, say it, do," said she, "if it's worth hearing."</p>
+
+<p>"I want to say that the bet's off, as far as I am concerned."</p>
+
+<p>She laughed loudly.</p>
+
+<p>"O ho, that is it, is it? No, no, my friend, you don't get off in that
+way. When you betted so valiantly, you thought you were putting your
+money on a certainty; but, since the specimen of my ability I gave you
+up on the terrace, you begin to tremble. You find that I am not such a
+fool as you took me for! Excellent! But you shan't beat such a cowardly
+retreat as that."</p>
+
+<p>"You mistake, partly," said the young man, hurriedly. "I admit that,
+when I dared you to try a reconciliation, I thought the whole thing was
+out of the question; and now I see I was mistaken. But don't think I
+withdraw for fear of loss. You shall have your gloves without the
+trouble of winning them; sooner than that&mdash;&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>"Dear me! Then what is all the fuss about?" she asked, sneeringly.</p>
+
+<p>He came up to her chair, laying a clenched hand on the back of it.</p>
+
+<p>"Don't try to do harm&mdash;to make mischief," he said, in a low voice. "It's
+devil's work."</p>
+
+<p>"O&mdash;oh! Are we there? It is a sudden attack of virtue you are laboring
+under, is it? My good friend, don't attempt the part. It doesn't suit
+you nearly as well as the one you have lately appeared in."</p>
+
+<p>"And what is the part I have lately appeared in?"</p>
+
+<p>"Well, something very nice and fascinating, and easy to get on with. If
+you are going to be all over prickles, and object to everything on high
+moral grounds, you will make yourself an emphatic nuisance, as Artemus
+Ward observed."</p>
+
+<p>"Much better that I should take my departure, then. We shall never
+agree. But, Mrs. Orton, you have been very kind to me&mdash;&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>"Oh! don't allude to your gratitude. It is so patent."</p>
+
+<p>"You are bitter. I am glad, perhaps, to think that you will regret me a
+little bit. But won't you promise me this one thing&mdash;the only favor I
+ever asked you, I believe. Let Percivale's wife alone."</p>
+
+<p>"Osmond, you are a poor, chicken-hearted coward. I am ashamed of you.
+Why your reasons for hating those two ought to be even stronger than
+mine. Here lies revenge ready to your hand. Yet you drop it and sneak
+away. You are worse than Macbeth."</p>
+
+<p>"And you," he rejoined, excitedly, "are worse than Lady Macbeth&mdash;a woman
+who hounded a man on to crime. Thank God I am not so completely under
+your influence as that, Mrs. Orton."</p>
+
+<p>"You are too complimentary, Mr. Allonby. One would think that I was
+anxious to murder the Percivales in their beds."</p>
+
+<p>"You are anxious to do them all the harm you can."</p>
+
+<p>"Now listen to me, if your generous rage will allow you to be impartial
+for a moment. What is all this rhodomontade about? If Percivale is an
+adventurer, he deserves to be exposed&mdash;it is a kindness to his wife to
+accomplish it. If he is not, my shaft will recoil harmless. I shall do
+no injury in either case."</p>
+
+<p>"Pardon me. She is his wife. If he is unworthy, for Heaven's sake spare
+her the pain of knowing it. If he is not, you will most probably achieve
+the wreck of his married happiness by making her suspect him. Either way
+you cannot fail to do infinite harm."</p>
+
+<p>"Dear me! You ought to have been a lawyer, not an artist. You have such
+a logical mind. One would think you cherished no grudge against that
+empty little jilt for her treatment of you."</p>
+
+<p>"You would think right. I love Elsa. I always shall. Mine is the kind of
+love that is immortal; I wish it could die. But it cannot. Like
+Prometheus, it must live for ever, though a vulture gnaw at its very
+heart. Her treatment of me makes no difference at all. I would die to
+save her from pain."</p>
+
+<p>"You are a contemptible fool, then!"</p>
+
+<p>"Possibly. My folly may make me happier than your revenge will make
+you." He walked once or twice through the room, then stopped again at
+her side. "Won't you give me a promise?" he said, wistfully. "I am going
+away, and you won't see me again for some time. Won't you promise?"</p>
+
+<p>"I decline to speak to you at all. I am disgusted with you; sorry I ever
+troubled myself to be kind to such a poor-spirited&mdash;&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>She rose with passion, flung past him, and left the room. Osmond put
+his hand over his brow and stood silent for several minutes. Ought he to
+warn Percivale that Mrs. Orton's pretence of friendship was only
+specious? Perhaps he ought. And yet&mdash;&mdash;He could not control his jealous
+dislike so far as that. No, it was impossible. If he washed his own
+hands of the whole affair, surely that was enough. It was the husband's
+duty to protect his wife; it was certainly not Osmond's place to
+interfere. Percivale had obtained possession of the treasure. Let him
+keep it. So said he vindictively to his own heart.</p>
+
+<p>The sound of the opening door made him start. It was so dark that he
+could hardly see Frederick Orton as he walked in.</p>
+
+<p>"Is Ottilie here?" he asked, lazily.</p>
+
+<p>"She has just gone out," returned Osmond. "I'll wish you good-bye,
+Orton; my train goes in half-an-hour."</p>
+
+<p>"Your train? Where the deuce are you off to?"</p>
+
+<p>"England. I have played long enough. I am going back to work."</p>
+
+<p>Frederick stuck his hands in his pockets and whistled.</p>
+
+<p>"Oho! I see daylight. Mr. and Mrs. Percivale are in the hotel," he
+drawled. "Pooh! what does that matter? Stay and cut him out. Easily
+done. He's too virtuous to keep any woman's affection for long."</p>
+
+<p>Osmond laughed bitterly.</p>
+
+<p>"Which means that I am not?"</p>
+
+<p>Orton laughed too.</p>
+
+<p>"Look at Ottilie, she is hand and glove with them; sharp girl!" he said.
+"Thinks they are rich enough to be useful acquaintances, I suppose. Bury
+the hatchet, old man, and get the happy bridegroom to give you a
+commission."</p>
+
+<p>"Might manage it seven years hence, but it's no good to try yet," said
+Osmond, with an effort to copy his tone. "I am afraid Mrs. Orton doesn't
+like my defection, but she will soon get over it. Remember me to her. I
+must not wait now, or I shall miss my train."</p>
+
+<p>After all, he had to wait for the next train. Firm in his purpose,
+however, he declined to go in to the <i>table-d'h�te</i>, but walked out into
+the gardens of the hotel, and sat down in the spring starlight,
+meditating. He recalled the gush of feeling with which the castle had
+inspired him, and the meeting, so laden with emotion of the most
+poignant kind.</p>
+
+<p>Meanwhile, Elsa had asked in surprise what had become of Mr. Allonby.
+She was excessively disappointed not to see him again. She had decked
+herself in one of her most radiant <i>trousseau</i> gowns, in order to
+inspire him with fresh despair at sight of what he had lost. In point of
+fact, she had never regretted her treatment of him until that day. He
+was greatly altered, and, in her opinion, much for the better. His
+world-worn air and cold cynicism were just the very things to attract
+her. How much more interesting he would have been if he had always had
+that air! He was her timid slave no longer. A desire to subjugate him
+afresh fired her bosom. He was far better worth thinking about than she
+had previously imagined. And now, just when she wanted him, he had
+disappeared.</p>
+
+<p>He was not far off, had she known it. He slowly paced the walk under the
+trees in the shadow until the dinner was over, and the ladies came out
+on the balcony. He saw Elsa, in the shimmer of her pale dress, with the
+moon on her golden hair. She leaned over the balcony and laughed at
+Ottilie, who was down in the fragrant garden below. Osmond heard Mrs.
+Orton ask her to come down&mdash;it was so cool and fresh among the flowers;
+and, after a few minutes' hesitation, the girl disappeared within doors,
+fetched a wrap, and came gliding like a silver moonbeam down the
+staircase to the lawn.</p>
+
+<p>The young man held his breath as he saw the two walk away together into
+the gloom of the garden. He was tempted for a moment to emerge from his
+concealment, join them, and defy Ottilie.</p>
+
+<p>At the moment a clock struck. He started. He must not lose his sole
+chance of escaping from Heidelberg that night.</p>
+
+<p>Slowly he turned and moved away, his eyes still on the two ladies, the
+dark and the fair, as they strolled in the picturesque setting of the
+purple night together; and the sound of Elsa's joyous laugh was the last
+memory he took with him from the enchanted spot.</p>
+
+<p>It was in this wise that Osmond returned to his duty and his senses.</p>
+
+<p>Hilda and Wynifred had just left Edge Combe, and returned to Mansfield
+Road in preparation for the wedding-day of the latter, which was to be
+on the first of June, when, to their delighted astonishment, arrived a
+letter from Cologne, from Osmond, warm, loving, and penitent,
+announcing that he was travelling back to them as fast as train would
+carry him. It is needless to describe the joy with which the sisters and
+Sally prepared the little house for the wanderer's reception, carefully
+hiding away out of the studio any picture or study which might bring
+unpleasant memories in its train.</p>
+
+<p>When he experienced the delight of their welcome, and the sweet
+surrounding atmosphere of home, he was more ready than ever to marvel at
+the folly which had led him, in his dark hour, to fly from such a
+prodigal wealth of sympathy. It seemed, after all, as if trouble had
+strengthened him. His total failure to bear up like a man against
+disappointment had taught him a lesson. The ease with which he had
+lapsed into a "lower range of feeling" was also serviceable in showing
+him his inherent weakness. Only for the next few months his heart was
+overshadowed by a deep misgiving. He could not banish from his
+conscience the idea that he ought to have warned Percivale against Mrs.
+Orton. His quitting the field, as he had done, washing his hands, like
+Pilate, free from the guilt of destroying a just man, seemed a
+despicable piece of pusillanimity. Every day he feared to hear ill
+tidings of some sort&mdash;to learn from the Wynch-Fr�res, or Henry Fowler,
+that some unpleasantness had arisen between Elsa and her husband.</p>
+
+<p>But time went on. Wynifred's wedding-day came and went, the Percivales
+were in town, Elsa's name figured at all the best receptions. She and
+her husband were seen everywhere together, and though, certainly, there
+were those who said that he looked very ill, still, the world is always
+prone to calumny. They were leaving the old house by the river, and
+moving into an enormous mansion in one of the fashionable squares. The
+decorating and furnishing of this abode was the delight of the bride's
+life. Society said that she grew every day more gay and entrancing, her
+husband more pale and silent. He was not used to the confined life of
+London&mdash;to being up all night in heated rooms, in noise, glare, and
+crowd. Physically, it told upon him. Lady Mabel Wynch-Fr�re saw it, and
+told Elsa, she must take her husband away as soon as possible,</p>
+
+<p>"Yes, poor fellow, it is unfortunate we cannot manage to get away yet,
+is it not?" said Elsa, brightly. "But you know what upholsterers and
+decorators are unless one is personally there to superintend them? It is
+impossible to leave town until things are rather more finished. It is
+that hateful house in St. James' Place that makes Leon ill, I am sure of
+it. He will be a different creature when we move."</p>
+
+<p>Certainly no results had as yet followed from Mrs. Orton's enmity.
+Osmond grew at last to believe that all her talk had been at random,
+that no mystery existed, that she had done nothing, and that he was a
+fool to have distressed himself over an angry woman's idle threats.</p>
+
+<p>Yet there were moments,&mdash;times of deep thought and solitude, when, on
+pondering over what he knew of Ottilie's character, this explanation
+hardly satisfied him. There was a power for evil about this woman which
+was undeniable&mdash;a keenness, a mental activity which were at times
+formidable. Was it possible that she had obtained the knowledge she
+sought for, and as yet held it in her bosom like a concealed weapon,
+waiting a favorable opportunity to strike?</p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<h2>CHAPTER LII.</h2>
+
+<table summary="poem">
+
+<tr><td><span class="smcap">Duchess.</span> </td><td>What have they said?</td></tr>
+
+<tr><td><span class="smcap">Bertuccio.</span>              </td><td>Ask never that of man.</td></tr>
+
+<tr><td><span class="smcap">Duchess.</span> </td><td>What have they said of me?</td></tr>
+
+<tr><td><span class="smcap">Bertuccio.</span>                    </td><td>I cannot say.</td></tr>
+
+<tr><td><span class="smcap">Duchess.</span> </td><td>Thou wilt not, being my enemy. Why, for shame,</td></tr>
+<tr><td></td><td>You should not, sir, keep silence.</td></tr>
+
+<tr><td><span class="smcap">Bertuccio.</span>                      </td><td>Yet I will.</td></tr>
+
+<tr><td><span class="smcap">Duchess.</span> </td><td>I never dreamt so dark a dream as this,</td></tr>
+
+<tr><td><span class="smcap">Bertuccio.</span> </td><td>God send it no worse waking!</td></tr>
+
+<tr><td></td><td align="right"><i>Marino Faliero.</i></td></tr>
+</table>
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+
+<p>A pleasant autumn afternoon shed its mellow light over Edge Combe. The
+fields were golden with harvest, and the air was warm with sunshine. In
+the porch at Lower House, Wynifred Cranmer stood leaning against the
+arched doorway, her needle-work in her hands. Near her, in a capacious
+wicker chair, her husband was enjoying his afternoon "weed."</p>
+
+<p>Very contented and serene did Claud look, in his countrified suit of
+rough cloth, his leggings and thick boots. The costume suited him
+admirably, and the healthy out-of-door life had already given a glow of
+red-brown to his fair complexion. His gun lay near at hand, ready for
+him to clean, when so disposed; but at present life seemed to offer no
+more perfect enjoyment than to sit still, smoke, and look at his wife's
+delicate head in a setting of sunny sky and purple clematis blossom.</p>
+
+<p>"Penny for your thoughts, Wyn," he remarked, after a more lengthy pause
+than usual; for they were, on the whole, rather a talkative pair.</p>
+
+<p>"I was thinking about saucepans," said Wyn, peacefully, as she drew her
+needleful of silk out of the cloth and stuck in her needle with a click
+of her thimble.</p>
+
+<p>"Saucepans, my dear girl?"</p>
+
+<p>"Yes, saucepans. Where is my penny?"</p>
+
+<p>"Do you think pots and pans are worth such a sum?"</p>
+
+<p>"I wish they were not. It would be pleasant if we could stock our house
+with them at the price. No; it was Miss Willoughby's lovely
+preserving-pan that filled my thoughts. We must drive into Philmouth and
+get one to-morrow. You are so terribly addicted to jam that I expect I
+shall pass my whole career in boiling and skimming fruit!"</p>
+
+<p>"Yes, let us have plenty of jam," returned Claud, with interest. "Dear
+me, how entertaining all the little details of life are, to be sure. I
+don't know when I have been more excited than when I had successfully
+contrived those bookshelves; and the sinking of the well in our garden
+kept me awake two whole nights."</p>
+
+<p>"You silly boy! New brooms sweep clean," said his wife, laughing. "You
+will get tired of it all one day. No! I don't believe you will! We shall
+always be planning some improvement, we two. Housekeeping is a great
+pleasure."</p>
+
+<p>"To think we shall be under our own roof in a month's time, my child,"
+cried Claud, gleefully. "It sounds ungrateful to dear old Fowler, who is
+such a first-rate fellow; but it will be nice to be all to ourselves,
+won't it?"</p>
+
+<p>"Won't it!" said Wyn, rapturously, letting fall her work, while she
+gazed at her husband with devotion.</p>
+
+<p>"Mrs. Cranmer, come here and sit on my knee. I want to say something."</p>
+
+<p>"Can't you say it as we are?"</p>
+
+<p>"It's private and confidential."</p>
+
+<p>"You must put down your pipe then. I can't talk to you if you puff smoke
+in my face."</p>
+
+<p>He obediently laid aside the pipe and held out his arms invitingly.</p>
+
+<p>Wyn decorously took a seat, still armed with her work.</p>
+
+<p>"A gardener is sure to come by in a moment," she remarked, primly.</p>
+
+<p>"The entire staff of domestics may march past in procession, for aught I
+care. Don't be silly," said her husband, pinching her ear.</p>
+
+<p>"Well, now, what did you want to say?" asked she.</p>
+
+<p>"Why, that something has upset dear old Henry. I expect it is to do with
+Elsa. I know he is very anxious about her. I was down at the quarries
+this morning, and he rode up to give me the message I gave you&mdash;that he
+would not be in to dinner. I thought he seemed not quite himself, and I
+asked him what it was. He said he would tell me later. He looked most
+horribly put out."</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, it can't be Elsa. Why, they are coming here in the yacht to-morrow,
+to spend a week at Edge Willoughby. Something connected with business,
+it must be."</p>
+
+<p>"I don't think so, from his manner; but we shall see. Imagine those
+other two honey-moonists turning up to-morrow. I wonder if they enjoyed
+themselves as much as you and I did?"</p>
+
+<p>"They couldn't!" cried Wyn, letting her work slip from her knee, while
+she took her husband's face between her hands and caressed it. "No
+wedding-journey was ever like ours, or ever will be, will it?"</p>
+
+<p>"I don't quite see how it <i>could</i>," he returned, with an air of candid
+reflection. "Ours was jolly. We'll have another next year, and go
+further afield, if we can save up enough out of our income."</p>
+
+<p>"My dear silly, we shall save <i>heaps</i>! We are <i>rich</i>, I keep on telling
+you, but you won't believe it. Do you remember my last month's
+accounts?"</p>
+
+<p>"They were absurd; but we have not tried housekeeping yet."</p>
+
+<p>"And, as we are going to keep such a great deal of dinner company, our
+expenses will be heavy indeed."</p>
+
+<p>"My dear girl, reflect! Think of the cost of your preserving-pan!"</p>
+
+<p>"As to you, you have just bought that expensive fowling-piece. Whenever
+my weekly balance is low, I shall send you out shooting. No more
+butcher's meat till things come right again."</p>
+
+<p>"Ah! Henry Fowler speaks the truth. I am indeed a hen-pecked husband."</p>
+
+<p>"Claud! How dare you? I am sure Mr. Fowler never said such a thing."</p>
+
+<p>"I never said he did."</p>
+
+<p>"You are quite too foolish; and now you must let me go, for here comes
+George, and he is bringing the tea-tray out here."</p>
+
+<p>"Well done, George," said Mr. Cranmer. "Just what I feel to want. And
+there comes the postman over the bridge. Run like a good little girl and
+bring me my letters."</p>
+
+<p>"None for you," said Wyn, returning. "Only one for the Honorable Mrs. C.
+Cranmer, from Lady Mabel."</p>
+
+<p>As she stood by the rustic tea-table, opening and reading her letter,
+her husband, for the hundredth time, thought how pretty she looked.
+Fresh and dainty as to her gown, her face just tinged with color, no
+longer unnaturally thin, but alive and sparkling with animation. Her
+soft hair waved about her in the pleasant air, her sole ornaments were
+the two wide gold rings on the third finger of her left hand. Henry
+Fowler had witnessed the change he had so longed to effect in her&mdash;the
+combined result of happiness and the Combe air.</p>
+
+<p>From her serene brow to her neatly-shod feet, this doting Claud had not
+a fault to find with her. She was his own, the darling of his heart, the
+fulfilment of every need of his soul.</p>
+
+<p>But, even as he gazed, Wyn's happy face clouded; a furrow came in the
+smooth forehead.</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, Claud!" she said, hurriedly, "here is something very disagreeable.
+I wonder if Mr. Fowler can have heard this; it would be enough to make
+him feel very disturbed, at least. Mabel is at Moynart, and Edward
+joined her yesterday, and he says there is a hateful story about Mr.
+Percivale going the round of the clubs."</p>
+
+<p>"My child, there usually is a hateful story about him going the round of
+the clubs&mdash;&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>"Yes, but Colonel Wynch-Fr�re seems to think there is something in this
+one. The names and dates are so accurate. I&mdash;it was before my time. Did
+you ever hear of R&mdash;&mdash;?"</p>
+
+<p>She named a notorious political offender, who, nearly thirty years
+before, fled to Germany, and there committed suicide on the eve of his
+arrest.</p>
+
+<p>"Yes," said Claud, thoughtfully, "I remember hearing of it. I was in the
+nursery at the time. I think Mabel and I acted the whole scene together.
+We liked a violent death of any sort. But what about him?"</p>
+
+<p>"They say Leon Percivale is his son."</p>
+
+<p>Claud raised his eyes to the scene before him. There lay the bay, there
+was the spot where the white <i>Swan</i> had anchored. There in the dawn, a
+twelvemonth ago, he had seen the sun rise over Percivale the
+victor&mdash;Percivale, who had saved Elsa Brabourne from a stigma worse than
+death.</p>
+
+<p>Now the blow had fallen. The girl whom he had rescued had betrayed him,
+as Claud had feared she would. The blood rushed to his face, a storm of
+angry sorrow to his heart. Why, why had such a man wasted his heart on
+so slight a thing as Elsa?</p>
+
+<p>Wynifred's eyes rested keenly on her husband. She saw his silence, his
+consternation.</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, Claud, it is not true, is it?"</p>
+
+<p>"No, darling, I know that it is not true; and yet&mdash;yet&mdash;I fear there is
+some truth in it."</p>
+
+<p>She came close to him, laying her hands on his shoulders.</p>
+
+<p>"Who can have spoken of such a thing?" she said, earnestly.</p>
+
+<p>"There was only one human being who knew the facts," was the answer.
+"That was&mdash;his wife."</p>
+
+<p>"Claud, no!" Her vehemence startled him. "You should say such a thing of
+no wife!" she cried. "It is impossible&mdash;unnatural! She never could have
+betrayed such a secret!"</p>
+
+<p>He rose, and slipped an arm round her neck.</p>
+
+<p>"You judge all women by your own standard, dear."</p>
+
+<p>"I don't! I don't do anything of the kind! I do not think highly of
+Elsa&mdash;you know I never did! But that would be too horrible. It has come
+out some other way. No wife could be such a traitor."</p>
+
+<p>As she spoke the words, Henry Fowler came over the bridge; and
+instinctively they held their breath. His face looked calmer and he was
+smiling.</p>
+
+<p>"Well, young people," he said, brightly, "my eyes are getting old, you
+know, but I don't fancy I'm wrong. Claud, look out to sea. Isn't there a
+sail out there towards Lyme? Isn't it the cutter?"</p>
+
+<p>Claud turned his eyes in the direction indicated.</p>
+
+<p>"Right enough," he said. "If this breeze holds, she'll be here in no
+time. She has made her journey a day faster than was expected."</p>
+
+<p>"Ay lad! It's a year to-day since she came sailing into the bay!
+Yesterday was the night of the great storm."</p>
+
+<p>He turned to Wyn. "I got a bit upset to-day by some foolish talk that I
+heard in Stanton about Leon. But I've decided to think no more of it. As
+soon as I see him I know I should feel ashamed of myself to have thought
+ill of the lad&mdash;God bless him! Now, Mrs. Cranmer, a cup of tea, if you
+please, for I must be off down to the shore."</p>
+
+<p>Wyn slipped her letter into her pocket, and betook herself to the
+tea-pot. Her husband hastily got up, leaving his own tea almost
+untasted, and disappeared into the house to collect himself a little;
+for he felt as though his meeting with Percivale might be agitating.</p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<h2>CHAPTER LIII.</h2>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i12">A lie which is half the truth is even the blackest of lies.<br /></span>
+<span class="i12">For a lie which is all a lie may be met with and fought outright,<br /></span>
+<span class="i12">But a lie which is half a truth is a harder matter to fight.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i24"><i>The Grandmother.</i><br /></span>
+</div></div>
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+
+<p>An excited crowd had quickly collected on the beach when the news spread
+like wild-fire through the village that the <i>Swan</i> was sailing into the
+bay.</p>
+
+<p>The premature arrival of the yacht was almost a disappointment to
+William Clapp, Joe Battishill and others, who were rigging up a
+triumphal arch in preparation for the morrow.</p>
+
+<p>Elaine's London wedding had been a great downfall to the hopes of the
+natives of the Combe; and now they desired to make up for it by
+welcoming her in a manner suitable to the triumphs she had achieved.</p>
+
+<p>Leon, leaning against the rail aft, as he had done a year ago, saw the
+assemblage of excited people, and a crowd of memories arose within him.
+So they had stood, a dark, eager group, on the breezy morning when first
+the Valley of Avilion had broken upon his gaze. How calm had been his
+mood, then! How serene his horizon! A tranquil peace was his habit of
+mind, no storm of passion had come to lash that deep heart of his into
+swelling waves.</p>
+
+<p>Since that day all had changed. His whole being had suffered revolution.
+How many sensations had successively dominated his soul! Emotion,
+excitement, longing, passion, triumph, and reaction.</p>
+
+<p>Yes. It had come. He had realized fully now that the glittering Eden of
+his dreams was a <i>mirage</i> on desert sand. It was, he judged, his own
+fault from beginning to end. He had started on a wrong tack. He had
+begun life all theories and no experience, and one by one his sweet
+delusions had suffered shipwreck.</p>
+
+<p>He had married with no practical knowledge of women, their wants and
+their ways; for of course he imagined that all women were like Elsa. He
+found her unreasonable, exacting, pettish if thwarted, absolutely
+unsympathetic, and with a mind incapable of comprehending his. All these
+failings he unhesitatingly ascribed to her sex. He believed that he
+ought to have been prepared to find her thus merely because she was a
+woman.</p>
+
+<p>He was passing through the bitter stage of disillusioning which Claud
+had prophesied for him.</p>
+
+<p>This afternoon he was feeling specially unhappy, for Elsa so disliked
+the idea of coming to Edge at all that she had been sulky ever since
+they embarked. He had been impressed with the conviction that it was
+imperative that she should pay a short visit there, as Miss Ellen, who
+was failing rapidly, was longing to see her. Accordingly, he had exerted
+his naturally strong will and carried her off, and she had been making
+him feel it ever since. To add to her vexation, her maid was always ill
+on the water; so that Leon was devoutly thankful that the wind had
+enabled him to make his cruise shorter than he had anticipated.</p>
+
+<p>As the smiling shores of the lovely bay became distinct, he rose and
+went below to the dainty and exquisite little saloon, where his wife was
+reclining with a novel.</p>
+
+<p>"Elsa, we are nearly there," he said, "and there is quite a mob
+collected to watch our arrival."</p>
+
+<p>"No! really! is there?" she said, sitting up with some appearance of
+interest. "I never thought they would think of giving us a reception.
+What a pity I did not change my gown! Is it too late?"</p>
+
+<p>"You look perfectly well as you are," he answered, with a sorrowfully
+tender gaze at the graceful form in its natty blue serge and coquettish
+sailor-hat.</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, that is like you&mdash;you never care what I wear! I really think I'll
+change. What a bother Mathilde is to be sick like this! But you can hook
+my skirt, can't you, Leon?"</p>
+
+<p>"My dear little woman, we shall be on shore in five minutes. You must
+come on deck directly. Be quick&mdash;I want to see who is there to greet
+us."</p>
+
+<p>"How tiresome! Why didn't you remind me that the people would turn out
+to look at us?" she complained. "I do hate to feel shabby."</p>
+
+<p>"Elsa! you look perfectly charming! Do you suppose the villagers can
+distinguish between the prices of your gowns?" He coaxingly put his arm
+round her. "I want to feel proud of my wife," he said. "Put on your best
+smile for the people, darling."</p>
+
+<p>In this wise he managed to persuade her into showing herself on deck
+just in time. As the <i>Swan</i> drew on gracefully close in shore, a hearty
+cheer greeted the young couple as they stood side by side.</p>
+
+<p>"There are Cranmer and his wife, besides dear old Fowler!" cried Leon,
+gladly, as he waved his cap. "How pleasant to have Claud here&mdash;it seems
+so long since I saw him&mdash;not since our wedding-day!"</p>
+
+<p>"Humph! You are a civil bridegroom! I am sorry that time has passed so
+tediously," said Elsa, in some real and some pretended annoyance. "But
+is that really Wynifred Allonby&mdash;Cranmer, I mean? How she has improved
+in looks! I suppose it is because she is better dressed. Mr. Cranmer
+looks well, too."</p>
+
+<p>In a few minutes they were all on shore together, in the midst of
+greetings.</p>
+
+<p>As Claud and Percivale joined hands, their eyes met in a long,
+searching, mutual inquiry. One moment showed Claud that his friend had
+not found perfect happiness. He was changed; he looked older, and the
+expression of his eyes and mouth seemed to tell of mental suffering.</p>
+
+<p>Claud's own obvious, radiant content was in sharp contrast.</p>
+
+<p>"Well, Claud, my dear friend, I was astonished, I confess," faltered
+Leon. "But I must congratulate you. You look very happy."</p>
+
+<p>"Happy! I should think so. I have my heart's desire," smiled Claud. "The
+only times that anything has power to vex me are the moments when she is
+out of sight; and I believe they will always be few and far between."</p>
+
+<p>Leon looked earnestly at him.</p>
+
+<p>"That <i>is</i> happiness," he said.</p>
+
+<p>Mr. Fowler and the Cranmers dined at Edge Willoughby.</p>
+
+<p>It was a hot night&mdash;so sultry as to suggest the proverbial thunderstorm,
+though the sky was clear and starry.</p>
+
+<p>All dinner-time Percivale's sad eyes haunted Wynifred uncomfortably. He
+seemed to be studying her own and her husband's entire sympathy with a
+wistful appeal, as if wondering how it was that he and Elsa had come so
+terribly short of it.</p>
+
+<p>Mrs. Leon Percivale was in her most gracious mood. The public reception
+had gratified her, and to trail her new gowns up and down the familiar
+corridors of Edge Willoughby, to the awe of Jane Gollop and the rest of
+the staff of elderly retainers, was not without its charm. She wore a
+dazzling evening toilette, and looked like a beautiful apparition as she
+sat between her godfather and Claud in smiling quiescence, talking, as
+was her wont, very little.</p>
+
+<p>The company separated early, as was their country fashion,&mdash;Wynifred to
+walk peacefully home to Lower House with her husband and Mr. Fowler,
+through the meadow foot paths.</p>
+
+<p>They went in silence for some distance. Percivale had strolled as far as
+the end of the terrace with them, and bidden them good night at the
+stile. His tone appeared to have cast a gloom over all three; something
+there was in his whole manner which was inexpressibly sad. They felt it
+without knowing why. Henry spoke at last.</p>
+
+<p>"Percivale does not look well," he said.</p>
+
+<p>"No; Mabel has several times said so in writing," replied Claud. "She
+thinks London life does not suit him. I daresay a cruise will set him
+up. That is why she made this suggestion of his fetching her from
+Clovelly. I think he seems to like the idea."</p>
+
+<p>"Yes; but Elsa does not care to be left here alone while he goes; so I
+am afraid he will have to give it up," returned Mr. Fowler, with a sigh.</p>
+
+<p>Lady Mabel had taken a farm house at Edge for her children and their
+governess, and had written to say that, if the <i>Swan</i> was really there,
+it would be very delightful to be fetched, and enjoy a cruise round the
+Cornish coast. The suggestion had brought a ray of brightness to Leon's
+face. To be at sea again, in his beloved <i>Swan</i>, was what he relished.
+He would like to go; but Elsa did not approve. She declined to accompany
+him, and declined to let him go without her.</p>
+
+<p>"I will not go cruising with a sick maid," she said, simply, "and I will
+not go cruising without a maid; and I will not be left in this dull
+place by myself. So you can't go, Leon."</p>
+
+<p>"I am glad, on the whole, that my wife does not require a maid," said
+Claud, with Wyn's hand held closely against his side.</p>
+
+<p>"You make such a charming lady's-maid that I require no other," she
+laughed. "Imagine, Mr. Fowler! He can do my hair beautifully. What it is
+to have a husband who can turn his hand to anything!"</p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<h2>CHAPTER LIV.</h2>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i12">There is nothing to remember in me,<br /></span>
+<span class="i12">Nothing I ever said with a grace,<br /></span>
+<span class="i12">Nothing I did that you care to see,<br /></span>
+<span class="i12">Nothing I was that deserves a place<br /></span>
+<span class="i12">In your mind, now I leave you, set you free.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i12">How strange it were, if you had all me<br /></span>
+<span class="i12">As I have all you in my heart and brain,<br /></span>
+<span class="i12">You, whose least word brought gloom or glee,<br /></span>
+<span class="i12">Who never yet lifted the hand in vain<br /></span>
+<span class="i12">Will hold mine yet, from over the sea!<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i24"><i>James Lee's Wife.</i><br /></span>
+</div></div>
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+
+<p>Percivale strolled back alone up the garden path. The night was
+motionless and heavy. A lethargy seemed to lie on his soul like a
+weight. To-night he had realized a new thing. He had seen that the
+wedded bliss he had figured to himself was no dream, but a human
+possibility, which some attained, but which he had missed. How had he
+missed it?</p>
+
+<p>Was it possible that he had married the wrong woman?</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, Love, Love, no!" he cried, in his remorse. The fault was his, in
+some way, of that he was very sure. Had that unknown mother of his
+lived, she would have been his counsellor, and have shown him where he
+failed. His deep eyes filled with tears as the thought of that mother
+beyond the stars came vividly upon his soul. He felt a longing to be
+comforted&mdash;to have his unbroken loneliness scattered and dissipated by
+tender hands which should draw his weary head down lovingly to rest on a
+sympathetic breast, and, while telling him what had been his error,
+whisper consolation.</p>
+
+<p>If there was one thing more than another for which he could not possibly
+look to his wife, it was for this. Elsa expected him to have his
+attention always fixed on her and her requirements. The idea that he
+could ever ail in mind or body never occurred to her.</p>
+
+<p>He stood in the porch of Edge Willoughby, the suffocating sweetness of
+the verbena-bush, which grew beside the door, suffusing the air all
+round him. He remembered the night when he stood there with Fowler and
+Claud, just a year ago, bearing the news of Elsa's innocence.</p>
+
+<p>If he could but charm away this bitter sense of failure!</p>
+
+<p>A sudden determination to make one desperate appeal to his wife dawned
+in his heart. When first they were married he told himself she was in
+awe of him, she had not understood him. Now that she knew him better,
+was there not a chance that she might comprehend the fierce hunger which
+was in his heart? Surely yes.</p>
+
+<p>Meditatively he walked down the hall.</p>
+
+<p>As he passed along, his eye was attracted by a newspaper lying on the
+ground, folded tightly together as if it had fallen from some one's coat
+pocket.</p>
+
+<p>Stooping absently he picked it up, with intent to lay it on the
+hall-table near. As he did so, his eye fell on a paragraph scored at the
+side with a pencil-mark. One word in that paragraph struck him like a
+blow. He started, stared, half laughed like one whom a chance
+coincidence has disturbed; then, his eyes travelling on, he slowly
+whitened and stiffened where he stood, his attitude that of a man
+thunder-struck.</p>
+
+<p>For a couple of minutes or more he remained motionless, then put up an
+uncertain hand to his eyes as if to clear away a mist.</p>
+
+<p>After another pause, he laid his left hand firmly against the hall-table
+near which he stood, and, so fortified, read the passage through.</p>
+
+<p>The word which had first caught his eye was Littsdorf, the name of the
+obscure village of North Germany where his father and his mother lay
+buried. Glancing higher on the page he saw his father's name printed in
+full, and his own relationship to him openly proclaimed. So far, true;
+but the account then became inaccurate, repeating the old story of
+corruption and suicide which had so long passed current.</p>
+
+<p>As it stood it was not the truth as he had told it to his wife, yet
+there were certain things in it which surely no one could have known
+except from his wife's lips.</p>
+
+<p>Violently he repelled the thought, as if to think it were a sin. She!
+What, she! To whom he had trusted his honor&mdash;in whose hands he had laid
+his life and love&mdash;at whose feet he had heaped up the incense of a
+devotion which was all hers, and had never for a moment leaned towards
+any other woman!</p>
+
+<p>And yet&mdash;yet&mdash;<i>Littsdorf</i>!</p>
+
+<p>The writer of the paragraph must evidently have visited the place, to
+collect the names, dates, and inscriptions on the lonely grave of his
+mother in the little <i>Friedhof</i>. Chance might have taken him there; but
+could chance connect the name of R&mdash;&mdash; with the name of Percivale?</p>
+
+<p>In comparison with the horror of this thought, the publication of this
+strange hash of truth and falsehood troubled him but little. Too many
+false reports of him had been circulated for the public to pay much
+extra heed to this last. If Henry Fowler questioned him, he could easily
+tell him the truth; but this thought&mdash;this ghastly chill which crept
+over him&mdash;this horrible suspicion that his wife had discussed the
+innermost core of her husband's heart with some casual acquaintance!</p>
+
+<p>It was not true. It could not be. It must not be, or there seemed an end
+to all possibility of living on in the shattered temple of his broken
+idol. No! It must be some other way; some strange, marvellous
+coincidence must be at the root of it.</p>
+
+<p>He would go to his darling and look her in the face&mdash;feel the pressure
+of her little hand, and curse himself for the unworthiness of his
+thought.</p>
+
+<p>With a strenuous effort, he steadied himself mentally and struggled for
+his habitual calm. He determined not to go to his wife in the present
+excited condition of his nerves, lest he might say something which he
+should regret. He had not yet fully considered the bearings of the
+subject. Perhaps after all his fear was groundless. Was not some other
+solution possible?</p>
+
+<p>Again he went out into the night, and for half-an-hour his restless feet
+trod the terrace, up and down, up and down, while he tried to banish
+suspicion.</p>
+
+<p>What a coward and traitor was the man who could doubt his own wife
+without proof! Anything else might happen&mdash;a miracle might have revealed
+the closely hidden secret; anything but <i>that</i>.</p>
+
+<p>The big hall clock striking midnight made him start. He must go indoors
+or he would waken Elsa, and nothing so put her out of temper as to be
+waked from her first sleep.</p>
+
+<p>He went indoors, shutting out the hot and heavy darkness of the night
+with a sigh almost of relief, drew the bolts into their places,
+extinguished the hall lamp, and quietly went upstairs through the silent
+house.</p>
+
+<p>He expected to find his room in darkness, but, rather to his surprise,
+lights were burning, and Elsa sat in an armchair, reading a novel. She
+glanced up, and yawned as he entered.</p>
+
+<p>The room was transformed since the arrival of Mrs. Percivale's trunks
+and Mrs. Percivale's maid. A mass of various articles of apparel strewed
+the chairs and sofa, the dressing table groaned under its load of
+silver-topped essence-bottles, ivory brushes, hair-curling apparatus,
+and so forth. The mantel-piece was adorned with knick-knack frames
+containing photographs of a certain tenor who sang in the opera in
+Paris, and for whom Elsa had conceived a violent admiration.</p>
+
+<p>The young lady herself was in <i>d�shabill�</i>; she never looked more
+beautiful than when half-dressed. She wore a white embroidered petticoat
+and low bodice, much trimmed with lace. Her golden hair streamed all
+over her creamy neck and arms.</p>
+
+<p>Tossing away her book, she yawned and laughed, lifting said arms and
+folding them behind her head.</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, is it you? Just fancy! How late it is. I was so tired of trying to
+undress myself, for Mathilde went to bed the minute she arrived, and I
+won't let old Jane touch me. So I felt so hot, and I sat down to rest;
+and this book was so fascinating that" (yawn) "I've been reading ever
+since." The last five words were almost lost in a large yawn. "Isn't it
+hot, Leon?"</p>
+
+<p>"Very," he said, as he closed the door, and, drawing up a chair, took a
+seat at her side. "I am glad you are up still, though. I was afraid I
+should wake you."</p>
+
+<p>"No; I am not very sleepy. I feel inclined to sit up and finish my
+book."</p>
+
+<p>"Sit up and talk to me instead," he said, taking one of her hands in
+his, and looking down lovingly at its slender grace. "The coming back to
+this place has put me in mind of so many things, my darling, I have been
+remembering the night&mdash;just such a night as this&mdash;when I saw you lying
+asleep on Miss Ellen's bed, dressed in blue&mdash;&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, yes!" her laugh broke in. "That fearful old dressing-gown of Aunt
+Ellen's! What a fright I felt! I was so ashamed for you to see me. It
+had shrunk in the wash. Did you notice?"</p>
+
+<p>"My own, I thought you were the most perfect creature I had ever looked
+upon&mdash;as I think still."</p>
+
+<p>"It is rather disappointing, Leon, to find that you don't like me a bit
+better, now that I really do dress properly, than when I was such a
+frump. Look at that now," indicating, with a white satin-shod foot, the
+wondrous toilette she had worn that evening, which lay across a chair
+near. "That really <i>is</i> pretty, if you like; but it is nonsense to tell
+me that I looked well in that old blue dressing-gown."</p>
+
+<p>"I tell you that you looked lovely&mdash;lovely! There you lay, calmly
+sleeping, with your life shadowed over by a false accusation!" Falling
+on his knees beside her chair, he caught her in his arms in an
+irresistible access of love. Could he suspect her&mdash;he, the champion of
+her innocence when everyone else forsook her?</p>
+
+<p>His head, with its soft curls, lay against her neck. In a passing
+impulse of affection, begotten of the novel she had been reading, she
+bent down, kissed him, and stroked his hair.</p>
+
+<p>"Be a good boy, and don't suffocate me quite," said she. "It is very hot
+to-night."</p>
+
+<p>He did not lift his head, but still clasped her close.</p>
+
+<p>"Elsa, my sweet," he said, "I am ashamed to look in your face. I feel a
+traitor; I have been thinking evil of you, my heart! I want to
+confess&mdash;to tell you of it. May I?"</p>
+
+<p>"I"&mdash;yawn&mdash;"suppose so. Yes. But don't be long. I think I'll go to bed
+now."</p>
+
+<p>"To think that I was mean enough, poor-spirited enough, in face of a few
+suspicious circumstances, to dream that my wife would break her word to
+me, would shatter my trust in her, by talking of my private affairs, of
+the secret which I gave her to guard&mdash;&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>He felt the girl start in his arms, and a corresponding thrill, a sudden
+sense of horror, went through him. Letting her go out of his clasp, and
+lifting his eyes to her face, he saw her crimson from brow to chin.</p>
+
+<p>"What made you say that, Leon?" she asked sharply.</p>
+
+<p>"This," he said, as, scarcely knowing what he did, he laid the paper on
+her knee.</p>
+
+<p>She took it up and read it quickly through, the color ebbing and coming
+as she sat.</p>
+
+<p>His heart was beating so fast he could hardly breathe, his whole soul
+sick with an awful fear. The paper fell on her lap, and she remained
+still, as if not knowing what to say.</p>
+
+<p>"Elsa," he cried, "how could those words have been written unless the
+writer of them knew&mdash;what you know?"</p>
+
+<p>The girl tossed the paper from her, flinging herself back in her chair
+defiantly.</p>
+
+<p>"That mean, hateful woman," she cried, with passion. "She deserves&mdash;what
+does she not deserve?&mdash;when she solemnly vowed to me not to tell a
+soul&mdash;&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>She stopped short, the words died away. The blaze in Percivale's eyes
+seemed to wither and strike her dumb.</p>
+
+<p>"Elsa!" Rising, he stood before her, laying his hands on her shoulders.
+"Do you mean to tell me that you have been speaking of what should be
+sacred in your eyes&mdash;no, no! Consider what you are saying."</p>
+
+<p>"Nonsense, Leon!" Angry tears sprang to her eyes. "Let go of me&mdash;you
+hurt! You speak as if I were a criminal."</p>
+
+<p>His face, as his hold relaxed and stepped back, was pitiful to behold.</p>
+
+<p>"To a woman," he said. "To what woman?"</p>
+
+<p>"To that odious Mrs. Orton."</p>
+
+<p>"Elsa, you are mad! <i>Mrs. Orton?</i>"</p>
+
+<p>"Leon, you don't know what hateful things she said of you. She said she
+knew them for facts. I was obliged to tell her the real truth, I could
+not stand to have her pitying me, and telling me she knew better than I
+did. And she declared she would not tell. I made her promise."</p>
+
+<p>He laughed harshly.</p>
+
+<p>"So, though you could betray your husband's confidence, you did not
+think that she could betray yours! Oh, Elsa! Elsa!... God help me!"</p>
+
+<p>"Leon, it is very inconsiderate and unkind of you to frighten me so!
+I&mdash;I&mdash;shall faint or something. What harm so very great have I done?
+They often put stories about you in the papers. Nobody will know that
+this is true."</p>
+
+<p>"The world may know, for aught I care. What is the world to me? Less
+than nothing. All my life I have never valued public opinion. I could
+bear with perfect fortitude to be an outlaw&mdash;tabooed by society, if&mdash;if
+I knew there lived on earth one woman I could trust."</p>
+
+<p>He went to the window. The purple darkness outside seemed in sympathy
+with him. The verbena scent welled up in waves of perfume. Elsa began to
+cry bitterly, and then to let fall a torrent of excuses.</p>
+
+<p>She had done it for him, because she hated to hear a spiteful woman
+speak ill of him. It was because she loved him so that she had been
+tempted; and there was no great harm done, and now he spoke to her as if
+she were a dog. He was unkind, he terrified her. She would not bear to
+be so scolded, she was not a child any more, etc.</p>
+
+<p>Through it all Percivale stood immovable by the window, wondering what
+could possibly happen next. He felt rather like a man who, having
+received his death-blow, awaits with a dumb patience the moment when
+death itself shall follow. Was this woman really the Elsa of his
+adoration? Had he indeed to this slight, trifling, deceitful nature
+surrendered himself body and soul as a slave? How could he live on, a
+long life through, with a wife whom he despised?</p>
+
+<p>Despised? His feeling came nearer to loathing than to contempt as he
+looked at her. Her very beauty sickened him&mdash;the outer covering which
+had won his fancy. He hated himself for ever having loved her.</p>
+
+<p>She could not see that it was the act itself, not the consequences of
+it, which he so condemned. So small was her nature that she was unable
+even to comprehend her transgression. He could not make her understand
+the horror with which he must regard such a breach of trust.</p>
+
+<p>"There was no great harm done?" was her cry.</p>
+
+<p>"Harm!" he said, brokenly. "There is murder done. You have killed my
+faith, Elsa, for ever more."</p>
+
+<p>"It is very rude and unkind to say that you will never tell me anything
+again, just because I let out this one thing. And I only told one
+person. I never so much as mentioned it to anyone else. I might have
+published it all over London, to hear you talk!"</p>
+
+<p>It was impossible to answer a speech like this. She had <i>only</i> betrayed
+him to one person! She had <i>not so much as mentioned it</i> to anyone else!
+And this was his wife, his ideal!</p>
+
+<p>Claud Cranmer had said,</p>
+
+<p>"If you wish to preserve your ideal, you must not marry her."</p>
+
+<p>He sank into a chair, covered his face, and groaned.</p>
+
+<p>"Come, Leon, don't behave like that&mdash;you are the most unreasonable
+person I ever met!" cried Elsa. "Go away, please, to your dressing-room,
+and leave me alone. I want to go to bed. You have made me cry so that my
+eyes are scarlet, and my head feels like lead. I think you are extremely
+unkind; when I have told you I am very sorry, and begged you pardon. I
+don't see what more I can do."</p>
+
+<p>"No, Elsa," he said, rising, "you can do nothing more. You cannot make
+yourself a different woman; and nothing short of that would avail to
+help us much."</p>
+
+<p>He passed her without looking at her, and shut himself into his
+dressing-room.</p>
+
+<p>His wife crossed the room, and stared at herself in the glass.</p>
+
+<p>"I know my eye-lids will be all swelled to-morrow," she thought, with a
+keen sense of injury. "I never saw Leon in such a rage. I hope he will
+soon get over it. I don't think he is a very good-tempered man; I call
+him rather sulky. Osmond was much greater fun."</p>
+
+<p>A few minutes after she was in bed, the door opened and Percivale came
+in. He had changed his dress clothes for his yachting suit, and his cap
+was in his hand.</p>
+
+<p>"Leon! Are you mad?" cried Elsa.</p>
+
+<p>"I think not," he said, gravely, as he came to her bedside,
+"but&mdash;but&mdash;Elsa, forgive me, I cannot stay here and go on as if nothing
+had happened. You have given me too severe a shock for me to recover
+from all at once."</p>
+
+<p>"Leon, what nonsense! You talk in such a strange way sometimes I think
+you cannot be quite right in your head. I do not understand you."</p>
+
+<p>"No," he said, his voice almost a cry, "that is the trouble, Elsa. You
+do not understood me. I have not understood you either. I have been
+mistaken. I was ignorant of life. I did not know you, and now that,
+suddenly, I have seen you <i>as you are</i>, and not as I fancied you, I must
+have time to grow used to the idea. Poor child, poor child! You could
+not help it. It is I who am to blame, far more than you. Forgive me that
+I expected too much."</p>
+
+<p>"What are you going to do? Go away and leave me alone here with the
+aunts for a punishment?"</p>
+
+<p>"I am going to take the yacht round to Clovelly for Lady Mabel, as was
+suggested. It will not be very long, and by the time I come back I shall
+be calmer. I shall be able to face this new aspect of things better.
+Elsa, Elsa, have you no word for me&mdash;nothing to heal the wound you have
+made? Do you not see, my child, what you have done? Can't you realize
+how despicable a part you have played! Elsa, face this conduct of
+yours&mdash;what should you say of another man's wife who had betrayed her
+husband's confidence to his enemy&mdash;abused the trust confided to her? Can
+you not even see the nature of your fault as it is?"</p>
+
+<p>"I have said I am sorry, and I will say it again if it will please you.
+I know it was stupid to tell her. I thought so several times afterwards.
+I did not like to tell you; but I do think you make too much fuss, Leon.
+A thing is out before you know it, but I can't see that it is such a sin
+as you want to make out."</p>
+
+<p>He tried no more. He bowed his head to utter failure.</p>
+
+<p>Stooping, he gently put his lips to his wife's pure brow, shaded with
+its innocent-looking curls of gold.</p>
+
+<p>"Poor child," he said, tenderly, "poor, beautiful child. Sleep, Elsa, I
+must not keep you awake, or make you grieve. It would spoil your beauty;
+and it is your mission to be beautiful. Good-night!&mdash;good-night! I am
+not angry with you."</p>
+
+<p>"Then why do you go rushing off in the middle of the night instead of
+coming to bed like a Christian?" she cried, pitifully. "Leon, Leon, why
+are you so strange&mdash;so unaccountable! You make me so unhappy&mdash;without my
+knowing why! You&mdash;you are&mdash;so very <i>very</i> hard on me!" Suddenly she
+burst into a passion of tears. Lifting herself from her pillows, she
+cast both arms round him, clinging to him. "I&mdash;I do love you," she
+gasped, "don't be so cruel to me, don't!" The tears welled up in the
+young man's beautiful eyes in sympathetic response.</p>
+
+<p>He drew the lovely head down upon his breast, and soothed her with
+infinite compassion. Like Arthur, the stainless gentleman whose wife had
+failed him in another&mdash;a worse way&mdash;"his vast pity almost made him die,"
+as he held her closely, caressing her like a child until her sobs had
+ceased.</p>
+
+<p>"You are not angry any more?" she asked at last, lifting her wet
+eye-lashes with a wistful, appealing glance.</p>
+
+<p>"No, Elsa, no. I am not angry. I am penitent. There is no need to make
+yourself unhappy. Go to sleep."</p>
+
+<p>"I am very sleepy," she sighed, "but you will wake me if you move me."</p>
+
+<p>"I will sit here until you sleep."</p>
+
+<p>"Thank you. You are a good, dear boy. Good-night, Leon."</p>
+
+<p>"Good-night, Elsa."</p>
+
+<p>There was stillness in the room&mdash;utter stillness as at last Percivale
+laid his sleeping wife down, and, bending over her, bestowed a parting
+kiss.</p>
+
+<p>He felt somewhat as a man who gazes upon the dead form of one beloved.</p>
+
+<p>His dream-Elsa was a thing of the past&mdash;vanished, dead.</p>
+
+<p>What would the fresh life be like which he must begin with her? A life
+of strain&mdash;of the heavy knowledge that never while he lived could he
+hope for sympathy, could he satisfy the mighty craving of his soul for a
+wife who should be to him what Claud Cranmer's wife was to her husband.</p>
+
+<p>Everything was changed.</p>
+
+<p>Never, in all his solitary youth, in all the remote wanderings of the
+<i>Swan</i>, not even when he laid to rest his tutor, the one friend of his
+childhood, had he felt the terror of loneliness as he felt it now. It
+was grey dawn when he came down to the beach. M�ller, who was on the
+look-out, saw the misty figure of his master standing upon the shore,
+and at once launched the gig and took him on board.</p>
+
+<p>With the gradual dawn, a faint breeze sprang up and lifted the mist that
+hung over the sea.</p>
+
+<p>It filled the <i>Swan's</i> white wings as it rose and freshened, and just as
+the sun rose, she sailed out of the bay, her master, silent and pallid,
+standing on the deck, watching the dim roof which covered his perished
+hopes.</p>
+
+<p>There lay the Lower House, snug in the valley. He sent an unspoken
+farewell to the good Henry, and to the happy husband and wife who were
+probably just awaking to a fresh day of love and hope and mutual help.</p>
+
+<p>The warm sun-rays gilded Percivale's bright head, and glorified the
+still features as he stood. Old M�ller looked anxiously at him.
+Something was wrong, he guessed, and yet&mdash;oh, the joy to be putting to
+sea again as in old days, free and untrammelled by the fashionable wife
+or the sick maid!</p>
+
+<p>The old man's spirit leaped up with the red sun. His blood rose, his eye
+kindled.</p>
+
+<p>The bonnie yacht bounded over the freshening waves, the day laughed
+broadly over the sea, and the crew, animated by M�ller's delight, sang
+their <i>Volkslieder</i> as they went about their work.</p>
+
+<p>That night, the last sultry heat of autumn burst in a storm more violent
+than Edge Combe had known for half a century. The first of the
+equinoctial gales raged from the south west, thundering against the
+battlemented crags of Cornwall, shrieking up the Devonshire valleys.</p>
+
+<p>More than one large ship went to pieces on the wild coast; and fragments
+of wrecks were washed ashore at Brent and in Edge Bay.</p>
+
+<p>But no trace of the <i>Swan</i> or of any of those on board of her was ever
+carried by the relentless ocean within reach of the hearts that ached
+and longed for tidings of her fate. She had vanished as she had first
+appeared, mysteriously, in a tempest.</p>
+
+<p>To the fisher-folk there seemed to be something supernatural alike in
+her arrival and her disappearance.</p>
+
+<p>For months they cherished among themselves the belief that she would
+return one day&mdash;that somewhere, in some distant port, or in far sunny
+seas she was gliding like a big white bird along her mysterious course.</p>
+
+<p>They argued that some trace of her must have come ashore somewhere&mdash;she
+was cruising so near the coast, some fragment of her must have been
+washed up at some point&mdash;some dead sailor have been floated in on the
+tide wearing the white <i>Swan</i> worked on his jersey, to be a silent
+witness of the destruction of the yacht.</p>
+
+<p>But no! No news, no sign, no trace of her end was ever forthcoming. She
+seemed to have melted away like a mythical ship into the regions of
+legend.</p>
+
+<p>And it has now become a tradition in the Combe that if ever the day
+should come when some wrong done there shall cry aloud for justice, and
+there is none to help, that, on that day, will be seen the white <i>Swan</i>
+sailing into the bay in the sunshine, and her owner standing on her deck
+like a hero of ancient story, as he stood when first he approached the
+Valley of Avilion ready to champion the Truth.</p>
+
+
+<h3>THE END.</h3>
+
+
+<hr style="width: 45%;" />
+
+
+<h3>THE CURSE OF CARNE'S HOLD,</h3>
+
+<h3>A STORY OF ADVENTURE.</h3>
+
+
+<p>From our perusal of the book we have no hesitation in declaring that the
+Story will be enjoyed by all classes of Readers. Their sympathies will
+be at once aroused in the characters first introduced to their notice,
+and in the circumstances attending a lamentable catastrophe, which
+breaks up a happy household in grief and despair. The hero of the story,
+broken-hearted and despairing, flees to the Cape, determined if possible
+to lose his life in battle. He joins the Cape Mounted Rifles, and in
+active service finds the best solace for his dejected spirits. Romance
+is again infused into his life by his success in rescuing from the
+Kaffirs a young and beautiful lady, whom he gallantly bears on horseback
+beyond reach of their spears.</p>
+
+<p>From this point the Story takes up novel and startling developments. The
+hero's affairs in the old country are adjusted by a surprising
+discovery, and "The Curse of Carne's Hold" is brought to a happy and
+satisfactory conclusion.</p>
+
+<p>Few authors possess in so eminent a degree as Mr. G. A. Henty the
+ability to produce stories full of thrilling situations, while at the
+same time preserving and inculcating a high moral tone throughout. As a
+writer of stories fitted for the home circle he is surpassed by none.
+His books for boys have gained for him an honoured place in parent's
+hearts. Whilst satisfying the youthful longing for adventures they
+inspire admiration for straightforwardness, truth and courage, never
+exceed the bounds of veracity, and in many ways are highly instructive.
+From the first word to the last they are interesting&mdash;full of go,
+freshness and verve. Mr. Henty fortunately for his readers, had an
+extensive personal experience of adventures and "moving accidents by
+flood and field," while acting as war correspondent. He has a vivid and
+picturesque style of narrative, and we have reason to say "The Curse of
+Carne's Hold" is written in his very best style.</p>
+
+<hr style="width: 45%;" />
+
+<p>Transcriber's Note: Variations in hyphens left as printed.</p>
+
+<p>&nbsp;</p>
+<p>&nbsp;</p>
+<hr class="full" />
+<p>***END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE TREE OF KNOWLEDGE***</p>
+<p>******* This file should be named 39366-h.txt or 39366-h.zip *******</p>
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+The Project Gutenberg eBook, The Tree of Knowledge, by Mrs. Baillie
+Reynolds
+
+
+This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with
+almost no restrictions whatsoever.  You may copy it, give it away or
+re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included
+with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org
+
+
+
+
+
+Title: The Tree of Knowledge
+       A Novel
+
+
+Author: Mrs. Baillie Reynolds
+
+
+
+Release Date: April 4, 2012  [eBook #39366]
+
+Language: English
+
+Character set encoding: ISO-646-US (US-ASCII)
+
+
+***START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE TREE OF KNOWLEDGE***
+
+
+E-text prepared by Robert Cicconetti, Mary Meehan, and the Online
+Distributed Proofreading Team (http://www.pgdp.net) from page images
+generously made available by Early Canadiana Online
+(http://www.canadiana.org)
+
+
+
+Note: Images of the original pages are available through
+      Early Canadiana Online. See
+      http://eco.canadiana.ca/view/oocihm.12432/
+
+
+
+
+
+THE TREE OF KNOWLEDGE.
+
+A Novel.
+
+by
+
+G. M. ROBINS,
+
+Author of "Keep My Secret," "A False Position," etc.
+
+
+    "What so false as truth is,
+        False to thee?
+    Where the serpent's tooth is,
+        Shun the tree--
+    Where the apple reddens,
+        Never pry--
+    Lest we lose our Edens,
+        Eve and I!"
+
+    _A Woman's Last Word._
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+Montreal:
+John Lovell & Son,
+23 St. Nicholas Street.
+
+Entered according to Act of Parliament in the year 1889, by
+John Lovell & Son, in the office of the Minister of Agriculture
+and Statistics at Ottawa.
+
+
+
+
+THE TREE OF KNOWLEDGE.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER I.
+
+    Where I will heal me of my grievous wound.
+
+    _Mort d'Arthur._
+
+
+Anyone who has read the _Mort d'Arthur_ can hardly fail, if he traverse
+the Combe of Edge in early summer, to be struck by its resemblance to
+the fairy Valley of Avilion.
+
+A spot still by good fortune remote from rail, and therefore lying fresh
+and unsullied between its protecting hills, waiting, like the pearl of
+great price, to reward the eye of the diligent seeker after beauty. It
+seems hard, at first glance, to believe that the rigors of an English
+winter can ever sweep across its sunny uplands.
+
+    "Where falls not rain, nor hail, nor any snow,
+    Nor ever wind blows loudly; but it lies
+    Deep-meadowed, happy, fair with orchard lawns
+    And bowery willows, crowned with summer sea."
+
+As regards the falling of rain and hail, and the buffeting of winds, it
+is to be supposed the place does not, literally speaking, resemble the
+mystic Isle; but it was a fact, as Allonby had just elicited from the
+oldest inhabitant, that snow had only three times lain on the hills
+within his memory.
+
+To the young man himself, as he sat in a patch of shade just outside the
+rural inn, with a tankard of cider in his hand, and his long legs
+extended in an attitude of blissful rest, it seemed as if the remainder
+of the description must be also true.
+
+Up over his head, the sky was blue--how blue! An unseen lark trembled
+somewhere in its depths, and its song dropped earthwards in trills of
+melody.
+
+It was that loveliest season of the English summer which comes before
+the cutting of the grass. All up the sides of the valley the meadows
+were ripe for the scythe; the dark-red spires of the sorrel and the
+white stars of the ox-eye daisy bent softly in the warm south breeze.
+Down below the level of the eye, in the very heart of the Combe, a
+fringe of reeds and little willows marked the lowly course of the
+brook. No one who noted its insignificant proportions would have
+guessed--unless he were a true disciple of Isaak Walton--what plump
+trout glided over its clear gravel bed.
+
+In the fine pasturage of the glebe meadows, the red-brown cows were
+gathered under a tree, out of the hot sparkle of the sun. The orchards
+had lost their bewildering glory of bloom, except just here and there,
+where a late apple-tree shoot was still decorated with coral-tinted
+wreath.
+
+And beyond the orchards was the crown of summer sea--
+
+    "The liquid azure bloom of a crescent of sea,
+    The silent sapphire-spangled marriage-ring of the land,"
+
+thought Allonby, who was altogether in a Tennysonian frame of mind that
+morning. He could not help it. The fresh loveliness of his surroundings
+impressed him with a dreamy delight, and he loved nothing so well as the
+luxury of yielding to his impressions. He was filled with a blending of
+indescribable emotions, longings, desires; wondering how anyone managed
+to live in London and yet retain any powers of mind and thought.
+
+"I have been here two days," he sighed, "and my range of ideas is
+stretching, stretching, like the handkerchief in the fairy-tale which
+stretched into a gown. My horizon is widening, my standard of perfection
+is rising; I shall either die, if it goes on much longer, or become a
+totally different person. Farewell, my old self, with your trivial
+daubs, your dingy studio, your faded London models. Let us go in for the
+shearing of sheep under burning skies, for moon-rise on the waters of an
+endless sea, for the white, dusty perspective of the village street, or
+for Mary, the maid of the inn!"
+
+Mr. Allonby, as will have been gathered from this fragment, was not a
+strikingly coherent thinker; but to-day he was certainly more
+wool-gathering than usual, and he had not even strength to be angry with
+himself for the same.
+
+"Temperament," he went on, lazily "national temperament, is entirely
+the result of climatic influence. I fancy I've heard that sentiment
+before--I have a dim idea that I have heard it frequently; but I have
+never till this moment realised it thoroughly. I now give it the
+sanction of my unqualified assent. They say of us, that no Englishman
+understands how to _flaner_. How the devil could anyone _flaner_ in the
+shades of a London fog? Is east wind conducive to lounging in the
+centres of squares? or a ceaseless downpour the best accompaniment to a
+meal taken out of doors? No, indeed! Give me only a landscape like the
+present, and six weeks of days such as this, and I will undertake to
+rival the veriest _flaneur_ that ever strolled in a Neapolitan market.
+How sweet-tempered I should grow, too! Even now I recall, dimly as in a
+dream, the herds of cross and disagreeable people who struggle into
+omnibuses at Piccadilly Circus. Why, oh, why do they do it? Do they
+really imagine it worth the trouble? Why don't they tear off their
+mittens and mackintoshes, fling away their tall hats, their parcels,
+their gamps, and make one simultaneous rush for the Island Valley of
+Avilion?"
+
+And, as he thus mused, arose straightway before his imagination--which
+was keen--a vision of such a crowd as emanates, on a wet night, from a
+Metropolitan railway-station--of such a crowd pouring from an imaginary
+terminus, and flocking down that poetic village street, inundating the
+grass-grown curve of beach in the bay, swarming in a black herd up the
+warm red sides of the peaceful cliff.
+
+"Jove!" he ejaculated, under his breath, "how they would spoil the
+place!"
+
+And he checked his philanthropic desire that all his fellow Londoners
+should come to learn lounging in this ideal village. His beatific
+musings were broken into by the appearance of the inn-keeper's young
+daughter, "Mary, the maid of the inn," as he had named her, though her
+parents had christened her Sarah.
+
+She came walking awkwardly through the cool dark passage, and poked her
+pretty, tow-colored head round the doorway, to obtain a side scrutiny of
+her father's guest, who was an object of great interest to her.
+
+"Me mother said I was t'ask yer if yer was goin' to get your dinner
+aout, same as yesterday, or if yer'd get yer dinner here to-day?"
+
+This question brought Allonby's thoughts home to a sense of forgotten
+duty. The spot he had yesterday selected, whence to paint his projected
+picture, was a mile along the valley, and the day was passing; so far he
+had been conspicuously successful in his efforts to become a lounger.
+
+"I wonder if your mother would tie me up some dinner in a handkerchief?"
+said he. "I had none yesterday, because it was too far to come back."
+
+Then, as the girl disappeared, he rose, stretched, and told himself that
+he was a fool to have put off his tramp till the hottest hour of the
+day, when it would be quite impossible to get an inch of shade, either
+side of the way.
+
+However, he had come to Edge Combe brimful of good resolutions, and he
+meant at least to try to keep them, in spite of the strange fermentation
+which seemed to be taking place in his brain. As he shouldered his
+camp-stool and other paraphernalia, it occurred to him to bestow a
+smiling pity on a poor fool who could allow all his ideas of life to be
+revolutionized by a sudden plunge from London dirt and heat into the
+glamor of a Devonshire summer.
+
+"However," he reflected, "it won't last. I've been overturned in this
+way before. Look what an ass I made of myself in Maremma! It doesn't
+increase one's self-respect to recall these things. But after all,
+either I am a singularly unappreciative person, or my insular prejudices
+are very strong, or--I like best to imagine this third--there is a
+something in the fickle beauty of an English summer which surpasses even
+Italy. I don't think anything there ever moved me quite as the Valley of
+Avilion does. There is something so pure, so wholesome, in this
+sea-scented, warm air. There is no treachery, no malaria lurking under
+the loveliest bits of foliage--no mosquitoes either," he suddenly
+concluded, somewhat prosaically, as he lifted his soft cloth helmet, and
+wiped his big forehead. "Only one drawback to an English summer," he
+continued, as he started on his way, with his dinner tied up in a blue
+handkerchief and began to tramp, with long strides, along the curve
+road, with its low stone wall, which skirted the deep blue bay. "Only
+one drawback, and that one which enhances its beauty, and makes it all
+the more precious: one is never sure of keeping it for two days
+together. Its uncertainty is its charm."
+
+He paused and keenly surveyed the purple and hazy horizon. No signs, as
+yet, of the weather breaking; all was fair, and all was very, very hot.
+He rested his dinner on a stone, and again passed his handkerchief over
+his brow. The swish, swish of the scythes in the long grass made him
+glance up. The mowers were mowing the steep hill to his right, and the
+long sweep of their muscular arms was fine to see, as they advanced,
+step by step, in regular order, the fragrant crop falling prostrate in
+their path.
+
+"It's a grand day!" cried Allonby, in the joy of his heart.
+
+"Ay, sir, and it'll be a grand week. We'll du all we've got to du before
+the rain comes."
+
+This was said with a cheery authority which gladdened Allonby afresh,
+and seemed to put a final touch to his riotous delight. Scarcely a
+moment before he had affirmed that the uncertainty of the weather was
+what pleased him; but the dictum of this rural prophet was none the less
+encouraging and reassuring.
+
+Just beyond the mowers, under a clump of very fine ash-trees, stood the
+forge, and in its shadow the furnace roared, and the sparks leaped out.
+The young man must needs pause here again to enjoy the contrast of the
+fierce dark fire on the one side, and on the other the musical trickle
+of a limpid rill of water, which fell from a spout, and dropped into a
+roughly hewn stone basin, shooting and sparkling in the light.
+
+As he stood, absorbed in gazing, the shrill call of some bird came
+clearly to his ear, and made him glance up. He was standing at the foot
+of a very steep hill thickly grown with trees, and high up, between the
+leaves, he could descry peeps of a long white house, and a sunny
+terrace, blazing with geraniums. His keen eyes noticed at once a big
+brass cage wherein doubtless a cockatoo was enjoying the sunshine, and
+then he saw a little lady in white come slowly along, with a wide black
+straw hat to shield her from the sun. He was far-sighted enough to know
+that the little lady was middle-aged and wore spectacles, but she had a
+sweet and pleasant countenance, and at once Allonby longed to know what
+favored mortal this was who made her home in Avilion.
+
+How lovely was that sunny terrace! How soothing the cry of that unseen
+bird! What a lovely wicker-chair that was which stood so invitingly
+just in the shadow of the porch! A great longing to enter these
+precincts, to penetrate into the mysteries of that dusky, cool interior,
+took possession of him, and he had gazed for many minutes before it
+occurred to him that he must present something the appearance of a
+little street urchin, flattening his nose against a confectioner's
+window.
+
+Turning sharply, he saw that the grimy smith, with his blue eyes looking
+oddly from his blackened face, was standing at the door of the smithy,
+regarding him with much curiosity.
+
+"Good morning," said Allonby. "That's a pretty house up the hill there.
+Who lives in it?"
+
+"The Miss Willoughbys," was the answer. "It's the only big house in the
+village, sir."
+
+Allonby breathed freely. He had dreaded lest he should receive for
+answer that Mr. Stokes the tanner, or Noakes the varnish-maker, dwelt in
+that poetic house; but no! All was in keeping with the valley of
+Avilion. The Misses Willoughby! He said to himself that the name might
+have been made on purpose.
+
+With a strong effort he tore himself away, and continued his tramp in
+the broiling sun, and still, as he went up the valley, between the steep
+banks of harts-tongue, over the musical brooks, he could hear the hot
+and sleepy cries of the bird on the terrace growing ever fainter and
+fainter.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER II.
+
+    Let no maiden think, however fair,
+    She is not fairer in new clothes than old.
+
+    TENNYSON.
+
+
+Miss Fanny Willoughby, when the unseen Allonby saw her pass on the
+terrace, had just come from feeding her fowls. The poultry-yard was
+quite a feature at Edge, as the house was always called for brevity's
+sake, though its full name was Edge Willoughby. This year had been a
+very fortunate one for Miss Fanny's pigeons, and her mind was full of
+happy and contented thoughts as she carried back her empty tin dishes
+and deposited them carefully, along with her gardening gloves, in the
+little room known as the gardening-room.
+
+Beside her walked the very bird whose call had attracted the artist's
+attention. Jacky was a Cornish chough, coal-black in plumage, with
+brilliant orange-tinted beak. He strutted along sideways and with great
+dignity, casting looks of exultant triumph at the imprisoned cockatoo,
+who was his sworn foe. Puck, the stout and overfed terrier, solemnly
+accompanied them, as was his invariable habit, walking very close to the
+neat box-border, and now and then sniffing at the glowing geraniums.
+
+"Dear me!" said Miss Fanny, "how warm it is--quite oppressive."
+
+She would not for worlds have said that it was hot, but her dear little
+face was pink with her exertions, and her small plump hands so moist
+that to pull off the gloves was quite a business.
+
+The sound of a piano was loudly audible--a jingly piano, very much out
+of tune, up and down which scales were being rattled lightly and evenly.
+
+"I really think I shall tell the child not to practise any more," said
+Miss Fanny. "Charlotte is certainly a trifle exacting this warm
+weather."
+
+So saying, she opened a door to her right, and entered a room which was
+evidently sacred to the purposes of education--the education of a former
+day. A reclining-board and two large globes were its principal features.
+The book-shelves were stocked with such works as "Mangnall's Questions,"
+"Child's Guide," "Mrs. Markham's England," and the like. On the square
+table in the window was a slate full of sums, and what used to be known
+as a "copy slip"--bearing a statement of doubtful veracity:
+
+    "Truth is better than flattery."
+
+This sentence comprised exactly the system on which Elaine Brabourne's
+aunts had brought her up.
+
+They loved her very dearly, but they would have thought it a criminal
+weakness to tell her so. They acted always on that strange system which
+was in vogue when they were young--namely, that you always would be
+naughty if you could, and that the only thing to keep you under was a
+constant atmosphere of repression. If you learned your lesson, you were
+given to understand that the fact was due to the excellence of the
+manner in which you were taught--not to any effort of your own. If you
+did not learn it, you were conscious that this deficiency on your part
+was only to be expected from one who habitually made so small a use of
+such exceptional advantages. You were never encouraged to form an
+opinion of your own. It was an understood thing that you accepted that
+of your elders. For example: "A plate basket," said Miss Charlotte,
+"should always be kept in the parlor closet;" and her niece Elaine would
+have regarded the woman who ventured to keep hers elsewhere as out of
+the pale of civilization.
+
+This plan of education had answered very well for the Misses Willoughby,
+whose lives had been peaceful and secluded as modern lives rarely are,
+and who passed their days always in the same place, and in nobody's
+society but their own. Their delightful unanimity of opinion was the
+great bond of peace between them; but they had never reflected that
+Elaine Brabourne could not pass her life in Avilion as they had done,
+nor paused to consider what would be the result when this girl, who had
+never been allowed to think for herself, even in such a matter as the
+color of her gowns, should be suddenly precipitated into London life as
+the eldest daughter of a rich man.
+
+Elaine did not cease her scales, nor look round as her aunt entered. The
+metronome's loud ticks were in her ear, and she dared not halt; but
+sweet-tempered little Miss Fanny crossed the room with light step, and
+stopped the instrument of torture with a smile.
+
+"Oh, Aunt Fanny! Aunt Char said I was to play scales for an hour!"
+
+"My dear, it is so excessively warm," said Miss Fanny, apologetically,
+"I feel sure you should lie down till the luncheon-bell rings. It is
+really quite exceptional weather; I am so glad for the hay-makers."
+
+Elaine, like a machine, had busied herself in closing the piano and
+putting away her music. Now she rose, and followed her aunt to the table
+by the window.
+
+She was such a very odd mixture of what was pleasing and what was not,
+that it was hard to say what was the impression she first conveyed.
+
+She was a head taller than her aunt, and looked like an overgrown child.
+She wore a hideous green and white cotton frock, and a black holland
+apron. The frock had shrunk above her ankles, and was an agonising
+misfit. Of the said ankles it was impossible to judge, for their
+proportions were shrouded in white cotton stockings and cashmere boots
+without heels.
+
+She was quite a blonde, and her hair was abundant. It was combed back
+very tightly from a rather high forehead, plaited and coiled in a lump
+behind, which lump, in profile, stuck straight out from the head.
+
+The eye seemed to take in and absorb these details before one realised
+the brilliancy of the complexion, the delicate outline of the short
+nose, the fine grey eyes, perhaps a shade too light in color, but
+relieved by heavy dark lashes, and the almost faultless curve of the
+upper lip.
+
+Such was Miss Brabourne at nineteen. A child, with a mind utterly
+unformed, and a person to match. The dull expression of the pretty face
+when at rest was quite noticeable. It looked as if the girl had no
+thoughts; and this was sometimes varied by a look of discontent, which
+was anything but an improvement. She felt, vaguely, that she was dull;
+and that her life bored her; but her mind had not been trained enough to
+enable her to realise anything.
+
+She had read astonishingly little. There was a deeply-rooted conviction
+in the minds of her aunts Fanny, Charlotte and Emily that reading was a
+waste of time,--except it were history, read aloud.
+
+It was hard to see wherein the great charm of this reading aloud lay; it
+had sometimes occurred to Elaine to wonder why she was made to read
+"Markham's France" aloud to her aunts by the hour together, yet, if
+found perusing the same book to herself in the corner, it was taken
+away, and she was told to "get her mending."
+
+She did not care conspicuously for reading. She did not care for
+anything much, so far as she knew. The only thing which evoked any warm
+interest was music, and the one piece of restraint which she deeply
+resented was the being forbidden to play on the beautiful grand piano in
+the drawing-room. It never occurred to her aunts for a moment that their
+pupil could play far better than her teachers; it never dawned upon them
+that she was fifty times more able to do justice to the grand piano than
+they were. Elaine was the child--under their authority. It stood to
+reason that she must not play on the best piano, any more than she might
+loll in arm-chairs, stand on the hearthrug, or go up and down the front
+staircase. And so, at an age when most girls are going out to balls,
+admiring and being admired, Elaine was playing her scales, getting up at
+half-past six, going to bed at half-past nine, not happy, but quite
+ignorant of what she needed to make her so.
+
+There was one aunt who did not quite agree with the plans adopted for
+their niece's education, but she was far too gentle to tell her sisters
+so. This was Aunt Ellen, the eldest, and Elaine's god-mother.
+
+She was far the most intellectual of the four sisters, but had resigned
+any active part in her god-daughter's education because of her
+ill-health. She reserved to herself the task of amusing the child, and
+this she wished to do by teaching her fancy-work, and occupations for
+the fingers. But if there was one thing Elaine disliked, it was
+fancy-work, or occupation of any sort for the fingers. In fact, it
+puzzled them to know what she did like, though it never occurred to them
+to think how narrow was their range of interests--so narrow as to make
+it quite likely that the girl might have a thousand, and they not
+discover them. Miss Ellen was a great reader, and would have dearly
+liked Elaine to read the books she read; but out of deference
+to her sisters' theories she lent her only such books as they
+approved--memoirs, essays and biographies; and Elaine hated memoirs,
+essays and biographies.
+
+She did not decline to read them, any more than she declined to do
+fancy-work--she was too well-trained for that. Her individuality was not
+powerful enough to resist that of her aunts, three of whom were women of
+strong character, accustomed to be obeyed. And so the days went on, and
+she passed from child to woman, no one but Aunt Ellen being aware of the
+fact; and Ellen Willoughby dreaded unspeakably the day, which she felt
+certain must come soon, when the girl would awake to all the
+possibilities of life, and find her present existence intolerable.
+
+It might have been a presentiment which made her mind so full of this
+thought on this hot, beautiful summer's day, when she lay on her low
+couch beside the great window, gazing out at the glowing valley, and
+watching the shadows change as the sun slowly advanced.
+
+Presently there was a tap at the door, and Elaine came in. She brought
+fresh roses for the invalid's glasses, and, as she crossed the room, her
+godmother watched her keenly. The girl shut the door quietly and crossed
+the carpet, neither stamping nor scuffling. Her manners had been well
+attended to, but as she advanced it struck Miss Willoughby that her step
+lacked the elasticity which one associates with youth; she thought at
+that moment she would have preferred to see Elaine hurl herself into the
+room, and skip and dance for joy of the beautiful weather.
+
+The niece kissed her aunt in her usual methodical fashion, and then,
+fetching the vases, began the duty of putting fresh flowers and water,
+much as she would have begun to fold a hem or stitch a seam. This done,
+she sat still for some few minutes, thinking apparently of nothing, and
+with her dull, handsome eyes fixed on the distance.
+
+At last she said:
+
+"Martha's field is being cut to-day, and they say, if we get some rain
+by-and-by, there ought to be a fine aftermath."
+
+"Dear me! Martha's field being cut already! How the years fly!" said
+Miss Ellen, with a sigh.
+
+"Oh, do you think so? I think they drag," said Elaine, rather suddenly;
+and then repeated, as if to herself, "They drag for me."
+
+Miss Willoughby felt for the girl, but her sense of what was fitting
+compelled her to utter a platitude.
+
+"Time always passes more slowly for the young," she said. "When you are
+my age--"
+
+"That will be in twenty-two years," said Elaine.
+
+She said no more, but somehow her tone implied that she did not wish to
+live twenty-two years, and to the elder woman it sounded very sad.
+
+She looked wistfully at her niece, wondering if it would be possible to
+get her sisters to see that some amusement beyond the annual
+school-feast and tea at one or two farmhouses was necessary for the
+young.
+
+She longed to say that youth seemed so long because of the varied
+emotions and experiences crowded into it--emotions which were lifelong,
+minutes of revelation which seemed like years, hours in which one lived
+an age. But she knew Charlotte would feel it most unfitting to talk of
+emotions to a child, and dimly she began to feel sure that Charlotte
+must be wrong, or that somebody was wrong, that Elaine's was not a happy
+nor a normal state of girlhood.
+
+Just then Miss Emily Willoughby entered the room. She was the youngest
+of the four, and rather handsome, though her style of hair was
+unbecoming, and her dress an atrocity.
+
+"Is Elaine here? Oh, yes, I see she is. Elaine, Jane is ready for your
+walk, and I should like you to go along the valley to Poole, and tell
+Mrs. Battishill to send up twenty pounds of strawberries for preserving,
+as soon as they are ripe."
+
+Elaine rose, with a face expressing neither displeasure nor distaste.
+She merely said, "Yes, Aunt Emily;" and, taking up her tray of dead
+flowers, left the room and closed the door behind her.
+
+Miss Ellen's eyes followed her anxiously, and, as the footsteps died
+away along the passage, she lay back among her cushions and a slight
+flush rose in her white face.
+
+"Emily," she said, "I should like to have a little talk with you."
+
+"That is just what I have come up for," said her sister, seating herself
+in Elaine's vacated chair, and taking out her knitting. "About this work
+from Helbronner's, isn't it? Well, my dear, we have just been discussing
+it among ourselves, and have come to the conclusion to send back the
+design. It will not do, my dear Ellen, as I know you will agree. It
+would be considered quite Popish by the villagers, and, as Mr. Hill
+would not like to object to it if it were our work, it would be placing
+him in a _most_ awkward position."
+
+Miss Ellen fixed her soft, questioning eyes on her sister's face, but
+soon removed them, with a sigh of resignation. Emily's mind was full of
+the design for the new altar-cloth, and it would be useless at such a
+moment to appeal to her on the subject of her niece's future. She could
+but lie still and hear the pros and cons respecting a design of cross
+intertwined with lilies, which design Miss Emily, for some inscrutable
+reason, seemed to consider appropriate only to the Church of Rome.
+Presently, through the open window could be heard Elaine and the maid
+setting out for their walk, and again Miss Willoughby caught herself
+wishing that the girl's footfall had had more of girlish buoyancy about
+it.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER III.
+
+    The champaign, with its endless fleece
+    Of feathery grasses everywhere!
+    Silence and passion, joy and peace,
+    An everlasting wash of air.
+
+    BROWNING.
+
+
+Elaine Brabourne's feelings, as she went up the Combe, along the path
+which Allonby had trod before her, were about as different from his as
+anything that could possibly be imagined. She was not thinking much of
+anything in particular, but her predominant sensation was annoyance and
+resentment that her aunt should send her all the way to Poole on such a
+hot afternoon.
+
+It was about a quarter-past four, and the sunbeams were beginning to
+take that rich golden tinge which tells that the middle day--the "white
+light" so worshipped by Constable--is past. Tea at six and light supper
+at nine was the rule at Edge Willoughby, and so Elaine always went for a
+walk at four o'clock in the summer-time--at which hour her aunts
+affirmed "the great heat of the day to be past."
+
+The girl had never in her life been for a walk by herself. Jane had been
+her companion for the last fifteen years, and Jane's legs preferred an
+equable and leisurely method of progression along a good road, with, if
+possible, some such goal as Mrs. Battishill's farm, and a prospect of
+new milk, or perhaps junket. Consequently, country-bred though she was,
+Elaine was almost a stranger to rambles and scrambles up the cliff, to
+running races, scaling precipices, bird's-nesting, or any of those
+pursuits which usually come as naturally to the girl as to the boy who
+is reared "far from the maddening crowd."
+
+Had she had a companion to suggest such sports, they would have been
+delightful to her; but hers was eminently an imitative and not an
+original mind, so she walked along passively at Jane's side, letting the
+parasol, which had been given her to protect her complexion, drag behind
+her, its point making a continuous trail in the white dust.
+
+She was walking through a scene of beauty such as might have moved a far
+less emotional temperament than Allonby's. Behind her back were the
+waters of the bay, one sheet of flame in the vivid light, while here and
+there gleamed the sails of some proud ship steaming slowly down the
+Channel. The road she was treading ran along the western side of the
+valley; to her right all was deep, mysterious shadow, and beyond it the
+lofty swell of the more easterly of the two hills which bounded Edge
+Combe. High on the side of the Copping, as this eastern hill was called,
+was the long white front of Edge Willoughby, and a full view of the
+terrace glowing with its crimson and scarlet glory of climbing
+geraniums.
+
+Every gateway that they passed disclosed a wealth of luxuriant grass,
+almost as tall as Elaine herself, ready and waiting for the mower's
+hand. The white butterflies flew here and there, dancing with glee. The
+sunshine, striking through the larch plantation on the left, flung bars
+of light and shadow across the road; and under the trees the fern-fronds
+were rearing their lovely heads, uncurling in crown-like grace and
+beauty.
+
+All so still; nothing but the sleepy, hushed murmur which comes from
+nowhere and yet fills the air of a summer's day. In the silence the call
+of the chough on the terrace could be distinctly heard right across the
+combe.
+
+"Hark at Jacky!" said Elaine, with a little laugh. She rested her arms
+on the stile, and gazed away over the laughing meadow at the terrace. "I
+can see Aunt Ellen's head at the window," said she, "and here comes Aunt
+Char with a watering-pot. I hope she won't forget to water my
+nasturtiums just around the corner. Do you know I've got one of those
+new coral-colored ones, Jane?"
+
+"If we don't push on, miss, we'll not get to Poole and back before tea,"
+was Jane's remark.
+
+"I do think it's a shame to send me all the way to Poole such a day as
+this," sighed the girl, as she reluctantly rose and continued her way.
+
+She did not care in the least for the beautiful landscape. Its monotony
+was thoroughly distasteful to her. What mattered it whether beautiful or
+not, so long as it never changed? Variety was the need of her young
+life: something fresh--something different. Had she come upon a cargo of
+bricks and mortar, and workmen hacking down the finest trees in order
+to erect a villa, the sight would have afforded her the liveliest
+relief.
+
+Presently they left the high-road, and crossed a bit of furzy
+common--just a small piece of waste ground, with the water lying in
+picturesque pools and clumps of starry yellow blossoms brightening the
+sandy soil.
+
+As they passed along this marshy tract, Elaine raised her eyes to the
+road they had just quitted, which now ran along to their left, rather
+above the level on which they were walking; and she saw something which
+made her stop stone still and gaze round-eyed up at the road in a
+fashion which Jane could not understand till her own eyes followed the
+direction of her young mistress'. Then she beheld what was sufficiently
+unusual amply to justify the girl's surprise.
+
+A broad back, covered with a light tweed coat, a soft, shapeless felt
+hat, two unmistakably masculine legs appearing on the further side of a
+camp stool:--a folding easel, bearing a canvas of fair dimensions, and a
+palette splotched thickly with color. The painter's back was towards
+them. His point of view lay inland, up the valley, and took in a corner
+of Poole farmhouse, and the grove of ash-trees behind it.
+
+It may at first sound somewhat contradictory that an artist should be
+such a _rara avis_ in so beautiful a spot as Edge Combe. But it is,
+nevertheless, true, and this for two good reasons. Firstly, the place is
+quite out of the beat of the usual Devonshire tourist. It is nowhere
+near Lynton, nor Clovelly, nor the Dart, nor Kingsbridge. No railway
+comes within five miles of it, and very few people have ever heard its
+name. Secondly, many landscape artists are dispirited by the cruel
+difficulty of getting a foreground. It is embarrassing to paint with the
+ground descending sheer away from your very feet, so as merely to
+present to you the summits of several trees, and the tip of a church
+spire in violent perspective. Equally inconvenient is it to take your
+seat at the foot of a steep hill, with intention to paint the side
+thereof. And so, as level ground there is none, the artists at Edge
+Combe are limited to those who, like Allonby, fall so headlong in love
+with the place that they make up their minds to paint somewhere,
+regardless of difficulties. Again it may be added that there is no bold
+coast-line at Edge Combe, no precipitous granite rocks, with white
+breakers foaming at their base, no mysterious chasms or sea-caves,--all
+is gentle and smiling. The cliffs are white chalk, riddled with gulls'
+nests, or warm red-brown crumbling sand-stone. The blackberries ripen at
+their sunny summits, the park-like trees curve over almost to the
+water's brim; and the only danger attaching to these cliffs is their
+habit of now and again quietly subsiding, breaking away and falling into
+the sea without the slightest warning.
+
+Allonby had chosen his painting-ground with rare felicity, and had, as
+was his wont, gently congratulated himself on the pleasing fact. Elaine
+longed, with a longing which was quite a novel emotion, to be near
+enough to see what he was doing.
+
+He was not painting, at this moment, but sitting idly, leaning his head
+on his hand.
+
+Oh, if he would but turn round and look at her! The usually dull grey
+eyes gathered a strange intensity; even Jane, as she looked at the girl,
+noticed her odd expression, and was rendered vaguely uneasy by it.
+
+"Come on, miss," said she.
+
+"Oh, but, Jane--he is painting--see! He looks like a gentleman. I wonder
+who he is!"
+
+"I heard Hutchins say there was a gentleman staying at the Fountain
+Head. That might be him," said Jane.
+
+"I daresay. Most likely. I wonder what his name is?"
+
+"I don't see it matters to you, miss. You don't know him, nor your aunts
+don't know him, and if we loiter like this we'll not get home afore the
+dumpsie" (twilight).
+
+Elaine reluctantly tore away her feet, which seemed rooted to that
+charmed spot. Her thoughts were not coherent--they were hardly thoughts
+at all, but there was a sudden passionate wish that she were a man, and
+free. It was no good to grow up if you were only a girl. She was
+nineteen, and had no more liberty than when she was nine. Oh, to be able
+to travel about alone, to stay at an inn, to go from one part of England
+to another, with no one to ask the why and wherefore of your actions!
+She looked almost with hatred at Jane's homely, well-known features. Why
+must she always have a Jane at her elbow?
+
+The evil hour to which Miss Ellen looked forward with mournful prophecy
+was hard at hand.
+
+"Well, now, I du say that it's nice to see you, Miss Ullin," said Mrs.
+Battishill, with delight. "And Jane tu! Come along in out of the
+heat--come into the rhume. Is all the ladies well? How du they like this
+weatherr, and how du like it yourself, Miss Ullin, my dearr?"
+
+The Devonshire dialect was one of Allonby's keenest sources of delight,
+particularly the soft liquid French sound of the _u_, contrasting with
+the rough burr of the _r_. On Elaine it produced absolutely no effect
+whatever; she had heard it all her life. Her idea of bliss would be to
+hear something completely different. She went mechanically into Mrs.
+Battishill's best parlor, neat and clean as a new pin, but with the
+strange stuffiness which comes of never opening the windows.
+
+She ate the cakes provided, and drank the milk with healthy girlish
+appetite; but her thoughts were centred on the artist in the lane, and
+she did not hear a word that Jane and the farmer's wife were saying.
+
+Jane was admiring a large fine silver cup gained by Mr. Battishill at
+the last agricultural show for the best cultivated farm of more than a
+hundred acres. This prize was offered every year to his tenantry by Sir
+Matthew Scone, who owned nearly all the surrounding country.
+
+"Yes, it's a fine coop," said Mrs. Battishill, with pride. "I shown it
+yesterrday to a young fellow who's making a picturre out there in the
+lane, and coom oop to the farrm for a drink o' milk."
+
+These words suddenly fixed Elaine's attention.
+
+"He's painting out there now," said Jane, with interest; "we see him as
+we came threw the waste."
+
+"I dessay you will have," returned Mrs. Battishill, benevolently. "I
+showed him all over the hoose, and he was that taken oop with it. He
+said he never see such a queer place in his life. He didn't seem half a
+bad chap, to me," she was kind enough to add.
+
+Poole Farm had never before presented itself to Elaine in such a
+pleasant light. It was most certainly a very queer house, for it was
+built right against the side of a hill, so that you could walk in at the
+front door, ascend two or three flights of stairs, and then walk out of
+a door at the back, and find yourself unexpectedly on _terra firma_. It
+had never occurred, to the girl till to-day that this eccentricity was
+attractive; but now the house, the farmer's wife, the whole surrounding
+landscape seemed to borrow new dignity from the potent fact of this
+unknown artist having admired them.
+
+She did not join in the conversation, but listened with feverish
+interest as Jane asked if Mrs. Battishill knew his name.
+
+No, she had not asked it. He had said he was staying at the "Fountain
+Head," and, when she asked him how long he meant to stay in these parts,
+he laughed and answered "as long as the fine weather lasts."
+
+"Eh, well, we'll hope the rain'll hold off till he's done his picture,"
+said Jane, as she rose to take her leave.
+
+The farmer's wife protested against such a short visit, but Jane
+reminded her that tea at Edge was at six o'clock, and that they were
+bound to be home in good time; and so they started out again into the
+golden evening, where a circle of rose-color was just beginning to rim
+the intense blue of the pure sky.
+
+When they had shut the wicket-gate, and crossed the brook by the
+miniature bridge of three crazy planks, Elaine took her courage in both
+hands and ventured a petition.
+
+"Jane," said she, "don't go across the waste. Let us go home by the
+road; it will be--a change."
+
+As she spoke, she turned crimson, and almost despaired, for it was a
+longer way to go home by the road.
+
+Jane guessed with perfect accuracy the thoughts which were busy in her
+young mistress' mind; but she herself was a true daughter of Eve, and
+she wished to go home by the road as much as ever Elaine could do. She
+just sent one keen look at the girl's flushed face, and then said:
+
+"It was more than a bit boggy across the waste; you'll get home dry-shod
+if we go the other way."
+
+So these two dissemblers, neither of whom would own her secret motive,
+turned into the road, and walked along until a sudden bend in it brought
+them in sight of the artist's easel, and then Elaine's heart seemed to
+spring up to her throat and choke her, and she cried out, regardless of
+whom might hear,
+
+"Oh, Jane! He's gone!"
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER IV.
+
+    Give her time--on grass and sky
+    Let her gaze, if she be fain:
+    As they looked, ere _he_ drew nigh
+    They will never look again!
+
+    JEAN INGELOW.
+
+
+"Gone!" was Jane's quick response; "but he'd never go and leave his
+picture sticking out there by itself for the first shower to spoil--he
+can't be far off."
+
+For a moment Elaine recoiled, every nerve thrilled with the thought that
+the stranger, concealed in some bush in the immediate vicinity, had
+heard her reckless and incautious exclamation. There was no movement and
+no sound, and, after a pause fraught with more suspense than she could
+remember to have ever felt before, she stepped about two paces forward,
+and took another timid look. Something was lying on the ground near the
+easel--a confused heap of gray, which outlined itself clearly in the
+long rank wayside grass; and for a moment Elaine turned white and looked
+as if she were going to faint; then, no longer hesitating, but urged on
+by a wild impetuosity, she ran to the spot, and stood gazing down at
+Allonby's pallid and stiffened features.
+
+All her life long she would remember that moment--every detail, every
+sensation, stamped on her brain with indelible distinctness. The soft
+whisper of a newly-awakened diminutive breeze in the ash-trees, the
+grass all yellow as corn in the golden evening light, the hot sweet
+perfume that arose from the fragrant hedgerow, and the still hard face,
+bloodless under its newly-acquired bronze. It was death--she was certain
+of it. Death, that mystery in whose existence she had never really
+believed, though she knew, as matter of history, that both her parents
+were dead.
+
+Into the heart of this strange, awful secret she seemed suddenly hurled
+with a force which bewildered her. For a few moments she stood quite
+speechless, swaying to and fro, and seeing through a mist, while Jane,
+with her back towards her, was staring down the lane in hopes of seeing
+the artist reappear.
+
+Allonby had evidently come to the ground with force. His fall had
+crushed the camp stool under him. He had fallen forward, but slightly
+sideways; one arm was flung out under his head, and, owing to this, his
+face was turned upward, leaving clearly visible a livid purple mark on
+the left side of the forehead. The other hand was clenched, and the
+lower limbs slightly contracted, as if from a sudden shock; the eyes
+were closed and the brows drawn together with an expression of pain.
+
+To this girl, who had scarcely in her life come into contact with a
+young man socially her equal, this strange experience was overwhelming.
+A moment she remained, as has been said, trembling and erect; then she
+dropped on her knees in the long grass, and cried out, pierceingly,
+
+"Jane! Jane! come here! What are you doing? He is dead! He is dead!"
+
+Jane turned as if she had been shot.
+
+"Lawk-a-mercy, Miss Elaine," she cried, hurrying to the spot; and then,
+as is the manner of her class, she began to scream, and her shrill cries
+rent the air three or four times in rapid succession. "Oh, good Lord!
+Oh, mercy on me! What can have happened? He's been murdered, sure
+enough! Oh, Miss Elaine, come away! Come away from the corpse, my dear!
+You know your aunts would never hold with your touching a corpse. Oh,
+dearie, dearie, all the years I've lived I never come across such a
+thing! Never!"
+
+"_Murdered!_"
+
+The word dropped from Elaine's trembling lips with a wailing sound. Such
+a thing had never suggested itself to her mind. Probably had she had the
+usual training in the way of sensational novels, had she been accustomed
+to read of crimes and follow up the details of their detection with the
+zest of the true lover of late nineteenth-century romance, the idea of
+murder would have at once occurred to her, and she might have proceeded
+forthwith to search the long grass around for footprints, fragments of
+clothing, or a blood-spattered weapon. But she never once thought of the
+criminal, only of the victim. Neither did it dawn upon her that the
+mysterious danger which had lurked for the artist in that smiling
+landscape might lurk there also for her. She thought of nothing but him:
+that idea swallowed up and eclipsed all others.
+
+Poor Allonby! Barely four hours ago he had rejoiced over the
+straightforward sincerity of the English summer. He had quoted with
+smiling satisfaction the words in which a French writer describes the
+Maremma:
+
+"Cette Maremme fertile et meurtriere qui en deux annees vous enrichit et
+vous tue."
+
+Nothing less murderous could well be imagined than this peaceful
+Devonshire lane. Here were no ghastly exhalations, no venomous reptiles
+to glide through the long flowery grass: an Eden without the snake it
+seemed at first gaze, and yet some unseen malign power had exerted
+itself, and felled the lusty manhood of this young Englishman with a
+blow.
+
+To Elaine, the sight was horror and agony untold; it acted physically on
+her nerves, and produced a dizzy faintness from which it took her
+several moments to recover. Feverishly she laid her hand on that of the
+young man, then on his brow, which was cold and rigid; she recoiled,
+filled with panic, from the touch, and leaped impulsively to her feet.
+
+"Oh, help! Help! Will nobody help? Will nobody hear us if we call?"
+
+"Oh, dear heart, he's bleeding under his coat here somewhere," cried
+Jane, holding out her hand, on which was something wet and glistening.
+
+This sight robbed the girl of whatever nerve she might have possessed,
+and she recoiled with a gasp of terror.
+
+"Stay with him," she cried, frantically, "I will run for help;" and,
+without waiting for reply, she started off to run at her topmost speed,
+feeling only that the one need of her soul at the moment was violent
+action, that something must be done at once.
+
+The emergency, the first emergency of her life, had utterly scared away
+her wits.
+
+She ran blindly, not in the least knowing where she was running--almost
+with an instinct of flight--escape from that terrible cold, still,
+bleeding form among the grass.
+
+She could see his face in fancy as she ran, could remember how a tall
+daisy bent over and touched his brown moustache, and a huge curled
+dock-leaf flung its shadow over his forehead. All so still, so
+stiff--ah! how dreadful it was, dreadful beyond the bounds of belief.
+
+In her dire perplexity, she never once thought of what was the only
+obvious thing to do,--namely, to run to Poole, and tell the Battishills
+to send down some men with a hurdle. She simply tore along the lane like
+a mad thing, never stopping to ask herself what she intended, uttering
+from time to time short sobs of terror and pity.
+
+A little way beyond Poole, the lane joined the high coach-road which
+runs from Stanton to Philmouth; into this road she dashed, and along it
+her flying feet bounded, whither she neither knew nor cared. For the
+first time in her life she was alone--alone and free. She was beyond
+reach of her aunts and Jane, out by herself, alone in the wide road; and
+without her being conscious of the fact, this unwonted loneliness added
+to the terribleness of the situation. She soon lost her ugly hat, with
+its prim bows of drab ribbon edged with black lace; but she never even
+noticed its loss. On, on she flew, till at last the sound of wheels met
+her ear, and her tearful eyes caught sight of a carriage approaching.
+
+It was an open carriage, just large enough for two, very compactly
+built. The man on the box looked like a private servant; within were a
+lady and a gentleman.
+
+It did not matter to Elaine who they were--they might have been the
+Queen and the Prince of Wales for all she cared. Her one idea was that
+she must stop them. She ran pantingly on till the carriage was within a
+few yards of her, and then flung up both her arms, crying,
+
+"Oh, stop, stop! I want to speak to you! Stop!"
+
+The sudden apparition in the lonely road of a tall girl without a hat,
+running as if hunted, was so astonishing, that the coachman reined in
+his horses before he was quite clear of what he was doing, and the lady
+in the carriage leaned forward with an eager expression, hearing the
+cry, but not having clearly descried the speaker.
+
+"What now, Goodman?" she said.
+
+"A young lady, my lady," said Goodman. "Wants to speak to you, my lady,
+I fancy."
+
+"Here, Claud," said the lady, with a laugh, "is your adventure at last!
+Make the most of it."
+
+"This is the third time you have promised me an adventure. If this
+proves to be as futile as the other two, I shall turn it up, and go
+home. I have had too many disappointments--they begin to tell on my
+nerves. Only a girl begging, is it?"
+
+"Hush!" cried Lady Mabel, laughingly holding up a finger to her brother;
+and by this time Elaine, crimson, trembling, on the verge of tears, was
+at the carriage door.
+
+The Honorable Claud Cranmer's eyes fell on the girlish figure, and took
+in everything in an instant. He thought her the most beautiful girl he
+had ever beheld; and beautiful she was in her passion and her
+excitement.
+
+Her hair-pins had all been scattered freely along the road as she
+ran--the huge plait of her deep gold hair hung down her back half
+uncoiled. It had been all loosened by her vehement motion, so that it
+framed her lovely face in picturesque disorder. The most exquisite
+carnation glowed in her transparent skin, crystal tears swam in her
+large eyes, her whole face was alight and quivering with feeling, her
+ivory throat heaved as if it would burst.
+
+Never in his life had he seen anything so totally unconventional, never
+heard anything to equal the music of the broken voice as she gasped out
+the only words that occurred to her--
+
+"Oh, I beg your pardon--do come--I must have help at once!"
+
+"What is it?--something wrong?--an accident?" said Lady Mabel, rapidly,
+in her deep, sympathetic, penetrating voice. In a flash she saw that the
+girl was a lady, and that her tribulation was no acting, but terribly
+sincere. "Try to tell me," she said, laying her hand over the trembling
+one with which Elaine grasped the edge of the carriage.
+
+"A gentleman has been murdered," cried the girl--"he has been murdered,
+there!" waving dramatically with one arm. "He is lying in the grass,
+dying, or dead. Perhaps it is only a faint--Jane is with him--won't you
+come?"
+
+Lady Mabel cast a sweeping glance at her travelling companion, as if to
+ask if here was not his adventure with a vengeance.
+
+"But oh, my dear child, I think and hope you are mistaken," said she.
+"People are not murdered out in the road in broad daylight here in
+England."
+
+"Oh, won't you come?--won't you come? I tell you he is bleeding--I saw
+the blood on Jane's hand!" cried Elaine, with a shudder of irrepressible
+repugnance.
+
+"Let us drive on at once and see to this," said Claud, with sudden
+energy, rising and letting himself out into the road. "I will go on the
+box with Goodman, if this young lady will take my seat--she looks
+fearfully exhausted."
+
+"I have run so fast," said Elaine, with a smile of apology, as, nothing
+loth, she sank into the vacant seat. "Tell him to drive quickly, won't
+you? He must take the first turning to the right."
+
+Mr. Cranmer mounted to the box, and the horses started briskly, Goodman
+being by no means less excited than his master and mistress at this
+novel experience.
+
+The girl leaned back in the carriage and hid her face. The whole of her
+frame was shaking with feeling she could not repress.
+
+Her companion looked at her with eager sympathy, and presently it seemed
+as if the magnetism of her wonderful eyes drew Elaine to look up at her,
+which she did in a timid, appealing way, as if imploring some solution
+of the mysteries of life which were bursting upon her so suddenly.
+
+It was a very remarkable face which bent down to hers--a face not so
+much beautiful as expressive. The features were so strong that they
+would have been masculine but for the eyes--such eyes! Of the darkest
+iron-grey, darkened still more by the blackness of brows and
+lashes--eyes which could flash, and melt, shine with laughter, brim with
+tears--eyes which were never the same two moments together. Their effect
+was heightened by the fact that, though Lady Mabel Wynch-Frere was
+certainly not yet forty, her hair was ashen grey, as could be seen under
+her travelling-hat.
+
+She was very small, slender, thin, and active--a person impossible to
+describe--genial, impetuous, yet one with whom no one dared take a
+liberty; a creature of moods and fancies, delighting in the unusual and
+the Quixotic.
+
+To-day's adventure suited her exactly; her eyes were full of such
+unutterable sympathy as she bent them on the frightened girl beside her,
+that whatever secret Elaine might have possessed must infallibly have
+been told to her; but Elaine's life, as we know, possessed no secrets.
+
+"Don't you trouble," said that wonderful vibrating voice, "we shall find
+it not so bad as you think. You have been sadly frightened, but it will
+all come right. Do you live near here?"
+
+"About three miles."
+
+"Will you tell me your name?"
+
+"Elaine Brabourne."
+
+"Mine is Mabel Wynch-Frere, and that is my brother, Claud Cranmer."
+
+"Taking my name in vain, Mab?" asked the Honorable Claud, half turning
+round.
+
+"Claud, this young lady's name is Brabourne," said Lady Mabel, in her
+gracious way.
+
+Claud lifted his hat and bowed, as if it were a formal introduction.
+
+"Any relation of poor Val's, I wonder?" he said.
+
+"Who was Val?"
+
+"Colonel of the 102nd before Edward got it."
+
+"Oh, I remember. Are you by chance related to the late Colonel
+Brabourne?"
+
+"He was my father," said Elaine, timidly.
+
+"Oh, ho!--then this is one of the wards in chancery," said Claud, with
+amusement in his eyes. "I beg your pardon, Miss Brabourne, but is it not
+your unenviable lot to be a ward in Chancery?"
+
+But Elaine heeded him not. The carriage had turned swiftly down the
+lane, and she had caught sight of Jane's sunbonnet crouching over that
+motionless figure in the grass. The sound of wheels made Jane look up;
+and it would be beyond the power of any pen to describe the dismay
+depicted in her countenance as the carriage stopped, and she caught
+sight of her young mistress--flushed, dishevelled, her hat gone, and the
+light of a tremendous excitement burning in her eyes.
+
+Mr. Cranmer had opened the door in a moment, and Lady Mabel, in her neat
+little travelling-dress, sprang to the ground as lightly as a girl of
+eighteen, Elaine scrambling awkwardly after her.
+
+"My word!" said Lady Mabel, impetuously, "what can be the meaning of
+this?"
+
+"I don't know who you are, mum," said Jane, bluntly, "but I can tell you
+I'm right glad to see a fellow-creature's face. It's give me such a turn
+as I never had in all my born days, sitting here alone, not knowing any
+minute whether the hand that struck this poor young man mightn't strike
+me next. There's been foul play here, sir, as sure as my name's Jane
+Gollop; and not an hour back he was sitting here a-painting quite quiet
+and happy, for Miss Elaine and me seen him as we went by to the farm."
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER V.
+
+    The past was a sleep, and her life began.
+
+    BROWNING.
+
+
+"Oh, indeed I think you must be mistaken," said Mr. Cranmer. "It can't
+be murder--it must be a sunstroke, or a fit."
+
+"Queer sunstroke, to wait till five o'clock in the evening to strike,
+and queer fit to break a man's arm," said Jane, with some warmth. "I've
+seen apoplexy, sir, and I've seen epilepsy, and I've seen many and many
+a sunstroke; I know 'em when I see 'em. This here isn't nothing of that
+sort."
+
+Claud approached, hastily cramming an eyeglass in one eye, and, stooping
+over the wounded man, without further ado pulled open his flannel shirt
+and laid a hand over his heart. His face grew grave.
+
+"We must have help for him quickly," he said, in an alert, decided tone,
+which did not seem to match his dilletante exterior. "Where is the
+nearest place to run to?"
+
+"Poole is quite close--the farmhouse yonder--I thought Miss Elaine had
+gone there," said Jane.
+
+He just touched the arm which lay powerless, the coat-sleeve soaked in
+blood, and shook his head.
+
+"You're right enough--it's no fit; it's a brutal assault," he said. "A
+robbery, I suppose. I'll run to the farm--who'll show me the way?"
+
+"I--I can run fast!" cried Elaine, who seemed to have pinned her faith
+on Mr. Cranmer.
+
+They scrambled down through the gap in the hedge, and ran breathlessly
+across the Waste. It was hard to believe that the animated, emotional
+creature whose feet seemed to fly over the uneven ground was the same as
+the dull, spiritless girl who had trailed the tip of her parasol along
+unwillingly in the dust such a short time back.
+
+"Do you know the people--at--the--farm?" panted Claud, who was not in
+training.
+
+"Oh, yes. Mind the bog--don't get over the stile, it's broken--come
+through the gap. There's Clara come back from the milking. Clara! Clara!
+call your father, call the men, quick! Something most dreadful has
+happened!"
+
+These ominous words, pronounced at the top of the shrill young voice,
+filled the farmyard as if by magic. The men and girls, the boys, the
+farmer and his wife, all rushed out of doors, and great indeed was their
+astonishment to see Miss Brabourne arrive on the scene with a perfectly
+strange gentleman as her escort. It was well that some one was at hand
+who could tell the story more coherently than poor Elaine, who by this
+time was quite at the end of her powers.
+
+No sooner did Mr. Battishill comprehend what was wanted than his fastest
+horse was saddled and his son was galloping for a doctor, while the
+farm-laborers pulled down a hurdle, and, spreading a blanket over it,
+proceeded briskly to the scene of the disaster, accompanied by the
+farmer himself.
+
+Mrs. Battishill urged Elaine to stay with her, but, though white and
+almost speechless, the girl vehemently refused--she must go back and see
+what had happened.
+
+Claud Cranmer took her hand as if she had been a little girl, and she
+clasped his vehemently with both hers.
+
+"Oh, do you think he will die?" she whispered hoarsely.
+
+"I hope not; he looks a big strong fellow. It will depend, I should
+think, on whether or not his skull is broken. He is not a friend of
+yours, is he?"
+
+"Oh, no, I never saw him in my life before. They say he is staying in
+the village."
+
+"You will be dreadfully tired after this," he said, sympathetically.
+
+"Oh, it, does not matter in the least. I am never tired; I never have
+anything to tire me. You don't really think his skull is broken, do
+you?"
+
+"If the man that struck him could break the bone of his arm in two, I'm
+afraid it looks bad for the poor chap. It's a most ghastly thing, 'pon
+my word. I never heard of such an outrage! Broad daylight in a little
+country place like this! It's horrible to think of."
+
+But he was not thinking wholly of Allonby and his mysterious fate; he
+was marvelling at the utter unconsciousness of the girl who walked
+beside him, her hand confidingly clasped in his. He had never met a girl
+so vilely dressed--never seen even a housemaid who wore such astounding
+boots; but this Miss Brabourne was evidently not in the least aware of
+how far her toilette came short of the requirements of an exacting
+society. In spite of the urgency of the moment, by the time they arrived
+back at the scene of action, he was lost in a speculation as to how long
+it would take this anomaly in the way of girlhood, if suddenly
+transported into the midst of fashionable London, to discover her own
+latent capabilities.
+
+Lady Mabel had not been idle in their absence. She had slit Allonby's
+coat-sleeve, pulled his jointed mahl-stick to pieces, and contrived an
+impromptu splint for the broken arm therewith. She was supporting his
+head in her lap, and bathing it with the contents of her vinaigrette.
+
+The wounded man's eyes were open, and he was moving his head uneasily
+and slowly, groaning deeply every now and then. It was plain that he was
+quite unconscious of his surroundings, and that he suffered much.
+
+Elaine crept up with a fixed stare of wonder, and crouched down on the
+grass near. His eyes fell on her a moment,--they were big, honest, hazel
+eyes,--and the girl shivered and shrank, turning crimson as she met his
+gaze, though it was vacant and wild, and wandered off elsewhere in
+another second.
+
+"Oh, if he would not groan so! Oh, how he suffers; he is going to die,"
+she cried, mournfully.
+
+Jane came up and drew her away, as the men assembled round the prostrate
+figure, and lifted it on to the hurdle, Mr. Cranmer carefully supporting
+the head, which was laid on a soft shawl of Lady Mabel's.
+
+All the sky was scarlet and rose, and all the fields tinged with the
+same hue, as the small procession started to carry the sufferer with as
+little jolting as possible. The sun caught the windows of Poole and made
+them flare like torches.
+
+Among the crushed grass where Allonby had lain was a dark wet stain. How
+sad the easel looked, with its picture just begun! The palette had
+fallen face downwards, the brushes were scattered hither and thither.
+
+Lady Mabel began to collect them, and to pack them into the open
+color-box.
+
+"Come, Miss Elaine, dear, we must run home. Your aunts will be sending
+out to see after us," said Jane, nervously re-tying her bonnet strings.
+
+"I cannot walk a step," said the girl, who was seated on the grass, as
+white as marble. "You must go and tell them so--go and leave me."
+
+"Miss Elaine, my dear!" cried Jane, totally at a loss. Elaine was
+usually perfectly obedient.
+
+"I will drive Miss Brabourne home," said Lady Mabel, coming forward.
+"She is quite over-wrought. I should like to see her aunts, for I am
+nearly sure my husband knew Colonel Brabourne. Claud, what are you going
+to do?"
+
+Her brother jerked his glass suddenly out of his eye and turned towards
+them; he had been apparently contemplating the distance with an
+abstracted air.
+
+"Is there an inn in your village?" he asked of Jane.
+
+"Yes, sir."
+
+"Could we stay the night there?"
+
+"Dear heart, sir, no, this lady couldn't. It's very rough, clean, and
+they're decent folks, but just a village public, sir. This poor young
+man was staying there, they say. I make no doubt but Mrs. Clapp'll be
+wondering after him."
+
+"What do you want to do, Claud?" said his sister.
+
+"I want to investigate this highway robbery a little," he answered. "It
+is interesting to me--very. I should have liked to have Goodman with me;
+so I thought, if there was any accommodation at the village, you might
+drive on, put up, and send Goodman back to rejoin me here."
+
+"And let him find you also lying by the wayside with a broken head?"
+said Lady Mabel.
+
+He smiled.
+
+"Not likely to attempt two such outrages in the same spot, on the same
+evening," he said. "No. I'll tell you what I will do: I must go up to
+the farm and see to this poor fellow. He may have friends who should be
+telegraphed to. I'll get a bed here for the night, if you will give me
+my bag out of the carriage; you must drive through the village, stop at
+the inn to let the good folks know what has become of their lodger, and
+then on to the Stanton hotel as we planned. The farmer shall lend me a
+trap to-morrow, and I'll join you."
+
+"You think of everything," said his sister, admiringly, "but, Claud, I
+wonder if these people know anything of nursing--I am so uneasy till the
+doctor has delivered his verdict--is there a nurse in the village that I
+could send up, I wonder?"
+
+"There's a very good nurse in the village," said Jane Gollop, "the
+Misses Willoughby let her have a cottage rent free, and all her milk,
+and eggs, and butter from their own farm. We pass her cottage, if you
+please, 'm."
+
+"Very good. Tell Mrs. Battishill I shall send her up," said Lady Mabel,
+getting into the carriage. "It is so light now, we shall get to Stanton
+before dark, don't you think so, Goodman?"
+
+"Yes, my lady. It's not dark at nine o'clock now."
+
+"No, no. Take care of yourself, Claud."
+
+Her brother nodded, then turned to lift Elaine from the grass, where she
+sat motionless, staring at the road where the lifeless form of Allonby
+had been carried.
+
+"Come," said Mr. Cranmer, gently.
+
+"It's all over now," sighed Elaine.
+
+"What is over?" he asked.
+
+"What happened. Nothing ever happens in Edge Combe. This is the first
+thing that ever happened to me in my life, now it is over."
+
+"Miss Elaine, my dear, don't stay talking," cried Jane, in a fright. She
+thought her charge was light-headed with the excitement she had gone
+through. The girl said no more, but submitted to be put into the
+carriage with Lady Mabel, and sank down with a sigh into the corner,
+turning her face away from that fateful patch of roadside grass. Goodman
+helped Jane gallantly to a seat beside him. Claud lingered, with his
+hands resting on the top of the carriage door, his eyes on Elaine's
+face.
+
+"You do look pale," he said, "a lily maid indeed."
+
+The rich color flew to her face as he had hoped it would, but he could
+see by the look in her eyes that she had not understood his allusion in
+the least.
+
+"Breathes there a girl within the four seas who has not read the Idylls
+of the King?" he pondered, wondering. Then, just as the carriage was
+starting, he cried out,
+
+"Hi! Goodman! One thing more--as you go through the village, send me up
+the constable."
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER VI.
+
+    Too often, clad in radiant vest,
+    Deceitfully goes forth the morn;
+    Too often evening in the west
+    Sinks, smilingly forsworn.
+
+    WORDSWORTH.
+
+
+Claud Cranmer stood still in the road, watching the carriage till it
+disappeared round a bend in the winding way.
+
+Then he turned, and gravely surveyed the scene of action. The hedge on
+one side of the lane--the side on which they had found Allonby--was
+broken and full of gaps. The lane on this side was skirted, first by a
+hay-field, and further on by the piece of ground known as the "Waste,"
+through which, as has been before stated, an oblique footpath led to the
+wicket-gate in Mrs. Battishill's flower-garden.
+
+Persons crossing this Waste were in full view of the windows of Poole.
+The field which adjoined the Waste was to be cut to-morrow. It was full
+of tall rich grass, through which no mortal could have passed without
+leaving most evident traces of his passage behind him.
+
+On the further side of the lane was a very tall, quick-set hedge, thick
+and compact, without a hole or a rent anywhere. Below it was a deep
+ditch, along the brink of which Mr. Cranmer walked, eyeing the long
+grasses and weeds keenly for the smallest trace of trampling or
+disorder.
+
+There was none.
+
+Crossing the road again, he sat down on the stile leading to the Waste,
+and reflected.
+
+Jane and Miss Brabourne had come up the lane from the direction of Edge
+Combe. They had crossed this piece of ground, noticed the artist at
+work, and proceeded to the farm beyond. In about half-an-hour they had
+returned by the road, to find the outrage committed and no traces of the
+robber to be seen.
+
+It appeared unlikely, then, to say the least of it, that this robber
+should have come from the direction of Poole Farm.
+
+Any loitering man would have been noticed by them as they passed; there
+was not a single clump of bush on the Waste large enough to conceal a
+man from the view of anyone crossing by the footpath. It seemed also to
+Mr. Cranmer to be exceedingly improbable that the villain should have
+approached along the road by which the carriage had come--that is to
+say, that he had been walking _towards_ Edge Combe, because the artist
+had been sitting directly facing anyone who came from that direction,
+and must have seen and noticed a passer-by on that lonely road.
+
+Probability then suggested it as most likely that the tramp, or whoever
+it was, who had struck to such purpose, had approached his victim from
+the direction of the village of Edge Combe--had simply walked along the
+lane, come up behind the unsuspecting artist, and without warning
+administered the blow on the head, which was quite enough to leave the
+strongest man helpless in his hands. Of course, it was all mere
+speculation, still, it might afford a clue; for, if a stranger, a tramp,
+or a suspicious-looking person had passed through the village that
+afternoon, he was certain to have been noticed, and probably there were
+several who could identify such a one.
+
+Then, if he had approached along the lane, how had he escaped?
+
+Most probably by simply walking on along the solitary lane till he came
+to the high-road. Here was another negative piece of evidence. If this
+had been his course, he must, when he reached the high-road, have turned
+to the right, towards Stanton, because Lady Mabel and her brother,
+driving from Philmouth, must have met him if he had turned to the left;
+and Mr. Cranmer clearly recollected that they had met no such person.
+
+All this, of course, was very elementary reasoning; because there were a
+thousand places in which a tramp might have concealed himself, out of
+the main road. Yet it appeared to the young man likely that one who
+presumed sufficiently on the isolation of the neighborhood to commit
+such an assault in broad daylight, almost within view of the windows of
+a large farmhouse, would be hardy enough to adopt the course of simply
+walking off down the road after securing his booty,--a far safer plan
+and less likely to attract suspicion than skulking in fields or
+outhouses.
+
+But, altogether, the more he thought of it, the more incredible, the
+more outrageous the whole thing appeared to be.
+
+Surely the artist would not be likely to have enough of value on him
+during a sketching-tour, to make the robbing of him worth such an
+enormous hazard! His costume, as Claud remembered, had been simplicity
+itself--white flannel shirt and trousers, with rough, short grey coat
+and cloth helmet.
+
+He would carry a watch and chain--most likely; a signet ring--very
+probably. About a pound's worth of loose silver; aggregate value of
+entire spoils, perhaps ten pounds, for the watch would be very likely
+silver, or the chain worthless. Could there be more--far more in the
+affair than met the eye? Could this artist be a man who had enemies? Was
+there some wildly sensational tale of hatred and vengeance underlying
+the mysterious circumstances?
+
+Claud pondered, as he raised his neat brown felt hat and wiped his
+forehead. He was overcome with a desire to see and question the victim.
+From him something might be ascertained, at least, of the plan of
+attack.
+
+He set out to walk to Poole Farm, remarking casually to himself, in a
+depressed way, that nature never intended him for a detective.
+
+"But I wonder what a detective would have done under the circumstances?"
+he mused. "I could not observe mysterious footprints in the grass near,
+for Miss Brabourne's well-meaning but clumsy handmaiden had trodden it
+all flat by the time I arrived on the scene. I have examined the road
+and banks for shreds of evidence. I have picked up a hairpin, which I
+have reason to believe is Miss Brabourne's. Ought I to put it in my
+pocket-book to show to the real _bona-fide_ detective when he arrives on
+the scene? It would hardly be of service, I suppose, to preserve any of
+the blood? Ought I to have left the paints and messes in the exact order
+in which they fell, I wonder? It's too late to reflect on that now,
+however," he added, with a glance at the paint-box, which he carried
+strapped up in one hand, the easel being over his shoulder. The
+beautiful calmness of the evening seemed to him horribly at variance
+with the tragedy just enacted. "It's like that funny hymn which little
+Peggy sings,
+
+    'Every prospect pleases, and only man is vile.'
+
+Certainly man in his worst aspect is a contemptible reptile," he sighed,
+as he walked up the little pebble walk, where the wall-flowers drowned
+the air with sweetness.
+
+Inside, in the kitchen, a lively scene presented itself. Mrs.
+Battishill, having deposited the sick man in bed, had just come down for
+towels and hot water, and was flying from linen-press to boiler-tap with
+a volley of words and some agitation. Her daughter Clara, a slight,
+delicate girl who would have been pretty had she not attempted to be
+fashionable, wearing steels in her dress, and a large imitation gold
+watch chain, was trying somewhat feebly to help her mother, and holding
+the kettle so unsteadily that the water splashed on the clean flags. A
+group of men and boys stood round awestruck, anxious to glean every bit
+of information that could be given.
+
+There was a murmur as Claud appeared, and everyone made room for him to
+enter.
+
+"Missis--here be the London gentleman," said a great benevolent-looking
+laborer who stood near the door.
+
+"Eh? Oh, come in, sir. Declare I near forgot you in the hurry of it.
+Saul, my boy, take the things from the gentleman, there's a dearr lamb."
+
+A tall boy about sixteen came forward, and held out his hands for the
+easel with a lovely smile.
+
+Mr. Cranmer resigned his burden with a momentary admiration of the
+beauty of the West of England peasantry, and came forward to where Mrs.
+Battishill was standing.
+
+"As I was saying, sir, I grudges nothing; the time, nor the food, nor
+the bed, nor anything; but if he could have managed to fall ill at any
+other time than right on top o' my hay harvest! Lord knows how I'm going
+to du! There'll be thirty men to feed to-morrow, sir, count heads all
+round, and it's one woman's work to get ready the victuals, I can tell
+you, and Clara and the gal doing everything wrong if I so much as turns
+my head away! And if I'm to be up all night----"
+
+He was able to calm her considerably with the hope of the village
+nurse's speedy arrival, and was on the point of asking to go up and see
+the patient, when a clatter of hoofs was heard, and the doctor appeared
+on the scene.
+
+He was a rough, surly, middle-aged man, totally without any modern ideas
+of comfort or consideration, but with broken limbs and broken heads he
+was in his element, for he had a sharp practice amongst the quarrymen.
+
+Mrs. Battishill went upstairs with him, and Claud sat on the
+kitchen-table, swinging his legs.
+
+"Clara," said he, "I am most fearfully hungry."
+
+A giggle went round the assembly, as Clara, blushing rosy red, ran to
+get him some bread and cream, and a draught of cider.
+
+"This is food for the gods," said the hungry Claud, as he covered his
+bread thickly with scalded cream. "This is indeed a land flowing with
+milk and honey."
+
+"I can get yer some hooney tu, if yer wants it," murmured Clara, very
+low, with drooping eyes.
+
+"No, no, I was only speaking metaphorically," said he, laughing. "How
+old are you, Clara?"
+
+"A'm seventeen, sirr."
+
+"Ah! That's a fine age. And how old's your brother?"
+
+"A've tu broothers, sirr."
+
+"Oh, two--which be they?" said Claud, wiping his lips, and surveying his
+admiring audience.
+
+The two Battishills stepped forward, grinning.
+
+"Oh! isn't that tall fellow with the light hair your brother?" he said,
+indicating the boy whom Mrs. Battishill had called Saul.
+
+She shook her head, and there was a general titter, while the words
+"sorft," "innocent," could be heard, by which means he gradually
+gathered that Saul was the village idiot, at home everywhere and beloved
+everywhere. Finding himself the object of general attention, the boy
+crept behind Clara, who was a head shorter than he, and hid his face in
+her neck till only his beautiful golden curls were visible.
+
+She leaned back, her arms on his hips, blushing and laughing.
+
+"He's turrible shy with strangers," she said, "he can't bear 'em. Stan'
+up straight, thee girt fule, Saul!"
+
+Claud thought it as picturesque an interior as Teniers ever painted. The
+great hearth, with its seats each side of the chimney, the glowing
+fire, the white washed walls, the shining tins on the dresser, the
+amused, absorbed faces of the peasantry, and through the open door a
+waft of pure air with a glimpse of trees and evening sky.
+
+He turned next to Joe Battishill, a comely young man of one and twenty.
+
+"What do you think of this affair?" he asked. "You know these parts--I
+don't. Has such a thing ever happened before?"
+
+There was a chorus of "No!" and at least half a dozen started forward to
+vindicate their country side of such a charge. All were convinced that
+it was the work of some tramp, and then Claud proceeded to give them his
+ideas on the subject. It was agreed that the stranger spoke sound sense,
+and several volunteered to organize search parties. This was just what
+he wanted them to do, and he despatched some towards Edge Combe, some
+along the highroad to Stanton, and with these last he sent a scribbled
+note, enclosing his card, to the Stanton constabulary.
+
+He begged them to watch every tramp, every suspicious character that
+passed through the town. Just as he was in the act of writing, and
+waxing quite excited in his converse with the men, the doctor was heard
+lumbering downstairs.
+
+A dozen eager faces darted forward to hear the news, but the doctor
+marched in solemn silence through the group, and took up his position in
+front of the great fire, facing the assembly.
+
+"A won't speak a worrd till he's had his ciderr," whispered Mrs.
+Battishill to Claud, and Clara went flying past him into the cellar.
+
+Meanwhile Dr. Forbes' sharp eyes had travelled round the room till they
+rested on Claud, and the two stood staring at one another in a manner
+irresistibly comic to the latter.
+
+Certainly Mr. Cranmer introduced a foreign element into the society, an
+element the doctor would scarcely be prepared to find in Mrs.
+Battishill's kitchen. He was not above middle height, and slightly
+built. In complexion he was somewhat fair, with closely cropped, smooth
+dust-colored hair and moustache, and a pale face. His eyes were grey and
+usually half shut, and he might have been any age you please, from five
+and twenty to forty. He had no pretence to good looks of any kind, but
+he possessed an elegance not very easy to describe--a grace of bearing,
+a gentleness of manner, a readiness of speech, which no doubt he owed to
+his Irish origin. He was a conspicuously neat person, never rumpled,
+never disarrayed, and now, after his very unusual exertions, his collar
+and tie were in perfect order, his fresh, quiet, light suit was
+spotless, and his neat brown felt "bowler" lay on the table at his side
+without even a flack of dust.
+
+His glass was in his eye, and he held a piece of bread and cream in his
+hand. Feeling the doctor's eyes upon him, he deliberately ate a
+mouthful; then, rising his mug of cider:
+
+"I drink your good health, sir," he said. "How do you find your
+patient?"
+
+"My patient, sir," said Dr. Forbes, in a loud, resonant voice, "has had
+as foul usage as ever I saw in my life. He'll pull through, he has a
+splendid constitution. I never saw a finer physique; but he'll have a
+fight for it."
+
+At this point Clara brought up the cider, which the doctor drained at
+one long steady pull, after which he wiped his large expressive mouth.
+
+"If the blow on his head had been as hard as those that followed it,
+he'd have been a dead man by now," he said presently. "But luckily it
+was not. It was only strong enough to stun him. But there's a broken arm
+and a couple of broken ribs, and wounds and contusions all over him.
+Sir, if the weapon employed had equalled the goodwill of him who
+employed it, there would have been a fine funeral here at Edge Combe
+to-morrow."
+
+"Then," said Claud, eagerly, "what do you think the blows were inflicted
+with?"
+
+"A stick--a cudgel of some sort," said the doctor, "but I'll swear they
+were given by a novice--by a man that didn't know where to hit, but just
+slashed at the prostrate carcase promiscuously. Why, if that first blow
+on the head had been followed by another to match--there would have been
+the business done at once! But I can't conceive the motive--that's what
+baffles me, sir."
+
+"But--don't you think the motive was robbery?" cried Claud, excitedly.
+
+"What did he rob him of?" said the doctor; and opening his enormous
+hand, he showed a handsome gold watch and chain, a ring with a sunk
+diamond in it, a sovereign or two, and some loose silver.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER VII.
+
+    Where the quiet-colored end of evening smiles,
+                    Miles on miles
+    On the solitary pastures, where our sheep,
+                    Half asleep,
+    Tinkle homeward in the twilight--stay or stop
+                    As they crop.
+
+    BROWNING.
+
+
+There was a general hush, during which the doctor surveyed Mr. Cranmer
+keenly.
+
+"What _can_ be the meaning of it?" cried Claud, thoroughly disconcerted
+and at fault.
+
+"That's past my telling, or the telling of anybody else, I think," said
+Dr. Forbes, slowly. "It's the most mysterious thing in the whole course
+of my professional experience." He eyed Claud again. "Will you be a
+friend of his?" he asked.
+
+"No, no--I know nothing of him at all," said the young man, proceeding
+briefly to relate how strangely he had been summoned to the scene of the
+tragedy. The Scotchman listened attentively, and then asked abruptly:
+
+"Since ye take so kindly an interest in the poor lad, will ye come up
+and see him?"
+
+"I should like to," said Claud at once.
+
+"Should we go after all, sir?" asked Joe Battishill, diffidently.
+
+"What--on the search expeditions? Yes, it would be as well to rouse the
+neighborhood," said Cranmer, after a moment's consideration; "but tell
+the Stanton constables this extraordinary fact about the property not
+being taken. If only I could get a word with the poor fellow
+himself,--if only he were conscious!"
+
+"He'll not be conscious yet awhile," said the doctor.
+
+They ascended the old stairs with their weighty bannisters, the loud
+tread with which the doctor crossed the kitchen having vanished
+entirely. His step was noiseless as he opened the bed-room door. It was
+a big room, airy and clean, and the bed was a large and cumbersome
+four-poster, with pink hangings. Among a forest of pillows lay Allonby,
+his fine proportions shrouded in one of Farmer Battishill's
+night-shirts. His eyes were wide open, and with the arm which was not
+strapped up he was beating wearily on the counterpane.
+
+The farmer's wife, having no ice, was laying bandages of vinegar and
+water on his head to cool him. The doctor had set the casement window
+wide open, and the low clucking of the fowls in the farmyard was softly
+audible. Mr. Cranmer approached the bedside and looked down at the
+sufferer.
+
+Allonby was a fine-looking young man--perhaps thirty years old, with
+strongly defined features and a pale complexion. He had a rather long,
+hooked nose, his eyes were set in deep under hollow brows, and his chin
+was prominent, giving a marked individuality to the face, which was,
+however, too thin for beauty. It was the face of a man who was always
+rather anxious, to whom the realities of life were irksome, but who had
+nevertheless always to consider the question of L s. d.--a worn face,
+which just now, in its suffering and pallid aspect, looked very sad. The
+soft dark brown hair lay in a loose wave over a fine and thoughtful
+forehead. It was with an instinct of warm friendliness that the gazer
+turned from the bedside.
+
+"Oh, what a shame it is!" he said, indignantly. "I think I never heard
+of such a butchery. But now, the thing is to find his friends. Had he a
+pocket-book with him? If not, I must walk down to the inn and
+inquire--he must have left letters or papers somewhere."
+
+"Here's a pocket-book," said the doctor, holding out a leathern pouch of
+untidy and well-worn appearance.
+
+Claud carried it to the window, and opened it. It contained several
+receipted bills, six postage-stamps, two five-pound notes, a couple of
+photographs of a racing crew in striped jerseys, with the name "Byrne,
+Richmond," on the back of them, an exhibitor's admission to the Royal
+Academy exhibition, and several cards of invitation and private view
+tickets. These served to elucidate the fact that the artist's name was
+Osmond Allonby, but no more.
+
+He lifted the grey coat which hung over a chair, and felt in all its
+pockets. At last, from the outer one, he unearthed a pocket handkerchief
+and a letter addressed to
+
+    _O. Allonby, Esq.,
+    At "The Fountain Head,"
+    Edge Combe,
+    South Devon._
+
+"I hope he'll forgive my opening it, poor chap," said Claud, and he
+pulled the paper from its envelope.
+
+The address, as is customary in letters between people who know each
+other intimately, was insufficient. It was merely "7, Mansfield Road."
+He glanced over the beginning--it was quaint enough.
+
+"How are you getting on, old man? We are being fried alive here, and the
+weather has put old C---- into such an unbearable rage that Jac says he
+has brought out the old threat once more, all the girls are to be turned
+out of the R. A. schools!"
+
+The reader was sorely tempted to continue this effusion, but nobly
+skipped all the rest of the closely-written sheet, and merely looked at
+the signature.
+
+    "Always your loving sister,
+
+    "WYN."
+
+"How much trouble young ladies would save, if only they would sign their
+names properly!" said Claud, somewhat exasperated. "However, if she is
+his sister I suppose it is fair to conclude her name to be Allonby. Wyn
+Allonby!"
+
+He turned to the envelope, and in a moment of inspiration bethought him
+of the postmark. It bore the legend, London, S. W.
+
+"That's enough!" he said, "now I can telegraph. That's all I wanted to
+know. Mrs. Battishill, will you kindly take all these things and lock
+them up in a drawer, please, for Mr. Allonby's people to have when they
+come."
+
+He proceeded to wrap the watch, chain, pocket-book, etc., all together
+in a paper, and deposited them in a drawer which Mrs. Battishill locked
+and took the key.
+
+Claud could hardly restrain a smile as he busied himself thus. The idea
+would occur to him of how ridiculous it was that he, Claud Cranmer,
+should be so occupied!--of what Mab would say if she could only see this
+preternatural, this business-like seriousness!--of what all the men at
+the "Eaton" would say!--of how they would shout with laughter at the
+idea of his posing as the hero of such a predicament!--of what a tale
+it would be for everyone down in the shires that autumn!
+
+A voice from Allonby suddenly recalled him to the present. He approached
+the bed-side full of pity, trying to catch the fragments of speech which
+the sick man uttered with difficulty from time to time.
+
+"And now farewell!--I am going a long way," said Allonby, and after a
+pause again repeated, "I am going a long way ... if indeed I go,--for
+all my mind is clouded with a doubt,--to the island valley of----"
+
+A pause, then again.
+
+"To the island valley of--what is it? where is it? I forget--I cannot
+say it,--to the island valley of----"
+
+"Avilion?" suggested Claud.
+
+There was a sigh of relief.
+
+"Yes--that's it! that's it! The Island Valley of Avilion, where I will
+heal me of my--grievous wound."
+
+"Now I wonder what has put that into his head?" said Claud.
+
+"Following up some previous train of thought most probably," said the
+doctor. "The subject for a picture I should say very likely. Let him be,
+poor lad."
+
+Clara here tapped softly at the door, to say that the nurse had arrived;
+and Claud was despatched downstairs to send her up, the doctor remaining
+to give her directions.
+
+Joe Battishill and another young laborer were waiting at the door for
+"the gentleman's orders," and when he had sent up the nurse--a nice
+motherly, clean-looking woman,--he sat down to write out his telegram.
+
+"Beg pardon, sir," said a big man, pushing past the others to the table,
+"but I should like half-a-dozen words wi' ye. I'm Willum Clapp as keeps
+the 'Fountain Head,' and my missus be in a fine takin' about this poor
+young chap, an' I wants to hear all that's took place."
+
+"Oh, you're the landlord of the 'Fountain Head,' are you?" said Claud,
+"you're just the man I wanted to see. Can you account in any way for
+this that has happened? What sort of man was your lodger,
+quiet?--peaceable?"
+
+William Clapp broke out into a warm eulogium on the virtues of "Muster
+Allonba!"
+
+He was quiet, gentle, good-humored, and had his word and his joke for
+everyone. He had only received two letters since he came to Edge, one of
+which he put in the fire after reading it. This Mr. Clapp specially
+remembered, because his lodger had to come into the kitchen to
+accomplish the said feat, there being, naturally, no fire in the
+sitting-room. He had started from the inn that morning a little before
+mid-day, with his dinner done up in a blue handkerchief--
+
+"And that minds me, sirr, to ask if Missus Battishill could let my
+missus have back the handkercher and the pudding-dish, as there'll be
+sooch a-many dinners to send out to the hayfields to-morrow."
+
+"Oh--certainly, I suppose Mrs. Clapp can have her things; just ask after
+them, some of you fellows. And now tell me," said Claud, "did Mr.
+Allonby know anybody down in these parts?"
+
+"No, sirr, I don't think he did."
+
+"Are you sure?"
+
+"Sure as can be, sirr. At least, if a did, a said nowt abaout it to me
+or the missus."
+
+"Nobody ever came to see him?"
+
+"No, sirr, that I'm certain on!"
+
+"Did he seem as if he had anything on his mind?"
+
+"No, that a didn't, for my missus said as haow she neverr see such a
+light-hearted chap in herr life!"
+
+Claud pondered deeply, nursing one knee and staring at the kitchen
+floor.
+
+"You see, this is what bothers me, Mr. Clapp," he said. "It was an
+assault apparently without any motive whatever, for Mr. Allonby was not
+robbed."
+
+"Eh, it's as queer a thing as ever I heard on, and as awful," said
+William Clapp. "In the meedst of life we are in death, as I've often
+heared in church, sirr! Why, the mowers in Miss Willoughby's grass, and
+Loud at the smithy, they see him go by a-laughing and a-giving everyone
+good-morning as perlite and well-mannered as could be; and the next one
+hears of him----!"
+
+The farmer made an eloquent gesture with his hand.
+
+"Well, I'm just writing a message to his people, Mr. Clapp," said Claud.
+"I found a letter from his sister in London, and I thought the best
+thing to do was to telegraph for her to come straight."
+
+"If _you_ please, sirr," said the landlord, "anything me or my missus
+can do----"
+
+"I am sure of it, and thank you kindly. I may want a bed at your house
+to-morrow night, but I'll let you know."
+
+He rapidly pencilled a message to--
+
+    _Miss Wyn Allonby,
+    7 Mansfield Road,
+    London, S. W._
+
+Then paused a minute.
+
+"I don't even know whether she's married or not," he reflected.
+"However, I should think this would find her any way; people usually
+open telegrams."
+
+He wrote:
+
+     "_Accident to Mr. Allonby. Serious. Has been taken to Poole Farm.
+     11.30 train Waterloo to Stanton shall be met to-morrow._"
+
+He glanced up at the landlord.
+
+"I will add your name," he said, "and address,--it will be better."
+
+So he added, "Clapp, Fountain Head Inn," and passed the paper over to
+Joe Battishill, who gravely began to count the syllables.
+
+"One and twopence, please, sir," said Joe.
+
+Claud tossed him half-a-crown.
+
+"You'll want something when you get to Stanton," he said; "you can keep
+the change."
+
+Clara came creeping down the stair, looking white and nervous.
+
+"Please, sir, mother say she never saw no blue handkercher nor
+pudding-basin neither."
+
+"Eh?" said Claud. "Well, now I come to think of it, no more did I; I
+suppose it was left by the wayside."
+
+"I'll be bold to say it wasn't," said William Clapp, "for I walked oop
+right past the place, and I should a known my missus's dish-clout, bless
+yer."
+
+"I suppose it's hidden among the grass," said Mr. Cranmer, after a
+moment's thought. "Let us go and look. Is your mother sure it was not
+brought here, Clara?"
+
+"Certain sure, sir. Nobody carried away anything but mother, who took
+the peecture, an' you as carried the box and easel."
+
+"Could Miss Brabourne's servant have taken it?" suggested Claud.
+
+"Nay, sir, a think not," said Clapp, "for a stopped to speak to my
+missus, and she would ha' gi'en her the things if she had 'em."
+
+"Let's go and look!" cried Claud, seizing his hat again.
+
+The sun had set at last--what a long lime it seemed to have taken
+to-night! The rosy afterglow dyed all the heavens, and the trees were
+outlined black against it. As they hurried through the Waste, it seemed
+to the young man as if he had known the neighborhood for years; ages
+appeared to have elapsed since the afternoon, when he had been soberly
+driving with Mab along the coach-road, accomplishing the last stage in
+their pleasant, uneventful ten days' driving-tour. How little he had
+thought, when he planned that driving-tour for Mab, who had been
+thoroughly wearied out with an epidemic of whooping-cough in her
+nursery, that it would lead to consequences such as these. He was
+profoundly interested in the mysterious circumstances of this affair in
+which, somehow, he had been made to play such a prominent part. Come
+what might, he must stay and see it out. Mab might go home if she
+liked--in fact, he thought she had better telegraph to Edward to come
+and fetch her. The children were all at Eastbourne with the nurses, and
+she would have a chance of quiet if she went for a few days to the
+"mater's" inconvenient dark little house in Provost Street, Park Lane;
+and----
+
+"Here you are, sirr," said William Clapp, in his broad Devon. "Where's
+the missus's dishclout?"
+
+In fact, it was not to be seen. They searched for it high and low, in
+vain. Mr. Cranmer felt as if he were in the toils of that mixture of the
+ghastly and the absurd which we call nightmare. This last detail was too
+ridiculous! That a gentleman should be waylaid and murdered on the
+king's highway, and all for the sake of a blue handkerchief and a
+pudding-basin! In his mingled feelings of amusement and annoyance, he
+did not know whether to laugh or be angry--the whole thing was too
+incredible, too monstrous.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER VIII.
+
+    "Thy steps are dancing towards the bound
+      Between the child and woman,
+    And thoughts and feelings more profound
+      And other years are coming;
+    And thou shalt be more deeply fair,
+      More precious to the heart,
+    But never canst thou be again
+      The lovely thing thou art."
+
+    SIDNEY WALKER.
+
+
+"My dear, I cannot understand it!" said Miss Charlotte Willoughby.
+
+"It is most strange--you don't think Mrs. Battishill can have kept them
+to tea?" hazarded Miss Fanny, in her gentle way.
+
+Miss Charlotte crushed her, as usual.
+
+"Jane stay out to tea without leave? She has never done such thing a
+before."
+
+"It's very warm. They may be lingering on account of the heat," put in
+Miss Ellen's quiet voice.
+
+"The heat is not too great for any healthy girl," said Miss Emily, with
+decision. "I have noticed lately in Elaine a very languid and dawdling
+way of doing things. I shall speak to her on the subject. I don't know
+what she has to occupy her thoughts, but she evidently is never thinking
+of what she is doing."
+
+"She is a dear good child, on the whole," said Miss Fanny, comfortably.
+
+"I cannot help thinking that she sometimes finds her life dull," said
+Ellen.
+
+"Dull!" cried the three ladies in chorus; and Charlotte added, in high
+and amazed tones:
+
+"Why, she is occupied from morning till night!"
+
+"It was only to-day I let her off a quarter-of-an-hour practising on
+account of the heat," continued Fanny.
+
+"If you think she might devote more time to her calisthenics----" began
+Emily.
+
+"It was not that I meant at all," said Ellen, when she could get a
+hearing. "I do not complain of want of occupation for hers, but want of
+amusement."
+
+"I was always taught to consider," said Charlotte, in a tone of some
+displeasure, "that those who were fully employed need never complain of
+_ennui_. Occupation is amusement."
+
+"Then, to follow on your argument," said Ellen, half playfully, "the
+convicts who are sentenced to hard labor must have a most amusing time
+of it."
+
+This remark, savoring dangerously of irony, was received by the three
+sisters with utter silence, and Charlotte thought, as she often did,
+what a pity it was that Ellen read so many books; really it quite warped
+her judgment.
+
+"Of course everything should be in moderation," she said frigidly, after
+a pause; "too severe labor would be as bad for the body as too little is
+for the mind."
+
+This speech sounded rather well, and Charlotte's temper was somewhat
+soothed by the feeling that she had made a hit.
+
+Miss Ellen sighed. She felt that nothing could be done on Elaine's
+behalf, if she began by setting up the backs of the entire council of
+education. Yet so narrow had the minds of these excellent women grown,
+by living so perpetually in one groove, that it seemed impossible even
+to hint that they were mistaken without putting them out of temper.
+
+"Of course I know that occupation is most necessary," said she, "and I
+agree with you that every woman should be well employed; but I only
+wanted to suggest that perhaps a little more variety than we find
+necessary might be good for the young. We are glad to live our quiet,
+untroubled days through; but for Elaine,--don't you think that some
+diversion now and then would be beneficial? Remember, as girls, we went
+to London for a month each spring, our dear father always gave us that
+treat; and I know that I, at least, used to get through my work here
+with all the greater zest because of looking forward to that month's
+enjoyment."
+
+"And what is the result?" burst out Miss Charlotte, with quite unusual
+energy. "What is the result of all this going to London, pray? I am sure
+I heartily wish, and Fanny for one agrees with me, that we had never
+gone near the place! If we had not gadded about to London our poor
+pretty Alice would never have met that vile Valentine Brabourne with his
+deceitful face, and the family tragedy would never have taken place----"
+
+"And we should never have had Elaine to brighten our home and give us
+something to care for," said Ellen, speaking bravely, though the
+remembrance of her favorite sister brought the color to her wan face,
+and dimmed her eyes.
+
+"You know the reason we never took Elaine to London was to keep her as
+much as possible dissociated from her step-mother and step-brother,"
+went on Miss Charlotte, combatively.
+
+"Yes, I know," answered her sister, quietly, "and that is where I think
+we have been so wrong. Because, much as we may have disliked Mrs.
+Brabourne, she was Valentine Brabourne's wife, and we had no right to
+allow Elaine to grow up quite estranged from her brother."
+
+This took Charlotte's breath quite away. It was rare to hear Ellen
+assert herself at all, but to hear her deliberately say that Charlotte
+was wrong----!
+
+"I am much more to blame than any of you," went on Ellen, "because I
+will admit that, at the time Elaine came to us, I was very, very sore at
+the conduct of Mrs. Brabourne and her relations, and I was only eager to
+get possession of the child and keep her from them all; but I was quite
+wrong, Charlotte. Think what an interest her little brother would have
+been to her."
+
+"Well, I do think, Ellen, you cannot quite reflect on what you are
+saying," said Charlotte, her tongue loosed at last in a perfect torrent
+of words. "I have always said you read too many books, and I suppose you
+have some romantic notion of reconciliation in your head now. I have
+every respect for you, Ellen, as the head of this family, but you must
+allow me to say that, invalid as you are, and always confined to the
+house, you are apt to be taken hold of by crotchets and fancies. Let us
+look for a moment at the facts of the case: do you consider that Mrs.
+Brabourne was a fit person to have the bringing-up of Elaine?"
+
+"No, I frankly say I do not. I am not suggesting that Mrs. Brabourne
+should have brought her up."
+
+"Do you consider that the Ortons would be a nice house for Elaine to be
+constantly visiting at?"
+
+"No, Charlotte, I cannot say I do."
+
+"Do you imagine it at all likely that we could have been on terms of any
+intimacy with Mrs. Brabourne and her brother _without_ allowing Elaine
+to visit there?"
+
+"It might have been difficult," Miss Ellen, with rising color was
+constrained to admit; "but I was not advocating intimacy exactly; only
+that Elaine should be on friendly terms with little Godfrey."
+
+"Is she _not_ on friendly terms? I am sure then it is not my fault. She
+sends him a card every Christmas and a present every birthday, and
+always writes to her step-mother once a year. I really do not see how
+one could go much further without the intimacy which you admit is
+undesirable," cried Charlotte, in triumph.
+
+"I do not admit that it is undesirable for Elaine to be intimate with
+her brother," said Ellen, with firmness.
+
+"And pray how is the brother to be separated from the Orton crew, with
+their Sunday tennis-parties, their actors and actresses, their racing
+and their betting?"
+
+"By asking him down here to stay with his sister," said Ellen, quietly.
+
+A pause followed, an awful pause, which to good little Miss Fanny boded
+so darkly, that she hurled herself into the breach with energetic
+good-will.
+
+"Dear me!" she cried, "what a good idea! What a treat for dear Elaine! I
+wonder nobody ever thought of it before!"
+
+"Do you? _I_ do not," said Charlotte, with withering contempt. "I wish,
+Fanny, I really wish you would reflect a little before you speak--you
+are as unpractical as Ellen is!"
+
+Miss Fanny rejoiced in having at least partially diverted the storm to
+her own head--she was well used to it, and would emerge from Charlotte's
+ponderous admonitions as fresh and smiling as a daisy from under a
+roller.
+
+"Do you know the atmosphere in which that boy has been brought up?" went
+on the irate speaker. "Do you know the society to which he is
+accustomed--the language he usually hears--and, very probably, speaks?
+He smokes and drinks, I should say--plays billiards and bets, very
+probably--a charming companion for our Elaine."
+
+"My dear Charlotte, he is not fourteen yet, and he is being educated at
+the most costly private school--he can scarcely drink and gamble yet, I
+really think," remonstrated Ellen.
+
+"Oh, of course, if you choose to invite him, there is no need to say
+more--no need to consult me--the house is not mine, as no doubt you wish
+to remind me," said Charlotte, with virulent injustice.
+
+"Char!" cried Ellen, in much tribulation, "you know, my dear, so well
+that I would not for worlds annoy you--I would do nothing contrary to
+your judgment. You know how I lean upon you in everything. But think,
+dear, if this poor little boy is brought up, as you say, in a house-hold
+of Sabbath breaking, careless people, is it not only right, only
+charitable on our part to ask him here and see if we cannot show him the
+force of a good example? Are we so uncertain of the results of our
+teaching on Elaine that we feel sure he will corrupt her? May we not
+hope that the contrary will be the case--that the care we have lavished
+on our girl may help her to serve her brother?"
+
+"My dear Ellen, I never yet put a rotten apple into a basket of good
+ones with the idea that the sound apples would cure the rotten one,"
+said Miss Charlotte, grimly.
+
+"Oh, surely the case is not the same," cried Miss Ellen, too flurried to
+search for the fallacy in her sister's analogy.
+
+"Put it in this way: In two years--only two years, mind--Elaine will be
+her own mistress, whether or not she inherits the fortune which we think
+is hers by right, she will at least have a handsome allowance. With what
+confidence will you be able to launch her out into the world if you fear
+now that, in her own home, and surrounded by her home influences, she
+will not be able to withstand the corrupting power of a little boy of
+fourteen?"
+
+"There again, that is all rhodomontade," cried Charlotte, "talking on,
+without reflection, which is very surprising in a woman of your sound
+sense. 'Launch her out into the world,' indeed! As if we were going to
+turn Elaine out of the house on her twenty first birthday, and wash our
+hands of her. What is to prevent her staying here always, if she
+pleases?"
+
+"What is to keep her here a moment, if she chooses to go?" asked Ellen.
+
+Charlotte hesitated a little.
+
+"She is not likely to choose to go," she said.
+
+"I am not so sure. There is a great deal--oh, a great deal in Elaine
+which none of us have ever seen," replied her sister. "It sometimes
+frightens me to think how little I know about her."
+
+"I cannot imagine what you mean," said Charlotte, in the blank, dry tone
+she always used when she could not understand what was said.
+
+"You will see some day," said Ellen, which Micaiah-like prophecy
+exasperated her sister the more.
+
+"I think Ellen is right," said Emily, suddenly.
+
+She had taken very little part in the discussion, but it was always
+assumed in the family that Emily would agree with Charlotte. The open
+desertion of this unfailing ally bereft the already much irritated lady
+of the power of speech.
+
+"I mean about having the boy Brabourne to stay here," said Emily, "I
+have thought of the same thing myself more than once--that Elaine ought
+to get acquainted with him, and that the only way to do it would be to
+have him here, as we dislike the Ortons so much. I don't want people to
+think that we grudge him his share of the inheritance, and I think it
+looks like that, if we ignore him so persistently."
+
+This was putting the matter on a ground less high than Ellen's, and one,
+therefore, more easily grasped by the others.
+
+"I quite agree with you," murmured Fanny, and Charlotte raised an
+aroused face from her work.
+
+"I daresay," said Emily, "that the Ortons all laugh at us for nasty
+covetous old maids, and that they think we dislike the boy simply
+because we are jealous, I don't exactly like to have people imagine
+that."
+
+"Naturally not," Charlotte was beginning, in muffled tones, when Fanny
+exclaimed, in consternation,
+
+"Bless us all! Look at the clock! Where can that child be?"
+
+All looked up. The urn had long ceased to sing, the hot cake was cold,
+the fried ham had turned to white lumps of fat, and the finger of the
+clock pointed to seven.
+
+They had been so absorbed in discussing Elaine's future that her present
+whereabouts had entirely been forgotten. Now at last they were
+thoroughly anxious.
+
+Fanny rang the bell to have the tea re-made and the food heated, Emily
+hurried out to see if there were any signs of the wanderers on the road
+across the valley. Charlotte went to Acland, the coachman, to tell him
+to go and look for them.
+
+"You had better harness Charlie, and take the carriage," she said, "I am
+afraid something is wrong--Miss Elaine has sprained her ankle, or
+something; anyway, it is getting so late, they had better drive home. It
+is very strange; I can't understand it at all."
+
+"No, miss, not more can't I, for Jane's mostly a woonderful poonctual
+body for her tea," said Acland, chuckling.
+
+"Never known her late before; something _must_ have happened."
+
+She walked nervously across the stable-yard, and looked down the drive.
+
+Lo! and behold a trim little carriage was just entering, and perched on
+the box beside a strange coachman was Jane herself.
+
+"Jane!" screamed Charlotte, "where's Miss Elaine?"
+
+The carriage came to a standstill, and Elaine, white, and, somehow,
+altered-looking, stood up in it.
+
+"Here I am, Aunt Char," she said; "I am quite safe."
+
+"But what--what--what has happened?" gasped Miss Charlotte, staring at
+Elaine's travelling-companion. "Jane, what has happened?"
+
+For all answer, Jane went off into a perfect volley of hysterics. It was
+scarcely to be wondered at, for her day's experience had far exceeded
+anything which had previously happened to her in all her fifty years of
+life.
+
+Miss Charlotte was greatly alarmed, however, as Jane's usual demeanor
+was staid and unemotional to a degree. She ran for sal volatile, salts,
+for she hardly knew what, and soon her agitated and broken utterances
+drew Fanny and Emily out into the stable-yard.
+
+Elaine did not go into hysterics. She stood up, very white, with shining
+eyes, which seemed bluer and larger than usual, as Lady Mabel introduced
+herself to the ladies, and began a clear and graphic description of what
+had taken place. It seemed too incredible, too horrifying to be true,
+that their little Edge Combe had been the scene of such violence and
+bloodshed.
+
+So overcome were they that they quite forgot even to thank Lady Mabel
+for her kindness in bringing Elaine home, until she said, with a
+charmingly graceful bow, "And now I will not keep you, as I know you
+are longing to be rid of me;" and extended a hand in leave taking.
+
+Then Miss Charlotte suddenly rallied, and said,
+
+"Oh, but we could not on any account allow you to go on without taking
+some refreshment."
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER IX.
+
+    So it would once have been--'tis so no more,
+      I have submitted to a new control;
+    A power is gone which nothing can restore,
+      A deep distress hath humanized my soul.
+
+    WORDSWORTH.
+
+
+Lady Mabel did not require much pressing to induce her to accept the
+eagerly-offered tea and rest. She was tired and wet, hungry and thirsty,
+and in her graceful, Irish way, she made her acceptance seem like the
+conferring of a favor.
+
+It was with some amused and speculative interest that she entered the
+house which had produced such an anachronism of Miss Elaine Brabourne.
+
+The sisters greeted her with some nervousness, but as much cordiality as
+they knew how to show. Hospitality was a virtue they all possessed,
+though their opportunities of displaying it were few and far between. A
+grateful coolness was the first sensation which her ladyship experienced
+on entering the low-ceiled dining-room. A real Devonshire "high tea" was
+spread on the table in tempting profusion. There were chudleighs and
+cream, cakes and honey, eggs from the poultry-yard, and such ham as
+could only be cured in perfection at Edge Willoughby.
+
+Miss Ellen lay on her couch near the window, and, as she stretched her
+thin hand in kindly greeting, her guest was much impressed by the
+refined and intellectual type of her features, and their lovable
+expression. In the blue, shadowy eyes, with their long lashes,
+underlined as they were with the purple marks of suffering, and
+wrinkling in the corners with advancing years, could be clearly traced
+the wreck of the same beauty which was budding in Elaine. Miss Emily too
+was handsome, though a hard expression robbed her face of the charm of
+her sister's. Little Miss Fanny, in her plump and plaintive amiability,
+was also prepossessing in her way, Charlotte only, with massive jaw,
+large features, high forehead, and stony gaze, conveyed a feeling of
+awe.
+
+This forehead was not only high but _polished_. It shone and twinkled in
+the light, as though the skin were too tightly stretched on the bony
+knobs of the skull beneath. The sparse hair was tightly strained away
+from it above--the frowning sandy eyebrows failed to soften it below.
+Lady Mabel guessed at once who was the ruling spirit of this
+unconventual sisterhood.
+
+The furniture of the room was the furniture of a by-gone day, when art
+had not been promulgated, and nobody thought of considering beauty as in
+any sense an important factor of one's happiness. In that sad period the
+fated Misses Willoughbys' youth had been cast. Alas! for the waste of
+good material which must then have been the rule! Girls intended by
+nature to be beautiful and charming, yet who, by dint of never
+comprehending their mission, managed only to be ugly and clumsy. The
+parents of these girls had forgotten the sweet and harmonious names of
+their Anglo-Saxon ancestry. There were no more Ediths, or Ethels, or
+Cicelys, or Dorothys. Even the age of Lady Betty had passed and gone.
+Amelia, Caroline and Charlotte, Maria and Augusta were the order of the
+day.
+
+It agonizes one only to think of the way those unlucky girls violated
+the laws of taste. Their fathers surrounded them with bulky mahogany
+furniture, and green and blue woollen damask. No wonder they dressed
+themselves in harrowing mixture of magenta and pink and mauve. Why
+should they trouble to arrange their hair with any view to preserving
+the _contour_ of their head, when every tea-cup they used was a
+monstrosity, every jug or bowl the violation of a law?
+
+The delicate fancy of Wedgewood and his school was banished and ignored
+with the Chippendale furniture and all the other graces of their
+grandfathers. Everything must be as large as possible, and as unwieldy.
+The questions of beauty and of usefulness were as nothing if only the
+table or chair were sufficiently cumbersome.
+
+Mercifully for us that terrible time of degradation was short. A
+violent reaction soon set in. But the period left its marks behind
+it--left a generation which it had infected and lowered, out of whom it
+had knocked all the romance, from whom it had extracted, in some fatal
+way, the faculty to appreciate the beautiful, and the Misses Willoughby,
+house and all, were a living monument of its hideous influence.
+
+The furniture remained as it had been in the life-time of their father.
+The sisters never wore anything out, so what would have been the object
+of renewing it? Everything looked as it used to look, and was arranged
+as it had been arranged in the days of their wasted girlhood, what could
+Elaine desire further? She would fare as they had done. It seldom
+occurred to them that their mode of life left anything to be desired.
+
+Let it not for a moment be thought that the study of art is here
+advocated as a remedy for all the ills that flesh is heir to, or that
+the laws of beauty are in any way suggested as a substitute for those
+higher laws without which life must be incomplete. It is of course more
+than possible for a woman with no eye at all for color, and an absolute
+disregard for symmetry, to lead the life of a heroine or a saint. And
+yet an innate instinct seems to suggest a close connection between the
+beauty of holiness and all the other million forms in which beauty is
+hourly submitted to our eye; and it seems just within the limits of
+possibility that a link should exist between the decadence of taste and
+the undoubted and unparalleled stagnation of religious life which
+certainly was to be found side by side with it.
+
+If we believe, as it is to be supposed Christians must, that a purpose
+exists in all the loveliness which is scattered about so lavishly
+through the natural world, then surely it follows that we can hardly
+afford to do quite without the help so afforded us, lest, in forgetting
+the loveliness of nature, we lose our aspiration towards the perfection
+of nature's God.
+
+Certainly, in the Willoughby family, the sister who evidently had the
+strongest feeling for beauty was the sister who most strongly suggested
+the Christian ideal of the spiritual life.
+
+The world in which Lady Mabel Wynch-Frere now found herself was a world
+so altogether new to her as to be exceedingly interesting to her
+restless mind.
+
+She did not find the particular grade of society in which her own lot
+was cast conspicuously fascinating. She had ability enough to despise
+the superficial life of a large portion of the fashionable world; and
+her delight was to seek out "fresh fields and pastures new."
+
+Elaine had inspired her with a peculiar interest. She was confident that
+the girl was a unique specimen in our essentially modern world. To watch
+the gradual unfolding of a mind behind the magnificent blankness of
+those enormous eyes, would be a study in emotions entirely after her
+ladyship's own heart. She knew that she already exerted a certain
+influence over this uncouth result of the Misses Willoughbys' attempts
+at education.
+
+As the girl sat at table, not eating a mouthful, her gaze was steadily
+rivetted on the new comer. To every word she uttered, a breathless
+attention was accorded. In vain the aunts remonstrated, and urged their
+usually meek charge to eat. She seemed dazed--in a dream--and sat on as
+if she did not hear them.
+
+"My youngest brother and I are the best of friends," said Lady Mabel to
+Miss Ellen. "We are the most alike of any of the family, and it is
+always a pleasure to us to be together. My little ones have had the
+whooping-cough--I adore my children, and I quite wore out myself with
+nursing them. When they were quite recovered, Claud thought I should
+take a little rest. My husband is just now in command of his regiment,
+and could not come with us, so we planned this little tour. To-day's
+tragic incident has been most unexpected. Stanton is our goal--we
+propose returning to London from thence, as we hear there is not much to
+see beyond. We have come along from Land's End--all the way! It seems
+perhaps a little heartless to say so, but in one way this tragedy will
+be of great interest to my brother. He has so desired to get a glimpse
+of the inner lives of these people. We have felt such complete
+outsiders, he and I--we have seen the country, but we cannot know the
+natives. At each inn, everybody puts on their company manners at once.
+We feel that they are endeavoring to suit their conversation to our
+rank. They will not appear before us naturally and simply; but you see,
+in a calamity like this, they have no time to pick their words. Like the
+doctor, one sees right into their hearts in such a moment; my brother
+will be deeply interested, I feel sure."
+
+"I am sure I hope the Battishills will remember to treat Mr. Cranmer
+with all due respect," said Miss Charlotte, with her manner of blank
+incomprehension of a word that had been said.
+
+It was such a conspicuously inapposite remark, that even Lady Mabel had
+no answer ready, and felt her flow of conversation unaccountably
+impeded.
+
+"They are very respectable people, as a rule," went on Miss Charlotte,
+"but Mrs. Battishill is apt to be short in her temper if flurried. I
+hope she was not rude to you, Lady Mabel?"
+
+"I scarcely saw her," answered her ladyship, perusing the speaker
+earnestly from her intense eyes.
+
+"I can understand that desire to win the hearts of the people," said
+Miss Ellen, quietly; "and I think perhaps our Cornish and Devonshire
+folk are particularly hard for strangers to read; they are very
+reserved, and their feelings are deep, and not easily stirred."
+
+"I am sure they are very ordinary kind of people, _I_ never find any
+difficulty in getting on with them; I don't approve of all this rubbish
+about feeling," said Miss Charlotte, shortly.
+
+Before the visitor had been half-an-hour at table, she knew that "I am
+sure" of Miss Charlotte's by heart, and a deep feeling of pity for those
+who had always to listen to it sprang up within her. There seemed to be
+no point on which the excellent lady was not sure, yet the mere
+statement of an opinion by anyone else appeared to rouse in her breast a
+feeling of covert ire.
+
+"Elaine, my child, come here," said Miss Ellen, softly.
+
+Elaine started, rose, and came round the table. Her aunt took her hands.
+
+"You are eating nothing," she said, "and your hands are very hot. Don't
+you feel well? Are you tired?"
+
+"I am sure," remarked Miss Charlotte, "she has had nothing to tire
+her--she drove all the way home from Poole."
+
+"Yes, but she has been agitated--she has had a shock," said Miss Ellen,
+anxiously; with a strange feeling, as she looked into the girl's dilated
+eyes, that Elaine was gone, and that she was perusing the face of a
+stranger. "Do you feel shaken, dear child?"
+
+"Yes," said Elaine at last, in her unready way.
+
+"She had better have a little wine and water, and lie down," said her
+aunt, sympathetically. "Go and lie on the sofa, Elaine dear, and rest. I
+am so vexed--so grieved for her to see such a terrible thing," she said
+to Lady Mabel. "One would always keep young girls in ignorance even to
+existence of crime."
+
+"Oh, would you?" said her ladyship, in accents of such real surprise
+that each sister looked up electrified at the bare idea of questioning
+such orthodox teaching. "I mean," she explained, with a smile, "that I
+think women ought to be very useful members of society, and I should not
+at all like to feel that the sight of a wounded wayfarer by the roadside
+only inspired one with the desire to faint. I shall wish all my girls to
+attend ambulance classes, so that a broken limb may always find them a
+help, not a hindrance. One cannot shut up girls in bandboxes nowadays,
+and I would not, if I could. Let them be of some use in their
+generation--able to stop a bleeding artery till the doctor comes, as
+well as able to bake a cake or make their clothes. Do you agree with me,
+Miss Willoughby?"
+
+Ellen hardly knew. The doctrine was to her so utterly novel. Charlotte's
+breath was so taken away that she had not a word to offer.
+
+"Every woman is sure to have emergencies in her life, is she not?" asked
+her ladyship, in her earnest winning way. "If not of one kind, then of
+another. If she marries, her children are certain to call forth her
+resources, if she does not marry, her nephews and nieces very probably
+will do so instead. How can a girl take a serious view of life if she
+does not know its realities? Of course there are limits--there are
+things which had better not be discussed before girls, because it would
+do them no good to know them, and there is no need to intrude the
+ghastly and the wicked unnecessarily into their lives; but I certainly
+would train a girl's nerves so that a shock should not utterly prostrate
+her. I would teach her courage and presence of mind."
+
+There was no answer whatever to this speech. Miss Charlotte, having
+never reflected on the subject in her life, had no opinion to offer. She
+had always taken it for granted that a lady should do nothing beyond
+needlework, and perhaps a little gardening. "Accomplishments" were the
+order of her day, in which list were bracketed together, with grim
+unconscious irony, watercolor painting and the manufacture of wax
+flowers!
+
+Her ladyship rose, and crossed the room with her light energetic step to
+where Elaine had seated herself on the sofa. The girl had not lain down,
+but remained with her eyes fixed on the visitor, drinking in every word
+she uttered. A cool hand was laid on her forehead, and a pair of
+wonderful eyes gazed down into hers!
+
+"Oh, yes--her forehead is very hot. I would not give her wine; give her
+some iced milk and soda water and let her go to bed, she is quite
+exhausted," she said. "And now I must bid you good-night, if I do not
+wish to be benighted," she added, rising.
+
+"Oh, but indeed we cannot let you go on to-night," said Miss Ellen
+eagerly. "You must be good enough to stay with us here. We have many
+more rooms than we can occupy, and we shall be glad to be of use----"
+
+There was some polite demur, but it was overruled; all the sisters
+seconded Ellen's invitation, and finally Lady Mabel gratefully accepted
+it, and sent her coachman up to Poole, to apprise her brother of her
+whereabouts, and to bring back the latest news of the invalid.
+
+Meanwhile the night had come. With all its stars it hung quietly over
+the fairy valley in solemn and moonless splendor. Elaine, sent to bed,
+had crept out from between the sheets, and knelt, crouched down by her
+window, awaiting the return of the messenger from Poole.
+
+So irregular a proceeding was a complete novelty in her career; but oh!
+the strange, new, trembling charm of having such a day's experiences to
+look back upon!
+
+It had all happened so rapidly, in such a few hours. That afternoon had
+begun, dull and eventless; now, how different was everything. In an
+undefined, vague way she felt that things could never more be quite as
+they had been. A boundary line had been passed. The world was different,
+and for the first time in her nineteen years she was engaged in the
+perilous delight of contemplating her own identity.
+
+Up to the dark purple vault of heaven were sighed that night vague
+aspirations from a heart which had never aspired before; a prayer went
+with them, which, brief and shapeless as it was, was nevertheless the
+first real prayer of Elaine Brabourne's heart:
+
+"Oh, if only he may not die!"
+
+After all, the Misses Willoughby were but human, and had all the
+feelings of the English provincial middle-classes.
+
+Their reverence for the aristocracy had something well-nigh touching in
+its simple faith. Determined as they were against anything
+unconventional, they yet almost dared to think that Lady Mabel
+Wynch-Frere had a right to hold opinions--a right conferred on her by
+that mystic handle to her name, which sanctioned an eccentricity that
+would have been unpardonable in any woman less strongly backed up--any
+woman supported by a social position less unquestionable.
+
+Moreover, they could not but be sensible that the sojourn of this star
+of fashion at Edge Willoughby would set all the neighborhood talking,
+and that to them would be assigned, for a time at least, all the local
+importance they could possibly desire. Her ladyship's heresies were more
+than condoned, in consideration of her ladyship's consequence.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER X.
+
+                                ... For me,
+    Perhaps I am not worthy, as you say,
+    Of work like this; perhaps a woman's soul
+    Aspires, and not creates; yet we aspire...
+
+                                        ... I,
+    Who love my art, would never wish it lower
+    To suit my stature. I may love my art,
+    You'll grant that even a woman may love art,
+    Seeing that to waste true love on anything
+    Is womanly, past question.
+
+    E. B. BROWNING.
+
+
+The heat of the blazing day was just beginning to be tempered with light
+puffs of sea-scented air as the sun declined, when the Honorable Claud
+Cranmer stepped upon the platform at Stanton, and asked the
+station-master if the London train were due.
+
+"Yes, it was--just signalled from Coryton;" and Claud, after the manner
+of his race, put his hands behind him, wrinkled up his eyelids on
+account of the sun, and gazed away along the flat marshy valley of the
+Ashe river, to catch the first glimpse of the approaching train.
+
+On the other side of the sandy river mouth lay the little old village of
+Ashemouth, picturesquely nestling at the foot of the tall cliff. It was
+a pretty view, but not to be compared at all with the beauty of Edge
+Combe.
+
+"I do hope the young lady will arrive," soliloquised the young man. "The
+poor fellow ought to have some one with him who knows him. I only wish I
+could hit upon some clue to the mystery; it's the most baffling thing!"
+
+He sighed, and then he yawned vigorously, for he had been up the greater
+part of the night, and he was a person whom it did not suit to have his
+rest disturbed. The village nurse had been quite inadequate to the task
+of holding poor Allonby in his bed, and so had aroused "the gentleman"
+at about two, since when he had only had an hour's nap. The day had been
+most distressing. Lady Mabel had sent Joseph, the coachman, into Stanton
+for ice, which he had obtained with difficulty, but it seemed as if
+nothing would abate the fierce heat in that sick-chamber, they longed
+for cool wind and cloudy skies to obscure the brilliant weather in which
+the haymakers were so rejoicing. As the fever grew higher, Dr. Forbes'
+face grew graver, and it was with a sickening dislike to being the
+bearer of such tidings that Claud set out for the station to meet the
+patient's sister, and drive her up to the farm.
+
+The train appeared at last, curving its dark bulk along the gleaming
+metals with the intense deliberation which marks the pace of all trains
+on branch lines of the South-Western.
+
+"No need to hurry oneself this hot weather," the engine appeared to be
+saying, comfortably, while Claud was feverishly thinking how much hung
+on every moment. He had formed no pre-conceived idea as to what Miss
+Allonby's exterior would be like. His eyes dwelt anxiously on the
+somewhat numerous female figures which emerged from the carriage doors.
+Most of them were mammas and nurses, with two or three small children in
+striped cotton petticoats, whose cheeks looked sadly in want of the
+fresh salt air of Stanton.
+
+At last he became aware of a girl, who he guessed might be the one he
+sought for, merely because he could not see anyone else who could
+possibly answer to that description.
+
+This girl must have alighted from the train with great celerity, for her
+portmanteau had already been produced from the van and laid beside her.
+She was rather tall and particularly slight--somewhat thin, in fact. She
+wore a dust-colored tweed suit very plainly made, and a helmet-shaped
+cap of the same cloth. Her face was pale, with an emphasis in the
+outline of the chin which faintly recalled her handsomer brother. Her
+eyes were keen, and her expression what Americans call intense.
+
+She was walking towards Mr. Cranmer, but her gaze was fixed on a porter
+who stood just behind him.
+
+"Is there a cart or anything in waiting to take me to Poole Farm?" she
+asked, with the thin clearness of voice and purity of accent belonging
+to London girls. Claud stepped forward, raising his cap.
+
+"I'm afraid I can't lay claim to being a _cart_," he said, modestly,
+"but perhaps you would kindly include me in your definition of a
+_thing_. I am in waiting to take you to Poole Farm."
+
+An amused look broke over the girl's face, a look not of surprise but of
+arrested interest; in a moment it changed, a shadow fell on the eyes as
+if a cloud swept by, she made a step forward and spoke breathlessly.
+
+"You come from Poole Farm? What news do you bring me of my brother?"
+
+Claud felt a sudden movement of most unnecessary emotion; there was such
+a feverish, pathetic force in the question, and in the expression of the
+mouth which asked it, that he was conscious of an audible falter in his
+voice, as he replied, as hopefully as he could:
+
+"Mr. Allonby has had a very bad accident, it is folly not to tell you
+that at once. He is very ill, but the doctor says he has a fine
+constitution, and hopes that everything--that all--in short, that he'll
+pull through all right. You will want to reach him as quickly as
+possible. Will you come this way, please?"
+
+He hurriedly took her travelling-bag from her, not looking at her face,
+lest he should see tears; and hastened out of the station to where
+Joseph stood with the trap.
+
+By the servant's side stood an unclassified looking man of quiet
+appearance, and plain, unostentatious dress. As Mr. Cranmer approached
+he stepped forward and touched his hat.
+
+"Mr. Dickens, sir, from Scotland Yard," he said, in a low voice.
+
+"Oh, ah! Yes, of course. You came down by this train. Just get on the
+box, will you, and we will take you straight to the scene of the
+tragedy, as I suppose all the newspapers will have it to-morrow," and
+Claud motioned Joseph to his seat with a hurried injunction "to look
+sharp." When he turned again to Miss Allonby, she was quite quiet and
+composed. Nobody could have guessed that she had received any news that
+might shock her. "Wasting my pity, after all, it seems," thought Claud,
+as he helped her into the carriage. "I hope you will excuse my driving
+up with you," he said, as he took his place beside her. "It's a good
+long walk, and I'm anxious to be back as fast as possible."
+
+"I can only thank you most sincerely for taking so much trouble on our
+account," she answered, at once, "and I should be so grateful if you
+would tell me something of what has happened. I am quite in the dark,
+and--the suspense is oppressive."
+
+"I shall be only too glad to help you in any way," he said, with one of
+his deft little bows, which always conveyed an impression of finished
+courtesy. "You are Miss Allonby, I presume?"
+
+"Yes--and you?"
+
+"My name's Cranmer, and I am a total stranger to your brother, whom I
+have never seen but in a state of perfect unconsciousness."
+
+He proceeded to relate to her all the incidents of the eventful
+yesterday.
+
+She listened with an interest which was visible but controlled, and with
+perfect self-possession. Her eyes rested on his face all the while he
+was speaking--not with any disagreeable persistency, but with a simple
+frank desire to comprehend everything--not the mere words alone, but any
+such shade of meaning as looks and expression can give.
+
+With his habit of close observation, Claud studied her as he spoke, and
+by the end of his narration had catalogued her features and attributes
+with the accuracy which was an essential part of him. There are men to
+whom girls are in some sense a mystery, who take in dreamy and
+comprehensive ideas of them, surrounded by a little idealization or
+fancy of their own, these could never tell you what a woman wore, how
+her dress was cut, not even the arrangement of her front hair--that all
+important detail!--nor the color of her eyes or size of her hands. It is
+to be conjectured that a certain loss of illusion might result to these
+men when, on being married, they find themselves unavoidably in close
+proximity to one of these heretofore mistily contemplated divinities,
+and by slow degrees make the inevitable discovery that their "phantom of
+delight" eats, drinks, sleeps, brushes her hair, and dresses and
+undresses in as mundane a fashion as their own.
+
+Claud Cranmer, though doubtless he lost much delight by never
+surrounding womanhood with a halo of unreality, yet would certainly be
+spared any such lowering of a preconceived ideal, since he took stock in
+a detailed and matter-of-fact way of every woman he met, and by the time
+Miss Allonby and he reached Poole Farm could have handed in a report as
+cool and unpoetically worded as Olivia's description of herself--"_Item_
+two lips, indifferent red--_item_ two grey eyes with lids to them."
+
+But his companion's eyes were not grey, they were hazel and were the
+only feature of her face meriting to be called handsome. As before
+stated, she was pale, and had the air of being overworked--though this
+might be partially the result of a long and hurried journey. Her skin
+was fair and pure, with an appearance of delicacy, by which term is here
+meant refinement, not ill health. Her impassive critic observed that her
+ears were small and well-set, that the shape of her head was good, her
+teeth white and even, and her eyelashes long, she had no claims at all
+to be considered beautiful, or even what is called a pretty girl--which
+being stated, the reader will doubtless rush at once to the conclusion
+that she was plain, which was far from the case. It was just such a face
+as scarcely two people would be agreed upon. One might find it
+interesting, another complain that it was hatchetty, the former would
+admire the clean-cut way of the features, the latter gloomily prophecy
+nut-crackers for old age, and lament over angular shoulders and sharp
+elbows.
+
+It was not a face which attracted Claud. He was an admirer of beauty,
+and preferred it with a certain admixture of consciousness, he liked a
+woman's eyes to meet his with a full knowledge of the fact that they
+were of opposite sexes. He had a weakness for pretty figures, cased in
+dresses which were a miracle of cut; though of course the wearer must be
+more than an ornamental clothes-peg: he was too intelligent to admire a
+nonentity.
+
+Miss Allonby's dress was not badly cut, neither was it put on without
+some idea of the way clothes should be worn; but it was shabby, and had
+evidently never been costly. Her gloves, too, fitted her, and were the
+right sort of glove, but they were old and much soiled. Her shoes gave
+evidence that her foot was not too large for her height, and her hands,
+as Claud mentally noted, _were size six and a quarter_. Her face wore an
+expression which can only be described as preoccupied. Of course it was
+natural that on this particular day she should be thinking only of her
+brother; but her new acquaintance had penetration enough to know that
+there was more than a temporary anxiety in her eyes. Had he met her on
+any other day, under any other circumstances, it would have been the
+same; he was merely a passing event--something which was in no sense
+part of the life she was leading. She seemed to convey in some
+indescribable fashion the fact that he was not of the slightest
+importance to her, and the idea inspired a wholly unreasonable sensation
+of irritation.
+
+An unmarried doctor once somewhat coarsely engaged to point out all the
+portraits of unmarried women in a photographic album, on the theory that
+the countenance of all those who are single wears an expression of
+unsatisfied longing. Wyn Allonby's face would hardly have come under
+this heading. Hers was not a happy nor a perfectly contented look, but
+neither could it be said in any sense to express longing. It was the
+look of one who has much serious work to do, the doing of which involves
+anxiety, but also brings interest and pleasure--a brave, thoughtful,
+preoccupied look, more suggestive of a middle-aged man of science than a
+young girl.
+
+Claud found something indirectly unflattering in such an expression; he
+liked to have the female mind entirely at his disposal, _pro tem_. Her
+age, too, puzzled him; it was necessarily provoking to such an adept to
+find himself unable to decide this point within five years. She might be
+twenty-one, and looking older, or she might be twenty-five, and looking
+younger, or she might claim any one of the three intermediate dates.
+
+When he had told her all that there was to tell, he relapsed into silent
+speculation on these important points, now inclining to think that a
+life of hardship had made her prematurely self-possessed, now that her
+peculiarly unconscious temperament gave an air of fictitious youth. He
+would have liked to ask her some questions, or, rather, deftly to
+extract from her a few details as to who she was and what were her
+circumstances. But Miss Allonby gave him no opening. She was silent
+without being shy, which is certainly undue presumption in a woman.
+
+Her first words seemed to be extorted from her almost by force.
+
+They had left Stanton far behind. The distance from thence to Edge Combe
+was said to be about five miles; but these miles were not horizontal,
+but perpendicular, which somehow tended to increase their length
+considerably. They had climbed gradually but continuously for some time
+between tall hedges, up a lane remarkable only for its monotony; thence
+they had emerged, not without gratitude, into the Philmouth Road. This
+was a wide highway, somewhat indefinite as to its edges, which were
+fringed irregularly with hart's-tongue and other ferns, or clumped with
+low brambles bearing abundant promise of a future blackberry harvest. On
+either side a row of ragged and onesided pine-trees, stooping as if
+perpetually cringing before the stinging blows of the wild sou'-westers,
+which had so tortured them from their youth up that they habitually
+leaned one way, like children whose minds are warped from their natural
+bent by undue influence in one direction.
+
+Behind these trees the sky was beginning to flame with sunset, making
+their uncouth forms stand out weirdly dark in the still air.
+
+For a short way they drove quietly along this road, then turned down a
+precipitous lane to the left, and wound along till a white gate was
+reached. Mr. Dickens from Scotland Yard jumped down and opened the gate;
+and as the carriage went slowly through, and turned a corner, the effect
+was like a transformation scene, and a cry of wondering admiration broke
+from the silent girl.
+
+They stood on the very edge and summit of a descent so steep as to be
+almost a precipice. Below them lay the fairy valley, half-hidden in a
+pearly mist, with a vivid stretch of deep-blue sea as its horizon. Well
+in evidence lay Poole Farm, directly beneath them, a sluggish wreath of
+smoke curling lazily up from its great chimney. The road curved to and
+fro down the abrupt hillside like a white folded ribbon, here visible,
+there lost behind a belt of ash trees.
+
+"How beautiful," said Wynifred,--"how beautiful it is!"
+
+The rest of evening was over it all--over the tiny, ancient grey church
+far, far away towards the valley's mouth; over the peaceable red cows
+which lay meditatively here and there among the grass; over the
+sun-burnt group of laborers, who, their day's mowing done, were slowly
+making their way down to their hidden cottages, with fearless eyes of
+Devon blue turned on the strangers and their carriage.
+
+"What splendid terra-cotta-colored people!" said Miss Allonby, following
+them with her appreciative gaze. Mr. Cranmer was unable to help
+laughing. "They are a delicate shade of the red-brown of the cliffs,"
+said the girl, dreamily. "How full of color everything is!"
+
+Her companion mentally echoed the remark: it was the concise expression
+of a thought which in him had been only vague. She was right,--it was
+the color, the strange glow of grass, and cliffs, and sea, which so
+impressed eyes accustomed only to the "pale, unripened beauties of the
+north."
+
+"That is Poole Farm, right beneath us," he said. "It is not so near as
+it looks."
+
+"Oh, if I were only there!" she burst out; and then was suddenly still,
+as if ashamed of her involuntary cry.
+
+"Get on as fast you can, Joseph," said Mr. Cranmer, and felt himself
+unaccountably obliged to sit so as not to see the pale face beside him,
+nor to pity the evident force which she found it necessary to employ to
+avoid a complete break-down.
+
+When at last they stopped at the farm-yard gate, and he had helped her
+out, and seen her tall, slight figure disappear swiftly within the
+house, he experienced a relaxation of mental tension which was, he told
+himself, greatly out of proportion to the occasion; and, strolling into
+the big kitchen, was sensible of a quite absurd throb of relief when he
+heard that Dr. Forbes hoped his patient was just a little better.
+
+"It is strange how people vary," he reflected. "I have met two girls,
+one to-day, one yesterday, neither of whom is in the smallest degree
+like any girl I ever saw before."
+
+By which it will be inferred that his acquaintance with modern
+developments of girlhood had been limited pretty much to one particular
+class of society. The girl art-student he had never met in any of her
+varieties; and this opportunity of contemplating a new class, of
+perusing a fresh chapter in his favorite branch of study, was by no
+means without its charm.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XI.
+
+    The clouds that gather round the setting sun
+    Do take a sober coloring from an eye
+    That hath kept watch o'er man's mortality;
+    Another race hath been, and other palms are won.
+    Thanks to the human heart by which we live,
+    Thanks to its tenderness, its joys and fears,
+    To me the meanest flower that blows can give
+    Thoughts that do often lie too deep for tears.
+
+    WORDSWORTH.
+
+
+The mellow coloring of the third evening which Claud Cranmer had spent
+at Poole Farm was inundating the valley with its warm floods of light.
+
+He was leaning meditatively against the stile which led from the farm
+garden to the Waste, and his eyes were fixed on the stretch of summer
+sea which, like a crystal gate, barred the entrance to the Combe. His
+thoughts were busy with a two-fold anxiety--partly for the man who lay
+fighting for life in the farmhouse behind him, partly concerning the
+mystery which attended his fate.
+
+Mr. Dickens of Scotland Yard had so far succeeded in discovering merely
+what everybody knew before, and was in a state of complete bewilderment
+which, he begged them to believe, was a most unusual circumstance in his
+professional career. The mystery of the pudding-basin and the blue
+dishcloth was as amazing and as incomprehensible to him as it was to
+William Clapp himself and his scared "missus."
+
+The good people of the district were sensible of a speedy dwindling of
+courage and hope, when it became evident that the London detective could
+see no farther through a brick wall than they could.
+
+They did long to have the stigma lifted from their district by the
+discovery that the murderer had been a stranger, an outlander, anybody
+but a native of Edge Combe; but, if Mr. Dickens had an opinion at all in
+the matter, it was that he was inclined to believe the crime perpetrated
+by some one who knew where to find his victim, and had probably walked
+out of the village purposely to give him his quietus. But why? What
+possible animus could any dweller in the valley have against the
+inoffensive young artist? The detective was privately certain that the
+entire motive for this affair must be looked for under the surface.
+
+"It's probable," said he to Mr. Cranmer, "that the victim himself is the
+only person likely to tell us anything about it. If he has enemies, it
+is to be supposed that he knew it. Mrs. Clapp has told us that he burnt
+a letter he received. That letter may have contained a warning which he
+thought fit to disregard. I have tried to make Mrs. Clapp recall any
+particulars she may have noticed as to its appearance, handwriting, or
+post-mark. But she seems to have noticed nothing; these rustics are very
+unobservant. I should like to ask Miss Allonby a few questions. She
+might be able to give us a clue."
+
+But Miss Allonby, being summoned, could not help them in the least.
+
+She came down from her brother's sick-room, with a tranquil composed
+manner, which encouraged Mr. Dickens to hope great things of her. She
+seated herself in one of the big kitchen chairs, and looked straight at
+him.
+
+"You want to ask me something?" said she.
+
+Claud spoke to her.
+
+"Yes," he said, "we want to ask you certain personal questions which
+would be very rude if we had not a strong warrant for them. I am sure
+you are as anxious as we are that the mystery of your brother's accident
+should be cleared up?"
+
+"Oh, yes," said Wyn.
+
+"Well, Mr. Dickens thinks that the motive we have to search for was a
+good deal deeper than mere robbery; he wants to know if Mr. Allonby had
+enemies. Do you know of anyone who wished him ill?"
+
+"No, certainly I don't," she replied at once. "Osmond is a most
+good-natured fellow, he never quarrels with a creature--he is too lazy
+to quarrel, I think. I don't know of a single enemy we have."
+
+"Will you tell me your brother's motive in coming down here to Edge
+Combe?"
+
+"Certainly. He came here to sketch. He had sold his landscapes at the
+Institute very well, and a friend of the gentleman who bought them
+wanted two in the same style. Osmond thought a change to the country
+would do him good. An artist friend of ours recommended Edge Combe, and
+so he came here."
+
+"Do you know the friend who recommended Edge Combe?"
+
+A slight hint of extra color rose in the girl's cheeks.
+
+"Yes, I know him; he is a Mr. Haldane, a student in the Academy
+Schools."
+
+"On good terms with your brother?"
+
+"Yes, of course; but he knows my sister Jacqueline better than he knows
+Osmond."
+
+"Would he be likely to write to Mr. Allonby?"
+
+"No, I hardly think so. He never has, that I know of. He sent the
+address of the inn on a postcard. Mrs. Clapp would know him--he stayed
+here several weeks last year."
+
+The detective pondered.
+
+"You are sure there was no quarrel--no jealousy--nothing that
+could----"
+
+"What, between my brother and Mr. Haldane? The idea is quite absurd.
+They are only very slightly acquainted, and Osmond is at least six years
+older than he is!"
+
+"Will you tell me, on your honor, whether you yourself can account in
+any way at all for what has occurred? Had you any reason whatever to
+think it likely such a thing might happen? Or were you absolutely and
+utterly horrified and surprised by such news?"
+
+"I was horrified and surprised beyond measure; so were my sisters. We
+are as much in the dark about the matter as you can possibly be. I can
+offer no guess or conjecture on the subject; it is quite inexplicable to
+me."
+
+"And you would think it quite folly to connect it in any way with Mr.
+Haldane?"
+
+She laughed rather contemptuously.
+
+"I'm afraid, even if he did cherish a secret grudge, Mr. Haldane is not
+rich enough to employ paid agents to do his murders for him; and, as he
+was at work in the R.A. schools when the crime was committed, it does
+seem to me unlikely, to say the least of it, that he had anything to do
+with the matter. What can make you think he had?"
+
+"Merely," answered the detective, somewhat confused, "that in these
+cases sometimes everything hangs on what seems such a trifling bit of
+evidence; and as you said this gentleman recommended your brother to
+come to this particular place----"
+
+"You thought he had an _arriere pensee_. I am afraid you are quite
+wrong. I cannot see how Mr. Haldane could possibly serve any ends of his
+own by compassing my brother's destruction," she said, evidently with
+ironical gravity. "Besides, I hardly think that either he or his agent
+would have troubled to carry away an empty basin as a momento of the
+deed."
+
+"The people all declare that no stranger passed through the village on
+that day," put in Claud.
+
+"No; and none of the inhabitants walked out towards the farm in the
+afternoon except Miss Brabourne and her maid. I have ascertained that
+past a doubt. I don't see any daylight nowhere," said poor Mr. Dickens,
+becoming ungrammatical in his despair.
+
+Claud could not but echo the remark. He walked over to Edge Willoughby
+in the afternoon with the same dreary bulletin. His sister was still
+there; she was anxious not to leave till the crisis was over, and her
+hostesses were proud to keep her. Elaine he scarcely saw; she was
+practising. He declined to stay to tea, as the good ladies urgently
+invited him. With a mind less absorbed he might have found them and
+their niece most excellent entertainment for a few idle hours; but, as
+it was, he was only anxious to get back to the farm, while every hour
+might bring the final change and crisis in the young artist's condition.
+
+Was everything to remain so shrouded in mystery? he wondered. Was there
+to be no further light shed on the details of so mysterious a case?
+Would Allonby die and go down in silence to the grave, unable to name
+his murderer, or to give any hint as to the motive of so vile an
+assault? Over all these things did he ponder as he leaned against the
+stile, and saw with unseeing eyes the loveliness of the dying day change
+and deepen over the misty hollow of the valley.
+
+He looked at his watch. It was past eight o'clock, and the quiet of dusk
+was settling over everything. He wondered what was passing in the
+sick-room--he longed to be there, but did not like to go, lest he might
+disturb the privacy of a brother and sister's last moments. But he did
+wish he could persuade the pale Wynifred to take some rest--she had
+never closed her eyes during the twenty-four hours she had been at
+Poole.
+
+As these thoughts travelled through his mind, he heard a slight sound,
+and, raising his eyes, saw the subject of his meditations emerge from
+the open farmhouse door. She did not see him, and moved slowly forward,
+with her eyes fixed on the western sky. Down the little path she passed,
+and then stepped upon the grass of the little lawn, and, with a long
+sigh almost like a sob, sat down upon the turf, and buried her face in
+her hands.
+
+"Was it all over?" Claud wondered, as he stood hesitatingly by the
+stile. "Should he go to her, or should he leave her to the privacy of
+her grief?"
+
+Unable to decide, he waited a few moments, and presently saw her raise
+her head again, and look around her like one who took in for the first
+time the fact of her surroundings.
+
+Stretching her hand, she gathered some white pinks from the garden
+border and inhaled their spicy fragrance; and Claud, slowly approaching,
+diffidently crossed the grass to where she sat.
+
+"Good evening," he said, raising his hat politely.
+
+"Good evening," she said, "and good news at last. I know you will be
+glad to hear. He is sleeping beautifully. Nurse and Dr. Forbes sent me
+away to get some rest, and I came out here into this air--this reviving
+air."
+
+"You don't know how glad I am," said Claud, from the bottom of his
+heart. "I was so anxious; it seemed as if that terrible fever must wear
+him out. But he'll do well now. Let me wish you joy."
+
+"Thank you," she said, with a smile, and her eyes fixed far away on the
+distance. "I feel like thanking everyone to-night--my whole heart is
+made up of thanksgiving. You don't know what Osmond is to us girls. We
+are orphans."
+
+"Ah! indeed!" said Claud, giving a sympathetic intonation to the
+commonplace words.
+
+"Yes; the loss of him would have been----"
+
+She stopped short, and, after a pause, began to talk fast, as though the
+relaxed strain of her feelings made it imperative that she should pour
+out her heart to somebody.
+
+"I had been sitting all the afternoon with my heart full of such
+ingratitude," she said. "I felt as if all the beauty was gone out of the
+world, and all the heart out of life. You know
+
+    'The clouds that gather round the setting sun
+    Do take a sober coloring from an eye
+    That hath kept watch o'er man's mortality.'
+
+I could not help thinking of that, and of how true it was, as I watched
+the little red bits of cloud swimming in the blue, and it kept ringing
+in my head till I thought I must say it out loud--
+
+    'Another race has been, and other palms are won.'
+
+I do not want him, my brother, to win his palm yet; I wanted to look at
+sunsets with him again, and hear him enjoy this beauty as he can enjoy
+it--so thoroughly. Oh, we are very selfish in wanting to keep people we
+love on earth, when they might win their palms! But it is only human
+nature after all, you know; and I do think Osmond's life is a happy one,
+though it is so full of care."
+
+"I am sure it must be," said Claud, quietly, as he sat down on the grass
+beside her. "Life is a pleasant thing to every man who is young and has
+good health, more especially if he has love to brighten his lot. I think
+your brother a fortunate man."
+
+"You would think him a very brave one, if you knew him better."
+
+"Fortitude runs in the family, apparently."
+
+She looked at him a moment, but made no reply to his compliment; her manner seemed to convey the idea that she was rather annoyed.
+
+"I am afraid I have offended you," he said.
+
+"Oh, no," she answered, laughing a little; "only what you said gave me
+a queer feeling of helplessness. It was not true; I have no fortitude;
+but, just because you said it of me, it seemed to make it impossible
+for me to set you right, because you would have thought my denial an
+empty protestation, designed to make you say it again, with more
+decision; so I thought it better to let it drop."
+
+"Do you think we are the best judges of our own courage, or, in short,
+of our own capabilities any way?" asked Mr. Cranmer, following her
+example by gathering a few pinks and putting them in his button-hole.
+
+"I don't know; I think we ought to be--what do you think about it?"
+asked she, evidently with a genuine interest in the subject itself, and
+none to spare for Claud Cranmer.
+
+It was strange how this manner of hers non-plussed him. He was
+accustomed enough to hear girls discuss abstract topics, inward
+feelings, and the reciprocity of emotion--who in these days is not? But
+in his experience the process was always intended to serve as a delicate
+vehicle for flirtation, and however much the two people so occupied
+might generalise verbally, they always mentally referred to the secret
+feelings of their own two selves, and nobody else.
+
+He felt that Miss Allonby expected him to give a well thought out and
+adequate answer to her question, while he had been merely trifling with
+the subject, and had absolutely no intention of entering upon a serious
+discussion.
+
+He hesitated, therefore, in his reply, and at last calmly remarked that
+he believed he knew his faults, intimately--he saw so much of them; but
+that his acquaintance with his virtues was so slight that he scarcely
+knew them by sight much less by heart.
+
+She laughed, a clear fresh laugh of appreciation; but objected that this
+was not a fair answer.
+
+"But, perhaps," said she, "you are one of those who don't think it right
+to analyse their own emotions?"
+
+He shrugged his shoulders.
+
+"I don't know about thinking it right," he said. "Of course I have to do
+it, or pretend to do it, if I don't wish to be voted a fool by everyone
+I meet. And that reminds me, I have discovered, here in these wilds, a
+young lady who never even heard of the current topics of the day--who,
+far from dissecting the sentiments of her inmost being, does not even
+know herself the possessor of such a morbid luxury as an inmost being.
+You ought to see her; she is the most curious sample of modern young
+lady-hood it was ever my lot to meet. She has the mind and manners of
+an intelligent girl of ten; my sister tells me she is nineteen, but I
+really can scarcely believe it. She lives with some maiden aunts who
+have brought her to this pass between them. My sister is enthusiastic
+about her, and most anxious to have the pleasing task of teaching this
+backward young idea how to shoot. If she is as free from the follies as
+she is from the graces of girlhood, she is certainly unique."
+
+"You make me very anxious to see her. She must be like one of Walter
+Besant's heroines--Phyllis, in the "Golden Butterfly," or one of those.
+I have often wondered if such a girl existed. Is she charming?"
+
+"N--no. I don't think I could truthfully say I thought so; and yet she
+has all the makings of a beauty in her; but you can't attempt
+conversation--she wouldn't understand a word you said. She has seen
+nothing, heard nothing, read nothing. That last remark is absolutely,
+not relatively true; she really has read nothing. It gives, one an
+oppressive sense of responsibility; one has to pick one's words, for
+fear of being the first to suggest evil to such a primeval mind."
+
+Wyn laughed softly, and took a deliberate look at him as he lay on the
+turf. He had put up his arms over his head, and looked very contented
+and a good deal amused. He enjoyed chattering to a girl who had some
+sense, and was for the moment almost prepared to pardon the paleness and
+thinness, and even the unconsciousness of his companion, which latter
+characteristic affected him far the most seriously of the three.
+
+"Most undeveloped heroines turn out very charming when some one takes
+them in hand, and sophisticates them," said the girl. "I wonder if your
+discovery would do the same?"
+
+"I can't say. She has a very fine complexion," said Claud,
+inconsequently. "Her skin is rather the color of that pinky reach of sky
+yonder. What a night it is! It feels like Gray's elegy to me. I wonder
+if you know what I mean?"
+
+"Yes, I know. What an amount of quotations come swarming to one's mind
+on such a night! It is a consolation, I think, in the midst of one's own
+utter inadequacy to express one's feelings, to feel that some one else
+has done it for you so beautifully as Gray."
+
+A step behind them on the gravel, and, turning quickly, Wyn beheld Dr.
+Forbes.
+
+"Get up, young woman, get up this minute. I sent you to rest, not to
+come and amuse this young sprig of nobility with your conversation. Very
+nice for him, I've no manner of doubt; but, nice or not, you've got to
+bid him good-night and go to bed."
+
+Wyn rose at once, but attempted to plead.
+
+"I have been resting, doctor, indeed--drinking in this lovely air. I had
+to go out of doors--one must always go out of doors when one is feeling
+strongly, I think--roofs are so in the way. I wanted to look right up as
+far as that one star, and to send my heart up as far as my eyes could
+reach!"
+
+The doctor looked down at the face raised to him--pale with watching,
+but alive with happiness.
+
+"I'm of the opinion, Miss Allonby," said he, with a mouth sterner than
+his eyes, "that if the Honorable Claud Cranmer finds you so interesting
+when you're worn out with waking and fasting, you'll be simply
+irresistible after a good night's rest."
+
+The girl had vanished almost before this dreadful remark was concluded.
+The doctor chuckled as he watched her flight.
+
+"There's girls and girls," he remarked, sententiously; "some take to
+their heels when you joke them about the men. Some don't. I thought
+she'd go."
+
+"I had rather," said Claud, nettled, "that you indulged your humor at
+anyone's expense but mine."
+
+"Oh, that'll never hurt you," said the doctor, placidly, rubbing his
+eye-glasses with his red silk handkerchief, "nor her either. Young
+people get so fine-drawn and finikin now-a-days."
+
+Claud smiled.
+
+"I perceive, doctor, that you do not hold with the modern ideas
+concerning introspection. You are a refreshing exception. I regret that
+I was born a generation too late to adopt your habits of thought."
+
+"Habits of thought! Why, t'would trouble you mighty little to adopt all
+I've got," was the genial reply. "I've avoided all habits of thought all
+my life, and that's what makes me so useful a man. I just think what I
+think without referring to any book to tell me which way to begin.
+Hoot! I'd never think on tram-lines, as you do: I go clean across
+country, that's my way, and I'm bound to get to the end long before you,
+in your coach-and-four.
+
+"Yes," conceded Claud, "I expect you would; that is, if you didn't come
+a cropper on the way."
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XII.
+
+    A low cottage in a sunny bay
+    Where the salt sea innocuously breaks,
+    And the sea-breeze as innocently breathes
+    On Devon's leafy shores.
+
+    WORDSWORTH.
+
+
+"May I come in, Miss Willoughby? My brother is here, and has brought
+good news from Poole."
+
+"Come in, pray, Lady Mabel; and Mr. Cranmer too," said Ellen, raising
+herself eagerly on her couch. "Tell me all about this good news. Mr.
+Allonby will live?"
+
+"He will live, and is doing finely," said Claud, shaking hands with the
+invalid. "He has recognised his sister this morning, and spoken several
+coherent sentences. Dr. Forbes is much elated, and I must say I am
+greatly relieved; it would have been very tragic had he not recovered."
+
+"I am deeply thankful," said Miss Ellen, with a sympathetic moisture in
+her eyes. "How delighted his sister must be!"
+
+"She is. I fancy, from what I can gather, that she and her sisters are
+quite dependent on their brother; she told me they were orphans."
+
+"Poor children!" said Lady Mabel, in her impulsive way. "It would have
+been terrible had it ended fatally. I feel quite a weight lifted from my
+mind. Miss Willoughby, I must express to you my hearty thanks for having
+been so long troubled with me. I have sent Joseph into Stanton with a
+telegram telling Edward to come and fetch me, as Claud does not seem
+inclined to come back to London just yet awhile."
+
+"I want to try to get a clue to this affair before I go," said Claud,
+"for it has piqued my curiosity most amazingly. The fellow from Scotland
+Yard has quite made up his mind that we shall get the whole truth from
+Mr. Allonby's own lips; I'm inclined to think he must be right; but, of
+course, one can't torment the poor fellow about it while he is so weak."
+
+"How very reserved Englishmen are!" burst out Lady Mabel. "All of them
+are alike! Claud tells me that this Miss Allonby knows absolutely
+nothing of her brother's affairs, though, from what she said, they seem
+to be on the most confidential terms. She had never heard that he had an
+enemy. Claud, my dear boy, draw a moral from this sad story. Write the
+names and addresses of your secret foes upon a slip of paper, seal it in
+an envelope, and give it to me, not to be opened till you are discovered
+mysteriously murdered in an unfrequented spot."
+
+"A good idea, that, Mab," responded Claud, cheerfully, "and one that I
+shall certainly act upon. How would it be if I were to add a few
+memoranda to every name, hinting at the means of murder most likely to
+be employed by each? So that if I were knocked down with a cudgel, you
+might lay it to Smith; if prussic acid were employed, it would most
+likely be Jones; while a pistol-shot could be confidently ascribed as
+Robinson. Save the detectives a lot of trouble that way."
+
+"Oh, how can you jest on such a subject!" said Miss Ellen,
+reproachfully.
+
+The brother and sister were abashed, and Claud at once apoligised in his
+neat way.
+
+"We're Irish, you know, we must laugh or die," he said. "Only an Irish
+mind could have evolved the idea of a wake; they feast at their funerals
+because the sources of their laughter and their tears lie so close
+together, if they didn't do the one they must do the other. I am so
+relieved this morning--such a load's off my mind. Faith! if I didn't
+talk nonsense, I'd explode, as sure as a gun."
+
+"Bottle up your nonsense a bit, my boy, for the ears of one who's more
+used to it than Miss Willoughby," said Lady Mabel, patting him on the
+head admonishingly. "It's been something quite out of his line," she
+went on, explanatorily, "these last few days of anxiety and gravity. It
+has told upon him, poor fellow, and he must let off some steam. I am
+going to walk up to Poole with him, if you'll allow it, to call upon
+Miss Allonby. May we take Elsa with us?"
+
+Lady Mabel had shortened Elaine's name into Elsa, because she declared
+her to be like the Elsa of the old German myth.
+
+"She has just the expression," she said, "which I should imagine to have
+been worn by Elsa of Brabant, before the appearance of the champion on
+the scene. She has an unprotected appealing look, as if she were
+imploring some one to take her part. If I could get her to London she
+would not long appeal in vain."
+
+Elsa worshipped Lady Mabel, as it was natural she should; and the idea
+of a visit to London being held out to her had caused such excitement as
+prevented her sleeping and almost bereft her of appetite. Every turn of
+their visitor's head, every sweep of her tasteful draperies, every puff
+of the faint delicate perfume she used, every tone of her deep vibrating
+voice was as the wave of an enchanter's wand to the bewildered girl. She
+looked now with aching misery on her own ill-cut, misfitting garments;
+she pondered with sharp misgivings over her face in the glass, as she
+remembered the thick artistic sweep of Lady Mabel's loose grey hair, as
+it made dark soft shadows over those mysterious, never-silent eyes. A
+passion of discontent, of longing, of unnamed desire was sweeping like a
+summer storm over the girl's waking heart and mind. The feminine
+impulses in her were all arousing. Slowly and imperfectly she was
+learning that she was a woman.
+
+With the strange reticence which she had imbibed from her bringing up,
+she mentioned none of this. Lady Mabel had very little idea of the
+seething waves of feeling which every look and smile of hers was
+agitating afresh. She talked to the girl on various subjects, to be
+surprised anew at every venture by the intense and childish ignorance
+displayed; but on the subjects which were just then paramount in
+Elaine--dress, personal appearance, love--of these she never touched,
+and so never succeeded in striking a spark from the smouldering
+intelligence. It was Miss Charlotte who most noted a difference in her
+pupil.
+
+In the old days, when the girl first came Edge, she had been the
+possessor of a temper which was furious in its paroxysms. This temper
+the combined aunts had set themselves soberly to subdue and to
+eradicate. They had succeeded admirably as far as the subduing went; no
+ebullition was ever seen; rebellion was as much a thing of the past as
+the Star Chamber or the Inquisition; but as regards eradication they had
+not succeeded at all.
+
+In some dumb indescribable way, Miss Charlotte was now made by her pupil
+to feel this daily. In her looks and words, but chiefly in her manner,
+was an unspoken defiance. She still came when she was called, but she
+came slowly; she still answered when spoken to, but her manner was
+impertinent, if not her words. She was altered, and the fact of not
+being able to define the change made Miss Charlotte irritable.
+
+Poor lady! she sat stewing in the hot school-room, hearing Elaine read
+French with praiseworthy patience and fortitude, little thinking how
+entirely a work of supererogation such patience was, nor how much more
+salutary it would have been for both if, instead of goading her own and
+her niece's endurance to its last ebb over the priggish observations of
+a lady named Madame Melville--who gave her impossible daughter bad
+advice in worse French with a persistency which would certainly have
+moved said daughter to suicide had she not been, as has been said,
+impossible--if instead of this Miss Charlotte had taken Elsa to see the
+world around her, the pleasant, wholesome world of rural England, with
+its innocuous society, its innocent delights, its tennis-parties and
+archery meetings, its picnics and pretty cool dresses, and light-hearted
+expeditions. Above all, its youthfulness.
+
+To be young with the young--that was what this poor Elsa needed. That
+was what her aunts could not understand, and they could not see,
+moreover, what consequences might spring from this well-intentioned
+ignorance of theirs.
+
+Says Mrs. Ewing, who perhaps best of all Englishwomen understood English
+girlhood:
+
+"Girls' heads are not like jam-pots, which, if you do not fill them,
+will remain empty."
+
+Every girl's head will be full of something. It is for her parents and
+guardians--spite of Mr. Herbert Spencer--to decide what the filling
+shall be.
+
+Nothing of this recked Elaine's instructress, as she sat with frowning
+brow and compressed mouth, listening while the intolerable Madame
+Melville accosted her daughter thus:
+
+"You are happy in your comparisons this morning, and express them pretty
+well."
+
+In dreary monotone and excruciatingly English accent the girl read on,
+as the obsequious dancing master wished to know.
+
+"Vous ne voulez point que je la fasse valser?"
+
+"Non," replied his prophetic patroness, "je suis persuadee que cette
+mode n'est pas faite pour durer!"
+
+And this volume bore date 1851.
+
+To waltz! The very word had a secret charm for Elaine. What was this
+waltzing? she ignorantly wondered. Something pleasant it must have been,
+as Madame Melville declined to allow poor Lucy to learn it, and her
+meditations grew so interesting that she lost her place on the dreary
+page, and was only recalled to the present by Miss Charlotte's irritable
+tones:
+
+"I am sure I cannot think what has come over you, Elaine! You seem quite
+unable to fix your attention on anything."
+
+Meanwhile, upstairs in Miss Ellen's room, Elaine was the subject of
+conversation.
+
+"May we take your Elsa with us on our walk to Poole? She will like to
+see Miss Allonby?" Lady Mabel suggested, instigated thereto by a hint
+from Claud that he should like to renew the acquaintance of the Sleeping
+Beauty in the Wood.
+
+"If you could wait half an hour--Charlotte does not like her hours
+interfered with," said Miss Ellen, deprecatingly. "She will be free at
+four o'clock."
+
+"Does Miss Brabourne never take a holiday?" asked Claud, tracing
+patterns with his stick on the carpet.
+
+"Well--not exactly. She is not hard worked, I think," said Miss Ellen,
+feeling bound to support the family theory of education, in spite of her
+own decided mistrust of it. "It is very bad for a young girl to have
+nothing to occupy her time with--my sister considers some regularity so
+essential."
+
+"I should have thought," Lady Mabel was unable to resist saying, "that a
+young woman of nineteen could have arranged her time for herself, if she
+had been properly taught the responsibilities of life."
+
+The wavering pink flush stole over the invalid's kind face.
+
+"I am afraid we middle-aged women forget the flight of years," she said,
+with gentle apology. "To us, Elaine is still the child she was when she
+came to us twelve years ago."
+
+"It's most natural," said Claud. "Will Miss Brabourne always live with
+you? I remember, when Colonel Brabourne died, hearing that the terms of
+the will were confused, or that there was some mess about it. Was not
+the estate thrown into Chancery? I hope it is not rude of me to ask?"
+
+"Not at all," answered Ellen, "I should be really glad to talk over the
+child's future with some one not so totally ignorant of the world as I
+am. The whole story is a painful one to me, I own, but it has to be
+faced," she added, with an effort, after a short pause; "it has to be
+faced."
+
+"Don't you say a word if you would rather not," said Lady Mabel,
+earnestly. "But if you would really like my brother's opinion, he will
+be most interested to hear what you have to say. He is a barrister, and
+might be of some use to you."
+
+The Honorable Claud grew rather red, and laughed at his sister.
+
+"Don't let Mab mislead you, Miss Willoughby," he said. "I was called to
+the Bar in the remote past, but I have never practised. Still, I learnt
+some law once, and any scraps of legal knowledge I may have retained are
+most entirely at your service."
+
+"You are very kind, and I will most willingly tell you as well as I can
+how matters stand," said Miss Ellen. "We had formerly another
+sister--Alice--she was the youngest except Emily, and she was very
+pretty."
+
+"I can well believe it," said Lady Mabel, purely for the pleasure of
+seeing Miss Willoughby's modest blush.
+
+"In those days," she went on, "we went every year to London for the
+months of May and June; my father was alive, you understand, and he
+always took us. There we met Colonel Brabourne, and he fell in love with
+our pretty Alice. My father saw no reason against the match, except that
+he was twenty years older than she; but she did not seem to mind that,
+and was desperately in love with him. When they had been engaged only a
+few weeks, my father died very suddenly, and, as soon as the mourning
+would allow, Colonel Brabourne insisted on being married. It was a very
+quiet wedding, of course, and there were no settlements of any
+kind--nothing that there should have been. Everything was very hurried;
+his regiment was just ordered to India, he wished her to accompany him;
+we knew nothing of business, and we had no relations at hand to do
+things for us. They were just married as soon as the banns could be
+called, and away they went to Bengal. My father left his fortune to be
+divided equally among his daughters, and secured it to their
+descendants, so that Elaine will have, in any case, more than L200 a
+year of her own; but now comes the puzzling part of the story. The
+climate of India proved fatal to my sister. She was never well after her
+marriage; and, when Elaine was born, her husband got leave to bring his
+wife and child to England, to see if it were possible to save her. It
+was not. She flagged, and drooped, and pined, and gradually we got to
+know that she was in a deep decline. It was just at this time, when her
+husband and all of us were almost crazy with anxiety, that Alice's
+godmother, a rich widow lady named Cheston, living in London, died. In
+consequence of Alice being named after her, she left her all her
+fortune--about fifty thousand pounds. This was left quite
+unconditionally.
+
+"We were all so anxious about our sister, I think we scarcely noticed
+the bequest. She died about a fortnight afterwards, leaving a little
+will, dated before she knew of this legacy, bestowing everything she
+could upon her husband, with whom, poor darling, she was madly in love,
+then and always. She was, of course, sure of his doing all he could for
+little Elaine. My experience of the world is very limited," said Miss
+Willoughby, wiping her eyes, "but I must say I think men are the most
+incomprehensible beings in creation. You would have thought that
+Valentine Brabourne was absolutely inconsolable for the loss of his
+wife. He threw up his commission, and went to live in seclusion, taking
+his baby daughter with him. We saw nothing of him."
+
+"Did he live on his wife's money?" asked Claud.
+
+"He lived on the income of it chiefly. He had very little of his own,
+besides his pay. I did not see how we could interfere. His wife's will
+left the money to him, by implication, and of course I thought it would
+be Elaine's. But when she was three years old he married again--a
+person who--who----" Miss Willoughby faltered for an expression. "Well,
+a person of whom my sisters and I could not approve. She was a Miss
+Orton, and lived with her brother, who was what they call a book-maker,
+I believe. It did seem so strange that, after mourning such a wife as
+Alice, he should suddenly write from the midst of his retirement to
+announce himself married to such a person. We did not wish to be selfish
+or unpleasant--we invited him and his wife down here, but we really
+could not repeat the experiment."
+
+Tears of pleading were in the poor lady's eyes.
+
+"I hope you will not think me narrow," she said, "I know we lead too
+isolated a life; but I could not like Mrs. Brabourne. She smoked
+cigarettes, and drank brandy and soda water. She was always reading a
+pink newspaper called the _Sporting Times_, and I think she betted on
+every horse-race that is run," said poor Miss Willoughby, vaguely. "She
+talked about Sandown and Chantilly, and other places I had never heard
+of. She never went to church, and appeared, from her conversation, to do
+more visiting and gambling on the Sunday than on any other day. She was
+a handsome young woman, with her gowns cut like a gentleman's coat. She
+drove very well, and used to wear a hard felt hat and dogskin gloves. I
+cannot say I liked her. My sisters could none of them approve. She was
+unwomanly, I cannot but think it, and I am sure she influenced her
+husband for evil. Soon after her stay here, she had a baby, but it died
+within twenty-four hours of its birth; so the next year, and the next. I
+am sure she took no proper care of herself, but when she had been four
+years married, she had a son, who did live, and was called Godfrey. Six
+months after his birth, his father was thrown in the hunting-field and
+killed. He left a will bequeathing the whole of his property--this fifty
+thousand which had been poor Alice's,--to his son Godfrey. Mrs.
+Brabourne was to have three hundred a year till her death, and a certain
+sum was set aside for the maintenance and education of both children
+till they were of age. And all this of Alice's money--our Alice! Do you
+call that a just will, Mr. Cranmer?"
+
+"I call it simple theft," said Claud, shortly; "but, if the will your
+sister left be legally valid, I don't see what you are to do in the
+matter."
+
+"So our solicitor said," sighed Miss Willoughby. "He thought we had no
+grounds at all for litigation; but I think that everyone must confess
+that it is a hard case. I wish it had been possible to throw it into
+Chancery, but it was not."
+
+"I can just remember there being some talk about it," said Lady Mabel.
+"I call it a very hard case."
+
+"If it had been half!" said Miss Willoughby. "I would not have grudged
+the boy half my sister's fortune; but that he should leave it all to
+him!"
+
+The clock struck four as she spoke, and the sound of a closing door was
+heard.
+
+"Here comes Elaine," she said. "Please mention nothing of all this to
+her. She does not know."
+
+"Does she not? Why not tell her?" asked Lady Mabel.
+
+"I thought it might set her against her brother," answered Miss Ellen,
+"or make her disrespect the memory of her father. But I cannot feel as I
+should towards the Ortons I must confess. There was something very
+underhand; something must have been done, some undue influence exerted
+to induce him to leave such a will, for I know he loved Alice as he
+never loved his second wife."
+
+"Is she alive still, the second Mrs. Brabourne?" asked Claud.
+
+"No; she died two years ago. The boy is more than twelve years old. The
+money will be worth having by the time he attains his majority; when
+Elaine is twenty-one, I shall make another effort on her behalf."
+
+"I am sure I wish you success, but I am afraid you have no case," said
+Claud, regretfully.
+
+As he spoke the door was opened, and Elaine walked in.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XIII.
+
+    Ankle-deep in English grass I leaped,
+    And clapped my hands, and called all very fair.
+
+           *       *       *       *       *
+
+    In the beginning, when God called all good,
+    Even then was evil near us, it is writ;
+    But we indeed, who call things good and fair,
+    The evil is upon us while we speak;
+    Deliver us from evil, let us pray.
+
+    AURORA LEIGH.
+
+
+As the young girl entered the room Claud Cranmer rose, with a quick
+gesture of courtesy.
+
+Elaine, not prepared to see strangers, paused, and the ingenuous morning
+flush of youth passed over her face in a wave of exquisite carmine.
+Claud thought he had never beheld anything more lovely than that
+spontaneous recognition of his presence. She had not blushed when he met
+her first--her anxiety for Allonby had been paramount. And the pale girl
+up at Poole, with the sculptured chin, never blushed at all, but looked
+at him with frank and limpid eyes as if he were entirely a matter of
+course.
+
+But for Elsa, dawn had begun; the sun was rising, and naturally the
+light was red. Oddly enough, an old country rhyme floated in Claud's
+mind--
+
+    "A red morning's a shepherd's warning."
+
+He did not know quite why he should think of such a thing, but a good
+many varying emotions were stirred in him as he scrutinised this girl
+who had so nearly escaped the inheritance of a considerable fortune.
+
+What a complexion she had! Her inexorable critic mentally compared her
+with the slim Wynifred. A throat like a slender pillar of creamy marble,
+lips to which still clung that delicate moist rose-red which usually
+evaporates with childhood, a cheek touched with a peach-like down,
+eyelashes long enough to shadow and intensify the light eyes in a manner
+most individual, but hard to describe. What a pity, what a thousand
+pities, that all this effect should be marred and lost by the cruel
+straining back of the abundant locks, and the shrouding of the
+finely-developed form in a garment which absolutely made Mr. Cranmer's
+eyes ache.
+
+The girl smiled at him--a slow smile which dawned by degrees over her
+lovely, inanimate face. The look in her eyes was enough to shake a man's
+calmness; and when she asked, "How is Mr. Allonby?" he felt that she had
+some interest to spare for Mr. Allonby's messenger.
+
+Here was a type of girlhood he could understand, for whose looks and
+smiles he could supply a motive.
+
+He watched her every moment keenly, and soon found out that her
+awkwardness was the result of diffidence and restraint, not of native
+ungainliness. He determined that Mabel must have her to stay with her,
+and civilize her. She would more than repay the trouble, he was
+confident.
+
+He saw the sudden ardent glow of pleasure succeed the restless chafing
+of suspense when at last permission was accorded for her to walk to
+Poole with Lady Mabel.
+
+"Run and put on your hat," said Miss Ellen, indulgently, and away darted
+the girl with radiant face.
+
+"Jane," she cried, bursting into the _ci-devant_ nursery where Miss
+Gollop reigned supreme, "where's my best hat--quick! I am going out with
+Lady Mabel and Mr. Cranmer!"
+
+"Your best hat's in its box, where it'll stop till Sunday," answered
+Jane, placidly. "You ain't going trapesing along the lanes in it, I can
+tell you, Lady Mabel or no Lady Mabel."
+
+"Oh, Jane, you are unkind! Do let me wear it."
+
+"You shan't wear it, Miss Elaine, and that's flat. Once take it out in
+this sun, you'll have the straw burnt as yaller as them sunflowers."
+
+"Where's my second best?" grumbled the girl, turning to the press.
+
+"On the Philmouth Road, for all I knows; at least, that's where you last
+left it, ain't it?"
+
+"And am I to go out in my garden-hat--with Lady Mabel Wynch-Frere?"
+cried Elaine, aghast.
+
+"I don't see no other way for it," said Jane, calmly, drawing her
+thimble down a seam to flatten it, with a rasping noise which set her
+charge's teeth on edge.
+
+"Well, Jane, I never heard of such a thing!" she burst forth after a
+pause of speechless indignation.
+
+"I can't help it, miss; I must teach you to take care of your clothes.
+You're not going flaunting over to Mrs. Battishill's in that ostrich
+feather o' yours. Maybe, next time you drop your hat in the road, you'll
+remember to pick it up again."
+
+Surely Elaine's fairy godmother spoke through the untutored lips of Jane
+Gollop!
+
+Instead of presenting herself to Claud in a headgear covered with yellow
+satin ribbon and a bright blue feather, Elsa appeared downstairs in her
+wide-brimmed garden-hat, simply trimmed with muslin; and narrowly
+escaped looking picturesque.
+
+How different was the road to Poole, now that she trod it with such
+companions! Her heart was light as air, her young spirits were all
+stretched eagerly, almost yearningly forward into the unknown country
+whose border she had crossed so lately.
+
+Her fancy played sweetly around the image of the artist-hero, her pulses
+beat a glad chime because he was living, and not dead. She waxed less
+shy, and chatted to her companions,--even daring to ask questions, a
+thing her aunts never permitted. She gave them reminiscences of her
+childish days, when she lived in London, and of a dream she had
+constantly of streets full of houses, one after another, in endless
+succession, with very few trees among them.
+
+"That is all I know of London," she said, "and I hardly remember
+anything that happened, except hearing the baby cry in the night. It was
+Godfrey. I used to wake up in my little bed, and see nurse sitting with
+the baby near the lamp, rocking him in her arms. I remember being taken
+in to kiss papa when he was dead; but that was not in London--it was
+somewhere in the country--at Fallowmead, where Godfrey's uncle has his
+racing-stud. I remember mamma; she was not my real mamma. I could not
+bear her. She used to whip me, and once I bit her in the arm."
+
+"My dear Elsa!" said Lady Mabel.
+
+"I did. I was a very naughty little girl--at least, Jane always says
+so. I remember being shut up alone for a punishment."
+
+As she spoke, they turned a bend in the road, and came in sight of the
+spot where the crime had been perpetrated.
+
+Two men stood there talking together. One was Mr. Dickens of Scotland
+Yard, the other Elsa greeted with a glad wave of the hand in greeting.
+
+"Oh," cried she, springing forward, "it's Mr. Fowler, it's my godfather!
+I did not know he had come back!"
+
+At the sound of her voice, Mr. Fowler turned round, and his face lighted
+up as she came towards him.
+
+"Why, Elsie!" he said, "there you are, my child! And I'm hearing such
+doings of yours, it makes me quite proud of you. And you, sir," he went
+on, addressing Claud, "are Mr. Cranmer, I suppose, and entitled to my
+very hearty goodwill for your behavior in this matter."
+
+Claud had heard of Mr. Fowler before, as a local justice of the place,
+and he gladly shook hands with him, scrutinizing, of course, as he did
+so, the general mien and bearing of his new acquaintance.
+
+Mr. Fowler was short, square, sturdy, and plain. His hair and thick
+short beard had once been jet black, but were now iron grey. His skin
+was exceedingly dark, almost swarthy, and his eyes, big, soft, and
+luminous, were his one redeeming feature. His manner was a curious
+mixture of gentleness and strength; he never raised his voice, but his
+first order was always instantly obeyed. Something there was about him
+which invited confidence; he was not exactly polished, yet his manner to
+women was perfect. Gentle as was his eye, it yet had a curiously
+penetrating expression, and Lady Mabel, used as she was to what should
+be the best school of breeding in England, was yet struck with the
+simplicity and repose of his address.
+
+"I only came back to Edge Combe yesterday," he said, and, though he had
+lived all his life in South Devon, Claud noticed at once that the rough
+burr of the "r" was absent from his quiet voice. "I am often absent for
+some months, on and off, managing some tin mines in Cornwall; and it was
+through the medium of the newspapers I learned what had been going
+forward in our little valley. And now, Mr. Cranmer, what do you think
+about it?"
+
+"I'm afraid I must postpone my opinion till Mr. Allonby himself has been
+questioned," said Claud.
+
+"Exactly what I've been telling Mr. Fowler," observed Mr. Dickens, who
+wore a baffled and humbled look. "Nothing can be done till Mr. Allonby
+speaks. It's a case of _vendetta_, I'll go bail; and it's done by one
+that's accustomed to the work, too; accustomed to cut the stick and
+leave no traces."
+
+"Cut the stick--the stick they knocked him down with?" asked Elsa in
+low, horrified tones.
+
+Claud smiled.
+
+"Your theory hardly holds with Dr. Forbes, Mr. Dickens," he said rather
+shortly. "He declares the blows were given by a novice--by a hand that
+didn't know where to plant his blows."
+
+"Well, I don't know what to say," snapped the detective. "Here's a man
+beat almost to death on the high-road in broad daylight; some one must
+have done it. Where is he? There ain't a trace of him. Nobody has met a
+single soul that could be taken up on suspicion--nobody has seen anybody
+as so much as looked suspicious. Miss Brabourne and her servant met
+nobody as they came along not half-an-hour afterwards. It ought to be
+some one uncommon deep, and not a tramp nor a fishy-looking party of any
+kind."
+
+All this was true. Claud was inclined to think that the detective had
+done his best, and his ill-success was owing to the very strange nature
+of the case, and not to his inability.
+
+They left him sadly ruminating by the wayside, and crossed the Waste to
+the farm, Elaine with her hand clasped tightly in the square, short,
+hard palm of her godfather.
+
+"This has been an adventure for you, little woman," he said. "What do
+the aunts say?"
+
+"They are surprised," answered she, with her usual paucity of
+vocabulary.
+
+"I should think they were! And horrified too--eh?"
+
+"Yes, very. Aunt Fan nearly had hysterics."
+
+"Poor Aunt Fan! I don't wonder. I have a great respect for the Misses
+Willoughby," he said, turning to Lady Mabel. "I have known them all my
+life."
+
+His voice seemed to soften involuntarily as he said it, and, as his eyes
+rested lingeringly on Elaine's face, Lady Mabel could not help framing
+a romance of twenty years ago, in which he and pretty Alice Willoughby
+were the leading characters; and a swift bitter thought of the
+complications of life crossed her mind. Had Alice mated with the deep
+patient love that waited for her, and chosen a home by "Devon's leafy
+shores" instead of the hot swamps of the Ganges, she had probably been a
+happy blooming wife and mother now, with the enjoyment of her
+godmother's fortune duly secured to her children.
+
+And now here stood Elsa, comparatively poor, fatherless, motherless;
+while Henry Fowler, like Philip Ray, had gone ever since "bearing a
+life-long hunger in his heart." All this, of course, was pure surmise,
+yet it seemed to invest the homely features and square figure of the
+Devonian with a halo of tender feeling in her eyes; for Lady Mabel had a
+romance of her own.
+
+"Did you have hysterics, Elsie?" asked Mr. Fowler.
+
+"No; I lost my hat," answered she, in a matter-of-fact way which made
+them all three laugh.
+
+"It was a wiser thing to do," he answered, in his quiet voice. "But the
+whole affair must have been a great shock to you, lassie."
+
+"Yes," said the girl--an inadequate, halting answer.
+
+Dimly she was feeling that that day had been not all darkness--that it
+was the beginning of life. She did not know the inviolable law of
+humanity, that no new life is born without a pang; but imperfectly she
+felt that her pain had been followed by a feeling of gladness for which
+she could not account, and that the days now were not as the days that
+had been.
+
+"What a solitude," says somebody in some book, "is every human soul." At
+that moment the solitude of Elaine Brabourne's soul was very great. She
+was standing where the brook and river met; vaguely she heard the sound
+of coming waters foaming down into the quiet valley. It awed her, but
+did not terrify. There was excitement, but no fear. And of all this
+those who walked beside her knew nothing.
+
+Henry Fowler was one of those who surround womanhood with a halo, and
+his feminine divinity had taken form and shape. It had borne a name, the
+name of Alice Willoughby--for Lady Mabel's surmise had been correct.
+
+Had he known how near the torrent stood near the untried feet of
+Alice's daughter, he would have flung out his strong right arm, caught
+her in a firm hold, and cried, "Beware!"
+
+But he did not know. He saw only with his waking eyes, and those told
+him that Elaine had grown prettier--nothing more. She was safe and
+sound--she was walking at his side. The vital warmth of her young hand
+lay in his. No care for her future troubled him just then.
+
+He chatted to Claud about the details of the mysterious assault. There
+seemed but one subject on which it was natural to converse, in the
+Combe, in those days.
+
+When they came to the bridge, he made the girl pass over its crazy
+planks before him, and jumped her from the top of the stile.
+
+As they neared the farm-house, a sound of loud crying, or rather
+roaring, greeted them; and when Mr. Fowler, with the privilege of old
+custom, walked into the house, and through to the kitchen, there lay
+Saul the idiot, his whole length stretched on the floor, his face purple
+with weeping, and kicking strenuously.
+
+Clara Battishill stood against the table, the color in her pretty little
+cheeks, her chest heaving as with recent encounter, her mien triumphant.
+
+"Saul Parker, hold your noise at once--get up off the flags--stand up, I
+say! What's all this about, eh?" said Mr. Fowler, in his even, unruffled
+tones.
+
+Saul left off howling directly, and, after taking a furtive look at the
+company, hid his tear-strained visage with a wriggle of anguish.
+
+Clara burst out in her shrill treble.
+
+"I've give him a taste of the stick, I have," said she, brandishing a
+stout ash twig, "for killing o' my turkey. He's a cruel boy, he is, and
+I'm very angry wi' him. He took an' threw great rocks over into the
+poultry-yard, and Miss Allonby, she was there wi' me, and he might ha'
+killed both of us; but 'stead o' that, he goes an' kills my best turkey
+I set such store by. I'll l'arn him to throw stones, I will! I's take
+an' tell me mother I won't have un abaout the place if he's going to
+take to throwing stones."
+
+"It won't do," said Mr. Fowler, lightly touching the recumbent Saul with
+his foot. "I always said it wouldn't do when the poor lad grew up. He's
+getting mischievous. Up, Saul!--up, my lad, now at once. You've had a
+beating, which you richly deserved. What made you so naughty, eh?"
+
+For answer the big lad raised himself on his hands and knees, crawled
+towards Clara, and flung his arms humbly about her knees, saying, in his
+imperfect way,
+
+"Poor! poor!"
+
+His castigator was melted at once. She took his beautiful head of golden
+curls between her hands, and patted it energetically.
+
+"There, you see, he don't mean anything; he's as good as gold all the
+time," she said. "But mind, you leave my birds a-be, Saul. If I ketch
+you in my poultry-yard, I'll give you such a licking! I will! So mind!"
+
+He began to whimper penitently. Lady Mabel looked sorrowfully at him.
+
+"Poor boy!" said she, "what an affliction! He ought to be put into an
+asylum."
+
+"Please, your ladyship, his mother won't part with him," said Clara;
+"and he never does no harm, not if you're kind to him. There, there,
+boy, don't cry. I've got some butter-milk for you in t' dairy."
+
+He began to smile through his tears, which he wiped away on her apron.
+Claud thought it the oddest group he had ever seen. The sight of the
+great fellow prone on the ground, meekly taking a beating from a girl
+half his size, was a mixture of the pathetic and the absurd. It half
+touched, half disgusted him. Suddenly a light step on the wooden stair
+made him turn.
+
+Wynifred stood in the doorway.
+
+"Oh,--Mr. Cranmer," she said, faltering somewhat at the presence of
+three strangers. "I beg your pardon, I thought you were alone. My
+brother would like to see you."
+
+"I'll come at once, but first of all you must let me introduce you to my
+sister."
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XIV.
+
+    "Till the lost sense of life returned again,
+    Not as delight, but as relief from pain."
+
+    _The Falcon of Sir Federigo._
+
+
+Allonby's return to full consciousness had been a very gradual affair.
+Each lucid interval had been eagerly watched by Dr. Forbes, who feared
+the loss of memory, partial or entire, which often results from such
+brain attacks. Were the young man to forget--as it was entirely probable
+that he would--the circumstances immediately preceding his illness, the
+difficulty of Mr. Dickens' mission would be increased tenfold.
+
+When it became evident that the sick man recognised his sister, the
+excitement began to culminate. But hours went by, he slept, ate, awoke,
+and dozed again, quite tranquil, and apparently not at all solicitous as
+to how Wynifred came to be at his side, or where he was, or what was the
+reason of his illness.
+
+But at last, one afternoon, the "light of common day" broke in upon the
+calmness of his musings, and sent his mind tossing restlessly to and fro
+in all the tumult of newly aroused consciousness.
+
+He awoke from a delicious sleep with a sense of returning vigor in all
+his big limbs, and, essaying to throw out his left arm, behold! It was
+immovable.
+
+He held his breath, while he surveyed the bandaged limb, and all the
+glittering visions which had been the companion of his delirium came
+showering to earth in a torrent of shining fragments.
+
+Throughout his illness, the idea of the Island Valley of Avilion had
+never left him. No doubt the fact that his dominant idea had been a
+beautiful and a peaceful one had greatly served to help him through. His
+talk, when he rambled, had been all of "bowery willows crowned with
+summer sea," and of the rest of the exquisite imagery with which he had
+mentally surrounded Edge Combe in his holiday dreams. Now, the mirage of
+imaginary loveliness had fled. Like a flash it was gone, and only the
+commonplace daylight of every day remained.
+
+This sudden departure of the baseless fabric of his vision was by no
+means a novelty to Osmond. Often and often before he had had violently
+to recall his winged thoughts to earth: to set aside the sparkling
+beauties of the life he lived in fancy, in order to cope with the
+butcher's bills, the rates and taxes of the life he lived in reality.
+
+But this last dream had been passing sweet, and he thought it had lasted
+longer than was common with the airy things. It had rivetted itself in
+his mind, till he felt that he could close his eyes and commit it to
+canvas from memory alone. He could see the soft dim outline of the
+mythic barge, he could "hear the water lapping on the crags, and the
+long ripple washing in the reeds," and he could see, feature for
+feature, the face of the sorrowing queen. A young, lovely face, with the
+light of morning on it, but with anguish in the eyes, and sympathy of
+tears upon the cheeks.
+
+For a moment he closed his eyes to recall it all. Then he boldly opened
+them, to confront a world with which he felt too weak to cope.
+
+Not much of the said world was visible just then, and what there was
+seemed calculated to soothe and cheer. It was bounded by the four walls
+of a not very large room, the whitewash of whose ceiling was spotlessly
+white, the roses of whose wall paper were aggressively round and pink.
+To his right, a casement window hung wide open; and through it came the
+sighing of a summer wind rustling through elm-trees.
+
+Near this window stood the well-known figure of his sister Wynifred,
+stepping leisurely to and fro before the board on her sketching easel,
+to which she was transferring, in charcoal, some impression which was
+visible to her through the window.
+
+Her straight brows were pulled together so as to make a perpendicular
+furrow in the forehead between them; the soft scratching of her charcoal
+brought back to Osmond common-place memories of the Woodstead Art
+School, wherein he passed three days of every week as a master, when it
+was not vacation time.
+
+Wynifred and Wynifred's occupation were familiar enough. They let him
+know the folly of his dreaming; but there yet remained one puzzling
+thing. How came he to be lying there in bed, with a bandaged arm, in a
+room that was utterly strange to him?
+
+It was rather a remarkable room, too, when one came to study it
+attentively. It possessed a heavy door carved in black oak, which door
+was not set flat in the wall, but placed cross-ways across the
+corner--evidently a relic of great antiquity.
+
+The invalid pondered over that door with a curiosity which was somewhat
+strange, considering that the answer to his puzzle, in the shape of his
+sister, stood so close to him, and that he had only to ask to be
+enlightened.
+
+But it is to be supposed that there is something fascinating in
+suspense, or why do we so often turn over and over in our hands a letter
+the handwriting of which is unknown to us--exhausting ourselves in
+surmise as to who is our correspondent, when we have but to break the
+seal for the signature to stare us in the face? There is no saying how
+long Allonby might have amused himself with conjecture, for it was,
+truth to tell, a state of mind peculiarly congenial to him. He liked to
+feel that he did not know what was to happen next--to wait for an
+unexpected _denouement_ of the situation. He had often, when exploring
+an unknown country, been guilty of the puerile device of sitting down by
+the roadside, just before a sharp bend in the road, or just below the
+summit of a high hill, while he pleased himself with guessing what would
+be likely to meet his eye when the corner was turned, or the hill-crest
+reached. So now he lay, speculating idly to himself, and by no means
+anxious to break the spell of silence by pronouncing his sister's name;
+when suddenly she looked up from her work, half absently, and, finding
+his eyes gravely fixed on her, flung down her charcoal, and came hastily
+to the bedside, wiping her fingers on her apron.
+
+"How are you, old man?" she said, meeting his inquiring look with one of
+frank kindliness. There was no trace of the burst of feeling with which
+she had told Dr. Forbes that her heart was soaring up to the evening
+star in the quiet heavens in gratitude and love. Evidently Miss Allonby
+kept her sentiment for rare occasions.
+
+"I believe I feel pretty well," said he, using his own voice in an
+experimented and tentative way. "But I feel rather muddled. I don't
+quite recall things. I think, if you were to tell me where I am, it
+would give me a leg up."
+
+"Take a spoonful of 'Brand' first," said Wyn; and, taking up a spoon,
+she proceeded to feed him. He ate readily enough; and philosophically
+said no more till she had turned his pillows and arranged his head in
+comfort; all of which she did both quietly and efficaciously, though in
+a manner all her own, and which would have revealed to the eye of an
+expert that she had been through no course of nursing lectures, nor
+known the interior of any hospital.
+
+"There!" she said at last, seating herself lightly on the edge of the
+bed. "Now I will tell you--you are in a place called Poole Farm. Does
+that help you?"
+
+"Poole Farm? Yes," he said, reflectively. "I was sketching near there.
+Did I have a fall? I have managed to smash myself somehow. How did I do
+it?"
+
+"Don't you remember?" asked Wyn, earnestly.
+
+He lifted his uninjured hand and passed it over his forehead. It came in
+contact with more bandages. He felt them speculatively.
+
+"Broken head, broken arm, broken rib," he remarked, drily. "Broken
+mainspring would almost have been more simple. How did it happen, now?
+How did it happen? I can't understand."
+
+"You were painting, in the lane by the wayside," said the girl,
+suggestively. "A picture with a warm key of color, and a little bit of
+the corner of the farm-house coming into it--evening sky--horizon line
+broken on the left by clump of ash-trees."
+
+"Yes, I know. I recollect that," he said. "I walked over from Edge Combe
+in rather a hot sun. I felt a little queer. But a sunstroke couldn't
+break one's bones, Wyn. I must have had a fall, eh?"
+
+"You fell from your camp-stool to the grass," she returned, "but that
+could hardly have hurt you to such an extent."
+
+He lay musing. At last,
+
+"I don't remember anything," he said, with a sigh. "I think the sun must
+have muddled my head. Tell me what happened."
+
+"My dear boy," cried she, "that is exactly what we want _you_ to tell
+_us_!"
+
+"What! Don't you know?" he asked, with a sudden access of astonishment.
+
+"Nothing! Nobody knows anything except that you were found by the
+roadside, all in fragments. Ah! I can laugh now. But oh, Osmond! when
+they telegraphed to me first!"
+
+She leaned over him, and kissed his forehead.
+
+"My dear boy," she said, "I could eat you."
+
+He caught his breath with a weary sigh.
+
+"What's become of Hilda and Jac?" he asked.
+
+"Oh! they are all right--gone to the Hamertons at Ryde, and having a
+delightful holiday. Don't fret," she said, answering fast, and with an
+evident anxiety at the turn his inquiries were taking. But he would go
+on.
+
+"And how long have I been lying here?" he asked, grimly. "I suppose
+there are some good long bills running up, eh? Doctors not the least
+among them." A pair of very distinct furrows were visible on his
+forehead.
+
+"And that commission of Orton's," he sighed out.
+
+Wyn had slipped down to her knees by his bed, and now she took his hand
+and laid her cheek upon it.
+
+"Listen to me, old man," she said; "there is no need to fret, I've
+managed things for you. I wrote first thing to Mr. Orton, and he
+answered most kindly--his friend will be satisfied if the pictures are
+ready any time within six months, so do unpucker your forehead, please.
+As to expense, it won't be much. Mrs. Battishill is the most delightful
+person, but becomes impracticable directly the money question is
+broached. She says she never let her rooms to anybody in her life, and
+she isn't going to begin now. The room would be standing empty if you
+didn't have it, and you are just keeping it aired. As to linen, it all
+goes into her laundry: "She don't have to pay nothing for the washing of
+it, so why should we!" Ditto, ditto, with dairy produce. "It all cooms
+out of her dairy. It don't cost her nothing, and she can't put no price
+on it!" I have been allowed to pay for nothing but the fish and meat I
+have bought; and I don't apprehend that Dr. Forbes' bill will ruin us.
+There! That's a long explanation, but I must get the L s. d. out of your
+head, or we shall have no peace. I've kept my eyes open and managed
+everything. You are _not_ to worry--mind!"
+
+He heaved a long breath of relief.
+
+"Bless you, Wyn!" he said. "But we must not be too indebted to these
+good folks, you know."
+
+"I know! I'll manage it! We must give them a present. They are really
+well-to-do, and don't want our money. Besides, they are, owing to us,
+the centre of attraction to the neighborhood. All Edge Combe is for ever
+making pilgrimages up here to know how you are faring. You are the hero
+of the hour."
+
+"And you can't tell me what it all means?" he asked, with corrugated
+brow.
+
+"I can tell you no more at present," she answered, rising as she spoke.
+"I must feed you again, and you shall rest an hour or two before you do
+any more talking, and, if you are disobedient, I shall send for Dr.
+Forbes."
+
+Whether Osmond found this threat very appalling, or whether what he had
+already heard supplied him with sufficient food for meditation, was a
+matter of doubt; but some cause or other kept him absolutely silent for
+some time; and Wyn, who had retired to her easel, the better to notify
+that conversation was suspended for the present, by-and-by saw his eyes
+close, and hoped that he was dozing again. So the afternoon wore on,
+till voices struck on her ear--voices of persons in eager conversation.
+They were floated to her through the open window, but came apparently
+from round the corner of the house, for she could not see the speakers
+when she looked out.
+
+As the sounds broke the stillness, Osmond's eyes opened wide.
+
+"Who is there?" he asked, hurriedly.
+
+"I don't know," said his sister, peering forth, "I hear Mr. Cranmer, but
+there is some one else."
+
+Then suddenly a little gush of laughter, high and clear, sailed in on
+the hot summer air, followed by the distinct notes of a girl's voice.
+
+"Saul! Saul! Get up, you stupid boy!"
+
+Osmond stirred again. He rolled right over in bed, and turned his eager
+face full to the window.
+
+"Wyn--who is it?" he asked, uneasily.
+
+"I'll go and see if you want to know."
+
+"Stay one minute--I want to hear--who found me by the wayside, as you
+say, in fragments?"
+
+"A young lady and her maid," was the reply, "She is a Miss Brabourne, I
+believe, and lives near here. She ran in search of help, and
+accidentally met a carriage containing two tourists----"
+
+"Brabourne? Isn't that the name of that horrible imp of a child who
+lives with the Ortons?"
+
+"Yes--I believe it is," said Wyn pausing. "_My nephew, the heir to a
+very large property_," she presently added, mimicking a masculine drawl,
+apparently with much success, for her brother laughed.
+
+"That's it," he said. "Well--but who is Mr. Cranmer?"
+
+Wynifred now became eloquent.
+
+She told him all that Claud had done--his kindness, his interest, his
+unwearying attention, his laying aside all plans for the better
+examination of the mystery.
+
+Of course she greatly exaggerated both Mr. Cranmer's sacrifice and his
+philanthropy. He had been interested, that was all. It had amused him to
+find himself suddenly living and moving in the heart of a murderous
+drama, such as is dished up for us by energetic contributors to the
+sensational fiction of the day. Vol. I. had promised exceedingly well:
+Vol. II. seemed likely to be disappointing. In all the "shilling
+horrors," though of course the detective does not stumble on the right
+clue till page two hundred and fifty is reached, still he contrives to
+be erratic and interesting through all the intermediate chapters, by
+dint of fragments of a letter, the dark hints of an aged domestic, the
+unwarranted appearance of a mysterious stranger, or the revelations of a
+delirious criminal.
+
+Since Allonby had burned the sole letter which could have been of any
+importance, and in his delirium talked only of a place and persons alike
+mythical and useless, it really seemed as if the story must stop short
+for want of incident. Mr. Dickens had all but succeeded in persuading
+Claud that they had to deal with a modern English _vendetta_--a thing of
+all others to be revelled in and enjoyed in these days when the
+incongruous is the interesting.
+
+Our jaded palates turn from the mysteries of Udolpho, where all was in
+keeping, where murders were perpetrated in donjon keeps, ghosts were
+fitly provided with arras as a place to retire to between the acts, and
+mediaeval knights and ladies were to the full as improbable as the deeds
+and motives assigned to them. Now something more piquant must be
+provided, above all something _realistic_. Mr. Radcliffe and Horace
+Walpole are relegated to the land of dreams and shadows; give us
+_vraisemblance_ to whet our blunted susceptibilities. Let us have mystic
+ladies, glittering gems, yawning caverns, magic spells; but place the
+nineteenth century Briton, chimney-pot hat and all, in the centre of
+these weird surroundings. Make him your hero; jumble up what is with
+what could never have been, and the first critics in English literature
+shall rise up and call you blessed! They thought themselves dead for
+ever to the voice of the charmer: you have given them the luxury of a
+new sensation; what do you not deserve of your generation? Join the
+hands of the modern English nobleman and the mythical African
+princess--link together the latest development of Yankeeism and dollars
+with the grim tragedy of the Corsican bandit--your fortune is made; you
+are absolutely incongruous; you have out-Radcliffed Radcliffe. She gave
+us the improbable; to you we turn for the absurd.
+
+That Allonby was going to miss such an opportunity as this was, to the
+mind of Mr. Dickens, a _betise_ too gross to be contemplated. He had
+already caused the local newspapers to bristle with dark hints. He
+awaited, in a state of feverish suspense, the waking of the lion.
+
+Could he have seen that lion's unfurrowed brow and unenlightened
+expression, his heart would have sunk within him.
+
+As to Claud, the upshot of it all would not materially affect him,
+whichever way it turned. After all his personal taste for melodrama was
+only skin-deep. He preferred what was interesting to what was thrilling.
+He had taken a liking to the unconscious victim; he was struck with the
+loveliness of the Devonshire valley; the weather was fine; he had
+nothing else to do; and that was the sum of all. Considerably would he
+have marvelled, could he have heard Wynifred's description of his
+conduct as it appeared to her. Nobody that he knew of had ever thought
+him a hero; neither did any of his relations hold self-sacrifice to be
+in general the guiding motive of his conduct.
+
+When Miss Allonby, after instilling her own view of his actions into her
+brother's willing ear, slipped off her apron, hung it over the back of a
+chair, and went to summon this good genius to receive the thanks she
+considered so justly his due, he was totally unprepared for what was to
+come.
+
+To have his hand seized in the languid, bony grip of the sick man, to
+see his fine dark grey eyes humid with feeling, to hear faltering thanks
+for "such amazing kindness from an utter stranger," these things greatly
+embarrassed the ordinarily assured Claud.
+
+He jerked his eye-glass from his eye in a good deal of confusion, he
+pulled the left hand corner of his neat little moustache, he absolutely
+felt himself blushing, as he blurted out a somewhat vindictive
+declaration that,
+
+"Miss Allonby must have given a very highly-colored version of the part
+he had taken in the affair."
+
+"Oh, of course you would disclaim," said Allonby, with an approving
+smile. "That's only natural. But I hope some day the time may come when
+I shall have a chance to do you a kindness; it doesn't sound likely, but
+one never knows."
+
+"But this is intolerable," cried Claud, fuming, "I haven't been kind--I
+tell you I haven't! I have been merely lazy and more than a trifle
+inquisitive! I won't be misrepresented, it isn't fair!"
+
+"Could some fay the giftie gie us," said Wyn, smiling softly at him
+across the bed.
+
+"Oh, well," said the young man, with a sudden softening of voice and
+manner, "it's not often that others see me in the light that you two
+appear to have agreed upon. I don't see why I am to disclaim it. It's
+erroneous, of course; but rather unpleasant on the whole; and, after
+all, we never do judge one another justly. If you didn't think me better
+than I am, you might think me worse; so I'll say no more."
+
+"Better not, it would be labor lost," said Wyn, seriously. "When we
+Allonbys say a thing, we stick to it."
+
+"Do you?" said he, with an intonation of eager interest, as if he had
+never before heard such a characteristic in any family.
+
+The girl nodded, but turned away, and beckoned to him not to talk any
+more.
+
+"We must leave him a little," she said, gently. "Dr. Forbes will soon be
+here, and I don't want him to think him unduly excited."
+
+"Wyn," said Osmond, as his sister and the Honorable Claud reached the
+door, "is Miss Brabourne downstairs?"
+
+"Yes."
+
+"It was she who found me by the roadside?"
+
+"Yes."
+
+"Ah!" He said no more, but turned his face to the window and lay still,
+with his poetic and prominent chin raised a little. It was impossible to
+guess at his musings.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XV.
+
+    Since you have praised my hair,
+    'Tis proper to be choice in what I wear.
+
+    _In a Gondola._
+
+
+When Miss Allonby and Mr. Cranmer emerged into the garden, they found a
+pleasing group awaiting their arrival.
+
+Lady Mabel was sitting in a wicker chair, her gloves were removed, and
+lay rolled up in her lap, her firm white hands were employed with
+tea-cups and cream jug.
+
+On the grass near sat Elsa, her hat off, her eyes dilated with wonder
+and enjoyment. Mr. Fowler stood near her ladyship, cutting
+bread-and-butter.
+
+"Come along, Claud," she cried, as they appeared. "That good Mrs.
+Battishill provides an _al fresco_ tea for us! Sit down and take the
+gifts the gods provide you. Did you ever see such a view?"
+
+"Never," said Claud, with conviction. "Of all the lovely bits of rural
+England, I do think this is the loveliest. What makes its charm so
+peculiar is that it's unique. Half a mile along the high-road either
+towards Philmouth or Stanton, you would never guess at the existence of
+such an out-of-the-way spot of beauty. It really does remind one of what
+your brother called it," he went on, turning to Wynifred, "The 'Island
+Valley of Avilion.'"
+
+"That's in Tennyson, I think," said Mr. Fowler. "I am ashamed to say how
+little poetry I read; we are behind the times here in the Combe, I'm
+afraid--eh, Elsie?"
+
+"I don't know," said the monosyllabic beauty, confused.
+
+Her large eyes were resting on Miss Allonby, drinking her in as she had
+drunk in Lady Mabel. They were not alike, most assuredly, yet from
+Elaine's standpoint there was a similarity. Both of them were evidently
+at ease. Each knew how to sit in her chair, what to do with her hands,
+and, above all, what to say.
+
+When her aunts received company they were excited, disordered. They ran
+here and there, for this and that--they fidgetted, they were flurried.
+
+Wynifred Allonby looked as if she did not know what to be flurried
+meant.
+
+She wore the simplest of grey linen gowns, with an antique silver buckle
+at her waist. Into her belt she had fastened three or four of the big
+dark red carnations which grew in profusion in the farm-house garden,
+and were just beginning to blossom. She was in the presence of an earl's
+sister, whom she had never seen before, yet her calm was unruffled, and
+her manner perfectly quiet. In Elsa's untutored eyes, this was
+inimitable.
+
+Though she herself had now met Mr. Cranmer several times, yet she found
+herself blushing more and more every time she met his eye. Consciousness
+was awake--her quick feminine eye told her that her clothes did not
+resemble those of either of the women beside her.
+
+Both were most simply attired, for it was the whim of Lady Mabel, when
+in the country, to wear short woollen skirts, leaving visible her
+shapely ankles, and otherwise to cast away the conventions of Bond
+Street by the use of wash-leather gloves and a stout walking stick.
+To-day, under a short covert coat of dark blue cloth, she wore a loose
+scarlet shirt, the effect of which was coquettish and telling. Her
+well-looped skirts were also of dark blue, and there was a rough and
+ready suitableness to the occasion about her which was most effective.
+The poor little watching, unfledged Elsa felt a soreness, an intolerable
+jealousy. Why was she so unlike others? Why could she not have different
+gowns? She almost thought she could sit and talk as easily as Miss
+Allonby, if only her dress fitted, and she could wear buckles on her
+shoes.
+
+There was Mr. Fowler, who had always been her own especial property, her
+godfather, the one human being who had ever dared to say, "Let the child
+have a holiday." "Let the child stay up another hour this evening."
+There he was, talking to Miss Allonby in his gentle way, looking at her
+with his honest eyes, laying himself out to entertain her, and not so
+much as throwing a glance at his forlorn Elsa.
+
+Nobody knew what purely feminine sorrows were vexing the young heart.
+
+Lady Mabel was in a frame of mind inclined to be very regretful. She,
+like her brother, had taken a vehement fancy to Edge Combe, and she knew
+she must leave it, and return to London. She wanted to make the most of
+these sunshiny, peaceful hours, these interesting people, this lovely
+landscape.
+
+Her fine eyes gazed down the valley, at the mysterious deeps below them,
+thick with foliage, and the deep glowing sea which formed the horizon.
+
+"What a color that ocean is!" she said. "Do look, Claud, it's quite
+tropical!"
+
+Mrs. Battishill was placing a big dish of clotted cream on the table.
+
+"Eh, for all the world like a great basin of hot starch, isn't it? I've
+often thought so," said she, good-humoredly.
+
+Her prompt exit into the farm-house allowed the smiles to broaden at
+will on the countenances of four of her five auditors.
+
+"Oh, Mab," said Claud, with tears in his eyes, "what a slap in the face
+for your sentiment!"
+
+"I'm not sure that it's not a very apt illustration," cried Wyn, when
+she could speak. "It is really just the same color, and the dip of the
+valley holds it like a basin! Imaginative Mrs. Battishill!"
+
+"You draw, I think, Miss Allonby?" said Mr. Fowler.
+
+"Yes, I am very fond of it," she answered.
+
+"You will be able to do some sketching, now that your mind is at ease
+about your brother."
+
+"Yes; but I am a poor hand at landscape. That is Osmond's province. I
+prefer heads. I should like," she paused, and fixed her eyes on Elsa, "I
+should like to paint Miss Brabourne."
+
+Elsa started as if she had been shot. Up rushed the ungoverned color to
+face, throat, and neck. She could not believe the hearing of her ears.
+
+"To paint me?" she cried. The water swam in her glorious eyes. "Are you
+making game of me?" she passionately asked.
+
+"Making game of you? No!" said Wyn, in some surprise. "I am very
+sorry--I beg your pardon--I am afraid I have distressed you."
+
+Lady Mabel reached out her hand towards the girl as she sat on the
+grass; and, placing it under her chin, turned up the flashing,
+quivering, carmine face and smiled into the eyes.
+
+"Should you dislike to sit for your portrait, Elsa?"
+
+"I don't know--I never tried--I know nothing about it!" cried she,
+enduring the touch, as it seemed, with difficulty, and ready to shrink
+back into herself.
+
+"You would try to sit still, if it would be a help to Miss Allonby, I am
+sure?"
+
+"I don't think she means it," cried the tortured Elsa, with a sob.
+
+"I meant it, of course," said Wynifred, very sorry to have been so
+unintentionally distressing. "But I am ashamed of having asked so much.
+Sitting is very tedious, and takes up a great deal of time."
+
+"I should be very anxious to see what you would make of her," said Mr.
+Fowler, with interest. "Elsa, little woman, you must see if you can't
+keep still, if Miss Allonby is so kind as to take so much trouble about
+you."
+
+"Trouble! It would be both pleasure and education," said Wyn, with a
+smile; "she will make a delicious study, if----"
+
+"If?" said Lady Mabel, turning swiftly as she hesitated.
+
+"If I might do her hair," said Wyn, laughing, and throwing a look of
+such arch and friendly confidence towards Elaine that the shy girl
+smiled back at her with a sudden glow.
+
+"Oh, you may do as you like with my hair, if the aunts will only let me
+sit to you!" she said, with eager change of feeling.
+
+"Leave the aunts to me, Elsie--I'll manage them," said Mr. Fowler,
+reassuringly.
+
+"To think that I must go home and lose all this interest and enjoyment,"
+cried Lady Mabel, in some feigned, and a good deal of real regret.
+
+"Why need you go, Mab?" asked Claud.
+
+"Oh, my dear boy, I must! Edward is coming down to fetch me, and there
+are my darlings to see after. My holiday is over. But I shall comfort
+myself with hoping to have Elsa to stay with me when I am settled.
+Edward writes me word that we shall be obliged to have a house in town
+this winter--my husband has been so ill-advised as to get into
+Parliament," explained she to Mr. Fowler.
+
+"Oh, yes; I remember hearing very gladly of his success," was the
+cordial response. "Also that his electioneering was most ably assisted
+by Lady Mabel Wynch-Frere, who was received with an ovation whenever she
+appeared in public."
+
+He was bending over her as he spoke, handing her the strawberries, and
+she smiled up at him with sudden passion of Irish eyes.
+
+"Any effort in the good cause," she said, with fervency.
+
+"Exactly, in the good cause," he responded. "You may speak out--we are
+all friends here."
+
+"How do you know?" asked Claud. "You don't suppose I sympathize with
+Mab's political delusions, do you? A younger son must be a Radical, as
+far as I can see. The idea of plunder is the only idea likely to appeal
+to his feelings with any force."
+
+Mr. Fowler laughed pleasantly.
+
+"You put me in a difficulty," said he. "I was going to try to persuade
+you to come and take up your quarters in my bachelor diggings in the
+Lower House for awhile and try my shooting; but if you are going to vote
+against the government----"
+
+"You'll have to drive me out of the Lower House--stop my mouth with a
+peerage, eh?" cried Claud.
+
+"Miss Allonby doesn't see the joke," said Mr. Fowler; "my dwelling is
+called the Lower House," he proceeded to explain, "receiving that title
+merely because it happens to be further down the valley than Edge
+Willoughby."
+
+"I see," said the girl, laughing. "Well! as a representative of law and
+order, I'm shocked to hear you advocating shooting, Mr. Fowler!"
+
+"To an Irishman, eh? Yes, it's risky, I own. But what say you, Mr.
+Cranmer, seriously? Come and try my covers?"
+
+It was exactly the invitation Claud wanted. He had no compunction in
+becoming the guest of a well-to-do bachelor, whose birds were probably
+pining to be killed; and it would keep him in this lovely part of the
+country, and within reach of Allonby and his mystery, not to mention
+Elsa Brabourne.
+
+His face lighted up with pleasure.
+
+"But----" he began.
+
+"But it's not the 12th, yet--no, you're right. I can offer you a
+trout-stream to begin with, and a horse if you care about riding. If you
+are bored, you can run up to town, and come down again for the
+shooting."
+
+"I shan't be bored," said Claud.
+
+In point of fact, the whole thing promised most favorably.
+
+A visit to a house with no mistress--where doubtless you might smoke in
+your bed-room, and need never exert yourself to get off the sofa, or put
+on a decent coat, or make yourself entertaining, or go to church twice
+on Sundays.
+
+His bachelor soul rejoiced.
+
+All this, with the ladies within reach if by chance he wanted them or
+their society, why, it was the acme of luxury!
+
+"I was wondering how you were going to begin shooting so soon," said
+Lady Mabel; "but I assure you, Claud will be perfectly happy if only you
+let him loaf about and dream by himself. He likes a contemplative
+existence."
+
+"Yes," said Claud, modestly and even cheerfully accepting this
+description of himself. "I like leisure to congratulate myself that I
+have none of the vices, and few of the failings, of my fellow-creatures
+in this imperfect world."
+
+"_Few_ of the failings--have you _any_?" asked Miss Allonby, with
+innocent surprise, holding a strawberry ready poised for devouring. "Do
+you really admit so much? I am curious to know to what human weakness
+you are free to confess?"
+
+"Would you really like to know? Well--it is a very interesting subject
+to me, so doubtless it must be interesting to other people," said Claud,
+in his debonair way. "Know, then, that I have a fault. Yes, I know it,
+self-deception was never a vice of mine; I see clearly that I am not
+without a defect; and I deeply fear that time will not eradicate it,
+though haply indigestion may do so. This weakness is--strawberries." He
+heaved a deep sigh, and helped himself to his fourth plateful with
+melancholy brow.
+
+"Only one consolation have I," he went on, placing a thick lump of cream
+on the fruit. "It is that the period of degradation is transient. A few
+short weeks in each year, and I recover my self-respect until next June.
+Peaches smile on me in vain, dusky grapes besiege my constancy. My
+friends tempt me with pine-apples, and wave netted melons before my
+dazzled vision; but I remain temperate. Strawberries are my one
+vulnerable point; which, being the case, I know you'll excuse my further
+conversation."
+
+"Say no more," said Wyn, in solemn accents. "A confidence so touching
+will be respected by all."
+
+"Ah! sympathy is very sweet," sighed he. "Have you a failing, by chance,
+Miss Allonby?"
+
+"I am sure I do not know," she answered, with great appearance of
+reflective candor. "My self-knowledge is evidently not so complete as
+yours. If I were conscious of one, I fear I should not have your courage
+to avow it; perhaps because my defect would most likely be chronic, and
+not a mere passing weakness like yours."
+
+During this passage, Lady Mabel had been abundantly occupied in studying
+Elsa's face. Its expression of incredulity and dismay was strange to
+behold. That, two grown-up persons should deliberately set to work to
+talk the greatest nonsense that occurred to them at the moment had never
+struck her as in any way a possibility. What made them do it? Were they
+in earnest? Their faces were as grave as judges, but Mr. Fowler was
+laughing. She hoped that nobody would ever speak to her like that, and
+expect her to reply in the same vein. It overwhelmed, it oppressed her.
+Involuntarily she drew near Lady Mabel, and shrank almost behind her, as
+if for protection from the two who were, like Cicero, speaking Greek.
+
+Lady Mabel amused herself in thinking what Miss Charlotte Willoughby's
+verdict would have been, had she been present.
+
+"I am sure you both have a pretty good opinion of yourselves," she might
+have remarked, or more probably still, "Strawberries are wholesome
+enough when eaten in moderation, but I am sure such excessive indulgence
+must be bad for anybody."
+
+"I don't wonder," said Mr. Fowler, with sly playfulness, "that Miss
+Allonby is unwilling to follow Mr. Cranmer's fearless example, and
+proclaim herself uninteresting for eleven months out of twelve."
+
+"Uninteresting!" cried Claud.
+
+"What so uninteresting as perfection? I am glad I first made your
+acquaintance when you were under the influence of your one defect. I
+doubt I shouldn't have invited you to Lower House if I had met you a
+month later."
+
+"Ah! you have invited me now, and you must hold to it," cried Claud, in
+triumph; "but, as I must admit I have deceived you, and owe you
+reparation, why--to oblige you--I will try to hatch up a special defect
+for August."
+
+"I don't think you'll find it very difficult, dear boy," said Lady
+Mabel, sweetly.
+
+"Difficult to make myself interesting? No, Mab, that has always come
+easily to me; you and I were never considered much alike," was the
+impudent answer.
+
+"His desire to have the last word is really quite--lady-like, isn't it?"
+said his sister to Mr. Fowler; and all four burst out laughing. "Claud,
+I am ashamed of you--get up and put down those strawberries. Here is
+Elsa looking at you in horror and amazement! Do mind your manners."
+
+"As I have devoured my last mouthful, I obey at once. I am like the
+ancient mariner after telling his story. The feverish desire for
+strawberries has passed from me for a while. I become rational once
+more."
+
+"Such moments are rare; let us make the most of them," retorted she,
+"and tell me seriously what your plans are."
+
+"If you'll allow me, I'll walk back with you and Miss Brabourne, and
+expound them on the way. Oh, look, Mr. Fowler, there's that ass Dickens;
+I must go and speak to him a minute, and tell him we're more in the dark
+than ever."
+
+He rose hurriedly, his nonsense disappearing at once, and went down to
+the gate, followed by Henry Fowler.
+
+"We can never be grateful enough to your brother, Lady Mabel," said Wyn,
+gently, when they were out of hearing.
+
+"I am sure he is only too pleased to have had a chance of being of use.
+He is as kind a fellow as ever breathed, and hardly ever does himself
+justice," said Claud's sister, warmly. "He is a real comfort to me, and
+always has been; so thoughtful and considerate, and never fusses about
+anything."
+
+"No, he does everything so simply, and as if it were all in the day's
+work," said Wynifred, as if absently. "It is the kind of nature which
+would composedly perform an act of wild heroism, and then wonder what
+all the applause was for."
+
+Lady Mabel looked swiftly at the speaker. It seemed to her that it was
+the most un-girlish comment on a young man that she had ever heard.
+Perhaps the strangeness of it lay more in manner than in words. Wynifred
+leaned one elbow on the table, her chin rested in her hand; her pale
+face and tranquil eyes studied Mr. Cranmer, as he stood pulling the gate
+to and fro, and eagerly talking to the detective. Her expression was
+that of cool, critical attention. Something in Lady Mabel's surprised
+silence seemed to strike on her sensitive nerves. She looked hurriedly
+up, and colored warmly.
+
+"I beg your pardon," she said, confusedly, "I am afraid I am
+blundering" ... and then broke short off, and pushed back her chair from
+the table. "We have a bad habit at home," she said, "of studying real
+people as if they were characters in fiction; but we don't, as a rule,
+forget ourselves so far as to discuss them with their own relations."
+
+Lady Mabel smiled; it was a pretty and an adequate apology. She thought
+Miss Allonby an interesting girl, and was inspired with a desire to see
+more of her.
+
+"You must come and see me when I am settled in London, Miss Allonby,"
+she said, kindly, "I should like to know your sisters."
+
+"I should like you to know them," was the eager response. "Osmond and I
+are very proud of them."
+
+"They are both younger than you?"
+
+"Yes; Hilda is three years younger, and Jacqueline four. There is only
+just a year between them."
+
+"And you are orphans?"
+
+"Yes."
+
+At this moment Claud approached.
+
+"Miss Allonby," he said, "I wonder if you would get your brother's
+permission for Mr. Dickens to rifle the things he left behind him at the
+'Fountain Head'with Mrs. Clapp?"
+
+"Oh, certainly, I am sure he would have no objection. Perhaps I had
+better come myself," said Wynifred. "I have been wanting to fetch up
+some paints."
+
+"It would be far the best plan," said Claud, with alacrity. "I am going
+to walk down with my sister and Miss Brabourne. Will you come to? I will
+see you safely home again."
+
+"You are very kind," she answered, simply. "I will go and tell Osmond,
+and see whether nurse has given him his tea."
+
+"We shall have to set out soon," said Lady Mabel, "or we shall be late
+for tea at Edge Willoughby."
+
+"The amount of meals one can get through in this climate!" observed
+Claud, pensively. "Why, you have this moment finished one tea, Mab,--I'm
+ashamed of you! Mr. Fowler, how many meals a day am I to have at the
+Lower House?"
+
+"Oh, I think I can promise you as many as you can eat, without taxing my
+cook or my larder too far. We are used to appetites here."
+
+"A fellow-feeling makes us wondrous kind," mused Mr. Cranmer. "The fact
+that King Henry died of a surfeit used to impress me, I remember, with
+an unfavorable view of that monarch's character. But"--he heaved a sigh,
+and, with a side-glance of fun at Elsa, took another strawberry--"_nous
+avons change tout cela_! _Vive_ Devonshire and the Devon air!"
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XVI.
+
+    We read, or talked, or quarrelled, as it chanced.
+    We were not lovers, nor even friends well-matched:
+    Say rather, scholars upon different tracks,
+    Or thinkers disagreed.
+
+    AURORA LEIGH.
+
+
+With his usual forethought, Mr. Cranmer had made out in his own mind a
+plan of the coming walk. He meant to walk from Poole to Edge with Elsa
+Brabourne, the anachronism, and return from Edge to Poole with Wynifred
+Allonby, one of the latest developments of her century.
+
+He felt that there must needs be a piquancy about the contrast which the
+dialogue in these two walks would necessarily present. No doubt one
+great cause of his happy, contented nature was this faculty for amusing
+himself, and at once becoming interested in whatever turned up.
+
+It is scarcely a common quality among the English upper classes, who
+mostly seem to expect that the mountain will come to Mahomet as a
+matter of course, and so remain "orbed in their isolation," and, as a
+natural consequence, not very well entertained by life in general. It
+was this trait in Claud which drew him and his eccentric sister
+together. She was every bit as ready as he to explore all the obscure
+social developments of her day. Anything approaching eccentricity was a
+passport to her favor, as to his; and these valley people had taken
+strong hold on the fancy of both.
+
+He was standing just outside the door, when Wynifred came down ready for
+her walk, and he noted approvingly that the London girl was equipped for
+country walking in the matter of thick shoes, stout stick, and shady
+hat. On the shoes he bestowed a special mental note of approval. Lady
+Mabel had once said that she believed the first thing Claud noticed in a
+woman was her feet. Miss Allonby was intensely unconscious that her own
+were at this moment passing the ordeal of judgment from such a critic,
+and passing it favorably.
+
+"Osmond is very quiet and comfortable, and nurse thinks I can well be
+spared," she announced.
+
+"I must reluctantly bid you all good-bye for the present," said Mr.
+Fowler, regretfully. "I am obliged to go on to visit a farm up this way.
+I wish you a pleasant walk."
+
+He raised his hat with a smile, and stood watching as they started. Lady
+Mabel, urged on by her active disposition, went first, and Wynifred went
+with her. Claud dropped behind with Elaine, and this was the order of
+the march all the way to the village. Mr. Cranmer was resolved to make
+Elsa talk, and he began accordingly with the firm determination that
+nothing should baulk him, and that he would not be discouraged by
+monosyllables. It was well that this resolution was strong, for it was
+severely tried.
+
+The first subject he essayed was the beauty of the scenery, and the joy
+of living in the midst of such a fine landscape. He could have waxed
+eloquent on this theme, and shown his listener how much happier are the
+dwellers in rural seclusion than they who exist in towns, and how it
+really is a fact that the dispositions of those born among mountains are
+freer and nobler than those of denizens of flat ground--with much more
+of the same kind. But he soon became aware that he spoke to deaf ears.
+The girl beside him was not interested: he could not even keep her
+attention. Her feet lagged, her head seemed constantly turning, without
+her volition, back towards the direction of Poole Farm.
+
+"But perhaps you don't share my enthusiasm for the country?" he broke
+off suddenly, with great politeness.
+
+Elsa grew red, stretched out her hand for a tendril from the hedge, and
+answered, confusedly:
+
+"I hate living in the country!"
+
+There was a note in her young voice of a defiance compelled hitherto to
+be mute, and consequently of surprising force. The very fact of having
+broken silence at last seemed to give her courage; after a minute's
+excited pause, she went on:
+
+"I want people--I want companions. I want to be in a great city, all
+full of life! I want to hear people talk, and know what they think, and
+find out all about them. Do you know that I have never met a girl in my
+life till I saw Miss Allonby! And--and--" with voice choked with
+shame--"I am afraid to speak to her. I don't know what to say. I should
+show her my ignorance directly. Oh, you can't think how ignorant I am! I
+know nothing--absolutely nothing. And I do so long to."
+
+"Knowledge comes fast enough," said Claud, impetuously. "You will
+know--soon enough. Don't fret about that. In these days you cannot think
+what a rest it is to find anyone so fresh, so unspoiled--so--so
+ingenuous as yourself, Miss Brabourne! You must forgive my venturing to
+say so much. But, if you only knew what a power is yours by the very
+force of the seclusion you have lived in, you would be overwhelmed with
+gratitude to these wonderful ladies who have made you what you are!"
+
+"Then," said Elaine, shyly, stealing a wary glance at him, "you _do_ see
+that I am very unlike any girl you ever met?"
+
+Claud laughed a little, and hesitated.
+
+"Yes, you are--in your bringing up, I tell you frankly," he said. "As
+regards your disposition, I don't know enough to venture on an opinion."
+
+They walked on a few minutes in silence, and then she said:
+
+"Tell me about London, please."
+
+He complied at once, but soon found out that it was not theatrical
+London, nor artistic London, nor the London of balls and receptions
+which claimed her attention, but the world of music, which to her was
+like the closed gates of Paradise to the Peri.
+
+When he described the Albert Hall, and the Popular Concerts, she drank
+in every word. It was enchanting to have so good a listener, and he
+talked on upon the same theme until the village was reached, when his
+sister faced round, and said that Miss Allonby wished to stop at the
+"Fountain Head," but she and Elsa must hasten on, so as not to be late
+for the Misses Willoughby's tea-time.
+
+It was accordingly settled that Claud should walk up with them as far as
+the gate of Edge and return to fetch Wynifred in half-an-hour. On his
+way back he called at the postman's cottage to see if there were any
+letters for Poole Farm. They put two or three into his hands, and also a
+packet which surprised him. It was addressed to Miss Allonby, and
+obviously contained printer's proofs.
+
+He stared at it. A big fat bundle, with "Randall and Sons, Printers,
+Reading, Llandaff, and London," stamped on a dark blue ground at the top
+left-hand corner.
+
+"So she writes, among other things, does she?" said he, speculatively,
+as he turned the packet over and over. "What does the modern young lady
+not do, I wonder? what sort of literature? Fiction, I'll bet a
+sovereign, unless it is an essay on extending the sphere of feminine
+usefulness, or on the doctrine of the enclitic De, or on First Aid to
+the Sick and Wounded. Strange! How the male mind does thirst after
+novelty! I declare nowadays it is exquisitely refreshing to find a girl
+like Miss Brabourne, who has never been to an ambulance lecture, nor
+written a novel, nor even exhibited a china plaque at Howell and
+James'!"
+
+For Claud had that instinctive admiration for "intelligent ignorance" in
+a woman which seems to be one of the most rooted inclinations of the
+male mind. Theoretically, he hated ignorant woman; practically, there
+were times when he loved to talk to them.
+
+Wynifred was seated in the porch of the inn, talking to Mrs. Clapp, when
+he came up. The subject of conversation was, needless to relate, the
+missing pudding-basin.
+
+"When we find that, miss, the murder'll be aout," was the good lady's
+opinion.
+
+Claud thought so too.
+
+"First catch your hare," he murmured, as he paused at the door. "Have I
+kept you waiting, Miss Allonby?"
+
+"Scarcely a minute," she answered, rising, and nodding a "good evening"
+to Mrs. Clapp.
+
+"I called in at the postman's," he said, as they turned homewards, "and
+have brought you this, as the result of my enterprise."
+
+He produced the packet of proofs, with his eyes fixed on her. Her face
+did not change in the least.
+
+"Thanks," she said, "but what a heavy packet for you to carry--let me
+relieve you of it."
+
+"Certainly not; it goes easily in my pocket;" and he replaced it with a
+curious sense of being baffled. Should he leave the subject, or should
+he take the bull by the horns and tax her with it? It might be merely a
+sense of shyness which made her unwilling to talk of her writings.
+
+"I did not know you were an authoress, Miss Allonby," he said.
+
+"No? I have not written very much," she answered, frankly.
+
+"May I venture to ask what you write? Is it novels?" he asked,
+tentatively.
+
+"It is singular, not plural, at present," she answered, laughing. "I
+have published a novel, and hope soon to bring out another."
+
+"You seem to be a universal genius," he observed.
+
+"That is the kind of speech I never know how to reply to," said
+Wynifred. "I can't demonstrate that you are wrong--I can only protest:
+and I do hate protesting."
+
+"I am very sorry--I didn't know what to say," apologised he, lamely.
+
+"Then why did you introduce the subject?" she answered, lightly. "You
+can't accuse me of doing so. Let us now talk of something on which you
+are more fluent."
+
+He laughed.
+
+"Do you know you are most awfully severe?"
+
+"Am I? I thought you were severe on me. But, if you really wish to know,
+I will tell you that I don't care to talk of my writings, because I
+always prefer a subject I can treat impartially. I can't be impartial
+about my own work--I am either unjust to myself or wearisome to my
+audience. I don't want to be either, so I avoid the topic as much as
+possible. This letter is from my sisters at Ryde--will you excuse me if
+I just peep to see if they are quite well?"
+
+"Most certainly," replied Claud, strolling meditatively on, with a
+glance now and then towards his companion, who was absorbed in her
+letter. He thought he had never beheld such an ungirlish girl in his
+life. That total absence of consciousness annoyed him more than ever.
+Elsa Brabourne was one mass of consciousness, all agitated with the
+desire to please, all eager to know his opinion of her. It really did
+not seem to matter in the least to Wynifred whether he had an opinion
+concerning her at all. Evidently he did not enter into her calculations
+in any other relation than as her brother's benefactor. Her burst of
+gratitude had been very pleasant to the young man's vanity; he had hoped
+at least to arrest her attention for a few days, to make her sensible of
+his presence, intolerant of his absence; but no. He had to confess that
+she was new to him--new and incomprehensible. He could not know that her
+state of impartiality and unconsciousness was an acquired thing, not a
+natural characteristic, the result of a careful restraint of impulse, a
+laborious tutoring of the will. It sprang from a conviction that, to do
+good work as a novelist, one must be careful to preserve the moral
+equilibrium, that no personal agitations should interfere with quiet
+sleep at night, and the free working of ideas. She met everybody with
+the pre-conceived resolution that they were not to make too deep an
+impression. They were to be carefully considered and studied, if their
+characters seemed to merit such attention; but this study was to be of
+their relation to others, not herself. She, Wynifred, was to be a
+spectator, to remain in the audience; on no account was she to take an
+active part in the scenes of passion and feeling enacting on the stage.
+
+No doubt this was not a normal standpoint for any young woman to occupy;
+but she was scarcely to be judged by the same standards as the average
+girl. If blame there were, it should attach to the circumstances which
+compelled her, like an athlete, to keep herself continually in training
+for the race which must be run.
+
+"Hilda and Jacqueline are quite well," she said, folding her paper with
+a smile. "They are having great fun. There is a mysterious yacht at Ryde
+which is causing great excitement; have you heard about it, by chance?"
+
+"I wonder if it is the same that I heard about from a man I know at
+Cowes? Is it called the _Swan_?"
+
+"Yes, that is the name. It belongs to a Mr. Percivale, of whom nobody
+seems to know anything, except that he is very rich and very
+retiring--nobody can get up anything like an intimacy with him. He
+speaks English perfectly; but they do not seem to think that he is
+English in spite of his name. It is interesting, isn't it?"
+
+"Yes, I think it is; but I expect, after all, it is nonsense. Why should
+a man make a mystery about his identity, if you come to think of it,
+unless he's ashamed of it? But, as a novelist, I suppose you have an
+appetite for mystery?"
+
+"Yes, I do think I must own to a weakness that way; you see mystery is
+rare in these days," said Wynifred, meditatively.
+
+"Well, I don't know; we have a good rousing mystery up here in the Combe
+just now--a mystery that I don't think we shall solve in a hurry," said
+Claud, with a baffled sigh, as they drew near the fatal spot in the
+lane.
+
+The girl's face grew grave.
+
+"Yes, indeed," she said, abstractedly.
+
+As if by mutual consent they came to a stand-still, and stood gazing,
+not at the grassy road-side where the crime had been perpetrated, but
+down the fair valley, where the long crescent of the waxing moon hung in
+the dark-blue air over the darkening sea.
+
+"The worst of an untraceable crime like this seems to me," she said, "to
+consist in the ghastly feeling that what has been once so successfully
+attempted, with perfect impunity, might be repeated at any moment--on
+any victim; one has no safeguard."
+
+"Oh, don't say that," he said, hurriedly, "it sounds like a prophecy."
+
+She started, and looked for a moment into his dilated eyes, her own full
+of expression. For the first time in their mutual acquaintance he
+thought her pretty. In the isolation of the twilight lane, rendered
+deeper by the shadow of the tall ash-trees, with the memory of a
+horrible crime fresh in her mind, a momentary panic had seized her. She
+came nearer to him; instinctively he offered his arm, and she took it.
+He could feel her fingers close nervously on it.
+
+"It is so dreadful," she said, in a whisper, "to think of wickedness
+like--like _that_, in such a beautiful world as this."
+
+"It is," he answered, in sober, reassuring tones, "therefore I forbid
+you to think about it. I ought not to have brought you home this way; I
+am an idiot."
+
+"It is I who am an idiot," said the girl, smiling at her own weakness.
+"Ever since I have known you--I mean, you have grown to know me at an
+unfortunate time. I suppose I am a little overdone; you mayn't believe
+it, but I--I hardly ever lose my head like this."
+
+"I can believe it very well," was the prompt reply. "You will be all
+right again in half a minute." He had turned so that their backs were
+towards the fatal spot; and, as if absently, he strolled back a little
+way down the road, her hand still on his arm. He began to speak at once,
+in his easy tones. "Look!" he said, "what a superb night it is! I
+thought I saw a sail, just going behind that tree. Ah! there it is! How
+bright! The moon just catches it."
+
+"Perhaps it is the _Swan_," she answered, struggling valiantly for a
+natural voice. "The girls said I was to look out for it--it is going to
+cruise westward."
+
+"Perhaps it is," he answered. "How phosphorescent the water is in its
+trail--do you see? How the little waves are full of fire!"
+
+    "'The startled little waves, that leap
+    In fiery ringlets from their sleep,'"
+
+she managed to quote, with a feeling of amazement that she should have
+re-conquered her self-possession enough to be able to speak and think at
+all.
+
+Her whole heart was going out to Claud in gratitude for his most
+delicate consideration. The whole affair had lasted but a few moments,
+but she had been very near a breakdown that evening--nearer than she
+herself knew. She had needed to say nothing--one look into her eyes had
+told him just what she was feeling, and instantly all his care had been
+to help her. She had no time to apply any of her habitual restraints to
+the spontaneous rush of kindness with which she was regarding him. All
+of a sudden she had discovered in him a delicacy of sympathy which she
+had never met with in his sex before. He appeared to know exactly what
+she stood in need of.
+
+It seemed to give her whole nature a species of electric shock; the
+carefully-preserved moral equilibrium was being severely strained.
+
+"Will you come now?" he said, presently, in her ear. "I think it would
+be better for you afterwards if you can walk quietly past; but don't if
+you had rather not; we will go the other way round."
+
+"I will walk past, please."
+
+He turned, and walked at her side.
+
+"I heard an anecdote of the mysterious owner of the _Swan_ the other
+day," said he. "I fancy it was worth repeating;" and proceeded to relate
+said anecdote in even tones, making it last until they stood at the gate
+of the farm. There he broke off abruptly.
+
+"I have brought you home just in time to say good-night to your
+brother," said he, brightly.
+
+She turned, and gave him her hand.
+
+"Thank you with all my heart," said she. "You don't know how grateful I
+am. Good-night."
+
+She was gone--her tall slim form darting into the shadow of the doorway.
+
+Claud propped himself against the gate, slowly drew out his cigar-case
+and matches, and lighted up. Then he turned, and leaning both arms on
+the topmost rail, smoked placidly, with his eyes fixed on the vanishing
+white sail, and its track on the phosphorescent water. Presently he
+withdrew his weed from his mouth a moment, and turned to where the
+lights of Edge gleamed in the valley.
+
+"Elsa Brabourne," he mused. "A pretty name: and a lovely girl she will
+be in a year or two. Even if her brother allows her nothing, she will
+have more than two hundred pounds a year of her own, and the Misses
+Willoughby are sure to leave her every penny they possess. A younger son
+might do worse."
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XVII.
+
+    And he came back the pertest little ape
+    That ever affronted human shape:
+
+           *       *       *       *       *
+
+    And chief in the chase his neck he perilled
+    On a lathy horse, all legs and length,
+    With blood for bone, all speed, no strength.
+
+    _The Flight of the Duchess._
+
+
+"Colonel Wynch-Frere? Glad to see you, sir! Fine day for the wind-up,
+isn't it? Never seen Ascot so full on a Friday in my life! Everybody's
+here. Seen my wife, by chance?"
+
+"Yes, a minute ago: in Mrs. Learmorth's box. I've got a little bet on
+with her about this event," answered the gentleman addressed, tapping
+his little book with a gold pencil-case, and smiling.
+
+It was the lawn at Ascot: and it was brilliantly thronged, for the rain,
+which had emptied itself in bucketfuls on Cup day, had at last relented,
+and allowed the sun to burst forth with warmth and brightness for the
+running of the Hardwicke Stakes.
+
+"Ah! I don't know when I have been so excited over a race in my life,"
+said the first speaker. "I'm of the opinion that Invincible is going to
+the wall at last. Carter's on Castilian, you know, and he's going to
+ride to win."
+
+"Can't do it," said the colonel, shortly.
+
+"_Can't he?_"
+
+"No. He'll try all he knows, but Invincible is--Invincible, you know."
+
+"I know he has been hitherto; but he's never met Castilian in a short
+distance; I say all that bone will tell. I'll give you two to one on
+it."
+
+The bet was accepted, and Frederick Orton nodded to himself in a
+confident way, which also made his companion anxious, for he knew his
+was an opinion not to be despised.
+
+"Haven't seen my young nephew, have you?" asked Orton, as he made a
+memorandum in his book.
+
+"Not that I know of. What nephew?"
+
+"My young limb of Satan--confound him!" said Orton, with a laugh. "He's
+made his book as carefully as if he had been fifty years old. I've
+fetched him twice out of the ring by the scruff of his neck to-day; but
+Letherby, my old groom, is with him, so I suppose he's all right."
+
+"He's beginning early," observed Colonel the Honorable Edward
+Wynch-Frere, in his slow way.
+
+"He is. What do you think? He wants to ride Welsh Rabbit for the
+Canfield Cup. What do you think, eh? Should you let him do it?"
+
+The colonel meditated for some moments.
+
+"Is he strong enough in the wrists? That's where I should doubt him," he
+said, reflectively. "He rode splendidly at those private races of yours
+at Fallowmead; but then he knew his ground as well as his horse; he'd
+have to carry weight at Canfield."
+
+"Of course. But Letherby says he could do it. The only thing is the risk
+of a bad throw. These things are done in a minute, you know; and he's
+heir to a big property. It's been well nursed, and, if anything happened
+to the poor little beggar, plenty of people would be kind enough to
+say----"
+
+"I rode in a steeple-chase when I was sixteen," observed Colonel
+Wynch-Frere.
+
+In fact, he looked more like a stud-groom than anything else you could
+fancy. No wonder; he had but two ideas in the world: one was
+horse-racing, the other was his wife. It seemed, on the whole, rather a
+pity that Lady Mabel's very wide range of sympathies should include
+neither horse-racing nor her husband. It was purgatory for her to go and
+stay at the house of Lord Folinsby, his father, the great Yorkshire
+earl, where the riding-school was the centre of attraction to all her
+brothers and sisters-in-law, and where the young men seemed always in
+training for some race or another, cut their whiskers like grooms,
+walked bandy-legged, and talked of the stables. Thus, the colonel
+indulged in his horse-racing and his wife separately; and endeavored,
+with all the force of his kind heart and limited intellect, not to talk
+of the first when in the presence of the second.
+
+But to-day every faculty he had was centred on the question as to
+whether or not the duke's marvellous chestnut, Invincible, would have to
+lay down his laurels; and he moved along by Mr. Orton's side talking
+quite volubly, for him, on the all-engrossing theme, and the reports as
+to who was likely to drop money over the race.
+
+Be it stated that he was eminently a racing, not a betting man; he was
+no gambler, though always ready to back his own opinion.
+
+The grand stand was packed, and the ladies' dresses as brilliant as the
+June sky.
+
+The two men, moving slowly on, at last caught the eyes of two ladies who
+were beckoning them, and accordingly went up and joined them.
+
+"You are only just in time--they have cleared the course," said Mrs.
+Learmorth, a lady sparkling in diamonds but deficient in grammar.
+
+"My dear Fred, where's Godfrey?" asked Mrs. Orton, a handsome, very dark
+young woman, with a high color and flashing eyes.
+
+"Oh, he's somewhere about: Letherby's looking after him," was the
+nonchalant reply, as he lifted a pair of field glasses to his eye, and
+presently announced, in a tone of keen excitement; "They'll be out
+directly. Wait till they canter past the stand. Mrs. Learmorth, you've
+never seen Invincible, have you?"
+
+"Never!" cried the lady, eagerly. "Mind you point him out to me."
+
+"Here they come," said the colonel. "Look--that's Lord Chislehurst's
+Falcon--I've backed him for a place--lathy beast: but a good deal of
+pace. This one and this are both outsiders. There's the duke's daffodil
+livery, but that is only a second horse put on to make the running. Here
+comes the Castilian, Orton."
+
+Mr. Orton was watching with an absorbed fascination.
+
+"Ay, there's Carter," said he, studying the well-known jockey's face.
+"He means business, I tell you."
+
+The Castilian was a large dark-brown horse, and the crimson and
+pale-blue colors of his rider set him off to advantage; but, like many
+good race-horses, he was not singularly beautiful to the eye of the
+unlearned. He cantered by with some dignity, amid a good deal of
+cheering, when suddenly there was a rush, something like a flash of
+light, a bright chestnut horse, with a jockey in daffodil satin, darted
+like a fairy thing past the stand, followed by a spontaneous shout from
+the crowded onlookers. The magic hoofs seemed scarcely to touch the turf
+over which they swept; and Mrs. Orton, watching with a somewhat sardonic
+smile, observed,
+
+"You'll lose your money, Fred."
+
+"You wait and see," said her husband, oracularly.
+
+"I'm sure I hope he has been careful," she went on, with a laugh, to
+Mrs. Learmorth, "for he has promised to take me to Homburg if he wins."
+
+"Don't talk, Ottilie," cried Frederick Orton, irritably; "don't you see
+they are just going to start!"
+
+The race began--the memorable race which crowned Invincible with the
+chief of his triumphs. Not even with "Carter up" was the Castilian able
+to make so much as a hard fight for it. The lovely chestnut was like a
+creature of elfin birth--it seemed as if he went without effort; the
+field toiling after him looked like animals of a lower breed.
+
+The wild yells of applause rang and echoed in the blue firmament--the
+mad excitement of racing for the moment mastered everyone, from the
+youth whose last sovereign hung on the event to the pretty, ignorant
+girl upon the drag, who had laid her pair of gloves with blind devotion
+on the daffodil satin as it flashed past.
+
+One small boy, held up on the shoulders of an elderly groom, added his
+shrill screams with delight to the tumult around.
+
+"Well done, Invincible! Well rode, Bartlett! Bravo! bravo! Didn't I tell
+my uncle he'd do it! Pulled it off easy! Knew he would! Look at poor old
+Carter! What a fool he looks! Ain't used to coming in a bad second! Let
+me down, Letherby, I want to find my uncle! I say, though, this is
+proper! I've made five pounds over this."
+
+"You just wait one minute, Master Godfrey, till the crowd is cleared off
+a trifle--you'll be jammed to death in this 'ere mob if you don't look
+out, and the master said I was to see to you. You stop where you are."
+
+"You old broken-winded idiot," shouted the child, a boy of fourteen,
+very small for his age, but handsome in a dark, picturesque style. "Do
+move on a bit, you are no good in a crowd. I can't stay here all
+day--elbow on!"
+
+Letherby accordingly "elbowed on" through the yelling, shouting mass of
+betting-men, followed by the excited, dancing boy, who kept on talking
+at the top of his voice.
+
+"Isn't it a sell for aunt, by Jove! She said she wouldn't give me five
+shillings to spend at Homburg next month, and now I've got five pounds!
+Why, Letherby, I knew a fellow who went to the table with five pounds,
+and came back with five hundred. I warrant you I have rare sport at
+Homburg!"
+
+"That I can answer for it, you won't," said his uncle's voice suddenly
+in his ear, and the urchin felt himself abruptly seized by his
+coat-collar with no gentle hand. "Thanks to the upshot of this
+confounded race," said Mr. Orton, angrily, "you won't go to Homburg at
+all, for I can't afford to take you; and what the deuce do you mean by
+hiding away here when you're wanted? Your aunt's going home, and you'll
+go with her. I'll have you out of harm's way."
+
+Godfrey Brabourne made no reply. He skulked at his uncle's heels with a
+look of sulky fury on his face which was not good to see. The spoilt boy
+knew that, on the occasions when his uncle was out of temper like this,
+silence was his sole refuge; but, if he did not speak, he thought, and
+his thoughts were not lovely, to judge from the expression of his eyes.
+
+Letherby hurried away to put-to the horses, knowing that in this mood
+his master would not brook waiting; and, in half-an-hour from
+Invincible's winning of the Hardwicke Stakes, Mr. Orton and his party
+were spinning along towards the Oaklands Park hotel, where they were
+spending Ascot week.
+
+A very subdued party they were. Spite of his winnings, Godfrey was
+silent and sullen. Mrs. Orton's temper was not proof against the
+shattering of all her plans for next month; she knew that, if she spoke
+at all, it would be to upbraid her husband, so she held her tongue; and
+he was in a state of mute fury, less at the loss of his money than at
+his own error of judgment in such a matter.
+
+The very impression of his silent wife's face irritated him. "I told you
+so," seemed written on every feature.
+
+When they arrived at the hotel, he petulantly flung his reins to the
+groom, and went indoors by himself, "as sulky as a bear with a sore
+head," mentally observed the wife of his bosom.
+
+At dinner there was Colonel Wynch-Frere, who had come in a couple of
+hours later, having been invited by some other friends.
+
+He was sitting at a table some distance from the Ortons, but afterwards
+joined them in the drawing-room. The dinner had been good, and
+Frederick's temper was improving; he was not an ill-tempered man, as a
+rule, and he was now half-ashamed of his late annoyance. Mrs. Orton was
+less placable; she sat aloof, and secretly longed to be able to say her
+say.
+
+The colonel strolled up.
+
+"Where's the boy?" he asked.
+
+"In the stables, I suppose--where he always is," said the boy's aunt,
+snappishly.
+
+How she had wanted to go to Homburg! The Davidsons were going, and the
+Lequesnes, and Charley Canova; what parties they would have got up! And
+now----
+
+"Godfrey's not always in the stables, Ottilie," said Fred, seating
+himself on a sofa at her side. "He has only gone now with a message from
+me. He'll be back directly."
+
+Frederick Orton was a rather picturesque young man of about
+five-and-thirty. He was dark, with brown eyes, and a short, pointed,
+Vandyck beard and moustache. The moustache hid his weak mouth. He was
+slight and pale, and looked delicate, which was probably the result of
+late hours and pick-me-ups.
+
+His wife was handsome, and rather large, a year or two younger than he,
+and showing an inclination to stoutness. Her eyes and complexion were
+striking, her voice deep and rather loud--a fine contralto--and her
+disposition energetic.
+
+She was very handsomely dressed for the evening in a dark-green dress
+covered with green beetle's wings, which flashed as she turned. The
+colonel rather liked her, though he never dared say so to Lady Mabel.
+
+"How is your Lady Mabel?" she asked of him, just as this thought was
+crossing his mind.
+
+"Lady Mabel is, as usual, having a good many adventures," he said,
+taking a chair near. "She has been on a driving-tour with her brother--"
+
+"Mr. Cranmer? I know him slightly," said Frederick.
+
+"Yes; they are in Devonshire, at a little place called Edge Combe, near
+Stanton."
+
+"Dear me! Isn't that where all those old maids live--the Miss
+Willoughbys?" said Ottilie, turning to her husband.
+
+He made one of the many English inarticulate sounds representing "Yes."
+
+"I wonder if Lady Mabel has come across Godfrey's step-sister, Elaine
+Brabourne?" she went on, in her deep contralto accents.
+
+"Oh, yes, certainly; she mentions a Miss--is your nephew's name
+Brabourne? I never knew it. Then his father used to be colonel of my
+regiment."
+
+"That's it," said Frederick, calmly. "Yes, he has a step-sister, I'm
+sorry to say, who has been brought up by a set of puritanical old
+maids--old hags, my poor sister used to call them."
+
+"Lady Mabel is staying with the Miss Willoughbys," said the colonel,
+rather red in the face.
+
+There was an uncomfortable pause; then Mr. Orton laughed lazily.
+
+"Put my foot into it," he said. "I usually do. Very sorry, I'm sure. I
+don't know the good ladies myself, and I expect my poor sister made them
+all sit up; she was as wild a girl as ever I saw, and they used to take
+her and set her down for hours in a rotting old church which smelt of
+vaults, and where the damp used to roll down the walls in great drops.
+She said it gave her the horrors. But that's a good many years back now,
+and I daresay they have changed all that."
+
+"My wife says they are--well--very primitive," said the colonel. "But
+she speaks of Miss Brabourne as a most lovely girl, who only needs a
+little bringing out."
+
+"Ottilie, you must have that girl up to town," remarked Frederick.
+
+"Why?" said his wife, stifling a yawn.
+
+"Because I think Godfrey ought to know her."
+
+"Godfrey hates girls."
+
+"Yes, because he is always alone, and gets spoilt--he ought to know his
+sister."
+
+"She is coming to stay in town with Lady Mabel in the autumn, when we
+are settled," said the colonel; and at that moment some one came up and
+claimed his attention, so he bowed to Mrs. Orton and withdrew.
+
+Later that night, Frederick, coming up to bed, tapped at his wife's
+door, and, on receiving a muffled "Come in," entered with a face full of
+news.
+
+"I say, what do you think Wynch-Frere has been telling me? Poor old
+Allonby has got smashed up in this very place--I mean Edge Combe--and
+Elaine Brabourne found him lying by the roadside! So now we shall be
+able to hear whether she really is as good-looking as Lady Mabel wants
+to make out."
+
+A ray of interest warmed Ottilie's face, and encouraged him to proceed.
+He acquainted her with all the details of the accident which he had been
+able to glean from the colonel; while she sat brushing out her long
+thick dark hair, and listening. When he had apparently chatted her into
+a better humor, he sat down on the dressing-table, and, leaning forward,
+looked at her wistfully.
+
+"I say, old girl, were you fearfully set on Homburg?"
+
+Her face hardened.
+
+"You know I was," she said, shortly.
+
+"Well, look here--can you think of anything we could do with that
+blessed child? I can't bear to disappoint you. I think it would run to
+it if we could get rid of him. He means an extra room and some one to
+look after him, and even then he's eternally in the way. Could we get
+rid of him for a little while? If so, I'll take you."
+
+"You're very good, Fred," she said, with alacrity. "I--I'm sorry I was
+so cross. I'll think that over about Godfrey. It would be a hundred
+times nicer without him."
+
+"My word, though, won't there be a shindy?" said Frederick, laughing. "I
+wonder what the young cub will say! He isn't used to being left behind;
+you've spoilt him, Ottilie."
+
+"I indeed? I like that! Why, from the moment he was born you allowed him
+to do just whatever he chose, and taught him such language----"
+
+"All right--of course it was all my fault, as usual; but now, am I a
+good boy?"
+
+"Yes, you are."
+
+"Well, then, kiss me."
+
+So a peace was sealed for the time.
+
+On their return to London, on the Monday following, two letters awaited
+them. One was from Wynifred Allonby, explaining that her brother was
+ill, and that she had gone to nurse him, and asking that he might have
+time allowed him to finish his commission pictures; the other was from
+Miss Ellen Willoughby, begging that Godfrey might spend his holidays at
+Edge.
+
+"Just the very thing! I'll pack him off there the first minute I can!"
+cried Mrs. Orton, joyful and exultant.
+
+Frederick smiled prophetically.
+
+"He will probably try his sister's temper," he remarked, placidly, "and
+that in no common degree; but then, on the other hand, he will doubtless
+enlarge her vocabulary considerably, so he cannot be looked upon in the
+light of an unmixed evil."
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XVIII.
+
+    "'Go to the hills,' said one remit a while
+    This baneful diligence--at early morn
+    Court the fresh air, explore the heaths and woods;"
+    ... 'I infer that he was healed
+    By perseverance in the course prescribed'
+    "You do not err; the powers that had been lost,
+    By slow degrees were gradually regained
+    The fluttering nerves composed; the beating heart
+    In rest established; and the jarring thoughts
+    To Harmony restored."
+
+    _The Excursion_
+
+
+The fresh air had never seemed so gloriously sweet to Osmond Allonby
+before.
+
+He sat in a roomy, comfortable arm chair, a shawl round his big limbs,
+and the light warm breeze that puffed up the valley bringing a faint
+color to his white face.
+
+He had two companions, Wynifred and Mr. Fowler. The girl sat on the
+grass, busy over some little piece of needle-work; Henry Fowler lay
+beside her, throwing tiny pebbles idly at the terrier's nose. A great
+peace brooded over Poole Farm--a peace which seemed to communicate
+itself to the three as they sat enjoying their desultory conversation.
+
+"And so," said Mr. Fowler, "Mr. Dickens returned to his own place
+yesterday, rendered absolutely despairing by his interview with your
+brother."
+
+"I know; it was laughable," said Allonby, laughing gently. "He almost
+gave me the lie, so determined was he that I had a secret enemy
+somewhere; I was quite sorry I couldn't oblige him with one, his
+disappointment was so painful to witness."
+
+"The worst of these detective police," returned his friend, "is that
+they will always pin their faith on some one particular feature of the
+case; they become imbued with a theory of their own, and in consequence
+blind and deaf to all that does not bear upon it. Mr. Dickens had
+settled that this was a vendetta, and he would entertain no other
+hypothesis."
+
+"The notion is absurd in the highest degree," said Osmond, with
+animation. "No! It was some tramp, you may be sure, and he was
+frightened, and made off before securing his booty. I must have looked a
+very easy prey, for I was sitting, as I have told you before, with my
+head on my hands, feeling rather done up. I have a dim recollection of a
+violent blow; I suppose it stunned me at once. Not a soul had passed me,
+I am sure; whoever it was came up behind, along the Combe road."
+
+"It would not be at all difficult for anyone who knew the country to
+conceal himself," said Mr. Fowler, meditatively, "but yet--the police
+watched well. Every neighboring village was searched, and all along the
+coast ... but these local police are easily deceived, you know. I wish I
+had been at home at the time."
+
+"I wish you had," said Wynifred, impulsively; and then half repented her
+impulse, for she received such a very plain look of thanks and pleasure
+from Mr. Fowler's kind eyes.
+
+From the first moment, he had been deeply struck with Miss Allonby; her
+character was as new to him as it was to Claud Cranmer, but he found her
+perfectly charming. Presents of fresh trout, of large strawberries,
+plump chickens, and invalid jellies daily arrived from the Lower House;
+and most afternoons the master would follow his gifts, and walk in,
+arrayed in his rough country clothes, very likely with a reminiscence of
+bricks or mortar somewhere on his coat sleeve, for he was building a
+house in the valley for some relations of his, and, as he was his own
+architect, the work necessitated a good deal of personal attention.
+
+Wynifred had been down to see the house in question, and then to tea at
+Edge Willoughby, and had been escorted back to Poole by Mr. Fowler in
+the starlight; and a most interesting walk it had been, for he knew
+every constellation in the heavens, and exactly where to look for each
+at any season of the year.
+
+A thorough liking for him had sprung up in her heart. The simplicity of
+his courteous manner was a rare charm; he was singularly unlike the
+London men of her acquaintance, with a modesty which was perhaps the
+most remarkable of his attributes.
+
+The little silence which followed her remark was broken by Osmond.
+
+"When is Cranmer coming down again?" he said.
+
+"Next week, I hope; sooner if he can. I had a letter from him this
+morning; he asked to be most particularly remembered to you and Miss
+Allonby, and inquired much after your health," said Mr. Fowler.
+
+"I am glad he was not down last week; the weather was so bad, he would
+not have known what to do," said Wyn.
+
+In fact, Claud had been reluctantly torn from Edge Combe by his despotic
+sister, who, when she got to London, found that to choose a house
+without his assistance was quite an impossibility. In such a matter, the
+colonel's opinion was never even asked; neither did he resent the
+omission in the least. If Mabel liked the house, he liked it too, and
+Claud would see after the stabling.
+
+So Claud went, and tramped Belgravia and even Kensington with
+submission; and, when at last a selection was made, found himself doomed
+to go down to Hunstanton with his tyrant and fetch up the children, the
+nurses, and the little governess for a week's shopping, previous to
+their being all swept off to Yorkshire, to be out of the way during the
+autumn at the castle of the earl, their grandpapa, whilst their mother
+went to make herself agreeable to her husband's constituents; in which
+last respect she certainly did her duty.
+
+In Mr. Cranmer's absence, the wounded man had grown stronger daily; had
+sat at his bedroom window, had made the circuit of his chamber, and now
+was promoted to sit in the garden; and Dr. Forbes exulted in the
+rapidity of his convalescence.
+
+"You see, there's everything in his favor," he said, complacently. "A
+fine constitution, a fine time of year--youth, and the best climate in
+England."
+
+It was highly satisfactory that he should make such excellent use of his
+advantages.
+
+"I feel to-day as if I could walk a mile," he said, with pride,
+stretching his long legs and arms and tossing his head.
+
+"I am glad you are feeling so well. You are going to have a visitor this
+afternoon--Miss Brabourne, who found you lying by the roadside; she is
+so eager to see you."
+
+Osmond blushed--actually blushed with pleasure. He was not very strong
+yet, and his heart beat stormily at thought of the coming meeting. All
+through his delirium a certain face had haunted him--a girl's face,
+which he always seemed to see when he closed his eyes. With returning
+consciousness the vision fled--he could not recall the features, but he
+had a feeling that they were the features of Elsa Brabourne, and that,
+if he saw her again, he should know her.
+
+"I'll go down as far as the stile, and see if I can see her," said Wyn;
+and, tossing her work to the ground, she rose and went wandering off
+among the flower-beds, singing to herself, and picking a rosebud here
+and there.
+
+"I envy you your sister, Mr. Allonby," said Henry Fowler.
+
+"Who? Wyn?" asked Osmond. "Yes she is a very good sort; but you should
+see Hilda and Jacqueline; they are both uncommonly pretty girls, though
+I say it."
+
+"I think Miss Allonby pretty."
+
+"Wyn? Oh, no, she isn't," was the fraternal criticism. "I've seen her
+look well, but you can't call her pretty; but I suppose she is
+attractive--some men seem to find her so."
+
+"Ah!" said Mr. Fowler.
+
+"But she is not at all impressionable," said Wyn's brother.
+
+Meanwhile Wyn was walking down the Waste in happy unconsciousness of
+being the subject of discussion, and presently was seen to wave her hand
+and begin to run forward. She and Elsa met in the middle of the Waste,
+and exchanged greetings. Jane Gollop was far behind--she was growing
+used to this now, and took it as a matter of course that the young feet
+which for years had dragged listlessly at her side should now, for very
+gaiety and youth, outstrip her.
+
+Now that Elsa's face wore that sparkling look of animation, now that her
+luxuriant tresses were piled classically on the crown of her beautiful
+head, the barbarity of her costume really sank into insignificance,
+triumphed over by sheer force of her fresh loveliness. Her glow of color
+made the pale Wynifred look paler, the girls were a great contrast.
+
+"How is Mr. Allonby? Is he going on well?" panted Elsa, before she had
+recovered her breath.
+
+"Capitally, thank you. Dr. Forbes says he never knew such a quick
+convalescence."
+
+"Oh, how glad I am! Is he ... do you think ... it is so very fine
+to-day ... is Mr. Allonby in the garden?"
+
+The shyness and confusion were very pretty, thought Wyn.
+
+"Yes," she said, delighted to be able to call the warm clear color into
+the speaking face. "He is sitting in the garden, and is so impatient to
+see you. Come this way."
+
+No need to speak twice. Elsa's feet seemed scarcely to touch the ground
+in their transit across the space which intervened between her and the
+hero of her dreams.
+
+Osmond would insist on rising from his chair to greet her; and his tall
+form looked taller than ever now that he was so thin.
+
+Elsa drew near, hardly knowing where she was or what she was
+doing--little recking that he was to the full as excited as she.
+
+They met; their hands touched; the girl could hardly see clearly through
+the mist of tears in her large speaking eyes. He looked straight at her,
+saw the crystal mist, saw one irrepressible drop over-brim the lid, and
+rest on the delicate cheek. A storm of feeling overcame him; he grew
+quite white.
+
+It was the face of the mystic queen in his visions of Avilion--it was
+beauty of the type he most passionately admired; and beauty which was
+stirred to its depths by pity and sympathy for him.
+
+He could say nothing articulate, neither could she. Their greeting was
+chiefly that of eyes, and of warmly grasping hands, for she had
+stretched both to him, and he had seized them.
+
+How long did it last? They did not know. To Osmond it seemed, like the
+dreams of his fever, to last for hours, and yet be gone like a flash.
+He only knew that presently he found himself seated again in his chair,
+his fingers released from the warm touch of hers; that she was sitting
+by him on Wynifred's vacated seat; that the skies had not fallen, nor
+the shadows on the grass lengthened perceptibly; and that neither Wyn
+nor Mr. Fowler expressed any surprise in their countenances, as if
+anything unusual had transpired.
+
+Apparently he had not openly made a fool of himself. He heaved a sigh of
+relief, and lay back among his cushions. There sat the lady of his
+dreams, no longer a phantom, a real girl of flesh and blood, with large
+eyes of morning grey fixed on him.
+
+He fancied how those calm eyes, like the misty dawn of a glorious day,
+would gradually warm and deepen into the torrid splendor of noon; when
+what was now only sympathetic interest should have strengthened into
+passionate love, when his voice, his touch should alone have power
+to----
+
+Alas! as usual, he was building an airy cloud-palace for his thoughts to
+live in; and here was the real earth, and here was himself, a poor,
+struggling young artist, a competitor in one of London's fiercest and
+most crowded fields of competition, and with three unmarried sisters to
+think of.
+
+And there was she--could he dream of it for her? The future of a poor
+man's wife. _Wife!_ The exquisite delight of that word, by force of
+contrast, calmed this enthusiast utterly. No. To him nothing nearer than
+a star, an ideal. His Beatrice, only to be longed for, never attained.
+
+And all this he had time to think of, while Wyn was cheerfully telling
+Elsa that he had that day eaten a piece of lamb, and "quite a great
+deal" of milky pudding for his dinner, which hopeful bulletin of his
+appetite was received with marked interest both by Mr. Fowler and his
+god-daughter.
+
+And then Elaine turned her bashful eyes on him, and he heard her voice
+saying,
+
+"I am so glad you are getting well so fast. I was very unhappy when they
+thought you would not live."
+
+"Were you?" he said, hoping his voice did not sound as queer to the
+others as it did to himself. "It was very philanthropical of you. That
+gift of pity is one of woman's most gracious attributes."
+
+Elsa was developing very fast, but she was not yet equal to replying to
+this speech.
+
+"I think I have been altogether far more fortunate than I deserve," went
+on Osmond. "Everyone in this fairy valley had vied in their efforts to
+be kind to me. Your good aunts, Mr. Fowler here, Mr. Cranmer and Lady
+Mabel, not to mention Dr. Forbes, Mrs. Battishill, and Mrs. Clapp."
+
+Elsa was still tongue-tied; and, oh! it was hard, when she had so much
+to say to him. How kindly he spoke! How handsome he looked when he
+smiled! If only she knew what to say!
+
+At this embarrassing juncture, Jane scrambled over the stile, grasping a
+covered basket. Like lightning the girl leaped up, ran to her nurse,
+and, taking her burden, carried it back to the young man's side.
+
+"I brought these for you," she faltered. "The strawberries are over, but
+here are white currants and raspberries ... raspberries are very good
+with cream. Do you like them?"
+
+"Like them? I should think so! My appetite is quite tremendous, as Wyn
+told you. Will you carry back my sincere thanks to Miss Willoughby for
+her kind thought?"
+
+She blushed, and then smiled, rising her face to his.
+
+"It was my thought," she said, timidly; "the aunts said they were not
+good enough to bring, and I went to Lower House for the currants," she
+concluded, nodding mischeviously to her godfather.
+
+"Like your impudence!" he answered, pretending to shake a fist at her.
+"Now, Miss Allonby, I must be going; won't you show me the picture you
+are doing of Saul Parker?"
+
+"Oh, yes, I should like to. I hope you will think it a good likeness,"
+answered Wyn, eagerly.
+
+She rose, and walked slowly into the house with Mr. Fowler, leaving the
+two seated together on the lawn, conscious of nothing in all the world
+but each other's presence.
+
+There was a little pause; then Elaine gathered courage. It was easier
+for them to talk with no listeners.
+
+"I saw you before you were hurt," she announced, blushing.
+
+"You saw me?" cried Osmond, devoured with interest. "Where? I never saw
+you."
+
+"No; I was behind your back. I was coming up to the farm; you were
+sitting at your easel. Your head was resting on your hands. I wanted to
+go and ask you if you were ill; but Jane hurried me on."
+
+"And I never knew," said Osmond, in a slow, absorbed way.
+
+"And so I asked Jane to go back round by the road because--because I
+wanted to see your face; and when we got there you were lying on the
+grass."
+
+Here the lip quivered. Allonby threw himself forward in his chair, his
+chin on his elbow.
+
+"I saw your face," he said, earnestly. "Tell me, did you not--were you
+not kneeling by me, and--and _weeping_?"
+
+The girl nodded, hardly able to speak.
+
+"You opened your eyes," she said, very low, after a pause, "and looked
+at me for a moment; but not as if you knew me."
+
+"But I saw you. Do you know"--sinking his voice--"that your face was
+with me all through my illness--your face, as I saw it to-day, with
+tears on your eyelashes?... I knew even your voice, when I have heard
+it in the garden, and I have been lying in bed. I knew when you laughed
+and when you spoke ... and I counted the hours till I should be well
+enough to see you and thank you. You'll let me thank you, won't you?"
+
+He took her hand again. The child--for she was no more--could not speak.
+It seemed as if light were breaking so swiftly in upon her soul that the
+glare dazzled her. She was helpless--almost frightened. Osmond saw that
+he must be careful not to startle or vex her. With a great effort he
+curbed his own excitement, and took a lighter tone.
+
+"Think what a benefactor in disguise my unknown assailant has been!" he
+cried brightly. "What have I lost? Nothing--absolutely nothing but a
+pudding-basin; what have I gained?" He made an eloquent sweep of the
+hand. "Everything! In fact, I can hardly realise at present what my gain
+is. To be ill--to be tenderly nursed--to have enquiries made all day by
+kind friends--to have my name in all the local papers--to be interviewed
+at least once a day by gentlemen of the press. I assure you that I
+never before was the centre of attraction; I hope it will last. That
+day's sketching in the lane may turn out to be the best stroke of
+business I ever did."
+
+"But," cried Elsa, remonstrating, "you don't count all the pain you had
+to bear?"
+
+"Pain!" he said, almost incoherently. "Did I? Have I borne pain? Oh, it
+counts for nothing, for I have forgotten all about it."
+
+"Really and truly? Have you forgotten it?"
+
+"Really and truly, just now. I may remember it presently, when I am
+crawling upstairs to bed to-night, with my arm round Joe Battishill's
+neck; but just now it is clean gone, and every day I shall grow
+stronger, you know."
+
+She did not answer. She saw fate, in the shape of Jane Gollop, bearing
+down upon her from the open farm-house door.
+
+"Miss Elaine, my dear, you wasn't to stay but a very little while
+to-day; and, if we don't start back, you won't be in time to go to the
+station with your Aunt Charlotte to meet your brother, you know."
+
+"To meet your brother!" echoed Osmond.
+
+"Yes." She turned to him. "He is my step-brother; I have never seen him
+since he was a baby."
+
+"Really? That sounds odd; but you are orphans; I suppose he is being
+brought up by other relations. I think it was cruel to separate you. How
+old is he?"
+
+"Just fourteen. I am glad he is coming at last."
+
+"I suppose so; and you will be so happy together that you will forget to
+come up to Poole and see the poor sick man?"
+
+"You _know_ I shall not. I shall bring Godfrey."
+
+"Yes, do. Please come soon. But I ought not to be so grasping, and I
+have never thanked you properly for coming to-day. What an unmannerly
+brute I am. Please forgive me! Don't punish me by staying away, will
+you?"
+
+She drew near, and spoke low, that Jane might not hear.
+
+"I shall come whenever they let me," she said, with vehemence; "whenever
+I don't come, you will know it is because I was forbidden. If they would
+allow it, I'd come _every single day_."
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XIX.
+
+                          I find you passing gentle.
+    'Twas told me you were rough, and coy, and sullen,
+    And now I find report a very liar;
+    For thou art pleasant, gamesome, passing courteous,
+    But slow in speech, yet sweet as spring time flowers:
+    Thou canst not frown, thou canst not look askance,
+    Nor bite the lip, as angry wenches will.
+
+    _Taming of the Shrew._
+
+
+It was quite an unusual event for Miss Charlotte Willoughby to be
+standing on the platform watching the arrival of the London train. Her
+preparation for the expedition had been made in quite a flutter of
+expectation. She was resolved to do her duty thoroughly by Godfrey
+Brabourne, much as she had disliked his mother. She had hopes that a
+stay in a household of such strict propriety, where peace, order, and
+regularity reigned supreme, might perchance work an improvement in the
+boy, do something to eradicate the pernicious influence of early
+training, and cause him, in after life, to own with a burst of emotion
+that he dated the turning-point in his career from the moment when his
+foot first trod the threshold of Edge Willoughby. This was a
+consummation so devoutly to be wished, as to go far towards reconciling
+the good lady to the presence of a boy in the virgin seclusion of the
+house. Elsa, at her side, was stirred to the deepest depths of her
+excitable temperament, each faculty poised, each nerve a-quiver as she
+hung bashfully back behind her aunt.
+
+There was a long wild howl, a dog's howl, followed by a series of sharp
+yelps and a sound of scuffling; a crowd collected round the dog-box. A
+small boy in an Eton suit dashed down the platform, parted the
+spectators right and left, and revealed to view the panic-stricken
+guard, with a bull-dog hanging to his trousers.
+
+"Ven! Come off, you confounded brute! How dare you!" cried the little
+boy in shrill tones, as he seized the dog by the collar, and dragged him
+off. "Didn't I tell you, you idiot," he went on to the guard, "not to
+touch him till I came! What fools people are, always meddling with what
+ain't their concern. Why couldn't you let my dog alone, eh? I don't pity
+you, blessed if I do," concluded he in an off-hand manner, cuffing his
+dog heartily, and shaking him at the same time. "I'll teach you manners,
+you scoundrel," he said, furiously; "and now, what am I to be let in for
+over this job? Has he drawn blood?"
+
+Elsa and her aunt were so absorbed, as was everyone else, in watching
+this episode, as to temporarily forget their errand at the station; but
+now the girl began to peer among the little crowd of bystanders, to see
+if she could spy anybody who looked like Godfrey.
+
+"Auntie," she whispered, "hasn't Godfrey come?"
+
+"I--am not sure."
+
+A cold fear, a presentiment, was stealing over Miss Charlotte's mind.
+Something in the voice, the air, the face of the dreadful boy with the
+bull-dog, reminded her uncomfortably of her deceased brother-in-law,
+Valentine Brabourne. She wavered a little, while vehement and angry
+recriminations went on between him and the railway-officials, noticed
+with a shudder how he felt in his trousers' pockets and pulled out loose
+gold, and was still in a state of miserable uncertainty when he turned
+round, and demanded, in high, shrill tones:
+
+"Isn't there anybody here to meet me from Edge Willoughby?"
+
+Both aunt and niece started, and gasped. Then Miss Charlotte went
+bravely forward.
+
+"Are you Godfrey Brabourne?" she asked, with shaking voice, more than
+half-ashamed to have to lay claim to such a boy before a little
+concourse of spectators who all knew her by sight. The guard lifted his
+cap, surprised, and half-apologetic.
+
+"Pardon, mum," he grumbled, "but I do say as a young gentleman didn't
+oughter travel with that dog unmuzzled. He didn't ought to do it; for
+you never know where the beast'll take a fancy to bite, and a man with a
+family's got hydrophobia to consider."
+
+"Hydrophobia! Hydro-fiddlestick!" cried Godfrey, making a grimace. "He
+ain't even broken the skin, and I've given you a couple of sovs.--a
+deuced lot more than those bags of yours ever cost." This speech
+elicited a laugh all round, and seemed to congeal Miss Charlotte's blood
+in her veins. "So now you just go round the corner and treat your
+friends. Why, if you had any sense, you wouldn't mind being bitten every
+day for a week at that price. How d'ye do, Miss Willoughby? My aunt
+Ottilie sent her kind regards, or something."
+
+"Will you--come this way?" said Miss Charlotte, desperately, possessed
+only by the idea of hastening from this scene of public disgrace. "Come,
+my dear, come! If the guard is satisfied, let the matter rest. I am sure
+it is very imprudent to travel with so savage a dog unmuzzled. Dear,
+dear! what are you going to do with him?"
+
+"Do with him? Nothing. He's all right; he's not mad. That ass must needs
+go dragging him out of the dog-box or something, that's all. He wouldn't
+hurt a fly."
+
+Miss Charlotte paused in her headlong flight from the station.
+
+"Godfrey, I regret--I deeply regret it, but I can on no account allow
+that beast to be taken up to the house. I cannot permit it--he will be
+biting everybody."
+
+"Oh, he's all right," was the cool retort. "Chain him up in the stables,
+if you're funky. Leave him alone. He'll follow the trap right enough if
+I'm in it. Now then, where are your cattle?"
+
+Miss Charlotte unconsciously answered this, to her, incomprehensible
+question by laying her lean hand, which trembled somewhat, on the handle
+of the roomy, well-cushioned wagonette which the ladies of Edge found
+quite good enough to convey them along the country lanes to shop in
+Philmouth, or call on a friend. The plump, lazy horse stood swishing his
+tail in the sunshine, and Acland, the deliberate, bandy-legged coachman,
+was in the act of placing a smart little portmanteau on the box.
+
+"Now then--room for that inside--just put that portmanteau inside, will
+you? I'm going to drive," announced Master Godfrey; and, as he spoke, he
+turned suddenly, and for the first time caught sight of Elsa.
+
+"Godfrey," said Miss Charlotte, "this is your sister Elaine."
+
+The boy stared a moment. Elaine's face was crimson--tears stood in her
+eyes; her appearance was altogether as eccentric as it well could be,
+for she wore the Sunday dress and hat to do him honor. To him, used as
+he was to slim girls in tailor-made gowns, with horsy little collars and
+diamond pins, perfectly-arranged hair, and gloves and shoes leaving
+nothing to be desired, the effect was simply unutterably comic. He
+surveyed his half-sister from head to foot, and burst into a peal of
+laughter. It was all too funny. His aunt was funny, the horse and trap
+funnier still; but this Elaine was funniest of all.
+
+"What a guy!" he said to himself, a sudden feeling of wrathful disgust
+taking the place of his mirth, as he angrily reflected that this strange
+object bore the name of Brabourne. Aloud he said:
+
+"I beg your pardon for laughing, but you have got such a rum hat on; I
+suppose anything does for these lanes." Then before anyone could dare to
+remonstrate, he was up on the box with the reins in his hand. "Now then,
+Johnnie," said he to the outraged Acland, "up with you. I'm going to
+drive this thing--is it a calf or a mule? Or is it a cross between an
+elephant and a pig? I suppose you bring it down for the luggage. What
+sort of a show have you got in your stables, eh?"
+
+To this ribald questioning, Acland, white with fury, made answer that
+the Misses Willoughbys had only one horse at present; at which the boy
+laughed loudly, and confided to him his opinion that "their friends must
+be an uncommon queer lot, for them to dare to show with such a
+turn-out."
+
+This dust and ashes Acland had to swallow, watching meanwhile the stout
+horse, Taffy, goaded up the hills with a speed that threatened apoplexy,
+and dashing down them with a rattle which seemed to more than hint at
+broken springs.
+
+And Elaine and her aunt sat inside, with Godfrey's portmanteau for
+company, and said never a word. Low as had been Miss Willoughby's
+expectations, little as she had been prepared to love the outcome of the
+Orton training, certainly this boy exceeded her severest thought; he
+out-heroded Herod.
+
+Elsa was simply choked; she could not say one word. She scrambled out of
+the wagonette at the door with a face from which the eagerness of hope
+had gone, to be replaced by a burning, baleful rage. She was furious;
+her self-love had been cruelly wounded, and hers was not a nature to
+forget. Of course she said nothing to her aunts. They had never
+encouraged her to divulge her feelings to them, and she never did. She
+rushed away to her old nursery, to stamp and gesticulate in a wild
+frenzy of anger and hurt feeling.
+
+Meanwhile Godfrey walked in, scowling. He had expected dulness, but
+nothing so terrible as this promised to be. Sulkily he ordered Venom,
+the bull-dog, to lie down in the hall, and stumbled into the
+drawing-room to shake hands, with ill-suppressed contempt, with all his
+step-aunts, who sat around in silent condemnation.
+
+Miss Ellen spoke first, thinking in her kindness to set the shy boy at
+ease.
+
+"You will be glad of some tea after your long journey; you must be
+thirsty."
+
+"Yes, I am thirsty; but I'm not very keen on tea, thanks. I'd sooner
+have a B and S, if you have such a thing; or a lemon squash."
+
+There was a dead silence.
+
+"Oh, don't you mind if you haven't got it," he said, easily; "a glass of
+beer would do."
+
+After a moment's hesitation Miss Ellen rang the bell, and ordered "a
+glass of ale," and then Miss Charlotte found her voice, and told their
+guest to go and chain up his dog in the stable.
+
+"Oh, all right! I'll go and cheek the old Johnnie with the stiff
+collar," he said; and so sauntered out, leaving the ladies gazing
+helplessly each at the other.
+
+All tea-time the visitor was considerably subdued, perhaps by the close
+proximity and severe expression of the sisterhood; but after tea Miss
+Charlotte told Elsa to put on her hat and take her brother round the
+garden. Once out of sight, Master Godfrey's tongue was loosed.
+
+"Whew! What a set of old cats!" he cried. "Have you had to live with
+them all your life? I'm sure I'm sorry for you, poor beggar."
+
+Elsa's smouldering resentment was very near ablaze.
+
+"What's the matter with my aunts?" she asked, defiantly.
+
+"What's the matter with your aunts? By Jove! that's good. What's the
+matter with _you_, that you can't see it? Such a set of old cautions!"
+he burst into loud laughter. "But you've lived with them till you're
+almost as bad! I never saw such a figure of fun! I say, what would you
+take to walk down Piccadilly in that get-up? I'm hanged if I'd walk with
+you, though?"
+
+"How dare you?" Elsa's cheeks and eyes flamed, she shook with passion.
+"How dare you speak to me like that? I hate you," she cried, "you rude,
+detestable child. I wish I had never seen you! Why do you come here? And
+I--I--I--was looking forward so to having you--I was! I was! I wish you
+had never been born--there!"
+
+"If she isn't snivelling, I declare! Just because I don't admire her
+bed-gown! Pretty little dear, then, didn't it like to be told that it
+was unbecomingly dressed? There, there, it should wear its things
+hind-part-before, if it liked, and carry a tallow candle on the tip of
+its nose, or any other little fancy it may have. As to asking me why I
+came here," he went on, with a sudden vicious change of tone, "I can
+tell you I only came because I was sent, and not because I wanted to.
+Uncle Fred and Aunt Ottilie are off to Homburg, and want to be rid of
+me, so they shipped me off here; and Uncle Fred told an awful whopper,
+for he said it was no end of a jolly place, and I could ride and drive.
+Ride what? A bantam cock? Drive what? A fantail pigeon, for that's all
+the live stock I can see on the estate, unless you count the barrel on
+four legs that brought us from the station, and which the old boy calls
+a horse; and now where's the tennis-ground?"
+
+"There isn't one."
+
+"Not a tennis-ground? Well, this is pleasant, certainly. Brisk up,
+whiney-piney, and tell me where's the nearest place I can get any
+tennis."
+
+"Now look here," said the girl, in a voice thick with emotion, "if you
+think you are going to speak to me like this, I can tell you you are
+dreadfully mistaken. How dare you!--how _dare_ you say such things! But
+I know. It is because the aunts all speak to me as if I were four years
+old, and order me about. You think you can do it too. But you shan't. I
+am taller and older than you. I will knock you down if you tease me
+again--do you hear? I will knock you down, I tell you, you impudent
+child!"
+
+Godfrey shut his left eye, poked his tongue out of the right-hand corner
+of his mouth, and leered at his sister.
+
+"You only try, my girl," he said, "you only try, and I'll make it hot
+for you. You'll find out you had better be civil to me, I can tell you,
+or I'll make you wish you were dead; so now."
+
+"I shall tell my aunts----!"
+
+"All right! You play the tell-tale, and you see what you'll get. I twig
+what you want--someone to lick you into shape--you've never had a
+brother. Well, now I've come, I'm going to spend my time in making you
+behave yourself and look like a Christian."
+
+She stamped her foot at him; she could hardly speak for wrath.
+
+"Do you know how old I am?"
+
+"No, and don't want to; I only know you're the biggest ass a man ever
+had for a sister, and that if I can't improve you a little, I won't let
+Aunt Ottilie have you up to town--for I wouldn't be seen with you; so
+now you know my opinion."
+
+"And you shall know mine. I think you the most cowardly, rude,
+detestable boy I ever met. I hate and despise you. I only hope you will
+be punished well one day for your cruelty to me."
+
+"Well, you are a duffer! Crying if anyone says a word to you! I say,
+who's the old boy coming up the path, getting over the stile at the end
+of the terrace?"
+
+The girl glanced up and recognised Mr. Fowler with a sense of passionate
+relief. He was the only person to whom she dared show her moods; in a
+moment she was sobbing in his arms.
+
+"Why, Elsie, what's this?" asked the quiet voice, as he stroked back her
+tumbled hair with caressing hand. "Look up, child. Is that Godfrey
+yonder?"
+
+"Oh, yes--yes--yes! And I hate him!... I ... hate him! I wish he had
+never come here to make me so unhappy! He is a bad boy! I wish I had
+never seen him!"
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XX.
+
+    Here all the summer could I stay,
+      For there's a Bishop's Teign
+      And King's Teign
+    And Coomb at the clear Teign's head,
+      Where, close by the stream,
+      You may have your cream,
+    All spread upon barley bread.
+      Then who would go
+      Into dark Soho
+    And chatter with dank-haired critics
+      When he can stay
+      For the new-mown hay
+    And startle the dappled crickets?
+
+    KEATS.
+
+
+A great bustle was rife in the little parlor of the "Fountain Head." A
+hamper was being packed, rugs strapped together, preparations in general
+being made. The excitement seemed to communicate itself to the village
+in some mysterious way; and small wonder. It was rarely that so many
+visitors from London haunted the Combe all at once; rarer still that so
+mysterious a celebrity attached to one of them; rarest of all that the
+Misses Willoughby should be giving a picnic-party.
+
+Yet so it was; and the weather, which, under the iron rule of St.
+Swithun, had "gone to pieces," as Osmond said, for the past three weeks,
+had now revived anew, full of heat and beauty and sunshine.
+
+In the doorway of the inn stood Osmond himself, and a tall, fine-looking
+girl with a brilliant complexion and large hazel eyes.
+
+"What a day for a pic-nic!" she cried, jovially. "And this place--I must
+freely admit that Wyn, prone as she is to rhapsody, has _not_ overdone
+it in describing the Combe. Oh, here comes Mr. Haldane, just in time. I
+hope you know we were on the point of starting without you," said she,
+with an attempt at severity, as a young man came slowly along the road
+leading from the village.
+
+"I should soon have caught you up," he said peacefully, raising his hat
+with a smile. "How are you this morning, Mr. Allonby? Still
+convalescent?"
+
+"I don't think the present participle is any longer applicable. I am
+convalesced--completely convalesced, and, it seems to me all the better
+for my accident."
+
+"So you are not cursing me for having recommended the Combe as a
+hunting-ground?"
+
+"Not in the least, I assure you."
+
+"Did you ever hear, Mr. Haldane," cried the girl, with a burst of
+laughter, "that the detective tried to assign poor old Osmond's blow on
+the head to your machinations?"
+
+"No! Really! You flatter me; what made him do that?" asked he, with
+imperturbable and smiling composure.
+
+"He thought you had some _arriere pensee_ in sending Osmond down here to
+paint."
+
+"Well, so I had."
+
+"You had?"
+
+"Of course. I knew he'd like the place so much that he'd want to spend
+all the summer here; and then I thought you and your sisters would come
+down; and then I thought I'd come down; and I have, you see."
+
+Jacqueline laughed merrily.
+
+"We're going to have such a good time to-day," she cried, "and, please,
+listen to me. You and Wyn are _not_ to talk shop. The first of you that
+mentions the R. A. Schools, or the gold medal pictures, or the winter
+exhibition, shall be sent to Coventry at once! Remember! You are under
+orders."
+
+"Well, I don't think I'm likely to forget it, as long as you are here to
+remind me, Miss Jacqueline. By-the-by, aren't you getting bored down
+here? Surely the Combe falls a trifle flat after the gaieties of Cowes?"
+
+"We are getting on pretty well so far, thank you; a school-treat the day
+after we arrived, an expedition to the quarries yesterday, a pic-nic
+to-day! I am managing to exist, but I can't think what we shall do
+to-morrow. The blackberries are not yet ripe, there are no ruins to
+explore, and not another school-feast for miles; there will be nothing
+for it but to go out in a boat and get drowned."
+
+"All right; I'll come too."
+
+"You can go out in a boat and get drowned to-day, if you like,"
+suggested Osmond. "Boats are in the programme."
+
+"So they are! I had forgotten. How late this Mr. Fowler is! Don't you
+think we had better go on, Osmond, and leave you and Wyn to follow?"
+
+"Certainly, if you like. Who is packing?"
+
+"_Need_ you ask? Hilda, of course. She always does everything she
+should. Wyn! Wyn! Are you ready?"
+
+"Coming!"
+
+Wyn emerged from the dark entry, and shook hands with Mr. Haldane.
+
+"I will send Hilda to you," she said, vanishing, and in a minute or two
+there appeared on the scene another tall girl, closely resembling
+Jacqueline in height and general appearance, and dressed exactly like
+her, down to the minutest detail. In fact the family likeness in all
+four Allonbys was strong, something distinctive in the curve of the
+chin, the setting on of the head, the steady glance of the eye, which
+made them all noticeable, whether handsome or not. They were, all four,
+people who, having once been seen, were not likely to be forgotten. Of
+his two younger sisters Osmond was justly proud. Their height, grace,
+and slenderness were striking, and the want of likeness in their
+dispositions completed the charm, by the rare virtue of being
+unexpected.
+
+Hilda was as reserved as Jacqueline was communicative, as statuesque as
+she was animated, as diligent and capable as she was lavish and
+reckless. The difference between them was this morning, however, much
+less obvious than the likeness, for Hilda was full of spirits, the whole
+of her sweet face irradiated with pleasure.
+
+They set off with young Haldane, chattering eagerly, the sound of their
+light laughter tossed behind them on the breeze as they climbed the
+steep grassy hillside to Edge, to join the rest of the party.
+
+They were hardly out of sight when Mr. Fowler and his dog-cart appeared
+down the road, the black horse's glossy flanks and polished harness
+reflecting the brightness of the sun.
+
+"Good morning," cried Osmond, blithely; "what a fresh lovely morning! We
+are ready and waiting for you."
+
+"We? Then I am to have the pleasure of driving Miss Allonby! That's all
+right. Cranmer came down yesterday evening, looking rather jaded; he
+seemed very glad to get here. He has gone on foot to join the others,"
+said Mr. Fowler, alighting and entering the dark cool passage of the
+inn.
+
+"Are you there Miss Allonby?"
+
+"Yes, here I am. Good morning, Mr. Fowler. Come and help me with this
+strap."
+
+He entered, and took her hand.
+
+"So you are all established here! What did Mrs. Battishill say to your
+desertion?"
+
+"She was very unhappy, but I could not help it. She totally declined to
+accept a penny for rent, and I wanted to have Hilda and Jac down, so I
+was obliged to move. I could not quarter my entire family upon her, it
+was too barefaced. There, how neatly you fastened that buckle! Now
+everything is ready. I'll call Tom to carry the hamper to the carriage."
+
+"You'll do no such thing; I shall take it myself. We are favored in our
+weather, are we not?"
+
+"That we are. In fact, everything is favorable to-day. My mental
+barometer is up at 'set-fair.' I have a mind to tell you why, and
+receive your congratulations all to myself. I heard from Barclay's
+to-day that my novel is to be put into a second edition. What do you
+think of that?"
+
+Mr. Fowler thought the occasion quite important enough to justify a
+second energetic grasping of Miss Allonby's little slim hand in his
+vigorous square palm; and the dialogue might have been for some time
+prolonged, had not Osmond cried out, from his position at the horse's
+head,
+
+"Now then, you two!"
+
+In a few minutes Wyn was enthroned beside Mr. Fowler in the high
+dog-cart, her brother had swung himself up behind with the hamper, and
+the swift Black Prince was off, delighted to be tearing along in the
+sunshine.
+
+"I am going to enjoy myself to-day, and forget all vexations," said
+Henry Fowler, in his quiet voice.
+
+"Vexations? Are you vexed? What is it?" asked Wyn, anxiously.
+
+"I am--a good deal vexed--about my Elsie," he answered, with a sigh.
+"Poor little lass! I think she is deeply to be pitied."
+
+"So do I," said Wyn, promptly; and Osmond cut in from behind.
+
+"I should like to lick that cheeky little beast of a boy."
+
+"There's the rub--you can't lick the child, he's too delicate," said
+Henry, with a sigh. "I took him by the shoulder and shook him the other
+day, and he turned as white as a sheet and almost fainted. He is a mass
+of nerves, and has no constitution; careful rearing might have done
+something for him, but he is accustomed to sit up all night, lie in bed
+all day, drink spirits, and smoke cigars--a poor little shrimp like
+that! It is a terrible trial to Elsie; one that I'm afraid she's not
+equal to," he concluded, slowly, his eyes rivetted on the lash of his
+whip, with which he was flicking the flies from Black Prince's pretty
+pricked-up ears.
+
+"She ought never to be called upon to endure it--they ought to send the
+little imp away," said Osmond, indignantly.
+
+"He does not show himself in his true colors before the Miss
+Willoughbys--this is where I can't forgive him," returned Mr. Fowler,
+sternly. "The child is a habitual liar--you never know for a moment
+whether he is telling the truth or not. His dog worried two of my sheep
+yesterday; the shepherd absolutely saw the brute in the field, and
+he--Godfrey--coolly told me that Ven had been chained in the yard all
+that morning. It was then," he added, with a half-smile, "that I shook
+him; I would have liked to lay my stick about him, but one can't touch
+such a little frail thing; and his language--ugh! That Elsa should ever
+hear such words makes one grind one's teeth. I never saw such a young
+child so completely vitiated."
+
+"What a misfortune!" said Wyn.
+
+"You are right; it is a real misfortune. I am very doubtful as to what
+steps I ought to take in the matter. Did you hear of his setting his
+bull-dog at Saul Parker, the idiot? The poor wretch had one of his fits,
+and his mother was up all night with him. Little cur! Cruelty and
+cowardice always go together: but think what his bringing up must have
+been."
+
+"I wonder Mr. and Mrs. Orton are not ashamed to send him visiting;
+Osmond knows something of the Ortons, you know."
+
+"Indeed!"
+
+"Yes; they have one of the new big houses up in our part of London, and
+Mr. Orton is something of a connoisseur in pictures. Osmond is painting
+two for him now."
+
+"Yes," said Osmond, laughing, "but now I go out armed, and escorted by a
+_cordon_ of sisters to keep off murderers; landscape-painting has become
+as risky a profession as that of newspaper-reporter at the seat of war.
+I really think I ought to allow for personal risk in my prices, don't
+you, Fowler?"
+
+A brisk "Halloo!" startled them all; and, looking eagerly forward, they
+became aware of a group gathered together at some distance ahead, at the
+point where the road ended, and gave way to a winding pathway among the
+chalk cliffs. Very picturesque and very happy they all looked--Wyn
+longed to coax them to stand still, and take out her sketch-book.
+
+The wagonette stood a short way off, with two Miss Willoughbys, Miss
+Fanny and Miss Emily, seated in it. Acland was unloading the provisions
+and handing them to Jane. Hilda, Jacqueline, and Elsa were sitting on
+the grassy chalk boulders, with Mr. Haldane, Claud Cranmer, Dr. Forbes,
+and Godfrey as their escort.
+
+As the party in the dog-cart drew near, Osmond's eyes sought out Elsa.
+She was looking charming, for the aunts had taken Wyn into confidence on
+the subject of their niece's costume, and her white dress and shady hat
+left little to be desired. She and the Allonby girls had been plucking
+tall spires of fox-glove to keep off the annoying flies; Mr. Cranmer was
+arranging a big frond of diletata round Hilda's hat for coolness; and
+over all the lovely scene brooded the sultry grandeur of early August,
+and the murmur of the sea washing lazily at the feet of the scorched red
+cliffs.
+
+The spot selected for pic-nicking was a shelving bit of coast known as
+the Landslip. A large mass of soil had broken away in the middle of the
+seventeenth century, carrying cottages and cattle to headlong ruin. Now
+it lay peacefully settled down into the brink of the bay, the great scar
+from whence it had been torn all riddled with gull's nests. The chatter
+and laughter of the birds was incessant, and there was something almost
+weird to Wynifred in the strange "Ha-ha!" which echoed along the cliffs
+as the busy white wings wheeled in and out, flashing in the light and
+disappearing.
+
+"They are teaching the young to fly," explained Mr. Fowler. "If you came
+along here next week, you would find all silent as the grave."
+
+"I am glad they are not flown yet," said Wyn. "I like their laughter,
+there is something uncanny about it."
+
+Mr. Cranmer was passing, laden with a basket.
+
+"Characteristic of Miss Allonby! She likes something because it is
+uncanny!" he remarked. "Is there anything uncanny about _you_, Fowler,
+by any chance?"
+
+"What has upset Cranmer?" asked Henry, arching his eyebrows.
+
+"I don't know, really. Suppose you go and find out," said Wyn, laughing
+a little.
+
+It was her greeting of him which had annoyed Claud; and Wyn was keen
+enough to gauge precisely the reason why it had annoyed him.
+
+He had scarcely seen her since the evening when he and she had walked
+from the village to Poole together. A vivid remembrance of that walk
+remained in his mind, and he had been determined to meet her again in
+the most matter-of-fact way possible. He told himself that it would be
+ungentlemanly in the extreme to so much as hint at sentimental memories,
+when he was not in the least in love, and had no intention of becoming
+so. Accordingly his "How do you do, Miss Allonby?" had been the very
+essence of casual acquaintanceship. Wyn, on her side, was even more
+anxious than he that her momentary weakness should be treated merely as
+a digression. She had been very angry with herself for having been so
+stirred; for stirred she had been, to such an unwonted extent, that
+Claud had been scarcely a moment out of her thoughts for two days after.
+The very recollection made her angry with herself. She met him on his
+own ground; if his greeting was casual, hers was even more so. It was
+perfect indifference--not icy, not reserved, so as to hint at hidden
+resentment, hidden feeling of some kind, but simply the most complete
+lack of _empressement_; his hand and himself apparently dismissed from
+her mind in a moment; and this should have pleased Claud, of
+course,--only it did not.
+
+He asked himself angrily what the girl was made of. His usually sweet
+temper was quite soured for the moment; impossible to help throwing a
+taunt behind him as he passed her, impossible to help being furious when
+he perceived that the taunt had not stung at all. He looked round for
+Elsa Brabourne, that he might devote himself to her; but she was
+entirely absorbed in the occupation of finding a sheltered place for
+Allonby, where he might be out of the sun.
+
+Jacqueline and young Haldane were laying the cloth together, and doing
+it so badly that Hilda seized it from them and dismissed them in
+disgrace, proceeding to lay it herself with the assistance of old Dr.
+Forbes, who had fallen a hopeless victim at first sight. Jacqueline and
+Haldane went off, apparently quarrelling violently, down to the shore,
+and were presently to be seen in the act of fulfilling their threat of
+going out in a boat and getting drowned. Mr. Fowler shouted to them not
+to go far, as dinner would be ready at once, and hastened off to pilot
+dear little Miss Fanny safely down the rocky pathway to a seat where she
+might enjoy her picnic in comfort. Everyone had been relieved, though
+nobody had liked to say so, when Miss Charlotte announced that picnics
+were not in her line.
+
+Wyn had been bitterly disappointed that it was not possible to bring
+Miss Ellen; but the invalid's health was growing daily feebler, and she
+was now quite unequal to the exertion of the shortest drive. So Miss
+Fanny, fortified by Miss Emily, had set out, with as much excitement and
+trepidation as if she had joined a band for the discovery of the
+north-west passage; and now, clinging to Henry Fowler's arm, was
+carefully conducted down the perilous steps towards the place of
+gathering. Wyn was left standing by herself, watching with a smile the
+manoeuvres of Jac and Haldane in their boat below, and Claud was left
+with a scowl watching Wyn.
+
+After standing silently aloof for several minutes, he went slowly up to
+her.
+
+"Your brother has made wonderful progress since I left, Miss Allonby,"
+he remarked, stiffly.
+
+"Yes, hasn't he?" she said, with a smile, her eyes still fixed on the
+boat. "Do just look at my sister; she is trying to pull, and she is only
+accustomed to Thames rowing; she does not know what to do without a
+button to her oar."
+
+He did not look, he kept his eyes rivetted on her calm face.
+
+"You look much better for your stay in Devonshire, too," he said,
+determined to make the conversation personal.
+
+"Yes, so the girls say. I was rather over-worked when I first came down.
+How calm it is, isn't it? Hardly a wavelet. I think even I could go out
+without feeling unhappy to-day."
+
+"May I take you presently? I am pretty well used to sea-rowing. My
+brother's place in Ireland is on the coast."
+
+"Thanks, I should like to come; we will make up a party--Hilda and Mr.
+Fowler----"
+
+"You are determined to give me plenty of work. I suggested pulling one
+person--not three. There are four boats; let them take another; but
+perhaps you don't care to go without Mr. Fowler."
+
+This speech approached nearer to being rude than anything she had ever
+heard from the courteous Claud. It made her very angry. She lifted her
+eyes and allowed them to meet his calmly.
+
+"It certainly adds greatly to my pleasure to be in Mr. Fowler's
+society," she said very tranquilly; "he is one of the most perfect
+gentlemen I ever met."
+
+"You are right, he is," said Claud, almost penitently; and just at this
+juncture Godfrey tore by like a whirlwind, shouting out at the top of
+his voice,
+
+"Dinner! Dinner! Dinner's ready! Look alive, everybody! Come and tackle
+the grub!"
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXI.
+
+    Is she wronged? To the rescue of her honor,
+                My heart!
+
+    _Song from "Pippa Passes."_
+
+
+The dinner was a most hilarious repast. It was impossible to resist the
+infectious good spirits of the Allonby girls, and Godfrey was duly awed
+and held in check by the presence of Mr. Fowler.
+
+Elsa sat, her eyes wide open, drinking in, word by word, all this fresh
+thrilling life which was opening round her. Girls and their ways were
+becoming less and less of a mystery to her; the expression which had
+been so wanting was now informing all the pretty features, making her
+beauty a thing to be wondered at and rejoiced over by the impressionable
+Osmond. Dinner over, all dispersed to seek their pleasure as seemed best
+to them; and Mr. Fowler, who appeared to have constituted himself surety
+for Godfrey's good behavior, ordered the boy to come out in the same
+boat with him. But he was not cunning enough for the spoilt child.
+
+"Likely," remarked Master Brabourne, "that I'm going to pass the
+afternoon dangling from that old joker's watch-chain. Not much; no,
+thank you; I'd sooner be on my own hook this journey, any way; so you
+may whistle for me, Mr. Fowler."
+
+After this muttered soliloquy, he at once obliterated himself, so
+completely, that nobody noticed that he was missing, and Henry embarked
+with Hilda Allonby and Miss Emily Willoughby, and was half-way across
+the bay before he remembered the tiresome child's existence. Miss Fanny
+declined the perils of the deep, and stayed on shore; Wynifred remained
+with her for a few minutes, to see that she was happy and comfortable
+and, on turning away at last, found that there was nobody left for her
+to pair off with but Mr. Cranmer, who stood doggedly at a short
+distance, watching her.
+
+"What shall we do?" he asked.
+
+"I don't mind. What is everyone else doing?"
+
+"Going out in boats. Are you anxious to be in the fashion?"
+
+"Yes, I think so. Is there a boat left?"
+
+"There is. Come down this way."
+
+It rather vexed Wynifred to find herself thus appropriated. It had been
+her intention to steer clear of Claud, and now here he was, glued to her
+side for the afternoon. However, there was really no reason for
+disquiet; since her momentary lapse she had taken herself well in hand,
+and felt that she had the advantage over him by the fact of being
+warned.
+
+As they slipped through the blue water, she turned her eyes to land, and
+there saw a sight which, for no special reason, seemed to cast a tinge
+of sadness over her mood. It was only Osmond and Elsa, side by side,
+wandering inland, slowly, and evidently in deep conversation. In a few
+seconds the chalk boulders would hide them from view; Wyn watched their
+progress wistfully, and then, suddenly withdrawing her gaze, found that
+of her companion fixed upon her.
+
+"I ought to apologize for saying anything," he said, deprecatingly, "but
+that is a pretty obvious case, isn't it?"
+
+"Is it?"
+
+He suddenly aimed one of his shafts of ridicule at her.
+
+"A novelist and so unobservant?"
+
+"Oh, no," said Wyn, gravely, leaning forward, her chin on her hand, and
+still following the couple with her eyes. "I am not unobservant."
+
+"Yet you don't see that your brother is attracted?"
+
+"I see it quite well."
+
+"Your tone implies dissatisfaction. Don't you like Miss Brabourne?"
+
+"You ask home questions; I hardly feel able to answer you. I know so
+little of her."
+
+He arched his eyebrows.
+
+"Is hers such a very intricate character?"
+
+"I don't know about intricate; perhaps not, but it is remarkably
+undeveloped."
+
+"Don't you like what you have seen of her?"
+
+Wyn hesitated.
+
+"I think I ought not to make her the subject of discussion; it doesn't
+seem quite kind."
+
+"I beg your pardon, it is my fault. I have been trying to make you talk
+about her, because I honestly wanted your opinion. I have studied the
+young lady in question a good deal; but I am one who believes that you
+should go to a woman to get a fair opinion of a woman."
+
+"What!" cried Wyn, with animation. "Take care! You could not mean that,
+surely! It is too good to be true. Have I at last discovered a man who
+believes that woman can occasionally be impartial--who is not convinced
+that the female mind is swayed exclusively by the two passions of love
+and jealousy? This is really refreshing! Yes, I do believe you are
+right. A woman should be judged by the vote of her own sex. Of course,
+one particular woman's opinion of her may very likely be biassed. I
+don't pretend to say that women are not sometimes spiteful--I have known
+those who were. But to say that some fair young girl will be
+deliberately tabooed by all the girls she knows, simply because she
+happens to be attractive to gentlemen, is a fiction which is the
+monopoly of the male novelist. I have never known a woman really
+unpopular among women without very good cause for it."
+
+"Exactly. Well, this being so, I shall attach great weight to your
+opinion of Miss Elsa."
+
+"In that case, I had far better not give it; besides, I am only one
+woman, and the fact that my brother is evidently much attracted by the
+subject of our conversation is very likely to make my judgment
+one-sided. You know, I think nobody good enough for Osmond."
+
+"Most natural; yet I would go bail for the candor of your judgment."
+
+"Would you? I am not sure whether I would. I have not much to go upon,"
+she said, musingly.
+
+"You have allowed me to gather this much--that you are not particularly
+favorably impressed," he said, cunningly. "You had better give me your
+reasons."
+
+She made a protesting gesture.
+
+"It is not fair--I have said nothing," she answered. "I tell you I can
+form no opinion worth having. I only know two points concerning
+Elsa--she is very beautiful and very unsophisticated. I don't know that,
+in my eyes, to be unsophisticated is to be charming; I know it is so in
+the opinion of many. I should say that where the instincts of a nature
+are noble, it _is_ very delightful to see those impulses allowed free
+and natural scope--no artificial restraint--no repression; but I think,"
+she continued, slowly, "that some natures are better for training--some
+impulses decidedly improved by being controlled."
+
+"I should think Miss Brabourne had been controlled enough, in all
+conscience."
+
+"No," said Wyn, "she has only not been allowed to develop. The Misses
+Willoughby have never taught her to restrain one single impulse, because
+they have failed to recognise the fact that she has impulses to
+restrain. They do not know her any better than I do--perhaps not so
+well."
+
+"Very likely," said Claud; "I see what you mean. You think it would be
+unjust to her to pronounce on a character which has had, as yet, no
+chance of self-discipline?"
+
+"Exactly," agreed Wyn, with a sigh of relief at having partly evaded
+this narrow questioning. She did not like to say to him what had struck
+her several times in her intercourse with Elsa, namely, that there was a
+certain want in the girl's nature--a something lacking--an absence of
+traits which in a disposition originally fine would have been pretty
+sure to show themselves.
+
+Wynifred was anxious for Osmond. She had never seen him seriously
+attracted before. Claud did not know, as she did, how significant a fact
+was his present exclusive devotion, and was naturally not aware of the
+consistency with which the young artist had always held himself aloof
+from the aimless flirtations which are so much the fashion of the day.
+
+In the present state of society it needs a clever man to steer clear of
+the charge of flirting, but Osmond Allonby had done it, whilst eminently
+sociable, and avowedly fond of women's society, he had managed that his
+name should never be coupled on the tongues of the thoughtless with that
+of any girl he knew.
+
+But now----! Every rule and regulation which had hitherto governed his
+life seemed swept away. Old limits, old boundaries were no more. The
+power of marshalling his emotions and finding them ready to obey when he
+cried "Halt!"--a power he possessed in common with his sister
+Wynifred--was a thing of the past. Even Wyn's loving eyes, following him
+so sympathetically, could not guess the completeness of his surrender.
+All the deep, carefully-guarded treasure of his love was ready to be
+poured out at the feet of the golden-haired, white-robed Elsa at his
+side. He would not own to himself that his attachment was likely to
+prove a hopeless one. With the swiftness of youth in love, his thoughts
+had ranged over the future. He was making a career--Wyn was following
+his example, in her own line. Jacqueline and Hilda were too pretty to
+remain long unmarried.
+
+Concerning Elsa's heiress-ship he was not half so well-informed as Claud
+Cranmer. But indeed the question of ways and means only floated lightly
+on the top of the deep waves of feeling that filled his soul. His Elaine
+seemed to him a creature from another sphere--isolated, innocent, and
+wilful as the Maid of Astolat herself. Probably few young men in the
+modern Babylon could have brought her such an unspent, single-hearted,
+ideal devotion; his love was hardly that of the nineteenth century.
+
+The only difficulty he experienced, in walking at her side, was to check
+himself, to so curb his passion as to be able to talk lightly to her;
+and, even through his most ordinary remarks, there ran a vibration, a
+thrill of feeling, "the echo in him broke upon the words that he was
+speaking," and perhaps communicated itself to the mood of the
+uncomprehending girl.
+
+"Now," he said, as after several minutes' silence they seated themselves
+at last, sheltered from sun and breeze, under the shadow of a chalk
+cliff. "Now at last I claim your promise."
+
+"My promise?"
+
+"Yes, you know what I asked you when we met to-day. You were looking
+like Huldy in the American poem,
+
+      'All kind o' smily round the lips,
+    An' teary round the lashes.'
+
+You said that when we were alone you'd tell me why. What was it?"
+
+A flash of sudden, angry resentment crossed the girl's fair face, and
+tears again welled up to the edges of her limpid eyes. Osmond thought he
+had never seen anything so lovely as her expression and attitude. If one
+could but paint the quick, panting heave of a white throat, the quiver
+of a sad, impetuous mouth.
+
+"You can guess--it was the usual thing--Godfrey," she said, struggling
+to command her voice, but in vain. She could say no more, but turned her
+face away from him, swallowing tears.
+
+Osmond felt a sudden movement of helpless indignation, which almost
+carried him away. He mentally applied the brake before he could answer
+rationally.
+
+"It is abominable--unheard of!" was the calmest expression he could
+think of. "Something must be done--quickly too! I should like to wring
+the insolent little beggar's neck for him! What did he do, to-day?"
+
+For answer she pushed up her sleeve, showing him two livid bruises on a
+dazzlingly white arm--an arm with a dimpled round elbow.
+
+"I caught him smoking in the stable, which is forbidden because of
+setting fire to the straw," she faltered, "and I told him he ought not
+to do it, so he did what he calls the 'screw.' You don't know how it
+hurts!"
+
+Osmond's wrath surmounted even his love.
+
+"But why don't you box his ears--why don't you give him a
+lesson--cowardly little beggar!" he cried. "You are bigger than he, Miss
+Brabourne, you ought to be more than a match for him!"
+
+A burst of tears came.
+
+"I don't even know how to hit," she sobbed, childishly. "I don't know
+anything that other people know; and, if I tell of him, he pays me out
+so dreadfully! He puts frogs in my bed, and takes away my candle, and
+the other night he dressed up in a sheet, and made phosphorous eyes, and
+nearly frightened me out of my senses, and I don't dare tell
+because--because he would do something even worse if I did! Oh, you
+don't know what he is. He catches birds and mice, and cuts them up
+alive--he says he is going to be a doctor, and he is practising
+vivisection; and he makes me look while he is doing it--if I don't he
+has ways of punishing me. He made me smoke a cigar, and I was so
+terribly sick, and he made me steal the sideboard keys, and get whiskey
+for him, and said if I did not he would tell aunts something that would
+make them forbid me to come to the picnic. He was tipsy last night," she
+shuddered, "really tipsy. He made me help him up to his room, and tell
+aunts he was not well, and could not come down to supper. Oh!" she burst
+out, "you don't know what my life is! He makes me miserable! I hate him!
+But I daren't tell, you don't know what he would do if I told!" Her face
+crimsoned with remembrance of insult. "I _can't_ tell you the worst
+things, I can't!" she cried, "but he is dreadful. Every little thing I
+say or do, he remembers, and seems to see how he can make me suffer for
+it. I have no peace, day or night; and he is so good when aunts are
+there. They don't know how wicked he is."
+
+"But surely," urged Osmond, gently, "if you were to tell the Misses
+Willoughby, they would send him home, and then you would be free from
+him?"
+
+She dashed away the tears from her eyes, and shook her head with a smile
+full of bitterness.
+
+"They wouldn't believe me," she said, "they never have believed me; that
+is, Aunt Charlotte wouldn't, and she is the one who rules. They would
+call Godfrey and ask if it was true, and he--he thinks nothing of
+telling a lie. Oh! he is a sneak and a coward! If you knew how he has
+curried favor since he has been here! Aunt Charlotte likes him--she will
+give him things she would never give me! She would never believe my word
+against his."
+
+"Miss Brabourne--Elsa," faltered the young man tenderly, "Don't sob
+so--you break my heart--you--you make me--forget myself!"
+
+He leaped to his feet. Poor fellow, his self-command was rapidly
+failing. It had needed but this, the sight of helpless distress in his
+ladylove, to finish his subjugation. He was raging with love, and a
+burning impotent desire to thrash Master Godfrey Brabourne within an
+inch of his life. Yet, as Henry Fowler had said, how could one touch
+such a scrap of a child, such a delicate, puny boy?
+
+He knew well enough the power such a young scoundrel would have to
+render miserable the life of a timid girl, unused to brothers. Elsa had
+never learned to hold her own, never learned to be handy or helpful. She
+was most probably what boys call a muff, a fit butt for the coarse
+ridicule and coarser bullying of the ill-brought-up Godfrey. That
+helplessness which in the eyes of her lover was her culminating charm
+was exactly what to the boy was an irresistible incentive to cruelty.
+
+Osmond turned his eyes on the drooping figure of the girl. She was
+leaning forward, her elbow on her knee. Her hollowed hand made a niche
+for her chin to rest in, and her profile was turned towards him as she
+gazed sadly seawards. On her cheek lay one big tear, and the long, thick
+lashes were wet.
+
+He came again to her side, and knelt there. Flushing at his own
+boldness, he took her hand. It trembled in his own, but lay passive.
+
+"Elsa," he said, tenderly, soothingly, "it will not be for long, you
+must not let this wretched child's mischief prey upon you so. I know how
+badly you feel it, but consider--he will be gone in a few days."
+
+"Oh, no, no, that is just what is so hateful! He will be here for weeks!
+Mr. Orton has been taken ill at Homburg, and aunts have promised to
+keep him till they come back. Oh,"--she snatched away her hand and
+clasped it with the other, as if hardly conscious of what she did,--"oh,
+I can bear it now, when you are all here; but next week--next week--when
+there will be no Wynifred, no Hilda, no Jacqueline ... no you!... what
+shall I do then?"
+
+"Elaine!"
+
+"When I think of it, I could kill him!" cried the girl, her face
+reddening with the remembrance of insults which she could not repeat to
+Osmond. "You don't know what a wicked mind he has--he is like an evil
+spirit, sent to lure me on to do something dreadful! When he speaks so
+to me, I feel as if I must silence him--as if I could strike him with
+all my force. Suppose--suppose one day I could not restrain myself...."
+
+She was as white as a sheet, as she suddenly paused.
+
+"What was that noise?" she panted.
+
+"What noise?" he asked.
+
+"I thought I heard Godfrey's whistle--there is a noise he
+makes sometimes".... Her face seemed paralysed with fear and
+dislike--involuntarily, she drew nearer to Osmond. "If he should have
+heard me!" she breathed, with her mouth close to his ear.
+
+"How could he hurt you when I am with you?" cried he, passionately. "My
+darling, my own, you are quite safe with me!"
+
+His arms were round her before he had realised what he was doing. It
+seemed his divine right to shield her--his vocation, his purpose in life
+to come between her and any danger, real or fancied.
+
+A yell, quite unlike anything human--a rush of loose pebbles and white
+dust, a crash on the path close to the unwary couple, and a long
+discordant peal of laughter.
+
+"Cotched 'em! Cotched 'em! Cotched 'em by all that's lovely! Done 'em
+brown, bowled 'em out clean! Oh, my dears, if you only did know what
+jolly asses you both look, spooning away there like one o'clock! I'm
+hanged if I ever saw anything like it. I wouldn't have missed it--no,
+not for--come, I say, let go of a feller, Mr. Allonby. Lovers are fair
+game, don't yer know!"
+
+If ever any man felt enraged it was Osmond at that moment; the more,
+because he saw how undignified it was to be in a rage at all. Revulsion
+of feeling is always unpleasant, and nothing could be more complete than
+the revulsion from the purest of sentiment to the most contemptible of
+practical jokes.
+
+Elsa cried out in a mingled anger and terror--the ludicrous side of a
+situation never struck her by any chance. Osmond, as he sprang up and
+collared the impudent young miscreant, was divided between a desire to
+storm and a desire to roar with laughter. The former gained the
+ascendency as he looked back at Elsa's white face.
+
+"You impertinent young scamp," he said, between his teeth, "I've a great
+mind to give you such a punishment as you never had in your life, to
+make you remember this day!"
+
+"You daren't," said Godfrey, coolly, "you daren't flog me, I'm delicate.
+You'll have to settle accounts with my uncle if you bring on the
+bleeding from my lungs. My tutor ain't allowed to touch me."
+
+"You sickening little coward--you sneak," said Osmond, with scathing
+contempt. "A spy--that's what you are. I hope you are proud of yourself.
+Look how you have startled your sister."
+
+"Pretty little dear--a great lump, twice my size," sneered Godfrey,
+grinning. "Look at her, blubbing again! She does nothing but blub. Stop
+that, Elaine, will you?"
+
+"All right, young man," said Osmond, "I can't flog you, but I think I
+can take it out of you another way just as well. Don't flatter yourself
+you are going to get off so easily. I'll teach you a lesson of manners,
+and I'll make it my business that the Miss Willoughbys and Mr. Fowler
+know how you have behaved--not to-day only. You little cur, how dare
+you?"
+
+"Who's old Fowler? He can't touch me. Keep your hair on. What are you
+going to do with me?"
+
+"I'm going to keep you out of mischief for a bit," said Osmond, as he
+skilfully laid the boy down on the grass with one dexterous motion of
+his foot, and, producing two thick straps from his pocket, he proceeded
+to strap first his feet and then his hands together.
+
+"Pooh! What do I care? I've had my fun, and I'm ready to pay for it. Oh,
+my stars, wasn't it rich to hear Elsa coming the injured innocent and
+laying it on thick for her beloved's benefit? I heard every word you
+both said!" cried Godfrey, convulsed with laughter.
+
+"If you say another word, I'll gag you."
+
+"Gag away! I've heard all I want to, and said all I want to, too. Good
+old Allonby, so you believe all the humbug she's been telling you? You
+old silly, don't you know girls always say that sort of thing to draw
+the men on? I told her she ought to bring you to the point to-day.... I
+say ... I can't breathe!"
+
+He was skilfully and rapidly gagged by Osmond, who afterwards picked up
+his prisoner and carried him to a high steep shelf of rock, where he
+laid him down.
+
+"You can cool your heels up there till I come and take you down," he
+said between his teeth. "If you roll over, you'll roll down, and most
+likely break your spine, so I advise you to be quiet, and think of your
+sins."
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXII.
+
+          We walked beside the sea
+    After a day which perished, silently,
+    Of its own glory.
+          Nor moon nor stars were out:
+    They did not dare to tread so soon about,
+    Though trembling in the footsteps of the sun;
+    The light was neither night's nor day's, but one
+    Which, lifelike, had a beauty in its doubt.
+
+    E. B. BROWNING.
+
+
+On turning his flushed and excited face again towards the seat where he
+had left Elsa, he found that she was gone. It did not surprise him, but
+made him resolve instantly to follow and console her. He wandered about
+for some time amongst the sunny windings of the cliffs before he found
+the object of his search.
+
+She was crouched down on the grass, her face hidden, her whole frame
+shaken with sobs. It brought the tears to his own eyes to witness such
+distress, yet his feeling towards Godfrey was not all anathema. Only
+exceptional circumstances could have enabled him to assume the post of
+comforter, and those circumstances had been brought about by the
+impudent boy.
+
+"Miss Brabourne," he said, gently, looking down at her.
+
+She started, and checked her grief.
+
+"Forgive my intruding," he went on, seating himself on a ledge of cliff
+just above her, "but I have said too much already not to say more. You
+must feel with me, our interview can't be broken off at this point; you
+must hear me out now, and, if I have shattered all my hopes by my
+reckless haste, why, I shall only have myself to thank for it."
+
+She but half heard, and hardly understood him; her whole mind was at
+work on one point.
+
+"What must you think of me?" she cried. "Did you believe it?--what he
+said of me?"
+
+"Believe it! Believe what?" cried Osmond. "Don't allude to it, please,
+please don't. It makes me lose my temper and feel inclined to rave. I
+heard little that was said; what I did hear could inspire me only with
+one sensation--anger at his impudence, sympathy for you."
+
+"Then you don't--believe--you don't think that I was--trying to make you
+flirt with me?"
+
+It was out at last, and, having managed to pronounce the words, she
+buried her face in her hands.
+
+"Oh, Elsa!" was all that her lover could say; but the tone of it made
+her lift her humbled head and seek his eyes. Whatever his look, she
+could not meet it; her own sank again, she blushed pitifully, quivered,
+hesitated, finally let him take her hand.
+
+Consciousness was fully awake now. The girl, whose fingers thrilled in
+his own, was a different being from the Elaine who had watched him
+sketching in the lane. She knew that she was a woman, knew also that she
+was beloved. Years of education would never have taught her so
+completely as she was now taught by her lover's eyes.
+
+He began to speak. She listened, in a trance of delight. He begged her
+to forgive his weakness in failing to control his feelings for her. Poor
+fellow, he was lowly enough to satisfy an empress. He knew that he had
+no right to speak of love to this girl who had seen no men, had no
+experience of life. He felt that he had taken an unfair advantage of her
+ignorance, and the thought tortured his pride. He would not ask her if
+she returned his love, still less demand of her any promise; he should
+go to Edge Willoughby that very night, he said, and apologise to her
+aunts for his unguarded behavior. He loved her dearly, devotedly. In a
+year's time he would come and tell her so again. But not yet. He was
+poor, and he could not brook that anyone should think he wanted a rich
+wife, though, as has been said, his knowledge of Elaine's prospects was
+by no means so minute as Claud Cranmer's. All his passion, all his
+regret, were faltered forth; and the result was, to his utter
+astonishment, a burst of indignation from his lady-love.
+
+He did not believe her--could not trust her! Oh, she had thought that
+he, at least, understood her, but she was wrong, of course! He, like
+everyone else, thought her a foolish child, incapable of judging, or
+knowing her own mind.
+
+"Do you think that I have no feeling?" she asked, pitifully. "Do you
+think that I can bear to have you leave me next week, and go back to
+London and never be able to so much as hear from you, to know what you
+are doing, or if you still think of me? How can you love such a creature
+as you think me--foolish, ignorant, inconstant----"
+
+Could it be Elsa who spoke? Elsa, whose lovely face glowed with
+expression and feeling? Her development had indeed been rapid. Lost in
+wonder and admiration, he could not answer her, but remained mutely
+looking at her, till, with a little cry of angry shame, she bounded up
+and ran away from him.
+
+Leaping to his feet, he followed and captured her. Hardly knowing what
+he did, he took her in his arms. Her lovely cheek rested against his
+dark blue flannel coat, she was content to have it so, for the moment
+she believed that she loved him.
+
+The great red sun had rolled into the sea, when the two came up to the
+camping place again. Tea was half over, and they were greeted with a
+derisive chorus. Wyn, however, looked apprehensively at her brother's
+illuminated expression and gleaming eye, and Claud, noting the same
+danger-signals, looked at her, and their eyes met.
+
+"Where is Godfrey?" asked Mr. Fowler.
+
+"Jove, I forgot! I must go and fetch him," cried Osmond, laughing, as he
+ran off.
+
+"Mr. Allonby put him in punishment for behaving so badly," explained
+Elsa, with burning blushes.
+
+"What had he done?" asked Dr. Forbes, with interest.
+
+"He was very rude to Mr. Allonby," she faltered.
+
+"I'm grateful indeed to Allonby for keeping him in order," laughed her
+godfather.
+
+Godfrey appeared in a very cowed state, silent and sulky. His durance
+had been longer and more disagreeable than he had bargained for. He was
+quite determined to be ill if he could, and so wreak vengeance on his
+gaoler; and his evil expression boded ill to poor Elsa, as he passed her
+with a muttered, "You only wait, my lady, that's all!"
+
+The twilight fell so rapidly that tea was obliged to be quickly cleared
+away. It was not so hilarious a meal as dinner had been, for Osmond and
+Elsa were quite silent, and Wyn too absorbed in thinking of them to be
+lively.
+
+They all went down to the shore to wash up the tea-things, and lingered
+there a little, watching the tender violets and crimsons of the west,
+and listening to the soft murmur of the lucid little wavelets which
+hardly broke upon the sand.
+
+Wyn leaned her chin upon her hand--her favorite attitude--and watched.
+Jacqueline and young Haldane were busily washing and wiping the same
+plate, an arrangement which seemed to provoke much lively discussion.
+Claud was drying the knives and forks which Hilda handed to him. Osmond
+and Elsa stood apart, doing nothing but look at one another. Wyn hated
+herself for the choking feeling of sadness which possessed her. Osmond
+had been so much to her; now, how would it be? Such jealousy was
+miserable, contemptible, she knew; but the pain of it would not be
+stilled at once.
+
+Henry Fowler appeared, took the knives and forks, and carried them off,
+followed by Hilda. Claud turned, and looked at Wyn.
+
+"What a night," he said.
+
+"Yes."
+
+"Is that all the answer I am to expect?"
+
+"What more can I say? Do you want me to contradict you?"
+
+He was silent, his eyes fixed on the pure reach of sky.
+
+"I wonder why I always feel sad just after sunset?" he remarked, after a
+pause.
+
+"Do you?" said Wyn, quickly.
+
+"Yes; do you?"
+
+"To-night I do."
+
+"I thought so."
+
+"Our holidays are nearly over," said the girl, with a sigh. "I must go
+back to work again. I must utilize my material," she added, a little
+bitterly. "All the splendor of these sunsets must go into the pages of a
+novel, if I can reproduce it."
+
+"It would go better into a poem," said Claud, tossing a pebble into the
+water.
+
+"That is one fault I may venture to say I am without," remarked
+Wynifred. "I never write verses."
+
+"I do; it amounts to a positive vice with me," returned he, coolly.
+
+"I am sure I beg your pardon," she said, confused.
+
+"You need not. It is only a vent. Everyone must have a vent of some
+sort, otherwise the contents of their mind turn sour. Yours is fiction;
+you don't need the puny consolation of verse, which is my only outlet."
+
+"You are very sarcastic."
+
+"So were you."
+
+"If you always take your tone from me----" she began, and stopped.
+
+"I should have my tongue under better control, you were about to add,"
+he suggested.
+
+"Nothing of the sort. I forget what I meant. I am not in a mood for
+rational conversation this evening."
+
+"Nor I. Let us talk nonsense."
+
+"No, thank you. I can't do that well enough to be interesting. Go and
+talk to Mr. Haldane; he studies nonsense as a fine art."
+
+"I accept my dismissal; thank you for giving it so unequivocally," he
+answered, huffily, and, turning on his heel, marched away, and spoke to
+her no more that evening.
+
+Later, when the darkness had fallen, and the company were dispersed to
+their various homes, Henry Fowler, coming from the stable through the
+garden, was arrested by the scent of his guest's cigar, and joined him
+on the rustic seat under the trees.
+
+It was a perfect summer night, moonless, but the whole purple vault of
+heaven powdered with stars.
+
+The garden of Lower House was, of course, like all the land in Edge
+Valley, inclined at an angle of considerably more than forty-five
+degrees, which fact added greatly to its picturesqueness. Right through
+it flowed a brook which dashed over rough stones in a miniature cascade,
+and added its low murmuring rush to the influence of the hour.
+
+Claud sat idly and at ease, smoking a final cigar. It was almost
+midnight, but on such a night it seemed impossible to go to bed.
+
+"What are you thinking of?" asked Henry, as he sat down and struck a
+light.
+
+The match flickered over the young man's moody face; such an expression
+was unusual with the cheerful brother of Lady Mabel. He merely shrugged
+his shoulders in answer to the question.
+
+"The Miss Allonbys are certainly charming girls," said Mr. Fowler, after
+a pause. "The eldest, indeed, is most exceptional."
+
+"You are right there," said Claud, suddenly, as though the remark
+unloosed his tongue. "I don't profess to understand such a nature, I
+must say."
+
+His host looked inquiringly at him, surprised at the irritation of his
+tones.
+
+"If I were a different fellow, I declare to you I'd make her fall in
+love with me," said the young man, vindictively, "if only for the
+pleasure of seeing her become human."
+
+"And why don't you try it, being as you are?" asked Mr. Fowler,
+composedly, after a brief interval of astonishment. "Why this uncalled
+for modesty? Is it on account of your one defect, or because you have
+only one?"
+
+Claud laughed, and flushed a little under cover of the friendly gloom.
+
+"Miss Allonby is too near perfection to care for it in others," he said,
+with a suspicion of a sneer.
+
+"Indeed? Do you think so? She seems full of faults to me."
+
+His companion turned his head sharply towards him.
+
+"Perhaps I hardly meant faults. I should say--amiable weakness. I only
+meant to express that to me she seems 'a being not too bright and good
+for human nature's daily food.' I am such a recluse, Mr. Cranmer, I must
+of necessity study my Wordsworth."
+
+Claud was silent for a long time, and only the harmonious rushing of the
+brook broke the hush.
+
+"Is that the idea she gives you?" he asked, at length. "Shall I tell you
+what I think of her? That she is incapable of passion, and so unfit for
+her century."
+
+"Incapable of passion," said the elder man, slowly, "and so safe from
+the knowledge of infinite pain. For her sake I almost wish it were so.
+Have you read her books?"
+
+"Yes."
+
+"Don't you think the passion in them rings true?"
+
+"True enough; she has wasted it there. There is her real world. I--we--"
+he corrected himself very hastily--"are only shadows."
+
+"I think that remark of yours is truer than you know," said Mr. Fowler.
+"I am sure that Miss Allonby lives in a dream----"
+
+"But you think she could be awakened?"
+
+"If you could fuse her ideal with the real. I read a poem in the volume
+of Browning you lent me the other day. It told of a man who set himself
+to imagine the form of the woman he loved standing before him in the
+room. He summoned to his mind's eyes every detail of her personal
+appearance,--her dress, her expression,--till the power of his will
+brought the real woman to stand where the fancied shape had been. It is
+not altogether a pleasant poem, but it reminded me of her, in a way. She
+is standing, I conjecture, with her eyes and her heart fixed on an
+ideal. If a real man could take its place, he would know what the
+character of Wynifred Allonby really is. No other mortal ever will."
+
+Claud smoked on for a minute or two in silence; then, taking his cigar
+from his mouth, he broke off the ash carefully against the sole of his
+boot.
+
+"Your estimate of her is practically worthless," he remarked, "because
+you are supposing her to be consistent, which you know is an
+impossibility. No woman is consistent; if they were, not one in a
+hundred would ever marry at all. Who do you suppose ever married her
+ideal?"
+
+"You are right, then," said his companion, thoughtfully. "The
+adaptability of woman is marvellous. Mercifully for us. But I have a
+fancy that the lady in question is an exception to most rules. One is so
+apt to argue from something taken for granted, and therefore most likely
+incorrect. We start here from the assumption that a girl's ideal is an
+ideal of perfection--a thing that never could be realized; and I should
+imagine that to be true in the majority of instances. But it's my idea
+that Miss Allonby has too much insight to build herself such a
+sand-castle. The hero of her novel is just a moderately intelligent man
+of the present day, with his faults fearlessly catalogued--he is no
+sentimental abstraction. And yet I am sure that he is not a man she has
+met, but a man she hopes to meet. That is to say, I am sure she had not
+met him when she wrote the book, but I see no reason why she should not
+come across him some day."
+
+Claud made a restless movement. He tossed away the end of the cigar,
+threw himself back on the garden-seat, and locked his hands behind his
+head.
+
+"The modern girl," he observed, "is complicated."
+
+"Perhaps that is what makes her so interesting," said Mr. Fowler.
+
+"Is she interesting--to you?"
+
+"She is most interesting--to me," was the ready rejoinder.
+
+There was no answer. In the dim starlight the elder man studied the face
+of the younger. He thought Claud Cranmer was better-looking than he had
+previously considered him. There was something sweet in the expression
+of his mouth, something lovable in the questioning gaze of his blue-grey
+eyes.
+
+The silence was broken by the fretful barking of Spot, Claud's
+fox-terrier. He roused himself from his reverie.
+
+"What's up with that little beggar now, I wonder?" he said, as he rose,
+half-absently, and sauntered over the bridge.
+
+"Spot! Spot! Come here! Stop that row, can't you?"
+
+He vanished gradually among the shadows, and Henry Fowler was left
+alone.
+
+"Is he in love with her, or is he not?" he dreamily asked himself. "Talk
+of the complications of the modern girl--there's no getting to the
+bottom of the modern young man. I don't believe he knows himself."
+
+He caught his breath with something like a sigh of regret for an
+irreclaimable past.
+
+"I almost wish I were young again, with a heart and a future to lay at
+her feet!"
+
+It was the nearest he had ever come to a treason against the memory of
+Alice Willoughby. Love in his early days had seemed such a different
+thing--meaning just the protecting, reverential fondness of what was in
+every sense strong for what was in every sense weak. Now it went so far
+deeper--it included so many emotions, some of them almost conflicting.
+Physically--in strength, size, and experience--Wynifred was his
+inferior. Intellectually, though she had read more books than he, he
+felt that they were equals. But there was a fine inner fibre--a
+something to which he could not give a name--an insight, a delicacy of
+hers which soared far above him. Something which was more than sex,
+which no intimacy could remove or weaken--a power of spirit, a loftiness
+which was new in his experience of women.
+
+The men of his day had taken it for granted that woman, however
+charming, was _small_; they had smiled indulgently at pretty airs and
+graces, at miniature spites. They had thought it only natural that these
+captivating creatures should pout and fret if disappointed of a new
+gown, should shriek at a spider, go into hysterics if thwarted, and deny
+the beauty of their good-looking female friends. Such a being as this
+naturally called forth a different species of homage from that demanded
+by a Wynifred Allonby, to whom everything mean, or cramped, or trivial
+was as foreign as it was to Henry Fowler himself. It was not that she
+resisted the impulse to be small; it was not in her nature; she could no
+more be spiteful than a horse could scratch; she had been framed
+otherwise.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXIII.
+
+    And I said--Is this the sky, all grey and silver-suited?
+    And I said--Is this the sea, that lies so pale and wan?
+    I have dreamed, as I remember--give me time, I was reputed
+    Once to have a steady courage--now, I fear, 'tis gone!
+
+    _Requiescat in Pace._
+
+
+Claud sat somewhat despondently at Mr. Fowler's side in the tall
+dog-cart as they spun along the lanes from Stanton back to Lower House.
+Their errand had been to convey some of the Allonbys' luggage to the
+station, and see the family off to London.
+
+They were gone; and the two gentlemen who had just seen the last of them
+were both silent, for different reasons: Claud, because he was resenting
+the indifference of Wynifred's manner, and Henry, because he was
+secretly angry with Claud. He did not understand so much beating about
+the bush. Naturally Mr. Cranmer could not afford to marry an entirely
+portionless wife; very well, then he ought to have packed his
+portmanteau and taken his departure long ago, instead of following Miss
+Allonby hither and thither, engaging her in conversation whenever he
+could secure her attention, and generally behaving as though seriously
+attracted--risking the girl's happiness, Mr. Fowler called it. To be
+sure the conversations seemed usually to end in a wrangle; there was
+nothing tender in them. Wynifred's serenity of aspect was unruffled when
+Claud approached, and she never appeared to regret him when he departed
+in dudgeon. A secret wonder as to whether she could have refused him
+suggested itself, but was rejected as unlikely. Still the master of
+Lower House was not accustomed to see young people on such odd terms
+together; and it vexed him.
+
+The last fortnight of the young artist's stay at Edge had been full of
+excitement; for Osmond had made full confession to the Misses Willoughby
+of his love and his imprudent declaration. The good ladies passed
+through more violent phases of feeling than had been theirs for years.
+Astonishment, fright, excitement, a vague triumph in the subjugation of
+the tall, handsome young man had struggled for the mastery in their
+hearts. Finally they had called in Mr. Fowler to arbitrate.
+
+He came to the conclusion which Osmond felt certain that he would,
+namely: that Elsa could not yet know her own mind. She must be left for
+a year, at least, to gain some knowledge of society; he would not hear
+of her binding herself by any promise.
+
+As to young Allonby, he had personally no objection in the world to him.
+He both liked and respected him, though unable to help feeling sorry
+that he had so prematurely disclosed his love to the girl. He would
+gladly see him engaged to her as soon as ever he could show that it was
+in his power to maintain her in the position to which she was born.
+But, on descending to practical details, it seemed to poor Osmond that
+it might be years before he could claim to be the possessor even of a
+clear five hundred a-year, unencumbered by sisters. Wynifred sympathized
+with him so deeply as to make her preoccupied during all her last days
+at Edge. Claud Cranmer's vagaries could not be so important as her
+darling brother's happiness. Though the engagement was not allowed, yet
+the attitude of the Misses Willoughby was anything but hostile. Osmond
+was a favorite with all, and Miss Ellen was privately determined that
+if, when Elsa was twenty-one, want of money should be the only barrier
+to their happiness, she should consent to the marriage, and make them a
+yearly allowance, with the understanding that all came to them at the
+death of the sisters. But first it was only just that Osmond should be
+for a time on probation, that they might see of what stuff he was made;
+and communication could be kept up by means of a correspondence between
+Elsa and Jacqueline, who had struck up something of a friendship, as
+girls will.
+
+It was now finally settled that Elsa should go to London in November,
+spend a month or two with Lady Mabel, and then a short time with the
+Ortons. In London she would naturally meet the Allonbys, and this
+delightful consideration went far to dry the passionate tears she shed
+on the departure of her lover.
+
+During the fortnight which had elapsed since the picnic, there had been
+an ominous calm on the part of Godfrey. His two or three hours'
+detention on the cliffs had given him a wholesome awe of Osmond, and
+each day afterwards he had been so meek that everyone was beginning to
+hope that he was not so black as he was painted.
+
+Osmond, to show he bore no malice, had taken pains to have the boy
+included in all their expeditions; so that he remarked one day to Elsa:
+
+"Allonby's not half a bad fellow, and I'm hanged if I ever lift a finger
+to help him to marry a wretched little sneak like you. If you'd been
+anything like decently behaved to me, I'd have settled some of my
+fortune on you, but now I'd sooner give him ten thousand down to let you
+alone. I should like him to know what sort you are; but the jolliest
+fellows are fools when they're in love."
+
+"What money have you got that I haven't, I should like to know?" Elsa
+had retorted, unwisely. "I am the eldest--I ought to have the most."
+
+"Jupiter! D'you mean to say the old girls have never told you that our
+papa left me all the cash? Quite the right thing, too. What's a girl to
+do with money? Only brings a set of crawling fortune-hunters round her.
+But, if you'd been anything like, I'd have settled something handsome on
+you when I come of age; as it is, you won't get one penny out of me."
+
+"I don't believe a word you say!"
+
+"All right; but you'd better be careful how you cheek me. I'm going to
+pay you out for all the lies you told Allonby about me. I haven't
+forgotten. You just keep your weather-eye open, my lady. You'll get
+something you won't fancy, I can tell you."
+
+From this menace, Elsa went straight to her Aunt Ellen, to ask if it was
+true that all her father's fortune was left to Godfrey. In great concern
+at her having been told, Miss Ellen was obliged to own that it was so,
+though she still concealed the fact that flagrant injustice had been
+done, the money so bequeathed having all come to Colonel Brabourne
+through his first wife. This part of the story, however, was gleefully
+supplied by Godfrey, who had been lying in ambush outside the door to
+jeer at her as she came out.
+
+"Well, ain't it true? Eh? I don't tell so many crackers as you, you see.
+And the joke of it is that all the money came from your mother, and now
+my mother's son has got it. My! weren't the old aunts in a state, too?
+You should hear my Uncle Fred on the subject! But if your mother was
+like these old cats I'm sure my papa must have been jolly glad to be
+quit of her!"
+
+Elsa darted at him with a cry of rage, but he saved himself by flight.
+If anything had been wanting to fill the cup of her hatred to the brim,
+here it was. Had it not been for this child, she would have been
+rich--very rich. She would have been able to marry Osmond, to have a
+large fine house in London, to have her gowns cut like Lady Mabel's, and
+to possess necklaces, lace, jewels, and all things beautiful in
+profusion.
+
+He had stolen her fortune, insulted her mother, humiliated herself. The
+violence of her wrath and rancour were beyond all limits, and she had
+never been taught self control. She loathed Godfrey; the very sight of
+him choked her; she could scarcely swallow food when he was at the
+table; yet she had no thought of appealing to her aunts. She had never
+received sympathy in all her life--why should she expect it now?
+
+Such was the state of things at Edge Willoughby. The stagnant days of
+yore, when existence merely flowed quietly on from hour to hour, were no
+more. The spell was broken, the prince had kissed and wakened the
+sleeping beauty--human passion had rushed in upon the passionless calm,
+the tide of life from the outer world was flowing, flowing in the fresh
+breeze.
+
+Partly on all these changes was Mr. Cranmer meditating as they drove
+back to Lower House in the dulness of an autumn afternoon.
+
+The weather was threatening, the sea of that strange, thick, lurid
+tinge, which suggests a disturbance somewhere under the surface. The
+gulls skimmed low, with strange cries, over the sluggish heaving water.
+He thought of the hot bright day of the picnic, when the young gulls
+were not yet flown, and when their wild laughter echoed along the
+nest-riddled cliff walls.
+
+A melancholy feeling was upon him, that the year was broken and gone,
+that there would be no more fair weather, no more violet and amber and
+crimson in the west.
+
+To-morrow he was to leave the valley and go north to shoot over a
+friend's moor in Scotland. It was the best thing he could do, he told
+himself. There would be plenty of society, such different society from
+that he had known of late. There would be women of his set, women who
+spoke the social shibboleths he knew. There would be bleak moorland and
+dark grey rock, which would not seem so horribly at variance with cold
+weather as did this Valley of Avilion; for the whole party, taking their
+cue from Osmond, had been wont to speak of Edge always as Avilion.
+
+At Ardnacruan he felt certain that he would regain his normal serenity,
+his cheerful from-day-to-day enjoyment of life; but this afternoon all
+influences seemed combined to make him experience that nameless feeling
+of misery and loss which the Germans call _katzenjammer_. The first
+verse of "James Lee's Wife" was saying itself over and over in his
+head, and he could not forget it. The mare's feet, in their even trot,
+kept time to it, the rolling of the wheels formed a sad, monotonous
+accompaniment.
+
+    "Ah, love, but a day,
+    And the world has changed!
+    The sun's away
+    And the bird estranged.
+    The wind has dropped
+    And the sky's deranged,
+    Summer has stopped."
+
+He wished he had had the sense to leave the place a day before instead
+of a day after the Allonbys. He knew that he had been due at Ardnacruan
+on Tuesday, and to-day was Thursday. Why on earth had he been so
+idiotic, so weak, so altogether contemptible?
+
+Well, it was over now, and he meant for the future to possess his soul,
+untroubled by any distressing emotions; and, meanwhile, the thoughts of
+Wynifred, as she sat in the train, steaming towards London, were almost
+exactly a reproduction of his own.
+
+Every turn of the lanes through which they drove brought back to Claud a
+memory of something which had taken place during the past summer. Here
+was a view they had admired together--here the quaint old gateway,
+half-way down the hill which Wynifred had sketched, the lane sloping so
+abruptly that the back legs of her camp-stool had to be artificially
+supported. In that field Hilda and Jac had laid out tea, and the whole
+party had enjoyed a warm discussion on the subject of family
+shibboleths. It began by Hilda's remarking that poor old Osmond could
+hardly be looked upon as a war-horse any longer; and, on being pressed
+to unravel this dark saying, she had explained with some confusion, that
+_war-horse_ had been Jac's translation of _hors de combat_ at a very
+early age, and that they had always used it since, which led on to
+various other specimens from nursery dictionaries, and much amusing
+nonsense. It was all past now.
+
+In Claud's mind was a bitter thought which has countless times occurred
+to most of us, that the past is absolutely irreclaimable. We can never
+have our good minute again; it is gone. He knew the mood would pass, but
+that did not lessen the suffering while it lasted. Would he ever regret
+the days that were gone, with a regret that should be lifelong--was it
+possible that an hour might dawn in the far future when he should be
+prepared to give all to have that time again, that he might yield to the
+impulses of his heart, and speak as he felt?
+
+    "It will come, I suspect, at the end of life,
+    When you sit alone and review the past."
+
+What nonsense!
+
+As the dog-cart shot in through the gates of Lower House, he shook
+himself, and roused from his morbid reverie.
+
+"How conversational we have both been!" he said, with a laugh.
+
+"Yes," said Henry, gazing round with a sad expression in his kind eyes.
+"We miss those merry girls."
+
+"They seem to enjoy life," observed Claud.
+
+"Yes, indeed; and what makes it so fascinating is the assurance one
+always has of there being a solid foundation under all that fun. Many
+girls with twice their social advantages have not one half their fresh
+enjoyment."
+
+"I believe you are right," was the answer, with a sigh which did not
+escape the other.
+
+"We must not moralise," said the master of Lower House, briskly. "The
+day is dull, but don't let us follow its example. Would you care to walk
+to Edge Willoughby, take tea, and make your adieux?"
+
+"Thanks--yes--I think I should. They have been most hospitable."
+
+"Take a mackintosh," said Mr. Fowler, who had been surveying the
+threatening horizon; "we are going to have a bad night, I believe."
+
+As he spoke, a ray of sunset light, darting through a rift in the watery
+sky, fell on a gleaming white sail some distance out at sea. It recalled
+to Claud his walk home to Poole with Wynifred.
+
+"A yacht, a cutter," said his companion, with anxious interest. "She
+will never be able to make Lyme harbor to-night."
+
+They watched the flashing thing for a minute or two in silence; then the
+rainy gleam faded from the sea, and the sail became again invisible.
+
+They set off for Edge Willoughby, a short ten minutes walk.
+
+Each now made an effort to converse, but with poor success. As they
+passed at the foot of a hill, crowned and flanked with arches, there
+was a rustling noise, and out into the path before them lightly sprang
+Elsa.
+
+Claud had never seen her look more beautiful or more strange. Something
+in her expression arrested his eye.
+
+Since her friendship with the Allonby girls, her whole wardrobe had
+become regenerated, and the beautiful proportions of her fine figure
+were no longer obscured by ill-fitting monstrosities. Her dress was dark
+blue, so was her hat, and she had knotted a soft crimson shawl over her
+chest. The buffetting wind had lent a magnificent glow to her skin, her
+eyes were shining--she had altogether an excited look, as though her
+feelings had been strongly worked upon.
+
+"Why, where have you been, Elsa?" asked her godfather, as they greeted
+her.
+
+"Out for a ramble," she answered, evasively.
+
+"And what direction did your rambles take?"
+
+"Oh, I went here and there. Are you coming to see my aunts?"
+
+"We are; we will walk with you as far as the house. Where's Godfrey?"
+
+She looked up at him--an odd, half defiant look.
+
+"At home, I suppose," she said.
+
+They had not gone far when suddenly, violently, down came the rain, and
+Claud hurriedly covering the girl in his mackintosh, they all took to
+their heels, and ran to the friendly shelter of the house.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXIV.
+
+    Walked up and down, and still walked up and down,
+    And I walked after, and one could not hear
+    A word the other said, for wind and sea
+    That raged and beat and thundered in the night.
+
+    _Brothers and a Sermon._
+
+
+The door was flung wide open by Jane Gollop, who had been anxiously on
+the alert.
+
+"Miss Elaine! Well, to be sure! It's a good thing, that it is, as you
+happened to meet Mr. Fowler! Why--you ain't got wet, not hardly a drop,
+more you 'ave. But where's Master Godfrey?"
+
+"I don't know," said Elsa, shortly.
+
+"You don't know," said Jane, in accents of astonishment. "Why, where did
+you leave him?"
+
+"Hasn't he come in?" asked the girl, in a hard kind of way; and, as she
+spoke, loosening her hat, she went to the mirror which hung against the
+wall of the hall, and passed her hand lightly through the soft masses of
+her hair, slightly dampened by the drenching shower. It was such a new
+trait in her--this attention to appearances--that Mr. Fowler gazed at
+her in sheer astonishment. Her beauty as she stood there was simply
+wonderful. Claud, eyeing her with all his might, was at a loss for a
+reason why he was not in love with her. Her style was not a common one
+among English girls--it was too sumptuous, too splendid. Though
+absolutely a blonde, the lashes which shaded her eyes were dark as
+night. Her complexion was a miracle of warmth and creamy fairness; and
+now that the final charm had come--that conscious life had permeated her
+being--the slowness of her movements, the comparative rarity of her
+speech, were charms of a most fascinating description. She was just
+beginning to understand what power was hers. It seemed as if the thought
+expressed itself in the faint smile, the regal grace with which the hand
+was lifted to the golden coronal of hair. She was absolutely exquisite,
+and yet Claud's only thought concerning her was an inward foreboding of
+the mischief she would work in London.
+
+"Did you and Godfrey go out together?" asked Mr. Fowler at length.
+
+The shadow fell over the lovely face again.
+
+"Yes," she answered shortly.
+
+"And where did you part company?" he went on, somewhat anxiously.
+
+"I--I don't know, quite--I forget."
+
+"I expect they've a bin quarrelling again, sir," observed Jane, with
+severity. "I do not know how it is as Miss Elaine can never get on with
+her brother at all. I'm sure I never see nothing to complain so about--a
+bit wild and rude, as most young gentlemen is, but----"
+
+"Godfrey behaves exceedingly ill," said Mr. Fowler, shortly. "Did you
+have a quarrel, Elsa?"
+
+"Yes, we did. I will never go out with him again, as long as I live,"
+said Elsa, quietly.
+
+"And you parted company?"
+
+"Yes. I ran away from him. My aunts have no right to send him out with
+me." Her face worked, and tears sprang to her eyes. "He insults my
+mother," she said, with a sob.
+
+Her god-father's brow grew darker.
+
+"Never mind, Elsa," he said, in a voice of much feeling. "Let us hope he
+will grow better as he grows older; he is but a little chap."
+
+"I wish I need never set eyes on him again, as long as I live," she
+said, in a low voice, audible to him alone.
+
+"Hush, child! But now, the fact remains that the storm is awful, and
+that, as far as I can make out, the boy is out in it. What is to be
+done? Come and let us tell the aunts."
+
+They entered the dining-room, where tea was already spread out in
+tempting guise. The Misses Willoughby turned to greet their guests, and
+Miss Charlotte in some anxiety demanded,
+
+"Where is Godfrey?"
+
+Her perturbation was great when the situation was explained.
+
+"My dear Mr. Fowler! That young child--so delicate too! Out in this
+storm of rain! He will never find his way home, it will be dark
+directly! What shall I do? Penton must be sent after him. Elsa, tell me
+at once where you left him."
+
+The crimson color mounted to Elsa's brow.
+
+"I--I don't exactly remember--I wasn't taking much notice," she
+faltered.
+
+"But which direction did you take? At least you can inform me of that. I
+am sure it is hard to believe that any girl of your age could be so
+foolish; speak!"
+
+"We went along the Quarry Road," said Elsa, slowly, her eyes fixed on
+Claud, who stood looking at the ground.
+
+"And where then?"
+
+"We were going to Hooken for blackberries, but I thought it looked like
+rain, so I turned back."
+
+"And Godfrey did not accompany you?"
+
+A pause.
+
+"No."
+
+"He must have gone on to Brent," said Miss Charlotte, with conviction.
+
+Brent was the tiny fishing-village which lay in a curve of the cliff
+between Edge Valley and Stanton.
+
+"Does Godfrey know his way to Brent?" asked Mr. Fowler of Elsa.
+
+"Oh, yes--he often goes there--to the 'Welcome Traveller,'" she
+answered.
+
+"I think he is most probably there now," said he, turning to Miss
+Charlotte, "and, if so, you may be easy, they will not send him home in
+this tempest."
+
+"But he is very wilful, he may insist on trying to come home, and, if
+so, he will be lost, he could never stand against the wind across the
+top of Hooken," said Miss Charlotte, full of apprehension.
+
+Her attachment to Godfrey was a forcible illustration of the
+capriciousness of love. There had been every reason why she should
+dislike him, she had been fully prepared to do so. She had never seen
+one single trait in him to induce her to alter this preconceived
+opinion; he had openly derided her and set her authority at naught ever
+since their first meeting, yet she was fond of him.
+
+Her looks testified the deepest concern. As the scream of the storm-wind
+dashed against the window of the warm, comfortable room, she shivered.
+
+"Elsa," she cried, "how dared you leave that child out by himself? You
+are not to be trusted in the least! Where did you leave him--answer
+me--was it on the cliffs?"
+
+"No!" cried Elsa, sharply, "it was not. He would not be likely to go by
+the cliffs, it is twice as long, you know it is. He went along the
+Quarry Road, I tell you. He is gone to Brent."
+
+"Make yourself easy, Miss Charlotte," said Mr. Fowler, "he is not likely
+to try the cliff road home in weather like this. He will come by the
+quarries, if they let him come at all. How long had you parted from him
+when we met you, Elsa?"
+
+"Oh, more than an hour, I should think."
+
+"There, you see! He is as safely sheltered as we are by now!"
+
+Miss Charlotte went restlessly to the window.
+
+"I am anxious; he is so delicate, and so rash," she said. "I shall send
+Penton out along the Quarry Road."
+
+"I will walk to Brent and back for you, Miss Willoughby," said Claud, in
+his quiet way.
+
+"My dear fellow," said Henry Fowler, "you will scarcely keep your feet."
+
+"Oh, nonsense about that. I'm all right--I have my mackintosh here. I
+enjoy a good sou'-wester."
+
+"I'll come with you," said Henry at once.
+
+Of course the ladies protested, but the gentlemen were firm; and, having
+first taken something to keep the cold out, they started forth into all
+the excitement of a furious gale on the Devonshire coast.
+
+Once fairly out in it, Claud felt that he would not have missed it for
+worlds. There was such a stimulus in the seething motion of the
+atmosphere, such a weird fascination in the screaming of the blast and
+the hoarse roaring of the distant ocean.
+
+"This is rather a wild-goose chase," yelled Henry in his companion's
+ear.
+
+"Never mind; what's the odds so long as we can set their minds at rest,"
+bawled Claud in return.
+
+"Naught comes to no harm--the young imp is all right enough," howled
+Henry; and then, having strained their vocal chords to the utmost, any
+further attempt at conversation was given up as impossible.
+
+They passed the narrow gorge where the mouth of the quarries lay and
+where the limekilns cast a weird gloom upon the night. The streaming
+rain hissed and fizzed as it fell upon the glowing surface, and,
+altogether, Claud thought, the whole scene was something like the last
+act of the _Walkuere_--he almost felt as if he could hear the passionate
+shiver of Wagnerian violins in the rush of the mighty tempest.
+
+In the low, sheltered road, they could just manage to keep their feet.
+Every now and then they paused, and shouted Godfrey's name at the utmost
+pitch of their voices; but they heard no response; and at last staggered
+down the little stony high street of Brent, without having met a single
+soul.
+
+Usually the narrow street was musical with the murmur of the stream that
+flowed down its midst. To-night the storm-fiend overpowered all such
+gentle sounds. Claud, blindly stumbling in the dark, managed to go over
+his ankles in running water, but quickly regained his footing, and was
+right glad when the lights of the "Welcome, Traveller," streamed out
+upon the gloom.
+
+They swung open the door. The bar was deserted, and Mr. Fowler's call
+only brought a female servant from the kitchen. Every soul in the town,
+she told them, was down at the quay--the word to haul up the boats had
+been cried through the village at dusk, and now the gale had come, and
+the fishing smacks had not come in.
+
+Claud remembered how they had sat on the cliff black berrying only two
+days before, and watched the fishermen start, how the boats with their
+graceful red brown sails had danced and dipped on the sparkling blue
+water, alive with diamond reflections of the broad sun.
+
+And now--the cruel, crawling foam, the black abyss of howling
+destruction, and the frantic wives assembled on the quay, watching "for
+those who will never come back to the town."
+
+The inn servant was positive that Master Brabourne had not been in Brent
+that afternoon or evening, but Mr. Fowler, not quite relying on the
+accuracy of her statement, determined to make his way down to the shore.
+
+The village was congested with excitement, as they approached they could
+dimly descry a dark crowd and tossing lanterns, and could hear the
+terrific thunder of the billows as they burst upon the beach. Then,
+suddenly, as they hurried on, up through the murky night rushed a
+rocket, a streak of vivid light, that struck on the heart like the cry
+of a human voice for help. Another--another--it was clear that some
+frantic feeling agitated the swaying crowd. As Claud dashed forward, he
+uttered a short exclamation.
+
+"The yacht!"
+
+"Good God, yes, it must be!" cried Henry Fowler in horror.
+
+In a moment they were down in the thick of it all, seizing the arm of
+one of the weatherbeaten fellows present, and asking what was amiss?
+
+It was the yacht, as Claud had divined, and, when her exact situation
+had been explained to him, he felt his heart fail at the thought of her
+deadly peril, at the (to him) new sensation of standing within a few
+yards of a band of living human beings hovering over the wide spread
+jaws of death.
+
+Brent lay in a break of the chalk cliffs which was more then
+half-a-mile in width. Through this tunnel the unbroken might of the wind
+rushed with terrific force, sweeping vehemently inland up the flat
+river-valley, and seeming to carry the whole sea in its train. The very
+violence of each wave, as it broke, made the bystanders stagger back a
+few paces; the tide was rolling in with a rapidity which seemed
+miraculous; already it had driven them back almost as far as the
+market-place, and it was not yet high water.
+
+There was but one hope for the strange vessel. Change of tide had been
+known to bring change of wind; therein lay her solitary chance. If, with
+the ebb, the wind shifted its quarter and kept her off shore, the sea
+was not too heavy for her to live in; but if no change took place--if
+the waves continued to roll in for another hour as they were rolling
+now, with that screaming blast lashing them on as though the Eumenides
+were behind them, no change of tide could avail--no ebb could save the
+cutter from being driven on the sunken coast-rocks, and from being
+steadily beaten to pieces.
+
+Was there a chance? Would it happen, this change of wind for which
+everyone was waiting in such an agony of expectation? In breathless
+horror the young man watched, parting, as he did so, with a few
+delusions he had previously cherished respecting the Devonshire climate.
+He had held a vague belief that storm and tempest were the portion only
+of "wild Tintagel on the Cornish coast," and that here, among the warm
+red cliffs, no roaring billows lifted their heads. He had now to hear
+how, once upon a time, the inhabitants of Brent built themselves a
+harbor and a pier, and how in one night the sea tore them up, dashed
+them to pieces, and bore the fragments far inland; and of how the
+Spanish wrecks were hurled so frequently on the coast that the
+fisher-folk intermarried with the refugees, which union resulted in the
+lovely, dark-haired, blue-eyed race whose beauty had so struck Lady
+Mabel Wynch-Frere.
+
+Meanwhile, the lifeboat's crew stood with their boat all ready to
+launch, if they could see the smallest hope of making any way in such a
+sea. One old mariner watched the scarcely discernible movements of the
+yacht with a telescope. She was under jib and trysail only, the
+intention of the crew being evidently, if it were possible, to work her
+to windward, and so keep her off shore.
+
+"Them aboard of her knows what to du," said the old salt, with
+approbation. "They ain't going daown without showing a bit o' fight
+first."
+
+"Why on earth don't they take in all their canvas?" cried the
+inexperienced Claud.
+
+"If they did, they'd come straight in, stem on, and be aground in five
+minutes or less," was the response.
+
+It was difficult, however, to see of what possible use any amount of
+knowledge of navigation could be to the fated craft. Slowly she was
+being borne to her doom by the remorseless gale. She pitched and rolled
+every moment nearer and still nearer to the coast--to the low sunken
+rocks which would grind her to powder, and where no lifeboat could reach
+her.
+
+The women prayed aloud, with sobs and shrieks of sympathy. To Claud it
+was like a chapter in a novel, a scene in a play. He had never before
+seen real people--people in whose midst he stood--go mad with pity and
+terror. He had never before heard women cry out, as these did, straight
+to the Great Father in their need.
+
+"Oh, Lord Christ, save 'em! Have mercy on 'em, poor souls!" screamed an
+old fishwife at his side, bent with age and infirmity.
+
+It seemed as if he could hardly do better than silently echo her prayer:
+
+"God save all poor souls lost in the dark!"
+
+The moments of suspense lengthened. The knot of spectators held their
+breath. It would be high water directly, and the gale was still driving
+in the frantic sea, boiling and eddying. The night was cleft by the
+momentary gleam of another rocket sent up from the yacht. Though
+evidently terribly distressed, she did not seem disabled, and rose from
+crest to crest of the mountainous rollers with a marvellous lightness.
+It was easy to see that she surprised all the old salts who were
+watching her. As she rolled nearer, her proportions were dimly to be
+seen. In the gloom she seemed like a great quivering white bird,
+palpitating and throbbing as if alive and sentient.
+
+"Eh, what a beauty, what a beauty! What a cruel shame if she is lost,"
+gasped one of the men in tones of real anguish.
+
+Then, suddenly, from further along the crowd came a shout faintly heard
+above the storm. Claud could not distinguish the words, but a vague
+sense of atmospheric change came over him. A manifest sensation ran
+through the assembly; and it seemed as if there were a momentary
+cessation of the blinding gusts of spray which had drenched him.
+
+A fresh stillness fell on the crowd, broken only by the sobbing
+whistling of the wind, which faltered, died down, burst forth again, and
+then seemed to go wailing off over the sea.
+
+What had happened? Claud steadied his nerves and looked round
+bewildered. Surely that wave which broke was not so high as the last. It
+seemed at first as though the ocean had become a whirlpool, as though
+conflicting currents were sucking and eddying among the coast-rocks till
+the force of the tide was broken and divided. He turned to look for
+Henry Fowler, but could not see him. Moving further along the wet track
+left by one of the highest billows on the road, still clutching his cap
+with both hands, he found him presently superintending the lifeboat men,
+who were making a start at last.
+
+There was a faint cheer as the boat was launched, and the receding wave
+carried her down, down, with that ghastly sucking noise which sounds as
+though the deep thirsted for its prey. Claud held his breath. He thought
+the next wave would break over her; but no! The crew bent to their oars,
+and up she rose, in full sight of the eager multitude, then again
+disappeared, only to be seen once more on the summit of a further crest.
+And now there was no question but that the wind was shifting. Silence
+fell on the watchers; silence which lasted long. Breathlessly they eyed
+the dim white yacht, which now did not seem to approach nearer the
+coast.
+
+In the long interval, memory returned to Mr. Cranmer, memory of the
+purpose for which he had come there. Where was Godfrey? Nowhere to be
+seen. Making his way up to Mr. Fowler, he remarked:
+
+"Don't you see anything of the boy?"
+
+Henry gave a start of recollection, and cast his eyes vaguely over the
+crowd. A few minutes' search sufficed to show that Godfrey was not
+there. By the light of a friendly lantern he looked at his watch. It was
+past ten o'clock, and the thought of the anxiety at Edge Willoughby
+smote his conscience.
+
+"We must leave this," he said, reluctantly, "and go back over the top of
+the cliff. It does not rain now, and thank God, the wind is falling."
+
+"Will the yacht live?" asked Claud.
+
+"Yes, please God, she'll do now," answered Henry. "But I daresay the
+crew will come ashore; they have all been very near death; perhaps they
+don't know, as well as I do, how near."
+
+"Do you know the way over the cliff?"
+
+"Know it? I think so. I could walk blindfold over most of the land near
+here," returned the other, drily.
+
+"I do wonder what can have become of the child," said Claud, dubiously.
+
+"Little cur!" said the ordinary gentle Henry, viciously. "I am not at
+all sorry if he has a fair good fright; it may read him a lesson."
+
+Unwillingly they turned from the scene of interest, and began their
+scramble up the chalky slopes, rendered as slippery as ice by the heavy
+rains. Neither had dined that night, and both were feeling exhausted
+after the tension of the last few hours. They walked silently forward,
+each filled with vague forbodings respecting Godfrey.
+
+The wind was still what, inland, would be called a gale, too high to
+make conversation possible. Overhead, rifts in the night-black clouds
+were beginning to appear; the waning moon must be by now above the
+horizon, for the jagged edges of the vapors were silver.
+
+Claud was deeply meditating over his night's experience; it seemed years
+since he parted from Wynifred that afternoon. How much had happened
+since!
+
+His foot struck against something as he walked. Being tired, he was
+walking carelessly, and, as the grass was intensely slippery, he came
+down on his hands and knees, making use of a forcible expression.
+
+Thus brought into the near neighborhood of the object which caused his
+fall, he discovered that it was neither a stick nor a stone, but a
+book--a book lying out on the cliff, and reduced to a pulp by the
+torrents of rain which had soaked it.
+
+"I say, Fowler, what's this?" he said eagerly, regaining his feet, the
+whole of the front of his person plastered with a whitish slime. "Here's
+a book! Does that help us--eh?"
+
+Mr. Fowler turned quickly.
+
+"Let me look," he said.
+
+To look was easier than to see, by that light; but, by applying the dark
+lantern which, they carried, they saw it was a book they knew--a copy of
+the "Idylls of the King," which Osmond had given to Elsa, and which was
+hardly ever out of her hands.
+
+"Strange!" ejaculated Henry, "very strange! She said they had not been
+on the cliffs--did she not say so, Cranmer?"
+
+"Undoubtedly."
+
+"She must have left it yesterday."
+
+"We were all at Heriton Castle yesterday."
+
+"Well--some time. Anyhow, it is her book--here is the name blotted and
+blurred, in the title-page. Let us search round here a little," he
+added, his voice betraying a sudden, nameless uneasiness.
+
+The search was fruitless. They called till the rocks re-echoed, but in
+vain. Up and down they walked, in and out among the drenched brambles,
+slipping hither and thither in the chalky mire. At last they gave it up.
+
+"We must go back and tell them we cannot find him," said Henry, wearily.
+
+Standing side by side on the summit of the heights, they paused, and
+gazed, as if by mutual consent, seawards.
+
+A pale silver glow came stealing as they looked across the heaving
+waters. The full dark clouds parted, and through the rift appeared a
+reach of clear dark sky. Wider and wider grew the star-powdered space,
+till at last the waning, misshapen-looking moon emerged, veiled only by
+a passing scud of vapor.
+
+Below them the turbid billows caught the light and glittered; and, among
+them, riding proudly and in safety, was the beautiful yacht, like a
+white swan brooding over the tumultuous sea, which was still running
+high enough to make the noble little vessel roll and pitch considerably
+at her anchor.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXV.
+
+    I? what I answered? As I live
+    I never fancied such a thing
+    As answer possible to give!
+    What says the body, when they spring
+    Some monstrous torture engine's whole
+    Weight on it? No more says the soul.
+
+    _Count Gismond._
+
+
+In the breezy glitter of the sunshiny morning, a crowd stood on the
+curving beach of Edge Valley in a state of perplexity something
+resembling a pack of hounds at fault.
+
+Day had dawned, full of light and motion. Billowy masses of white
+cumulus clouds sailed rapidly over the deep blue sky. The thick turbid
+sea rolled in, casting up mire and dirt from its depths. News had come
+to Brent that the fishing-smacks had found a refuge in Lyme harbour, and
+gay chatter filled the streets, as the happy wives and mothers ran to
+and fro, laughing as they thought on their terrors of the previous
+night.
+
+Joy had come in the morning to all but the inhabitants of Edge
+Willoughby. Godfrey was still missing, and there was no news of him.
+
+Mr. Fowler feared there could be but one solution of the mystery. The
+boy must have dared the cliff-path, and made a false step, or been swept
+off bodily by the gale. The sea, which had spared the yacht, most
+probably had drowned this heir to a great fortune.
+
+The strangest part of the affair was the callousness shown by Elsa. It
+almost seemed as if she were simply relieved by the absence of her
+brother, and careless as to its cause. She had, however, come down to
+the shore with her godfather, and stood, like one half dazed, among the
+villagers, answering with painful hesitation the questions put to her as
+to where she had last seen Godfrey.
+
+The yacht was brought up about half a mile off shore, and an examination
+of her by telescope had proved her to be a very smart and well-found
+vessel--a most perfect specimen of her kind. She was painted quite
+white, with a gold streak running round her, and she was flying a black
+distinguishing flag, upon which appeared a white swan with outspread
+wings, and an ensign which appeared to be foreign. The crew could be
+seen busy about the deck, repairing damages to paint and gear from the
+gale overnight. Just as Henry had dispatched two search-parties, one
+along the cliffs, the other along the shore, it was seen that a gig was
+leaving the yacht's side, and approaching with rapid strokes, pulled by
+two men, and a third steering. Mr. Fowler waited, knowing that most
+probably some injury had been sustained during the gale of the previous
+night, and that he might be able to make an offer of help.
+
+As soon as the keel touched the shingle, the man in the stern-sheets
+stood up, and asked if there were an inn in the village. His English was
+fair, but his accent virulently German. Being answered in the
+affirmative, he next proceeded, somewhat to the astonishment of the
+crowd, to ask if there were a magistrate living near.
+
+"I am a Justice of the Peace," said Mr. Fowler, amid a general
+sensation.
+
+The man touched his cap. His master, Mr. Percivale, would be very glad
+of a few moments' conversation, if the gentleman's leisure served. He
+had a statement to make if the Justice could wait, he would be on shore
+in twenty minutes.
+
+Henry, wondering greatly as to the statement he was to hear, inquired
+how much water the yacht drew, and, on being informed, explained that,
+if Mr. Percivale chose, he could steer her right in, within a few feet
+of the shore, owing to the peculiarly sudden shelve of the bay.
+
+The man touched his cap again, and, having raised the popular feeling to
+fever heat by a scarcely intelligible hint that he believed there was
+murder in the case, pushed off, and rowed back to the yacht as fast as
+he had come.
+
+The crowd on the beach had increased. Most of the villagers had seen the
+boat leave the yacht, and hurried down in great eagerness to know what
+was going forward.
+
+Doubtful as to what course to pursue, Mr. Fowler stood irresolute in
+their midst, Elsa, Miss Emily Willoughby, Miss Charlotte Willoughby, and
+Claud Cranmer at his side.
+
+Suddenly a sound of wheels was heard grinding sharply on the sea-road.
+Involuntarily all heads were turned in this new direction, and it was
+seen that one of the Stanton station-flies had come to a stand-still
+just opposite the assembled people, and that a lady and gentleman were
+hastily alighting.
+
+On hearing that the name of the owner of the yacht was Percivale, Mr.
+Cranmer roused himself from the reverie into which he had fallen. This,
+then, was the Swan, the mysterious yacht of which everyone had been
+talking all the summer, and whose owner was so obstinately
+uncommunicative and unsociable. The idea of meeting the hero of the hour
+brought a certain excitement with it; but these thoughts were put to
+flight by the sudden arrival on the scene of the two new actors. In a
+flash he recognised Frederick Orton, whom he had occasionally seen in
+company with Colonel Wynch-Frere at Sandown; and this, of course, was
+his wife. Whence had they sprung? They were believed to be in Homburg;
+and Claud felt a strange sinking of the heart as he realised in what an
+unfortunate moment they appeared.
+
+Ottilie sprang vehemently from the carriage, looking round her with
+flashing eyes. Evidently she was greatly excited. Moving hastily towards
+the group, she suddenly stopped short, asking, in her fine contralto
+voice:
+
+"Is Miss Charlotte Willoughby here?"
+
+With an assenting murmur, the throng divided right and left, and she
+moved on again, till she stood within a few inches of the lady in
+question. Her husband, after a word to the driver, followed her.
+
+"Miss Willoughby, I am Mrs. Frederick Orton," she said, every word of
+her deep utterance distinctly audible to everyone present. "We are just
+arrived from the Continent, and, in consequence of complaints of unkind
+treatment received in letters from our nephew, we travelled straight
+down here. We have been up to the house, seen your eldest sister, and
+been by her informed that the boy is missing since yesterday. Where is
+he?" She raised her magnificent voice slightly, and it seemed to pierce
+through Henry Fowler's brain. "Where is he? What have you done with him?
+Bring him back to me, instantly."
+
+Silence.
+
+The brisk wave broke splashing and foaming along the beach. The white
+fleecy cloud drew off from the sun which it had momentarily obscured.
+
+Miss Charlotte helplessly confronted her antagonist for a moment, and
+then burst into tears. All Edge Valley held its breath. That Miss
+Charlotte Willoughby could weep was a hypothesis too wild ever to have
+been hazarded among them.
+
+Frederick Orton, in his faultless summer travelling attire, a look of
+anxiety on his weak, handsome face, stood scanning the group, bowing
+slightly to Claud, whom he vaguely recognised, and then letting his eye
+wander to Elsa.
+
+There his gaze rivetted itself with a strange fascination. The girl was
+too like her father, Valentine Brabourne, for him to be ignorant of her
+identity; he partly hated her for it. Her beauty, too, took him utterly
+by surprise. He had heard that she was pretty, but for this unique and
+superb fairness he was quite unprepared.
+
+His wife, after waiting a minute, or two repeated her question.
+
+"What have you done with Godfrey?" she cried.
+
+Mr. Fowler stepped forward, raising his hat, and meeting her scornful
+eye steadily.
+
+"Who are you?" the eye seemed to demand. He answered, with his
+accustomed gentleness:
+
+"My name is Fowler, madam, and I am at present engaged in the same
+pursuit as yourself--a search-for Godfrey. The Misses Willoughby will
+have told you how he and his sister went out for a walk together
+yesterday, and missed each other----"
+
+She pounced upon his words.
+
+"His sister! Yes, his sister! Where is she?"
+
+Sweeping half round, she confronted Elsa on the instant. The two pairs
+of eyes met--the scorching dark ones, the radiant grey. In each pair, as
+it rested, on the other, was a menace. It was war to the knife between
+Ottilie Orton and her niece from that moment.
+
+"So that is his sister," faltered Godfrey's aunt at length. "Do you
+know," cried she, suddenly finding voice again--"do you know that you
+are--yes, you are directly responsible for whatever may have happened to
+Godfrey. I know, Elaine Brabourne, more than you imagine."
+
+A moment of horror, cold sickly horror, crept for one dark instant into
+Claud's brain as he saw the ashy pallor which overspread Elsa's lace.
+She seemed to reel where she stood.
+
+"No," she panted, incoherently, "no, it is not true! I never did----"
+
+Her godfather grasped her shoulder with a firm hold.
+
+"Do not attempt to answer Mrs. Orton," he said, in a voice which sounded
+unlike his own. "She is over-tired--excited. Presently she will regret
+her words."
+
+"Insolence!" said Ottilie, flinging a look at him. "Frederick, will you
+hear me spoken to like this?"
+
+"I think it would be--a--wiser to say no more at present," returned her
+husband, hesitatingly. "Had we not better have a little more light
+thrown on the subject first?"
+
+"More light? What more light do you want than that girl's ashy, guilty
+face, and the authority of this letter of Godfrey's?" she rejoined,
+vehemently. "Did he not say----"
+
+"Madam, if you have any accusation to lodge, I must desire you to choose
+a more fitting occasion," said Mr. Fowler, peremptorily. "Here, in the
+presence of these people, in your present state of agitation, you are
+hardly able to speak dispassionately. As no one yet knows of what they
+are accused, your charges are, so far, fired into the air. Mr. Orton,
+what do you wish me to do?"
+
+"Why, find the boy, I suppose. There'll be the devil to pay if he
+doesn't turn up," observed Mr. Orton; adding, as if to waive any
+unpleasant impression his speech might leave: "Why, Jove, there's a
+yacht coming right in shore. Won't she be aground?"
+
+"Nay, she's right enough. The bay's deep enough to float one of more
+than her tonnage," returned Mr. Fowler; and for the moment everyone's
+attention was given to the movements of the _Swan_.
+
+The sun streamed down on her dazzling white decks. Nothing more
+inviting, more exquisite, could be imagined. The curve of her bows was
+the perfection of grace; the polished brass of her binnacle and fittings
+gave back every beam that fell upon them.
+
+Half reclining over the rail aft was a young man with folded arms and
+face intent upon the manoeuvres of his crew. His head was slightly
+raised, and, as the yacht luffed up gently to the breeze, his profile
+was turned to the gazers on shore.
+
+It was precisely such a profile as might be one's ideal of a Sir
+Percivale--half Viking, half saint; not a Greek profile, for it was cut
+sharply inwards below the brow, the nose springing out with a slightly
+aquiline curve. The chin was oval, not square, as far as could be seen,
+but it was partially obscured by a short pointed golden moustache and
+beard, just inclining to red. The shape of the head, indicated strongly
+against the light beyond, showed both grace and power. His pose was full
+of ease and unconsciousness. He seemed hardly aware of the group on the
+beach, but kept his eyes fixed on his men, giving every now and then an
+order in German. At last the chain cable rattled out, and the dainty
+little vessel swung round, head to wind. Her owner roused himself, and
+stood upright, showing a stature of over six feet.
+
+He wore a white flannel shirt and trousers, a short crimson sash being
+knotted round his waist. Very leisurely he put on his white peaked cap,
+then took a dark blue serge yachting coat and slipped his arms into it,
+moving slowly forward meanwhile to the gangway. A wooden contrivance,
+forming a kind of bridge, with a handrail, was pushed out by the crew;
+and one of the longshoremen pressed eagerly forward to make it firm.
+
+Mr. Percivale stepped upon it, and walked, still with that impassive,
+pre-occupied air, forward towards the waiting crowd.
+
+Now it could be seen that his eyes were bright and vivid, of the very
+deepest blue--that blue called the violet, which shows darkly from a
+distance. His hair, with a distinct shade of red in its lustre, was a
+mass of small soft curls, close to the head. His complexion was fair and
+clear, just touched with tan, but naturally pale; his features
+excessively finely cut.
+
+"A man of mark, to know next time you saw," quoted Claud inwardly, as
+the stranger paused.
+
+The dark blue eyes roved over the crowd but for one swift instant. Then,
+suddenly, they met the glance of a pair of passionate grey ones--eyes
+which spoke, which seemed to cry aloud for sympathy--eyes set in such a
+face as the owner of the _Swan_ had never yet looked on. As the two
+glances met, they became rivetted, each on the other. There was a
+pause, which to Elsa seemed to last for hours, but which in reality
+occupied only a few seconds; then Mr. Fowler went forward and asked,
+
+"You are the owner of the _Swan_?"
+
+"Yes; and you, if I rightly understood Bergman, are a Justice of the
+Peace?"
+
+"I am. Fowler is my name."
+
+"I really do not know," said the stranger, his eyes again wandering
+towards Elsa in the background, "whether you are the proper person with
+whom to lodge my information, but perhaps you will kindly arrange all
+that for me. I merely felt that I could not leave the neighborhood
+without telling you what my men found this morning on the cliffs."
+
+The silence, the breathless hush which had fallen on all present was
+almost horrible; the very sea, the noisy breeze seemed subdued for the
+moment. Mr. Fowler's face stiffened.
+
+"We were lying midway between Brent and this place early this morning,"
+went on the stranger who, to judge by his speech, was certainly English,
+"and my crew were examining the cliff with the glasses, when their
+attention was caught by something lying on the grass. It was a dark
+object, and after watching it for some time, one of the men declared
+that it moved. At last they asked my permission to go and examine the
+spot, which I willingly gave. They scaled the cliff----"
+
+"Then what they saw was not at the _foot_ of the cliff?" burst in Claud,
+breathlessly.
+
+"No. It was on the summit. It was the dead body of a boy."
+
+Elsa gave a wild cry and threw up her arms.
+
+Mr. Fowler caught her to him, holding her golden head against his
+breast, stroking down her hair, murmuring to her with parched lips. Mrs.
+Orton never moved; she stood like a pale Nemesis, her eyes fixed on the
+trembling girl; and down from the breezy heights came the wind, singing
+and whistling, making all the poppies dance among the stubble, and the
+bright clouds dash over the vivid sky in racy succession.
+
+"Go home, Elsa darling--let Mr. Cranmer take you home," whispered Henry.
+
+"No! no! I want to hear everything!" she cried, in anguish.
+
+The stranger's eyes dilated with a wonderful pity as he looked at her.
+
+"I am sorry to give her such pain," he said, at length slowly, in his
+gentle voice.
+
+"Go on," said Henry, hoarsely. "Go on--what did your men do?"
+
+"They satisfied themselves that the boy was dead--that he had been dead
+many hours. When they were sure of this, they left the body as they
+found it, thinking perhaps they had better not meddle with it. The cause
+of death was apparently hemorrhage of the lungs, but it had been brought
+on, they guessed, by a violent blow on the back. The body, when they
+found it, was lying in what looked like an attempt by some very
+unskilful hands, to hollow out a hole and cover it with bramble
+branches, as one branch lay under the corpse. The gale had of course
+blown away anything which might have concealed the ghastly secret. About
+thirty feet from the spot was a large stain of blood, partly obliterated
+by rain."
+
+"Murder will out," said Mrs. Orton, slowly, fixing her burning eyes on
+Elsa. Theatrical as her manner was, it scarcely seemed too emphatic at
+this fearful crisis. "Yes! no wonder she cowers! No wonder she is
+transfixed with horror! I say," she went on, raising her voice a
+little--only a little, yet every accent penetrated to the very outskirts
+of the crowd. "I say that Elaine Brabourne is her brother's murderer."
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXVI.
+
+                          Then I knew
+    That I was saved. I never met
+    His face before, but, at first view,
+    I felt quite sure that God had set
+    Himself to Satan: who would spend
+    A minute's mistrust on the end?
+
+    _Count Gismond._
+
+
+"It is an infamous falsehood!"
+
+Every one turned in the direction of the speaker. Elsa, who had sunk on
+the ground, clinging to Henry Fowler's knees, made a sudden movement,
+and held out her hands.
+
+It is very seldom, in our prosaic century, that a man first meets a
+woman in such circumstances--first sees her with all the restraints of
+conventionality stripped clean away--with helpless, appealing anguish
+written in her eyes.
+
+To Percivale it seemed as if the whole scene dated back for about six
+centuries, as though he were a knight-errant, one of Arthur's knights,
+coming suddenly upon a distressed maiden, who claimed his help as her
+divine right. A long dreadful moment had elapsed between Mrs. Orton's
+accusation and his reply, a moment which he had expected would have been
+seized either by Mr. Fowler or the young man who stood by.
+
+But no. Both were silent, for the same fatal reason. They both thought
+it possible, knowing what provocation had been Elsa's, that, in a moment
+of passion, she had struck blindly. But the sound of the stranger's
+frank, fearless tones seemed, for no reason at all, to make Henry feel
+ashamed of himself. He stooped to Elsa and lifted her to her feet.
+
+"Take courage, my child, tell the truth," he said, tenderly.
+
+Mrs. Orton and Mr. Percivale stood facing each other.
+
+"May I ask by what right you are meddling in this affair, sir?" asked
+Ottilie, with studied insolence. "What do you know of the matter? How
+can you possibly presume to give an opinion? If I might venture to make
+a suggestion to so grand a gentleman, it would be that you return to
+your vessel, and continue that cruise which you so charitably
+interrupted to bring us this awful intelligence."
+
+Percivale never moved his large, calm eyes from her face; but, slowly
+removing his cap from his bright head, made her a graceful bow.
+
+"With all possible aversion to disobeying a lady's commands, madam, I
+must decline to take your thoughtful suggestion," he said, courteously.
+"I have just told you, in hasty words which were the result of a
+moment's indignation, that I believe the statement you just now made to
+be false. Whilst apologising for the manner in which I expressed myself,
+I beg to say that I meant every word I said; and you will thus see that
+I have rendered it impossible for me to leave this place, until it is
+proved that I am right and you are wrong."
+
+She laughed insultingly, she was too excited to know exactly what she
+said or did.
+
+"You will have to stay a long time," said she, with a sneer. "Why, look
+at Elaine Brabourne! Look at her cowering there! Doesn't her attitude
+speak for itself? Do you wish to be better acquainted with the
+situation? Will it satisfy you to be told that a fortune of eighty
+thousand pounds comes to this girl on her brother's death, and that it
+is only a week since she was made aware of the fact? And if I say
+further that she wants to marry a beggarly artist, and that only my
+little Godfrey's frail life stood between----"
+
+"Ottilie, Ottilie, hold your tongue, my dear girl," said Frederick,
+nervously. "You are overwrought, you must take some rest, and leave me
+to search out this affair."
+
+"Leave you!" She wrenched herself away scornfully. "Leave _you_ to do
+it? Why, you could be made to say black was white in ten minutes by
+anyone who would discuss the question with you. Well"--to
+Percivale--"are you still mad enough to say that the matter admits of a
+doubt?"
+
+The perfect quiet of his answer was a most complete contrast to her
+violence.
+
+"It is unfortunate," he said, "that the consideration of the same
+circumstances should lead us to diametrically opposite conclusions; but
+so it is. You consider that the young lady's present appearance and
+attitude argues guilt; to me it strongly indicates innocence. This shows
+how necessary it is that I should have proof of the truth of my view,
+which proof I shall immediately take steps to find."
+
+Henry Fowler roused himself; his face seemed to have grown ten years
+older during the last half-hour.
+
+"I am grateful to you, sir," he said to Percivale, with a piteous
+humility. "Elsa, my darling, you must go home at once."
+
+Raising her lovely head from his shoulder, she stood upright, for the
+first time since her accusation. She looked straight at the stranger,
+holding out her hands.
+
+"It is false--every word they said about me," she faltered. "I could
+tell you----" here her voice broke.
+
+Holding his hat in his left hand, he grasped both her small hands in his
+right, and, bending low, kissed them respectfully.
+
+"I want no assurances," he said. "I do not even want you to tell me of
+your innocence. I know it; and all these people, who have heard you
+falsely accused, shall hear justice done if God grant me life and
+strength to do it." He smiled for the first time--a quiet, grave smile
+which irradiated all his face. "I do not even know your name," he said;
+"but I know that you are innocent."
+
+Miss Charlotte, white and subdued, came up and took the girl's hand.
+
+Elsa moved slightly, as if she were dreaming, and then smiled back into
+Percivale's eyes, a smile of perfect trust, as though an angel had
+appeared to champion her.
+
+It was her only leave-taking: she never spoke; but, turning, walked
+through the assembled peasants with a mien as dignified, as consciously
+noble, as that of Marie-Antoinette at her trial.
+
+"They can take our fly--I am going along the cliffs to find my boy,"
+said Mrs. Orton, with a burst of tears.
+
+Her husband and Claud followed the three ladies to the carriage. Henry
+Fowler was left face to face with the stranger.
+
+"God help us," he said, brokenly. "What is to be done?"
+
+"The first thing," said Percivale, quietly, "is to decide whether the
+boy found by my crew is the brother of Miss--Miss----"
+
+"Brabourne,--true. But he is only her half-brother."
+
+"The next thing will be to prove----"
+
+"It is hopeless," cried Henry, helplessly, as they moved away from the
+crowd together. "You don't know, as I do, the weight of evidence against
+her. You do not--pardon me--understand the circumstances."
+
+"No. For my enlightenment I must apply first to you. As the matter seems
+to be a family one, and as I am an utter stranger, I shall consider you
+fully justified if you decline to afford me any help at all. But I must
+warn you that, if I cannot get information from you, I shall apply for
+it elsewhere. It will take longer; but I have pledged my word."
+
+Henry surveyed him with an interest bordering on admiration.
+
+"I shall tell you anything you ask," he said. "Our first meeting has
+been too far beyond the limits of conventionalities for us to be bound
+by any rules. God bless you for your unhesitating defence of my poor
+little girl. I was too crushed--I knew too much to be able to speak
+promptly, as you did; and I terribly fear that when you have heard all I
+can tell you, though you may not waver in your belief in her, you will
+think the case against her looks very grave."
+
+They paused, and turned to watch Mr. and Mrs. Orton, and Claud, who were
+approaching. Mr. Percivale called to one of the crew of the _Swan_ to
+come ashore and lead the way; and after the party had been yet further
+augmented by the Edge Valley policeman, they set forth towards the
+cliffs.
+
+Ottilie hurried on first, sweeping her husband in her train. Claud, Mr.
+Fowler, and Percivale walked more slowly, and as they went, the latter
+was put in full possession of the facts of the case, so far as they
+could be known.
+
+He disagreed entirely with the inference that Elsa's odd conduct of the
+preceding day, and seeming uncertainty as to where she had parted from
+her brother, was a sign of guilt.
+
+"We cannot," he urged, "any of us dwell for a moment on such a
+hypothesis as that it was a murder in cold blood. The next conclusion,
+then, would be, a blow struck in a fit of passion, unintentionally
+causing death. Now, consider probabilities for a moment. In such a case,
+would it not be the only impulse of any girl, terrified by the
+unexpected result of her anger, to rush for help? Miss Brabourne has
+never seen death--she would think of a swoon from loss of blood as the
+worst possible contingency, she would have hurried home, she would have
+told the first wayfarer she met, she would have been so agitated as to
+render concealment impossible. Besides, the poor boy's clothes were
+saturated with blood; how could she have lifted him--how could she have
+scooped any sort of hole without her clothes bearing such evident traces
+of it?"
+
+"The front of her dress was very dirty," said Claud, reluctantly. "You
+know I always notice that sort of thing. No rain had fallen then, so it
+was not mud; but it was chalk, I am certain."
+
+"You have not watched Elsa, Mr. Percivale, as I have done," said Henry,
+sadly. "You are ignorant of her character, and her bringing-up. She has
+never known what sympathy meant. Every trivial offence has been treated
+as a crime. Her childhood was one long atmosphere of punishment. The
+Misses Willoughby are good women, but they have not understood how to
+bring her up--repression, authority, decorum, those are their ideas. If
+ever Elsa laughed, she laughed alone; if she suffered, it was in secret.
+She is reserved by nature, and this training has made her far more so.
+Were she to fall into any grievous trouble, such as this, for instance,"
+pausing a moment, he then added firmly, "I must confess that I think her
+first, second, and third impulse would be to conceal it."
+
+Percivale made no reply.
+
+"Her temper, too--she has never been taught to govern it," went on
+Henry, sadly; "and it is very violent. Add to this the provocation she
+has had----"
+
+"Have you," asked Claud, suddenly, "have you mentioned to anyone the
+book we found on the cliff last night?"
+
+Henry made a gesture of despair.
+
+"I had forgotten that," he said, miserably. "But it is another strong
+piece of evidence."
+
+Claud explained to Percivale.
+
+"Miss Brabourne told us that she had not been on the cliffs yesterday.
+As we walked home, we found a favorite book of hers lying out in the
+rain--a book which only some very unforeseen agitation would induce her
+to part with."
+
+"Of course we could suppress that evidence at the inquest," was the
+immoral suggestion of the Justice of the Peace.
+
+"It will not be necessary," tranquilly replied their companion. "I shall
+know the truth by then."
+
+They were out on the cliffs by this time, and presently became aware, by
+the halting of the sailors in front, that the fatal spot was reached.
+They saw Mrs. Orton cast herself on the ground in the theatrical way
+which seemed habitual to her, and saw her husband's face turn greenish
+white as he averted it from the little corpse over which she bent so
+vehemently. Walking forward, they too stood beside the dead boy.
+
+Every feeling of animosity, of dislike, which Henry Fowler might have
+cherished, melted before the pitiful sight. It was through a mist of
+tears, which came near to falling, that he gazed down on the child's
+white face.
+
+It was quite composed and the eyes half shut. A certain drawn look about
+the mouth, and the added placidity and beauty of death gave to it a
+likeness to Elsa which had not seemed to exist in life. It was somewhat
+horrible to contemplate. In her moments of dumb obstinacy Henry had seen
+her look so.
+
+He turned away his face for a moment, looking out over the busy,
+tossing, sunlit sea, where the shadows of the clouds chased each other
+in soft blurs of shadow, with green and russet shoals between.
+
+The fresh quick air swept over the chalk, laden with brine. A warm odor
+of thyme was in its breath, and there lay Godfrey, with stiff limbs and
+still heart, in a silence only broken by his aunt's sobs, and the
+whistling of the wind among the rocks.
+
+"How do you know that death was caused by a blow?" asked Mr. Percivale
+of the sailors, at length.
+
+Bergman explained, in his German accents, that they had made an
+examination of the body to see if it could be identified.
+
+"It is not lying now as we found it, sir. It was bent together--we
+straightened the limbs. In pulling down the shirt to see if there was a
+name marked on it, we discovered a livid bruise."
+
+Mr. Percivale knelt down by the dead boy, and, passing an arm gently
+beneath him, raised the lifeless head till it lay against his shoulder,
+and exposed the bruise in question.
+
+Mrs. Orton, who had been silent till now, uttered an inarticulate cry of
+rage:
+
+"Look there!" she gasped.
+
+"Is anyone here ignorant enough to assert that this scar is the result
+of the blow of a girl's fist?" demanded Percivale, raising his head. "It
+has been done with a stick--a heavy stick. See, it has grazed the skin
+right across; you can follow the direction of it. Does Miss Brabourne
+carry a weapon of that description?"
+
+"She had no stick when we met her in the lane yesterday," said Claud,
+eagerly.
+
+"Idiot! As if she could not throw away a dozen on her way home from
+here," passionately broke in Mrs. Orton.
+
+"Ottilie," said her husband, in a low, warning voice, "take care."
+
+"Take care! Too late to say that now," she cried. "Why didn't I take
+care sooner--care of my poor little boy? Why did I ever send him to
+this den of assassins? But, thank Heaven, we are in England, and shall
+have justice--a life for a life," she concluded, wildly.
+
+"We are willing to make all possible allowances for Mrs. Orton's
+feelings," said Percivale, with great gentleness. "I must agree with her
+that it is much to be regretted that she trusted such a delicate child,
+and one on whose life so much depended, out of her own personal care."
+
+"What do you mean, sir?" cried Ottilie, suddenly.
+
+"What do I mean? Merely what I said, madam," he answered, astonished.
+
+"You are trying to make insinuations," she cried, too excited to think
+of prudence. "What depended on Godfrey's life? Do you suppose I am
+thinking of the paltry few hundreds a year we received for taking care
+of him?"
+
+"Madam," he replied at once, "an hour since you did not scruple openly,
+in the presence of numbers of people, to accuse Miss Brabourne of
+murdering her brother to obtain his fortune; I am therefore not
+surprised that you imagine others may be ready to supply a base motive
+for your grief at his death. Believe me, however, my imagination is not
+so vivid as yours; what you suggest had not occurred to me until you
+mentioned it."
+
+She had no answer to make; she was choking with rage; the stranger was a
+match for her. Her husband stood by, reflecting for the first time on
+the effect which Godfrey's death must have for him. The few hundreds of
+which his wife spoke so contemptuously had nevertheless been
+particularly acceptable to people who habitually lived far beyond their
+income, and were always in want of ready money. But beyond this--had
+Godfrey lived to attain his majority, the whole of his fortune would
+have been practically in his uncle's hands. He could have invested it,
+turned it over, betted with it, speculated with it; and the boy would
+have made a will immensely in his favor. He had never looked forward to
+a long life for the young heir.
+
+Weakly, and viciously inclined, he had always imagined that four or
+five years of indulgence would "finish" him; but that he should live to
+be twenty-one was all-important. Now the whole of that untouched fortune
+was Elsa's, unless this murder could be proved against her. Mr. Orton
+began to divine the more rapid workings of his wife's mind. In the event
+of both children dying unmarried, the money was willed, half to
+Frederick, half to the Misses Willoughby.
+
+Never had Mr. and Mrs. Orton been in more urgent, more terrible need
+than at this moment. The year had been a consistently unlucky one. Their
+Ascot losses had merely been the beginning of sorrows.
+
+The hurried flight from Homburg had really been due, not to poor
+Godfrey's complaints of his dulness, but to an inability to remain
+longer; and they had arrived at Edge with the full intention of
+partaking of the Misses Willoughby's hospitality as long as they could
+manage to endure the slowness of existence at their expense.
+
+And now here was this dire calamity befallen them! Frederick smarted
+under a righteous sense of injury. He thought Fate had a special spite
+against him. What was a man to do if everything would persist in being a
+failure? Every single road towards paying his debts seemed to be
+inexorably closed. This was most certainly his misfortune and not his
+fault; he was perfectly willing to pay, if some one would give him the
+money to do it with; and, as nobody would, it followed that he was most
+deeply to be pitied.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXVII.
+
+    One friend in that path shall be
+    To secure my step from wrong;
+    One to count night day for me,
+    Patient through the watches long,
+    Serving most with none to see.
+
+    _A Serenade at the Villa._
+
+
+Nothing could well look blacker than did the case to Henry Fowler. He
+could see no way out of it. Had the boy been found at the foot of the
+cliffs, a verdict of accidental death could so easily have been
+returned; but here, and with the marks of violence plainly visible on
+the body, the presumption seemed terribly strong.
+
+He stood with head sunk upon his chest, feeling beaten down, degraded,
+stricken. Over and over in his mind did he turn the circumstances to see
+if there would be enough evidence to justify the coroner in committing
+Elaine for trial.
+
+Absolute proof of her guilt would not, he thought, be possible; the
+night had been so wild, the spot so lonely. But the very fact of
+standing to take her trial on such a charge would be more than enough to
+blast the young girl's future. Supposing she had to go through life
+stigmatised as one acquitted of murder merely because the jury did not
+see enough evidence to convict? The thought was literally agony to his
+large, gentle heart. Was this to be the fate of Alice's daughter? He
+stood as one accused in his own eyes of culpable neglect; in some way
+such a culmination should have been avoided--he should have been able to
+watch over Elaine better than he had done.
+
+Claud gently recalled him to the present by asking what was to be done
+with the body.
+
+Rousing himself, he gave directions for it to be carried to Edge
+Willoughby; and then fell afresh into a fit of despair, realising how
+terribly imminent it all was.
+
+"When will the inquest take place?" asked Mr. Percivale, approaching
+him.
+
+"The day after to-morrow--I cannot delay it longer; you have forty-eight
+hours in which to accomplish your purpose," returned Henry, with a
+bitter laugh quite unlike him.
+
+"Forty-eight hours," repeated the stranger, steadily. "One can do a
+great deal in that time."
+
+He remained standing, in the perfect quietness of attitude which seemed
+habitual to him, his eyes fixed on the rude niche, hollowed in the
+ground, where the boy's corpse had lain.
+
+"He was not robbed," he said, after a moment.
+
+"Robbed? No! She was not clever enough for that," cut in Ottilie, with
+her harsh sneer. "Had she possessed wit enough to rifle his pockets and
+fling his watch into a thicket, she would have stood a better chance."
+
+"Miss Brabourne is, perhaps, not so well versed in the science of these
+matters as you seem to be, madam," was the mild answer. "Yet, if she
+possessed cunning enough to conceive the plan of murdering her brother
+for his fortune, it would seem consistent to credit her also with
+cunning enough to do all in her power to avert suspicion; to me, it
+amounts to a moral impossibility that any young lady in her right mind
+should perpetrate such a deed, and then walk quietly home without so
+much as making up a single falsehood to shield herself."
+
+"Murderers, especially inexperienced ones, are never consistent,"
+returned Mrs. Orton, furiously, "as you would know, if you knew anything
+at all of the matter."
+
+"Ottilie, Ottilie, come away, for goodness sake--it is snobbish to get
+up a row," urged her husband, in low tones; and, taking her by the arm,
+he led her unwillingly away from the scene of conflict.
+
+Claud and Percivale were left confronting each other.
+
+"The valley will have a pretty ghastly celebrity attaching to it after
+this," remarked the former, removing his straw hat to pass his
+handkerchief over his hot brow. "This is the second mysterious affair
+within one summer."
+
+"The second!" echoed Percivale, keenly, turning his eyes upon him full
+of awakened interest.
+
+"Yes; and with points of similarity too. Each victim had been attacked
+from behind, and beaten with a heavy stick; there was no robbery in
+either case, and Miss Elsa Brabourne in the former case, oddly enough,
+was the person to discover the insensible victim. Whether the incident
+unconsciously influenced her, whether as is the case sometimes,
+according to newspapers, the ease with which one crime had been
+committed suggested another, I cannot of course say----"
+
+"Was the man killed?"
+
+"No; he recovered: but had no idea as to who was his assailant. We had
+down a detective----"
+
+"English detectives are no use at all, or I would telegraph for the
+entire force," replied Percivale. "I believe I shall get to the bottom
+of this matter more surely by myself. I have already formulated a
+theory. You say the criminal was never discovered?"
+
+"No; never even had a clue worth calling a clue."
+
+"Then surely the same idea at once occurs to you as to me, that both
+these murders are the work of one hand."
+
+Claud was silent.
+
+"I had not thought of it," he said at last.
+
+"No; because your mind is full of a preconceived idea; and nothing is
+more fatal to the discovery of the truth. Let me show you what I mean. I
+suppose there is no room at all for the absurd supposition that Miss
+Brabourne was concerned in crime number one?"
+
+"None whatever. She was out walking with her maid, and they found Mr.
+Allonby lying insensible by the roadside. He had been first stunned by a
+blow on the head, then so severely beaten that the bone of one arm was
+broken."
+
+"And not robbed?"
+
+"No; except for a most absurd circumstance--one which mystified us all
+more than anything. He had his dinner with him--he was making a sketch,
+I should tell you; an artist--and this dinner was packed for him by Mrs.
+Clapp, of the Fountain Head, in a pudding-basin, tied round with a blue
+and white handkerchief. After the murder the basin and handkerchief were
+missing, nor could they be found, though careful search was made. The
+detective could offer no solution of this part of the business."
+
+"What solution did he offer of the rest of the transaction?"
+
+"He felt certain it must be the result of some private grudge; the
+attack was such a vicious one--as if the one idea had been to kill--to
+wreak vengeance."
+
+"What time of day was this done?" asked Percivale, who was following
+every word with close interest.
+
+"As near as possible at five o'clock, one evening towards the end of
+June. The time can be fixed pretty conclusively, for when Miss Brabourne
+and her maid passed the place shortly before, he was alive, seated on a
+camp-stool; on their return he was lying in the grass, motionless."
+
+"And was there any inhabitant of the village likely to bear the artist a
+grudge?"
+
+"Impossible! He was an utter stranger."
+
+"Did anyone see a stranger pass through? Let me know the circumstances
+more accurately. Describe the scene of the occurrence."
+
+Claud eagerly complied, supplying Mr. Percivale with every detail, and
+doing it with the intelligent accuracy which was part of his nature. The
+other listened closely, questioning here and there, and finally gave his
+conclusion with calm conviction.
+
+"Every word you utter convinces me that for a stranger of any sort to
+penetrate into the valley, track Mr. Allonby's whereabouts, and vanish
+without leaving a trace, taking with him a pudding-basin as a memento of
+his vengeance, amounts to a moral impossibility. It is absurd. You say,
+too, that Mr. Allonby has no idea himself on the subject--says he has no
+enemies--is as much in the dark as anyone?"
+
+"Yes, and I believe him: he is a thoroughly simple-minded, honest
+fellow."
+
+"Then it stands to reason, in my opinion, that the murderer is an
+inhabitant of Edge Valley."
+
+"But then," cried Claud, "you take away any possibility of a motive!"
+
+"Exactly; and, granting for the sake of argument that Miss Brabourne did
+_not_ murder her brother, what motive have we here?"
+
+Claud was silent.
+
+"The way you argue is this," went on Percivale, "you know of a
+powerfully strong motive for the murder of this poor boy, and you feel
+bound to accept the theory because, if it be not so, you are at a loss
+to account for the thing on any other grounds. You say--there must be a
+very forcible reason to incite to murder. I answer you--here is a crime,
+committed in this very village, not three months back, fresh in
+everyone's memory, alike in many salient points, and, as far as we can
+learn, utterly without purpose. If one mysterious deed can be committed
+in this valley, why not two? Why is the homicide to stop short? If he
+has managed to dispose of a full-grown man on the high-road in broad
+daylight, he will make short work of a delicate little boy, out by
+himself on the cliffs in the twilight."
+
+"But," urged Claud, "you are assuming that these outrages are committed
+simply for the sake of killing--with no motive but slaughter. They must
+then be the work of a maniac, of some one not in his right mind!"
+
+"Exactly. That is the very same conclusion which I have arrived at. Do
+you know of any such in the village?"
+
+"No, I don't. I am certain there is no such person," answered Claud,
+hopelessly.
+
+"He may very likely exist without anyone's suspecting it," rejoined
+Percivale. "You know a man may suffer from one special form of mania and
+be absolutely sane on every other point. If we could leave the discovery
+to time, he must inevitably betray himself, sooner or later; but we have
+to run him to earth in eight-and-forty hours. Let us see if the spots
+selected give us any clue. How far from where we are now standing was
+Mr. Allonby attacked?"
+
+"In quite the opposite direction--nearly four miles from here. Starting
+from Edge Willoughby, you would turn to your right and strike inland to
+get to Poole Farm; you would turn to your left and walk along the shore
+to get here."
+
+"I see. That does not help us much; yet the criminal should have some
+hiding place within convenient distance one would think. Unless it be
+some one so completely beyond the pale of suspicion that his goings and
+comings excited no attention whatever. Is there no village idiot here?
+They indulge in one in most out-of-the-way spots like this?"
+
+"Oh, yes, there is Saul Parker, an epileptic boy; but he is out of the
+question."
+
+"Why out of the question?" asked Percivale, persistently.
+
+"Why, because--because--my good sir, why are _you_ out of the question,
+the thing is just as absurd," answered Claud, almost crossly.
+
+"Is it? I wonder," said Percivale, thoughtfully. "We shall soon see, if
+you can answer a few more of my questions for me. To begin--_I_ am out
+of the question because it can be proved that I was not in Edge Valley
+at the time either crime was committed. Can you say as much for this
+Saul Parker?"
+
+"No, of course he was in the place at the time, but the whole idea is
+absurd. He is gentle, tractable, most beautiful in face, and sat to Miss
+Allonby as a model for a picture Mr. Fowler now has----"
+
+"Where was he at the time Mr. Allonby was attacked?" coolly continued
+his interrogator.
+
+"Where was he? I----" a sudden memory burst upon Claud of Mrs.
+Battishill's kitchen when he first beheld it.
+
+"He was in the kitchen of Poole Farm," he answered, triumphantly, "for I
+saw him there myself. I think that proves the _alibi_ all right."
+
+"Did you see him there before or after the attempted murder?"
+
+"After--naturally."
+
+"Ah!... where does this Saul Parker live?"
+
+"He lives with his mother in a cottage on the Quarry Road. She is the
+widow of a quarry-man."
+
+"It was along the Quarry Road, I think, that Miss Brabourne and her
+brother went to the cliff yesterday? I wish you would kindly take me
+back to the village that way. I should like to see the idiot, foolish as
+you think my theory sounds. Is he very small and puny?"
+
+"Oh, no--a great fellow, taller than I am," admitted Claud, with a
+vague, vague wonder growing in him as to whether, after all, the
+stranger had chanced upon the truth of what had baffled them all this
+summer.
+
+And--the absurdity of the idea!
+
+Even as this sentiment crossed his mind, he could not help owning that,
+though he could reiterate that it was absurd, he could give no
+substantial reasons for his opinion. Everyone would have thought it
+absurd--anyone in Edge Valley to whom the suggestion had been made would
+have passed it by with a contemptuous laugh. The idiot was probably the
+only person in the whole place whose goings and comings were never
+challenged--who wandered in and out as he listed, now in this farm
+kitchen, now in that, kindly tolerated for the sake of his beautiful
+face and his affliction. It was of little use to question him.
+
+"Where have 'ee been, my lad? Haow's yer moother?" or any other like
+civility. A soft smile or a gurgling laugh would be the only response at
+times, or, if mischievously inclined, he might give an answer which was
+not the true one.
+
+Yet, now that Claud began to think over what he knew of the boy....
+
+His intense aversion to strangers was one point in his character which
+rose to immediate remembrance. He recalled Wynifred's story of how she
+had caught him in the act of throwing a stone at Mr. Haldane when his
+back was turned; and Clara Battishill's complaints of his cruelty were
+also fresh in his memory.
+
+But Godfrey he knew to be the special terror of Saul's life, and the
+object of his untold hatred. Godfrey set his bull-dog at the idiot,
+laughed at him, bullied him--one blow from that heavy cudgel which Saul
+habitually dragged after him would be more than enough to avenge his
+wrongs on the frail boy. And yet--and yet----
+
+Somehow, Elsa's guilt seemed painfully obvious. Her embarrassment, her
+confusion of the night before--how were they to be accounted for? Was
+there any other solution possible? Her untruthful equivocation as to
+where she had been--what else could it portend?
+
+This idea about Saul was, after all, too wild and far-fetched. How could
+he have been guilty of the attack on Osmond without the Battishills
+being aware of the fact?
+
+No; the theory was ingenious, but, in his opinion, it would not hold
+water. He said so, aloud, after a long interval of silence.
+
+"I shall at all events see if facts fit in at all with it," said
+Percivale, quietly. "Drowning men catch at straws, you know." Pausing a
+moment he then added, almost reverently:
+
+"If that beautiful woman is arraigned for this crime--if she has ever to
+stand in the dock to answer to the charge of fratricide, or even
+manslaughter, I shall feel all the rest of my life though as if I were
+stained, shamed, degraded from my rightful post of helper to the
+oppressed. I feel as though I could cut through armies single-handed
+sooner than see Frederick Orton's wife triumph over the youth and
+helplessness of Miss Brabourne."
+
+He hesitated over the name, breathing it softly, as a devotee might name
+a patron saint.
+
+"You know something of the Ortons?" asked Claud.
+
+"By reputation--yes," returned Percivale, with the air of one who does
+not intend to say more.
+
+Had he chosen, he could have edified his companion with an account of
+how, last summer, at Oban, Mrs. Orton had determined, by hook or by
+crook, to become acquainted with the mysterious owner of the _Swan_, of
+whom no one knew more than his name, his unsociable habits, and his
+somewhat remarkable appearance; and how she prosecuted this design with
+so much vigor that he was obliged to intimate to her, as unequivocably
+as is possible from a gentleman to a lady, that he declined the honor of
+her acquaintance.
+
+He said nothing of this, however; evidently, whatever his merits or his
+failings, he was a very uncommunicative person.
+
+As if by mutual consent, they moved slowly along together, their faces
+turned back towards Edge Valley. Suddenly it occurred to Claud that he
+was due at Ardnacruan in six hours' time. There was nothing for it but
+to drive into Stanton and telegraph; no consideration should induce him
+to leave the scene of action in the present unforeseen and agitated
+aspect of affairs. He must implore Fowler to keep him a few days
+longer--which request that good fellow would grant, he knew how
+willingly.
+
+As these thoughts crossed his mind, Henry approached them, his kind face
+furrowed and drawn with pain in a manner piteous to behold. Laying a
+hand on Mr. Cranmer's arm, he said, brokenly,
+
+"Claud, my lad, you're not thinking of leaving me to-day?"
+
+A rush of sympathy filled the young man's heart. Never before had Mr.
+Fowler made use of his Christian name.
+
+"No, my dear fellow, of course I shall stay," he said, at once. "If only
+I thought I could be of any comfort to you----"
+
+"You can--you are. But I am selfish--your friends will be expecting
+you----"
+
+"I will drive into Stanton and send a telegram, if I may have the trap.
+Perhaps there might be some business I could do for you?"
+
+"One or two things, lad, if you would. I feel mazed. I can't think
+clearly. Let me see----"
+
+"I'll think for you," said Claud, slipping his arm into his; "and,
+first, I am going to take you straight home to have a glass of wine and
+some food. You are positively faint from exhaustion."
+
+"You must come too," said Mr. Fowler, to Percivale.
+
+"Thanks."
+
+The young man turned slowly round towards them.
+
+During the few foregoing sentences he had been gazing out seawards, with
+folded arms.
+
+"On second thoughts," he said to Claud, "I think that, before making the
+inquiries I speak of, I will see Miss Brabourne--if I can."
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXVIII.
+
+                            She stood on the floor,
+    Fair and still as the moonlight that came there before,
+                        And a smile just beginning:
+    It touches her lips, but it dare not arise
+    To the height of the mystical sphere of her eyes,
+    And the large, musing eyes, neither joyous nor sorry,
+    Sing on like the angels in separate glory
+                        Between clouds of amber.
+
+    _Lay of the Brown Rosary._
+
+
+The desolation and abandonment which had fallen upon Edge Willoughby
+cannot be described.
+
+The sisters knew not what to think, or say, or do. A vague notion that
+all employment was incongruous when suffering under a _bereavement_ led
+them to sit in a circle round the dining-room, gazing at each other with
+stiff and pale faces, wondering if this nightmare-like day would ever
+end, and what would follow next.
+
+In the large drawing-room lay the motionless form of poor Godfrey, still
+and dead, in the gloom of closed blinds and drawn curtains. The same
+death-like quiet brooded over all the house. Miss Ellen lay on her couch
+in an agony of self-reproach, caused by the fact that it was owing to
+her influence entirely that the boy had come to Edge.
+
+Oh, that he had never come--that Elsa had never been subjected to the
+fiery trial which had terminated so fatally.
+
+It was all their fault, she told herself. They had grossly mismanaged
+the child--they had never sought her confidence, only exacted her
+submission. Now that Miss Ellen would have given everything she
+possessed for that confidence, it was, of course, obstinately withheld.
+No word could Elsa be made to speak, though, figuratively, they had all
+gone down on their knees to her.
+
+If she would only confess the truth--whatever it was they could pardon
+it, had been their piteous cry. But she would not speak. The only thing
+they could extract was an announcement that they all, she knew, took her
+for a murderess, and she would therefore not attempt to justify
+herself; and finally, all they could do was to allow her to go away into
+her own room and lock herself in. The whole situation was intensely
+awkward: for the Ortons were quartered upon them, and it was hard to say
+which was the greater--their dislike to being there, or the Misses
+Willoughbys' dislike to having them.
+
+On returning from the cliff, Ottilie had swept off all her belongings
+with a grand air, declaring that no human power should induce her to
+sleep under the same roof with Elsa, and had driven with her husband to
+the "Fountain Head," where they were met by William Clapp, who
+respectfully but firmly denied them admittance. "He had heard what the
+lady was pleased to say, aout on the beach this morning, and he warn't
+going tu harbor them as laid things o' that kind to the charge o' Miss
+Ullin as he had seen grow up, and meant to stand by to his dying day."
+
+There was absolutely no alternative but to go back ignominiously to Edge
+Willoughby, and beg for an asylum there till the inquest should be over.
+The request was granted with freezing hauteur by the sisters, Miss
+Charlotte adding that she thought it would be more pleasant for all
+parties if Mr. and Mrs. Orton had their meals served separately.
+
+The pair were out of doors now, wandering restlessly about, in quest of
+nobody quite knew what. When the bell sounded the sisters imagined that
+they had returned, and a tremor of excitement ran through the pallid
+assembly as the parlor-maid brought in a small card, on which was
+engraved simply:
+
+    _Mr. Percivale,_
+
+              _Yacht "Swan."_
+
+The gentleman followed his card, and stood just inside the door, still
+in his nautical and somewhat unusual dress, cap in hand, and with his
+clear eyes fixed upon Miss Ellen.
+
+"May I come in?" he asked.
+
+"O--certainly!" fluttered Miss Ellen.
+
+He went straight across the room to her couch and took her hand.
+
+"I hope you will allow me to introduce myself," he said. "I am the
+unfortunate man who hurled such a bomb-shell into the midst of the
+village this morning. I am now engaged in doing my poor best to repair
+the mischief I have caused. Take courage, Miss Willoughby--your white
+dove shall not receive so much as a fleck on her gold and silver
+plumage."
+
+Miss Ellen could hardly speak for tears.
+
+"She is flecked already," she gasped. "A vile accusation has been
+levelled at her before a crowd of witnesses. We are disgraced."
+
+"I think the lady who made the accusation will be the one to feel
+disgraced," answered Mr. Percivale, taking a seat beside her. "Keep up
+heart, Miss Willoughby, I feel sure this frightful accusation will be
+easily proved false."
+
+She looked up with a sudden spasm of hope.
+
+"Then you really think----" she began, and paused.
+
+"I think?" interrogatively.
+
+"You sincerely believe that Elaine is quite innocent of this--that she
+is as ignorant of the facts of the case as we are?" There was a
+feverish, frantic eagerness, in her voice as she spoke.
+
+"That is certainly my fixed belief," he said, calmly. "I fail to see how
+anyone could think otherwise. I know what you fear--that Miss Brabourne
+struck a blow in anger, and then was so horrified at its result that she
+dared not confess what she had done. There is a circumstance which
+renders this an impossible view of the case. Whoever murdered the poor
+boy afterwards scooped a shallow hole in the grass, partly out of sight
+beneath a bramble, and laid the body in it. To do this without becoming
+covered with blood and dirt would have been a miracle. Miss Brabourne
+came home last night, so Mr. Cranmer says, with the front of her dress
+marked with chalk; but there are plenty of witnesses, I think, to prove
+that she had no blood-stains, either on hands or dress, nor were her
+hands in the state they necessarily must have been had she dug a hole
+with insufficient tools."
+
+"That is true," said Miss Ellen, eagerly. "You shall see the dress if
+you like--it is soiled, but not nearly to that extent! This is
+hope--this is life. I never thought of all this before."
+
+"If you would allow me," went on the stranger, courteously, "I want to
+see more than Miss Brabourne's dress--I want an interview with her
+herself. Would you allow me to see her--alone?"
+
+There was a slight pause. Then Miss Charlotte spoke.
+
+"May I ask why you wish to see my niece in private?" she asked.
+
+"I will tell you frankly why. I am the only person who has fearlessly
+asserted from the first that I believe her to be innocent. I think it
+likely that she will, in consequence, accord me a confidence which she
+would withhold from anyone else."
+
+"He is right," said Miss Ellen, with tears. "She will not speak a word
+to us. We have never trusted her--we have let her see it; we have been
+very wrong. Take Mr. Percivale into the school-room, Emily, and see if
+you can induce Elsa to come down and see him."
+
+Percivale followed his guide into the small, dull room where most of
+Elsa's life had been passed. There were the instruments of her daily
+torture, the black-board, the globes, the slates and lesson-books, the
+rattling, inharmonious piano. Outside was the dip of the valley, the
+wooded height beyond, and, nearer, the wide sunny terrace, now a blaze
+of dahlias and chrysanthemums. He walked to the window and stood
+there--very still, and gazing out with eyes that did not betray the
+secret of what his thoughts might be. His cap lay on the small table
+near; leaning against the woodwork, he folded his arms, and so, without
+change of attitude or expression, awaited the entrance of the accused.
+
+Elsa came in after an interval of nearly a quarter-of-an-hour. She was
+white, and had evidently been weeping; but these accidents seemed
+scarcely to impair her beauty, while they heightened the strange
+interest which surrounded her, as it were, with an atmosphere of her
+own. Slowly closing the door behind her, she stood just within it, as
+still as he, and with her eyes fixed questioningly upon him, as if
+inquiring whether his first profession of faith in her had been shaken
+by what he had since heard.
+
+The slight sound of the lock made him rouse himself, and withdraw his
+gaze from the horizon to fix it upon her face. Over mouth, cheeks, and
+brow his eyes flickered till they rested upon hers; and for several
+moments they remained so, seeing only one another. The girl seemed
+reading him as she would read a page--as a condemned criminal might
+devour the lines which told him that his innocence was established.
+Gradually on her wistful face there dawned a smile--a ray of blessed
+assurance. She moved two steps forward, stopped, faltered, hid her face.
+
+He advanced quickly, stood beside her, and said,
+
+"I thank you."
+
+It made her look up hurriedly.
+
+"You--thank me?"
+
+"Yes; for your granting me this interview shows me that you are on my
+side--that you are going to sanction my poor efforts to help you. To
+what do I owe such honor? It ought to be the portion of some worthier
+knight than I; but, such as I am, I will fight for you if it costs me
+life itself."
+
+"You are--" she began, but her voice failed her. "I cannot say it,"
+cried she--"I cannot tell you how I think of you. You are a stranger,
+but you can see clearer than they can. Not one of them believes in
+me--not even my godfather. But you--you--" as if instinctively she held
+out both her hands.
+
+Taking them, he bent over them and lightly kissed them as he had done on
+the beach, with a grace which was not quite English. Then, flashing a
+glance round the room, he selected the least aggressively uncomfortable
+chair, and made her sit down in it. Leaning against the piano, in such
+an attitude that the whole droop of her posture and the hands which lay
+in her lap were clearly visible as he looked down upon her, he said:
+
+"I feel so ashamed to make you sit here and exert yourself to talk to a
+stranger when you are feeling so keenly. But I want you to help me by
+trying to remember certain incidents as clearly as you can. Will you
+try?"
+
+"I will do anything you tell me."
+
+"That is very good of you. Now forgive my hurrying you so, and plunging
+so abruptly into the midst of my subject, but my time is short--"
+
+She started.
+
+"Are you going away?"
+
+A rush of most unwonted color mounted to Percivale's cheeks, and he
+hesitated a moment before his reply.
+
+"No; not going till your innocence is established; but the inquest will
+be held here the day after to-morrow, and I want to be in a position to
+show you blameless by then."
+
+She lifted her head and smiled up at him.
+
+"You can do it. I believe you could do _anything_," she said, softly.
+
+He looked at her steadily as he replied,
+
+"It does seem at this moment as though a great deal were possible."
+
+There was an eloquent pause, during which the hall clock struck loudly.
+Its sound roused Percivale, and he began his questioning.
+
+"First of all, I want to know exactly what happened during your walk
+with your brother yesterday. Can you remember, and will you tell me
+carefully, what time you started, where you went, and how you parted?
+For all these things are of great importance."
+
+"Yes; I will tell you exactly what happened. It was about half-past-two
+o'clock when my aunts said I was to go out with Godfrey. I did not want
+to go--for two reasons, both of which I will tell you. The first was
+that I was feeling very miserable because I had just said good-bye to my
+friends the Allonbys, who were gone to London----"
+
+"You will forgive me interrupting you one moment," he said, in a very
+still voice, and with a fixed expression, "but Mrs. Orton this morning
+said that you were going to be married. May I ask if you are engaged to
+Mr. Allonby, because if so I think he ought to be telegraphed for--it
+would not be my place--I am not privileged----"
+
+He broke off and waited. After a moment she said,
+
+"I am not engaged to Mr. Allonby."
+
+"Thank you. I hope you did not think I was unnecessarily curious?"
+
+"No."
+
+"And now to continue. What other reason had you for not wishing to go
+out with Godfrey?"
+
+"He had been very rude a fortnight before, and Mr. Allonby punished him.
+I knew he would try to revenge himself on me as soon as Mr. Allonby was
+gone--he said so."
+
+"Exactly; but you went?"
+
+"Yes, I was obliged to go. So we started along the Quarry Road, and when
+we got some way we began to quarrel. I had a book with me that Mr.
+Allonby had given me, and Godfrey tried to take it away. I would not let
+him, and he grew very angry. I held it above my head, and he sprung up
+and hung on me, and managed somehow to get his foot underneath mine, so
+that I slipped on the road, and he got the book. I was feeling very
+low-spirited, and so weary of his tiresome ways that I began to cry. We
+were on the road leading to the cliff from the quarries, close to the
+cottage where Mrs. Parker lives. She has a son called Saul who is an
+idiot, and he hates Godfrey, because he used to set his bull-dog at him.
+The other day Saul threw a stone at Godfrey from behind a tree, and hit
+his leg, and so Godfrey was determined to pay him out. When he saw the
+cottage it reminded him of this, so he said he should run home to the
+stable-yard, and get Venom, his dog. He turned back, and ran along the
+road towards home, and I was too tired and too unhappy to follow him. I
+thought I would give him the slip, so I just went off and hid myself in
+the woods by Boveney Hollow. I sat in the woods and cried for a long
+time, and at last the wind had risen so, and the sky looked so black and
+threatening, that I was frightened, and I guessed that Godfrey had gone
+home by that time, so I came out of the woods by the shortest way, and
+when I reached the high-road I met Mr. Fowler and Mr. Cranmer, so I went
+home with them."
+
+"And that was the last you saw of your brother?"
+
+"Yes."
+
+"He ran home to fetch his dog, in order to set it at Saul Parker the
+idiot?"
+
+"Yes. He had done it before. He said it was to teach Saul to behave
+himself; for you know poor Saul doesn't know any manners, and he is
+always rude to strangers, he hates them so. If he so much as sees the
+back of a person he does not know, he begins to scream with rage."
+
+"Is he--this idiot--considered dangerous?"
+
+"Dangerous? Oh, no, I think he is quite gentle, unless you tease him. At
+least, I do remember Clara Battishill saying that he was growing cruel.
+He is a big boy. Mr. Fowler tried to persuade his mother to let him go
+to a home, where they would teach him to occupy himself; but she cried
+so bitterly at the idea of losing him; he is all she has to love."
+
+Mr. Percivale was silent; his eyes perused the pattern of the worn
+carpet.
+
+Furtively Elsa lifted her eyelids, and critically examined his face. A
+high, noble-looking head, the eyes of a dreamer, the chin of a poet, the
+mouth of a man both resolute and pure.
+
+His fair moustache did not obscure the firm sweet line between the lips;
+something there was about him which did not belong to the nineteenth
+century; an atmosphere of lofty purpose and ideal simplicity. His
+expression was quite unlike anything one is accustomed to see. There was
+no cynicism, no spite, no half-amused, half-bored tolerance of a trivial
+world--none of that air of being exactly equipped for the circumstances
+in which he found himself, which belonged so completely to Claud
+Cranmer.
+
+This was a nature quite apart from its surroundings--a nature which had
+formed an ideal, and would never mingle but with the realization of this
+ideal. For this man the chances of happiness were terribly few; he could
+never adapt himself, never consent to put up with anything lower or less
+than he had dreamed of. If by the mysterious workings of fate he could
+meet and win a woman whose soul was as pure, whose standard as lofty as
+his own, he would enjoy a happiness undreamed of here below by the many
+thousands who soar not above mediocrity; but if--if, as was so terribly
+probable, he should make a mistake; if, after all, he took Leah instead
+of Rachel, he would touch a depth of misery and despair equally unknown
+to the generality of mankind. For him existed no possibility of
+compromise; his one hope of felicity rested upon the simple accident of
+whom he should fall in love with. And, by a strange paradox, the very
+loftiness of his nature and singleness of his mind rendered him far less
+capable of forming a true judgment than a man like Claud, who had
+"dipped in life's struggle and out again," had many times
+
+            "... tried in a crucible
+    To what 'speeches like gold' were reducible,
+    And found that the bravest prove copper."
+
+It seems a necessity, more or less, to judge human nature from one's own
+standpoint; and not only the bent of his mind, but the circumstances of
+his life, had held Percivale always aloof from the hurrying rush of
+modern society, from intrigue, or deceptions, or, in fact, from what is
+called knowledge of the world in any form.
+
+Hence the statuesque simplicity of his expression. Meanness, passion,
+competition were words of which he understood the meaning but had never
+felt the force. His face was like Thorwaldsen's sculptures--chivalrous,
+calm, steadfast.
+
+The reddish gold of his soft hair and short beard, the deep violet blue
+of his deep-set eyes, and the delicate character of his profile were all
+in harmony with this idea. He was artistic and picturesque with the
+unconsciousness of a by-gone age, not with the studied straining after
+effect which obtains to-day.
+
+He did not feel Elsa's eyes as they studied him so intently and so
+ignorantly. Not one of the characteristics above indicated was visible
+to the girl; she only wondered how he could be so handsome and so
+interesting with that strange-colored hair; and how old he was; and what
+he thought of her; and whether he would be able to cleave through the
+terrible net of horror and suspicion and fear which was drawing so
+closely round her.
+
+At last he raised his head, met her fixed regard, and, meeting it,
+smiled.
+
+"You have told me just what I wanted--what I hoped to hear," said he.
+"Now I must take leave for the present. I shall come up the first thing
+to-morrow morning to report progress."
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXIX.
+
+                          The pride
+    Of the day--my Swan--that a first fleck's fall
+    On her wonder of white must unswan, undo!
+
+    _The Worst of It._
+
+
+It was evening when Percivale left Edge Willoughby, and walked slowly
+down the terrace, accompanied by dear little Miss Fanny, who had
+undertaken to show him the stile leading to the foot-path which was the
+nearest way to the quarries.
+
+Jackie, the chough, was strutting along the gravel in much
+self-importance, his body all sideways, his bright eye fixed on the
+stranger, and uttering his unmusical cry of, "Jack-ee! Jack-ee!"
+
+The young man paused, bent down, and caressed the bird, spite of the
+formidable-looking orange beak.
+
+"What a queer old chap!" he said.
+
+"Yes, he is quite a pet. Elsa is very fond of him," said Miss Fanny,
+seizing as eagerly as he had done on any topic of conversation which was
+not too heavily charged with emotion to be possible.
+
+Of the terrible issues so near at hand neither dared to speak. As if
+nothing more unusual than an afternoon call had transpired, Percivale
+asked of Jacky's age and extraction, learned that he was a Cornishman by
+birth, and of eccentric disposition, and so travelled safely along the
+wide gravel-walk, on one side of which the garden rose abruptly up,
+whilst on the other it sloped as suddenly down, losing itself in a maze
+of chrysanthemums, gooseberry-bushes, potatoes, and scarlet-runners,
+till a tall thorn hedge intervened to separate the garden from the
+cornfield, where the "mows" lay scattered about in every direction,
+dispersed and driven by the tempest of last night.
+
+So they gained the stile, and here Miss Fanny paused.
+
+"If you go down the hill by the foot-path, you will come out on the main
+road," she said, pointing with her dear little fat finger.
+
+"Thank you. Mr. Cranmer will meet me somewhere on the road--he said he
+would. I--I shall see you again as soon as--directly--as I said to your
+sister," stammered the young man, in an unfinished, fragmentary way.
+
+He took her hand, with the graceful gravity which characterized all his
+greetings of women.
+
+"Thank you," he said again, and, lifting his cap, vaulted over the
+stile, and walked rapidly down the foot-path.
+
+Miss Fanny gazed after him through a mist of tears, which she presently
+wiped away from her fresh cheeks, and trotted back to the terrace with
+an expression not devoid of hope.
+
+Her pigeons flew round her; they knew that it was past feeding-time. The
+gleaming wings flashed and circled in the light, and presently the
+gravel was covered with the pretty, strutting things, nodding their
+sheeny necks, and chuckling softly to each other.
+
+"Jack-ee! Jack-ee!" screamed the chough, discordantly, rushing in among
+their ranks, and routing them.
+
+"Jackie! Come here, you naughty bird!" cried Miss Fanny, interposing for
+the protection of her pets. "There! there! Go along, do! Go along,
+do!... I really don't know how it is--I do feel that I place such
+confidence in that young man! Quite a stranger, too! Very odd! But I
+feel as though a special Providence had sent that yacht our way to-day.
+It seems as though it had been sent purposely--it really does. Somehow,
+to-night, I feel as if help were near. No power can restore poor dear
+Godfrey, that's true; but we may save Elsa, I do hope and trust."
+
+Claud was leaning over the low stone wall of the highroad, when a touch
+on the shoulder roused him, and, looking up, he met Percivale's
+collected gaze.
+
+"Now, quick!" was all Percivale said; and, in a moment, both young men
+were hurrying along the Quarry Road as fast as their legs would carry
+them.
+
+They only spoke once; and then it was Claud who broke the silence.
+
+"Fowler thinks it hopeless--that you are altogether on a wrong track,"
+he said.
+
+"We shall see," was the response, in a tense voice which told of
+highly-strung nerves.
+
+Claud thought of his last journey along that road, staggering blindly in
+darkness and rain, with the screaming wind and thundering sea in his
+ears. Last night! Could it be only last night? A thousand years seemed
+to have elapsed since then. Life, just now, seemed made up of crisis;
+and he railed at himself for being hatefully heartless, because he could
+not help a certain feeling of excitement, which was almost like
+pleasure, in anticipating the _denouement_ of the affair.
+
+A growing admiration for the strange owner of the _Swan_ was his
+dominant sensation. There was a light of purpose in Percivale's eye, an
+air of conviction about his whole manner, which could not fail to
+influence his companion.
+
+The feelings of both young men were at a high pitch as they paused
+before the door of Mrs. Parker's somewhat remote cottage, and knocked.
+The woman opened the door and looked at her visitors in astonishment.
+One glance at her was enough to gauge her character in an instant. She
+was what country people call a "poor thing." Her expression was that of
+meek folly, and she wore a perpetual air of apology. Her red-rimmed,
+indefinite eyes suggested a perennial flow of tears, ready at the
+shortest notice, and her weak fingers fumbled at her untidy throat in
+fruitless efforts to hold together a dilapidated brown silk handkerchief
+which had become unfastened.
+
+"Good evening, gentlemen," she said, "what can I do for you?"
+
+Her air was mildly surprised.
+
+"We called in," said Claud, who was not unknown to her, "to ask if
+you've heard the awful news about the discovery on the cliffs this
+morning?"
+
+"Lord, no! She had heard never a word of it--nobody never took no
+trouble to look in and tell her any bit o' news as might be going; she
+might as well be dead and buried, for all the comfort she ever got out
+of _her_ life," grumbled she, plaintively.
+
+Even at this juncture, Claud could not refrain from a cynical reflection
+on womanhood, as, in the person of the widow Parker, it calmly reckoned
+the news of a murder among the comforts of life.
+
+"Your son Saul--where is he? Doesn't he bring you the news?" asked he.
+
+"Lord no! not he! he mostly forgets it all on the way home, he don't
+keep nothing in his head for more than three minutes at a stretch. An'
+he ain't been outside the place to-day, for I've had a awful night with
+him," whined Mrs. Parker, sitting down on a chair and lifting a
+coal-black pocket-handkerchief to her eyes.
+
+"What, another fit?" asked Claud.
+
+"He was out last night in all that gale, if you'll believe me, sir. What
+he was after passes me, an' I set an' set awaitin' for him, and
+a-putting out my bit o' fire by opening the door, when the wind come in
+fit to blind yer, an' at last in he come, with every thread on him
+drippin' wet, and what he'd been after Lord knows, for not a word would
+he say but to call for his supper, and afore he'd 'ardly swallowed three
+mouthfuls he was took----"
+
+"Took?" put in Percivale, sharply.
+
+The widow paused, with her last pair of tears unwiped on her cheeks, and
+stared at him.
+
+"With a fit, sir--he suffers from fits, my poor boy do," she said.
+"_Epiplexy_ the doctor do call it, and, whatever it is, it's a nasty
+thing to suffer with. It makes him sorft, poor lad, and the other chaps
+laughs at him, and it's very hard on him, for you see, now he's growin'
+up, he feels it. I ain't a Devonshire woman myself--I'm from London, I
+am, and I do say these Devonshire lads are a sight deal too rough and
+rude. When they was all little together, I could cuff them as hurt him,
+but they're too big for that now."
+
+There was no stopping her tongue. Poor soul! she led a lonely life, for
+her peevishness alienated her neighbors, who did not approve of the
+censure their manners and customs met with at her hands. She never could
+talk for five minutes to anyone without insisting on her London origin;
+and, as a result, it was but rarely that she could get an audience at
+all.
+
+The flood-gates of her eloquence were now opened, and she poured forth a
+lengthy string of grievances.
+
+"It's terrible hard on a woman like me, as never was strong at the best
+of times, to be left a widder with a boy like that on my hands! He's a
+head taller than 'is mother, and strong--bless yer! He could knock
+either o' you gentlemen down and think nothing of it, and you may think
+if he's easy to manage when he's took with his fits!"
+
+"You should send him away," said Claud, gravely. "Have you never thought
+that, if he is so strong, he might do somebody some harm in a fit of
+temper?"
+
+The woman looked attentive.
+
+"Well," she said, "I can't say I've ever give it much of a thought; but
+maybe you're right. But oh!" with a fresh access of tears, "I do call it
+hard to separate a poor widder from 'er only son! I do call it hard!"
+She set herself afresh to wipe her eyes, with shaking hands, reiterating
+her inconsistent complainings about the difficulties of managing Saul,
+and the cruelty of suggesting a separation; when suddenly, ceasing her
+whining and looking up, she said, "But you ain't told me the bit o'
+news, yet, have yer?"
+
+"You haven't given us much chance, my good woman," said Mr. Percivale.
+"The news is that young Mr. Godfrey Brabourne was found dead out on the
+cliffs this morning."
+
+As the words left his lips, a shuffling, thudding sound was heard, a
+door at the back of the little room was pushed open, and there stood
+Saul, leaning against the wall, attired merely in his shirt and
+trousers, the former open at the throat. His feet were bare, his thick
+yellow hair was matted, his cheeks were rosy and flushed; altogether he
+wore the look of having just that moment awakened from sleep.
+
+His great eyes, of Devon blue, looked out from beneath the tangled waves
+of hair with a shy smile. He recognised Claud, but, when his gaze fell
+on Percivale, his whole face changed. A look of fear and repulsion came
+over him--he uttered a hoarse cry or rather bellow, and, turning away,
+darted down a small dark passage and was lost to view.
+
+"There now! Did you ever!" cried his parent, indignantly. "Lord! what a
+fool the lad is! That's for nothing in life but because he seen you--"
+addressing Percivale, "and now he's gone to his hole, and nothing'll
+bring him out again perhaps for five or six hours, and nothing on him
+but his shirt and breeches! Oh, dear, dear, he'll kill me afore long,
+I'm blest if he won't!"
+
+"What do you mean by his hole?" asked Percivale.
+
+"It's a wood-shed as he's very partial to, an' hides all his treasures
+an' rubbish in there, out o' my reach. For it's very dark in there, and
+I can't get in very well, at least 'twouldn't be no use if I could,
+because I couldn't drive him out. I can't do nothing with him, when he's
+contrairy, and that's the truth, gentlemen."
+
+"But is it impossible to get into the woodshed?" continued Percivale,
+holding her to her point with a patience that made Claud marvel.
+
+"No, sir, but he's piled up the wood till you can only crawl in, and
+then as likely as not he'll hit you over the head," returned Mrs.
+Parker, encouragingly; "and it's that dark you can't see nothing when
+you _are_ in, so it's no sense to try, as I can see."
+
+"Why on earth don't you nail the place up when he's out, so that he
+_can't_ get in?" cried Claud, irritated beyond measure at her stupidity.
+
+"Well, I can't say I ever thought o' that," naively admitted the poor
+woman.
+
+"You are afraid Saul will take a chill if he stays there now?"
+interrogated Percivale.
+
+"I'm dead certain he will, sir!"
+
+"Very well, I'll go and fetch him out for you."
+
+"It ain't a bit o' use, sir," she cried, eagerly, "he'll never stir for
+you. He's mortal feared o' strange folks."
+
+"Never fear, I shall manage him," was the placid reply. "Give me a
+candle, will you?"
+
+He took the light in his hand, and followed the woman through the gloomy
+back regions of the little cottage to the wood-shed, the doorway of
+which was, as she had stated, barricaded with logs, in a sort of arch,
+so that only the lower half of it was practicable.
+
+"Saul! Are you in there?" cried his mother, shrilly.
+
+An idiotic gurgle of laughter, and a slight rustling, assured them of
+the fact.
+
+"If I push over this barricade, shall I hurt him?" asked Percivale.
+
+"No, sir, no--there's plenty of space beyond."
+
+"Here goes then," he answered; and placing his shoulder to the logs,
+handing the light to Claud, and getting a firm hold with his feet, he
+gave a vigorous heave, and the logs rolled clattering down, and about
+the shed.
+
+There was a scream from Saul, so loud and piercing that both young men
+thought he must be hurt. Snatching the candle, Percivale hurried in,
+over the prostrate defences. Saul was standing back against the wall, as
+far as he could get away, niched into a corner, his face hidden in his
+arms.
+
+"Come, Saul, my boy--come out of this dark place," said the intruder, in
+kindly tones. "Come--look at me--what is there to be afraid of?"
+
+The boy removed his screening arm from before his eyes with the pretty
+coquetry of a shy baby. He had apparently forgotten his rage, for he
+laughed--a low, chuckling laugh--and fixed his look appealingly on the
+stranger.
+
+"What made you run away--eh?" asked Percivale, gently.
+
+But no answer could be extorted from Saul. He would only laugh, hide his
+face, and peep again, with coy looks, from under his long lashes.
+
+Percivale flashed a look round him, and decided on making a venture to
+arouse some consciousness. By the light of the candle he held, every
+line of the lad's face was distinctly visible. Outside, Mrs. Parker was
+talking too volubly to Claud to hear what he might say.
+
+"Saul," he said, "where is Master Godfrey?"
+
+For a moment a spasm of terror crossed the beautiful face--a look which
+somehow suggested the dim return of intelligence once possessed; for it
+seemed evident that Saul had not always been absolutely idiotic, but
+that what brain he had had gradually been destroyed by epilepsy. His
+eyes dwelt with a look of speculation on those of his questioner, and
+his lips parted as if an answer were forced from him.
+
+"Out there!" he whispered.
+
+"What, out on the cliffs?"
+
+He nodded.
+
+"Is he dead--is Master Godfrey dead?" said Percivale, still keeping his
+eyes fixed on his by a strong effort of will.
+
+Saul nodded again.
+
+"Dead," he said, "quite dead! Naughty boy!"
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXX.
+
+                            East, west,
+    North, south I looked. The lie was dead
+    And damned, and Truth stood up instead.
+
+    _Count Gismond._
+
+
+Henry Fowler came out of the stables with heavy gait, and face from
+which the genial curves had fled. To-night you saw him in all his native
+plainness,--his leaden-colored eyes, unredeemed by the steady beam of
+cheery benevolence which usually dwelt there--his roughly-cut,
+ill-formed features, unsoftened by the suggestion of kindly peace which
+was their wonted expression.
+
+Figuratively speaking, he was smitten to the earth--humbled, abased, as
+he had never dreamed he could be. No room was in his mind for doubt. He
+saw, as he imagined, only too plainly, the whole of the tragedy on the
+cliffs--saw Elsa's very attitude and expression as, goaded to fury by
+the impudence of the boy, she had dealt him a wild, blind blow, the
+outcome of weeks and weeks of pent-up rage and dislike.
+
+Had she only told him, at once! Had she, on meeting him and Claud in the
+lane, only seized him, clung to him, cried for help and dragged him to
+the rescue, even though too late. But no! Her first impulse had been to
+hide what she had done. It was so fatally of a piece with his idea of
+her character. What to do--how to face the Misses Willoughby he could
+not tell.
+
+Once before--more than twenty years ago now--his life had been laid in
+ruins at his feet by the news of Alice Willoughby's engagement to
+Colonel Brabourne. Now, by Alice's child, this second bitter blow
+descended on the head of him who had borne the first so well and
+uncomplainingly.
+
+His one interest in life centred in Elsa Brabourne. The morning's
+intelligence had seemed to paralyse him. Like a man smitten suddenly in
+the face, he was left breathless--unable to rally or to fix on any plan
+of action.
+
+He was just returned from Philmouth, where he had been to interview the
+coroner and to make what arrangements were necessary. But, now that it
+was done, he could not remember whether he had done it or not. The whole
+drive there and back was a confused blur in his mind--he wondered
+whether he had managed to conduct himself rationally, to explain himself
+adequately. Before his eyes, as plainly as if he saw it still, was the
+picture of a child's pallid face, peaked and grey with death, dashed
+here and there with blood, and in its expression horridly, fatally
+resembling Elsa.
+
+Turn where he would, he saw it, with the lips discolored, the large eyes
+wide open, the little childish hands clenched in the agony of the sudden
+fruitless wrestle with death.
+
+"If she saw it," he repeated to himself, "if she saw it, would it not
+have sent her mad? So young as she is--she has never seen death! Oh,
+merciful God, is it possible she could have looked at him and kept her
+reason?"
+
+It was dark: the moon had not yet risen above the black hillside, and in
+the stables everything was very still. George the groom moved to and fro
+with a stable lantern in the harness-room above, and the shaft of light
+which gleamed down the staircase was the only light there was. George
+knew his master was in trouble, and longed to comfort him. Mr. Fowler
+was one of those who are always liked, and always well served by their
+inferiors. Everything about his house and estate was in excellent order.
+He never raised his voice, but his commands were always instantly
+obeyed.
+
+Here, in the stable, everything was trim and fresh, smelling of new-mown
+hay. Dart, the pretty little black mare, knowing that her master was
+somewhere near, turned her head wistfully to seek him. But he saw and
+heard nothing of his surroundings. In fancy, he was standing on the
+cliff, in the wind and sunshine, looking down upon a child's corpse.
+
+He felt as though he must suffocate.
+
+Rousing himself, he groped towards the door, pushed it open, and let the
+night air fan him. The rush of the brook through the garden sounded in
+his ears. Down, away across the valley, was the dark water in the bay,
+the hulk of the yacht dimly discernible through the faint mist. A wild
+idea crossed his mind as to whether it might not be possible to take
+Elsa secretly on board of the _Swan_, weigh anchor in the night, and
+carry away the girl to some other land, where a home might be made for
+her. A moment's reflection served to show the absurdity of such a
+scheme, and he laughed bitterly to himself as he realised the
+impossibility of casting such a record behind in the girl's life, and
+starting fresh again.
+
+Oh, to be able to go back for twenty-four hours! to be again, if but for
+one minute, the happy man he was when he walked at Claud's side through
+the storm to Brent. If the intervening minutes could be wiped out, as
+one wipes a child's sum from a slate, with a wet sponge!
+
+No use, no use, to cry out against the inevitable. Somehow or another,
+this horror which had come upon him must be lived through. He must not
+only bear it, but help others to bear it too.
+
+Slowly emerging from the stable, he shut the door behind him with a
+click; and, as he did so, he became aware of a sound of hurrying
+footsteps, of some one coming fast over the wooden bridge which spanned
+the brook, and making for the house with all speed.
+
+It was Claud, and there was in his manner such unusual velocity and
+vehemence that Mr. Fowler started forward, and ran hastily after him.
+
+They met in the hall. Claud had just flung the door wide, and was making
+the rafters ring with cries of, "Fowler! Fowler, I say!" when the owner
+of the name rushed in with white face and eager eyes, expecting he knew
+not what.
+
+Claud was in such a state as his host had never before witnessed; his
+hat was off, his cheeks glowing, his collar and tie awry, his usually
+immaculate hair all a standing mass of fluff, blown hither and thither
+by the wind, and his quiet eyes like two stars in their brilliancy and
+excitement.
+
+"Cranmer, my good fellow, what is it?" faltered Henry.
+
+"What is it? Why, the best news you ever heard in all your life! That
+extraordinary fellow Percivale has done the whole thing! There's not a
+doubt of it. Saul Parker was the assailant of Allonby and the murderer
+of poor little Godfrey! The whole thing is as clear as daylight!" Henry
+put out a hand uncertainly, as if to feel for the support of the wall.
+Claud darted to him, took the hand, and placed it on his own shoulder
+instead. "Look up, old man," he said, unable to keep his lips from
+smiles, his eyes from dancing. "All this is true as Gospel that I'm
+telling you."
+
+Henry cleared his throat once or twice. Then--
+
+"It can't be," he said, huskily, "it can't be. It's preposterous. What
+proof have you?"
+
+"The proof of Saul's coat and waistcoat soaked in blood--the proof of
+Godfrey's pocket-handkerchief steeped also in blood, rolled into a ball
+in the pocket of his jacket; and, last of all, what do you think, my
+friend? The proof of Mrs. Clapp's pudding-basin, tied up in the original
+and genuine blue handkerchief!"
+
+The face of agitation which Mr. Fowler turned to the speaker was pitiful
+to see.
+
+"You--you mean this," he said speaking thickly, like a drunken man; "you
+would never jest on such a subject--eh, lad?"
+
+"Jest? Is it likely? Do I look as if I were jesting? I can tell you I
+don't feel so. I couldn't put on that pace for a jest. My throat is as
+sore as if I were sickening for scarlet fever, and my heart feels as if
+it would burst through my ribs. I ran--all the way--from Parker's
+cottage--to tell you about it."
+
+Henry was grasping him by both shoulders now, and clinging to him as if
+the floor were unsteady beneath his feet.
+
+"You ran to tell me," he repeated, mechanically--"to tell me--what?
+Claud, if this is true, it means life to me--life to those good women
+yonder--it means _salvation_ for her, for my poor little girl, for
+Elsa!"
+
+His forehead sank on his outstretched arm, and his broad shoulders
+quivered.
+
+Claud softly patted his back, his own bright face all alight with
+unselfish gladness.
+
+"It's all true," he said, "true beyond your power to disbelieve. That
+Percivale is a wonderful fellow. Once he struck the scent, he stuck to
+it like a sleuth-hound. Every bit of evidence tallies exactly. The
+whole thing is as clear as daylight. All I marvel at now is that Saul
+Parker has been allowed to be at large for so long--how it was that
+nobody insisted on his being shut up."
+
+"But I never knew he was really dangerous," said Henry. "Such a thing as
+a murderous attack, I mean--I knew that lately he had taken to throwing
+stones, and I told him the other day that I should flog him if I found
+it out again. He has sense enough to know what he is not to do--that is
+what makes him so difficult to deal with. But that he should attempt
+murder!"
+
+"I remember him so well, in the Battishills' kitchen, the day he nearly
+did for poor Allonby," said Claud. "He must have hidden his
+pudding-basin, after eating the contents, somewhere in a hedge, and
+walked, calmly smiling, up to the farm, immediately after his first
+attempt at slaughter. Ugh! It's a grisly thought, isn't it, that we all
+have been walking calmly about all this summer with such a sword of
+Damocles over our heads. Why, those girls--the Miss Allonbys--he might
+have attacked them at any moment; they were all strangers."
+
+"Yes, but they had spoken to him, and been kind to him. Poor Godfrey
+owes his fate to his own malignity, I am afraid," said Henry, turning
+away with a heavy sigh. He passed his hand over his brow as if to clear
+it, and then, lifting his eyes to Claud's, smiled for the first time in
+many hours. "I feel as if you had waked me out of a nightmare," he
+said--"a horror that was overwhelming--that shut out everything, even
+hope ... and God. Now that it is over, I wonder how I could have brought
+myself to believe such a thing of her." He spoke slowly, and at
+intervals, as each thought occurred to him. "Poor child! poor slandered
+child! Claud, she must know it to-night. We must save her so many hours
+of suffering--we must tell her now. Where is Mr. Percivale?"
+
+"He is gone there--straight--to Edge. I parted from him at the
+cross-roads, and ran up here for you."
+
+"He has every right to be first," faltered Henry. "Will anything I can
+do for Elsa ever atone for the wrong of my unjust suspicion? God pardon
+me! I was _sure_ she was guilty."
+
+"You had strong grounds."
+
+"I never dreamed of connecting it in any way with poor Allonby's
+disaster. I never thought of it in connection with anything else at all.
+It simply seemed to flare out upon me like a conflagration, blotting out
+everything else in the world. It numbed my faculties."
+
+"I know it did. Never mind, now,. It is all right, the darkness is over
+past, the horror is slain. Come, shall we go to Edge?"
+
+"Yes, Claud. God bless you, my boy--you thought of me--you would not go
+on without me. We must be close friends after this, all our lives."
+
+"We shall--I hope and believe."
+
+The young man set the door wide. The lamp from the hall streamed out
+into the quiet night. The soft rustling of the trees mingled with the
+rushing of the falling brook. Walking down the grassy slope, they came
+upon the bridge. A silent, solitary figure stood upon it, leaning upon
+the parapet and gazing down upon the unseen but vocal waters as they
+hurried past.
+
+"Percivale!" said Claud, with a start.
+
+"Yes." He roused himself, and answered as tranquilly as if that day had
+passed in the most ordinary routine. "I thought it was unfair to steal a
+march upon you both, so I followed you here, and waited."
+
+"Then you have not been to Edge?"
+
+"Not yet."
+
+Without another word they set off walking as fast as they could. Henry
+longed for words to thank and bless the young man at his side; but the
+tongue does not always obey the will, and he found none.
+
+The dew was heavy on the pastures; the last remnants of wind were
+dropping down to sleep. Life and the world seemed now as full of repose
+as this morning they had been instinct with tragedy, and with rapid,
+terrifying motion. No glimmer in any of the cottages, no moon to light
+the rich purple recesses of darkness which enveloped the sea. Henry led
+the way among the winding foot-paths--a way which he could have trodden
+blindfold--the others followed in complete silence.
+
+As they neared the house, a solitary light appeared,--it was in Miss
+Ellen's window.
+
+Henry threw some pebbles up at the glass, and presently the pane was
+opened, and the invalid appeared. She was still quite dressed.
+
+"Let us in, Miss Ellen," said Mr. Fowler, in subdued accents. "Let us
+in--we could not rest till morning. Mr. Percivale has news for you."
+
+"One moment--I will send some one down to you."
+
+She disappeared, and for several silent minutes they waited in the
+porch. A great bush of lemon-scented verbena grew there. Claud used to
+pull a leaf of it and crush it in his hand whenever he came in or out.
+Now, in the still night, the strong fragrance reeked from it, and to
+each of the three men waiting there, that scent always afterwards
+recalled that scene.
+
+The bolts were drawn at last, and there stood Jane Gollop, in night
+attire of the most wondrous aspect.
+
+"Come in, gentlemen," said she, in subdued accents and a husky voice
+which told of bitter weeping. "You must come upstairs into Miss
+Willoughby's room, if you wish to see her; as you know, she can't come
+down to you. Will you kindly tread very softly, please?"
+
+"I'll wait down here for you two," whispered Claud.
+
+"No, no, my boy. Come up with me," returned Mr. Fowler, firmly.
+
+In single file they followed Jane up the staircase, in a silence broken
+only by the ticking of the great clock on the stairs.
+
+Miss Ellen sat upright on her sofa, awaiting them. As they entered, she
+held up a warning finger, and said, "Hush!"
+
+Following the direction of her eyes, they noticed that a screen had been
+drawn round the bed, hiding it from view. They waited, and so silent
+were they, that from behind this screen a low, regular breathing was
+audible.
+
+Miss Willoughby looked at her visitors with a sort of defiance--a noble
+defiance--on her worn face. Her eyes were luminous and steadfast.
+
+"I don't know what is your errand here to-night," she said, speaking
+scarcely above a whisper,--"something very important, I feel sure; but,
+before any of you speak one word, I have something to say, and something
+to show you. Henry Fowler, I believe we are wronging Elaine."
+
+He started, and turned towards her.
+
+"Yes; I feel sure we are wronging her--so sure, that it amounts, with
+me, to a moral conviction of her innocence. I want to tell you, all
+three, before a word has been said--before anything is proved either
+way--that I am confident that my niece is altogether innocent. I would
+say the same if a jury had condemned her to death. She had no share in
+this crime. I am glad you are all here--I will take your opinion. Henry,
+fold back the screen, as noiselessly as possible, and tell me, all of
+you, if that sleep is the sleep of conscious guilt."
+
+In a dead silence Henry went forward, and moved away the screen.
+
+Stretched on the bed lay Elsa, all her golden shower of hair loose, and
+streaming over the pillows. She wore a pale blue wrapper, and Miss Ellen
+had thrown a shawl across her feet to prevent her taking a chill. The
+girl's whole attitude was that of weariness, and profound, healthy,
+natural repose. The soft, warm rose of sleep was on each cheek, the
+black-fringed lids hid the large eyes, the breathing was as regular as
+that of an infant, and the expression exquisitely sweet.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXXI.
+
+                                           He looked,
+    Ocean and earth, the solid frame of earth
+    And ocean's liquid mass beneath him lay
+    In gladness and deep joy. The clouds were touched,
+    And in their silent faces did he read
+    Unutterable love....
+    No thanks he breathed, he proffered no request;
+    Rapt with still communion that transcends
+    The imperfect offices of prayer and praise,
+    His mind was a thanksgiving to the Power
+    That made him; it was blessedness and love!
+
+    _The Excursion._
+
+
+Spell-bound, the three gentlemen stood looking at the sleeping girl,
+till the pause was broken by Miss Ellen.
+
+"Well?" she said, "what do you think?"
+
+Henry Fowler opened his lips to speak, but closed them again, with a
+glance at Percivale.
+
+The glance was unheeded, the young man was standing with a look on his
+face which, for some inexplicable reason, made Henry's heart leap in his
+side. So might Adam have looked on Eve when first he saw her sleeping--a
+look of intense admiration, mixed with a reverence that was almost
+worship. He seems to have forgotten everything but the fact that he
+stood there, by a wonderful chance, gazing at this consecrated girlish
+slumber.
+
+Claud, who stood next him, at last put out his hand, and lightly touched
+his arm. He started.
+
+"Will you tell Miss Willoughby?" whispered Claud.
+
+He shook his head.
+
+"Let Mr. Fowler tell her," he replied, gently.
+
+"You have not answered my question--do you believe in her innocence?"
+said Miss Ellen, appealing to all three.
+
+"We know she is innocent, dear Miss Ellen. Mr. Percivale has proved it."
+
+It was too much; she uttered a cry, and, at the cry, Elsa started from
+sleep, and sat upright, pushing back her cloudy hair, and in speechless
+bewilderment at finding herself in her aunt's room, still half dressed,
+and in presence of three gentlemen. The lovely crimson flooded her face
+as she tried to collect her thoughts, and to rise.
+
+A scene of some confusion ensued.
+
+Miss Ellen, in her agitation, was trying to ask for an explanation, with
+her voice dissolved in tears. Elsa, springing from the bed, moved
+towards her, still half-awake, vaguely troubled--foreseeing some fresh
+catastrophe; and then Mr. Fowler caught her in his arms, kissing her and
+somewhat incoherently imploring her to forgive him, while Percivale
+stood at a little distance, speaking only with his eyes. And those eyes
+set the girl's heart throbbing and raised a wild tumult in her. So by
+degrees everything was explained, nobody exactly knew how; but, in the
+course of half-an-hour, Elsa knew that she was saved, and that she owed
+her salvation solely to him who stood before her, with his head lowered,
+and the lamplight gilding the soft, downy, curling mass of his hair.
+They did not stay long. It was he who hurried them away, that they might
+not break in too far on the girl's rest.
+
+Miss Willoughby could hardly let him go. Something about this young
+man's whole appearance and manner appealed wonderfully to her
+sympathies. She held his hand long in hers, looking at him with eyes
+swimming in grateful tears.
+
+"You know," he said, with a smile, "you will insist on so greatly
+exaggerating what I have done; it was quite simple and obvious; I merely
+set on foot an investigation."
+
+"It may have been simple and obvious, but it never occurred to anybody
+but you," said Claud, bluntly.
+
+"No; because you were all biassed. I told you so. I am very sorry for
+that poor mother--for Mrs. Parker. I shall go to her early next morning.
+It was pitiful to see her. She was so utterly without the least
+suspicion of what I was driving at, that I felt like a traitor, worming
+myself into her confidence. Good-night, Miss Brabourne. You will sleep
+again, I hope."
+
+"I don't know, I don't feel the least bit sleepy," said Elsa,
+feverishly; "and it is nearly morning now, you know."
+
+Henry started.
+
+"Is it so late? I had no idea. Come, we must be off at once."
+
+Outside, the blackness of the night was just decreasing. The clouds
+which had gathered in the evening were rolling away, leaving gaps full
+of pallid stars. A chill cold pierced the limbs, and the heavy dew of
+autumn bathed all the vegetation.
+
+"You will come home with us, of course?" said Mr. Fowler to Percivale.
+
+"No, thanks, I can't. I must go aboard my _Swan_. The men are waiting
+for me on the shore."
+
+"All this time? Are you sure?"
+
+"Quite sure. Good-night."
+
+"Nay, nay; we'll see you down to the beach. Your crew may have grown
+tired of waiting, in which case you must come to Lower House."
+
+They walked on for some time indulging in desultory conversation, when
+suddenly Henry remarked to Claud,
+
+"Poor Allonby ought to know of this."
+
+Percivale turned towards him, and looked searchingly at him. It was
+light enough for them to see each other's faces now.
+
+"There is no engagement between Mr. Allonby and Miss Brabourne?" he
+asked.
+
+"No, none. I see more than ever now how wise I was to refuse to allow
+it. He is a good fellow, but she did not really care for him--she does
+not know what love means--she had never met a young man till this
+summer. I told him he must give her time. Personally I like him. He has
+no money and has no prospects, but I do not think he is a
+fortune-hunter. Let her go through the fire of a year in London, and
+find out what her tastes and inclinations really are."
+
+Percivale listened to all this with a rivetted attention, but made no
+reply; and now they were on the beach, their steps crunching upon the
+shingle.
+
+A seaman stood, with his broad back turned to them, looking out over the
+smooth, leaden expanse of sea. In the boat a second man was fast asleep.
+Out in the bay, a lamp glimmered, showing the graceful shadowy outline
+of the yacht.
+
+"Mueller!" said Percivale.
+
+The man turned at once. His master addressed him in German, in a glad
+voice which left little doubt as to the tidings he was relating. A broad
+grin gradually broke over the man's face, and he waved his cap
+ecstatically, shouting hurrah! Then he ran to rouse his companion, who
+was soon acquainted with the joyful news, and a grand shaking of hands
+all round took place. Then Percivale, taking leave of Henry and Claud,
+stepped into the boat, and the keel grated on the beach as it slipped
+into the chill, steely colored waters. The two on the beach stood
+together, watching as the oars dipped, and the waves broke softly. It
+was a sight worth watching, for a marvellous change was coming over the
+world, a change so mysterious, so exciting, so full of beauty, that they
+began to wonder, as all of us have wondered in our time, why they were
+not oftener awake to see the breaking of the day.
+
+A scarlet flush was rimming the east, and a glow began to creep over the
+dull sea. Further and further it spread, while everything around took
+clear and definite form. The cliffs, the landslip, the coastguard
+station, the shore, all grew out gradually and yet rapidly from the
+darkness, and every moment the color waxed more bright, and the sky,
+which had seemed so dense, became translucent and dark blue, while one
+by one the pale stars went out, extinguished by the rosy-fingered Eos.
+
+A cold fresh breeze whistled by, and Claud shivered as it passed. It
+reminded him of the sad sighing of old Tithonus, left helpless in the
+cold regions of the dark, whilst Aurora, warm and blooming, sprang up to
+meet the sun. Unconsciously to himself, he wished that Wynifred Allonby
+stood by him to watch that dawn--she would have understood. He could
+not talk of Tithonus to Henry Fowler. His eye roamed over
+
+    "The ever silent spaces of the East,
+    Far-folded mists, and gleaming halls of morn."
+
+Ah! what was that which shivered like a silver arrow through the dull
+haze that brooded over the sluggish waters? The mist had become
+transparent, golden, luminous--such a glory as might any moment break
+away to disclose the New Jerusalem coming down out of the heaven of
+heavens.
+
+And now the whole sea was one mass of pearly and rose and amber light,
+which had not as yet faded into "the light of common day." All was
+illusion--the infancy of day, the time of fairy-tales, like that
+childhood of the world when wonders happened, and "Ilion, like a mist,
+rose into towers."
+
+A slight exclamation from Henry broke his musing, and made him turn his
+head.
+
+The _Swan_ lay motionless, her whiteness warmed and softened by the
+still mysterious light, till it looked almost like the plumage of the
+bird whose name she bore. The radiance gleamed on the motionless sails,
+and shimmered on the sea all round her.
+
+Close to the prow stood Percivale. He had taken off his coat, and looked
+all white as he stood in the glow. Lifting his hat, he waved it to the
+watchers on the shore, with a gesture like that of one victorious, and,
+as he did so, up darted the sun with a leap above the sea, and its first
+ray shot straight across the sparkling water, to rest on his fair head
+like a benediction.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXXII.
+
+    But most of all would I flee from the cruel madness of love.
+
+    _Maud._
+
+
+There was a deep silence between Fowler and Claud as they walked
+homewards in that dewy autumn dawn. Every moment increased the beauty of
+the scene through which they walked--the little brooks which continually
+crossed their path rushed vehemently, swollen with the heavy rain which
+had fallen on the night of the storm. A balmy feeling was in the still
+air--a full, ripe feeling of autumn, and even now the beams of the sun
+were warm. It was going to be a hot day, such a day as shooters love
+amongst the stubble--such a day as swells the blackberry to a luscious
+bulk and flavor. Autumn in her warmth and beauty and her panoply of
+varying moods; not summer back again. She, as Claud had divined, was
+gone for this year, not to return again; she had died shrieking, in the
+storm that drove the _Swan_ into Brent Bay, and the wild sou'-wester had
+sung her obsequies.
+
+Is there anything more wonderful in nature than the rich moisture with
+which an English autumn night will deluge every spray and every leaf and
+every grass-blade? The pastures this morning were hoary with pearly
+drops, the beeches and ashes literally drenched with wet, which showered
+itself on the heads of the two as a light bird clung to the bough and
+set it swaying. Already the sun was drawing it up like steam from the
+contented land, making a mist which hid the windings of the valley from
+their view.
+
+It pleased Claud to imagine that the old earth was at her toilette--had
+just emerged, dripping, from her matutinal tub. This conceit reminded
+him of his own tub, for which he had a strong hankering. He did not feel
+sleepy; a bath and a cigar were all that he desired.
+
+What a strange night it had been!
+
+This particular summer had brought him more new sensations, more
+experiences than all the rest of his life put together. He felt as if it
+had altered him, somehow. He was not the same person who had been
+stopped as he drove along the Philmouth Road by a girl with scared face
+and streaming hair. Circumstances over which he, apparently, had very
+little control had forced him to remain here in this valley, and for the
+space of one summer, look at life from a totally new point of view. He
+was wondering whether it would last. For the first time he had met men
+and women who, his inferiors in social standing, were yet his equals in
+breeding and manners--a man like Henry Fowler, probably a son of the
+soil, the descendant of generations of farmers, who in chivalry and in
+purity of mind would put many a Lord Harry of his acquaintance to shame;
+girls like the Allonbys, who worked for their living, yet in delicacy
+and refinement--ay, and looks too,--equalled all and surpassed most of
+the women who formed the "set" he moved in.
+
+He had always imagined himself a leveller at heart, one who ignored
+social distinctions. Now he had been given opportunity to put his
+theories into practice; and he found, as most people do, that theory and
+practice are different in some mysterious way. A struggle was going on
+in his mind, a struggle of which he was hardly conscious, and of which,
+had he put it into words, he would have been heartily ashamed. The point
+at issue was a small one, but, like the proverbial straw, it showed
+which way the current flowed.
+
+Should he, when in town, call on the Allonbys? That was the point that
+vexed his mind--the point that was never quite out of sight, even in all
+the congested excitement of the last two days. As he walked up the
+meadow footpath to-day, towards Lower House, it was his fixed intention
+to call upon them; but would that intention hold a month hence, as he
+strolled down Portland Place towards the parental mansion? That was the
+trouble. Was this fancy which possessed him now--this fancy for a life
+in the country, with only a small income and the society of one woman, a
+fancy only? Or was it something more? Would it wash? Such was the slangy
+but forcible way in which he expressed it. He could not be sure. His
+mind was so tossed and disturbed that he felt as though, either way he
+decided, he must infallibly regret it.
+
+The idea of never seeing Wynifred again was anything but pleasant; the
+idea of having her always at his side was too vague to be wholly
+comforting. He believed he should like a middle course--her society when
+he felt inclined for it, now and then, but no binding down in the
+matter. And yet he felt dimly that this idea could not be worked,
+exactly, and this for more than one reason. First, because he felt sure
+that, if he ever saw her at all, his feelings with regard to her could
+not remain stationary. He must grow to want her either less or more.
+Secondly, because his notions of honor were strict, and he felt that, if
+he, an earl's son, sought out the Allonbys, and appeared bent on the
+society of Wynifred in particular, it might be unpleasant for her, if
+nothing came of it.
+
+And then, suddenly, arose the reflection that all this reasoning was
+based on the supposition that Miss Allonby would have him if she could;
+a point on which, when he came to consider it, he felt by no means
+certain.
+
+This was humiliating. As they came to the wicket-gate of Lower House, he
+finally decided _not_ to call at Mansfield Road. He was not going to be
+made a fool of.
+
+And, even as he made this resolution, arose the wild desire to go and
+narrate to Wynifred in person the tragic details of the past forty-eight
+hours. She would appreciate it so.... How her mind would seize on every
+point, how she would listen to him with that expression of eager
+interest which he could always awaken on any other subject but that of
+himself.
+
+This brought his mind to the memory of their conversation about Elaine
+that afternoon in the boat. He remembered her guarded answers and the
+unfair way in which he had pressed her to give opinions which she had
+seemed sorry to have to hold.
+
+"She was wrong about Miss Brabourne," he reflected. "We have all been
+wrong about her, all misjudged her--even Fowler, who ought to know her
+so well."
+
+At the date of the above-mentioned conversation, his distrust of Elsa
+had certainly equalled if not gone beyond Wynifred's; now, the revulsion
+of feeling was complete.
+
+Nothing in this world so enlists the sympathies of mankind as the victim
+of an unjust suspicion. Elsa had been under the shadow of the darkest of
+accusations. She was now declared to be innocent as the day. Claud's
+heart turned to her, as the heart of anyone calling himself a man must
+infallibly do. He felt as though his strictly neutral position had been
+the direst of insults--as though he wanted to kneel at her feet and kiss
+the hem of her garment. Percivale had not been neutral--he had seen, had
+known the falseness of the monstrous charge; Claud thought he would like
+to be in his place now just for four-and-twenty hours. He must be the
+hero of the moment, as Elsa was the heroine.
+
+And what a heroine! The remembrance of the girl as she lay asleep,
+framed in her wealth of hair, flashed vividly upon him as they reached
+the hall door.
+
+"By Jove! She is beautiful!" he said, quite unconscious that he spoke
+aloud.
+
+Henry paused, with his latch-key in his hand and looked at him with an
+amused gleam in his eyes.
+
+"What!" said he, "you too!"
+
+Claud started, laughed, flushed deeply, and shook his head.
+
+"Oh, no--not that," he said. "Not that at all. Of course I am a
+worshipper at the shrine of injured innocence and persecuted
+beauty--every knight-errant must be that, you know; but no more. I
+wonder why?"
+
+"You wonder why what?"
+
+"I wonder why I am not madly in love with Miss Brabourne. I fully
+intended to be, at one time. Why shouldn't I be? I don't understand it."
+
+"I can tell you why, if you care to know," said Henry, smiling quietly
+to himself as he set open the door, and crossed his threshold.
+
+"Oh, it's of no consequence; thank you," said Claud, with suspicious
+hurry, and reddening slightly.
+
+"No? Well, perhaps you are wise," was the grave answer. "I find that
+young people mostly _are_ very prudent in these days. It would be quite
+a relief occasionally to see a man carried away by the strength of his
+feelings."
+
+Claud looked earnestly at him.
+
+"Don't you think a man ought to have himself well in hand?" he asked.
+
+"Oh, I suppose so; but I am not such a believer in the universality of
+self-discipline in the young men of the day. They don't control their
+desires for high play, costly cigars, horses, wine, or enjoyment
+generally. It is only in the matter of marriage that I have noticed this
+singular discretion overtakes them. Don't you think one may safely
+attribute it to another motive than self-control? Caution is often
+merely a name for selfishness."
+
+"And you think this applies to me?" said Claud, slowly, hanging up his
+cap with deliberation. "I don't say you're wrong. But it's a nice point,
+which I should like to get settled for me--which is the least lovable
+course? To decline to obey the dictates of your heart from motives of
+prudence, or to follow the lead of your feelings, and so drag down to
+poverty the woman you profess to love, but in reality only desire to
+possess?"
+
+"My dear fellow," said Henry, affectionately, "you are taking this too
+seriously. It's a question one can't well discuss in the abstract,
+particularly now, when you look as haggard as a ghost and are ready to
+drop with fatigue. Come, you must really get some rest. It is seven
+o'clock, I declare, and you have been on your legs for four-and-twenty
+hours."
+
+Claud did certainly looked fagged now that the full light of high day
+fell on his pale face. He sat down on the lowest stair, yawned,
+stretched, and asked, sleepily,
+
+"What time is the inquest?"
+
+"Twelve o'clock. You go straight upstairs, I'll send you your breakfast
+in a quarter-of-an-hour, and then you are to lie down and get two or
+three hours' sleep. I'll have you called in time. Come, get up."
+
+Claud remained immovable.
+
+"I wonder who he is," he said at last.
+
+"Whom?"
+
+"Percivale. I should like to know."
+
+"You won't find out by sitting on the staircase, my boy. Come, do go."
+
+"All right--I'm going. Whoever he is, he's a trump, and that's something
+to know about a fellow."
+
+The "trump" in question had been swimming vigorously in the glittering,
+lively sea for a quarter-of-an-hour. He emerged from the water
+invigorated and glowing, with the drops in his red-gold hair.
+
+His crew had a hot breakfast ready for him, to which when dressed he did
+ample justice; and then giving orders to be waked, and for the boat to
+be in readiness at eleven, he stretched himself on a sofa which they had
+brought on deck, and prepared to sleep.
+
+This, however, was more easily said than done. He had never felt more
+wide awake in his life. Stretched on his back, his arms under his head,
+the light motion of the blue waters lulling him gently, he lay and
+thought over all that had happened. The sunshine poured down upon him,
+and everything was very still. Now and again there was the white flash
+of a passing bird, shaft-like through the air; now and then a low,
+guttural German laugh, as his crew sat together discussing this latest
+adventure of their roving master.
+
+Elaine's face was present to his fancy--so vividly that he had only to
+close his eyes to see every detail of it. The startled expression, the
+wistful gaze, the exquisite complexion, the golden shower that framed
+her.
+
+The words of a favorite poetess of his seemed saying themselves over in
+his brain:
+
+    "And, if any painter drew her,
+    He would take her, unaware,
+    With an aureole round the hair."
+
+His heart began to beat loudly at the thought of seeing her again so
+soon. How beautiful she was! What would she look like if she stood
+there--just there on the white deck of the _Swan_, with a background of
+flickering sea and melting air, and a face from which horror and appeal
+were gone, leaving only the fair graciousness of maidenhood? The thought
+was delicious. Raising himself on his elbow, he looked around. How
+pretty his yacht was! How glad he felt that this was so. Was it good
+enough to bear the pressure of her little foot? Dare he invite her to
+come on board, even if only for a moment, that he might always hereafter
+feel the joy of knowing that her presence had been there?
+
+And what when she had gone again--when the few moments were over, and
+she had departed, taking with her all light from the skies, and all
+heart from life?
+
+He tried to fancy what his feelings might be, when again the anchor was
+weighed, and he should see the coast receding behind the swift _Swan_.
+Could he bear it? That seemed the question. Was it possible that he
+should bid good-bye to this valley as he had bid good-bye to so many a
+fair spot before?
+
+He tossed himself impatiently over. He could not do it. No, no, and
+again no! Was he Vanderdecken, that he should fly from place to place
+and find no rest? Was this roving so very pleasant, after all?... what
+had been the charm of it?... And he was certainly very lonely. Doubtless
+it was a selfish life. He knew he had adopted it for reason good and
+sufficient--a reason which had not been of his own seeking. But now----
+
+He sprang from his sofa and wandered to and fro on the deck. That
+restlessness was upon him which comes to all of us, when suddenly we
+discover that the life which we have hitherto found sufficient is
+henceforth impossible to us. Looking steadily into the future, facing it
+squarely, as his manner was, he recoiled for a moment. For he seemed to
+see, in a single flash, all his life culminating in one end--all the
+love of his heart fixed upon one object.
+
+How much he required of her? Suppose--suppose----Oh, fate, fate, how
+many possibilities arose to vex his soul! Suppose she loved Allonby.
+Suppose she should never be able to care for him--Percivale. And then
+arose in his heart a mighty and determined will to carry this thing
+through, and make her love him. At that moment he felt a power surge
+within him which nothing could withstand. As he stood there on the deck,
+he was already a conqueror;--he had slain the monster--surely he could
+win the heart of the maiden, as all doughty champions were wont to do.
+
+The mist was broken away now, and the roof of Edge Willoughby--the roof
+which sheltered Elsa--was visible to his eyes. He sent an unspoken
+blessing across the water towards it.
+
+The restlessness began to subside.
+
+He threw himself again on the sofa, and this time the wooing air seemed
+to creep into his brain and make him drowsy. His thoughts lost their
+continuity and became scrappy, disjointed, hazy. At last fatigue
+asserted its empire finally. The lids closed over the steadfast eyes;
+and the young champion slept, with his cheek pillowed on his arm, and
+his strong limbs stretched out in a delicious lassitude.
+
+The sailors crept, one after the other, to look upon him as he slept.
+Old Mueller, who had held him in his arms as a baby, gazed down at him
+with fond triumph. There was little he could not do, this young master
+of theirs, they proudly thought, and, as Mueller noted the noble
+innocence of the sleeping face, it recalled to him vividly the deathbed
+of the young mother of eighteen, as she lay broken-hearted, sinking away
+out of life in far off Littsdoff, a remote village of north Germany. A
+tear slid down his weather-stained face, as he thought in his
+sentimental German way how proud that poor child would have been of her
+son could she have lived to know his future.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXXIII.
+
+    The air broke into a mist with bells,
+    The steeple rocked with the crowd, and cries;
+    Had I said "Good folks, mere noise repels,
+    But give me your sun from yonder skies,"
+    They had answered--"And afterwards what else?"
+
+    _The Patriot._
+
+
+The inquest was held at the school-house.
+
+For two hours the excitement in the village had been something
+tremendous. A huge crowd had assembled outside the school to watch the
+proceedings, and had recognised the various arrivals with breathless
+awe. First of all Mr. and Mrs. Orton, in a hired fly from Stanton, the
+dark and menacing brows of the lady boding ill for all her adversaries.
+By special request of Mr. Fowler, who had been roused by her to the most
+furious pitch of which his gentle nature was capable, all tidings of Mr.
+Percivale's discoveries had been kept from them. They swept in, greeted
+by a faint hissing from the rural population, and Mrs. Orton broke
+afresh into loud grief at sight of the sheet which covered poor little
+Godfrey's body.
+
+Next arrived the coroner, driven by Mr. Fowler in his own dog-cart, and
+two other official-looking personages, who walked straight in, while Mr.
+Fowler nodded to some of those who stood near, with a steady
+cheerfulness so unlike his crushed depression of yesterday that a sudden
+wave of indefinable hope arose in the hearts of many.
+
+Next, followed by four members of his crew, the stranger Mr. Percivale
+walked quietly up the hill, and in at the wicket-gate. He was very pale
+and there were purple marks under his eyes telling of want of sleep; but
+the still confidence of his manner did not by any means quench the spark
+that Mr. Fowler's aspect had kindled. A faint cheer followed him as he
+vanished into the interior of the school-house; but in a moment he
+reappeared, and stood at the door gazing down the hill as if expecting
+some one.
+
+And now was seen a spectacle which literally stopped the breath of the
+momentarily increasing crowd--a sight so unexpected, so unaccountable,
+that one old woman shrilly screamed out, "Lord ha' mercy on us!" and a
+strange thrill passed over the assembly as a cart appeared, and stopped
+before the entrance. In the cart was not only the Edge Valley constable,
+but two from the Stanton constabulary, and in their charge was the widow
+Parker, in hysterics, and Saul, seated with a smile on his face, and his
+beautiful hair just lifted by the wind.
+
+The sensation was tremendous; and it was greatly increased when, as the
+sobbing, frantic widow staggered blindly up the path, Mr. Percivale was
+seen to touch her kindly on the arm, and to whisper a few words which
+had the effect of checking her loud distress and inducing her to compose
+herself somewhat.
+
+But it was not for her he had waited, for still he kept his place at the
+door; and presently the sound of wheels was again heard, and up the hill
+came the Misses Willoughby's wagonette. As it approached, some of the
+spectators noticed that Mr. Percivale uncovered his bright hair, and so
+stood until the carriage stopped, when he went forward, cap in hand, to
+greet the ladies.
+
+Miss Charlotte, Miss Emily, Miss Brabourne, and Mr. Cranmer were in the
+wagonette, and it was at once remarked, that, though sad, they did not
+seem to be in despair. All three ladies were in black, and the Misses
+Willoughby greeted Mr. Percivale with particular politeness and
+distinction.
+
+As for him, he only saw "one face from out the thousands." She was
+there, her hands touched his, she walked beside him up the shingly path.
+Her eyes rested on his with trust and gratitude untold. It was enough.
+For the moment he felt as if he had won his guerdon. They disappeared
+within the school-house, and the crowd outside began loudly to speculate
+on the turn that things were taking. Presently up the road hurried
+Clapp, the landlord of the "Fountain Head," his wife on his arm, both in
+their Sunday best, and both in such a state of excitement as rendered
+them almost crazy. The neighbors gathered round to hear the startling
+news that Mrs. Clapp had been subpoenaed as a witness in the case,
+though what they had to do with it they were at a loss to know, unless
+it were connected with the loyal William's illegal refusal to take Mr.
+and Mrs. Orton in as his guests on the previous day.
+
+"I don't care if they du gi' me a foine," cried he, stoutly. "A can
+affoard to pay it, mates, a deal better 'n I can affoard to tak' vermin
+into ma hoose!"
+
+A murmur of applause greeted this spirited speech, and William was plied
+right and left with questions. But he knew no more than they did, only,
+in some mysterious way, an idea gained ground amongst them that the
+strange owner of the white yacht had wrought a miracle, or something
+very like it, for the preservation of Miss Elaine.
+
+"What shall we du, mates, if a brings her aout safe an' saound?" cried
+William. "Take aout the horses and drag 'im home, say I."
+
+"Get a couple o' hurdles an' chair 'em," suggested another eager spirit;
+and then the constable came to the door, and imperatively called Mr. and
+Mrs. Clapp; when they had vanished, the door was shut, and a breathless
+hush fell upon the crowd.
+
+Oh, the sunny silence in the old house with the terrace! Oh, the slow,
+slow motion of the hands of the clock as they crept round. Miss Ellen's
+couch lay out in the sunshine, her wan hands were clasped, her eyes
+fixed on the white road which descended from the school-house.
+
+The school was on the other side of the valley. The building itself was
+hidden by a thick clump of trees, but below, a long stretch of road was
+clearly visible, leading down past the lower extremity of the Edge
+Willoughby grounds. Here stood the smithy, and, just opposite that, the
+road widened out into a triangular space, used as a village lounge of an
+evening when the weather was fine. Every summer there was a school
+feast, and all the children were marched down this road on their way to
+Mr. Fowler's meadows where the feast was held; and it had been a custom,
+ever since Elaine was a little child, for the whole procession to halt
+when it came opposite the smithy, with waving banners and flying flags,
+and, facing the terrace, to sing a hymn for the edification of the pale
+invalid as she lay on her couch.
+
+To-day, thoughts of Elsa's childhood came thronging to Miss Ellen's
+mind. She saw her once more as she used to stand in her class, in her
+clean white frock and blue ribbons, with her hair waving all about her.
+
+Now, as Miss Ellen saw clearly, the past was utterly and completely the
+past--gone and done away with for ever. In future it would not be in any
+way possible to continue the life which had flowed on so evenly for
+nearly fifteen years. Already the sisters talked of change, of travel.
+Elsa must be taken away from the place where she had suffered so much.
+Change of scene must be resorted to; everything that could be done must
+be done to make her forget the horror of the last few days, and restore
+to her nervous system its usually placid tone.
+
+Little Miss Fanny, who had stayed at home to keep her sister company,
+was trotting nervously in and out of the open door, now snipping a few
+withered geraniums, now mixing the chough's food, and moving the
+cockatoo's cage further into the shade. Jackie himself careered up and
+down in the sunshine like a contented sort of Mephistopheles. He had
+been down to the duck-pond, and chased away all the ducks, which was one
+cause of deep satisfaction to him; over and above which, the cockatoo
+was caged and he was free, so that he was able to march up and down
+under the very nose of the captive bird, deriding him both by word and
+gesture.
+
+"My dear," said Miss Fanny, sitting down with a patient sigh, "how long
+it seems!"
+
+"Long? Yes!... Oh, Fanny, if anything should have gone wrong, if any
+unforeseen piece of evidence----"
+
+"My dear," said Miss Fanny again, in a confident manner, "any unforeseen
+bit of evidence will be a help to our case."
+
+"You really think so?"
+
+"Think so? Why, the matter admits of no doubt at all. It is plain--even
+the poor mother can't deny it; the boy himself admits it. He told Mr.
+Percivale where to look for the cudgel with which the blow was struck."
+
+"I should like to see Mrs. Orton's face. I wonder how she will take it,"
+murmured Miss Ellen.
+
+The clock struck.
+
+"How late it is!" she sighed.
+
+"Hark! What is that?" cried Miss Fanny. "What a strange sound! Don't you
+hear it?"
+
+"I hear something," answered the invalid, growing white, and grasping
+the sides of her couch with straining fingers.
+
+It was a hoarse deep roar, which for a moment they took to be the wind
+or the sea, till, as it was repeated, and again yet louder, they knew it
+for a sound which neither of them had ever heard before--the shouting of
+an excited multitude. There is perhaps nothing else in the world which
+so stirs the pulses, or sends the blood so wildly coursing in the veins.
+Neither sister spoke a word. They held their breath, strained their
+eyes, and waited, while the roar swept nearer, and swelled in volume,
+and at last resolved itself into a tremendous "Hip--hip--hip--hurrah!"
+
+Then, on the white stretch of road down the opposite hill, appeared a
+flying company of boys, madly waving caps in the air. These were but the
+forerunners of the great concourse behind. Edge Combe, albeit so
+apparently small, boasted a population of a thousand souls, and quite
+half of them were present that morning, besides a goodly sprinkling from
+Brent, Philmouth, and Stanton. On they came, moving forward like a huge,
+irregular wave, every hat waving, every throat yelling; and then there
+flashed into sight a dozen or so of stout fellows, who bore on their
+shoulders a young man, lifted high above the heads of the throng, a
+young man whose head was bare, and whose conspicuously fair head caught
+the light of every sunbeam.
+
+"Fanny! Fanny!" gasped Miss Ellen, in the midst of hysterical tears and
+laughter, "it is Mr. Percivale, they are chairing him. Who could have
+believed such a thing, in our quiet village! And, Fanny--see--there is
+the carriage--our carriage! There is Elsa--God bless the child! God
+bless her, poor darling!... They have taken out the horses; they are
+dragging them home in triumph. Look! the carriage is full of flowers;
+the women and girls are throwing them--they all know what she has
+suffered, they all sympathise, they all rejoice with us ... and that
+wonderful young man has done it all. How shall we ever repay him?"
+
+And now the crowd had come to the space opposite the smithy, and here
+their leader, none other than the redoubtable William Clapp, waved his
+arms frantically for a halt. The masses of hurrying people behind
+stopped suddenly; there was an expectant murmur, a pause of wonder as
+to what was now to happen. The whole thing was intensely dramatic; the
+slope of the steep hillside lined with eager faces, the carriage in the
+midst smothered in flowers, and in the foreground the figure of
+Percivale, held up in the arms of the village enthusiasts against a
+background of deep blue sky.
+
+"Three cheers for Miss Willoughby!" yelled William, so loudly that his
+voice carried back to the hindmost limits of the throng, and up to where
+Miss Willoughby was seated. The cheer that arose in answer was
+deafening, and Miss Ellen was so overcome that it was with difficulty
+she could respond by waving her handkerchief.
+
+Scarcely had the sounds died away, when out burst the bells in the
+church tower, the ringers having raced off to set them going as soon as
+ever the result was known. As if with one voice the crowd broke forth
+into "See the conquering hero comes;" and so, with stamping feet and
+shouting lungs, they wound their way up the hill in the sunshine towards
+the drive gates of Edge Willoughby.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXXIV.
+
+     Where people wish to attract, they should always be ignorant ... a
+     woman, especially, if she have the misfortune of knowing anything,
+     should conceal it as well as she can.
+
+     _Northanger Abbey._
+
+
+It was snowing--or rather, sleeting, in the half-hearted, fitful way to
+which Londoners are accustomed. Out of doors, the lamps flared on wet
+glistening pavements, with here and there a mass of rapidly thawing,
+congealed ice, which made walking unpleasant. It was pitch-dark, though
+not yet five o'clock, and the atmosphere was full of a raw cold, more
+penetrating than frost.
+
+In the suburb of Woodstead, the streets were swimming in slush, through
+which rolled the omnibuses, packed full inside, and thatched with
+soaking umbrellas under which cowered unlucky passengers who felt that
+they were taking cold every moment. Crowsley Road, the main
+thoroughfare, contained fine, solid houses, standing well back from the
+street--detached, for the most part, and having their own gardens.
+Mansfield Road was a turning out of Crowsley Road, and here the houses
+were small, semidetached, and unpretentious, though these, too, as is
+the fashion in Woodstead, had a strip of garden in front.
+
+In number seven, the blinds had not been drawn, nor the lamps lit,
+though it was so dark, and the outside prospect so uninviting. The fire
+was the only light in the little dining-room, and on the hearth-rug
+before it sat a girl, her arms round her knees, her eyes fixed on the
+glowing coals.
+
+The uncertain light of the flickering flames showed that the little room
+was furnished with several bits of handsome old oak, with a goodly
+supply of books, and with several oil-paintings, the quality of which
+could hardly be judged in the dark.
+
+On the floor by the fire lay a number of loose sheets of manuscript, a
+pen, and inkstand, so arranged that anyone suddenly entering the room
+must of necessity knock them down. Wynifred Allonby, however--for she it
+was who sat alone--took no heed of her surroundings. She was miles away,
+in a dream-world of her own.
+
+The expression of her face had changed since last summer. The
+independent, courageous, free look was gone. In its stead was a
+wistfulness, a certain restlessness, which, though it saddened, yet
+certainly infused a fresh interest. Apparently a struggle was going on
+in her mind, for her brows were drawn together, and at last, as she
+stared into the embers, she broke into a little laugh and spoke aloud.
+
+"My dear girl, if I could only persuade you what an idiot you are," said
+she. "Will nothing--absolutely nothing make you ashamed of yourself?
+Faugh! I am sick of you--you that were always so high and mighty, you
+that hated and abhorred love-sick maidens, nicely you are, served out,
+now ... a man that chance just flung into your society for a few weeks,
+a man above you in social standing--whose family would think it as great
+a comedown for him to marry you, as you would think it to marry the
+butcher!... I have no patience with you, really. Haven't you read your
+Clough? Don't you remember the _Amours de Voyage_? Yes, that was a
+Claud, too; and I think he must have been something like mine--like this
+one, I mean. 'Juxtaposition,' my good young woman, 'is much.' And what
+was it but juxtaposition? Oh, didn't I know it all the time--know that
+it couldn't last, that he was just masquerading for the time in a
+country romance, that he must needs go back to his world of Piccadilly
+and peeresses.... And yet, I had not the sense to----Oh, it is so hard,
+so very hard! That I should want him so, and have to confess it to
+myself, the hateful truth that I do want him and can't forget--while he
+has no need of me at all!..."
+
+Her face, no longer pale for the moment, dropped upon her hands, and she
+gave a little sound, between a laugh and a sob.
+
+"It is so many weeks ago, now--years, it seems. I thought I should have
+been quite cured by the time winter set in. What in the world drew me so
+to that one man, when I never felt so much as a passing fancy for other
+people--for poor Mr. Merritt, for instance. Why couldn't I marry him? He
+was rich, and I liked him too; so did Osmond and the girls; but somehow
+it wouldn't do. And yet, now.... I can bear it, mostly, only sometimes,
+in blindman's holiday, it comes over me. It is galling, it is
+frightfully humiliating. It ought to make me arise and thrash myself for
+being so unwomanly. I know for a fact that he doesn't want to see me in
+the least; for, if he had, he would have come ... and yet--yet--if he
+were to open that door, and stand there this moment, I should be, for
+the time, absolutely and entirely happy. Oh, what a fall, what a fall
+for me. I was so certain and so safe. And now, is this pain to go on
+always? Am I never to be able to fling my heart into my books as I used?
+Oh, surely, if I am firm enough, I _must_ be able to stop it. I will! I
+am determined I will!"
+
+A footfall, running up the front door steps, made her pause, and
+foolishly hold her breath; then she laughed contemptuously as a
+latch-key was thrust into the lock. There was a stamping and rubbing of
+boots on the mat in the hall, sounds of a mackintosh being removed, an
+umbrella thrust into the stand, and then Jacqueline walked in, her eyes
+like stars, her cheeks glowing with the stinging cold outside.
+
+"Are you there, Wyn?" she asked, peering into the twilight.
+
+"Yes. Mind the ink," said the authoress, heaving a sigh.
+
+"Why in the world don't you draw the curtains and light the lamp?" asked
+Jacqueline, coming forward, and unfastening the dark fur round her
+throat. "Why is there no tea ready? Where's Osmond? Isn't Hilda in yet?
+What have you been about, eh?"
+
+"Oh, I don't know," said Wyn, stretching, and picking herself and her
+writing materials up from the floor. "I was writing hard all the
+morning, and this afternoon was so horrid, I thought I wouldn't go out;
+so I have been moping rather. Osmond's out. Hilda won't be in for
+half-an-hour--it's not five yet."
+
+As she spoke, she drew the curtains, lit the lamp, and rang the bell for
+tea; then, drawing a low chair to the fire, sat down and looked at
+Jacqueline.
+
+That young lady had removed her out-door apparel, and was kneeling on
+the hearthrug, holding her hands to the blaze. The severe weather had
+brought a magnificent glow to her face, and she looked excessively
+pretty and elegant. Wyn watched her with elder-sisterly pride. There was
+something evidently well-bred about Jac; something in the brilliant
+eyes, the tempting smile, the tall slender figure which gave her a style
+of her own. It was not exactly dashing, but it was something peculiar to
+herself, which made her noticed wherever she went, the undeniable beauty
+of the academy schools, and the pride of her devoted family.
+
+Something had pleased her to-day. Wyn easily divined this, from the
+gleam in the big, laughing, hazel eyes, and the pleasant curves of the
+pretty mouth. But the eldest sister was too diplomatic to ask any
+questions. She knew that, when the slim hands were warmed, confidence
+would begin to flow, so she only sat still, and remarked casually.
+
+"Bad light down at the schools to-day, I should think."
+
+"Awful," was the candid reply. "I expect I shall have to paint out
+everything I have put in--such a pity! It looked most weird and
+Rembrandtesque in the rich pea-soupy atmosphere, but alas! to-morrow
+will reveal it in its true colors, dirty and opaque. Here comes tea. How
+nice! Bring it here, Sally, there's a dear."
+
+Sally obeyed. She was a middle-aged, kind, capable woman, who had been
+their nurse in old days, and their factotum ever since they were
+orphans.
+
+"Miss Jac," said she, in righteous wrath, "take off them wet boots this
+minute, you naughty girl. Nice colds you'd all 'ave, if I wasn't to look
+after you. There was Mr. Osmond painting away this morning with 'is
+skylight wide open, and the snow falling on 'is 'ed. Wants to kill
+himself, _I_ think."
+
+"Sally," said Jac, as she sat down on the floor, and rapidly unlaced the
+offending boots, "I've something very particular to say. What is there
+for dinner? Is there anything in the house?"
+
+"There's plenty of cold beef, and, as I know Miss 'Ilda don't fancy cold
+meat, I got some sausages."
+
+"Any pudding?"
+
+"Yes, miss."
+
+"Sausages and mashed potatoes are perhaps vulgar, but they're very
+nice," said Jacqueline, meditatively. "You might make some anchovy
+toast, Sal--and--couldn't we have some spinach?"
+
+"Who is coming?" asked Wyn, with interest.
+
+"Mr. Haldane. He is coming to finish that charcoal sketch of me so I
+told him he had better come to dinner," replied Jac, with airy
+nonchalance.
+
+"Oh, bless your 'eart, I've got plenty for 'im; he don't know what 'e's
+putting into his mouth most of the time," said Sally, picking up the wet
+boots, and retiring.
+
+"Only I do like to have things nice when he comes, because of course he
+is used to having things done in the proper way," remarked Jacqueline,
+with a stifled sigh. She was the only one of the four who felt their
+poverty in this kind of way.
+
+"I never see Mr. Haldane eat anything but chocolate," said Wyn with a
+laugh. "Perhaps he doesn't like our food."
+
+"Sally is a really good cook, that's my one comfort," returned Jac. "And
+now I have two pieces of news for you. The first is that he, Mr.
+Haldane, has got the gold medal."
+
+"No!" cried Wyn, in tremendous excitement. "You don't say so! How
+splendid! How we will all congratulate him! Tell me all about it--how
+many votes ahead was he?"
+
+Jacqueline launched into a mass of details, most eagerly appreciated by
+her listener.
+
+"How we will cheer him at the Distribution to-morrow!" she cried. "I
+always felt sure he would do it."
+
+"I don't think there was ever much doubt about it," was the answer, in a
+voice which Jac in vain strove to render perfectly tranquil. "He is very
+clever, isn't he?"
+
+"Clever and nice too," said Wynifred. "One of the very nicest men we
+know. And, now, what's the other piece of news?"
+
+"Oh--only that the Ortons are back in town. As I passed Sefton Lodge in
+the omnibus, it was all lighted up."
+
+"Oh--I wonder if there is any chance for poor old Osmond to get his
+money now?"
+
+"Don't know, I am sure; I would try, if I were he. Did you have a letter
+from Mr. Fowler this morning?"
+
+"Yes," answered Wyn, pulling it out of her pocket. "Very nice, as usual.
+Elsa is still abroad, with her aunts, but he is back at Lower House. It
+is very strange that Elsa doesn't write--I haven't heard from her for
+six weeks."
+
+"It is making poor old Osmond very anxious--he looks quite haggard,"
+said Jacqueline, resentfully. "I believe she is in love with this man
+the yacht belongs to."
+
+"Oh, don't say such a thing, Jac!" cried Wyn, in a quick voice of pain,
+"it will simply drive Osmond out of his mind if any such thing happens.
+Poor boy! Just see what he has been doing--how superbly he has been
+painting since he had this hope, and how his things are selling! How the
+papers reviewed his 'Valley of Avilion' in the Institute. Why, Mr. Mills
+said there was scarcely a doubt of his being R.I. next year. If Elsa
+fails him, I don't believe he will ever paint another stroke."
+
+Jacqueline stared at the fire.
+
+"You see," she said, "the circumstances under which she met this man
+were so very romantic--so remarkably unusual. And, then, he seems to be
+a wealthy, dazzling sort of person--with a yacht and a German _Schloss_,
+and other fancy fixings of the same kind. I don't see, if you come to
+consider it fairly, how poor Osmond can have a chance against a man who
+can follow her to the world's end."
+
+"Surely she's too young to be mercenary--girls of her age usually prefer
+the poor one!" cried Wyn, protestingly.
+
+"Mercenary? Oh, it's not exactly mercenary; but she is dazzled. Here is
+a mysterious hero, who flashes suddenly upon her with a large staff of
+retainers to do his behests, and a magic yacht which glides in and out
+regardless of wind and tide, and a face like a Viking of the Middle
+Ages, if that picture of him in the _Graphic_ is to be relied upon. He
+is a sort of Ragnar Lodbrog. If she declined his addresses, he would
+most probably set sail alone in his yacht, set fire to it, and be found
+by some Channel steamer in the act of burning himself to death, and
+shouting a battle-cry while the leaping flames encircled him. Now, poor
+Osmond can't compete with this sort of thing; he has no accessories of
+any kind to help him along."
+
+"Jac, you are very ridiculous," said Wyn, unable to help laughing a
+little; but her laugh was not very hearty.
+
+"We shall soon see when she comes to London," said Jacqueline,
+flourishing the poker.
+
+"If she comes to see us! I don't see why she should. Lady Mabel
+Wynch-Frere and her brother have dropped us completely," said Wyn, with
+some bitterness. "The Valley of Avilion was one thing, London is
+another."
+
+"I'm sure we don't want them," said Jacqueline, indifferently. "From
+your account, Lady Mabel was not the kind of person I should take to at
+all."
+
+"She was excessively artificial, but not altogether uninteresting,"
+observed Wyn, in her trenchant way. "They were both very kind to Osmond,
+but that was their humanity, you know--they would have done the same for
+any village yokel. Like Lady Geraldine,
+
+    '"She is too kind to be cruel, and too haughty not to pardon,
+    Such a man as I--'twere something to be level to her hate!"'
+
+Jacqueline began to laugh.
+
+"She is like Aunt Anna," she said.
+
+Aunt Anna was the wife of a dean, and she never dared to invite any of
+her London-weary nieces to stay with her, lest they should unwittingly
+reveal to any of her titled friends the ghastly fact that they had to
+work for their living. Of this secret the said nieces were perfectly
+aware, and derived much amusement therefrom.
+
+"Oh, I daresay she has never thought of us from that day to this," said
+Wyn, carelessly. "There's Hilda knocking. Let her in."
+
+Hilda walked in like a duchess. Nature certainly had not intended the
+Miss Allonbys for daily governesses, and many a time had poor Hilda been
+doomed to hear the condemning words, "I am afraid, Miss Allonby, you are
+of too striking an appearance," from some anxious mother, who felt that
+life would be a burden when weighted with a governess so dignified that
+to suggest that she should take Kitty to the dentist's, or Jack to have
+his boots tried on, would seem a flagrant insult.
+
+"If they only knew how meek and mild I am really!" the poor child would
+remark, dolorously. "If I could but make myself three inches shorter, or
+pad myself out round the waist till I was no shape at all! But it would
+be so dreadfully hot. And I really _can't_ wear unbecoming
+hats--something in me revolts against the idea!"
+
+To-night she had a letter in hand, which she dropped into Wyn's lap.
+
+"I met the postman," she said, explanatorily. "Open it, do--it feels
+stiff, I believe it's an invitation."
+
+Wyn opened it, drew out a square card with gilt edges, and read.
+
+    MISS ALLONBY, MISS H. ALLONBY, MISS J. ALLONBY,
+    MR. ALLONBY.
+
+                  MRS. MILES AT HOME.
+
+                  Tuesday, Jan. 5th.
+
+                    Dancing 8.30,
+                    _R. S. V. P._
+
+           INNISFALLE, THE AVENUE.
+
+"A ball at the Miles'! Oh, Wyn, how splendid!" cried Jacqueline in
+ecstasies.
+
+"Every creature we know will be there," said Hilda.
+
+"Oh, Hilda, how glad I am we had those dresses made," said Jacqueline,
+jumping up and careering round the table in the excess of her spirits.
+
+"How nice of them to ask us all three by name," said Hilda, gloating
+over the card. "They know we never go out more than two at a time unless
+specially invited."
+
+"It's a good long invitation," said Wyn.
+
+"Wyn!" cried Jac, suddenly stopping before her and shaking her fist in
+her face, "Wynifred Allonby, what have you got to wear?"
+
+"Nothing," said Wyn, helplessly. "I don't think I shall go--you two are
+the ones that do us credit. You can go in your pretty new gowns."
+
+"I hope you understand," said Hilda, with decision, "that not one of us
+sets foot in that glorious studio, with a parquet floor, and most
+probably Willoughby's band, unless you are forthcoming _in an entirely
+new rig-out_! Do you hear me? If I have to drag you to Oxford Street
+myself, you must and shall be decent! You have disgraced your family
+long enough in that old black rag, or in something made of tenpenny
+muslin! A new dress you shall have--silk it must be--thick, good silk,
+thick enough to stand by itself! Now, do, there's a darling!"
+
+"I don't think----" began Wyn.
+
+"Oh, yes, I know what you are doing," said Hilda, calmly, "paying for
+the housekeeping out of your own money, so that Osmond may save up; but
+I am going to put a stop to that; and you have heaps of money in the
+savings bank. Don't be miserly, it is so hateful."
+
+Wyn looked somewhat confused by these terrible charges.
+
+"Well," admitted she, hesitatingly, "I don't mind telling you two, that
+I had a cheque this morning from Carter" (her publisher). "It was not a
+very big one--only the royalty on about fifty copies of 'Cicely
+Montfort.' But I could buy a really good gown with it. Do you think I
+might?"
+
+"Might? I say you ought; it's your duty," cried Jac, vehemently.
+"Everyone at Innisfallen will know you--every soul knows you are an
+authoress. You ought to do us credit--you shall. I'll have no nonsense
+about it."
+
+"I don't see why I shouldn't," burst out Wyn, suddenly. "I will be
+welldressed for once in my life. I will enjoy myself as much as ever I
+can. Girls, my mind is made up. I will have a really good gown, as good
+as can be got; and it shall fit me well, and the skirt shall hang
+properly. For this once I'll have my fling; I'll go to Innisfallen and
+eclipse you both."
+
+Here Sally walked in to fetch out the tea-things, and swooped on Hilda's
+boots as she had done on Jacqueline's. After which, retiring to cook
+the sausages, she set open the door at the head of the kitchen stairs,
+that she might hear Osmond's latch-key, and, descending on him like the
+wolf on the fold, rob him of his understandings if ever he came to the
+shelter of his studio.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXXV.
+
+    Juxtaposition, in fine; and what is juxtaposition?
+    Look you, we travel along, in the railway-carriage or steamer,
+    And _pour passer le temps_, till the tedious journey be ended,
+    Lay aside paper or book to talk with the girl that is next one;
+    And, _pour passer le temps_, with the terminus all but in prospect,
+    Talk of eternal ties and marriages made in heaven.
+
+    _Amours de Voyage._
+
+
+"Sally, Sally, what are you doing? For pity's sake come here and lace
+me! I shall never be ready. What a time you are with Wyn!"
+
+Jacqueline, in all the daintiness of white embroidered petticoat,
+satin-smooth shoulders, and deftly-arranged hair with a spray of lilies
+of the valley somewhere among its coils, hung over the balustrade in an
+agony of impatience.
+
+"Wyn, Wyn, what are you keeping Sal for? She has been twenty minutes
+over your bodice."
+
+A voice of agony from below responded.
+
+"Tag has come off my lace."
+
+"Oh!" A pause of consternation; then, encouragingly, "try a hair-pin."
+
+"It's all right now. I have actually found my bodkin. I shan't be five
+minutes."
+
+"Five minutes! My dear child, _Osmond has actually gone for the cab_!"
+cried Jac, in tones tragic enough to suit the most lamentable occasion.
+
+"Jac, come here, and don't make such a fuss," said the calm voice of
+Hilda, as she emerged from her room, ready down to the minutest detail,
+fan, gloves, and wrap over her arm.
+
+With a scream of joy at such unlooked-for relief, Jac darted into her
+room again, and her slender form was soon encased by her sister's deft
+fingers in its neatly-fitting fresh and captivating bodice.
+
+"What a wonder _your_ tags are not both off! They generally are," was
+Hilda's withering comment, as she performed her task.
+
+"Yes, it is a wonder, isn't it?" returned Jacqueline, complacently. "Oh,
+there you are, Sal. I'm ready now, so you can go back to your beloved
+Wyn."
+
+"You can't think 'ow nice Miss Wyn looks to-night," observed Sally, as
+she busied herself in collecting some of the scattered articles of
+wearing apparel which strewed the floor of Jacqueline's small chamber.
+
+"I am so glad. I thought that dress would become her," said Hilda, in a
+pleased voice. "Oh, Jac, stand still, my beloved, one moment: there is
+Osmond back again."
+
+"Very good; I am ready. Sally, where are my gloves? And my bracelet, and
+my fan, and my small brooch, and--oh, dear! Run and tell Wyn she must
+lend me a lace handkerchief and some elastic for my shoes. Do hurry,
+Sally, please, I quite forgot the elastic. Why didn't you remind me,
+Hilda? Oh, did you get it for me? You darling, what a blessing you are!
+There have I got everything? Oh, Sally, do I look as nice as Hilda?"
+
+"You ain't so neat," observed Sally, with grim humor; "but neither of
+you looks bad, though I don't want to make you conceited."
+
+"Are you girls coming?" shouted Osmond.
+
+"Oh, yes; wait just a second, my dear boy. _Is_ my front hair right,
+Hilda? Yours does go so beautifully to-night. You don't look like a
+governess, somehow." She threw a daring, tempting glance and laugh over
+her shoulder at the brilliant reflection in the mirror. "I wonder if I
+do," she said.
+
+At the foot of the stairs stood Wyn, in her new white silk, with a
+little crescent of diamonds, which had belonged to their mother, in her
+hair.
+
+"My dear girls, I am at peace," she remarked, gravely. "I stand at last
+inside a gown which _hangs_ to perfection!"
+
+"Oh, isn't it nice?" said Jac, with a deep sigh of longing. "Really,
+Wyn, you do look well; you pay for dressing. Why don't you give more
+attention to your clothes?"
+
+"There's Osmond fidgetting downstairs, run!" cried Hilda, and the three
+flew off, pursued by Sally's warning cries.
+
+"Miss Jac, Miss Jac, don't let that fresh skirt sweep the stair carpets!
+Miss 'Ilda, cover your 'ead over, you've got a cold, you know you 'ave!
+Miss Wyn, see that Mr. Osmond crosses his comforter over his chest,
+there's a dear!"
+
+"Innisfallen. The Avenue," said Osmond to the cabman; and the four were
+really off at last.
+
+"For how many dances are you engaged, Jac?" asked the brother,
+teazingly.
+
+"Little boys," was the frigid rejoinder, "should ask no questions, and
+then they would hear no stories;" after which, silence reigned in the
+fourwheeler.
+
+Every Londoner knows, or has heard of, the celebrated house of Mr.
+Miles, R.A. It is one of the show-houses of London, and views of its
+interior appear from time to time in the art magazines, with an
+accompanying article full of praise for and wonder at the wealth and
+taste which devised such an abode. With our nineteenth-century habit of
+writing biographies in the life-time of their subject, of forming
+societies to interpret the work of living poets, and publishing
+pamphlets to explain the method of living painters, why not also extol
+the upholstery of living academicians? It is surely more satisfactory
+that people should admire your taste and wonder at your income in your
+lifetime than after you have gone the way of all flesh. Nowadays one is
+nothing if not in print. What! Furnish at untold cost; have your carpets
+imported from the East, and your wall papers specially designed, merely
+that these facts should go about as a tradition, a varying statement
+bandied from mouth to mouth and credited at will?
+
+The age is sceptical; it will not believe what it hears, it will not
+even believe documents of more than a certain age--the Gospels, for
+instance. But it will believe anything which it sees printed in a
+society journal, or a fashionable magazine. If your name be blazoned
+there, it is equivalent to having it graven with an iron pen, and lead
+in rock forever; on which account Mr. Miles did not object in the least
+to the appearance of delicately-executed engravings representing "Hall,
+and portion of staircase at Innisfallen, residence of H. Miles, Esq.,
+R.A." "Interior of studio, looking west." "Drawing-room, and
+music-gallery, showing the great organ, &c., &c." He was wise in his
+generation, and thoroughly enjoyed the caressing and honors which
+accrued to him from this form of advertisement. Moreover, he was a
+kindly man, and much given to hospitality. Nothing pleased him better
+than to throw open his magnificent rooms to large assemblies of very
+various people on an occasion like the present.
+
+An interesting theme for observation was presented by the extraordinary
+variety of toilettes worn by the guests of both sexes.
+
+First there was the artistic section of the community, drawn from all
+classes of society. By an odd paradox, these were they whose costumes
+were the most aggressively inartistic of any. Dirt and slovenliness are
+neither of them picturesque, yet it would seem that this singular clique
+held that to cultivate both was the first duty of man. They seemed to be
+one and all anxious to impress upon the observer the fact that they had
+taken no trouble at all to prepare for this party. A few had washed
+their faces. None had gone to the length of arranging their hair.
+Another feature which all possessed in common was their inability to
+dance, though some of them tried. Perhaps their large boots and
+ill-fitting garments incapacitated them for the display of grace in
+motion. They leaped, shuffled and floundered, but they did not waltz.
+These were, of course, only the younger section. Nearly everyone of them
+had distinguished him or herself in their own particular line; which
+fact seems to argue that to give especial attention to one sort of
+observation is to destroy the faculty for observing anything else: a
+saddening theory, and one which makes one tremble for the value of
+Professor Huxley's judgment on all matters outside his own province. Be
+that as it may, the fact remains that this concourse of young people,
+who could all admire beauty, grace, and refinement in the canvasses of
+the old masters, yet were themselves so many living violations of every
+law of beauty, and kept their refinement strictly for internal use.
+
+The moneyed clique was also much _en evidence_. These were blazing with
+diamonds as to the women, commonplace and vacant as to the men. The
+latter seemed, in fact, to still further illustrate the theory of the
+evil of giving too close an attention to one thing. They were only
+faintly interested in what was going forward; they had no conversation
+unless they met a kindred spirit, who was willing to discuss the state
+of affairs east of Temple Bar. Their wives were for the most part
+handsome, and were all over-dressed, but this extreme was not so painful
+as that of the artists, because these clothes were as a rule well-made
+and composed of beautiful materials.
+
+Then there was a large sprinkling of professional people--barristers,
+journalists, critics, _savants_, lady-doctors, strong-minded females,
+singers, reciters, actors. Also there were the great gems of the art
+world: academicians, who, having made their name, had promptly turned
+Philistine, with their wives and families, dressed like the rest of the
+world, built big houses, went into society, and painted pot-boilers;
+and, lastly, there was a fair sprinkling of the aristocracy: well-born
+people, not so handsome as the millionaires' wives, but with that subtle
+air of breeding which diamonds cannot give. All these were simply
+dressed, and unobtrusive in manner; and a stranger watching the Allonbys
+enter the room would have fearlessly classed them with these latter.
+
+They all four looked what the Germans call "born." A certain way of
+carrying their heads distinguished them, and as they followed the
+announcement of their names, and shook hands with their hostess, more
+than one eager voice assailed the young men of the house with clamors
+for an introduction.
+
+Mr. and Mrs. Miles were fond of the four orphans. They had known them
+for years, and watched with kindly interest the development of their
+fortunes. Wynifred's success had made her quite a small celebrity in the
+neighborhood, and she owed many introductions to the benevolent zeal of
+the academician's plain, homely wife.
+
+"My dear," said Mrs. Miles, in a whisper, "I don't know when I've seen
+you look so nice."
+
+This was a charming beginning. It raised Wynifred's spirits, which were
+already high. She had come that evening determined to enjoy herself. She
+intended to cast every remembrance of last summer to the winds. Claud
+Cranmer was to be forgotten--the one weakness in her life. She would
+wrench back her liberty by main force, and be free once more--free as on
+the hot June day when she had journeyed down to Devonshire, and found
+the slight trim figure waiting for her on the platform.
+
+She knew plenty of people here to-night--people who were only too ready
+and anxious for her notice. When Wynifred had been working at the
+Woodstead Art School, before her novels began to pay, it had been said
+of her that she might have had the whole studio at her feet had she so
+chosen. She was an influence--a power. She had not been two minutes in
+the room before her ball-programme began to fill rapidly--too rapidly.
+She was too experienced a dancer not to make a point of reserving
+several dances "for contingencies."
+
+"Don't introduce me to anyone else--please," she said to Arthur Miles,
+who was standing by her, inscribing his name on her card. "I shall have
+too many strangers on my hands, and I get so tired of strangers."
+
+"There's North, the dramatic author, imploring me to introduce him--he
+wants to dramatise 'Cicely Montfort.' How that book has taken! I hope
+you are reaping substantial benefits, Miss Allonby?"
+
+"Yes, pretty well, as times go, thank you," she answered, laughing a
+little as she remembered that her pretty gown had been earned by the
+industrious and popular "Cicely."
+
+"I don't think it's much use my talking to him," she went on. "I have as
+good as promised to help Mr. Hollis dramatize it for the Corinthian."
+
+"Then you and Mr. Hollis had better make haste, or North will have the
+start of you. He's the fastest writer I know, and I believe he has it
+already arranged in a prologue and three acts."
+
+"Yes, there must be a prologue--that is the drawback," said Wyn, slowly.
+"But," with a sudden bright look, "you are making me talk 'shop,' Mr.
+Miles!"
+
+"Am I? Very sorry. Here comes Dick Arden to take you off. I must go and
+find out if the beauty is here--she is fashionably late."
+
+"The beauty? Has Mr. Miles a new beauty on view to-night?"
+
+"I should just think he has, and no mistake about it this time. Have you
+not heard about her? She is a great heiress, and all London is to go mad
+over her. The _pater_ is doing her picture in oils for the R.A. He says
+she is simply the most beautiful creature he has ever seen. She is
+coming to-night, under the escort of Lady Somebody-or-other. Hallo!
+There are the Ortons!"
+
+"Where?" Wynifred turned her head swiftly. She knew them slightly, on
+account of the business relations between Osmond and Frederick. She
+watched with some interest as her brother, who was standing near the
+door, shook hands and entered into conversation with them. Ottilie was
+looking excessively handsome, in a black velvet dress, cut very low in
+the bodice, a profusion of jewels decorating her neck, arms, and head.
+She had grown somewhat thinner in the months she had lately spent
+abroad, but her color was as rich and vivid as ever. Wyn saw Osmond ask
+her to dance, and lead her away, and then Dick Arden, the pleasant
+looking young artist at her elbow, broke in with,
+
+"When your meditation is quite finished, Miss Allonby, I am longing for
+a turn."
+
+With a laughing apology she laid her hand on his arm, and followed him
+into the dancing-room.
+
+The drawing-room at Innisfallen adjoined the studio, separated by
+enormous sliding-doors, and voluminous curtains of amethyst velvet.
+To-night the doors were folded back, the curtains looped in masses of
+dusky light and shade, so that the guests standing in the drawing-room
+could see the couples as they circled round.
+
+Wyn began to enjoy herself. The floor was perfect, the band, as Hilda
+had prophesied, Willoughby's. She liked dancing, and she liked Dick
+Arden. Everyone knows that Woodstead is the suburb of London most famed
+for its dancing and its pretty girls. In Woodstead the dismal cry of "No
+dancing men!" is a thing unknown. On this particular night, the dancers
+were drawn from hundreds of neighborhoods, so that the waltzing was not
+so faultless as it was wont to be at the Town Hall; but Wyn knew whom to
+choose and whom to avoid, and her present partner left little to be
+desired.
+
+Who could be sentimentally afflicted, she cried in her heart, with a
+good floor, a good band, and a good partner? The vivid memory of the
+weeks at Edge Combe seemed paler than it had ever been before. After
+all, it had only been an episode, and it was in the past now. Every day
+it receded further back; it was dying out, fading, disappearing.
+
+The dancers flashed past. Osmond and Ottilie Orton, tall and commanding;
+Jacqueline and young Haldane, both talking as fast as they could, and
+laughing into each other's eyes; Hilda, quiet and queenly, with an
+adoring partner. It seemed a bright, hopeful world, a world full of
+people interested in other people. Was there no one in it who had a
+tender thought for her--for Wynifred? She did not want admiration, or
+fame, or notice, or favorable criticism. She was a woman, and she wanted
+love.
+
+But no! This would not do. The stream of her reflections would carry her
+the wrong way. Forward must she look--never back, on past weakness and
+shortcoming. The music ceased with a long-drawn chord of strings. The
+waltz was over.
+
+Wyn and her partner were at the lower end of the vast studio. As they
+turned to walk up the floor towards the archway, the girl caught sight
+of a head--a fair head thrown into relief against the dark background of
+the amethyst curtain. For a moment she felt sick, faint, and cold. Then
+she rallied, in a little burst of inward rage. What! Upset by a chance
+likeness?
+
+They moved on. A crowd of intervening people shut out that suggestive
+head from view. Wyn unfurled her crimson fan, and smiled at Dick Arden.
+
+"That _was_ delightful," he was saying, warmly. "Won't you give me
+another? Do say you will. An extra--anything--only do give me one more."
+
+The next instant she was face to face with Claud Cranmer.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXXVI.
+
+    "That fawn-skin-dappled hair of hers,
+            And the blue eye
+            Dear and dewy,
+    And that infantine fresh air of hers."
+
+    _A Pretty Woman._
+
+
+It was no fancy. There he stood, trim and fresh as ever, a small bunch
+of Neapolitan violets in his button-hole, his hands behind him, and
+wearing his usual expression of alert interest in what was passing
+around him. He was looking remarkably well, and a good deal tanned, so
+that the clearness of his blue-grey eyes showed more strongly than
+usual. His face was turned fully towards Wynifred, but he was not
+looking at her, but beyond, away down the room.
+
+That trifling fact saved her self-respect. Had his eyes been upon her,
+he must have seen something--some sudden flash of uncontrollable
+feeling, which would have told him what she would almost have died to
+prevent his knowing. But in the few moments given to her she was able
+partially to rally, to tear her eyes from his face, to turn to her
+partner, even to smile at what he was saying, and to make a reply which,
+if neither long nor brilliant, was at least not wide of the mark. Those
+two minutes seemed really two hours to her. First the sudden shock, then
+the recovery, so slow as it had seemed, the turning of her head an inch
+to the left, the set smile, the brief answer, and then they were in the
+doorway ... were, passing him by.... No human power could have made her
+lift her eyes to his as she passed; yet she saw him without
+looking--knew how close he was, felt her gown brush his foot, and heard
+his voice an instant later ejaculate,
+
+"Miss Allonby!"
+
+It had come. As she paused, turned her head, raised her gaze to his, she
+was more thankful than ever that she had even so brief a preparation;
+for the expression of Mr. Cranmer's face could not exactly be considered
+flattering. It was made up of several ingredients, but embarrassment was
+predominant. There was a slight added color in his cheeks--a hesitation
+in his manner. He was off guard, and could not immediately collect
+himself.
+
+A secret fury of indignation at her own folly helped to make Wynifred's
+smile most coldly sweet. As she held out her hand she slightly arched
+her eyebrows as though he were the last person she had expected to meet;
+as indeed he had been, not three minutes ago. He greeted her with some
+confusion, his eyes roamed over her dress, and never in all her life had
+she been so devoutly thankful that she was in this respect for once past
+criticism.
+
+Nothing gives a greater confidence than the consciousness of looking
+one's best. As the girl stood before Claud, she felt that to-night the
+advantage was hers. He had not thought it worth while to call in
+Mansfield Road; he should see that the Allonby family was by no means
+dependent on his chance favors.
+
+The usual tepid and stereotyped formalities were gone through.
+
+"How do you do, Miss Allonby? It is an unexpected pleasure to meet you
+here."
+
+"Really! I think it is I who ought to be surprised. I am always at Mrs.
+Miles' parties, and I never met you before."
+
+"No--it is my first visit. I hope you are all well? Is either of your
+sisters here?"
+
+"Yes, both; and my brother too. Are you alone?"
+
+"Oh, dear, no: Mab is here somewhere, and Miss Brabourne----"
+
+Here Dick Arden became restive.
+
+"Miss Wynifred!" he murmured, reproachfully, making an onward step.
+
+Wyn inclined her head with another small and civil smile, and made as
+though she would have passed on.
+
+"Miss Allonby--stay! Won't you give me a waltz?" cried Claud, hastily.
+
+"I have none till quite the end of the programme, and I am afraid you
+will have gone home by then," replied Wyn, airily, over her shoulder.
+
+Claud went forward, determinedly.
+
+"If you will give me one, I will stay for it," he said, with some
+energy.
+
+"Well, you shall have number nineteen; but mind you don't trouble to
+wait if it is not quite convenient."
+
+"Somebody else will be only too happy to step into your shoes, if you
+are not forthcoming," laughed Dick Arden. "Miss Wynifred--I hope that is
+not my promised dance you are giving away!"
+
+They were gone--the slim, white-robed girl and her partner had vanished
+among the parti-colored couples who paraded the room. Claud's' glance
+followed them with a fatal fascination. He saw them pass through a
+sidedoor into a shadowy conservatory, and then, with a start, roused
+himself to the consideration of what had passed. He had met Wynifred
+Allonby again. How very nice she looked in white. How nice she looked
+altogether. Was there not something different about her since the
+summer--an altered look in her face? Her eyes! He never noticed, at Edge
+Combe, what pretty eyes she had; but now----. He moved restlessly down
+towards the band. Why did they not strike up? This was only number four
+on the programme, and he had to exist, somehow, till the bitter end. He
+might as well dance, it would perhaps pass the time rather more quickly.
+
+Actuated by this idea, he started in pursuit of Elsa.
+
+Meanwhile, scarcely had Wynifred gained the shelter of the ante-room,
+when she turned to her partner abruptly.
+
+"We must hunt up Osmond before we do anything else," she cried,
+peremptorily. "I want to speak to him at once."
+
+Mr. Arden knew her too well to attempt to gainsay her. They hurried
+through the rooms till they reached the tearoom, where Mrs. Frederick
+Orton was seated in state while Osmond waited upon her.
+
+"Osmond, my dear boy," said Wyn, eagerly, going up to him, "I must just
+say five words to you. Come here--bend down your head--listen! Elsa
+Brabourne is here to-night. Yes," as he started violently, "she is, I
+know, for I have just seen Mr. Cranmer, and he told me. I thought I
+would warn you. Oh, my dear, don't be rash, I implore you! Think of her
+changed position, since we last saw her--think what a great heiress she
+is! She has the world at her feet. Don't look like that, dear, I don't
+want to hurt you--only to warn you. Be on your guard! Don't let her
+trample on you!"
+
+"Trample on me! She! You don't know her--you could never appreciate--you
+always misjudged her!" said the young man, resentfully, under his
+breath. "A more innocent, simple-minded creature I never saw than she!
+They cannot have spoilt her--yet!"
+
+He was quivering with eagerness.
+
+"Thanks for coming to tell me," he said, hurriedly. "I will go and find
+her. Never fear for me. I'm not a fool."
+
+"But, oh, my poor boy, I am not so sure of that," sighed the sister,
+secretly, as she left the room again with her partner.
+
+As she passed back through the drawing-room where the hostess was
+receiving her guests, her attention was attracted by the figure of a
+girl who was standing with her back to them, talking to Arthur Miles.
+
+Dick Arden turned suddenly to her.
+
+"Who is that?" he asked breathlessly.
+
+Only the back, straight and slender, was visible, its white silk bodice
+leaving bare a neck that would not have degraded the Venus de Medici. A
+small head, crowned with masses of rippled golden hair, was bent
+slightly to one side, showing a spray of lillies and a flash of
+diamonds. An enormous fan of snowy ostrich feathers formed a background
+to this faultless head.
+
+Dick and Wyn were both artists. Simultaneously they moved forward, to
+catch a full view of the face belonging to a back which promised so
+rarely.
+
+As they came towards her, the beauty turned in their direction, and a
+sigh of admiring wonder heaved Mr. Arden's breast as he gazed. It was
+Elsa.
+
+Wyn knew her in the same instant that she recognized her astonishing
+beauty.
+
+This was something far more wonderful than mere good looks. Regular
+features, a clear white skin, large eyes, good teeth, abundant hair--no
+doubt these are important factors in the structure of a woman, but Elsa
+possessed something far more subtle, more dangerous then any of these.
+
+The trouble, the horror through which she had passed had left something
+behind--an indefinable but real influence--a dash of sadness--a shadow,
+a suggestiveness, which gave to mouth and eyes a pathos calculated to
+drive the soberest of men out of his senses. Had she been brought up
+like other girls, among companions of her own age--gone to juvenile
+parties, stayed at fashionable watering places, attended a select
+boarding-school, she would, of course, have grown up handsome; nature
+had amply provided for that, but her beauty would have been robbed of
+what was its chief charm. As it was, she was not only lovely, but
+unique; and her superb physical health added a crowning touch to her
+dissimilarity from the pretty, delicate, more or less jaded and
+over-educated London girls who surrounded her.
+
+As her eyes met Wyn's, she started, and came forward, with that
+bewitching shyness which was one of her great points.
+
+"Oh, Wyn! Lady Mabel, here is Miss Allonby!"
+
+Lady Mabel Wynch-Frere turned quickly.
+
+"Why--so it is! I am charmed to meet you," she cried, with much
+_empressement_. "Of course, if I had only thought, Woodstead is your
+part of the world, is it not? What a charming part it seems! This house
+is lovely. I am so glad we came. Mr. Miles is painting Elsa's picture,
+you know. I think it will be a great success. And how is your work
+getting on?"
+
+"Pretty well, thank you."
+
+"I thought it must be! I have been, like everyone else, reading 'Cicely
+Montfort.' Is it true that it is to be dramatised?"
+
+"I believe so."
+
+"How proud you must be! it is so grand to feel that one has really done
+some good work, and swelled the list of useful women. You must come and
+see us as soon as you possibly can. Elsa is making a long stay with me.
+She is only just come back to England, you know. She has been cruising
+in the Mediterranean with two of her aunts, in Mr. Percivale's yacht;
+and my brother has been with them for about six weeks--ever since he
+returned from Scotland; he is here to-night, have you seen him?"
+
+"Yes, just to speak to. He said you and Miss Brabourne were here,"
+returned Wyn feeling greatly mollified to hear that, by all accounts,
+Claud had not been in London since they parted in the summer.
+
+"It has done the child so much good," said Lady Mabel, dropping her
+voice. "She is fast recovering, but she was desperately ill after--after
+that sad affair, you know. I daresay you wonder to see her at a ball so
+soon; but they dare not let her mope. The doctors said she must at all
+risks be kept happy and amused. The yachting was the saving of her, I do
+believe. It was Mr. Percivale's suggestion."
+
+"Is he here to-night?" Wyn could not resist asking.
+
+"Yes, somewhere. I do not see him just now, Mrs. Miles carried him off.
+Ah! here he comes, with that girl in the primrose gown; is it not one of
+your sisters?"
+
+"Yes,--Hilda," answered Wyn, with much interest. "Is that Mr. Percivale?
+What a fine head!"
+
+"Is it not?" said Lady Mabel, with enthusiasm. "You are an artist, you
+can appreciate it. Some people say he has red hair, and that his style
+is so _outre_; for my part, I do like a man who dares to be unlike other
+men! He has a distinct style of his own, and he knows it. He declines to
+clip and trim himself down to the level of everybody else! but there is
+nothing obtrusive about him."
+
+This was true. As Percivale advanced, Wyn was constrained to admit that
+a more distinguished gentleman she had never beheld. His face fascinated
+her. It expressed so clearly the simple nobility of his soul. He came up
+to where Lady Mabel was standing, Hilda Allonby on his arm, and then a
+number of introductions took place.
+
+Suddenly, with impetuous footstep, a gentleman approached the group.
+Elsa turned her face, and one of her slow, beautiful smiles dawned over
+eyes and mouth as, with perfect self-possession, she stretched out her
+hand in greeting.
+
+It was Osmond; he was white as death, and so excited as to be unable to
+speak connectedly. He took the little white-gloved hand in his, and
+seemed at once to become oblivious of his surroundings. Wyn was obliged
+to remind him of his manners.
+
+"Osmond, here is Lady Mabel."
+
+Mr. Percivale, at the sound of the name, turned round suddenly, and for
+several seconds the two men remained looking one another in the face.
+
+They presented the somewhat unusual spectacle of a pair of rivals, both
+of whom were quite determined to fight fair. But Percivale's
+tranquillity was in strong contrast to Osmond's flushed and manifest
+disorder. To Wyn there was something cruel about it--the rich
+yacht-owner, the poor, struggling artist. It could never be an even
+contest.
+
+"We ought to be acquainted, Mr. Allonby," said Percivale, after a
+moment.
+
+"Indeed? I have not the honor----" began Osmond, struggling for an
+indifferent manner.
+
+"My name is Percivale," said the owner of the _Swan_. "Perhaps you may
+have heard it."
+
+Osmond bowed. In the presence of Elsa, it was not possible to allude to
+the events which had brought the yacht to Edge Combe.
+
+"I am glad to meet you, Mr. Percivale," he managed to say, with some
+stiffness. "Miss Brabourne, may I hope for the honor of a dance?"
+
+Again the girl smiled at him, accompanying the smile with a look half
+mischievous, half pleading, and wholly inviting, as if deprecating the
+formality of his address.
+
+"Yes, of course you may," she said, shyly. "Will you have this one?"
+
+"Will I! May I?"
+
+The rapturous monosyllables were all that he could command. Next instant
+he felt the light touch of that white glove on his coat-sleeve--he was
+walking away with her, out of reach of all observing eyes; he was
+floating in a Paradise of sudden, wild happiness. Of what was to come he
+recked nothing. The present was enough for him.
+
+"Elsa!" he gasped, as soon as he could speak, "I thought you had
+forgotten me!"
+
+"But I have not, you see."
+
+"But you have not! I might have known it. Where shall we go--what shall
+we do? Do not let us dance, let us sit down somewhere; I have a thousand
+things that I must say."
+
+But this suggestion was most displeasing to Miss Brabourne.
+
+"Oh, but, please, you must dance," said she, in disappointed tones. "I
+want to practise, as I shall have to dance so much, and it is such a
+good opportunity for you to teach me!"
+
+"To teach you! I expect I shall be the learner," cried Osmond; but in
+this he was mistaken.
+
+His divinity could not waltz at all. He instructed her for some time, a
+conviction darkly growing in his mind that she never would be able to
+master this subtle art. But what of that? Could he regret it, when she
+calmly said,
+
+"I should like to dance with you a great many times, please, if you
+don't mind. I feel as if I needed a great deal of teaching."
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXXVII.
+
+    "Oh, sir, she smiled, no doubt,
+    Whene'er I passed her; but who passed without
+    Much the same smile?"
+
+    _My Last Duchess._
+
+
+"Our dance, I believe. Miss Allonby."
+
+Wynifred, quietly seated by her partner, raised her eyes deliberately.
+
+"You, Mr. Cranmer? I thought you had gone some time ago."
+
+"Indeed? Am I in the habit of breaking my word?" asked Claud, stiffly.
+
+"Oh," said the girl, as she rose and took his arm, "to cut a dance is
+not considered breaking one's word in _le monde ou l'on s'ennuie_,
+especially when to keep it would be to make the horses stand in the
+cold!"
+
+"The horses are not standing now, so be easy on that score. I have not
+carried my heroism to that extent. Now, what made you say you thought I
+had gone?"
+
+"Lady Mabel has been gone some time."
+
+"Does that entail my going too? Had she not a gentleman in attendance?
+Are there no hansom cabs in London? Do you think I am tied to Mab's
+apron-strings?"
+
+"I have usually met you together."
+
+Claud made no answer. He was slightly piqued.
+
+How could he know that for these few minutes the girl on his arm had
+hungered and longed all the evening, that all other interests had seemed
+to be merged in the one question--Would he stay, or would he not? How
+could he know that for the moment she was tasting a happiness as brief
+and delusive, though more controlled, than poor Osmond's?
+
+Like most men, he only saw what she chose to show him--a disengaged
+manner, a sharp tongue, and her customary indifference.
+
+It exasperated him. What! When the sight of her had moved him so
+unusually, was she to treat him as any one of the crowd! What a fool he
+was, to waste a thought upon her! He was in a frame of mind approaching
+the vindictive. He would have liked to make her suffer; as she, poor
+child, was feeling every moment as if the strain were becoming too
+severe--as though her store of self-command were ebbing, and she must
+betray herself.
+
+They began to dance.
+
+It has been truly said that our very waltzes are melancholy, now-a-days.
+This was a conspicuously sad one. It seemed to steal into Wynifred's
+very soul. It was as though the burden of useless longing must weigh
+down her light feet and clog her easy motion. She could not speak, and
+for some minutes they waltzed in silence. At last--
+
+"I have not forgiven you for thinking I should fail to keep my
+appointment," said he.
+
+"You seem very much exercised on the subject," she laughed back. "I am
+sorry it entailed so much effort and self-denial."
+
+"You wilfully misinterpret, as Darcy said to Elizabeth Bennett."
+
+"You are not much like Darcy."
+
+"Now why?" said Claud, nettled for some unaccountable reason, "why am I
+not like Darcy? Your reasons, if you please."
+
+"Don't ask me to make personal remarks."
+
+"I insist upon it! I will not have my character darkly aspersed."
+
+"Well, you have brought it upon yourself. The difference is that,
+whereas Mr. Darcy seemed excessively haughty and unapproachable on first
+acquaintance, yet was, in his real self, most humble, unassuming, and
+ready to acknowledge himself in error; Mr. Cranmer, on the contrary,
+seems easy, debonair, and ready to fraternise with everyone; but on
+closer knowledge he is found to be exceedingly proud, exclusive,
+and--and--all that a peer's son should be. There! what do you not owe me
+for that delicate piece of flattery?"
+
+"What do I owe you? A deep and dire revenge, which I will take forthwith
+by drawing, not a contrast, but a likeness between you and Elizabeth
+Bennett. She was deeply attracted by the shallow, insincere, and
+fraudulent Wickham. She began by grossly underrating poor Darcy, and
+imputing to him the vilest of motives; she ended by overrating him as
+unjustly. In other words, her estimate of character was invariably
+incorrect. In this respect there is a striking resemblance between you."
+
+"I can almost forgive you your unexampled rudeness, on account of your
+knowing your 'Pride and Prejudice' so well," cried Wyn, in delight.
+"But, alas! what is a poor novelist to say in answer to such a crushing
+charge! I must retire from business at once, if I am no judge of
+character."
+
+"Oh, you are young, there is hope for you yet if you will but take
+advice."
+
+"Willingly! But it must be from one competent to advise!"
+
+"And who is to settle that?"
+
+"I, myself, of course!"
+
+"You have great confidence," said Claud, "in that judgment which, as I
+have just told you, is incurably faulty."
+
+"Pause a moment! One step further, and we shall have rushed headlong
+into a discussion on the right of private judgment, and, once begun, who
+knows where it would end?"
+
+"We have a way of trending on problematical subjects, have we not?" said
+Claud, with a gay laugh.
+
+He wondered at himself--his good humor was quite restored. Just a few
+minutes' unimportant chat with Wynifred, and he was charmed into his
+very best mood. She annoyed and fascinated at the same moment, she acted
+like a tonic, always stimulating, never cloying. What she might say next
+was never certain, and the uncertainty kept him always on the _qui
+vive_. He could imagine no pleasure more subtle.
+
+He began to understand his danger more completely than heretofore.
+To-night he realised that a continued acquaintance with Miss Allonby
+could have but one end. Was there yet time to save himself? Would he do
+so if he could?
+
+The glamor which her presence shed over his spirit showed itself by
+outward and visible signs, in the genial light of the grey eyes, the
+smiling curve of the mouth, in the whole expression of the pleasant
+face. In her society he was at his best, and he felt it. Everything was
+more enjoyable, life more vivid when she was there, she was the mental
+stimulus he needed.
+
+Yielding to this happy mood, which each shared alike, they sank into
+seats when the music ceased, scarcely noting that the dance was over.
+Suddenly, in the midst of his light talk, Claud broke off short,
+ejaculating in surprise,
+
+"By George, there's the tragedy queen!"
+
+Wyn, looking up, saw Mrs. Orton in the centre of the polished floor,
+gracefully bidding "good night" to her hostess.
+
+"I wonder--oh, I _wonder_ if she came across Percivale," said Claud,
+eyeing her intently. "I would give my best hat to see them meet! How she
+does hate him! I never saw a woman in a rage in my life really, until I
+saw Mrs. Frederick Orton at the inquest."
+
+"Ah, you were there! I wish," said Wyn, "that you would tell me all
+about it. I have heard so few details. All that I have heard was from
+Mr. Fowler. He is very kind, but not a clever writer of letters. I think
+he is unaccustomed to it."
+
+"Very probably. So he writes to you! I think," he looked keenly at her,
+"I never saw a more thoroughly first-rate fellow."
+
+"I go every length with you, as Jac would say. He is good. I think I
+rejoiced over Elsa's innocence as much for his sake as for anything."
+
+"Yes. He was splendid at the inquest. He and Percivale are a pair for
+never losing their tempers under any provocation. That woman
+contradicted him, insulted him, abused him, but he never let her get the
+better of him for a moment. What a curious thing human nature is! She
+had so nursed some sort of grudge against Miss Brabourne that it has
+grown into a blazing hatred, which is the ruling passion of her life. I
+honestly believe that to have proved the girl guilty of murder would
+have afforded her the keenest satisfaction. She was furious at being
+baulked of her revenge."
+
+"Oh! Such a thing is inhuman--incredible! If I put such a character into
+one of my books, people would call it unpardonably overdrawn," said Wyn,
+in horror.
+
+"I daresay; but it is true. Remember she was in a desperate frame of
+mind altogether. They were literally without money, and they came down
+there to find that the boy, from whom came their sole chance of funds,
+was dead. It seemed only fair that somebody should be made to suffer for
+Mrs. Orton's exceeding discomfort. That was all. But I believe she would
+do Percivale a bad turn, if she could."
+
+"Who _is_ Mr. Percivale?" asked Wyn.
+
+"That's just what nobody quite knows," said Claud, with a puzzled laugh.
+"All I know about him is that he is a gentleman in the word's truest
+sense. He is very reserved; never speaks of himself, and one can't
+exactly ask a man straight out who his father was. He is a good deal
+talked about in society, as you may guess, and the society journals
+manufacture a fresh lie about him, on an average, once a month. He
+evidently dislikes publicity, for he never races that beautiful yacht of
+his, or gives large donations to public institutions, or opens bazaars,
+or lays foundation-stones, or in any other way attracts attention to
+himself. That made it all the more generous of him to espouse Miss
+Brabourne's cause so frankly. He knew what it would bring upon him. You
+can't think how much he had to suffer from the idiots sent down to
+interview him, the letters imploring him for his photograph, the
+journalists trying to bribe his crew to tell what their captain
+withheld. He could not prevent surreptitious newspaper artists from
+making sketches of the _Swan_ as she lay at anchor; but his full anger
+blazed up when the _Pen and Pencil_ produced a page of heads--you saw
+it, of course--including portraits of him, Fowler, myself, the idiot
+Saul, poor Godfrey, and Miss Brabourne. Where they got them from is to
+this day a mystery. We suppose most of them must have been done at the
+inquest. Ah! that was an exciting day. I can feel the enthusiasm of it
+now. It was splendid to see that fine fellow held up in the arms of the
+fisher-lads, with the sunshine blazing on him, and the bells clashing
+out from the tower!--the sort of thing one sees only once in a lifetime.
+It sounded like a bit of an old romance. I often tell Percivale he is an
+anachronism."
+
+"He has a wonderful face; but it does strike one as strange that he
+should be so mysterious," said Wynifred. "Has he no family--no
+relations--no home?"
+
+"He has no near relations living--he told me that himself," answered
+Claud. "He also told me that his mother died when he was born, and his
+father two months before. He was brought up in a castle in Bavaria by an
+English clergyman who had known his parents. This man was a recluse, and
+a great scholar. He died some years ago. Percivale has had as little of
+ladies' society as if he had been a monk. Now you know exactly as much
+as I do of his antecedents, Miss Allonby."
+
+"I am afraid I seem very inquisitive; but to a writer of fiction there
+is a certain attraction about such an unusual history."
+
+"And such an unusual personality. He is unlike anyone else I ever knew.
+I wonder," said Claud, feeling in his pockets, "if I have a note from
+him that I could show you. Yes. Here, read that. It is not like most
+people's notes."
+
+Wynifred unfolded the stiff sheet of paper, and read. The hand was
+rather small and very peculiar. It seemed as though the writer were
+accustomed to write Greek. It was particularly clear.
+
+     "DEAR CRANMER,
+
+     "Please help me. The German Opera Company is in London, and Miss
+     Brabourne has often expressed a wish to hear some Wagner. If I take
+     a box, could you bring your sister, Lady Mabel Wynch-Frere, and
+     Miss Brabourne to fill it? If you think they would care to come,
+     let me know what night they are free. It is the "Meistersinger" on
+     Tuesday, and "Lohengrin" on Thursday. I wish you would answer this
+     personally, rather than in writing. Dinner this evening at 7.30, if
+     you care for the theatre afterwards. It is a week since we met.
+
+     "Affectionately yours,
+
+     "LEON PERCIVALE.
+
+     "7, St James' Place, Thursday."
+
+"Is there not something unique about that?" asked Claud, as she gave it
+back. "He always signs himself mine affectionately, in the most natural
+way possible. I am glad of it; I have a very sincere affection for him."
+
+"I like his note very much," said Wyn, with a smile. "Thank you for
+letting me see it. You and he are great friends."
+
+"I was with him seven or eight weeks on the _Swan_. He insisted on
+leaving England the moment he found that he had become a public
+character."
+
+"Is he English? His note reads like it."
+
+"I believe his father was English and his mother German; so I presume it
+was through her that he inherited his beautiful _Schloss_."
+
+"Have you seen it?"
+
+"Yes, I spent a week there. It is among the most northern spurs of the
+Tyrolese Alps. When there, you cease to wonder that Percivale is so
+unlike other people. It is like going back into a past age. The
+peasantry are Arcadian to a degree, the spot remote beyond the
+imagination of English people. The nearest railway station leaves you a
+day's journey from Schwannberg. Do you know Defregger's Tyrolese
+pictures? All the people are just like that. Over the door of every room
+in the castle is carved the swan, which is the family crest."
+
+"But his father was English, I think you said?"
+
+"Why--yes--I never thought of that. The arms must belong to the other
+side of the family, I suppose," said Claud, thoughtfully. "That is
+rather odd, certainly."
+
+He turned with a start. Osmond Allonby was standing before them.
+
+"Wyn, I'm sorry to interrupt you but we must really be going. We are
+almost the last."
+
+The girl rose at once, and held out her hand to Claud.
+
+"Good-night, Mr. Cranmer. I wish I had time to hear more about the
+inquest. I had been longing for news, and it is kind of you to have told
+me so much."
+
+He rose too, and took the offered hand.
+
+"Must you go?" he said, scarcely knowing that he said it.
+
+In another moment she had released her hand and was walking calmly away.
+Not a word had she said about hoping to see him again. He was conscious
+of an intense wish that she should not go; he was not strong enough, he
+found, to let her depart thus. He made a step forward.
+
+"Miss Allonby."
+
+She paused.
+
+"I shall be in town for some weeks now, probably. May I come and see you
+at Mansfield Road?"
+
+She turned to her brother.
+
+"We shall be pleased to see Mr. Cranmer, if he cares to come, shall we
+not, Osmond?"
+
+"Certainly," said Osmond, cordially.
+
+"Which day is most convenient for you?"
+
+"You will not find Osmond on Mondays or Thursdays, as he conducts a
+life-class at the Woodstead Art School on those days; any other day.
+Good-night."
+
+She was gone. He felt half-angry that she had so easily led him on to
+waste time in talking of indifferent topics. Yet, had she left him to
+choose a subject, what would his choice have been?
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXXVIII.
+
+    She should never have looked at me if she meant I should not love her!
+    There are plenty ... men, you call such, I suppose ... she may discover
+    All her soul too, if she pleases, and yet leave much as she found them:
+    But I'm not so, and she knew it when she fixed me, glancing round them.
+
+    _Cristina._
+
+
+A variety of reasons kept the Allonbys very silent as they drove home
+that night.
+
+When Mansfield Road was reached, they walked into the hall, still in the
+same silence. Osmond dismissed the cabman, followed them in, and made
+fast the bars and bolts for the night.
+
+"Good-night, old man," said Jac, coming up for a kiss.
+
+"Good-night, young woman," he replied, with the air of one who does not
+intend to be drawn into conversation.
+
+"Girls," said Hilda, over the stairs. "Sal has put a fire in my
+bed-room. Come along."
+
+Jac flew upstairs. Wyn lingered a moment.
+
+"Are you coming to bed, Osmond?" she said, anxiously, as she saw him
+unlock the door leading to the studio.
+
+"I think I'll have a pipe first," he answered, in a constrained voice.
+"Run to bed and don't bother."
+
+She hesitated a moment, but, seeing that interference would be useless,
+went on upstairs, and joined the _seance_ round Hilda's fire.
+
+"Well," said Hilda, with a long sigh, "it _was_ a delightful dance,
+wasn't it?"
+
+"The nicest I was ever at," returned Jac, with smiles dimpling round her
+mouth.
+
+Wyn did not echo these comments. She sat down with a sigh, and pulled
+off her gloves.
+
+"How well our lilies have lasted, Hilda," said Jac, spying at her own
+head in the glass. "Not a bit faded, are they? Wyn, you old wretch, you
+did look well. How everybody praised you up. I should think your head is
+turned."
+
+"Humph!" was Wyn's discontented reply.
+
+There was a pause, during which Jac secured Hilda's programme, and
+stealthily examined it.
+
+"Well!" said Wyn, suddenly. "Now you have seen Lady Mabel, what do you
+think of her."
+
+"She is exactly what I expected," observed Jac, who was possessed of
+considerable acumen. "That impulsive, frank manner is of great service
+to her. Nothing escapes her notice, I can tell you! She has decided not
+to take us up as a family. She does not feel quite sure as to what we
+might do. Vaguely she feels that Hilda and I are formidable, and poor
+Osmond, of course, is to be steadily discouraged. She will ask you, Wyn,
+because you are rather a celebrity just now; but nobody else."
+
+"Jac--I think you misjudge----"
+
+"All right. Wait a fortnight. If an invitation comes for Osmond, Hilda,
+or me, to Bruton Street, I will humbly apologise for my uncharitable
+judgment."
+
+"Jac is right," said Hilda, suddenly. "I spied Lady Mabel's eye upon me
+when I approached with Mr. Percivale!"
+
+"By the way, do you like Mr. Percivale?" asked Wyn.
+
+"I should think so!" was the emphatic answer.
+
+Wyn passed her hand wearily over her brow.
+
+"You look very tired, dear child," said Hilda, sympathetically.
+
+"I am worried--about Osmond," she sighed. "I would give so much if--all
+that--had never taken place between him and Elsa. One sees now how
+hopeless--how _insane_ the bare idea is; but I am afraid he doesn't
+think so, poor fellow!"
+
+"Lady Mabel was very off-hand with him," said Jac. "I was near when she
+was ready to go, and Elsa was dancing with Osmond. Do you know, she
+danced five times with him."
+
+"It was too bad of her!" cried Wyn.
+
+"If she does not mean to marry him, it certainly was," said Hilda.
+
+"Mean to marry him! They would not let her! I am thankful at least that
+there was no engagement," returned Wynifred, with energy. "That would
+just save his dignity, poor fellow, if one could restrain him, but I
+know he will rush like a moth to his candle, and get a fearful snub
+from Lady Mabel." She covered her face with her hands. "I can think of
+nothing else--I can't forget it," she said. "He will never get over it.
+He was never in love before in all his life."
+
+"Won't his pride help him? I would do anything--anything," said Hilda,
+with vehemence, "sooner than let her see I was heart-broken.... I
+suppose she will marry Mr. Percivale."
+
+"Or Mr. Cranmer," suggested Jac, in an off-hand way. "That is what Lady
+Mabel intends, I should think."
+
+Wynifred winced painfully. It seemed as though Osmond's case were thrust
+before her eyes as a warning of what she had to expect. It braced--it
+nerved her to the approaching struggle. She would never be sick of love;
+and she determined boldly to face the sleepless night which she knew
+awaited her--to work hard, go to parties, anything, everything which
+might serve as an antidote to the poison she had imbibed that fatal
+summer.
+
+When at last the girls separated for the night, Osmond was still in his
+studio. It was not till six o'clock had struck that Wyn's wakeful ears
+heard his footstep on the stairs, and the latch of his bed-room door
+close quietly.
+
+Jac's prophecy was fulfilled. A few days brought an invitation to
+Wynifred from Lady Mabel to meet a few friends at dinner in Bruton
+Street. No mention was made in the note of either Osmond or the girls.
+
+"I shall not go!" cried Wyn, fiercely.
+
+"Wyn, my dear child, listen to me," said Hilda, with authority. "You
+_must_ go. Beggars musn't be choosers. Look here what she says--'to meet
+several people who may be of use to you.' Oh, my dear child, you have
+published one successful novel, but your fortune is not made yet, is it?
+Think of poor old Osmond--think how important it is that we should all
+do the best we can for ourselves. In my opinion you ought to go. What do
+you say, Jac?"
+
+"I suppose you must; but I should like to let Lady Mabel know my opinion
+of her," said Jac, grudgingly.
+
+"Be just," urged Hilda. "Lady Mabel very likely thinks that to take us
+out of our sphere and to plant us in hers for a few hours would be to
+unfit us for our work. I believe she is right. What good would it do us
+to sit at her table and talk to men who would only tolerate us because
+we were her guests? Answer me that."
+
+Jac said nothing.
+
+"You see I am right," went on Hilda, triumphing. "She merely thinks, as
+Aunt Anna does, that we had better remain in our humble station; and it
+would be simple cruelty of her to invite Osmond under existing
+circumstances. It would be tantamount to giving him encouragement, would
+it not?"
+
+Osmond himself, somewhat to his sister's surprise, when he heard of the
+invitation, was most anxious that she should accept it. It seemed as if
+anything which brought the two families together, however indirectly,
+was pleasant to him. On the subject of himself and Elsa he, however,
+quite declined to talk; and this reserve of his was to Wyn a dangerous
+symptom. However, he was very quiet, and had not yet made the suggestion
+his sisters dreaded, namely, that one of them should go with him to call
+on Lady Mabel.
+
+Sometimes Wyn almost hoped that he had realised the futility of his
+desires, since Elsa would not be twenty-one till the following
+Christmas, and it was madness to suppose that Mr. Percivale would not
+press his suit before then. Sometimes she dreaded that, as we say of
+children, he was quiet because he was in mischief--in other words, that
+he was corresponding with Elsa, or otherwise intriguing; though this was
+not like Osmond.
+
+With surmises she was forced to rest content, however. The invitation to
+dinner was accepted, and then came wretched days of hesitation and
+cowardice--days when she endured continual fluctuations of feeling, at
+one moment feeling as though all her future hung on that dinner-party,
+at another that nothing should induce her to go when the time came.
+
+She had not, however, very much leisure for reflection just at this
+period. One of the monthly magazines wrote to ask a serial story from
+her on very short notice, and she was obliged to devote her attention to
+the expansion and completion of an unfinished fragment for which, before
+the appearance of "Cicely Montfort," she had tried to find a publisher
+in vain. On the third day after the Miles' ball, as she returned from a
+walk, she found Claud's card in the hall. After the first moment of keen
+disappointment, she was glad that she had not seen him.
+
+What use to feed a flame she was bent on smothering?
+
+She learned from Sal that the visitor had been into the studio and seen
+Mr. Osmond, and to the studio she accordingly bent her steps. Osmond was
+not working. He was seated on the edge of the "throne," his palette and
+brushes idle beside him, his face hidden in his hands. At the sound of
+the opening door, he leaped to his feet, and faced his sister half
+angrily.
+
+"You startled me," said he.
+
+"I am sorry. I hear you had a visitor to-day, so I came to know what he
+said."
+
+"Oh, yes--Cranmer. He didn't say very much. Asked after you all; said he
+hoped you were not very tired after the dance; said he was looking
+forward to seeing you at his sister's. Not much besides. He seems very
+thick with this Mr. Percivale."
+
+Turning aside, he aimlessly took up a dry brush and drew it across a
+finished canvas in slow sweeps.
+
+"Wyn," he asked, "who _is_ this Mr. Percivale?"
+
+Wyn made a gesture of ignorance with her hands.
+
+"I don't know," she said. "Nobody knows much about him. Mr. Cranmer told
+me all he knows the other evening." She related the meagre facts which
+Claud had given her. "But everyone seems agreed that he is very much all
+that can be wished," said she. "What made you ask me, dear?"
+
+"I have been talking to Ottilie Orton," he said; and paused.
+
+"To Mrs. Orton! And what had she to say, if one may ask?"
+
+"You appear," observed Osmond, "to have taken a dislike to the lady in
+question."
+
+"Well, I cannot say she fascinates me. She is so big and bold, and she
+looks artificial. She reminds me of that dreadful middle-aged Miss
+Walters who married the small, shy young curate of St. Mary's."
+
+"She is a very handsome woman," said Osmond obstinately.
+
+"Well, never mind her looks. What has she been saying to you?"
+
+"Oh, she merely remarked," was the reply, as Osmond picked up his
+palette and charged a clean brush with color. "She merely made a remark
+about this Mr. Percivale whom everyone is so ready to take for granted."
+
+"What was the remark?"
+
+"She said there were several ugly stories afloat about him, and that--"
+he paused to put a deliberate touch upon his almost completely finished
+picture--"that his antecedents were most questionable."
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXXIX.
+
+    Love is a virtue for heroes--as white as the snow on high hills,
+    And immortal, as every great soul is, that straggles, endures, and fulfils.
+
+    _Lord Walter's Wife._
+
+
+A long, dark, panelled room, with a low flat ceiling carved with
+coats-of-arms and traversed with fantastic ribs. A room so large and
+long that a small party could only inhabit one end of it. Its age was
+demonstrated by the massive stone mullions of the small windows ranged
+along the wall on one side. There were four of these windows, each of
+them with three lights. Beneath each group of three was a deep,
+cushioned recess.
+
+Opposite the windows were two fireplaces, the elaborately-carved black
+oak mantels reaching to the ceiling. In the further of these a great
+fire burned red and glowing, flinging out weird, suggestive half lights
+into the dim recesses of the chamber, and flecking with sudden gleams
+the multitude of curious things with which every corner was stored.
+
+The room was very still, the air heavy with the scent of flowers; the
+early January darkness had fallen over the great city, but something
+very unlike London was in the warm, fragrant silence of this place. One
+of the diamond-paned casements was open, but through it came no hoarse
+rumble of cart or waggon. An utter peace enfolded everything. Presently
+the door at the near and most densely dark end of the room opened and
+closed softly. From behind the great embossed screen which was folded
+round the entrance a flash of vivid light gleamed. A man-servant
+emerged, carrying a large silver lamp. He traversed the whole length of
+the room, and set down the lamp on a black oak table with heavy
+claw-feet.
+
+The circle of radiance illuminated the scene, rendering visible the
+mellow oil-paintings on the panelled walls, the rich Oriental rugs which
+covered the floor of inlaid wood, and the treasures from all parts of
+the globe, which were ranged in cabinets or on shelves, or lay about on
+brackets and tables. A grand piano stood open not far from the fire, and
+beyond the groups of windows, in the corner, a curtain looped back over
+a small arched entrance looked darkly mysterious, till the servant
+carried in two small lamps and set them down, revealing a fine
+conservatory, and accounting for the garden-like fragrance of the place.
+
+Silently the man moved to and fro arranging various lights, daintily
+shaded according to the present fashion; then, stepping to the windows,
+he closed them, and noiselessly let fall wide curtains of Titian-like
+brocades shot with golden threads.
+
+This accomplished, the general aspect of the lighted end of the room was
+that of sumptuous elegance, warmth, and comfort; while the shadows
+slowly deepening, as you gazed down towards the door, left the dark
+limits indefinite, and conveyed an idea of mysterious distance and
+gloom.
+
+Just as the servant's arrangements were completed, a bell sounded, and
+he hastily left the room as he had entered it, leaving once more silence
+behind him. So still was it that, when the shrill notes of the dainty
+sunflower clock on the Louis Quatorze escritoire rang out the hour in
+musical chimes, it seemed to startle the Dying Gladiator as his white
+marble limbs drooped in the rosy radiance of the big standard lamp.
+
+Again that door opened, away there among the shadows; and slowly up the
+room, in evening dress, with his crush hat, and his inevitable
+Neapolitan violets, came Claud Cranmer, looking about him, as if he
+expected to see the master of this romance-like domain. Percivale was
+not there, however; so, with a sigh of pleasure, Claud sank down in one
+of the chairs set invitingly near the wide hearth, and leaned back
+contentedly.
+
+Apparently, however, solitude and firelight suggested serious thoughts,
+for gradually a far-off look came into the young man's eyes--a tender
+light which seemed to show that the object of his meditations was some
+person or thing lying very near his heart. Presently he leaned forward,
+joining his hands and resting his chin upon them; and was so completely
+absorbed that he did not hear Percivale, who, advancing through the
+conservatory, paused on the threshold, gazing at his visitor with a
+smile.
+
+Reaching out for a spike of geranium bloom, he threw it with such exact
+aim that it struck Claud on the face, startling him so that he sprang
+instantly to his feet, and, facing about, caught sight of the laughing
+face of his assailant.
+
+"Good shot," said Percivale, coming in. "Sorry to keep you waiting, old
+man."
+
+His hands were full of lilies of the valley, which he laid down on a
+small table, and then saluted his guest.
+
+"You told me to come early," said Claud.
+
+"Yes," was the answer. "I wanted to have a talk with you before the
+ladies arrived."
+
+"Delighted. What do you want to talk about?" asked Mr. Cranmer, as the
+two young men settled themselves in comfort.
+
+"It is a subject I have never touched upon before," said Percivale,
+hesitatingly. "Not to you or any man. I hardly know why I should expect
+that you should listen. I have no claim on your attention. I want to
+talk about--myself."
+
+"Yourself?" Claud set up with keenly awakened interest.
+
+"Myself. It is not an interesting topic...."
+
+Breaking off, he leaned forward, supporting his chin on his left hand as
+he stared at the fire. Little flames sprang up from the red mass, cast
+flickering lights on his serious face, and glowed in his dark blue eyes.
+Claud thought he had never seen so interesting a man in his life.
+Whether on board the _Swan_, in his white shirt and crimson sash, or
+here in these quaint London rooms of his, in modern Philistine
+dress-clothes, he seemed equally at home, yet equally distinguished.
+
+Mr. Cranmer waited for what he would say--he would not break in upon his
+meditations.
+
+"Have you ever," slowly he spoke at last, "have you ever given your
+really serious attention to the subject of marriage? I mean, in the
+abstract?"
+
+Claud started, tossed his head combatively, while an eager light broke
+over his face.
+
+"Yes, I have," he replied, quickly. "I have considered very few things
+in my life, but this I have seriously thought over."
+
+"I am glad," said Percivale, simply. "I want to know how you regard it.
+What place ought marriage to take in a man's life? Is it an episode?
+Ought it to be left to chance? Or is it a thing to be deliberately
+striven and planned for as the completion of one's existence? Is
+happiness possible for an unmarried man?--I mean, of course, happiness
+in its deepest and fullest sense? Can a man whose experience of life is
+partial and imperfect, as a single man's must be--can he be said to be a
+judge at all, not having tried it in its most important aspect? What do
+you think?"
+
+"I do wish," said Claud, in an irritable voice, "that you would not put
+your question in that way. I wish you would not follow the example of
+people who talk of marriage in such an absurdly generic way, as if it
+were a fixed state, a thing in which the symptoms must be the same in
+every case, like measles or scarlet fever. I have always thought the
+subject of marriage left remarkably little room for generalising. One
+marriage is no more like another than one man is like another. The Jones
+marriage differs essentially from the Smith, because they are the Jones,
+and the Smiths are the Smiths. Yet people will be absurd enough to argue
+that because Jones is unhappy Smith had better not try matrimony. If he
+were going to marry the same woman there might be a show of reason in
+such an argument; but even then it wouldn't follow, because he is not
+the same man."
+
+Percivale's eyes were fixed on the speaker.
+
+"I see," he said, reflectively. "Your view is that the individual side
+of our nature is the side which determines the success or failure of
+marriage."
+
+"Certainly--especially in this age of detail. In the Middle Ages, when
+life was shorter, people took broader views; and, besides, they had no
+nerves. Any woman who was young and anything short of repulsive as to
+her appearance would suit your feudal baron, who would perhaps only
+enjoy her society for a few weeks in the intervals of following the duke
+to the wars, or despoiling his neighbor's frontier. When they did meet,
+it was among a host of servants, men-at-arms, poor relations, minstrels
+and retainers; they had no scope for boring each other. A man's value
+was enhanced in his wife's eyes when it was always an open question, as
+she bade him adieu, whether they ever met again in this world.
+Moreover, in those days the protection of a husband was absolutely
+necessary to a woman. Left a widow, she became, if poor, a prey for the
+vicious--if rich, for the designing. Eccentricities of temper must have
+been kept wonderfully in the background, when issues like these were
+almost always at stake; the broad sympathies of humanity are, generally
+speaking, the same. Any woman and man will be in unison on a question of
+life or death; but now-a-days how different! Maid, wife, or widow can
+inhabit a flat in South Kensington without any need of a male protector
+to "act the husband's coat and hat set up to drive the world-crows off
+from pecking in her garden"--which Romney Leigh conceived to be one,
+though the lowest, of a husband's duties. And your choice of a woman
+becomes narrowed when one cannot live in London, another will not
+emigrate, a third differs from you in politics, a fourth disdains all
+social duties, a fifth can only sit under a particular preacher, and yet
+another dare not be out of reach of her family doctor. Times are
+changed, sir. Marriage to-day depends on the individual."
+
+"Of course it must, to a large extent; and, to meet the requirements of
+the age, women are now allowed to marry where they fancy, and not where
+they are commanded. Yet, as one looks around at the marriages one
+knows," continued Percivale, "there is a sameness about matrimony."
+
+"Just so," broke in Claud, eagerly. "Because, as we look round, we see
+only the outside life. There is a sameness about the houses in London
+streets; but strip away the wall, and what a difference you will find in
+each! I will find you points of likeness between Rome and Manchester.
+Both are cities, both have houses, streets, shops, churches, passers-by,
+palaces, hovels. So with Jones and Smith. Both are married, both have
+servants, children, houses, bills, all the usual attributes of marriage.
+Yet you might bet with certainty that the general atmosphere of Jones'
+life is no more like Smith's than the air of Rome resembles the air of
+Manchester. It makes me quite angry," went on the young man, with heat,
+"to hear fools say with a smile of some young bridegroom, 'He thinks his
+marriage is going to turn out a different affair from anyone else's.' If
+he does think so, he is perfectly right. It _will_ be different. He
+will have an experience all his own; but it will give him no right at
+all to generalize afterwards on the advantages or disadvantages of
+marriage in the abstract--there is no such thing as marriage in the
+abstract!"
+
+"You take it to heart," said Percivale, smiling at his earnestness.
+
+"I do. Such balderdash is talked now-a-days about it. As if you could
+make a code of regulations to suit everyone--the infinitely varying
+temperaments of nineteenth-century English people!"
+
+"Yet we find one code of laws, broadly speaking, enough to govern all
+these infinite varieties."
+
+"Precisely! Their outer lives. But happiness in marriage does seem to me
+to be such a purely esoteric thing. 'It's folly,' says some one, 'to
+marry on a small income.' I hold that no one has the least right to lay
+down any such thing as a general proposition. It may be the height of
+folly--it may be the most sensible thing in the world. Nobody can
+pronounce, unless they know both the parties who contemplate the step.
+It seems to me that, granted only the right man and woman come together,
+the spring of happiness is from within. I can believe in an ideal
+marriage--I can fancy starvation with one woman preferable to a stalled
+ox with any other; but it must be one woman"--again that most unwonted
+softness in his eyes--"a woman who shall never disappoint me, though she
+might sometimes vex me; who shall be as faulty as she pleases, but never
+base; and then--then--'I'll give up my heart to my lady's keeping,'
+indeed, and the stars shall fall and the angels be weeping ere I cease
+to love her:--a woman, mind you, an imperfect, one-sided, human thing
+like myself!--no abstraction, but just what I wanted to complete me--the
+rest of me, as it were, placed by God in the world, for me to seek out
+and find."
+
+There was a complete silence in the room after this outburst. Claud,
+half-ashamed of his spontaneous Irish burst of sentiment, stared into
+the fire assiduously. Percivale's hand was over his eyes. At last he
+said,
+
+"You and I think much alike; and yet----"
+
+"Yet?"
+
+"You want to bring your love out into the broad daylight of common life;
+you want to yoke her with yourself, to bear half the burden. For me, I
+think I would place mine above--I would stand always between her and the
+daily fret--she should be to me what Beatrice was to Dante: the vision
+of all perfection."
+
+"You must not marry her, then," said Claud, bluntly.
+
+"Not marry her?"
+
+"No woman living would stand such a test. Think what marriage means!
+Daily life together. Your Beatrice would be obliged to come down from
+her pedestal. Not even your wealth could shield her from some thorns and
+briars; and then, when you found a mere woman with a little temper of
+her own instead of a goddess, you would be disillusioned."
+
+After another pause--
+
+"I don't agree with you," said Percivale. "I would make life such a
+paradise for the woman I loved that she should lead an ideal life--my
+experience will be, as you say, solitary. Perhaps other men's marriages
+will never be as mine shall. I speak with confidence, you see;
+because"--he rose, and stood against the mantel-piece, his head resting
+on his hand--"because I have seen the realization of my fancy. It is a
+real woman I worship, and no dream."
+
+Claud raised his eyes, earnestly regarding the fine, enthusiastic face.
+
+"The lady in question is greatly to be envied on most grounds," he said.
+"I only trust she will be able to act up to the standard of your
+requirements."
+
+"My requirements? What do I require of her? Only her love! She shall
+have no trials, no vexations, no more loneliness, no more neglect--if
+only she will let me, I will make her happy!----"
+
+"In point of fact," said Claud very seriously, "you ask of her just what
+God asks of men--an undivided allegiance, a perfect faith in the wisdom
+of your motives, and a resignation of herself into your hands. You ask
+no positive virtues in her--only that she shall love you fervently; in
+return for which you promise her a ceaseless, tender care, and boundless
+happiness. It does not sound difficult; yet human beings seem to find it
+amazingly so; and your beloved is unfortunately human. You see one does
+not realize at first what love implies. No love is perfect without
+self-denial----"
+
+"I require no self denial," cried Percivale.
+
+"I tell you no two people can live together without it."
+
+"I am going to try, nevertheless. When I have been married a year and a
+day, you shall own that I have illustrated your theory, and had an
+experience all my own!"
+
+"Agreed," was the answer, as the honest gray eyes dwelt on the dark-blue
+ones with an affection which seemed tinged with a faint regret. "But
+will you bear to confess failure if--if by chance failure it should be?"
+
+"There is no question of failure," was the serenely confident answer,
+"always provided I attain the desire of my soul. But we have strayed
+wide of the mark in this interesting discussion. What I really wanted to
+consult you about was--was the difficulty of mine." He lapsed into
+thought for some minutes, and seemed to be nerving himself to speak.
+
+"I wonder," he said at last, "if it really is a difficulty, or whether I
+have been making mountains out of mole-hills. Or, perhaps, on the other
+hand, I have not considered it enough, and it may form a serious
+obstacle...."
+
+Claud's attention was now thoroughly aroused.
+
+"It is--it is--" went on Percivale faltering, "it is a family secret--of
+course I need not ask you to consider this conversation as strictly
+private?"
+
+"Of course--of course," said Claud, hastily.
+
+"Well--it is a secret--a secret connected with my--father." It seemed a
+great effort for him even to say this much. "I never opened my lips on
+this subject to any human being before;" he spoke nervously.
+
+"Don't say any more, if you had rather not," urged Claud, gently.
+
+"I want to tell you, and I may as well do it quickly. Percivale was my
+father's christian, not his sur-name. The sur-name was one which you
+would know well enough were I to mention it--it was notorious through
+most parts of Europe. That name was coupled with undeserved disgrace;"
+he paused a moment, to strengthen his voice, then resumed:
+
+"I entreat you to believe that the disgrace was utterly undeserved. It
+broke his heart. He went abroad with my poor young mother; they buried
+themselves in a small, remote German village. There he died; and she
+followed him when I was born. It was believed that he committed
+suicide: that was also untrue; he was murdered, lest the truth should
+come to light. I heard all this from Dr. Wells, a clergyman who had been
+my father's tutor. He was a real friend--the only man to whom my father
+appealed in his trouble. At my birth, he took me to Schwannberg, the
+Castle of which my mother was heiress. She was an orphan when my father
+married her--twenty years younger than himself. Dr. Wells alone knew all
+the exact details of the whole affair. He made a statement in writing,
+which is in my possession, setting forth his knowledge of my father's
+blameless conduct and the manner of his death. I could not show you this
+paper without your knowing my father's name--and that, I hope, is not at
+present necessary. Now, to come to the point. I have always used the
+name of Percivale, because it was my mother's most earnest entreaty on
+her deathbed, that, if I lived to grow up, I should do so. I have not a
+relation living, so far as I know. Do you think that I should be
+justified in marrying without mentioning what I have told you? Should I
+do anyone any wrong by leaving the story untold? You will see that to
+half-tell it, as I have just done, would be impossible. I should have to
+mention names; and--and----" he dropped into a chair, covering his face
+with his hands.
+
+"Dr. Wells was father and mother both to me," he said. "When his health
+failed, I had the _Swan_ built that his life might be prolonged. He
+liked to roam from place to place in the strong sea-air. I think it did
+serve to keep him with me for some time. When I lost him there was no
+one.... He made me promise him to respect my mother's wish, and keep the
+name by which my father had been known a profound secret. The reasons
+for this are partly political. I think he was right, but I find that,
+from having lived so little in the world, I do not always think as
+others do; so I determined to consult you. Do you see any reason to drag
+this Cerberus to the light of day? or should you let it alone?"
+
+Claud sat plunged in thought.
+
+"There is no possibility of its ever getting about unless you mention
+it?" said he at last.
+
+"None, so far as I can see. Even old Mueller, on my yacht, who was a
+servant in the house when my mother died, does not know of my father's
+changed name nor false accusation. No one in England of those who knew
+him under his own name knew of his marriage, still less that he had left
+a son. I have exercised the minds of all London for the past seven
+years, but nobody has ever guessed at anything dimly resembling the
+truth. Were I to proclaim aloud in society that I was the son of such a
+one, nobody would believe me. The secret is not a shameful one. Were I
+the son of a criminal, I would ask the hand of no woman without telling
+her friends of my case; but my father was a gentleman of high birth and
+stainless honor. May I not respect the silence he wished observed as to
+his name?"
+
+"I think so," said Claud, with decision. "I should not even hint at
+there being a mystery surrounding your parentage."
+
+"Naturally not. I must tell all or nothing."
+
+"Then I should tell nothing. I see no reason why you should. Your
+father's secret is your own; I would not blazon it to the world."
+
+"That is your deliberate opinion?"
+
+"Certainly--my deliberate opinion. I am honored, Percivale, that you
+have trusted me so generously."
+
+"I knew you were to be trusted," said Percivale, simply; then, turning
+his face fully towards him with a fine smile, he added--"I shall, of
+course, tell my wife the whole story when we are married."
+
+"What, names and all?" said Claud anxiously.
+
+"Names and all. I will marry no woman unless I feel that I can safely
+lay my life and honor in her hands."
+
+Claud had no reply to make; in the silence which followed, the door at
+the obscure end of the room opened, and the servant, advancing to the
+borders of the lamplight, announced,
+
+"Lady Mabel Wynch-Frere and Miss Brabourne."
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XL.
+
+    Beat, happy stars, timing with things below,
+    Beat with my heart, more blest than heart can tell,
+    Blest, but for some dark undercurrent woe
+    That seems to draw--but it shall not be so:
+    Let all be well, be well.
+
+    _Maud._
+
+
+"Dinner at once, Fritz," said Percivale to his servant, as he advanced
+to meet his guests.
+
+"Are we late?" cried Lady Mabel, as she swept her silken skirts up the
+long room, and greeted her host with extended hand. "It must be Elsa's
+fault, then--she was so long dressing."
+
+"Oh, Lady Mabel!" cried Elsa, in lovely confusion, as she came forward
+in her turn.
+
+She was in black to-night--some delicate, clinging, semi-transparent
+material, arranged in wonderful folds, with gleams of brightness here
+and there. It caused her neck and arms to seem a miracle of fairness;
+the arrangement of her golden hair was perfect, a diamond arrow being
+stuck through its masses.
+
+To the chivalrous poetic mind of her lover, she was a dream of beauty--a
+thing hardly mortal--so transfused with soul and spirit, that no thought
+of the mundane or the commonplace could intrude into his thoughts of
+her.
+
+Disillusioned! Could any man ever be disillusioned who had the depths of
+those lake-like eyes to gaze into?
+
+She gave him her little hand--_bien gantee_--and lifted those eyes to
+his. Lady Mabel had passed on to speak to her brother.
+
+"I have no flowers," said Elsa, softly "you told me not to wear any."
+
+"I wished you to wear mine, will you?" said Percivale.
+
+Her eyelids fell before his eager glance: but she made a little movement
+of assent.
+
+He turned to the table, and taking up the fragrant bouquet of lillies,
+placed it in her hands; then lifting another of mixed flowers, which lay
+beside it, he offered it to Lady Mabel, with an entreaty that she would
+honor him by carrying it that night.
+
+As he spoke, a pair of dark curtains, which hung at the upper end of the
+room, were drawn back by two men in livery; and Fritz, appearing in the
+aperture, solemnly announced,
+
+"Dinner is served."
+
+Percivale offered Lady Mabel his arm, and led her through the archway,
+followed by Claud and Elsa.
+
+"Claud, will you take the foot of the table for me?" said he.
+
+"Which do you call the foot?" laughed Claud, as he sat down opposite his
+host at the daintily appointed round table.
+
+The room was very much smaller than that they had quitted, but was quite
+a study in its way. Vanbrugh had designed the ceiling and carvings, and
+a fine selection of paintings adorned the walls. A beautiful Procaccini
+was let into the wall above the mantelpiece; a Sasso Ferrato was
+opposite. Two Ruysdaels lent the glamor of their deep gloomy wood and
+sky, and the foam of their magic waterfalls. The whole room was lit with
+wax candles, and fragrant with the violets which composed the table
+decorations.
+
+"I am so sorry to seem to hurry you," said Percivale, apologetically;
+"but I want Miss Brabourne to hear the overture; one ought not to miss
+the overture to 'Lohengrin,' though I find it is the fashion in England
+to saunter in in the middle of the first act."
+
+"Oh, dear, yes; but we don't go to the opera to hear music in England,"
+laughed Lady Mabel. "It is to see the new _prima donna_, or study the
+costumes of the ladies in the stalls."
+
+"I should have no objection, if these laudable objects could be attained
+without spoiling the pleasure of those who are sufficiently out of date
+to wish to listen to the performance," replied Percivale. "It is the one
+thing in England which I cannot bear with temper! It would not be
+allowed in Germany."
+
+"Germany is the land of the leal for those that love music."
+
+"Yes, indeed; there one can let oneself go, in utter enjoyment, knowing
+that there can be no onslaught of large and massive Philistine, sweeping
+her ample wraps, kicking your toes, struggling across your knees,
+banging down the seat of her stall with a report that eclipses and blots
+out a dozen delicate chords. No loudly whispered comments, no breathless
+pantings are audible, no wrestling with contumacious hooks and clasps
+sets your teeth on edge. For the unmusical and vociferous British
+female, if she have arrived late, will be forcibly detained at the door
+till the first act is over, and even then will enter despoiled of most
+of her weapons for creating a disturbance, having been forced to leave
+her superfluous clothing in the _garde-robe_."
+
+They had never seen Percivale so gay, nor so full of talk. He chatted on
+about one subject and another, addressing himself mostly to Lady Mabel,
+whilst Claud was constrained to listen, since Elsa was even more silent
+than her wont.
+
+The dinner was excellently cooked and served.
+
+"You are a perfect Count of Monte Cristo, Percivale," laughed Claud. "I
+feel myself waiting for the crowning point of the entertainment. Will
+not your slaves presently bring in a living fish, brought from Russia in
+salt water to die on the table? Shall we each find a Koh-i-noor diamond
+in our finger-bowl as a slight mark of your esteem? Or, at a given
+signal, shall we be buried in a shower of rose-leaves like the guests of
+Heliogabalus!"
+
+Percivale laughed, and reddened.
+
+"Sorry to disappoint you, but I have prepared no conjuring tricks
+to-night," he said. "Another time, perhaps, when we have more leisure.
+Lady Mabel, you must not judge of the entertainment I like to offer my
+guests from this hurried little meal; you will do me the honor to return
+here after the opera, and have some supper? I am afraid we have no time
+to lose now."
+
+"Mabel neither eats anything herself nor thinks that other people ought
+to," complained Claud. "I suffer a daily martyrdom in her house, and I
+am sure I begin to perceive signs of inanition in Miss Brabourne. You
+see, it demoralises the cook. She thinks that to live on air is the
+peculiarity of the upper ten, and wants me to dine on a cutlet the size
+of half-a-crown with a tomato on the top, followed by the leg of a
+quail."
+
+"How can you, sir?" cried Lady Mabel, in mock indignation, shaking her
+fist at her brother.
+
+"I tell you it's the literal truth; that is the real reason why poor
+Edward is wintering abroad. He cannot reduce his appetite to the
+required pitch of elegance."
+
+"If elegance consists in eating nothing, Mr. Percivale may take the
+prize to-night," observed Lady Mabel, significantly, as she and Elsa
+rose from table.
+
+"I--have not much appetite to-night," stammered the young man, in some
+confusion, as he started up and held the curtain for the ladies to pass
+through.
+
+He remained standing, so, with uplifted arm, for several seconds after
+the sweep of Elsa's black skirts had died away into silence; then,
+letting the curtain drop suddenly into place, turned back and tossed his
+crushed serviette upon the table. She had been there--in these lonely
+rooms, which year by year he had heaped with treasures for the ideal
+bride who was to come. Now the fancy had taken shape--the vision was
+realised; the beautiful woman of his dreams stood before him in bodily
+form. Would she take all this treasured, stored-up love and longing
+which he was aching to cast at her feet?
+
+Claud broke in upon his reverie.
+
+"I wish you luck, Leon," said he, coming up and grasping his hand.
+
+His friend turned round with a brilliant smile.
+
+"That is a capital omen," he said, "that you should call me by my name.
+Nobody has called me by my name--for five years. Thank you, Claud."
+
+He returned the pressure of the hand with fervor; then, starting, said:
+
+"Come, get your coat, we shall be late," and hurried through the
+archway, followed by Mr. Cranmer.
+
+The opera-house was crowded that night. There were the German
+enthusiasts occupying all the cheap places, their scores under their
+arms, their faces beaming with anticipation; there was the fashionable
+English crowd in the most costly places, there because they supposed
+they ought to say they had heard "Lohengrin," but consoling themselves
+with the thought that they could leave if they were very much bored, and
+mildly astonished at the eccentricity of those who could persuade
+themselves that they really liked Wagner. And lastly, there were the
+excessively cultured English clique, the apostles of the music of the
+future, looking with gentle tolerance on the youthful crudities of
+"Lohengrin," and sitting through it only because they could not have
+"Siegfried" or the "Goetterdaemmerung."
+
+A very languid clapping greeted the conductor of the orchestra as he
+took his seat. Percivale, watching Elsa, saw her eyes dilated, her whole
+being poised in anticipation of the first note, as the _baton_ was
+slowly raised. There was a soft shudder of violins--a delicate agony of
+sound vibrated along the nerves. Can any operatic writer ever hope to
+surpass that first slow sweep of suggestive harmony? From the moment
+when the overture began, Percivale's beloved sat rapt.
+
+The curtain rose on the barbaric crowd--the dramatic action of the opera
+began. At the appearance of her namesake, the falsely accused Elsa of
+Brabant, a storm of feeling agitated the modern Elsa as she gazed.
+
+At last she could keep silence no longer. Turning up her face to
+Percivale's, who sat next her:
+
+"Oh," she whispered, "it is like me--and you came, like Lohengrin, to
+save me."
+
+He smiled into her eyes.
+
+"Nay," he said, "I am no immortal or miraculous champion; you will not
+induce me to depart as easily as he did. Besides, I do not think he was
+right--he demanded too much of his Elsa--more than any woman was capable
+of. You will see what I mean, when the next act begins."
+
+To these two, as they sat together--so near--almost hand-in-hand, the
+music was fraught with an exquisite depth of meaning which it could not
+bear to other ears.
+
+As the notes of the distant organ broke through the orchestra, and
+rolled sonorous from the cathedral doors, it was like a foreshadowing to
+Percivale of his own future happiness.
+
+And when, in the twilight of their chamber, Lohengrin and Elsa were left
+alone, and the mysterious thrilling melody of the wonderful love-duet
+was flooding the air, unconsciously the hand of the listening girl fell
+into that of her lover, and so they sat, recking nothing of the
+significance of the action, until the curtain fell.
+
+"Now you will see," spoke Percivale, softly, "that Lohengrin did what I
+could not do; he left his--Elsa."
+
+She did not answer; she could not. Ashamed of her late action, and with
+a tumult of strange new feelings stirring in her heart, she turned her
+head away from him, and would not speak again until the end of the
+opera.
+
+"I want to offer an apology," said Percivale to Lady Mabel, as he
+arranged her cloak. "Will you condescend to drive back in a hansom? My
+coachman has rheumatism, and I told him he was not to come for us."
+
+"Certainly. I have a great partiality for hansoms," answered Lady Mabel,
+readily; she was rather disconcerted, however, a moment later, to find
+that it was her brother who was at her elbow.
+
+"Where is Elsa? Claud, you should have taken her," she said, rather
+irritably.
+
+"I? Thanks, no. I don't care to force my company on a young lady who
+would rather be with the other fellow. No hurry, Mab. I want to light a
+cigar."
+
+"Nonsense, Claud. Get me a cab at once. Am I to wait in this draughty
+place?"
+
+"You must, unless you are prepared to walk in those shoes as far as the
+end of the street."
+
+"But where are the other two? Are they behind?"
+
+"No; got the start of us, I fancy," said Claud, with exasperating
+calmness. "Wait a moment. I will go out and catch a cab if you will stay
+here."
+
+He vanished accordingly and his sister was constrained to wait for him.
+When at last he returned, she was almost the only lady still waiting.
+
+"You have no idea," said Claud, apologetically, "of the stupendous
+difficulty of finding a cab. They all say they are engaged. I feel quite
+out of the fashion, Mab; I think I ought to be engaged."
+
+"I'm not in a mood for nonsense, sir. I am vexed with you, and with Mr.
+Percivale, too. He could not have meant to treat me like this--he had no
+right to make off in that manner and leave me in the lurch."
+
+"To be left in the lurch _is_ sometimes the fate of chaperones,"
+observed her brother, pensively, as he piloted her out of the theatre.
+"I am afraid you hardly counted the cost, Mab, when you offered to
+chaperone a beauty. It is hardly your _role_, old lady."
+
+This was too true to be pleasant. Lady Mabel was so accustomed to male
+admiration that she usually took it for granted that she was the
+attraction. The great influx of young men which inundated Bruton Street
+had caused her, only a few days back, to congratulate herself that her
+charms were still potent. Percivale's good looks, riches, and generally
+unusual _entourage_ had led her to imagine that a platonic friendship
+with him would enliven the winter. The idea suggested by her brother's
+words was like a douche of cold water. If he were such an idiot as to be
+in love with the pretty face of the foolish Elsa--well! But he was so
+fascinating that one could not help regretting it! He was raised all of
+a sudden to a much higher value than the crowd of adorers who in general
+formed her ladyship's court. Surely he could not intend to go and tie
+himself down at his age! The thought greatly disturbed her.
+
+"Claud, you must throw away that cigar, and tell him to let down the
+glass--I am frozen."
+
+Claud complied.
+
+"He's going in a very queer direction," observed he, presently. "Hallo,
+friend, this is not the way to St. James's Place."
+
+"Thought you said St. James' Square, sir."
+
+"Well, I didn't; it's exactly the opposite direction, down by the
+river----"
+
+"Right, sir. I know it."
+
+"I suppose you will get there some time to-morrow morning," observed his
+sister, icily.
+
+"I am tearing my lungs to pieces in my efforts to do so," was the polite
+response.
+
+Percivale and Elsa stood together in the lamplight.
+
+Thanks to Claud's kindly manoeuvres, a precious half-hour had been
+theirs. The young man's arms were round the slim form of his beloved and
+there was a look in his eyes as though, to him, life had indeed become
+the "perfumed altar-flame" to which Maud's lover likened his.
+
+A deep hush was over the whole place, and over his noble soul as he held
+his treasure tenderly to him.
+
+Presently, breaking through his rapturous dream, he led her to the
+window, and, pushing it open, they gazed down on the wide dark waters of
+the Thames, lighted by a million lamps.
+
+"We stand together as did Lohengrin and his Elsa," he murmured. "Oh,
+love, love, love, if I could tell you how I love you!"
+
+"It is sweet to be loved," said the girl. "I have never had much love,
+all my life. When first I went abroad, and began to read novels, I used
+to wonder if any such thing would ever happen to me."
+
+"But--but," faltered Percivale, a sudden jealous pang darting through
+his consciousness, "did not some one speak to you of love before--before
+I ever saw you, sweet?"
+
+"Oh, Osmond Allonby. Poor Osmond!" Leaning back against his arm she
+turned her beautiful face to his. "I did not know what love meant,
+then," she said.
+
+He bent his mouth to hers.
+
+"You know now, Elsa?"
+
+Even as he kissed her, a sudden unbidden memory of Claud's warning words
+rushed in and seemed just to dash the bliss of that caress.
+
+"You ask more than any woman can give?" No, he fiercely told himself, he
+asked of her nothing but to be just what she was. Was it her fault that
+Osmond could not look on her without loving? Most certainly not.
+
+Love and happiness, the two things from which this rich young man had
+been debarred, seemed all his own at last.
+
+Farewell to lonely cruising and aimless travels. His heart's core, his
+life's aim was found; the birthday of his life had come.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XLI.
+
+    Well, you may, you must, set down to me
+    Love that was life, life that was love;
+    A tenure of breath at your lips' decree,
+    A passion to stand as your thoughts approve,
+    A rapture to fall where your foot might be.
+
+    _James Lee's Wife._
+
+
+"Come in," was the languid reply, as Lady Mabel knocked briskly at her
+young guest's bed-room door.
+
+Lady Mabel had been up for hours. If there was one thing upon which she
+prided herself, it was on being an exemplary mother. She had breakfasted
+with her little girls and their governess at eight, had seen her
+housekeeper, made arrangements for her dinner-party that night, send
+Claud out shopping for her with a lengthy list of commissions, written
+several notes, and now, trim, freshly dressed, and energetic, presented
+herself at Elsa's door to know how she felt after the fatigues of her
+first opera.
+
+Elsa was just out of her bed. She was lolling in a deep luxurious
+arm-chair, with all her golden hair streaming about her. Her room was in
+a state of the utmost disorder, and her French maid stood behind her
+with an expression of deep and embittered sulkiness.
+
+"My good child, what is the meaning of all this mess?" cried Lady Mabel,
+somewhat aghast. Miss Brabourne's habits daily set all her teeth on
+edge; though her shortcomings were probably only the natural rebound
+after the state of repression and confinement in which she had been
+brought up.
+
+At Edge Combe there had been no shops, and she had been allowed no
+pocket-money; consequently she now never went out for a walk without
+lavishly purchasing a hundred useless and costly trifles with which she
+strewed her room. Under the regime of the Misses Willoughby no
+untidiness had been permitted; Miss Brabourne had darned her own
+stockings and repaired her own gloves. Now she let the natural bent of
+her untidy disposition have full play, flung her things about in all
+directions, and never touched a needle. In her childhood she had been
+obliged to rise at seven, and practise calisthenics for an hour before
+breakfast. Now that this restraint was removed, she never rose to
+breakfast at all, but usually spent the entire morning dawdling about in
+her bed-room in a loose wrapper, and with her hair hanging over her
+shoulders.
+
+Like Lady Teazle, she was more self-indulgent, and gave far more trouble
+to her maid, than if she had been reared in habits of the greatest
+luxury. All her tastes were expensive and elegant. Dress was almost a
+mania with her, and no sooner had she been allowed to plan her own than
+she manifested a wonderfully correct taste. The rustic nymph, on whom
+Percivale's eyes had first fallen when he landed on Edge Beach, had
+entirely disappeared in the Miss Brabourne who lived only for fashion,
+admiration, and amusement.
+
+She knew exactly what suited her--how daring her perfect complexion and
+fine shape permitted her to be in her choice of color and style--how
+the greatest severity only showed up and enhanced her beauty the more.
+Her whole time was devoted to the planning of new toilettes; her
+lengthiest visits were to her dressmaker.
+
+Henry Fowler had not thought it prudent to make an exceedingly large
+allowance to a girl who had never had money to spend before; but this in
+no way circumscribed Elsa's movements, since before she had been a week
+in London she found out that unlimited credit could be hers.
+
+The account-books carefully prepared by Aunt Charlotte before taking
+leave of her young niece lay at the bottom of her trunk, the virgin
+whiteness of their pages unmarked by a single entry. She had come to
+London to enjoy herself, and she meant to do so. Her visit could not
+last more than a few weeks, and then she would have to go back to Edge.
+
+This thought was horror and misery unutterable. She loathed the place.
+Every association was hateful to her. She never wished to behold it
+again. As each day brought her nearer to the hideous prospect, her
+spirit shrank from it more and more. There was no other house in London
+where she could become a visitor, as the break with the Ortons was of
+course complete and final. And there was no hope at all of the aunts
+bringing her to town. The agitations of the past summer had greatly
+aggravated Miss Helen's weakness, and Miss Charlotte and Miss Emily had
+declared, on returning from their four months abroad, that they should
+not dare leave Fanny again in sole charge.
+
+The thought of living the spring and summer through mewed up in lonely
+captivity at Edge, after the intoxicating taste of life and pleasure
+which she had had, was too terrible to be borne with gratitude.
+
+Elsa could see no way out of the dilemma but to be married.
+
+But Osmond Allonby could not help her here. He could not afford to marry
+yet; and to be married at once was her aim. And now, suddenly,
+unexpectedly, dazzlingly, here was Mr. Percivale, the wonderful owner of
+the yacht, the stately gentleman, the rich, mysterious stranger,
+offering her his heart as humbly as if she had been an empress.
+
+The girl felt her triumph in every fibre of her nature. It had not
+occurred to her to think of Percivale as her lover.
+
+His stately courtesy and distant reverence had seemed to her like pride.
+He had never been openly her slave, as was Osmond, whose infatuation had
+been patent from the first moment of meeting. Her admiration for the
+hero had been always mixed with a certain fear and great shyness.
+
+She had heard him discussed wherever they went--here in London as well
+as all along the Mediterranean--when, wherever the yacht put in, it had
+been the cause of boundless excitement and interest, heightened to
+fever-heat when it was discovered that the solitary and mysterious owner
+had friends on board.
+
+She knew that he was considered one of the "catches" of society--that to
+be on intimate terms with him was the aim of some of the leaders of the
+world of fashion. Town gossip never tired of his name, and whatever it
+had to say of him had been listened to with eager ears by Elsa.
+
+Gossip and scandal had never been heard at Edge Willoughby; they had all
+the charm of novelty to the uninitiated girl, who absorbed the contents
+of every society journal she could get, and was far better versed in the
+latest morganatic marriage or the Court sensation than was Lady Mabel,
+who, being genuinely a woman of intelligence, usually let such trash
+alone.
+
+Thus were filled the blank spaces which Elsa's training had left in her
+mind. Wynifred's dictum had been perfectly accurate. Not knowing their
+niece's proclivities in the least, the Misses Willoughby had not known
+what to guard against in her education. They had regarded her as so much
+raw material, to be converted into what fabric they pleased; now, her
+natural impulses began to show themselves with untutored freedom.
+
+She was acutely alive to the importance of her conquest, but she was,
+let it be granted her, perfectly honest, as far as she knew, in telling
+Percivale that she loved him. She liked him very much; she admired his
+personal appearance exceedingly; she was beyond measure flattered at his
+preference; she preferred him, on every ground, to either Osmond
+Allonby, or any other man she had ever seen.
+
+Of what love, in its highest and deepest sense, meant--such love as
+Percivale offered her--she was intensely ignorant; but few men will
+quarrel with incomprehension, if only it be beautiful; and how beautiful
+she was! Even Lady Mabel confessed it, much as the girl irritated her,
+as she sat supine before her in the easy-chair, lightly holding a
+hand-mirror.
+
+"My dear Elsa, are you aware that Mr. Miles will be here in half-an-hour
+for a sitting?"
+
+"I know," said Elsa, in her laconic way; adding, as if by an
+after-thought. "It isn't my fault; Mathilde is so stupid this morning. I
+must have my hair properly done when Mr. Miles comes, and I have had to
+make her pull it all down twice."
+
+"There is no satisfying mademoiselle," muttered Mathilde.
+
+"Mathilde, don't be rude," said Elsa, calmly.
+
+Poor Mathilde! To her were doled out, day after day, all the countless
+small grudges owed to Jane Gollop by her young mistress. Like all
+oppressed humanity, when once the oppression was removed, Elsa
+tyrannised. The maid proceeded to lift the luminous flexible masses of
+threaded gold, and to pack them afresh over the top of the small head in
+artistic loops, the girl keenly watching every movement in the mirror.
+
+"Don't wait, please, Lady Mabel," said she, abstractedly, arranging the
+soft short locks on her brow. "I shall be down in ten minutes; I want to
+say something to you particularly."
+
+Lady Mabel, after a significant glance round the room, shrugged her
+shoulders, and went out.
+
+"Her husband need be rich," she soliloquised as she descended the
+stairs.
+
+Claud was seated in her morning-room, his youngest niece upon his knee.
+This fascinating person, whose age was three, was confiding to her uncle
+the somewhat unlooked-for fact that she was a policeman, and intended to
+take him that moment to prison. If he resisted, instant death must be
+his portion. Two plump white fists were clenched in his faultless
+shirt-collar, and he hailed his sister's entrance with a whoop of
+relief.
+
+"Just in time, Mab! My last hour had come," he cried, as he relegated
+the zealous arm of the law to the hearth-rug, stood up, and shook
+himself. "Why do children invariably select the tragedy and not the
+comedy of life for their games? I should think, Mab, for once that you
+and I assisted at a wedding we took part in a hundred executions--ay,
+leading parts, too; the bitterness of death ought to be past for us
+two."
+
+"Have you been taking care of this monkey?" said Mab, rubbing her face
+lovingly against his arm. "What a comfort you are to have in the house,
+dear boy; far more useful than my visitor upstairs, for instance. She is
+not handy with children, to say the least of it."
+
+"She has not had my long apprenticeship," returned Claud,
+good-humoredly. "Hallo, Kathleen mavourneen, I draw the line at the
+poker, young lady."
+
+"Baby, be good," said baby's mother, as her daughter was reluctantly
+induced to part with her weapon. "You make excuses for Elsa, Claud; why
+don't you admit that you are as much disappointed in her as I am?"
+
+"Because I am not at all disappointed in her. You know, after the first
+few days, she never attracted me in the least."
+
+"I know. I used to wonder why. Now I give you credit for much
+discrimination. She will never make a good wife."
+
+"I say, that is going too far, Mab. She may develop--I hope--" he
+paused, and his voice took an inflection of deep feeling--"I devoutly
+hope she may."
+
+"Why?"
+
+"Because the happiness of the best man I know is absolutely dependent on
+her."
+
+"Claud! He told you?"
+
+"Yes."
+
+The young man leaned his arm on the mantelpiece, fixing a meditative eye
+on his niece as she crawled up his leg.
+
+"Did you--did you not--dissuade him in any way?"
+
+"No," was the slow reply.
+
+"I think, Claud, if he asked for your opinion--"
+
+"Well, he didn't--that is, not on the lady. He did not even mention her
+name. I told him that, broadly speaking, I thought everything depended
+on compatibility of disposition; but what on earth is the use, Mab, of
+cautioning a man who is head over ears in love, as he is? You might as
+well try to stop Niagara; he is beyond the reasoning stage. Besides,
+what could I urge? That I believed the lady of his choice to be selfish,
+vain, and not too sweet-tempered? I couldn't say that, you know; and of
+course he thinks he is likely to know about as much of her as I do; he
+has been with her, on and off, ever since the autumn."
+
+"Oh, you men, you men!" cried Mab. "Caught by a pretty face, even the
+best and noblest of you!"
+
+"Not I," interrupted Claud, shortly. "No! That beautiful girl upstairs
+doesn't know what it means to love as I would have my wife love me. She
+has no passion in her! And she does not know the value of love! She does
+not know that it is the one, only central force of life--the thing
+without which any lot is hard--with which any hardship is merely a
+trifle not worth noticing. How should she know the power of it, that
+flame which, once lit, burns slowly at first,--cold, perhaps, and
+faintly--for the loves that flare up at once are straw fires, they burn
+out. This that I mean grows slowly, steadily, till all the heart is one
+glowing, throbbing mass, flinging steadfast heat and radiance around.
+This is love."
+
+Lady Mabel's susceptible Irish eyes were wet. She had missed her life's
+aim, not through her own fault: which fact perhaps helped to make her
+brother so tender to her failings, so anxious for her happiness.
+
+"You speak feelingly, Claud," she said.
+
+"Do I?" said the young man. He lowered his eyes to the carpet, and
+blushed, smiling a little.
+
+"Claud!" vehemently cried his sister, "you are in love!"
+
+"If I am, it is with my eyes open. I am not a boy, Mab."
+
+"No, indeed; but who can she be. Won't you tell me, dear?"
+
+"I can't tell you, because I'm afraid I am in the ignoble case of loving
+without return. You see," he faltered, "there is nothing very heroic
+about me--nothing that I ever said or did, as far as I know, would
+entitle me to the slightest respect from any woman with a high standard.
+Look at my life. What have I done with it? Just nothing. Why, Kathleen
+mavourneen," cried he, diving down to the rug, and catching the warm
+white child in his arms, "the most onerous of my duties has been to
+carry you up to bed on my shoulder, hasn't it?"
+
+"Claud, my dear old man, you mustn't! Why, what an untold comfort you
+have been to me when Edwar--when I could not have lived but for you!"
+cried Mab, the tears splashing on her cheeks. "I envy your wife! She
+will have the most constant, loving care of any woman under heaven--you
+will be an ideal husband--the longer she is married the better she will
+learn to appreciate you!"
+
+"I never shall have a wife at all, Mab, if I cannot get this one," said
+Claud, with a ring of determination in his voice which was quite new.
+
+Lady Mabel contemplated him for a moment.
+
+"Is she rich, Claud?"
+
+"No," said he, laughing a little.
+
+"So I expected. Trust you never to love a rich woman. You would sit down
+and analyse your feelings till you became perfectly certain that some
+greed of gain mingled with your affection. But, my dear boy, forgive the
+pathos of the inquiry, but how should you propose to set up
+housekeeping?"
+
+"I should take a post--cut the Bar and take a post."
+
+"Charming, but who will offer the post?"
+
+"A friend of mine," was the mysterious reply.
+
+"Percivale, of course. Well, I suppose he has influence. Poor fellow! I
+could wish him to have a happier future than seems to me to lie before
+him."
+
+"Tell you, Mab, you take too serious a view. I will sketch his married
+career for you. The first six weeks will be bliss unutterable, because
+he will himself turn on his own rose-colored light upon everything and
+everybody, and his bride will be beautiful, amiable, and passive. Then
+will come a disillusioning, sharp and bitter. He will be most fearfully
+upset for a time, there will be a period of blank horror, of
+astonishment, of incredulity, almost of despair. Then will dawn the
+period when the bridegroom will discover that his wife is neither the
+angel he first took her for, nor the fiend she afterwards seemed, but a
+very middling, earthly young person, with youth and beauty in her favor.
+Once wide awake from the dream that was to have lasted for ever, he will
+pull himself together, and find life first tolerable, then pleasant; but
+for the remainder of his days he will never be in love with his wife
+again, even for a moment. Now in my case----"
+
+He had never mentioned his love before to anyone; in fact, until last
+night's talk with Percivale he had scarcely been sure of it himself. To
+use his own metaphor, his friend had stirred the smouldering hot coals,
+and they had burst into blaze at last. The earth and air were full of
+Wynifred. The end of life seemed at present to consist in the fact that
+she was coming to dine that night.
+
+His sister's thoughts still ran on Percivale.
+
+"Claud," she said, "do you really think it will be as bad as that?"
+
+"More or less, I am afraid so. He is a man with such a very high
+ideal--with a rectitude of purpose, a purity of motive which do not
+belong to our century. Miss Brabourne _must_ disappoint him. But she is
+very young, and one can never prophesy exactly ... marriage sometimes
+alters a girl completely, and his nature is such a strong one, it must
+influence hers. I think she is a little in awe of him, which is an
+excellent thing; though how long such awe will last when she discovers
+that his marital attitude is sheer prostration before her, I cannot
+tell. Besides, he does not really require that she shall love him, only
+that she shall permit him to love her as much as he will; at present, at
+least, such an arrangement will just suit her."
+
+As he spoke the words, the door opened to admit Elsa herself.
+
+She entered, looking such a picture of girlish grace and sweetness as
+more than accounted for Percivale's subjugation. She wore the
+semi-classic robe of white and gold, in which Mr. Miles had chosen to
+paint her; and, as it was an evening dress, she had covered her
+shoulders with a long white cloak, lined with palest green silk.
+
+"Oh!" she stopped short, laughing. "Good-morning, Mr. Cranmer! I did not
+know you were here. I feel so crazy, dressed up like this in broad
+daylight. I wonder if I might be rude enough to ask you to turn out for
+a few minutes? I want to speak to Lady Mabel."
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XLII.
+
+    He either fears his fate too much,
+      Or his deserts are small,
+    That fears to put it to the touch
+      To win or lose it all!
+
+    _Marquess of Montrose._
+
+
+Lady Mabel's dinner-party was a very cultured but also a somewhat
+unconventional one. Twelve was the number of guests, and all of them
+were young, lively, and either literary, scientific, artistic, or
+otherwise professional.
+
+Wynifred had been invited, as Jacqueline's penetration had divined,
+solely on the score of "Cicely Montfort's" success.
+
+If there was one thing that Lady Mabel loved, it was a gathering of this
+sort: where everything imaginable was discussed, from anthropomorphism
+to the growing of tobacco in England--from Egyptian hieroglyphics to the
+latest _opera bouffe_. The relations of her ladyship's husband would
+have had a fit could they have peeped from the heights of their English
+starch and propriety at the _mixed_ company in Bruton Street. But, not
+greatly to his wife's regret, Colonel Wynch-Frere's health had entailed
+a sojourn in Egypt for the winter, and his relations were conspicuous by
+their absence. Claud, her unconventional, happy-go-lucky brother, made
+all the host she required. However little he might care for the young
+actors and journalists who adored his sister, he was always genially
+ready to shake hands and profess himself glad to see them; and when his
+eldest brother, the earl, complained to him of Mabel's vagaries, he
+would merely placidly reply that he did not see why the poor girl should
+not have some pleasure in her life--let her take it how she pleased.
+
+Her ladyship was, of course, a holder of that unwritten axiom which
+governs modern culture, _Intelligence implies infidelity_.
+
+If she met anyone who had read, or thought, on any subject whatever,
+she took it for granted that they had decided that the gospels were
+spurious, and St. Paul, as Festus discovered, beside himself. Of course
+she, in common with everyone else equally enlightened, kindly conceded
+the extreme beauty of the gospel narrative and the great force of St.
+Paul's reasoning on false premises--as furnishing a kind of excuse to
+those people who had ignorantly accepted them as a Divine message for so
+long.
+
+The great charm of holding these opinions was that she found so many to
+sympathise with her, and she had invited a selection of these to dinner
+that night, sure that the conversation would be most interesting and
+instructive. Concerning Wynifred's views on this point she had no
+definite knowledge. "Cicely Montfort" spoke of Christianity as still a
+vital force, and of the Church Catholic as bearing a Divine charter to
+the end of time; but, of course, Christianity is a very artistic theme,
+with highly dramatic possibilities, and the most utter unbeliever may
+use it effectively to suit the purposes of fiction. Anyway, Lady Mabel's
+breadth of view constrained her to hope the best--to expect
+enlightenment until ignorance and superstition had been openly avowed;
+so she invited Miss Allonby to dinner.
+
+Her pretty drawing-room was as complete as taste could make it; she
+herself was a study, as she stood on the fur hearth-rug, receiving her
+friends, with all her Irish grace of manner.
+
+Wynifred was in anything but high spirits when she arrived. To begin
+with, she was overworked. In her anxiety to render Osmond independent,
+she had been taxing her strength to its utmost limits all the winter
+through. In the next place, she was angry with herself for having
+accepted the invitation; she thought that it showed a want of proper
+pride on her part. Finally she was very unhappy over herself, on account
+of her utter failure to drive the thought of Claud Cranmer from her
+heart. Her self-control seemed gone. She had exacted too much from the
+light heart of girlhood--had employed her powers of concentration too
+unsparingly. Now the mainspring had suddenly failed; she felt weak and
+frightened.
+
+What was to be done if her hold over herself should give way altogether?
+A nervous dread was upon her. If her old power over her feelings was
+gone, on what could she depend? All the way to Bruton Street she was
+calling up her pride, her maidenliness, everything she could think of to
+sustain her; yet all the time with a secret consciousness that it was
+like applying the spur to a jaded horse--sooner or later she must
+stumble, and fall exhausted.
+
+She looked worn and pale as she entered the room. Claud took note of it.
+Had he been on the brink of falling in love, it might have checked him;
+but, as he was already hopelessly in that condition, it merely inspired
+him with tenderness unutterable. It no longer mattered to him whether
+she were plain or pretty, youthful or worn; whatever she was, he loved
+her.
+
+It so happened that she was obliged, after just greeting him, to take a
+seat at the further side of the room, and politeness forced him to
+continue the discussion on Swinburne into which he had been drawn by the
+last new poetess, a pretty little woman with soft eyes and a hard mouth,
+who was living separated from her husband, but most touchingly devoted
+to her two children. She was a spiritualist, and had written a book to
+prove that Shakespeare was of the same following, so that her
+conversation was, as will be divined, deeply interesting.
+
+Wyn, for a few minutes, sat without speaking to anybody, taking in her
+surroundings gradually. It seemed as if things were on a different
+footing--as if all were changed since the old days at Edge. Claud, in
+his simple faultless evening attire, with his smooth fair head under the
+light of a yellow silk lamp-shade, and the last new book balanced
+carelessly between his fingers as he leaned forward in his low chair,
+was in some indefinable way a different Claud from him who had stood
+with her in the garden of Poole Farm in the glowing twilight of the
+early summer night, which had brought back life to Osmond.
+
+The room was a mass of little luxuries--trifles too light and various to
+be describable, all the nameless elegancies of modern life, with its
+superfluities, its pretence of intellect, its discriminating taste. It
+was not exactly the impression of great wealth which was conveyed--that,
+as a rule, is self-assertive. Here the arrangement was absolutely
+unconscious; there was no display, it was rather a total ignorance of
+the value of money--the result of a condition of life where poverty in
+detail was unknown. Lady Mabel had often experienced the want of money,
+but that meant money in large quantities; she had been called upon to
+forego a London season; she had never felt it necessary to deny herself
+a guinea's-worth of hot-house flowers.
+
+Wynifred sat in the circle of delicate light, feeling in every fibre of
+her nature the rest and delight of her surroundings. The craving for
+beautiful things, for ease and luxury, always so carefully smothered,
+was wide awake to-night. Lady Mabel seemed environed in an atmosphere of
+her own. The short skirts and thick boots which she had used in
+Devonshire were things of the past. Her thick white silk gown swept the
+rug at her feet, her emeralds flashed, her clumps of violets made the
+air sweet all round her. It was something alien from the seamy side of
+life which the girl knew so well. That very day she had travelled along
+Holborn, in an omnibus, weary but hopeful, from an interview with her
+publisher. Now the idea of that dingy omnibus, of the yellow fog, muddy
+streets, dirty boots, and tired limbs;--of the lonely, ungirlish
+battling for independence, sent through her a weak movement of false
+shame. It was repented of as soon as felt; but the sting remained. It
+was not wise of her to visit in Bruton Street. What had she in common
+with Lady Mabel, or--Lady Mabel's brother? Her unpretentious black
+evening dress, though it fitted well, and showed up the delicate skin
+which was one of her definite attractions, seemed to belong to a lower
+order of things than the mist of lace, silk, sparkles, and faint perfume
+which clad her hostess.
+
+No, she was not wise, she told herself, in the perturbation of her
+spirits. What besides discontent could she achieve here?
+
+This unhappy frame of mind lasted about a quarter-of-an-hour. Then she
+began to call herself to order. Lady Mabel's attention was diverted by a
+young man who was yearning to rave with her over the priceless depths of
+truth revealed in the latest infidel romance, and the fearless manner in
+which the devoted author had stripped Christianity of its superstitions,
+to give it to the world in all its uninspired simplicity. Like the
+authoress of the book in question, Lady Mabel had imbibed her Strauss
+and her Hegel somewhat late in life, as well as a good deal late in her
+century. Doctrines burst upon her with all the force of novelty which,
+in the year 1858, a champion of Christianity had been able calmly to
+describe as "a class of objections which were very popular a few years
+ago, and are not yet entirely extinguished."
+
+The calm disapproval with which Miss Allonby found that it was natural
+to listen to the two speakers restored to her a little of her waning
+self-respect. A wave of peace crept into her soul. Social distinctions
+seemed very small when coupled with the thought of that divinity so
+lightly discussed and rejected in this pretty drawing-room. A movement
+at her side interrupted her thoughts. Claud had moved to the seat next
+her.
+
+"I wonder how you like Belfont in 'The Taming of the Shrew?'" he said,
+as though purposely to turn her attention from what she could not avoid
+hearing.
+
+It was done, as she had learnt that all his graceful little acts were
+done, with a complete show of unconsciousness; but her gratitude made
+her answering look radiant with the vivid expression which was to him so
+irresistible.
+
+Yet, even as she met his kind eyes, she experienced a pang. Why was this
+man placed out of her reach--this one man whose sympathies were so
+wonderfully akin to her own? He could interpret her very thoughts; the
+least thing that jarred upon her seemed to distress him also.
+
+"You were out, when I called," said he, after a few minutes.
+
+She could find nothing more striking in reply than a bare "Yes."
+
+"I saw your brother," he went on, diffidently. "Did he mention our
+conversation to you?"
+
+"No; that is, nothing particular."
+
+"Ah! I was afraid I had put my foot into it," said Claud, taking up the
+black lace fan from her knee and playing with it.
+
+"What did you say?" asked the girl, with eager anxiety.
+
+"It was a thankless task--one usually burns one's own fingers by trying
+to meddle with other people's affairs; but I thought," said the young
+man, "as I had seen a good deal of Allonby last summer, that I would be
+doing him a good turn if I let him know the state of affairs?"
+
+"The state of affairs?"
+
+"Yes: with regard to my friend Percivale and Miss Brabourne. You see,
+she knew nothing and nobody when your brother spoke to her last summer.
+It was unfortunate ... but it could not be helped ... the long and short
+of it is, however, that I am afraid she has changed her mind."
+
+Wynifred controlled herself; after all, it was only a definite statement
+of what she had known must be the case.
+
+"You--told Osmond this?" she faltered.
+
+"I tried to; I daresay I bungled; anyhow he took it in very bad part.
+Said it was a pity for outsiders to meddle in these things, especially
+when they were so imperfectly informed."
+
+"Oh!"
+
+"I daresay it was entirely my fault; but I thought, in case he had been
+abusing me, that I must justify myself with you.... I mean, I want you
+to believe that my motive was kind."
+
+"I do believe it."
+
+How thankful she felt that the room was full of people! Had they been
+alone she must have broken down. As it was, he must see that her eyes
+were full of tears; and, had her life depended upon it, she could not
+have helped answering his tender gaze of sympathy with such a look as
+she had never given him before. It was a look of utter, defenceless
+weakness--a look of girlish helplessness--it sent his heart knocking
+wildly against his side. He drew his breath in sharply, through his set
+teeth. Had there been no audience he would have tried his fate there and
+then.
+
+Surely it was the subdued woman's heart that appealed to him from those
+pathetic eyes. Ah, would she only overlook his inadequacy, his
+short-comings, and let him be to her what an inner consciousness told
+him that he alone could! He sat gazing at her, oblivious for the moment
+of his surroundings; she scattered his dream by a hurried question--the
+eloquent silence was more than she could bear.
+
+"Forgive my asking,--but--is anything decided yet?"
+
+"I think you have every right to know as much as I do of the matter.
+Percivale proposed to her last night, and was accepted. Of course,
+nothing can be announced until the Misses Willoughby sanction the
+engagement. He has written this afternoon; but I cannot imagine that any
+difficulty will be made on their part; he is so altogether
+unexceptionable."
+
+As he spoke, a door opposite them opened, and Elsa appeared in the
+doorway. She was smiling--her soft dreamy smile--and her hands were full
+of flowers. Her lover was just behind her, his face aglow with happiness
+and satisfaction. They came in together; a sudden shade dropped over
+Elsa's face as her eyes met those of Wynifred. A slight color rose to
+her cheeks, and she hesitated.
+
+Wynifred rose, went forward, shook hands, and inquired after the Misses
+Willoughby in a perfectly natural manner; but she failed to reassure the
+girl, who answered hurriedly, with a look of guilty consciousness, and
+escaped as soon as she possibly could to the other side of the room.
+
+"It is very natural," said Wyn, with a sad little smile to Claud, "that
+she should be shy of me; but she need not. I do not blame her in the
+least; if anyone is to blame in the matter it is poor Osmond. I fancy he
+is likely to suffer pretty severely for his imprudence."
+
+"Miss Allonby," said Lady Mabel, approaching with the young man she had
+been talking to, "I want to introduce you to a most interesting person
+to take you down to dinner. He is an esoteric Buddhist--so earnest and
+devoted, as well as intensely enlightened. Mr. Kleber--Miss Allonby."
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XLIII.
+
+    No man ever lived and loved, that longed not,
+    Once, and only once, and for one only,--
+    Ah, the prize!--to give his love a language.
+
+    _One Word More._
+
+
+At an earlier period in her career, the esoteric Buddhist would have
+amused Wynifred beyond measure. She would have regarded him as material
+for a sketch of character, and drawn him out with such intent; but she
+was past this, to-night.
+
+She had burst all barriers--all care for her professional career was
+gone; she recked nothing of whether she ever again wrote a line, or not;
+everything which made up the sum of her daily existence was forgotten,
+or if remembered seemed poor, trivial, unimportant, beside the present
+fact of Claud sitting at the foot of the table, with the spiritualist
+poetess on his right and a lady politician on his left, each talking
+across him without intermission, as it seemed, and sometimes evidently
+amusing him, for he smiled a pre-occupied smile from time to time. But
+ever his eyelids were lifted to where sat the pale girl in black
+separated from him as far as circumstances permitted, eclipsed and
+blotted out by the vivid color of the young actress who sat near her,
+and by the regal beauty of Elsa opposite.
+
+Usually, Wynifred easily held her own among women with twice
+her charms, by the spell of her conversation; but to-night she was
+silent--abstracted--trying to give her best attention to her neighbor,
+but with ears stretched to catch the accents of the low, hearty Irish
+voice at the end of the table. Lady Mabel, who had heard something of
+the girl's brilliancy, was quite cast down. Wyn absolutely declined the
+_role_ of Authoress to-night, and was almost stupid in some of her
+answers, avowing that she did not believe in the astral fluid, and
+getting hopelessly wrecked on the subject of Avatars, which dimly
+recalled to her mind Browning's poem, "What's become of Waring?"
+
+When the move was made, and the ladies rose from table, it was almost
+with a pang that she left the room in which Claud remained. She dared
+not lift her eyes to his, as he stood holding back the door for them to
+file out, yet the bent, shy head inspired in him a hope unfelt before.
+Was consciousness awake at last;--that consciousness which for his own
+amusement he had tried to stir at Edge, and which had annoyed him so
+greatly by falling to sleep again and declining to be roused? A dream of
+utter personal happiness enfolded him, and made him a more negligent
+host than was his wont; and, as Percivale too was aching to be in the
+drawing-room, the male contingent soon made their appearance, to the
+delight of the ladies and the chagrin of the professional gentlemen, who
+most of them found a good deal of wine necessary to support their
+enormous and continuous brain-efforts.
+
+But no further word with Miss Allonby was possible for Claud.
+
+A sudden suspicion had flashed across the mind of Lady Mabel--dismissed
+as unlikely, but still leaving just enough weight to make her determine
+that no unnecessary words should pass between them. She did not like
+Wynifred, and she had never imagined for a moment that her brother did,
+until to-night. Even now she was by no means sure of it; only Claud
+seemed abstracted and unlike himself. She dexterously kept him employed
+with first one person, then another, using the same tactics with the
+girl, until the cruelly short evening was past, and Wynifred had to rise
+and make her adieux, feeling something as if she had been through a
+surgical operation--that it was over--and that she was living still.
+
+Never would she visit that house again, she truly vowed, as she dragged
+her tired limbs upstairs. This was the limit of her endurance. Not any
+motive, whether of self-interest, or of foolish, worse than foolish
+infatuation, should drag her there. As she came down Claud stood in the
+hall at the foot of the staircase, waiting.
+
+"Are you driving home alone, Miss Allonby?"
+
+"Yes; I could not ask Osmond to fetch me from this house, could I? But I
+am not nervous, thank you."
+
+"But I am, for you. Will you not allow me to come with you?"
+
+Now, if ever, must be the moment of strength--now one last effort of
+self-command. Let the heart which is bleeding to cry, "Come!" be
+silenced--let maidenly pride step in. What! allow Claud Cranmer to drive
+home with you when you are in this mood--when one kind word would draw
+the weak tears in floods--oh, never, never, never!
+
+"Come with me, Mr. Cranmer? On no account, thank you,"--a chilly manner,
+a spice of surprise at the offer. "It will break up your sister's party.
+Good-night."
+
+At the same moment the drawing-room door above opened quickly, and Lady
+Mabel's voice was heard.
+
+"Henry! is Mr. Cranmer there? I want him."
+
+"You see," said Wynifred, with a little smile. "Good-night again."
+
+She was gone.
+
+A moment later, and the tears had come--had gushed freely as the rain.
+Alone in the London cab, the girl bowed herself together in the
+extremity of her pain. It was no use to argue or ask herself why; only
+she felt as if all were over. Had she done right? Was it indeed wise to
+be so proud? Was it possible that really, after all, he loved her as she
+loved him? If so, how she must have hurt him by her cold refusal! And
+yet--yet--the sons of earls do not marry girls in Wynifred's position.
+Better a broken heart than humiliation, she cried bitterly. Did not the
+warning of poor Osmond's hideous delusion loom up darkly before her?
+
+Yet where was the comfort of right-doing? Nowhere. If this were right,
+she had rather a thousand times that she had done wrong. Oh, to have him
+there beside her, on any terms--recklessly to enjoy the delight of his
+presence, caring not what came after. So low does love degrade? she
+questioned.
+
+After a few minutes, her wildness was a little calmed. An appeal had
+gone up to the God Who, in Lady Mabel's creed, was powerless to save,
+yet the thought of Whom seemed the only remedy for this misery; she felt
+anew that she was in reality neither reckless nor degraded, only worn
+out, mind and body.
+
+The cause of her wild longing for Claud was as much the feminine desire
+to rest on the strength of a masculine nature as the weaker yearning to
+be loved. With Osmond she had been always the supporter, never the
+supported; to the girls she had been forced to stand in the light of
+father and mother, as well as sister; and it had come to be a family
+tradition that Wyn was indifferent to anything in the shape of a
+love-affair--impervious as far as she herself was concerned, though
+sympathetic enough in the vicissitudes of others.
+
+It seemed, indeed, a hard dispensation both for brother and sister that,
+when at last their jealously-guarded and seldom-spent store of sentiment
+found an object, it should be in each case an object out of reach.
+
+It seemed to Wynifred as if to-night a climax was reached. The point had
+come when she could bear no more; she could do nothing but sit and
+suffer, with a keenness of which a year ago she had not deemed herself
+capable.
+
+Mansfield Road was reached at last.
+
+Somewhat to her surprise, lights were in the dining-room window, and, as
+the wheels of her vehicle stopped, a hand drew aside the blind, and,
+some one looked eagerly out. Almost at once the hall door was flung
+open, and Wynifred painfully conscious of red and swollen eyelids,
+walked slowly in.
+
+Osmond was holding back the door with such a pleasant, happy smile, as
+drove a fresh knife into her heart. Was she to be the messenger to dash
+his cup of joy from his lips, and tell him that his hopes lay in ruins
+all around him? She felt that it was impossible--at least, yet; and,
+before she had time to think more, Hilda's voice broke in from the
+dining-room:
+
+"Is that you, Wyn? Do come in--there's some news--guess what has
+happened! Osmond and I waited up to tell you."
+
+She walked in, feeling stiff, mazed, and as though the familiar room was
+strange to her. Sally, who was also standing by, participating in the
+general excitement, burst out--
+
+"Bless me, Miss Wyn, whatever is the matter? You look like a ghost!"
+
+"I am tired, Sally--dead beat--that is the only expression that conveys
+my meaning. I told you I was done up before I started, did I not?... I
+shall be--well again to-morrow. What is the news?"
+
+Hilda's eyes were soft and almost tearful.
+
+"Can't you guess?" she said.
+
+Wyn flashed a look round, noting Jac's absence.
+
+"Jac!" she said, involuntarily.
+
+"She would not stay up to tell you herself," smiled Hilda.
+
+"Not--oh, Hilda, not--Mr. Haldane?"
+
+"Yes; they are engaged," said Osmond, brightly. "It will be a wrench, at
+first, to lose Jacqueline out of the house; but think what a match it
+will be for her! Such a delightful fellow! Ah, Wyn, I am not too selfish
+to be able to rejoice in their happiness. They have nothing to wait for!
+He can well afford to be married to-morrow, if it please him. She is a
+fortunate girl!"
+
+"She deserves it!" cried Hilda, loyally. "Oh, Wyn, they are so
+deliciously in love with one another!"
+
+In the midst of this family sensation, Wyn could not bear to launch her
+thunderbolt. To destroy, at a word, all Osmond's peace was more than she
+felt herself equal to. The little drop of balm seemed to blunt for a few
+minutes the keen edge of her own pain.
+
+In Jac's little room, with her arms about the pliant young form, and the
+blooming head hidden in her neck, she could feel for the time almost
+happy in the hushed intensity of the girl's love.
+
+It was what the others had longed for, but scarcely dared to hope. In
+fact, much as she liked young Haldane, Wynifred had never encouraged his
+visits much, for fear of breaking Jacqueline's heart. But now all was
+right. The young man had chosen for love, and not for gain. Jacqueline
+would be a member of one of the oldest county families in England. No
+wonder that the engagement shed a treacherous beam of unfounded hope
+over Osmond's path. If Ted Haldane could marry for love, other people
+equally exalted might do the same.
+
+For a few hours he must go on in his fool's Paradise. Wynifred _could
+not_ speak the words which should wake him from his dream.
+
+All night long she lay with eyes wide open to the winter moonlight,
+watching the pale stars hang motionless in the dark soft sky, bright
+things which every eye may gaze upon, but no man may approach. Their
+measureless distance weighed upon her as if to crush her. A leaden clamp
+seemed bound round her aching temples. To live was to suffer, yet the
+relief of sleep was unattainable. Faster and faster the thoughts whirled
+through her tortured brain. There was no power to stop them. Over and
+over again she lived through the events of last evening; over and over
+again she heard each word that Claud had uttered; again she saw the open
+doorway, the regal girl with her flowers, her lips curved with laughter,
+her lover attendant at her side. One after the other the pictures chased
+each other through her mind, in never-ending succession, till it seemed
+as if she must go mad. There was no respite, no moment of blissful
+unconsciousness till the laggard January dawn had come, and Sally was
+filling her bath with the customary morning splash.
+
+It seemed a bitter irony. Was this morning, then, like any other
+morning, that the habits and customs of the house were to go on as
+usual?
+
+"Am I to get up?" asked she, in a dazed way. "Why yes, of course. I must
+get up, I suppose."
+
+"Ain't you well, Miss Wyn?" queried Sally, in a doubtful voice.
+
+"Not quite, Sal. I have been working too hard, I think. But now I
+remember, I must get up, for my proofs are not corrected. When they are
+finished, I think--I think that I must take a little rest."
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XLIV.
+
+                                  Unwise
+    I loved and was lowly, loved and aspired,
+    Loved, grieving or glad, till I made you mad,
+    And you meant to have hated and despised,
+    Whereas you deceived me, nor inquired.
+
+    _The Worst of It._
+
+
+It was the second morning after Lady Mabel's dinner-party. Claud and his
+niece sat together in the morning-room, discussing the affairs of the
+nation. A large picture-book was spread out across the young lady's
+knees, and her most serious attention was being bestowed on a picture of
+Joseph in the pit, which subject her uncle elucidated by a commentary
+not exactly remarkable for Scriptural accuracy.
+
+He was preoccupied and bothered, and did not find the child's chatter so
+engrossing as usual, for he had many things on his mind.
+
+There came an imperative knocking at the street door. He heard it, but
+without any particular anxiety. No visitor would penetrate into Mab's
+sanctum. It was not until the steps of the butler sounded along the
+tiled passage outside that he leaped to his feet with Kathleen in his
+arms, acutely conscious of the shabbiness of his brown velvet
+morning-coat.
+
+There was a sharp rap on the door, then it was thrown broadly open, and
+in the aperture appeared the sturdy square figure, sun-browned face, and
+grizzled hair of Henry Fowler.
+
+"Any admittance?" said his kind voice, cheerily. "I wouldn't let the
+good gentleman outside announce me. I think he took me for a country
+farmer, come to pay his respects--and he might have made a worse guess.
+How are you, my lad, how are you?"
+
+Claud had swooped upon him, dragged him in, shut the door, and now
+stood shaking the two firm hands in their tawny doe-skin gloves as
+though he would shake them off.
+
+"If anything in the world could make me feel good-tempered at this
+moment, it's the sight of you!" he cried, joyously. "Where did you
+spring from? What brought you up? How long can you stay? Tell me
+everything. This is a surprise of the right sort, and no mistake!"
+
+"Not so very surprising, is it?" asked Henry, as he drew a letter in
+Percivale's unmistakable hand from his breast-pocket. "I thought I must
+come and settle this in person. I am the Misses Willoughby's delegate."
+
+"Capital! Don't care what brings you. I only know how glad I am to see
+you."
+
+"Not more so than I to see you, my lad. You don't look as well, though,
+as you did when you left Lower House. You must come down again as soon
+as ever you can get free of dissipations. Your chair still looks vacant
+at table, and your horse is eating his head off in the stable. George
+took him for a gallop the other day, and managed to lame him slightly.
+'Eh,' says he, 'there'll be the devil to pay when Mr. Cranmer comes
+down!' So you see you're expected any time."
+
+"How good that sounds!" cried Claud, sitting on the table and swinging
+his legs boyishly. "Ah, I would like to be there at this minute! You
+have had some fine seas rolling up in Brent Bay, I'll go bail! I fancy I
+can still feel the salt sting of that sou'-wester we faced together. And
+the excitement in which the _Swan_ made her _debut_!"
+
+"Ay! That storm had consequences we little recked of," said Henry,
+thoughtfully fingering the letter in his hand. "To think of little Elsa!
+Well! Miss Ellen always said so. She was right, as usual. She is a woman
+of talent, is Miss Ellen, as well as being a saint on earth. But now,
+Claud, tell me, how have matters been arranged? I am an old stager, you
+see, and doubtless I don't march with the times; but this seems to me to
+be a very rapid business! 'Off with the old love and on with the new!'
+What has become of young Allonby? Has he quitted the lists, or how has
+he been disposed of?"
+
+Claud put his hands over his ears with a gesture of despair.
+
+"You may as well not waste your breath," he cried, in mock anger, "for
+not one word shall you get out of me on the subject of Miss Brabourne's
+love-affairs! I am sick of it! From morn till dewy eve do I hear of
+nothing else! It is my sister's one topic of conversation, and Percivale
+talks of it unceasingly! He has been here already once this morning
+pestering me to go with him to get her a necklace, or a plaything, or
+something! I'm hanged if I do! I have nothing to do with the
+matter--what's more, it doesn't interest me much! And now you come, on
+the top of everyone else, and gravely ask my opinion, or advice, or
+anything you please. Seriously, Fowler, you must excuse me; I will have
+nothing to say in the young lady's affairs, either to meddle or make. It
+is no business of mine whether she marries you, or the prime minister,
+or a crossing-sweeper, or anyone she chooses. I have worries enough of
+my own without puzzling over her the whole day long!"
+
+"Poor fellow! Are you worried?" asked Henry, kindly, looking doubtfully
+at him. "You should come and live with me--I am sure the life would suit
+you. I have just lost my overseer--Preston--you remember him! His work
+would do admirably for you, young man--much better than lounging about
+up here in London in hot rooms, doing nothing."
+
+"Doing nothing? I am minding the baby," said Claud, lightly, but the
+color flew to his fair face and he looked confused. "It is no good
+trying to reform me," he said, after a moment, his hot cheek against
+Kathleen's floss-silk curls; "I am an incorrigible idler."
+
+"I never knew a man less idle by disposition than you are," was the
+answer, as Henry regarded him with a look at once wistful and
+disapproving.
+
+"You're not thinking of getting married, then?" he asked, after an
+interval.
+
+"Married--I? No," stammered Claud, incoherently, as he rose, set the
+child on the rug, and walked to the window.
+
+There was a short, uncomfortable silence. Henry's puzzled gaze still
+followed the young man. At last, as if resigning the subject in hand as
+hopeless, he asked, abruptly:
+
+"Where's Elsa?"
+
+"Miss Brabourne? Oh, in bed."
+
+"In bed? Is she ill? You should have told me."
+
+"Oh, dear no, she is not ill. These are merely fashionable habits.
+Percivale thought, like you, that she must be ill; I had great
+difficulty in restraining him from rushing up to obtain the latest
+bulletin."
+
+"But--your sister--the butler said she was out!"
+
+"Oh, my sister is an early riser. She always breakfasts at eight."
+
+"So used Elsa--she was the soul of punctuality."
+
+"A compulsory punctuality, perhaps?"
+
+"Well--I suppose so; but why--what on earth can induce her to stay in
+bed till this hour?"
+
+"I am sure I don't know. Perhaps it is to take care of her complexion."
+
+"Take care of her complexion!... The child must have altered
+strangely----"
+
+"No; I don't think she has altered much; she has merely developed."
+
+As he spoke, the door was flung open, and Miss Brabourne, in her
+riding-habit, entered.
+
+"Lady Mabel, my horse is late again----" the frown died away from the
+pretty forehead, the great blue eyes grew wide with surprise.
+
+"God-father!"
+
+"Well, god-daughter! Are you surprised? Not more than I am. My little
+girl is a woman of fashion now!"
+
+"Oh, how can you? Poor little me," said the girl, with an affected
+little laugh which jarred upon his nerves. "I am so pleased to see you!
+Are you come to stay here?"
+
+"Of course," put in Claud, hurriedly.
+
+"Thanks, Elsie, I shall perhaps be in town for a few days, but I prefer
+my own old room at the Langham."
+
+"My sister won't hear of such a thing," urged Claud.
+
+"Lady Mabel is more than kind, but I am an old bachelor, and I like my
+liberty. And so, Elsie, you are very well and blooming?"
+
+"Oh, very, very! I am enjoying myself so much here!"
+
+"I have a great deal to say to you, but you are going out now, I see?"
+
+"Yes," she said, composedly, "I am going out now, but of course you will
+stay to lunch, and I shall see you afterwards. Mr. Cranmer, did you see
+Mr. Percivale?"
+
+"Yes; he was very disappointed not to see you."
+
+"He should not come before lunch. I must tell him so; he might know I
+should not be visible," said Percivale's betrothed, coolly.
+
+The butler appeared.
+
+"Captain and Miss St. Quentin are at the door, and your horse is round,
+miss."
+
+"At last!" She caught up her gold-tipped riding-whip with her
+gauntletted hand, and waved it merrily at her god father. "I am going
+for a gallop round the Park with the St. Quentins, and then I shall see
+you again," she cried. "Mr. Cranmer, come and mount me, please, the
+groom is so awkward." She paused a moment at the door. "I have a great
+deal to tell you," said she, nodding, "so mind you are here on my
+return! I must not keep my friends waiting."
+
+She was gone.
+
+Mechanically Mr. Fowler went out into the hall and looked. Through the
+open door the gay winter sunshine shone on the glossy horses and the
+young, well-dressed riders. Claud helped the heiress to her saddle,
+gathered up the reins, gave them into her hands, bowed, patted the
+mare's glossy neck, and the party started away.
+
+"She never asked after her aunts," Mr. Fowler was reflecting. "Not one
+word. And they brought her up."
+
+Claud hardly liked to meet his eye as he returned slowly up the hall.
+His sympathy for the elder man was at that moment deep and intense.
+Henry had never been blind to Elsa's failings, but had always ascribed
+them to her bringing-up, and believed that, in a more genial atmosphere,
+they would vanish; that, when treated with love, the girl would grow
+loving. She had always in old days been so fond of him, clung to him,
+cried at his departure. He forgot that at that time his was the only
+notice she ever received, whereas now she had more notice from everyone
+than she knew what to do with. Collecting himself with an effort, he
+turned to Claud.
+
+"I have some business I must see after just now," he said. "Am I likely
+to find Lady Mabel if I come about five?"
+
+Claud thought it was kinder to let him go for the present. He had
+forgotten with what suddenness the change in the girl would come upon
+one who had not seen her for some months.
+
+Henry left the house in a reverie so deep that he walked on, hardly
+knowing where. He was mystified, staggered, what the French call
+_bouleverse_. If a girl could so develop in a few months, what would she
+be in another year? Was it safe to let anyone marry such an
+extraordinary uncertainty? The problem was no nearer to being solved
+when he discovered that it was past two o'clock. Sensible of the pangs
+of a country appetite, he went to a restaurant, lunched leisurely, and
+then decided that it was not too early to present himself at Mansfield
+Road for a morning call.
+
+It was strange how his spirits rose and his thoughts grew more agreeable
+as he walked briskly on. It was so pleasant to think that he was going
+to see Wynifred. Of course she might, and very probably would, be out;
+but he should not be discouraged. He meant to see her; if not to-day,
+then to-morrow; and he was a person who resolved seldom and firmly.
+
+The aspect of the little house pleased him. The small garden strip was
+black and bare with winter, but indoors through the window could be seen
+a row of hyacinths in bloom, and a warm curtain of dull red serge was
+drawn across the hall, visible through the glass lights of the front
+door.
+
+With a glow of pleasurable anticipation, he applied his hand to the
+knocker. Before he had time to breathe, the red curtain was torn aside,
+a girl had darted forward, seized the handle, and ejaculating, "Well?"
+in a tone as if her very life depended on the answer, fell back in
+confused recognition and apology.
+
+It was Wynifred--but what a Wynifred! She looked all eyes. Her face was
+sheet-white, her hair thrust back in disorder from her forehead; her
+expression conveyed the idea of such suffering that her visitor's very
+heart was riven.
+
+"Mr.--Fowler," she said, faintly. "Oh, I beg your pardon. Come in. We
+are in--trouble."
+
+He closed the door, tossed his stick into a corner, and, taking both the
+girl's hands, drew her into the little dining-room.
+
+"Miss Allonby," he said, in tones whose affectionate warmth was in
+itself a comfort--"Miss Allonby, if you are in trouble, I must help you.
+I have come at the right moment. Now, what is it? Do you feel able to
+tell me?"
+
+She sank upon a chair, turning her quivering face away out of his sight.
+
+"Oh!" she said, "how can I tell you? How can I? It is all so miserable,
+so.... What a way to receive you!... You must have thought me mad."
+
+"I thought nothing of the kind. I could see that you were utterly
+over-wrought. For pity's sake, don't make apologies--don't treat me as
+if I were a stranger. Tell me what the trouble is."
+
+She lifted her eyes, the lashes drowned in tears that could not fall.
+
+"I will show you, I think," said she. "Come."
+
+Rising, she hastily went out, he following, expecting he knew not what.
+She led him into the studio.
+
+It was a fair-sized room, built out behind the small house. Usually it
+was a charming place. Girlish fingers had arranged quaint pottery and
+artistic draperies--placing lamps in dark corners, flowers in vases, and
+tinting the shabby furniture with color. The piano stood there, and near
+the fire a well-worn sofa, and two or three capacious wicker chairs.
+
+To-day a nameless desolation overspread the very air. Mr. Fowler
+entered, and looked straight before him. An enormous canvas was mounted
+on a screw easel in the best light the room afforded. The landscape had
+been put in with masterly freedom, and was almost finished. But a hole a
+foot square gaped in the centre of the picture, and the canvas was
+hacked and torn away in strips, some lying on the floor beneath. Near
+this ruin was a gilt frame, the portrait from which had been slit clean
+out, torn across and across, and left in fragments. So all round the
+room. Picture after picture had been torn from the wall, and dashed to
+the ground as if by a frenzied hand. A pile of delicate water-color
+studies on paper lay in the grate half charred, wholly destroyed. The
+whole scene was one of utter and hopeless wreckage. The mischief was
+irremediable.
+
+The visitor uttered an exclamation of consternation. "What does it
+mean?" he asked.
+
+"I don't think I ought to tell you," said the girl, who was standing
+against the wall as if for support, her head thrown back, her eyes
+raised as if to avoid seeing the desolation which surrounded her.
+
+"Nonsense. You _must_ tell me," said Henry, bluntly.
+
+Slowly she took a letter from her pocket, went forward, and laid it on a
+table which stood near the centre of the room. The table was heaped with
+a confusion of brushes, tubes of color, palette knives, varnish bottles,
+and mugs of turpentine, all of which had been pushed hastily together,
+that the letter might occupy a prominent position by itself.
+
+"When I went to call my brother this morning," said Wyn, obeying his
+mandate as if she could not help herself, "I could not make him hear. At
+last I went in. He was not in his room; he had not been to bed at all.
+It seemed to give me a terrible shock: I--I--partly guessed ... I knew I
+ought to have told him; but I...."
+
+"Don't reproach yourself--go straight on," said Henry, anxiously.
+
+"I rushed down here: for he has done such a thing as sit up all night.
+He was gone; the room was as you see it. That letter was on the table."
+
+He possessed himself of the envelope. It was hastily scrawled on the
+outside in pencil, "For Wynifred." In a tremor of apprehension, he drew
+out the enclosure. It was in Elsa's hand-writing.
+
+     "DEAR MR. ALLONBY,
+
+     "I am afraid this letter will make you very angry, and this makes
+     me sorry to write, as I have always liked you so much, ever since I
+     knew you. But I think I ought to let you know that I have found out
+     that I do not love you well enough to marry you some day, as you
+     hoped. I am engaged to be married to Mr. Percivale, who was so kind
+     and good when everyone else thought that I had killed my brother. I
+     hope this will not disappoint you too much, and that we shall
+     always be friends. I send my love to your sisters, and remain,
+
+     "Yours sincerely,
+
+     "ELAINE BRADBOURNE.
+
+     "P.S.--You see I had not seen Mr. Percivale when I said I would
+     marry you."
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XLV.
+
+    Now I may speak; you fool, for all
+    Your lore! WHO made things plain in vain?
+    What was the sea for? What the grey
+    Sad church, that solitary day,
+    Crosses and graves, and swallows call?
+
+    Was there nought better them to enjoy,
+    No feat which, done, would make time break
+    And let us pent-up creatures through
+    Into eternity, our due?
+
+    _Dis aliter visum._
+
+
+At this letter Mr. Fowler stared, as though some magnetic power rivetted
+his eyes to the sheet.
+
+At last he slowly lifted his gaze, to fix it on Wyn.
+
+"Is this the only intimation--the only explanation she has given him?"
+
+The girl assented.
+
+"It is my fault," she said, huskily. "I knew it two days ago, Mr.
+Cranmer told me, but I had not the heart nor the strength to tell
+Osmond; I could not!"
+
+"It is monstrous, heartless. I cannot understand it," he said, in a
+harassed voice. "Something should be done--she should be made to feel--I
+think Percivale should see this letter!"
+
+"Oh, no! No! You must not think of such a thing!" Leaping up, the girl
+caught the letter from his hand. "It is not her fault--not her fault--it
+was poor Osmond's!... What she says is true. She had seen no one when he
+spoke to her. She did not understand what it meant! Her mind was like a
+child's--unformed. She could not have remained as she was then. It is
+natural, it is what I felt would come."
+
+"But this unnatural, insolent brevity!" cried Henry, indignantly. "See
+here: 'To be married, as _you_ hoped.' 'I hope _you_ will not be
+disappointed.' Nothing of what it costs her to write and own her change
+of feeling. I call it intolerable."
+
+"Oh, it is better so! Better any brevity, however crude, than hollow
+professions, or--or useless regret. You must not blame her, please, Mr.
+Fowler. It will be all right soon, as soon as I hear that he is safe,"
+panted poor Wyn, biting her pale lips.
+
+"How can you take her part, here in the ruin she has caused?" demanded
+Henry, fiercely.
+
+"She did not cause it. I will be just," said Wyn, faintly but firmly.
+"Osmond has deluded himself. She never loved him--he should have known
+it. She had forgotten him in a month. She never came here, never wrote
+to us, never took any steps to renew the intimacy, yet he would go on,
+hugging his folly, though I told him what it would be."
+
+Even in his agitation he had time for a passing feeling of fervent
+admiration for the woman who could be just at such a crisis.
+
+"I will spend no more time in lamenting over spilt milk," he said, "but
+see if I cannot help you, Miss Wynifred. I suppose your brother's
+absence is the chief trouble?"
+
+She answered by a movement of the head.
+
+"What steps have you taken?"
+
+"Mr. Haldane, who is engaged to Jacqueline, has gone to Scotland Yard. I
+thought it was his knock when you came--that was why I went to the door.
+The girls are gone together to telegraph to a friend of his who lives in
+a little remote village; he sometimes goes there, we thought it was
+possible he might have done so to-day."
+
+"Just so; then you have no idea of where he went, or what he meant to
+do?"
+
+"None at all. Oh," she began to shiver nervously, "you do not think he
+has--do you? People do such fearful things sometimes ... and he is one
+of those gentle, passive men, with a terrible temper when once he is
+roused; you can tell, by this room, what a state of mind he was in. I
+knew it would be so! I said, if she failed him, he would never do a
+stroke of work again. Oh, if that were really to be true!"
+
+She gave a cry of helpless pain.
+
+"Say you don't think he has done it!" she gasped.
+
+"I am sure he has not. He is a brave man and a Christian. No man who had
+your love left to him would take his own life," cried Henry,
+incoherently. "Keep up your courage, Miss Wyn, you have so much nerve."
+
+"Not now--not now. It has gone. Come away, come out of this room, I
+cannot bear it, it stifles me."
+
+She moved uncertainly towards the door, almost as if she were groping.
+
+"My head aches till I can scarcely see," faltered she, apologetically.
+
+His eyes were fixed apprehensively on the slight figure which moved
+before him. Just as she reached the dining-room door, she swayed
+helplessly. It was well that the sturdy Henry, with his iron muscles,
+was behind her. He took her in his arms as if she had been a little
+baby, laid her on the sofa, and fetched the water from the sideboard.
+Her faint was deeper, however, than he had anticipated, and, after ten
+minutes of absolute unconsciousness, he was constrained to go to the top
+of the kitchen stairs and call Sally.
+
+"Fainted again, has she?" said the good woman, grimly. "I knew she
+would. She's overdone, is Miss Wyn, and this here nonsense of Master
+Osmond's has been the finishing touch. Don't talk to me! He's no right
+to go off like that, nor to carry on like a madman because he's
+disappointed. But men are poor things, and he don't know nor care what
+he makes his sisters suffer. Here I comes down this morning to see Miss
+Wyn fainted dead off in the middle of all that rummage on the studio
+floor; and I can tell you, sir, it give me a turn, for I thought, from
+the state of the room, as somebody had been a-murdering of her. Dear,
+dear, she is dead off. I suppose you couldn't carry her upstairs, sir,
+could you?"
+
+"Half-a-dozen of her weight," said Henry, laconically.
+
+"My pretty dear, my lamb," said Sal, pushing up the heavy hair. "She do
+look ill, don't she, sir?"
+
+"Very," said Henry, speaking as well as he could for the lump in his
+throat. "I am horrified at her. Let me take her upstairs. You had better
+put her straight to bed."
+
+He lifted the unconscious girl in his strong, tender arms, and carried
+her up, directed by Sally, into the little room which was her own.
+Reluctantly he laid her down on the bed, looking with pitiful love upon
+the whiteness of the thin sweet face. How much would he have given to
+kiss the pure line of the pathetic mouth! How far away out of his reach
+she seemed, this pale, hard-working girl whom other men passed unnoticed
+by. One cold hand he lifted to his lips, and held it there lingeringly a
+moment.
+
+"Now," said he to Sally, "I will go and fetch the doctor, if you will
+direct me. She must have every care, and at once."
+
+From leaving a message with the doctor, he went straight to his hotel.
+
+The sudden rush of events had somewhat confused him, and he could not
+tell what was best to be done. It seemed no use to go hunting for
+Osmond, when his sisters did not possess the slightest clue to his
+whereabouts. Yet he had an uneasy conviction that it might go badly with
+Wynifred if it could not be proved that her brother was alive and safe,
+and he would cut off his right hand to serve her.
+
+Oh reaching his sitting-room, the fragrance of a cigar assailed his
+senses, and, not much to his surprise, he discovered Claud, ensconced in
+a deep arm-chair near the fire.
+
+"Just thinking of going to the police-station after you," said the young
+gentleman, composedly. "Thought you were lost in London."
+
+Henry did not answer. Approaching the fire, he slowly divested himself
+of his heavy overcoat and gloves. Claud, flashing a look at him, caught
+the expression of his face.
+
+"You take it too seriously, Fowler," said he.
+
+"Oh, I take it too seriously, do I? You know all about it, of course.
+After the intimacy which existed between you and Miss Allonby in the
+summer--after the exceptional circumstances which brought you together,
+you would naturally take a great interest in her, and go to see her
+frequently; but I hardly think you would be likely to say I took matters
+too seriously."
+
+"Fowler! Miss Allonby!"
+
+The young man sat forward, thoroughly startled, his cigar expiring
+unheeded between his fingers.
+
+"What do you mean?" he asked, breathlessly.
+
+"Mean? That I am disappointed in you, Cranmer. Yes, disappointed. I
+don't care in the least if I offend you, sir--I have passed beyond
+conventionalities. You have missed what should have been your
+goal--missed it by aimless trifling, by this accursed modern habit of
+introspection, of tearing a passion to tatters, of holding off and
+counting the cost of what you want to do, till the moment to do it has
+gone by. Sir, there comes an instant to every man in his life, when the
+only clean and honorable course is to go straight forward, even if that
+be to incur responsibility--why, in Heaven's name, tell me, are we not
+born to be responsible? Isn't that the pride of our manhood? Do you call
+yourself a man, living as you live now, without aim, without cares,
+getting through your life anyhow? It is the life of a cur, I tell
+you--ignoble, unmanly, base."
+
+"I am prepared to stand a good deal from you, Fowler," said Claud, very
+white, "but I will ask you kindly to explain yourself more fully."
+
+"You understand me well enough, lad," said the elder man, with a stern
+straight glance which somehow sent a consciousness of shortcoming into
+his victim's mind; "but, as I have taken upon myself to open this
+subject, I'll say out frankly all that's in my mind. Do you suppose
+blind chance took you to Edge Combe this summer? Do you suppose a mere
+accident placed near you such a woman as--I speak her name with all
+reverence--Wynifred Allonby? Now listen to me. She was no pretty,
+shallow girl, to catch the eye of any idle young fellow. Hers was a
+charm that only a few could feel; and, Claud, _you felt it_. Don't deny
+it, sir. You knew what she was; you could appreciate to its utmost the
+beauty of her mind, and the strange charm of her personality. Do you
+suppose it is for nothing that God Almighty gives such sympathy as that?
+Now hear me further. She needed you, she was lonely, she was poor. She
+wanted a man to stand between her and the world, to afford her
+opportunity to unfold the hidden tenderness that was in her, and give
+her a chance to be the gentle loving woman God meant her for. Was not
+your mission plain? Yet you would not read it--and why? For reasons
+which were one and all contemptible. I say downright contemptible. She
+was not rich, she was not precisely in your rank of society. Your
+self-indulgent selfishness winced at the prospect of a life of work for
+her sake. So you put aside the chance of an undreamed-of happiness which
+lay there clear before your eyes. And I say you should be made to feel
+it. Strip off all your self-delusions, all your sophistry, and tell me
+what you think of yourself, Claud Cranmer. Are you proud of your
+insight? Do you congratulate yourself upon your prudence? Faith, it's a
+marvel to me how few men read the purpose of their being aright. Why do
+you suppose women were made weak, but for us to be their strength? What
+calls out the very highest points in a man's nature but a woman's need
+of him? I say there was not one grace of Wynifred's that escaped you,
+not a word she uttered that had not power to influence you; yet you
+deliberately resisted that influence and strove to forget those graces.
+You are despicable in my eyes."
+
+The room rang with his low, tense tones. Flinging himself into a chair,
+he shaded his eyes with his powerful, work-hardened hand, and a long
+silence reigned.
+
+Claud did not move. His face looked stony as he stared into the fire. In
+the main, every word that Fowler uttered had been true; for, though in
+the last few days the young man's love had taken definite shape, yet the
+old habits of ease and carelessness had still held him back. The sudden
+rush of rugged eloquence had been like a flash of lightning, shivering
+delusions to fragments, and laying bare before him the manner in which
+he had dallied with the high possibilities offered him.
+
+The moments ticked on, and still he sat, not uttering a word. The other
+did not move from his position. Nothing moved in the room but the even
+pendulum of the clock. At last Claud nerved himself to speak.
+
+"Is Miss Allonby in trouble?" he said, in a constrained way, stooping as
+if to recover his cigar, but in reality to conceal the flush which
+accompanied his words.
+
+"She is ill. I found her alone, in bitter grief. Her brother has
+disappeared--they do not know where he has gone. It is in consequence of
+Elsa's engagement. She--Miss Allonby, is utterly over-strained. She
+fainted whilst I was there, and I went to call the doctor. You have
+heard my denunciation. Now hear my determination. I am going to try for
+the treasure you have tossed on one side."
+
+Claud started violently, and raised his eyes to those of his companion
+in astonishment.
+
+"Yes, you may well be astonished. I know I have not a chance, but what
+difference does that make? I know that, but for one thing, it would be
+intolerable presumption in me to dream of it; but hear me. She is lonely
+and unprotected--yet, she has a brother, I know, but see--the brother
+has ends of his own, he is an anxiety, not a helper. She has need of
+some one to stand between her and the bitter necessities of life. The
+long struggle is wearing out her youth. If I could take her"--the voice
+vibrated with intense feeling--"and put her down in my Devonshire
+valley, with sunshine and sweet air, and every care that love could
+devise, what a heaven it would be to see the color come in her white
+cheeks, and the natural bent of girlhood return with the removal of
+unnatural responsibility." He made an expressive gesture with his hand.
+"Look at my niece, Elsa! She has more money than she can spend, she has
+beauty of the sort all men rave over, all her life she will have dozens
+of adorers, she will never be in want of loyal slaves to obey her
+lightest behests. And yet, with all her beauty and money, she is not
+worth the little finger of one of those three Allonby girls. As for
+Wynifred" ... he paused for a moment, and cleared his throat, "she will
+not have me," he said. "She is too absolutely conscientious to marry
+where she does not love; yet I hope it may comfort her--a little--to
+know that one man would--not metaphorically but literally--die for her,
+that to one man her womanhood is a nobility no title could give, and her
+happiness the most fervent desire of his heart."
+
+He ceased abruptly. The feelings of his large heart were too deep for
+utterance. Another eloquent silence succeeded. Claud's face was hidden
+in both his hands. When he raised it, it was white and fixed.
+
+"Fowler," he said, "I can't stand this."
+
+He sprang to his feet spasmodically, pushed his hand up through his
+hair, then, thrusting both hands deep into his pockets, walked quickly
+across the room and back.
+
+"I suppose you don't expect me to stand on one side and let you take my
+chance?" he asked, between his teeth.
+
+Henry rose too, and faced him.
+
+"I don't know," said he, speaking with slow scorn, "why I should have
+told you my intention, except for the purpose of showing you how another
+man could prize what you hold so lightly. I have no fear of wounding
+you; a love which can shilly-shally as you have done is not worth the
+having--is not capable of being hurt. Perhaps my reproaches have
+galvanized it into a sort of life; but it will die again when the
+friction ceases."
+
+"You are unjust to me now," said Claud, sharply. "What you said at first
+was mainly true. I did not at once realize how deep it had gone, and,
+when I did, I tried to stop it--to turn my thoughts. But all that is
+past--was past before you spoke. My deliberate intention is, and has
+been for a month past, to tell Miss Allonby what I feel for her."
+
+"Then why have you not carried out your intention?"
+
+The young man was silent for a moment; at last:
+
+"Love makes a man modest," he said. "I was not sure she would have me."
+
+"And pray what does that matter? Are you prepared to risk nothing to
+obtain her? Lad, you don't know what love is or you would lay yourself
+at your lady's feet and feel yourself the better man for doing it, even
+though she sent you empty away. With such a woman as Wynifred, you know
+full well you need fear the taking of no undue advantage. In my eyes you
+are without excuse."
+
+"At all events, I am not too far sunk not to resent your language,"
+retorted Claud, angrily. "Are you going to offer yourself to Miss
+Allonby in the midst of her domestic trouble?"
+
+"Yes, certainly. I am no fancy lover to sing madrigals in my lady's
+bower. If I have any merit in her eyes, it shall be as one ready to help
+her in her hour of need. I can at least say to her, 'Here am I, my
+house, my lands, my money, all to be spent in your service; use them
+all, for they are freely yours.'"
+
+"And I," faltered Claud, in an undertone, "can only say, 'I have no
+house, no lands, no money; all I can offer is myself, and that I
+withheld as long as I could.' I congratulate you, Fowler. You ought to
+win in a canter."
+
+Henry laughed somewhat bitterly.
+
+"Ought I? Perhaps, if Miss Allonby were likely to be swayed by such
+considerations. But she will marry for love, and only for love. Claud,
+what makes me rail against you so is that I believe she loves you. You
+don't deserve it, but I am afraid she does. And you--if you do not value
+it as you should----" he paused, for there was a knock at the door.
+"Come in," he said, irritably.
+
+A waiter brought in a telegram for Claud. Hastily scanning it the young
+man turned to his rival.
+
+"I am to bring you to dinner in Bruton Street," he said, after a pause.
+"I am afraid you must come. Percivale is to be there."
+
+"I will be ready in fifteen minutes," answered Henry; and he disappeared
+into the inner room.
+
+Claud stood gazing into the red embers in the grate with an awful
+sinking of the heart--a horrible depression he had never felt before.
+Now that he felt the possibility of losing Wynifred, he knew at last
+what his love was worth--knew that she was his life's one possibility of
+completion. Yet he had deserved to lose her.
+
+Resting his arms on the mantel-piece, he let his fair head fall
+disconsolately upon them.
+
+"My love, my dear," he whispered, "he is more worthy of you than I; and
+yet I believe that you belong to me--that I, with all my faults, could
+make you happier than he could. Choose me, Wynifred--my beloved, choose
+me!"
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XLVI.
+
+    To have her lion roll in a silken net,
+    And fawn at a victor's feet.
+
+    _Maud._
+
+
+The news from Mansfield Road next morning defeated for a time the
+designs of both the aspirants after Wynifred Allonby's hand.
+
+Ted Haldane had been able to bring a certain amount of comfort to Hilda
+and Jacqueline. He had been to Osmond's bankers, and found that the
+young man had that morning drawn out a considerable sum. This certainly
+seemed to negative any idea of suicidal intentions. But no further clue
+was forthcoming. The porter believed that Mr. Allonby, on leaving the
+bank, hailed a hansom and drove off; but even on this head he was by no
+means sure.
+
+It was the opinion, however, both of Henry Fowler and Mr. Haldane that
+Osmond would himself send news of his present whereabouts in a few days'
+time, when he had cooled down somewhat. But Wynifred was unable to
+derive comfort from the news, such as it was, for when she recovered
+from her long fainting-fit she was quite delirious. For the next few
+days the two poor girls had a time of terrible anxiety. The third
+morning brought a brief, reckless note from Osmond in Paris. It was
+merely to let them know that he was alive. He could not say when he was
+likely to return, or what he should do. He gave no address.
+
+No words could express the comfort which Mr. Fowler was able to afford
+the desolate girls. He saw that Wynifred had the best advice in London,
+and everything that money could procure; and when, in a week's time, the
+doctors were able to declare with confidence that the dreaded
+brain-fever had been averted, it was hard to tell who most rejoiced in
+the fact.
+
+Meantime, the engagement of Elsa to Mr. Percivale was publicly
+announced. The marriage was to take place immediately after Easter, and,
+as the young lady totally declined to be married in Devonshire, two of
+the Misses Willoughby were coming to town almost immediately to take a
+furnished house for a couple of months. After all, it was but natural
+that the girl should shrink from a place which had such terrible
+associations for her.
+
+Percivale sympathised entirely with her in this matter, as in
+everything. It was extraordinary for outsiders to watch the utter
+subjugation of his strong nature by the power of his love. Only one
+thing did certainly trouble him. His betrothed could not bear the quaint
+old dark house overlooking the river. It was exactly suited to the
+disposition of the young man who, as Claud said, always seemed to be
+trying to escape from his own century, somehow. He had improved the
+house, spent large sums of money upon it, and it was, indeed, the one
+spot in the modern roar of London wherein he felt entirely at home. His
+life of seclusion had, of course, rendered him shy. Going much into
+society was a trouble to him. But who wanted to find Elsa must needs go
+into society to seek her, and he thought she more than repaid the
+effort. Of course, if she found the house dull, it must be sold; but he
+had persuaded her graciously to consent to live in it for a few months
+first, just to try. Immediately on their marriage, he was going to take
+her to Schwannberg, that she might see the bursting of the glorious
+South German spring; but here again occurred a slight difference between
+them. He would have liked to linger, but this did not suit his bride.
+It would be dreadful, she urged, to waste these precious months cooped
+up in such a remote corner of the world. She must be in town by the
+middle of May, to have her first taste of a London season.
+
+This was a definite trial to Leon; but all his tastes were gradually
+undergoing such a complete revolution that he was willing on all
+occasions to think himself in the wrong. When first Elsa had fixedly
+declared that a month was the longest honeymoon she would suffer, the
+idea had greatly ruffled him. They had parted in much offence on the
+lady's part, and some unhappiness on the gentleman's.
+
+Next day he presented himself with a mixture of feelings at Burton
+Street. Fate was propitious. Lady Mabel was out at a calisthenic class
+with her children and the governess. Elsa was alone in the boudoir,
+attired in a tea-gown of delicate silk, and seated near the fire with a
+little sick terrier of his which she had undertaken to doctor. At her
+lover's entrance she half looked up, then turned slowly away and devoted
+her attention to the dog. Percivale stood in the doorway, his hand on
+the lock, his fine head thrown back.
+
+"May I come in?" he asked.
+
+"Pray do," said a small and frigid voice.
+
+He closed the door and came forward, his daily offering of flowers in
+his hand. Pausing before her--
+
+"Are you angry with me, Elsa?" he asked, miserably.
+
+"I thought _you_ were angry with _me_," she said, in low and injured
+tones.
+
+"My darling, no." He knelt down beside her. "Only I was a little
+disappointed to think--to think that you would not be happy alone with
+me----"
+
+She shot a shy glance at him from beneath her heavy lashes.
+
+"I do not know you very well yet," said she softly.
+
+"Are you afraid of me, Elsa?"
+
+A suggestive pause, during which he hung breathless on every change
+which swept over the lovely face.
+
+"I do not quite understand you," faltered she at last.
+
+"I only plead to be allowed to explain myself," he murmured. "What is
+it, love? I am so unused to women, you must be good to me, and help me,
+and forgive me if I am not gentle enough. What is it you do not
+understand?"
+
+"Is our honeymoon only to last as long as our wedding journey?" slowly
+asked the girl. "Will you not love me as well in London as in Tyrol?
+Will you change when that little month is over? For me, I shall love you
+as dearly, wherever we are."
+
+"My beloved!" he flung his arm about her in a rapture; for Miss
+Brabourne, as a rule, was very wisely sparing of her professions of
+attachment. "You are right--I was wrong. Our honeymoon will last for
+ever--what matters where we spend it?"
+
+"That was what I thought--no, Leon, you must not kiss me again--once is
+quite enough. Be good and listen to me while I talk to you a little."
+
+She passed her arm round his neck as he knelt, and, with her other hand,
+pushed up the soft curling rings of his bright hair. He closed his eyes
+with rapture as he felt the touch.
+
+"You say," said Elsa, stroking softly, "that you do not care for
+society, that you dislike London in the season."
+
+"And that is true, my own----"
+
+"Now, how do you know? Have you tried society?"
+
+"No, never. I have always avoided it!"
+
+"And how many seasons have you been through?"
+
+"Not one."
+
+"There, you see! Now, Leon, look at me!" Daintily placing a finger
+beneath his chin, she turned his face up to hers. "Is it fair to say you
+dislike a thing you have never tried? How can you tell beforehand? Is it
+not, perhaps, a little wee bit selfish of you?"
+
+"Yes, it is," promptly replied he. "I am a brute, my darling."
+
+"No, but you had not thought. I think, perhaps, if I--if I had a wife;
+and if I were foolish enough to be very proud of her, as you are of poor
+little me, that I should be pleased for people to see her, and to see
+how happy I made her--and to let all the world know that I loved her
+so--and--and--oh, Leon, you are laughing at me," and, with a burst of
+childish merriment, she hid her face in his neck.
+
+"Elsa," cried her lover, as soon as he could speak coherently, "my life,
+do as you like, go where you will--if you please yourself you please me!
+I live to make your happiness, mind that!"
+
+This was merely a specimen of the way in which Elsa carried her points.
+Percivale was a mere child in her hands; she had a knack of making
+others feel themselves in the wrong, which was little short of genius.
+
+Her presentation was a triumph. London was unanimous in pronouncing her
+undeniably the beauty of the year; and her engagement to the mysterious
+Percivale, as well as the romantic story of their first meeting,
+surrounded them both with a perfect blaze of interest. Nothing else was
+talked of. The marriage would be the event of the season. The world was
+more than ever anxious to know more of the owner of the _Swan_.
+
+"Miss Brabourne has never asked you anything about your belongings, has
+she?" asked Claud one day of Percivale.
+
+"Never. She has not alluded to the subject."
+
+"Take my advice," said Claud, "and don't volunteer that information
+which you mentioned to me."
+
+"Oh, I must. I shall tell her everything when we are married. I have all
+along determined on that."
+
+"People are so busy with your name, that it occurs to me that you are
+saddling a young girl with a great responsibility in giving her such a
+secret to keep."
+
+Percivale smiled.
+
+"Cranmer, are you in love?" he asked.
+
+"Yes, I am. Why?" said Claud, bluntly.
+
+The other looked surprised.
+
+"Well," he said, "you have not honored me with your confidence; and it
+is quite new to me to hear that you are; but to the point. Would you not
+trust the woman of your choice with any secret?"
+
+Claud hesitated a moment.
+
+"Well, to be honest," said he at last, "yes. I certainly should."
+
+"Should you not think it an insult to her to hold her debarred from the
+innermost recesses of your mind?"
+
+"Undoubtedly I should."
+
+"Well! Do you expect me to feel differently?"
+
+Claud had no more to say. His own state of mind in these days was one of
+deep depression.
+
+Henry Fowler had been obliged to leave town directly. Wynifred was
+announced to be convalescent; and, two days after his departure, Miss
+Ellen Willoughby had written to ask Hilda to bring her sister down to
+Edge Willoughby as soon as ever she was strong enough to travel, there
+to remain as long as she pleased, and grow strong in the soft sea air.
+
+Claud's only comfort was in calling every day at Mansfield Road for
+news, and now and then leaving a basket of grapes or some flowers from
+his sister; but he could never gain admittance to see Wynifred, though
+his face, as he once or twice made a faltering petition, went to Hilda's
+heart. His suspense was costing him a great deal, as was manifest from
+his countenance of settled gloom, his pale face, and the purple marks
+under his eyes.
+
+Lady Mabel received a shock one day.
+
+"Claud," said she, "I have been most astonished. Lady Alice Alison has
+been calling, and she tells me that the youngest Miss Allonby is going
+to marry one of the Haldanes of Eldersmain. I suppose I shall have to
+call; and she tells me also that their father was a colonel, and a
+nephew of Lord Dovedale. It is rather annoying; we ought to have known
+that before."
+
+"Why?" asked Claud, aggressively.
+
+"Why? Because I ought to have been told--I should have shown them more
+civility."
+
+"Why, what do you know of the Dovedales?"
+
+"Nothing, personally; but they are in society."
+
+"Well? Are not the Allonbys in society?"
+
+"Claud, how idiotic you can be when you like."
+
+"It is a matter of necessity, not choice, my sister. My brain never did
+work as fast as yours. But the speed of yours is abnormal. However, I
+should not lay myself open to a snub by calling in Mansfield Road now."
+
+"Why?"
+
+"Because, if they have any pride, and I fancy they have a good deal,
+they will not return your call."
+
+"Claud! Not return my call?"
+
+"I think not. They are very stiff with me."
+
+"That is just because I have not called."
+
+"And now you are ready to do so on the strength of their great-uncle
+having been in 'Debrett,' Mab. I thought you were beyond that sort of
+thing."
+
+"If it is being in love that makes you so unpleasant, my good boy, I do
+hope you will soon get over it."
+
+"Get over it. You talk as if it was measles. Does one get over these
+things? But, if you find my company irksome, I can go to Portland Place,
+you know."
+
+"Don't be offended; only you have been so terribly in the dumps lately.
+Why don't you propose, and have done with it?"
+
+"I am waiting for leave," said Claud, with a laugh which ended in a
+sigh, as he hurriedly left the room.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XLVII.
+
+    A man may love a woman perfectly,
+    And yet by no means ignorantly maintain
+    A thousand women have not larger eyes;
+    Enough that she alone has looked at him
+    With eyes that, large or small, have won his soul.
+
+    _Aurora Leigh._
+
+
+Elsa Brabourne had been transformed into Elsa Percivale with the
+assistance of two bishops and a dean. Drawings of her _trousseau_ and of
+her bridesmaids' dresses had appeared in the ladies' newspapers. Her
+aunts had given a reception to about a hundred people of whom they had
+never heard before, and who, in return, had presented the bride with
+much costly rubbish which she did not want; and at last Leon had carried
+off his wife, in an ultra-fashionable tailor-made travelling dress, to
+Folkestone _en route_ for the Continent and Schwannberg.
+
+Claud Cranmer had officiated, somewhat gloomily as best man at this
+wedding, the courtship of which had been so romantic, the realization so
+entirely Philistine.
+
+All the technicality and elaboration of this modern London ceremony had
+been most trying to Percivale, who, as has been said, hated coming
+before the public as a central figure; and, at this particular marriage,
+the mysterious bridegroom had, contrary to custom, attracted quite as
+much notice as the lovely bride.
+
+The young man was beginning dimly to realize that Claud had spoken truly
+when he said that life now-a-days could be neither a dream nor an ideal.
+There seemed so much that was commonplace and technical to take the
+bloom off his romance. He literally panted for his Bavarian home--for
+foaming river, wide lake, rugged steep, glittering horizon of
+snow-peaked Alps in which to realize the happiness that he so fervently
+anticipated. As to Elsa's mental state on her wedding-day, it must be
+owned that, when the excitement was over--when the admiring crowds were
+left behind, and she found herself alone with her husband, she was a
+good deal frightened. She did not understand him in the least. Her
+nature was so utterly devoid of the least spark of romance or sentiment
+that she could not interpret his thoughts or his desires. There was a
+still firmness about him which awed her. Docile as he was, subjugated as
+he was, there yet had been times during their short engagement when she
+experienced great uneasiness. Chief of these was the evening when he
+heard of Osmond Allonby's disappearance. There had been something then
+in the low, repressed intensity of his manner which had made her quail.
+
+True, she had been able to change his mood in a moment. A couple of her
+easily-shed tears, lying on her eye-lashes, had brought him to his knees
+in an agony of repentance. But still there remained always in her mind a
+kind of rankling conviction that her lover expected of her something
+which she could not give, because she did not know what it was. When
+Percivale gave rein to the poetic side of his nature, and talked of
+sympathies, of high aims, of beauty in one's daily life, he spoke to
+deaf ears. Vaguely she comforted herself with the reflection that this
+would last only for a little while. Men had a way of talking like that
+when they were in love; but, while it lasted, it give her a feeling of
+discomfort. She could never be at her ease whilst she was in a state of
+such uncertainty; for uncertainty begets fear.
+
+Her depression was increased by the serious words which her godfather
+had spoken to her on her wedding-morning. She hated to be spoken to
+seriously. It was like being scolded--it carried her back to the unloved
+memories of her dull childhood. Why could he not have given her her gold
+necklace with a gay declaration that most jewels adorned a white neck,
+but that in her case the neck would adorn the jewel--or some other such
+speech--the kind to which her ears were now daily accustomed.
+
+Why did he think it necessary to entreat her never to allow her husband
+to be disappointed in her? Was it likely that any man could ever be
+disappointed in her? It seemed more probable that she might one day come
+to feel bored by him, handsome and eligible though he was.
+
+Somehow, being engaged to him had not quite fulfilled her expectations.
+More than once she had felt--not exactly consciously, but none the less
+really--that she was more in touch with Captain St. Quentin, or others
+of the well-born ordinary young men of the day who formed her set, than
+with the idealist Leon. He was a creature from another sphere, his
+thoughts and aims were different, she knew; and, as her own inclinations
+became daily more clearly defined, she could not help feeling that they
+grew daily more unlike his.
+
+"But she is so young, he will be able to mould her," said Claud,
+hopefully to himself. He guessed, more clearly than any one else, that
+Percivale was mismated; and foresaw with a dim foreboding that a bad
+time was in store for him when he should discover the fact; but, on his
+friend's wedding-day, he would not be a skeleton at the feast. He was
+willing to hope for the best.
+
+Slowly he turned from the shoe-flinging and rice-scattering which formed
+the tag-end of the wedding. Leon's face haunted him. The expression of
+it, as he spoke the oath which bound him to Elaine, had been so intense,
+so holy in the purity of its chivalrous devotion, that it had awed and
+impressed even the crowd of frivolous triflers who lounged and chatted
+in the church, whispering scandal, and criticizing each other's
+appearance as others like them did at Romney Leigh's wedding. There was
+in fact something about this day which recalled the poem forcibly to
+Claud's mind: not, of course, the ghastly _denouement_, but the
+character of the man, the same loftiness of aim, the same terrible
+earnestness in its view of life.
+
+Something, too, about his friend's farewell had struck him with a
+sadness for which he could scarcely account.
+
+A little, trifling slip of Percivale's tongue, dwelt in his memory in a
+manner altogether disproportionate. In the hurry and bustle of the
+departure, as he grasped Claud's hand, instead of saying, "Good-bye," as
+he meant to, Leon had said, "Good-night."
+
+He was unconscious of it himself, and in an absent way he had repeated
+it, in that still voice which always seemed to convey so much meaning.
+
+"Good-night, Claud, good-night."
+
+Now that he was gone, the words rang in Cranmer's ears, as Romney's
+words lingered in Aurora's. As he turned back into the house and slowly
+went upstairs, he was repeating softly to himself the line,
+
+    "And all night long I thought _Good-night_," said he.
+
+Walking into the drawing-room with its showy display of wedding-gifts,
+its fading flowers and vacant, desolate aspect, he was confronted by
+Henry Fowler.
+
+They had hardly spoken before, as Henry had only arrived in town late
+the preceding night. Now they stood face to face, and the elder man was
+painfully struck by the haggard aspect of the younger.
+
+Wynifred Allonby had now been for some weeks at Edge Willoughby, and his
+only way of hearing of her was from the two Misses Willoughby who were
+in town, for the little house in Mansfield Road was shut up. Hilda was
+with her sister in Devonshire, Jacqueline staying with her future
+relations, Osmond still in Paris, his address unknown, his letters few
+and unsatisfactory.
+
+"Well?" said Mr. Fowler, interrogatively.
+
+"Well," said Claud, defiantly, "I am glad to have the chance of speaking
+to you, Fowler. I will begin with putting a straight question. Are you
+engaged to--to Miss Allonby?"
+
+"No, lad; that question is soon answered. She will not see me."
+
+"Well, then, I give you fair warning, I am coming down to the Combe. I
+can bear this suspense no longer."
+
+"Come as soon as you will, and stay as long as you can; but she will not
+see you. She will see nobody. She seems well, they say; her strength is
+coming back, she can walk, and eats pretty well; but she is sadly
+changed, her pretty sister tells me. She does not seem to care to talk.
+She will sit silent for hours, and they are afraid she does not sleep.
+She will go nowhere and speak to no one. If you call upon her, she will
+decline to see you."
+
+"I shall not give her the chance to decline or to consent. I shall
+insist upon seeing her," said Claud, calmly. "Fowler, some words you
+said to me that night at the Langham have been with me ever since:
+'There comes a time to every man when the only clean and honorable
+course is to go straight forward.' I have passed beyond that. For me
+now, the only _possible_ course is to go straight forward. I _will_ see
+and speak to her, if only to ask a forgiveness from her. I have piled on
+the sack-cloth and ashes this Lent, Fowler. I have found out at last
+what I really am; and for a time the knowledge simply crushed me. But
+now I am beginning to struggle up. I have grown to believe in the truth
+of the saying that men may rise on stepping-stones of their dead selves
+to higher things. If--if I could have _her_ for my own, I honestly think
+I might yet be a useful man. Now you know my intentions, sir, as well as
+I know them myself. You can't be mad enough to ask such a declared rival
+down to stay with you."
+
+"Mad or sane, I must have you to stay with me. Can you start to-morrow?"
+
+"With the best heart in the world; but, Fowler, I don't understand you."
+
+"See here, lad. I trust Miss Allonby entirely. She will not have you if
+she does not love you; and if she does love you, I am willing she should
+have you, for my life's aim is her happiness, whether she find it in me
+or in another man. Ah! you are young; no wonder you think me mad. Time
+was when I should have felt, as you do now, that the thing was a blind
+necessity, that either she and I must come together, or the world must
+end for me. In those days there was a woman,"--he halted a moment, then
+went on serenely, "there was a woman made for me. I was the only man to
+make her happy; but she chose another. It was then I knew what
+desolation meant. Now I can feel tenderness but not passion. I can wish
+for Wynifred's happiness more fervently than I desire my own; I do not
+feel, as you feel, that her happiness and mine are one and the self-same
+thing. Yours is the love that should overcome, I am sure of that, now.
+It is the love that will tear down barriers and uproot obstructions; the
+only love a man should dare to lay at the feet of a woman like Wynifred
+Allonby."
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XLVIII.
+
+    Write woman's verses, and dream woman's dreams:
+    But let me feel your perfume in my home,
+    To make my sabbath after working-days.
+    Bloom out your youth beside me,--be my wife.
+
+    _Aurora Leigh._
+
+
+Wynifred stood idly at the window.
+
+It was a lovely day--one of those real spring days which we in England
+so rarely enjoy--perhaps one, perhaps half-a-dozen in the whole year. A
+brief interlude in the east wind's unfailing rigor; a breathing time
+when the black shadows leave the land and color begins to dawn over
+copse and meadow. The sea-ward slopes of the valley were beginning to
+grow green. The borders of the garden were purple and gold with
+crocuses, and sweet with violets.
+
+Hilda had yesterday brought in a sumptuous handful of Lent lilies from
+the woods, lighting up the room like a flash of condensed sunlight.
+There were countless ripples on the sea, a breath of life and spring in
+the warm air. The birds were twittering and building, and the long
+hazel-blooms fell in pale gold and crimson tassels on the pathway. Miss
+Ellen lay on her sofa, anxiously watching the silent pale girl at the
+window.
+
+They were alone. Hilda was out riding with Henry Fowler.
+
+Miss Ellen had been watching the clock, wondering how long Wynifred
+would remain speechless and in the same position if left to herself.
+When the silence had lasted more than fifty minutes, she felt it
+unbearable.
+
+"Wynifred, my dear, a penny for your thoughts," said she.
+
+Wyn started violently, and faced slowly round. Her eyes wore a dull
+look, as if she was not quite fully awake.
+
+"I don't think I was thinking of anything in particular," said she,
+sitting down listlessly and taking up her work, which lay on a table
+near. Miss Ellen watched her keenly, as she turned the embroidery this
+way and that, smoothed it with her hand, threaded a needle with silk as
+if she felt that some pretence of employment was necessary, but, after
+five minutes' spasmodic working, let it drop idly in her lap, leaned
+back in her chair, and again became apathetic.
+
+It was disheartening indeed to watch her.
+
+Miss Ellen recalled the energetic, slender Wynifred of last summer, with
+her eager, vivid interest in everything, her ready tongue, her gay
+laugh, her quick fingers.
+
+How could the girl tell at what precise amount of work she would have to
+stop short? How should she recognise the signs of overfatigue? To spur
+herself on had been her only care,--to check her cravings for rest and
+leisure, as something to be crushed down and despised.
+
+Now she was like a clock with damaged works. If you shook her, she would
+go fitfully for a few minutes, and then relapse into her former
+lethargy.
+
+Of course, the completeness of her breakdown had been greatly aggravated
+by her own private unhappiness, and by the terrible trouble of her
+brother's total inability to stand up against his reverse of fortune. It
+seemed as if the consciousness of Osmond's utter weakness had sapped all
+her strength, had struck away her last prop. From such a depth of
+sickness and depression, she would, naturally take some time to
+re-ascend. Miss Ellen comforted herself with the thought that her cure
+must be gradual, but she could not feel that it had yet so much as
+begun.
+
+Wynifred could not be made to talk on any subject except the sun, the
+flowers, the chough, the villagers, or some such indifferent theme. To
+talk about books made her head ache, she said, and she never put pen to
+paper. Hilda had now and then tried her, by casually leaving writing
+materials about in the room where she sat; but, alone or in company, she
+never touched them.
+
+She spoke of no one and asked after no one but Osmond, and of him she
+would now and then speak, though never mentioning Elsa, or anyone else
+connected with the episodes preceding her illness.
+
+Miss Ellen watched her daily with a tenderness and penetration which
+were touching to behold. The whole of her gentle heart went out to the
+girl, the deepest depth of whose malady she hardly guessed. She had an
+idea that what was wanted was the sight of some thing or person vividly
+recalling the trouble, whatever it was, which had made such an
+impression. She believed that a moment of excitement, even if painful,
+would break up the dull crust of indifference, and bring relief, even if
+it should flow in tears. But she had not clue enough to go upon in order
+to bring such a thing about; and Hilda was profoundly ignorant of her
+sister's secretly-cherished love-affair.
+
+"Wynifred," said Miss Ellen.
+
+The girl looked up quickly.
+
+"It is such a lovely day, dear; why don't you go for a walk?"
+
+"I did not like to leave you, Miss Willoughby; not that I am very
+enlivening company."
+
+"You will be much more enlivening if you can bring me news of the
+primroses beginning to bloom in the woods. Get your hat and be off,
+bring back a pair of pink cheeks and an appetite, or you won't be
+admitted."
+
+Wynifred rose slowly and folded her work. Painfully Miss Ellen recalled
+words that Henry Fowler had spoken last year as he watched the blithe
+young company out at tea on the terrace:--Elsa, the Allonbys, young
+Haldane, and Claud Cranmer.
+
+"How those Allonby girls do enjoy themselves!" he had said.
+
+Their enjoyment was infectious, it was so spontaneous, so fresh. The
+change was acute.
+
+"What is to be done with her?" pondered Miss Willoughby, as the girl
+went out, apathetically closing the door behind her.
+
+Hardly knowing why, Wynifred chose the road that led inland, along the
+further side of the valley, to Poole Farm.
+
+Had Miss Ellen only known how inwardly active was the mind that
+outwardly seemed almost dormant! All yesterday the bells had been
+clashing from the little church in honor of Elsa's wedding. In fancy the
+girl had gone through the whole ceremony--had seen Claud attending his
+friend Percivale to church, in his capacity of best man. To-day it
+seemed as if the bells were still ringing, ringing on in her head until
+she felt dizzy and unnerved.
+
+Why could she not expel unwelcome thoughts and order herself back to
+work, as heretofore? No use. She had taxed her self-control once too
+often, and stretched it too far. It had snapped. There was no power in
+her.
+
+"There was a time," she thought, "when I could have saved myself. At the
+Miles' ball I was comparatively free--I could take an intelligent
+interest in other things. Why--oh, _why_ was he sent there to force me
+to begin all over again?"
+
+Lost in reverie, she wandered on until she found herself opposite the
+spot where Saul Parker had attacked Osmond.
+
+There was a fallen tree lying on the grass at the other side of the
+lane, and, overcome with many memories, she sat down upon it. Here it
+was that she and Claud had exchanged their first flash of sympathy, when
+strolling back to Poole together in the summer twilight. Closing her
+eyes, she rested her brow on her two hands, as she lived again through
+the experiences of those days.
+
+What was this strange weight which seemed to make her unable to rise, or
+to think, or to cast off her abiding depression? Had there really been a
+time when she, Wynifred, had possessed a mind stored with graceful
+fancies, and a pen to give them to the world?
+
+That was over for ever now. Her literary career was stopped, she told
+herself in her despair; and when her money came to an end she must
+starve, for her capacity for work was gone. Yet all around her was the
+subtle air of spring, instinct with that vague, indescribable hope and
+desire which sometimes shakes our very being for five minutes or so,
+suddenly, on an April day, however prosaic and middle-aged we may be.
+She did not weep, her trouble was too dull, too chronic for tears.
+
+She sat on, idly gazing at the farm-house windows and at the flight of
+the building rooks about the tall elms, till a footstep close beside her
+made her turn her head; and Claud Cranmer stood in the lane, not ten
+paces from her, his hat in his hand, his eyes fixed on her face.
+
+For a moment his figure and the landscape surrounding it swam before her
+eyes, and then, in a flash, the woman's dignity and pride sprang up anew
+in her heart and she was ready to meet him. All the feeling, the force
+of being which, since her illness, had been in abeyance, started up
+full-grown in a moment at sight of him. She knew she was alive, for she
+knew that she suffered--as poignantly, as really as ever; and for the
+moment she almost hailed the pain with rapture, because it was a sign of
+life.
+
+She must take his outstretched hand, she must control her voice to
+speak to him. She was childishly pleased to find that her strength rose
+with her need--that she could do both quite rationally. She did not rise
+from her log. As soon as Claud saw that she was conscious of his
+presence, he came up to her with hand extended, and, in another moment,
+hers was resting in his hungry clasp.
+
+He was more unnerved than she. His heart seemed beating in his throat,
+his love and tenderness and shame were all struggling together, so that
+for a few minutes, he was dumb; the sight of her had been so
+overpowering.
+
+They had told him not to be shocked--to expect to find her greatly
+altered; but they had not calculated on the instantaneous effect of his
+appearance on her. Thin indeed she was--almost wasted--her eyes
+unnaturally large and hollow. But the expression was as vivid, as
+fascinating as ever, the color burnt in her cheeks--it was merely an
+ethereal version of his own Wynifred, inspiring him with an idea of
+fragility which made him wild with pity.
+
+She spoke first--her own voice, so unlike that of any other woman he had
+ever known.
+
+"I did not expect to see you," she said. "Are you staying with Mr.
+Fowler?"
+
+"No. I came down yesterday."
+
+Her hand, which seemed so small--like nothing, as it lay in his own--was
+gently withdrawn.
+
+"You have brought spring weather with you," said she, quietly.
+
+"It is beautiful to-day," he answered, neither knowing nor caring what
+he said. "May I sit down and talk a--a little? It is--it is--a long time
+since I saw you last."
+
+He seated himself beside her on the log, hoping that the beating of his
+heart was not loud enough for her to overhear. He could hardly realize
+that he had accomplished so much--that they were seated, at last,
+together, "With never a third, but each by each as each knew well,"--and
+with a future made up of a few moments--a present so intensified that it
+blotted out all past experience; a kind of foretaste of the "everlasting
+minute" of immortality, such as is now and then granted to the
+time-encumbered soul.
+
+Whether the pause, the hush which was the prelude to the drama, lasted
+one moment or ten he could not say. He was conscious, presently, of an
+uneasy stirring of the girl at his side.
+
+"I think I ought to be walking home," said she.
+
+"Not yet; I have not half enjoyed the view," said he, decidedly.
+
+"Oh, please do not disturb yourself," she faltered, breathlessly, as she
+made a movement to rise, "I can go home alone--I would rather----"
+
+"So you told me the last time we parted, and, like a fool and a coward,
+I let you go. I am wiser now. You must stay."
+
+She had lifted up her gloves to put them on. Taking her hands in his, he
+gently pulled away the gloves, and obliged her to resume her seat. She
+began to tremble.
+
+"Mr. Cranmer--you must let me go. I--am not strong yet--I cannot bear
+it. Oh, please go and leave me. I cannot talk to you."
+
+The words were wrung from her. Feebly she strove to draw her hands out
+of his warm clasp, but he held them firmly.
+
+"The reason I followed you here was because they told me you would
+refuse to see me if you could," he said calmly. He had regained his
+composure now, and his quiet manner soothed her. "I was quite determined
+to see you. I came down to Edge for that reason alone. It is merely a
+question of time. If you will not listen to me to-day, you must
+to-morrow. I have something which I _will_ say to you. Choose when you
+will hear it."
+
+"Is it--is it about Osmond?" she said, feverishly.
+
+"About Osmond? No, it has nothing to do with him," said Claud, rather
+resentfully. "It is only about me."
+
+She was silent for a long moment, gazing straight before her with a
+strange, wild excitement growing in her heart. At last, with one final
+effort at self-mastery, she deliberately lifted her eyes to his. "About
+you?" she said faintly.
+
+"About you and me," he answered.
+
+She made an ineffectual struggle, half-rose, looked this way and that,
+as if for flight, then sank back again into her place, in absolute
+surrender.
+
+"Say it," she whispered, almost inaudibly.
+
+"Wynifred," he said, his voice taking from his emotion a thrill which
+she felt in the innermost recesses of her heart. "I have a confession
+to make to you--a confession of fraud. Pity me. Perhaps the confession
+will deprive me of your friendship for ever; but I must speak. There is
+something in my possession which belongs to you--it has been yours for
+nearly a year. You ought to have had it long ago. I have kept it back
+from you all these months. Do you think you can forgive me?"
+
+She gazed at him uncomprehending.
+
+"Something of mine? A letter?" said she.
+
+"No, not a letter." It was exquisite, this interview; he could have
+prayed to prolong it for weeks. He held her attention now, as well as
+her hands; he felt inclined to be deliberate. "It is worth nothing, or
+very little, this thing in question," he went on. "You may not care for
+it--you may utterly decline to have it--you may tell me that it is
+worthless in your eyes, and throw it back to me in scorn. But, since it
+is yours, I feel that I must just lay it before you, to take or leave.
+It has been yours for so long, that I think that very fact has made it
+rather less good-for-nothing, and, Wynifred, it has in it the capacity
+for growth. If you would take it and keep it, there is no telling what
+you might make of it."
+
+"I do not understand," cried Wynifred.
+
+"You do not understand why your own was not given to you before?" he
+asked, softly. "That is the shameful part of the story. I kept it back
+only for mean and contemptible reasons; because I was afraid to give it
+absolutely into your keeping, not knowing certainly whether you would
+care to have it. But I have been shown that this was not honest. Whether
+you will have it or not, my dearest, I must show my heart to you, I must
+implore you to take it, to forgive its imperfections, to count as its
+one merit that it is all your own. It is myself, my beloved, who am at
+your feet. My life, my hopes, my love, are all yours, and have been for
+so long.... Can you forget that I withheld them when they were not mine
+to keep? Can you forgive that they are so poor, so imperfect, so
+unworthy?"
+
+She had given a little cry when first the meaning of his riddle became
+apparent to her, and, snatching away one hand, had covered her face with
+it.
+
+All the Irish fervor and poetry of Claud's nature was kindled. He was no
+backward lover,--the words rushed to his lips, he knew not how.
+
+Determinedly he put his arm round his love as she sat, speaking with his
+lips close to her ear.
+
+"Wyn," he said, with that sweetness of voice and manner which had first
+won her heart. "Wyn, I'll give you no option. You are mine; you know it.
+I deserve punishment; but don't punish me, dear, for I tell you you
+can't be happy without me, any more than I without you. Is that
+presumption? I think not,--I believe it's insight. There are times, you
+know, when one seems to push away all the manners and customs of the
+day, and my heart just cries out to yours that we are made for one
+another. My own, just look at me a minute, and tell me if that isn't
+so."
+
+Drawing her closer to him, he gently pulled away her hand from her eyes
+and made her look at him.
+
+"Is it true? Dare you contradict me, sweetheart?" he said, tenderly.
+"Don't you belong to me?"
+
+The authoress could find no eloquent reply. No words would obey the
+bidding of her feelings. With her head at rest at last on her lover's
+heart, like the veriest bread-and-butter miss, she could only murmur a
+bald, bare, "Yes,--I--I think so."
+
+"You think so, do you, my love?" he said, ecstatically. "Tell me what
+makes you think so, then, sweet?"
+
+She closed her eyes, and, lifting her arm, she laid it round his neck
+with a sigh of bliss.
+
+"I--can't," said she, weakly.
+
+It sounds very inadequate, but the fact remains that this entire want of
+vocabulary in the usually self-possessed and ready Wynifred was the
+highest possible charm in the eyes of her lover. To his unutterable
+delight, he found that his very loftiest dream was realised. He himself
+was the great want of the girl's life. He comforted her. She was able at
+once to let go the burden of care and sorrow she had borne so long, and
+to rest herself utterly in his love. The expression on her white face
+was that of perfect rest. Her soul had found its true goal. Claud and
+she were in the centre of the labyrinth at last. Above them on the
+hillside stood the grey farm, still and lonely in the sunlight as it had
+stood for more than three centuries. Never had it looked on purer
+happiness than that of these two obscure and poorly-endowed mortals who
+yet felt themselves rich indeed in the consciousness of mutual sympathy.
+
+The air was musical with streams, the stir of spring mixed subtly with
+their joy. This betrothal needed no pomp of circumstance to enhance its
+perfection. To Claud and Wynifred to be together was to be blessed.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XLIX.
+
+    To marriage all the stories flow
+            And finish there.
+
+    _The Letter L._
+
+
+It was sunset when at last they rose from the fallen log. To Wynifred it
+was as though every cloud of trouble had melted away out of her sky.
+Grief was grief no longer when shared with Claud. His sympathy was so
+perfect and so tender. It seemed to both of them as if their betrothal
+were no new thing, as if, in some prior state of being, they had been,
+as he expressed it, _made to fit each other_.
+
+"Vaguely, I believe I always felt it," he said. "I was always at ease
+with you. You suited me. I felt you understood me; at times it almost
+seemed as if you must be thinking with my brain, so wonderfully similar
+were the workings of our minds. Wyn, we can never be unhappy, you and I,
+whatever our lot. We are independent of fate so long as we have each
+other. I wonder how many engaged couples arrive deliberately at that
+conclusion?"
+
+"I did not think you would ever arrive at it," said Wyn, smiling. "I
+thought you were a Sybarite, Claud."
+
+"You thought right--I was. But by habit, not by nature. It was Henry
+Fowler who awoke me to a sense of my own contemptibility. God bless
+him."
+
+"God bless him," echoed the girl, softly.
+
+"Look!" cried Claud, "how the sun catches the windows of the farm-house,
+and makes them flame. So they looked the first evening I ever saw
+them--before I knew you, my darling. Shall we go and tell Mrs.
+Battishill that we mean to get married? She will be so pleased."
+
+"Ah, yes, do. I had no heart to go and see her, the place was so full of
+memories of you. But now!"
+
+It was quite dark when Henry, who had been smoking at the open door of
+Lower House, heard Claud's quick footfall cross the bridge.
+
+"Well, lad," said he, as the young man came buoyantly towards him, "I'm
+to congratulate you, I know. There's triumph in your very step."
+
+"I'm about as happy as it's possible for a man to be," said Claud
+simply, as he gave him his hand. "I believe I should be too happy if it
+were not for the thought of you."
+
+"Don't you fret for me," was the steady answer.
+
+The moon was up, and threw a clear light on Claud's features as he stood
+bareheaded, just against the porch. Moved by a sudden impulse of
+affection, Henry laid his hand on the fair hair, and drew it closer,
+till it rested against his sturdy shoulder.
+
+"Claud," he said, "I believe I care more for you two than for any other
+living creatures. I know you will find your best happiness together, so
+I'll just not intrude my feelings on you any more. My head's full of
+plans for you, lad. Do you care to hear them?"
+
+"I should rather think so. Fowler, what a brick you are!"
+
+"Glad you think so. Now, listen. You'll accept that post of overseer I
+offered you?"
+
+"I should like it of all things."
+
+"Very well, then. I'll build you a house for my wedding gift. She can
+choose her own site, for most of the land round here is mine, as you
+know; and she can choose her own plans. I'll have them carried out,
+whatever they are. All I have will be hers when I'm gone; for Elsa will
+not want it. She has a large fortune of her own, and her husband's is
+larger. If my life is spared it will be my happiness to plan for your
+children, Claud. Do you think you can be happy leading such a retired
+life--eh?"
+
+"My happiness will be with Wynifred, wherever she is," was the tranquil
+answer. "I am not a boy, Fowler, and, as you know, my love has not been
+a fancy of an hour. She has told me that she is delighted at the idea of
+living here in the Combe; and, as for me--you know how I can enjoy
+myself in the country."
+
+"I foresee a long useful life for you both," said Henry, as they slowly
+went indoors in response to the supper-bell and reluctantly shut out the
+spring moonlight. "I wish I could feel as sure about Elsa."
+
+"Oh, that will be all right," said Claud, encouragingly. "What makes you
+despond about her?"
+
+"I feel so uncertain of her. What Miss Ellen always said about her is so
+true. She has a most pronounced character of her own, but nobody as yet
+knows what it is. I am afraid her husband expects too much of her."
+
+"Everyone who expects perfection in a woman must needs be disappointed,"
+returned Claud. "He will get over it, and find out how to manage her. He
+is a dreamer, you know--an idealist, any bride must needs fall short of
+his requirements. He is in love with an abstraction, and there is
+something particularly concrete about Mrs. Percivale."
+
+"There are some natures, I have heard of, that never trust again where
+their faith has been once shaken," said Henry, in a low voice. "I--I
+cannot consider Elsa reliable. She was not to be trusted as a child. I
+have a horrible suspicion that her husband would feel it terribly hard
+to forgive deceit."
+
+"She will have no occasion to deceive him," said Claud soothingly. "He
+will allow her to do whatever she pleases."
+
+"Well, I daresay I am wrong, I wish devoutly that I may be. But I have
+all along thought the marriage unsuitable. Of course, I foresaw it--from
+the moment when he saw her lying asleep in her aunt's room, the night we
+brought the news of her innocence. The circumstances were such as could
+not fail to attract such a romantic mind as his. And yet, Claud--yet--I
+wish things had fallen otherwise. She would have suited Allonby better."
+
+Claud was thankful that Henry was ignorant of the fact which, even now,
+was causing him the gravest anxiety. If he, Fowler, the gentlest of men,
+could sorrowfully admit that Elsa was not to be trusted, it was somewhat
+agitating to reflect that she was probably even now in possession of a
+secret which the entire London public was burning with curiosity to
+know. Henry did not believe in the existence of a secret at all. He
+thought that it was merely gossip, the natural result of Percivale's odd
+habits and secluded life.
+
+But suppose the entire facts were blazoned abroad--suppose the tale was
+in everybody's mouth!--Claud shrugged his shoulders. He had warned his
+friend, he could do no more. The sequel lay between the dainty hands of
+Percivale's wife. What would she do with it?
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER L.
+
+    "Eyes," he said, "now throbbing thro' me are ye eyes which did undo me?
+    Shining eyes, like antique jewels set in Parian marble stone?
+    Underneath that calm white forehead, are ye ever burning torrid.
+    O'er the desolate sand desert of my heart, and life alone?"
+
+    _Lady Geraldine's Courtship._
+
+
+It was a beautiful May evening. The air seemed full of incense, the
+trees which clothe the heights of Heidelberg were just one sheet of
+snowy blossom. The dull red castle was gilded by the slanting rays of
+the sun, and for a few moments stood out more decidedly that it is wont
+to do from the background of hills which surround it. The Neckar lay
+broad and calm under the light, at one end of the view lost in a
+narrowing gorge, at the other emerging wide into a seemingly limitless
+plain.
+
+Down the stream a boat was slowly floating. The current was taking her
+down quite fast enough to please her inmates. The young man's sculls lay
+idly skimming the surface of the shining water, and his eyes were turned
+up towards the bowery heights and the romantic ruin which lay to his
+right.
+
+The lady in the stern lay back with one hand and wrist clasped lightly
+on the rudder-lines; but there was little need for very accurate
+steering, as the season was too early and the stream too strong to tempt
+many boats out on the water.
+
+"By Jove, how lovely everything looks this evening! like a city in a
+dream," said Osmond Allonby, for it was he, turning up a face of
+artistic enjoyment to the lovely scene, with its quaint old roofs
+clustering down to the river, and its faint blue haze enveloping city
+and pinewoods alike in the mystery and stillness of evening.
+
+"Charming," said his companion, Mrs. Frederick Orton, as she roused
+herself, and let her eye follow the direction of his. "Let us land, and
+stroll up to the _Schloss_. It will be fine to see the sun set from that
+height."
+
+"Ah! you are improving, I see. Learning, under my tuition, to appreciate
+the beauties of nature," said Osmond, in a tone which seemed to imply
+considerable intimacy.
+
+He was a good deal changed for the worse in the few short months which
+had elapsed since the shattering of his hopes. It seemed as though his
+entire will had concentrated itself towards one aim, which, when
+removed, left his whole moral nature in fragments. His mouth looked hard
+and mocking, his eyes like those of one who sat up late, his whole
+manner had degenerated and taken a different tone.
+
+His falling in with the Ortons in Paris had been about the worst thing
+which could possibly have befallen him. Ottilie's bitter hatred of
+Percivale and Elsa made her a dangerously sympathetic confidante. With
+one of those impulses of kind-heartedness which she was not wholly
+without, she had commissioned the forlorn young man to paint her
+portrait. This was at the time when his utter solitude and misery were
+so great, that his better nature was on the point of reasserting itself
+and sending him back to his forsaken home. But the daily sittings in
+Mrs. Orton's luxurious boudoir supplied his craving better than a return
+to duty would have done. She made a _protege_ of him. He was
+good-looking and had plenty to say for himself, his present sardonic and
+bitter frame of mind was amusing. He fell into the habit of escorting
+her about when, as frequently happened, her husband was too indolent to
+accompany her. When they moved from Paris, he went with them. She
+declared she should be dull without him. For several reasons it suited
+them better to remain abroad, and Osmond had grown to believe that he
+could not set foot in England till after Elsa's marriage. The notice of
+that event in the newspapers did not, however, seem to quicken his
+desire to go back and take up the broken threads of his life. He was
+content to dawdle on at Ottilie's side, railing at fate, sneering at the
+world, and growing every day less able to retrieve himself, and face
+disappointment like a man.
+
+Ottilie laughed at his remark, as she laughed at all his sneers, whether
+directed against herself or others.
+
+"Oh, you'll do wonders with me, if you keep on the course of training
+long enough," she said. "Now pull a few strokes on the bow side. I want
+to go in."
+
+"This is a sweet place.... I should like to make some stay in it," said
+Osmond, musingly.
+
+"Like most Edens, you would find there was a snake in it," said she,
+laughing.
+
+"Might I ask whether you mean anything particular by that remark?"
+
+"What makes you ask?"
+
+"I fancied there was a hidden meaning in it, somehow."
+
+"My dear boy, your penetration is fast becoming a thing to dread. Yes,
+if you will have it, there _was_ a special meaning. I looked at the
+visitors' list this morning, and saw, among the arrivals----"
+
+She paused. They were just in shore. The young man shipped his sculls,
+leaned his arms on his knees, and faced her steadily.
+
+"Well--who were among the arrivals?"
+
+"Mr. and Mrs. Percivale," she answered, rising. He sprang up to help her
+to land.
+
+"What a mercy all that folly is over and done with," he said; and
+laughed, the harsh and dreary laugh proving the falsity of his words as
+he uttered them.
+
+Turning to the boat he collected her wraps, paid the boatman, and then
+turned absently towards the town.
+
+"We were going to the castle, I think?"
+
+They set off walking in silence. At last Osmond abruptly broke out:
+
+"They are returning from their honeymoon, I suppose."
+
+"Doubtless. They are soon tired of seclusion; but Mrs. Percivale is no
+lover of seclusion; she had too much of that in her youth. What she
+wants now is to have her fling; and that is the very thing which does
+not by any means meet her husband's wishes."
+
+"Why not? Is he jealous of her?" asked Osmond, in dry, hard tones.
+
+"Jealous? He may be. I daresay she will give him cause; but that is not
+his reason for not wishing to appear very conspicuously before the
+public."
+
+"Do you know the real reason?" asked Osmond, after a pause, staring at
+the ground.
+
+"Broadly speaking, yes, I do. But not the details; they are too
+carefully concealed. Osmond, my young friend, if you want to be revenged
+on your successful rival, as is the fashion in the story-books, I could
+surely show you the easiest way in the world to do it."
+
+"You could?" he said, with a momentary flash of unmistakable interest.
+
+"I could indeed. I mean it."
+
+"Rubbish," he said, in the unceremonious way of addressing her which he
+had rapidly acquired.
+
+"Oh, very well, if you contradict me flatly--"
+
+"I didn't contradict. I only thought it was another flight of that
+brilliant fancy of yours."
+
+"It is no fancy, but a solid fact," said she, vehemently, "that nobody
+knows who Percivale's father was. There! You have it in black and
+white."
+
+Osmond gave a long whistle, and mused a few minutes in silence. At
+last--
+
+"Won't do, my friend," said he. "She would never have been allowed to
+marry a man who could give no account of his antecedents."
+
+"Oh--you think so! You are as clever as all the rest of them! I tell you
+the man is an adventurer--a mere adventurer! He had no difficulty in
+bamboozling that old idiot Henry Fowler, who was taken in by him from
+the first moment he saw him. As for the women, they could none of them
+see beyond his red beard and his red sash. It is as clever a case of
+fraud as I ever saw."
+
+Osmond laughed bitterly.
+
+"If it were fraud how can you prove it?" he said. "It is of no use to
+set indefinite reports afloat. There are hundreds of them already, but
+nobody believes them. And how can you get at facts?"
+
+"Let me have Mrs. Elsa alone for half-an-hour, and I will engage to know
+as much as she does by the end of that time."
+
+"And how much does she know?"
+
+"Everything there is to tell."
+
+"How in the world do you know that?"
+
+"Because, my friend, I am, unlike you, a student of character. Percivale
+is besottedly in love, and, with his idiotic, romantic notions, would be
+sure to think he must tell his precious Elsa everything."
+
+"Your inconsistency pains me, Mrs. O. Does this tally with the character
+of the deliberate adventurer? Surely he would have more prudence."
+
+"Well," said she, after a pause, "if she does not know it now, she could
+certainly make him tell her, if it were put into her head to ask."
+
+"You would be a bad ambassadress. If there is one person on the face of
+this earth whom she hates, I imagine it to be yourself."
+
+"Oh! Pooh! Let me have her for an hour, I would be her warmest friend."
+
+He smiled.
+
+"You are sanguine," he answered.
+
+"Osmond, you think I am talking nonsense," she said, impetuously. "I
+tell you I am not. Will you bet on it? Will you bet me that I don't get
+an interview with Elsa Percivale, win her over, and extract her
+husband's secret?"
+
+"Yes, I will. Twelve pairs of gloves--anything you choose. You won't do
+it. To begin with, is it likely her husband will ever leave her alone?
+Besides, I think you are all wrong. I don't believe in any mystery
+except what is the invention of gossip."
+
+"Very good. We shall see," was the lady's oracular answer. "Remember,
+it's a bet."
+
+"Certainly. What am I to have if you fail?"
+
+"A couple of boxes of the very best cigars."
+
+"Done."
+
+No more was said, for they were in the very steepest part of the ascent,
+and even Osmond's breath began to fail.
+
+At last they were at the summit, repaid by a view which more than atoned
+for past struggle. As they leaned over the terrace, and gazed down,
+there was nothing beneath their eye but a foaming sheet of white,
+spray-like blossom and tender green foliage. The whole air was heavy
+with its fragrance. It was like a fairy sea, and inspired a longing to
+plunge one's weary limbs into its flowery midst and be at rest. As
+Osmond gazed around him, a sadness, born of the evening consecration,
+stole meltingly over his passion-twisted heart. The monotonous iterance
+of a little vesper bell somewhere in the valley, hidden by the orchard
+bowers, added the finishing touch. Leaning over the parapet, he felt
+unmanly tears welling up from his heart. All around spoke of peace, and
+it seemed as though the force of an invisible yet all pervading love
+flung around him.
+
+    "A slow arm of sweet compression felt with beatings at the breast."
+
+Not for long had nature had the power so to move him; not since the fair
+June day when, in the Devonshire Combe, had first shone on him the eyes
+of the girl who was to prove his undoing. Remorseful memories swept over
+him all in a moment. A wholesome sense of failure, not in his worldly
+career, but morally, weighed down his spirit.
+
+Ottilie, seated on the parapet, with her jewellery and her gorgeous
+parasol, looked out of place. At the moment it seemed as if he loathed
+her company, and must leave her.
+
+A great yearning to be at peace, and forgive, flooded his heart. All the
+springs of sentiment were touched. Perhaps if any spot could lift up the
+degraded soul, and speak to it intensely of its own high possibilities,
+that spot is Heidelberg at the blossoming of spring.
+
+A bough of lilac swayed close to his lips. Its surpassing freshness
+drifted past him on the breeze. The wallflower in the cleft of the red
+sandstone wall gave out with odorous sighs the store of warm sunlight
+which it had imbibed all day. He covered his face with his hands. Had he
+been alone, he would have fallen on his knees. There, on the bounteous
+hill-side, was the ruin of a palace--one of those "little systems of
+this world, which have their day, and cease to be." The kings who had
+erected it and lived in it, the men who had, may be, broken their hearts
+there, as he, Osmond, had lately done, were all past and gone, like a
+dream. But all around the woods were yet green, the fruit-trees
+blossomed still; and, encircling the decaying works of man, the works of
+God took on the semblance of the endless youth of immortality.
+
+No such thought as this took definite shape in Osmond's mind; but the
+influence spoke all around him in the eloquent silence, teaching him, as
+God is apt to teach, without words, by the stress of the unseen upon his
+soul, felt without being comprehended. He had wandered away from Mrs.
+Orton's incongruous presence, and was alone in the most lonely part of
+the terrace.
+
+Steps on the gravel roused him--low voices. Then the light ripple of a
+girl's laugh, like a splash of musical water, made him almost leap from
+his attitude of musing, every fibre of him alive and quivering with a
+rush of memory.
+
+She stood before him--Elsa Percivale. Inwardly he said over the strange
+name that was now hers. One hand was in her husband's arm, the other
+was full of lilac and cherry-blossom. Her shining eyes beamed from
+beneath the most alluring of large hats. They looked, at that moment, an
+ideal bride and bridegroom.
+
+Osmond whitened to the very lips as he faced the pair. He had no moment
+of preparation. Though he had just heard that they were in Heidelberg,
+the idea of meeting them face to face had not occurred to him very
+forcibly.
+
+But, after the first moment of confusion, he felt that he could perhaps
+more easily have achieved such a meeting in this particular spot, than
+anywhere else in the world. His mood was that of being lifted above
+disappointment. He raised his hat with a hand that hardly trembled, and
+then stepped forward with a low word of greeting.
+
+As for Elsa, when she saw who confronted her, the color flew to her
+face, and she glanced up at Leon's face with a guilty start. He scarcely
+looked surprised, but advanced with frank courtesy, saying.
+
+"How do you do? What a lovely spot in which to meet."
+
+"It is indeed," said Osmond, wondering at the calm with which he was
+able to proceed to offer the customary hopes as to the bride's health,
+and inquire what sort of weather they had had for their honeymoon.
+
+Elsa was in radiant spirits this evening. She was on her way to
+London--that London which she loved so well. She was travelling, too,
+from place to place. Almost every night they stopped at a different
+hotel, and she sunned herself in the admiring glances of fresh
+_tables-d'hote_. Whatever she expressed a wish for was immediately hers.
+Marriage, so far, suited her exactly. Certainly it was rather dull at
+Schwannberg and Leon had been rather tiresome sometimes, talking in a
+manner she could not understand. But that was over now; and honeymoons
+are not, as a rule, of frequent occurrence in one's career.
+
+Whether Percivale was equally satisfied was a problem not yet to be
+answered. His thoughts were always hard to guess. Osmond could only note
+afresh every grace of his person and bearing with a bitterness which not
+even his late musings could take away.
+
+"Are you here alone?" asked Elsa of Osmond, after her first panic; she
+was so relieved to find that he shook hands like any other mortal, and
+attempted no denunciations, that she felt quite at ease.
+
+"No," he said, "I am with the Ortons."
+
+"The Ortons!" cried she, with a gesture of dislike, and then she turned
+her head, and saw Ottilie Orton just behind her.
+
+"I don't wonder at that involuntary expression of opinion, Mrs.
+Percivale," said Ottilie, in the soft low tones she could employ when
+she chose. "I am afraid you will never be able to forgive me for the
+wrong I did--for the greater wrong I intended to do you."
+
+Ottilie dearly loved a little melodrama, anything approaching a "scene"
+was quite in her line. After the above speech she looked imploringly at
+Elsa, not holding out her hand, yet seeming by her whole attitude and
+expression, to denote that from one so good and beautiful she dared to
+hope much.
+
+Elsa looked at her husband, and her husband hesitated. His distrust of
+the lady was profound, yet he did not wish to be rude.
+
+"You cannot know, how can anyone tell," pleaded she, "what little
+Godfrey was to me? Ah, you saw only the bad side of his nature, you
+never knew what he could be to those he loved. I--never," here the rich,
+expressive voice broke, "I never had a child of my own--he was all I had
+to love. Cannot you imagine the burning sense of wrong--the feeling that
+my darling was dead, that some one must and should pay for his death? I
+was blind--mad! I lost all sense of right. I never thought of you, I
+only wanted vengeance for my boy."
+
+It was beautifully done. The fervent tones took fresh meaning from the
+picturesque ruin and the lovely surroundings. Two of her auditors
+listened eagerly, the third, Osmond, turned away sick with disgust. He
+knew Mrs. Frederick pretty well by now. He had heard her conversation as
+they climbed the hill together, he knew that, if she possessed one
+sensation more prominently than another, it was hatred of the two
+standing before her. Yet she could speak thus to compass her own ends.
+
+Almost before he knew what had happened, both the husband and wife had
+shaken hands with her, and she had seated herself on the parapet,
+holding Elsa's hand in hers. He stood apart, hearing as in a dream the
+conversation which Ottilie knew so well how to sustain--hearing her
+faltering statements of contrition, and her pitiful complaint of
+sleepless nights, spent in the wonder as to whether chance would ever
+give her the opportunity to crave that forgiveness which she so sorely
+needed.
+
+What the influence of the calm, spring sunset had begun, the violent
+revulsion of feeling completed in Osmond. A stinging contempt for
+himself, in that he had worse than idled away three months in this
+woman's society, overcame him. The thought that, in his cowardly desire
+of revenge, he had well nigh plotted with her the destruction of this
+young Elsa's golden dream of happiness seemed to strike him like a lash.
+
+No more--no more! A little fount of longing for his despised and
+deserted home broke over his barren heart. Home, straight home, now. To
+sever instantly all connection with the Ortons was his one fixed
+intention.
+
+"The Castle Hotel!" Ottilie was saying, "why, that is ours. We shall
+meet at the _table-d'hote_ to-night."
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER LI.
+
+    A lady! In the narrow space
+    Between the husband and the wife!
+          ... She showed a face
+    With dangers rife.
+    A subtle smile, that dimpling fled
+    As night-black lashes rose and fell.
+
+    _The Letter L._
+
+
+"You are an excessively foolish boy," said Ottilie, angrily. "It is
+idiotic of you, Osmond. Leave the place by express train because of the
+Percivales! Why, they will probably leave themselves the day after
+to-morrow, at further. They are making no stay."
+
+"It is of no use to argue," said Osmond, turning his haggard face away
+from the window, where the twilight was growing obscure. "I am off, Mrs.
+Orton. I seem an ungrateful brute, I know, but I can't help it. It's my
+lot, I think, to disappoint everybody who expects anything of me. I
+have, the feeling upon me that I must go; but, before I go, I want to
+say one thing."
+
+He stopped short. From the depths of an easy chair, Ottilie made an
+impatient exclamation.
+
+"Well, then, say it, do," said she, "if it's worth hearing."
+
+"I want to say that the bet's off, as far as I am concerned."
+
+She laughed loudly.
+
+"O ho, that is it, is it? No, no, my friend, you don't get off in that
+way. When you betted so valiantly, you thought you were putting your
+money on a certainty; but, since the specimen of my ability I gave you
+up on the terrace, you begin to tremble. You find that I am not such a
+fool as you took me for! Excellent! But you shan't beat such a cowardly
+retreat as that."
+
+"You mistake, partly," said the young man, hurriedly. "I admit that,
+when I dared you to try a reconciliation, I thought the whole thing was
+out of the question; and now I see I was mistaken. But don't think I
+withdraw for fear of loss. You shall have your gloves without the
+trouble of winning them; sooner than that----"
+
+"Dear me! Then what is all the fuss about?" she asked, sneeringly.
+
+He came up to her chair, laying a clenched hand on the back of it.
+
+"Don't try to do harm--to make mischief," he said, in a low voice. "It's
+devil's work."
+
+"O--oh! Are we there? It is a sudden attack of virtue you are laboring
+under, is it? My good friend, don't attempt the part. It doesn't suit
+you nearly as well as the one you have lately appeared in."
+
+"And what is the part I have lately appeared in?"
+
+"Well, something very nice and fascinating, and easy to get on with. If
+you are going to be all over prickles, and object to everything on high
+moral grounds, you will make yourself an emphatic nuisance, as Artemus
+Ward observed."
+
+"Much better that I should take my departure, then. We shall never
+agree. But, Mrs. Orton, you have been very kind to me----"
+
+"Oh! don't allude to your gratitude. It is so patent."
+
+"You are bitter. I am glad, perhaps, to think that you will regret me a
+little bit. But won't you promise me this one thing--the only favor I
+ever asked you, I believe. Let Percivale's wife alone."
+
+"Osmond, you are a poor, chicken-hearted coward. I am ashamed of you.
+Why your reasons for hating those two ought to be even stronger than
+mine. Here lies revenge ready to your hand. Yet you drop it and sneak
+away. You are worse than Macbeth."
+
+"And you," he rejoined, excitedly, "are worse than Lady Macbeth--a woman
+who hounded a man on to crime. Thank God I am not so completely under
+your influence as that, Mrs. Orton."
+
+"You are too complimentary, Mr. Allonby. One would think that I was
+anxious to murder the Percivales in their beds."
+
+"You are anxious to do them all the harm you can."
+
+"Now listen to me, if your generous rage will allow you to be impartial
+for a moment. What is all this rhodomontade about? If Percivale is an
+adventurer, he deserves to be exposed--it is a kindness to his wife to
+accomplish it. If he is not, my shaft will recoil harmless. I shall do
+no injury in either case."
+
+"Pardon me. She is his wife. If he is unworthy, for Heaven's sake spare
+her the pain of knowing it. If he is not, you will most probably achieve
+the wreck of his married happiness by making her suspect him. Either way
+you cannot fail to do infinite harm."
+
+"Dear me! You ought to have been a lawyer, not an artist. You have such
+a logical mind. One would think you cherished no grudge against that
+empty little jilt for her treatment of you."
+
+"You would think right. I love Elsa. I always shall. Mine is the kind of
+love that is immortal; I wish it could die. But it cannot. Like
+Prometheus, it must live for ever, though a vulture gnaw at its very
+heart. Her treatment of me makes no difference at all. I would die to
+save her from pain."
+
+"You are a contemptible fool, then!"
+
+"Possibly. My folly may make me happier than your revenge will make
+you." He walked once or twice through the room, then stopped again at
+her side. "Won't you give me a promise?" he said, wistfully. "I am going
+away, and you won't see me again for some time. Won't you promise?"
+
+"I decline to speak to you at all. I am disgusted with you; sorry I ever
+troubled myself to be kind to such a poor-spirited----"
+
+She rose with passion, flung past him, and left the room. Osmond put
+his hand over his brow and stood silent for several minutes. Ought he to
+warn Percivale that Mrs. Orton's pretence of friendship was only
+specious? Perhaps he ought. And yet----He could not control his jealous
+dislike so far as that. No, it was impossible. If he washed his own
+hands of the whole affair, surely that was enough. It was the husband's
+duty to protect his wife; it was certainly not Osmond's place to
+interfere. Percivale had obtained possession of the treasure. Let him
+keep it. So said he vindictively to his own heart.
+
+The sound of the opening door made him start. It was so dark that he
+could hardly see Frederick Orton as he walked in.
+
+"Is Ottilie here?" he asked, lazily.
+
+"She has just gone out," returned Osmond. "I'll wish you good-bye,
+Orton; my train goes in half-an-hour."
+
+"Your train? Where the deuce are you off to?"
+
+"England. I have played long enough. I am going back to work."
+
+Frederick stuck his hands in his pockets and whistled.
+
+"Oho! I see daylight. Mr. and Mrs. Percivale are in the hotel," he
+drawled. "Pooh! what does that matter? Stay and cut him out. Easily
+done. He's too virtuous to keep any woman's affection for long."
+
+Osmond laughed bitterly.
+
+"Which means that I am not?"
+
+Orton laughed too.
+
+"Look at Ottilie, she is hand and glove with them; sharp girl!" he said.
+"Thinks they are rich enough to be useful acquaintances, I suppose. Bury
+the hatchet, old man, and get the happy bridegroom to give you a
+commission."
+
+"Might manage it seven years hence, but it's no good to try yet," said
+Osmond, with an effort to copy his tone. "I am afraid Mrs. Orton doesn't
+like my defection, but she will soon get over it. Remember me to her. I
+must not wait now, or I shall miss my train."
+
+After all, he had to wait for the next train. Firm in his purpose,
+however, he declined to go in to the _table-d'hote_, but walked out into
+the gardens of the hotel, and sat down in the spring starlight,
+meditating. He recalled the gush of feeling with which the castle had
+inspired him, and the meeting, so laden with emotion of the most
+poignant kind.
+
+Meanwhile, Elsa had asked in surprise what had become of Mr. Allonby.
+She was excessively disappointed not to see him again. She had decked
+herself in one of her most radiant _trousseau_ gowns, in order to
+inspire him with fresh despair at sight of what he had lost. In point of
+fact, she had never regretted her treatment of him until that day. He
+was greatly altered, and, in her opinion, much for the better. His
+world-worn air and cold cynicism were just the very things to attract
+her. How much more interesting he would have been if he had always had
+that air! He was her timid slave no longer. A desire to subjugate him
+afresh fired her bosom. He was far better worth thinking about than she
+had previously imagined. And now, just when she wanted him, he had
+disappeared.
+
+He was not far off, had she known it. He slowly paced the walk under the
+trees in the shadow until the dinner was over, and the ladies came out
+on the balcony. He saw Elsa, in the shimmer of her pale dress, with the
+moon on her golden hair. She leaned over the balcony and laughed at
+Ottilie, who was down in the fragrant garden below. Osmond heard Mrs.
+Orton ask her to come down--it was so cool and fresh among the flowers;
+and, after a few minutes' hesitation, the girl disappeared within doors,
+fetched a wrap, and came gliding like a silver moonbeam down the
+staircase to the lawn.
+
+The young man held his breath as he saw the two walk away together into
+the gloom of the garden. He was tempted for a moment to emerge from his
+concealment, join them, and defy Ottilie.
+
+At the moment a clock struck. He started. He must not lose his sole
+chance of escaping from Heidelberg that night.
+
+Slowly he turned and moved away, his eyes still on the two ladies, the
+dark and the fair, as they strolled in the picturesque setting of the
+purple night together; and the sound of Elsa's joyous laugh was the last
+memory he took with him from the enchanted spot.
+
+It was in this wise that Osmond returned to his duty and his senses.
+
+Hilda and Wynifred had just left Edge Combe, and returned to Mansfield
+Road in preparation for the wedding-day of the latter, which was to be
+on the first of June, when, to their delighted astonishment, arrived a
+letter from Cologne, from Osmond, warm, loving, and penitent,
+announcing that he was travelling back to them as fast as train would
+carry him. It is needless to describe the joy with which the sisters and
+Sally prepared the little house for the wanderer's reception, carefully
+hiding away out of the studio any picture or study which might bring
+unpleasant memories in its train.
+
+When he experienced the delight of their welcome, and the sweet
+surrounding atmosphere of home, he was more ready than ever to marvel at
+the folly which had led him, in his dark hour, to fly from such a
+prodigal wealth of sympathy. It seemed, after all, as if trouble had
+strengthened him. His total failure to bear up like a man against
+disappointment had taught him a lesson. The ease with which he had
+lapsed into a "lower range of feeling" was also serviceable in showing
+him his inherent weakness. Only for the next few months his heart was
+overshadowed by a deep misgiving. He could not banish from his
+conscience the idea that he ought to have warned Percivale against Mrs.
+Orton. His quitting the field, as he had done, washing his hands, like
+Pilate, free from the guilt of destroying a just man, seemed a
+despicable piece of pusillanimity. Every day he feared to hear ill
+tidings of some sort--to learn from the Wynch-Freres, or Henry Fowler,
+that some unpleasantness had arisen between Elsa and her husband.
+
+But time went on. Wynifred's wedding-day came and went, the Percivales
+were in town, Elsa's name figured at all the best receptions. She and
+her husband were seen everywhere together, and though, certainly, there
+were those who said that he looked very ill, still, the world is always
+prone to calumny. They were leaving the old house by the river, and
+moving into an enormous mansion in one of the fashionable squares. The
+decorating and furnishing of this abode was the delight of the bride's
+life. Society said that she grew every day more gay and entrancing, her
+husband more pale and silent. He was not used to the confined life of
+London--to being up all night in heated rooms, in noise, glare, and
+crowd. Physically, it told upon him. Lady Mabel Wynch-Frere saw it, and
+told Elsa, she must take her husband away as soon as possible,
+
+"Yes, poor fellow, it is unfortunate we cannot manage to get away yet,
+is it not?" said Elsa, brightly. "But you know what upholsterers and
+decorators are unless one is personally there to superintend them? It is
+impossible to leave town until things are rather more finished. It is
+that hateful house in St. James' Place that makes Leon ill, I am sure of
+it. He will be a different creature when we move."
+
+Certainly no results had as yet followed from Mrs. Orton's enmity.
+Osmond grew at last to believe that all her talk had been at random,
+that no mystery existed, that she had done nothing, and that he was a
+fool to have distressed himself over an angry woman's idle threats.
+
+Yet there were moments,--times of deep thought and solitude, when, on
+pondering over what he knew of Ottilie's character, this explanation
+hardly satisfied him. There was a power for evil about this woman which
+was undeniable--a keenness, a mental activity which were at times
+formidable. Was it possible that she had obtained the knowledge she
+sought for, and as yet held it in her bosom like a concealed weapon,
+waiting a favorable opportunity to strike?
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER LII.
+
+    DUCHESS. What have they said?
+
+    BERTUCCIO.              Ask never that of man.
+
+    DUCHESS. What have they said of me?
+
+    BERTUCCIO.                    I cannot say.
+
+    DUCHESS. Thou wilt not, being my enemy. Why, for shame,
+    You should not, sir, keep silence.
+
+    BERTUCCIO.                      Yet I will.
+
+    DUCHESS. I never dreamt so dark a dream as this,
+
+    BERTUCCIO. God send it no worse waking!
+
+    _Marino Faliero._
+
+
+A pleasant autumn afternoon shed its mellow light over Edge Combe. The
+fields were golden with harvest, and the air was warm with sunshine. In
+the porch at Lower House, Wynifred Cranmer stood leaning against the
+arched doorway, her needle-work in her hands. Near her, in a capacious
+wicker chair, her husband was enjoying his afternoon "weed."
+
+Very contented and serene did Claud look, in his countrified suit of
+rough cloth, his leggings and thick boots. The costume suited him
+admirably, and the healthy out-of-door life had already given a glow of
+red-brown to his fair complexion. His gun lay near at hand, ready for
+him to clean, when so disposed; but at present life seemed to offer no
+more perfect enjoyment than to sit still, smoke, and look at his wife's
+delicate head in a setting of sunny sky and purple clematis blossom.
+
+"Penny for your thoughts, Wyn," he remarked, after a more lengthy pause
+than usual; for they were, on the whole, rather a talkative pair.
+
+"I was thinking about saucepans," said Wyn, peacefully, as she drew her
+needleful of silk out of the cloth and stuck in her needle with a click
+of her thimble.
+
+"Saucepans, my dear girl?"
+
+"Yes, saucepans. Where is my penny?"
+
+"Do you think pots and pans are worth such a sum?"
+
+"I wish they were not. It would be pleasant if we could stock our house
+with them at the price. No; it was Miss Willoughby's lovely
+preserving-pan that filled my thoughts. We must drive into Philmouth and
+get one to-morrow. You are so terribly addicted to jam that I expect I
+shall pass my whole career in boiling and skimming fruit!"
+
+"Yes, let us have plenty of jam," returned Claud, with interest. "Dear
+me, how entertaining all the little details of life are, to be sure. I
+don't know when I have been more excited than when I had successfully
+contrived those bookshelves; and the sinking of the well in our garden
+kept me awake two whole nights."
+
+"You silly boy! New brooms sweep clean," said his wife, laughing. "You
+will get tired of it all one day. No! I don't believe you will! We shall
+always be planning some improvement, we two. Housekeeping is a great
+pleasure."
+
+"To think we shall be under our own roof in a month's time, my child,"
+cried Claud, gleefully. "It sounds ungrateful to dear old Fowler, who is
+such a first-rate fellow; but it will be nice to be all to ourselves,
+won't it?"
+
+"Won't it!" said Wyn, rapturously, letting fall her work, while she
+gazed at her husband with devotion.
+
+"Mrs. Cranmer, come here and sit on my knee. I want to say something."
+
+"Can't you say it as we are?"
+
+"It's private and confidential."
+
+"You must put down your pipe then. I can't talk to you if you puff smoke
+in my face."
+
+He obediently laid aside the pipe and held out his arms invitingly.
+
+Wyn decorously took a seat, still armed with her work.
+
+"A gardener is sure to come by in a moment," she remarked, primly.
+
+"The entire staff of domestics may march past in procession, for aught I
+care. Don't be silly," said her husband, pinching her ear.
+
+"Well, now, what did you want to say?" asked she.
+
+"Why, that something has upset dear old Henry. I expect it is to do with
+Elsa. I know he is very anxious about her. I was down at the quarries
+this morning, and he rode up to give me the message I gave you--that he
+would not be in to dinner. I thought he seemed not quite himself, and I
+asked him what it was. He said he would tell me later. He looked most
+horribly put out."
+
+"Oh, it can't be Elsa. Why, they are coming here in the yacht to-morrow,
+to spend a week at Edge Willoughby. Something connected with business,
+it must be."
+
+"I don't think so, from his manner; but we shall see. Imagine those
+other two honey-moonists turning up to-morrow. I wonder if they enjoyed
+themselves as much as you and I did?"
+
+"They couldn't!" cried Wyn, letting her work slip from her knee, while
+she took her husband's face between her hands and caressed it. "No
+wedding-journey was ever like ours, or ever will be, will it?"
+
+"I don't quite see how it _could_," he returned, with an air of candid
+reflection. "Ours was jolly. We'll have another next year, and go
+further afield, if we can save up enough out of our income."
+
+"My dear silly, we shall save _heaps_! We are _rich_, I keep on telling
+you, but you won't believe it. Do you remember my last month's
+accounts?"
+
+"They were absurd; but we have not tried housekeeping yet."
+
+"And, as we are going to keep such a great deal of dinner company, our
+expenses will be heavy indeed."
+
+"My dear girl, reflect! Think of the cost of your preserving-pan!"
+
+"As to you, you have just bought that expensive fowling-piece. Whenever
+my weekly balance is low, I shall send you out shooting. No more
+butcher's meat till things come right again."
+
+"Ah! Henry Fowler speaks the truth. I am indeed a hen-pecked husband."
+
+"Claud! How dare you? I am sure Mr. Fowler never said such a thing."
+
+"I never said he did."
+
+"You are quite too foolish; and now you must let me go, for here comes
+George, and he is bringing the tea-tray out here."
+
+"Well done, George," said Mr. Cranmer. "Just what I feel to want. And
+there comes the postman over the bridge. Run like a good little girl and
+bring me my letters."
+
+"None for you," said Wyn, returning. "Only one for the Honorable Mrs. C.
+Cranmer, from Lady Mabel."
+
+As she stood by the rustic tea-table, opening and reading her letter,
+her husband, for the hundredth time, thought how pretty she looked.
+Fresh and dainty as to her gown, her face just tinged with color, no
+longer unnaturally thin, but alive and sparkling with animation. Her
+soft hair waved about her in the pleasant air, her sole ornaments were
+the two wide gold rings on the third finger of her left hand. Henry
+Fowler had witnessed the change he had so longed to effect in her--the
+combined result of happiness and the Combe air.
+
+From her serene brow to her neatly-shod feet, this doting Claud had not
+a fault to find with her. She was his own, the darling of his heart, the
+fulfilment of every need of his soul.
+
+But, even as he gazed, Wyn's happy face clouded; a furrow came in the
+smooth forehead.
+
+"Oh, Claud!" she said, hurriedly, "here is something very disagreeable.
+I wonder if Mr. Fowler can have heard this; it would be enough to make
+him feel very disturbed, at least. Mabel is at Moynart, and Edward
+joined her yesterday, and he says there is a hateful story about Mr.
+Percivale going the round of the clubs."
+
+"My child, there usually is a hateful story about him going the round of
+the clubs----"
+
+"Yes, but Colonel Wynch-Frere seems to think there is something in this
+one. The names and dates are so accurate. I--it was before my time. Did
+you ever hear of R----?"
+
+She named a notorious political offender, who, nearly thirty years
+before, fled to Germany, and there committed suicide on the eve of his
+arrest.
+
+"Yes," said Claud, thoughtfully, "I remember hearing of it. I was in the
+nursery at the time. I think Mabel and I acted the whole scene together.
+We liked a violent death of any sort. But what about him?"
+
+"They say Leon Percivale is his son."
+
+Claud raised his eyes to the scene before him. There lay the bay, there
+was the spot where the white _Swan_ had anchored. There in the dawn, a
+twelvemonth ago, he had seen the sun rise over Percivale the
+victor--Percivale, who had saved Elsa Brabourne from a stigma worse than
+death.
+
+Now the blow had fallen. The girl whom he had rescued had betrayed him,
+as Claud had feared she would. The blood rushed to his face, a storm of
+angry sorrow to his heart. Why, why had such a man wasted his heart on
+so slight a thing as Elsa?
+
+Wynifred's eyes rested keenly on her husband. She saw his silence, his
+consternation.
+
+"Oh, Claud, it is not true, is it?"
+
+"No, darling, I know that it is not true; and yet--yet--I fear there is
+some truth in it."
+
+She came close to him, laying her hands on his shoulders.
+
+"Who can have spoken of such a thing?" she said, earnestly.
+
+"There was only one human being who knew the facts," was the answer.
+"That was--his wife."
+
+"Claud, no!" Her vehemence startled him. "You should say such a thing of
+no wife!" she cried. "It is impossible--unnatural! She never could have
+betrayed such a secret!"
+
+He rose, and slipped an arm round her neck.
+
+"You judge all women by your own standard, dear."
+
+"I don't! I don't do anything of the kind! I do not think highly of
+Elsa--you know I never did! But that would be too horrible. It has come
+out some other way. No wife could be such a traitor."
+
+As she spoke the words, Henry Fowler came over the bridge; and
+instinctively they held their breath. His face looked calmer and he was
+smiling.
+
+"Well, young people," he said, brightly, "my eyes are getting old, you
+know, but I don't fancy I'm wrong. Claud, look out to sea. Isn't there a
+sail out there towards Lyme? Isn't it the cutter?"
+
+Claud turned his eyes in the direction indicated.
+
+"Right enough," he said. "If this breeze holds, she'll be here in no
+time. She has made her journey a day faster than was expected."
+
+"Ay lad! It's a year to-day since she came sailing into the bay!
+Yesterday was the night of the great storm."
+
+He turned to Wyn. "I got a bit upset to-day by some foolish talk that I
+heard in Stanton about Leon. But I've decided to think no more of it. As
+soon as I see him I know I should feel ashamed of myself to have thought
+ill of the lad--God bless him! Now, Mrs. Cranmer, a cup of tea, if you
+please, for I must be off down to the shore."
+
+Wyn slipped her letter into her pocket, and betook herself to the
+tea-pot. Her husband hastily got up, leaving his own tea almost
+untasted, and disappeared into the house to collect himself a little;
+for he felt as though his meeting with Percivale might be agitating.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER LIII.
+
+    A lie which is half the truth is even the blackest of lies.
+    For a lie which is all a lie may be met with and fought outright,
+    But a lie which is half a truth is a harder matter to fight.
+
+    _The Grandmother._
+
+
+An excited crowd had quickly collected on the beach when the news spread
+like wild-fire through the village that the _Swan_ was sailing into the
+bay.
+
+The premature arrival of the yacht was almost a disappointment to
+William Clapp, Joe Battishill and others, who were rigging up a
+triumphal arch in preparation for the morrow.
+
+Elaine's London wedding had been a great downfall to the hopes of the
+natives of the Combe; and now they desired to make up for it by
+welcoming her in a manner suitable to the triumphs she had achieved.
+
+Leon, leaning against the rail aft, as he had done a year ago, saw the
+assemblage of excited people, and a crowd of memories arose within him.
+So they had stood, a dark, eager group, on the breezy morning when first
+the Valley of Avilion had broken upon his gaze. How calm had been his
+mood, then! How serene his horizon! A tranquil peace was his habit of
+mind, no storm of passion had come to lash that deep heart of his into
+swelling waves.
+
+Since that day all had changed. His whole being had suffered revolution.
+How many sensations had successively dominated his soul! Emotion,
+excitement, longing, passion, triumph, and reaction.
+
+Yes. It had come. He had realized fully now that the glittering Eden of
+his dreams was a _mirage_ on desert sand. It was, he judged, his own
+fault from beginning to end. He had started on a wrong tack. He had
+begun life all theories and no experience, and one by one his sweet
+delusions had suffered shipwreck.
+
+He had married with no practical knowledge of women, their wants and
+their ways; for of course he imagined that all women were like Elsa. He
+found her unreasonable, exacting, pettish if thwarted, absolutely
+unsympathetic, and with a mind incapable of comprehending his. All these
+failings he unhesitatingly ascribed to her sex. He believed that he
+ought to have been prepared to find her thus merely because she was a
+woman.
+
+He was passing through the bitter stage of disillusioning which Claud
+had prophesied for him.
+
+This afternoon he was feeling specially unhappy, for Elsa so disliked
+the idea of coming to Edge at all that she had been sulky ever since
+they embarked. He had been impressed with the conviction that it was
+imperative that she should pay a short visit there, as Miss Ellen, who
+was failing rapidly, was longing to see her. Accordingly, he had exerted
+his naturally strong will and carried her off, and she had been making
+him feel it ever since. To add to her vexation, her maid was always ill
+on the water; so that Leon was devoutly thankful that the wind had
+enabled him to make his cruise shorter than he had anticipated.
+
+As the smiling shores of the lovely bay became distinct, he rose and
+went below to the dainty and exquisite little saloon, where his wife was
+reclining with a novel.
+
+"Elsa, we are nearly there," he said, "and there is quite a mob
+collected to watch our arrival."
+
+"No! really! is there?" she said, sitting up with some appearance of
+interest. "I never thought they would think of giving us a reception.
+What a pity I did not change my gown! Is it too late?"
+
+"You look perfectly well as you are," he answered, with a sorrowfully
+tender gaze at the graceful form in its natty blue serge and coquettish
+sailor-hat.
+
+"Oh, that is like you--you never care what I wear! I really think I'll
+change. What a bother Mathilde is to be sick like this! But you can hook
+my skirt, can't you, Leon?"
+
+"My dear little woman, we shall be on shore in five minutes. You must
+come on deck directly. Be quick--I want to see who is there to greet
+us."
+
+"How tiresome! Why didn't you remind me that the people would turn out
+to look at us?" she complained. "I do hate to feel shabby."
+
+"Elsa! you look perfectly charming! Do you suppose the villagers can
+distinguish between the prices of your gowns?" He coaxingly put his arm
+round her. "I want to feel proud of my wife," he said. "Put on your best
+smile for the people, darling."
+
+In this wise he managed to persuade her into showing herself on deck
+just in time. As the _Swan_ drew on gracefully close in shore, a hearty
+cheer greeted the young couple as they stood side by side.
+
+"There are Cranmer and his wife, besides dear old Fowler!" cried Leon,
+gladly, as he waved his cap. "How pleasant to have Claud here--it seems
+so long since I saw him--not since our wedding-day!"
+
+"Humph! You are a civil bridegroom! I am sorry that time has passed so
+tediously," said Elsa, in some real and some pretended annoyance. "But
+is that really Wynifred Allonby--Cranmer, I mean? How she has improved
+in looks! I suppose it is because she is better dressed. Mr. Cranmer
+looks well, too."
+
+In a few minutes they were all on shore together, in the midst of
+greetings.
+
+As Claud and Percivale joined hands, their eyes met in a long,
+searching, mutual inquiry. One moment showed Claud that his friend had
+not found perfect happiness. He was changed; he looked older, and the
+expression of his eyes and mouth seemed to tell of mental suffering.
+
+Claud's own obvious, radiant content was in sharp contrast.
+
+"Well, Claud, my dear friend, I was astonished, I confess," faltered
+Leon. "But I must congratulate you. You look very happy."
+
+"Happy! I should think so. I have my heart's desire," smiled Claud. "The
+only times that anything has power to vex me are the moments when she is
+out of sight; and I believe they will always be few and far between."
+
+Leon looked earnestly at him.
+
+"That _is_ happiness," he said.
+
+Mr. Fowler and the Cranmers dined at Edge Willoughby.
+
+It was a hot night--so sultry as to suggest the proverbial thunderstorm,
+though the sky was clear and starry.
+
+All dinner-time Percivale's sad eyes haunted Wynifred uncomfortably. He
+seemed to be studying her own and her husband's entire sympathy with a
+wistful appeal, as if wondering how it was that he and Elsa had come so
+terribly short of it.
+
+Mrs. Leon Percivale was in her most gracious mood. The public reception
+had gratified her, and to trail her new gowns up and down the familiar
+corridors of Edge Willoughby, to the awe of Jane Gollop and the rest of
+the staff of elderly retainers, was not without its charm. She wore a
+dazzling evening toilette, and looked like a beautiful apparition as she
+sat between her godfather and Claud in smiling quiescence, talking, as
+was her wont, very little.
+
+The company separated early, as was their country fashion,--Wynifred to
+walk peacefully home to Lower House with her husband and Mr. Fowler,
+through the meadow foot paths.
+
+They went in silence for some distance. Percivale had strolled as far as
+the end of the terrace with them, and bidden them good night at the
+stile. His tone appeared to have cast a gloom over all three; something
+there was in his whole manner which was inexpressibly sad. They felt it
+without knowing why. Henry spoke at last.
+
+"Percivale does not look well," he said.
+
+"No; Mabel has several times said so in writing," replied Claud. "She
+thinks London life does not suit him. I daresay a cruise will set him
+up. That is why she made this suggestion of his fetching her from
+Clovelly. I think he seems to like the idea."
+
+"Yes; but Elsa does not care to be left here alone while he goes; so I
+am afraid he will have to give it up," returned Mr. Fowler, with a sigh.
+
+Lady Mabel had taken a farm house at Edge for her children and their
+governess, and had written to say that, if the _Swan_ was really there,
+it would be very delightful to be fetched, and enjoy a cruise round the
+Cornish coast. The suggestion had brought a ray of brightness to Leon's
+face. To be at sea again, in his beloved _Swan_, was what he relished.
+He would like to go; but Elsa did not approve. She declined to accompany
+him, and declined to let him go without her.
+
+"I will not go cruising with a sick maid," she said, simply, "and I will
+not go cruising without a maid; and I will not be left in this dull
+place by myself. So you can't go, Leon."
+
+"I am glad, on the whole, that my wife does not require a maid," said
+Claud, with Wyn's hand held closely against his side.
+
+"You make such a charming lady's-maid that I require no other," she
+laughed. "Imagine, Mr. Fowler! He can do my hair beautifully. What it is
+to have a husband who can turn his hand to anything!"
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER LIV.
+
+    There is nothing to remember in me,
+    Nothing I ever said with a grace,
+    Nothing I did that you care to see,
+    Nothing I was that deserves a place
+    In your mind, now I leave you, set you free.
+
+    How strange it were, if you had all me
+    As I have all you in my heart and brain,
+    You, whose least word brought gloom or glee,
+    Who never yet lifted the hand in vain
+    Will hold mine yet, from over the sea!
+
+    _James Lee's Wife._
+
+
+Percivale strolled back alone up the garden path. The night was
+motionless and heavy. A lethargy seemed to lie on his soul like a
+weight. To-night he had realized a new thing. He had seen that the
+wedded bliss he had figured to himself was no dream, but a human
+possibility, which some attained, but which he had missed. How had he
+missed it?
+
+Was it possible that he had married the wrong woman?
+
+"Oh, Love, Love, no!" he cried, in his remorse. The fault was his, in
+some way, of that he was very sure. Had that unknown mother of his
+lived, she would have been his counsellor, and have shown him where he
+failed. His deep eyes filled with tears as the thought of that mother
+beyond the stars came vividly upon his soul. He felt a longing to be
+comforted--to have his unbroken loneliness scattered and dissipated by
+tender hands which should draw his weary head down lovingly to rest on a
+sympathetic breast, and, while telling him what had been his error,
+whisper consolation.
+
+If there was one thing more than another for which he could not possibly
+look to his wife, it was for this. Elsa expected him to have his
+attention always fixed on her and her requirements. The idea that he
+could ever ail in mind or body never occurred to her.
+
+He stood in the porch of Edge Willoughby, the suffocating sweetness of
+the verbena-bush, which grew beside the door, suffusing the air all
+round him. He remembered the night when he stood there with Fowler and
+Claud, just a year ago, bearing the news of Elsa's innocence.
+
+If he could but charm away this bitter sense of failure!
+
+A sudden determination to make one desperate appeal to his wife dawned
+in his heart. When first they were married he told himself she was in
+awe of him, she had not understood him. Now that she knew him better,
+was there not a chance that she might comprehend the fierce hunger which
+was in his heart? Surely yes.
+
+Meditatively he walked down the hall.
+
+As he passed along, his eye was attracted by a newspaper lying on the
+ground, folded tightly together as if it had fallen from some one's coat
+pocket.
+
+Stooping absently he picked it up, with intent to lay it on the
+hall-table near. As he did so, his eye fell on a paragraph scored at the
+side with a pencil-mark. One word in that paragraph struck him like a
+blow. He started, stared, half laughed like one whom a chance
+coincidence has disturbed; then, his eyes travelling on, he slowly
+whitened and stiffened where he stood, his attitude that of a man
+thunder-struck.
+
+For a couple of minutes or more he remained motionless, then put up an
+uncertain hand to his eyes as if to clear away a mist.
+
+After another pause, he laid his left hand firmly against the hall-table
+near which he stood, and, so fortified, read the passage through.
+
+The word which had first caught his eye was Littsdorf, the name of the
+obscure village of North Germany where his father and his mother lay
+buried. Glancing higher on the page he saw his father's name printed in
+full, and his own relationship to him openly proclaimed. So far, true;
+but the account then became inaccurate, repeating the old story of
+corruption and suicide which had so long passed current.
+
+As it stood it was not the truth as he had told it to his wife, yet
+there were certain things in it which surely no one could have known
+except from his wife's lips.
+
+Violently he repelled the thought, as if to think it were a sin. She!
+What, she! To whom he had trusted his honor--in whose hands he had laid
+his life and love--at whose feet he had heaped up the incense of a
+devotion which was all hers, and had never for a moment leaned towards
+any other woman!
+
+And yet--yet--_Littsdorf_!
+
+The writer of the paragraph must evidently have visited the place, to
+collect the names, dates, and inscriptions on the lonely grave of his
+mother in the little _Friedhof_. Chance might have taken him there; but
+could chance connect the name of R---- with the name of Percivale?
+
+In comparison with the horror of this thought, the publication of this
+strange hash of truth and falsehood troubled him but little. Too many
+false reports of him had been circulated for the public to pay much
+extra heed to this last. If Henry Fowler questioned him, he could easily
+tell him the truth; but this thought--this ghastly chill which crept
+over him--this horrible suspicion that his wife had discussed the
+innermost core of her husband's heart with some casual acquaintance!
+
+It was not true. It could not be. It must not be, or there seemed an end
+to all possibility of living on in the shattered temple of his broken
+idol. No! It must be some other way; some strange, marvellous
+coincidence must be at the root of it.
+
+He would go to his darling and look her in the face--feel the pressure
+of her little hand, and curse himself for the unworthiness of his
+thought.
+
+With a strenuous effort, he steadied himself mentally and struggled for
+his habitual calm. He determined not to go to his wife in the present
+excited condition of his nerves, lest he might say something which he
+should regret. He had not yet fully considered the bearings of the
+subject. Perhaps after all his fear was groundless. Was not some other
+solution possible?
+
+Again he went out into the night, and for half-an-hour his restless feet
+trod the terrace, up and down, up and down, while he tried to banish
+suspicion.
+
+What a coward and traitor was the man who could doubt his own wife
+without proof! Anything else might happen--a miracle might have revealed
+the closely hidden secret; anything but _that_.
+
+The big hall clock striking midnight made him start. He must go indoors
+or he would waken Elsa, and nothing so put her out of temper as to be
+waked from her first sleep.
+
+He went indoors, shutting out the hot and heavy darkness of the night
+with a sigh almost of relief, drew the bolts into their places,
+extinguished the hall lamp, and quietly went upstairs through the silent
+house.
+
+He expected to find his room in darkness, but, rather to his surprise,
+lights were burning, and Elsa sat in an armchair, reading a novel. She
+glanced up, and yawned as he entered.
+
+The room was transformed since the arrival of Mrs. Percivale's trunks
+and Mrs. Percivale's maid. A mass of various articles of apparel strewed
+the chairs and sofa, the dressing table groaned under its load of
+silver-topped essence-bottles, ivory brushes, hair-curling apparatus,
+and so forth. The mantel-piece was adorned with knick-knack frames
+containing photographs of a certain tenor who sang in the opera in
+Paris, and for whom Elsa had conceived a violent admiration.
+
+The young lady herself was in _deshabille_; she never looked more
+beautiful than when half-dressed. She wore a white embroidered petticoat
+and low bodice, much trimmed with lace. Her golden hair streamed all
+over her creamy neck and arms.
+
+Tossing away her book, she yawned and laughed, lifting said arms and
+folding them behind her head.
+
+"Oh, is it you? Just fancy! How late it is. I was so tired of trying to
+undress myself, for Mathilde went to bed the minute she arrived, and I
+won't let old Jane touch me. So I felt so hot, and I sat down to rest;
+and this book was so fascinating that" (yawn) "I've been reading ever
+since." The last five words were almost lost in a large yawn. "Isn't it
+hot, Leon?"
+
+"Very," he said, as he closed the door, and, drawing up a chair, took a
+seat at her side. "I am glad you are up still, though. I was afraid I
+should wake you."
+
+"No; I am not very sleepy. I feel inclined to sit up and finish my
+book."
+
+"Sit up and talk to me instead," he said, taking one of her hands in
+his, and looking down lovingly at its slender grace. "The coming back to
+this place has put me in mind of so many things, my darling, I have been
+remembering the night--just such a night as this--when I saw you lying
+asleep on Miss Ellen's bed, dressed in blue----"
+
+"Oh, yes!" her laugh broke in. "That fearful old dressing-gown of Aunt
+Ellen's! What a fright I felt! I was so ashamed for you to see me. It
+had shrunk in the wash. Did you notice?"
+
+"My own, I thought you were the most perfect creature I had ever looked
+upon--as I think still."
+
+"It is rather disappointing, Leon, to find that you don't like me a bit
+better, now that I really do dress properly, than when I was such a
+frump. Look at that now," indicating, with a white satin-shod foot, the
+wondrous toilette she had worn that evening, which lay across a chair
+near. "That really _is_ pretty, if you like; but it is nonsense to tell
+me that I looked well in that old blue dressing-gown."
+
+"I tell you that you looked lovely--lovely! There you lay, calmly
+sleeping, with your life shadowed over by a false accusation!" Falling
+on his knees beside her chair, he caught her in his arms in an
+irresistible access of love. Could he suspect her--he, the champion of
+her innocence when everyone else forsook her?
+
+His head, with its soft curls, lay against her neck. In a passing
+impulse of affection, begotten of the novel she had been reading, she
+bent down, kissed him, and stroked his hair.
+
+"Be a good boy, and don't suffocate me quite," said she. "It is very hot
+to-night."
+
+He did not lift his head, but still clasped her close.
+
+"Elsa, my sweet," he said, "I am ashamed to look in your face. I feel a
+traitor; I have been thinking evil of you, my heart! I want to
+confess--to tell you of it. May I?"
+
+"I"--yawn--"suppose so. Yes. But don't be long. I think I'll go to bed
+now."
+
+"To think that I was mean enough, poor-spirited enough, in face of a few
+suspicious circumstances, to dream that my wife would break her word to
+me, would shatter my trust in her, by talking of my private affairs, of
+the secret which I gave her to guard----"
+
+He felt the girl start in his arms, and a corresponding thrill, a sudden
+sense of horror, went through him. Letting her go out of his clasp, and
+lifting his eyes to her face, he saw her crimson from brow to chin.
+
+"What made you say that, Leon?" she asked sharply.
+
+"This," he said, as, scarcely knowing what he did, he laid the paper on
+her knee.
+
+She took it up and read it quickly through, the color ebbing and coming
+as she sat.
+
+His heart was beating so fast he could hardly breathe, his whole soul
+sick with an awful fear. The paper fell on her lap, and she remained
+still, as if not knowing what to say.
+
+"Elsa," he cried, "how could those words have been written unless the
+writer of them knew--what you know?"
+
+The girl tossed the paper from her, flinging herself back in her chair
+defiantly.
+
+"That mean, hateful woman," she cried, with passion. "She deserves--what
+does she not deserve?--when she solemnly vowed to me not to tell a
+soul----"
+
+She stopped short, the words died away. The blaze in Percivale's eyes
+seemed to wither and strike her dumb.
+
+"Elsa!" Rising, he stood before her, laying his hands on her shoulders.
+"Do you mean to tell me that you have been speaking of what should be
+sacred in your eyes--no, no! Consider what you are saying."
+
+"Nonsense, Leon!" Angry tears sprang to her eyes. "Let go of me--you
+hurt! You speak as if I were a criminal."
+
+His face, as his hold relaxed and stepped back, was pitiful to behold.
+
+"To a woman," he said. "To what woman?"
+
+"To that odious Mrs. Orton."
+
+"Elsa, you are mad! _Mrs. Orton?_"
+
+"Leon, you don't know what hateful things she said of you. She said she
+knew them for facts. I was obliged to tell her the real truth, I could
+not stand to have her pitying me, and telling me she knew better than I
+did. And she declared she would not tell. I made her promise."
+
+He laughed harshly.
+
+"So, though you could betray your husband's confidence, you did not
+think that she could betray yours! Oh, Elsa! Elsa!... God help me!"
+
+"Leon, it is very inconsiderate and unkind of you to frighten me so!
+I--I--shall faint or something. What harm so very great have I done?
+They often put stories about you in the papers. Nobody will know that
+this is true."
+
+"The world may know, for aught I care. What is the world to me? Less
+than nothing. All my life I have never valued public opinion. I could
+bear with perfect fortitude to be an outlaw--tabooed by society, if--if
+I knew there lived on earth one woman I could trust."
+
+He went to the window. The purple darkness outside seemed in sympathy
+with him. The verbena scent welled up in waves of perfume. Elsa began to
+cry bitterly, and then to let fall a torrent of excuses.
+
+She had done it for him, because she hated to hear a spiteful woman
+speak ill of him. It was because she loved him so that she had been
+tempted; and there was no great harm done, and now he spoke to her as if
+she were a dog. He was unkind, he terrified her. She would not bear to
+be so scolded, she was not a child any more, etc.
+
+Through it all Percivale stood immovable by the window, wondering what
+could possibly happen next. He felt rather like a man who, having
+received his death-blow, awaits with a dumb patience the moment when
+death itself shall follow. Was this woman really the Elsa of his
+adoration? Had he indeed to this slight, trifling, deceitful nature
+surrendered himself body and soul as a slave? How could he live on, a
+long life through, with a wife whom he despised?
+
+Despised? His feeling came nearer to loathing than to contempt as he
+looked at her. Her very beauty sickened him--the outer covering which
+had won his fancy. He hated himself for ever having loved her.
+
+She could not see that it was the act itself, not the consequences of
+it, which he so condemned. So small was her nature that she was unable
+even to comprehend her transgression. He could not make her understand
+the horror with which he must regard such a breach of trust.
+
+"There was no great harm done?" was her cry.
+
+"Harm!" he said, brokenly. "There is murder done. You have killed my
+faith, Elsa, for ever more."
+
+"It is very rude and unkind to say that you will never tell me anything
+again, just because I let out this one thing. And I only told one
+person. I never so much as mentioned it to anyone else. I might have
+published it all over London, to hear you talk!"
+
+It was impossible to answer a speech like this. She had _only_ betrayed
+him to one person! She had _not so much as mentioned it_ to anyone else!
+And this was his wife, his ideal!
+
+Claud Cranmer had said,
+
+"If you wish to preserve your ideal, you must not marry her."
+
+He sank into a chair, covered his face, and groaned.
+
+"Come, Leon, don't behave like that--you are the most unreasonable
+person I ever met!" cried Elsa. "Go away, please, to your dressing-room,
+and leave me alone. I want to go to bed. You have made me cry so that my
+eyes are scarlet, and my head feels like lead. I think you are extremely
+unkind; when I have told you I am very sorry, and begged you pardon. I
+don't see what more I can do."
+
+"No, Elsa," he said, rising, "you can do nothing more. You cannot make
+yourself a different woman; and nothing short of that would avail to
+help us much."
+
+He passed her without looking at her, and shut himself into his
+dressing-room.
+
+His wife crossed the room, and stared at herself in the glass.
+
+"I know my eye-lids will be all swelled to-morrow," she thought, with a
+keen sense of injury. "I never saw Leon in such a rage. I hope he will
+soon get over it. I don't think he is a very good-tempered man; I call
+him rather sulky. Osmond was much greater fun."
+
+A few minutes after she was in bed, the door opened and Percivale came
+in. He had changed his dress clothes for his yachting suit, and his cap
+was in his hand.
+
+"Leon! Are you mad?" cried Elsa.
+
+"I think not," he said, gravely, as he came to her bedside,
+"but--but--Elsa, forgive me, I cannot stay here and go on as if nothing
+had happened. You have given me too severe a shock for me to recover
+from all at once."
+
+"Leon, what nonsense! You talk in such a strange way sometimes I think
+you cannot be quite right in your head. I do not understand you."
+
+"No," he said, his voice almost a cry, "that is the trouble, Elsa. You
+do not understood me. I have not understood you either. I have been
+mistaken. I was ignorant of life. I did not know you, and now that,
+suddenly, I have seen you _as you are_, and not as I fancied you, I must
+have time to grow used to the idea. Poor child, poor child! You could
+not help it. It is I who am to blame, far more than you. Forgive me that
+I expected too much."
+
+"What are you going to do? Go away and leave me alone here with the
+aunts for a punishment?"
+
+"I am going to take the yacht round to Clovelly for Lady Mabel, as was
+suggested. It will not be very long, and by the time I come back I shall
+be calmer. I shall be able to face this new aspect of things better.
+Elsa, Elsa, have you no word for me--nothing to heal the wound you have
+made? Do you not see, my child, what you have done? Can't you realize
+how despicable a part you have played! Elsa, face this conduct of
+yours--what should you say of another man's wife who had betrayed her
+husband's confidence to his enemy--abused the trust confided to her? Can
+you not even see the nature of your fault as it is?"
+
+"I have said I am sorry, and I will say it again if it will please you.
+I know it was stupid to tell her. I thought so several times afterwards.
+I did not like to tell you; but I do think you make too much fuss, Leon.
+A thing is out before you know it, but I can't see that it is such a sin
+as you want to make out."
+
+He tried no more. He bowed his head to utter failure.
+
+Stooping, he gently put his lips to his wife's pure brow, shaded with
+its innocent-looking curls of gold.
+
+"Poor child," he said, tenderly, "poor, beautiful child. Sleep, Elsa, I
+must not keep you awake, or make you grieve. It would spoil your beauty;
+and it is your mission to be beautiful. Good-night!--good-night! I am
+not angry with you."
+
+"Then why do you go rushing off in the middle of the night instead of
+coming to bed like a Christian?" she cried, pitifully. "Leon, Leon, why
+are you so strange--so unaccountable! You make me so unhappy--without my
+knowing why! You--you are--so very _very_ hard on me!" Suddenly she
+burst into a passion of tears. Lifting herself from her pillows, she
+cast both arms round him, clinging to him. "I--I do love you," she
+gasped, "don't be so cruel to me, don't!" The tears welled up in the
+young man's beautiful eyes in sympathetic response.
+
+He drew the lovely head down upon his breast, and soothed her with
+infinite compassion. Like Arthur, the stainless gentleman whose wife had
+failed him in another--a worse way--"his vast pity almost made him die,"
+as he held her closely, caressing her like a child until her sobs had
+ceased.
+
+"You are not angry any more?" she asked at last, lifting her wet
+eye-lashes with a wistful, appealing glance.
+
+"No, Elsa, no. I am not angry. I am penitent. There is no need to make
+yourself unhappy. Go to sleep."
+
+"I am very sleepy," she sighed, "but you will wake me if you move me."
+
+"I will sit here until you sleep."
+
+"Thank you. You are a good, dear boy. Good-night, Leon."
+
+"Good-night, Elsa."
+
+There was stillness in the room--utter stillness as at last Percivale
+laid his sleeping wife down, and, bending over her, bestowed a parting
+kiss.
+
+He felt somewhat as a man who gazes upon the dead form of one beloved.
+
+His dream-Elsa was a thing of the past--vanished, dead.
+
+What would the fresh life be like which he must begin with her? A life
+of strain--of the heavy knowledge that never while he lived could he
+hope for sympathy, could he satisfy the mighty craving of his soul for a
+wife who should be to him what Claud Cranmer's wife was to her husband.
+
+Everything was changed.
+
+Never, in all his solitary youth, in all the remote wanderings of the
+_Swan_, not even when he laid to rest his tutor, the one friend of his
+childhood, had he felt the terror of loneliness as he felt it now. It
+was grey dawn when he came down to the beach. Mueller, who was on the
+look-out, saw the misty figure of his master standing upon the shore,
+and at once launched the gig and took him on board.
+
+With the gradual dawn, a faint breeze sprang up and lifted the mist that
+hung over the sea.
+
+It filled the _Swan's_ white wings as it rose and freshened, and just as
+the sun rose, she sailed out of the bay, her master, silent and pallid,
+standing on the deck, watching the dim roof which covered his perished
+hopes.
+
+There lay the Lower House, snug in the valley. He sent an unspoken
+farewell to the good Henry, and to the happy husband and wife who were
+probably just awaking to a fresh day of love and hope and mutual help.
+
+The warm sun-rays gilded Percivale's bright head, and glorified the
+still features as he stood. Old Mueller looked anxiously at him.
+Something was wrong, he guessed, and yet--oh, the joy to be putting to
+sea again as in old days, free and untrammelled by the fashionable wife
+or the sick maid!
+
+The old man's spirit leaped up with the red sun. His blood rose, his eye
+kindled.
+
+The bonnie yacht bounded over the freshening waves, the day laughed
+broadly over the sea, and the crew, animated by Mueller's delight, sang
+their _Volkslieder_ as they went about their work.
+
+That night, the last sultry heat of autumn burst in a storm more violent
+than Edge Combe had known for half a century. The first of the
+equinoctial gales raged from the south west, thundering against the
+battlemented crags of Cornwall, shrieking up the Devonshire valleys.
+
+More than one large ship went to pieces on the wild coast; and fragments
+of wrecks were washed ashore at Brent and in Edge Bay.
+
+But no trace of the _Swan_ or of any of those on board of her was ever
+carried by the relentless ocean within reach of the hearts that ached
+and longed for tidings of her fate. She had vanished as she had first
+appeared, mysteriously, in a tempest.
+
+To the fisher-folk there seemed to be something supernatural alike in
+her arrival and her disappearance.
+
+For months they cherished among themselves the belief that she would
+return one day--that somewhere, in some distant port, or in far sunny
+seas she was gliding like a big white bird along her mysterious course.
+
+They argued that some trace of her must have come ashore somewhere--she
+was cruising so near the coast, some fragment of her must have been
+washed up at some point--some dead sailor have been floated in on the
+tide wearing the white _Swan_ worked on his jersey, to be a silent
+witness of the destruction of the yacht.
+
+But no! No news, no sign, no trace of her end was ever forthcoming. She
+seemed to have melted away like a mythical ship into the regions of
+legend.
+
+And it has now become a tradition in the Combe that if ever the day
+should come when some wrong done there shall cry aloud for justice, and
+there is none to help, that, on that day, will be seen the white _Swan_
+sailing into the bay in the sunshine, and her owner standing on her deck
+like a hero of ancient story, as he stood when first he approached the
+Valley of Avilion ready to champion the Truth.
+
+
+THE END.
+
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+
+THE CURSE OF CARNE'S HOLD,
+
+A STORY OF ADVENTURE.
+
+
+From our perusal of the book we have no hesitation in declaring that the
+Story will be enjoyed by all classes of Readers. Their sympathies will
+be at once aroused in the characters first introduced to their notice,
+and in the circumstances attending a lamentable catastrophe, which
+breaks up a happy household in grief and despair. The hero of the story,
+broken-hearted and despairing, flees to the Cape, determined if possible
+to lose his life in battle. He joins the Cape Mounted Rifles, and in
+active service finds the best solace for his dejected spirits. Romance
+is again infused into his life by his success in rescuing from the
+Kaffirs a young and beautiful lady, whom he gallantly bears on horseback
+beyond reach of their spears.
+
+From this point the Story takes up novel and startling developments. The
+hero's affairs in the old country are adjusted by a surprising
+discovery, and "The Curse of Carne's Hold" is brought to a happy and
+satisfactory conclusion.
+
+Few authors possess in so eminent a degree as Mr. G. A. Henty the
+ability to produce stories full of thrilling situations, while at the
+same time preserving and inculcating a high moral tone throughout. As a
+writer of stories fitted for the home circle he is surpassed by none.
+His books for boys have gained for him an honoured place in parent's
+hearts. Whilst satisfying the youthful longing for adventures they
+inspire admiration for straightforwardness, truth and courage, never
+exceed the bounds of veracity, and in many ways are highly instructive.
+From the first word to the last they are interesting--full of go,
+freshness and verve. Mr. Henty fortunately for his readers, had an
+extensive personal experience of adventures and "moving accidents by
+flood and field," while acting as war correspondent. He has a vivid and
+picturesque style of narrative, and we have reason to say "The Curse of
+Carne's Hold" is written in his very best style.
+
+
+
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+
+
+
+Transcriber's note:
+
+Variations in hyphens left as printed.
+
+
+
+***END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE TREE OF KNOWLEDGE***
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+Project Gutenberg (https://www.gutenberg.org) public repository for
+eBook #39366 (https://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/39366)
author	Roger Frank <rfrank@pglaf.org>	2025-10-14 20:12:35 -0700
committer	Roger Frank <rfrank@pglaf.org>	2025-10-14 20:12:35 -0700
commit	de7fe81bdfb11d23e31dfedd06d0c67d8c4f1a87 (patch)
tree	75d86a5b10cc907c48be431ac927e9f1303bef57