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diff --git a/41599-8.txt b/41599-8.txt deleted file mode 100644 index 8c4d853..0000000 --- a/41599-8.txt +++ /dev/null @@ -1,6537 +0,0 @@ -The Project Gutenberg EBook of Mr. Witt's Widow, by Anthony Hope - -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: Mr. Witt's Widow - A Frivolous Tale - -Author: Anthony Hope - -Release Date: December 10, 2012 [EBook #41599] - -Language: English - -Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1 - -*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK MR. WITT'S WIDOW *** - - - - -Produced by eagkw, Suzanne Shell and the Online Distributed -Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net (This file was -produced from images generously made available by The -Internet Archive/Canadian Libraries) - - - - - - - - MR. WITT'S WIDOW - - - - - [Illustration: "Neaera was no longer in a condition to decide - anything. Tears were her ready refuge in time of trouble, and she - was picturesquely weeping." (Page 203.) - - _Mr. Witt's Widow_] [_Frontispiece_] - - - - - MR. WITT'S WIDOW. - _A FRIVOLOUS TALE._ - - BY - ANTHONY HOPE, - AUTHOR OF "THE PRISONER OF ZENDA," "RUPERT OF HENTZAU," - "PHROSO," ETC., ETC. - - "Habent sua fata--cothurni." - - WARD, LOCK & CO., LIMITED - LONDON, MELBOURNE AND TORONTO - 1912. - - - - -CONTENTS. - - - CHAPTER PAGE - - I. HOW GEORGE NESTON JUMPED 1 - - II. WHY GEORGE NESTON JUMPED 15 - - III. "WHAT ARE QUARTER SESSIONS?" 26 - - IV. A SERPENT IN EDEN 38 - - V. THE FIRST PARAGRAPH--AND OTHERS 52 - - VI. A SUCCESSFUL ORDEAL 65 - - VII. AN IMPOSSIBLE BARGAIN 82 - - VIII. THE FRACAS AT MRS. POCKLINGTON'S 95 - - IX. GERALD NESTON SATISFIES HIMSELF 109 - - X. REMINISCENCES OF A NOBLEMAN 122 - - XI. PRESENTING AN HONEST WOMAN 136 - - XII. NOT BEFORE THOSE GIRLS! 150 - - XIII. CONTAINING MORE THAN ONE ULTIMATIUM 162 - - XIV. NEAERA'S LAST CARD 172 - - XV. A LETTER FOR MR. GERALD 183 - - XVI. THERE IS AN EXPLOSION 197 - - XVII. LAURA DIFFERS 208 - - XVIII. GEORGE NEARLY GOES TO BRIGHTON 219 - - XIX. SOME ONE TO SPEAK TO 227 - - XX. FATE'S INSTRUMENTS 237 - - - - -MR. WITT'S WIDOW. - - - - -CHAPTER I. - -HOW GEORGE NESTON JUMPED. - - -The Nestons, of Tottlebury Grange in the county of Suffolk, were an -ancient and honourable family, never very distinguished or very rich, -but yet for many generations back always richer and more distinguished -than the common run of mankind. The men had been for the most part able -and upright, tenacious of their claims, and mindful of their duties; the -women had respected their betters, exacted respect from their inferiors, -and educated their brothers' wives in the Neston ways; and the whole -race, while confessing individual frailties, would have been puzzled to -point out how, as a family, it had failed to live up to the position in -which Providence and the Constitution had placed it. The error, if any, -had indeed been on the other side in one or two cases. The last owner -of the Grange, a gay old bachelor, had scorned the limits of his rents -and his banking-account, and added victories on the turf to the family -laurels at a heavy cost to the family revenues. His sudden death had -been mourned as a personal loss, but silently acknowledged as a dynastic -gain, and ten years of the methodical rule of his brother Roger had gone -far to efface the ravages of his merry reign. The younger sons of the -Nestons served the State or adorned the professions, and Roger had spent -a long and useful life in the Office of Commerce. He had been a valuable -official, and his merits had not gone unappreciated. Fame he had neither -sought nor attained, and his name had come but little before the public, -its rare appearances in the newspapers generally occurring on days when -our Gracious Sovereign completed another year of her beneficent life, -and was pleased to mark the occasion by conferring honour on Mr. Roger -Neston. When this happened, all the leader-writers looked him up in "Men -of the Time," or "Whitaker," or some other standard work of reference, -and remarked that few appointments would meet with more universal public -approval, a proposition which the public must be taken to have endorsed -with tacit unanimity. - -Mr. Neston went on his way, undisturbed by his moments of notoriety, -but quietly pleased with his red ribbon, and, when he entered into -possession of the family estate, continued to go to the office with -unabated regularity. At last he reached the pinnacle of his particular -ambition, and, as Permanent Head of his Department, for fifteen years -took a large share in the government of a people almost unconscious of -his existence, until the moment when it saw the announcement that on his -retirement he had been raised to the peerage by the title of Baron -Tottlebury. Then the chorus of approval broke forth once again, and the -new lord had many friendly pats on the back he was turning to public -life. Henceforth he sat silent in the House of Lords, and wrote letters -to the _Times_ on subjects which the cares of office had not previously -left him leisure to study. - -But fortune was not yet tired of smiling on the Nestons. Lord -Tottlebury, before accepting his new dignity, had impressed upon his -son Gerald the necessity of seeking the wherewith to gild the coronet -by a judicious marriage. Gerald was by no means loth. He had never made -much progress at the Bar, and felt that his want of success contrasted -unfavourably with the growing practice of his cousin George, a state of -things very unfitting, as George represented a younger branch than -Gerald. A rich marriage, combined with his father's improved position, -opened to him prospects of a career of public distinction, and, what was -more important, of private leisure, better fitted to his tastes and less -trying to his patience; and, by an unusual bit of luck, he was saved -from any scruples about marrying for money by the fact that he was -already desperately in love with a very rich woman. She was of no high -birth, it is true, and she was the widow of a Manchester merchant; but -this same merchant, to the disgust of his own relatives, had left her -five thousand a year at her absolute disposal. The last fact easily -outweighed the two first in Lord Tottlebury's mind, while Gerald rested -his action on the sole ground that Neaera Witt was the prettiest girl in -London, and, by Jove, he believed in the world; only, of course, if she -had money too, all the better. - -Accordingly, the engagement was an accomplished fact. Mrs. Witt had -shown no more than a graceful disinclination to become Mrs. Neston. At -twenty-five perpetual devotion to the memory of such a mere episode as -her first marriage had been was neither to be desired nor expected, -and Neaera was very frankly in love with Gerald Neston, a handsome, -open-faced, strapping fellow, who won her heart mainly because he was so -very unlike the late Mr. Witt. Everybody envied Gerald, and everybody -congratulated Neaera on having escaped the various chasms that are -supposed to yawn in the path of rich young widows. The engagement was -announced once, and contradicted as premature, and then announced again; -and, in a word, everything pursued its pleasant and accustomed course in -these matters. Finally, Lord Tottlebury in due form entertained Mrs. -Witt at dinner, by way of initiation into the Neston mysteries. - -It was for this dinner that Mr. George Neston, barrister-at-law, -was putting on his white tie one May evening in his chambers off -Piccadilly. George was the son of Lord Tottlebury's younger brother. -His father had died on service in India, leaving a wife, who survived -him but a few years, and one small boy, who had developed into a rising -lawyer of two or three-and-thirty, and was at this moment employed in -thinking what a lucky dog Gerald was, if all people said about Mrs. Witt -were true. Not that George envied his cousin his bride. His roving days -were over. He had found what he wanted for himself, and Mrs. Witt's -beauty, if she were beautiful, was nothing to him. So he thought with -mingled joy and resignation. Still, however much you may be in love with -somebody else, a pretty girl with five thousand a year is luck, and -there's an end of it! So concluded George Neston as he got into his -hansom, and drove to Portman Square. - -The party was but small, for the Nestons were not one of those families -that ramify into bewildering growths of cousins. Lord Tottlebury of -course was there, a tall, spare, rather stern-looking man, and his -daughter Maud, a bright and pretty girl of twenty, and Gerald, in a -flutter ill concealed by the very extravagance of _nonchalance_. Then -there were a couple of aunts and a male cousin and his wife, and George -himself. Three of the guests were friends, not relatives. Mrs. Bourne -had been the chosen intimate of Lord Tottlebury's dead wife, and -he honoured his wife's memory by constant attention to her friend. -Mrs. Bourne brought her daughter Isabel, and Isabel had come full of -curiosity to see Mrs. Witt, and also hoping to see George Neston, for -did she not know what pleasure it would give him to meet her? Lastly, -there towered on the rug the huge form of Mr. Blodwell, Q.C., an old -friend of Lord Tottlebury's and George's first tutor and kindly guide in -the law, famous for rasping speeches in court and good stories out of -it, famous, too, as one of the tallest men and quite the fattest man at -the Bar. Only Neaera Witt was wanting, and before Mr. Blodwell had got -well into the famous story about Baron Samuel and the dun cow Neaera -Witt was announced. - -Mrs. Witt's widowhood was only two years old, and she was at this time -almost unknown to society. None of the party, except Gerald and his -father, had seen her, and they all looked with interest to the door when -the butler announced her name. She had put off her mourning altogether -for the first time, and came in clothed in a gown of deep red, with a -long train that gave her dignity, her golden hair massed low on her -neck, and her pale, clear complexion just tinged with the suspicion of a -blush as she instinctively glanced round for her lover. The entry was, -no doubt, a small triumph. The girls were lost in generous admiration; -the men were startled; and Mr. Blodwell, finishing the evening at the -House of Commons, remarked to young Sidmouth Vane, the Lord President's -private secretary (unpaid), "I hope, my boy, you may live as long as I -have, and see as many pretty women; but you'll never see a prettier than -Mrs. Witt. Her face! her hair! and Vane, my boy, her waist!" But here -the division-bell rang, and Mr. Blodwell hastened off to vote against -a proposal aimed at deteriorating, under the specious pretence of -cheapening, the administration of justice. - -Lord Tottlebury, advancing to meet Neaera, took her by the hand and -proudly presented her to his guests. She greeted each gracefully and -graciously until she came to George Neston. As she saw his solid jaw -and clean-shaved keen face, a sudden light that looked like recollection -leaped to her eyes, and her cheek flushed a little. The change was so -distinct that George was confirmed in the fancy he had had from the -first moment she came in, that somewhere before he had seen that golden -hair and those dark eyes, that combination of harmonious opposites that -made her beauty no less special in kind than in degree. He advanced a -step, his hand held half out, exclaiming-- - -"Surely----" - -But there he stopped dead, and his hand fell to his side, for all signs -of recognition had faded from Mrs. Witt's face, and she gave him only -the same modestly gracious bow that she had bestowed on the rest of the -party. The incident was over, leaving George sorely puzzled, and Lord -Tottlebury a little startled. Gerald had seen nothing, having been -employed in issuing orders for the march in to dinner. - -The dinner was a success. Lord Tottlebury unbent; he was very cordial -and, at moments, almost jovial. Gerald was in heaven, or at least -sitting directly opposite and in full view of it. Mr. Blodwell enjoyed -himself immensely: his classic stories had never yet won so pleasant a -reward as Neaera's low rich laugh and dancing eyes. George ought to have -enjoyed himself, for he was next to Isabel Bourne, and Isabel, heartily -recognising that she was not to-night, as, to do her justice, she often -was, the prettiest girl in the room, took the more pains to be kind and -amusing. But George was ransacking the lumber-rooms of memory, or, to -put it less figuratively, wondering, and growing exasperated as he -wondered in vain, where the deuce he'd seen the girl before. Once or -twice his eyes met hers, and it seemed to him that he had caught her -casting an inquiring apprehensive glance at him. When she saw that he -was looking, her expression changed into one of friendly interest, -appropriate to the examination of a prospective kinsman. - -"What do you think of her?" asked Isabel Bourne, in a low voice. -"Beautiful, isn't she?" - -"She is indeed," George answered, "I can't help thinking I've seen her -somewhere before." - -"She is a person one would remember, isn't she? Was it in Manchester?" - -"I don't think so. I haven't been in Manchester more than two or three -times in my life." - -"Well, Maud says Mrs. Witt wasn't brought up there." - -"Where was she brought up?" - -"I don't know," said Isabel, "and I don't think Maud knew either. -I asked Gerald, and he said she probably dropped down from heaven -somewhere a few years ago." - -"Perhaps that's how I come to remember her," suggested George. - -Failing this explanation, he confessed himself puzzled, and determined -to dismiss the matter from his thoughts for the present. Aided by Isabel -Bourne, he was very successful in this effort: a pretty girl's company -is the best modern substitute for the waters of Lethe. - -Nevertheless, his interest remained strong enough to make him join the -group which Gerald and Mr. Blodwell formed with Neaera as soon as the -men went upstairs. Mr. Blodwell made no secret of the fact that it was -with him a case of love at first sight, and openly regretted that his -years prevented him fighting Gerald for his prize. Gerald listened -with the complacent happiness of a secure lover, and Neaera gravely -apologised for not having waited to make her choice till she had seen -Mr. Blodwell. - -"But at least you had heard of me?" he urged. - -"I am terribly ignorant," she said. "I don't believe I ever did." - -"Neaera's not one of the criminal classes, you see, sir," Gerald put in. - -"He taunts me," exclaimed Mr. Blodwell, "with the Old Bailey!" - -George had come up in time to hear the last two remarks. Neaera saw him, -and smiled pleasantly. - -"Here's a young lady who knows nothing about the law, George," continued -Blodwell. "She never heard of me--nor of you either, I dare say. It -reminds me of what they used to say about old Dawkins. Old Daw never -had a brief, but he was Recorder of some little borough or other--place -with a prisoner once in two years, you know--I forget the name. Let's -see--yes, Peckton." - -"Peckton!" exclaimed George Neston, loudly and abruptly. - -Neaera made a sudden motion with one hand--a sudden motion suddenly -checked--and her fan dropped with a clatter on the polished boards. - -Gerald dived for it, so did Mr. Blodwell, and their heads came in -contact with such violence as to drive all reminiscences of Recorder -Dawkins out of Mr. Blodwell's brain. They were still indulging in -recriminations, when Neaera swiftly left them, crossed to Lord -Tottlebury, and took her leave. - -George went to open the door for her. She looked at him curiously. - -"Will you come and see me, Mr. Neston?" she asked. - -He bowed gravely, answering nothing. - -The party broke up, and as George was seeing Mr. Blodwell's bulk fitted -into a four-wheeler, the old gentleman asked, - -"Why did you do that, George?" - -"What?" - -"Jump, when I said Peckton." - -"Oh, I used to go sessions there, you know." - -"Do you always jump when people mention the places you used to go -sessions at?" - -"Generally," replied George. - -"I see," said Mr. Blodwell, lighting his cigar. "A bad habit, George; it -excites remark. Tell him the House." - -"Good night, sir," said George. "I hope your head is better." - -Mr. Blodwell snorted indignantly as he pulled up the window, and was -driven away to his duties. - - - - -CHAPTER II. - -WHY GEORGE NESTON JUMPED. - - -"How could I ever have forgotten?" said George, aloud, as he walked -home. "I remember her now as if it was yesterday." - -Memory, like much else that appertains to man, is a queer thing, and the -name of Peckton had supplied the one link missing in his recollection. -How, indeed, had he ever forgotten it? Can a man forget his first brief -any more than his first love?--so like are they in their infinite -promise, so like in their very finite results! - -The picture was now complete in his mind: the little, muggy court at -Peckton; old Dawkins, his wig black with age, the rest of him brown with -snuff; the fussy clerk; the prosecuting counsel, son to the same fussy -clerk; he himself, thrusting his first guinea into his pocket with -shaking hand and beating heart (nervous before old Daw! Imagine!); the -fat, peaceful policeman; the female warder, in her black straw-bonnet -trimmed with dark-blue ribbons; and last of all, in the dock, a young -girl, in shabby, nay, greasy, black, with pale cheeks, disordered hair, -and swollen eyelids, gazing in blank terror on the majesty of the law, -strangely expressed in the Recorder's ancient person. And, beyond all -doubt or imagination of a doubt, the girl was Gerald's bride, Neaera -Witt. - -"I could swear to her to-day!" cried George. - -She had scraped together a guinea for his fee. "I don't know where she -got it from," the fat policeman said with professional cynicism as he -gave it to George. "She pleads guilty and wants you to address the -court." So George had, with infinite trepidation, addressed the court. - -The girl had a father--drunk when not starving, and starving when not -drunk. Now he was starving, and she had stolen the shoes (oh! the -sordidness of it all!) to pawn, and buy food--or drink. It was a case -for a caution merely--and--and--and George himself, being young to the -work, stammered and stuttered as much from emotion as from fright. You -see the girl was pretty! - -All old Daw said was, "Do you know anything about her, policeman?" and -the fat policeman said her father was a bad lot, and the girl did no -work, and---- - -"That's enough," said old Daw; and, leaning forward, he pronounced his -sentence: - -"I'll deal lightly with you. Only"--shaking a snuffy forefinger--"take -care you don't come here again! One calendar month, with hard labour." - -And the girl, gazing back at honest old Daw, who would not have hurt a -fly except from the Bench, softly murmured, "Cruel, cruel, cruel!" and -was led away by the woman in the black straw bonnet. - -Whereupon George did a very unprofessional thing. He gave his guinea, -his firstborn son, back to the fat policeman, saying, "Give it her when -she comes out. I can't take her money." At which the policeman smiled a -smile that convicted George of terrible youthfulness. - -It was all complete--all except the name by which the fussy clerk had -called on the girl to plead, and which old Dawkins had mumbled out -in sentencing her. That utterly escaped him. He was sure it was not -"Neaera"--of course not "Neaera Witt;" but not "Neaera Anything," -either. He would have remembered "Neaera." - -"What on earth was it?" he asked himself as he unlocked his door and -went upstairs. "Not that it matters much. Names are easily changed." - -George Neston shared his chambers in Half Moon Street with the -Honourable Thomas Buchanan Fillingham Myles, commonly known (as the -peerage has it) as Tommy Myles. Tommy also had a small room in the -Temple Chambers, where the two Nestons and Mr. Blodwell pursued their -livelihood; but Tommy's appearances at the latter resort were few and -brief. He did not trouble George much in Half Moon Street either, being -a young man much given to society of all sorts, and very prone to be -in bed when most people are up, and _vice versâ_. However, to-night he -happened to be at home, and George found him with his feet on the -mantelpiece, reading the evening paper. - -"Well, what's she like?" asked Tommy. - -"She's uncommonly pretty, and very pleasant," said George. Why say more, -before his mind was made up? - -"Who was she?" pursued Tommy, rising and filling his pipe. - -"Ah! I don't know. I wish I did." - -"Don't see that it matters to you. Anybody else there?" - -"Oh, a few people." - -"Miss Bourne?" - -"Yes, she was there." - -Tommy winked, sighed prodigiously, and took a large drink of brandy and -soda. - -"Where have you been?" asked George, changing the subject. - -"Oh, to the Escurial--to a vulgar, really a very vulgar -entertainment--as vulgar as you could find in London." - -"Are you going out again?" - -"My dear George! It's close on twelve!" said Tommy, in reproving tones. - -"Or to bed?" - -"No. George, you hurt my feelings. Can it be that you wish to be -alone?" - -"Well, at any rate, hold your tongue, Tommy. I want to think." - -"Only one word. Has she been cruel?" - -"Oh, get out. Here, give me a drink." - -Tommy subsided into the _Bull's-eye_, that famous print whose motto is -_Lux in tenebris_ (meaning, of course, publicity in shady places), and -George set himself to consider what he had best do in the matter of -Neaera Witt. - -The difficulties of the situation were obvious enough, but to George's -mind they consisted not so much in the question of what to do as in that -of how to do it. He had been tolerably clear from the first that Gerald -must not marry Neaera without knowing what he could tell him; if he -liked to do it afterwards, well and good. But of course he would not. -No Neston would, thought George, who had his full share of the family -pride. Men of good family made disgraceful marriages, it is true, but -not with thieves; and anyhow nothing of the kind was recorded in the -Neston annals. How should he look his uncle and Gerald in the face if -he held his tongue? His course was very clear. Only--well, it was an -uncommonly disagreeable part to be cast for--the denouncer and exposer -of a woman who very probably was no worse than many another, and was -unquestionably a great deal better-looking than most others. The whole -position smacked unpleasantly of melodrama, and George must figure in -the character of the villain, a villain with the best motives and the -plainest duty. One hope only there was. Perhaps Mrs. Witt would see the -wisdom of a timely withdrawal. Surely she would. She could never face -the storm. Then Gerald need know nothing about it, and six months' -travel--say to America, where pretty girls live--would bind up his -broken heart. Only--again only--George did not much fancy the interview -that lay before him. Mrs. Witt would probably cry, and he would feel a -brute, and---- - -"Mr. Neston," announced Tommy's valet, opening the door. - -Gerald had followed his cousin home, very anxious to be congratulated, -and still more anxious not to appear anxious. Tommy received him with -effusion. Why hadn't he been asked to the dinner? Might he call on Mrs. -Witt? He heard she was a clipper; and so forth. George's felicitations -stuck in his throat, but he got them out, hoping that Neaera would free -him from the necessity of eating them up at some early date. Gerald was -radiant. He seemed to have forgotten all about "Peckton," though he was -loud in denouncing the unnatural hardness of Mr. Blodwell's head. Oh, -and the last thing Neaera said was, would George go and see her? - -"She took quite a fancy to you, old man," he said affectionately. "She -said you reminded her of a judge." - -George smiled. Was Neaera practising _double entente_ on her betrothed? - -"What an infernally unpleasant thing to say!" exclaimed Tommy. - -"Of course I shall go and see her," said George,--"to-morrow, if I can -find time." - -"So shall I," added Tommy. - -Gerald was pleased. He liked to see his taste endorsed with the -approbation of his friends. "It's about time old George, here, followed -suit, isn't it, Tommy? I've given him a lead." - -George's attachment to Isabel Bourne was an accepted fact among his -acquaintance. He never denied it: he did like her very much, and meant -to marry her, if she would have him. And he did not really doubt that -she would. If he had doubted, he would not have been so content to rest -without an express assurance. As it was, there was no hurry. Let the -practice grow a little more yet. He and Isabel understood one another, -and, as soon as she was ready, he was ready. But long engagements were -a nuisance to everybody. These were his feelings, and he considered -himself, by virtue of them, to be in love with Isabel. There are many -ways of being in love, and it would be a want of toleration to deny that -George's is one of them, although it is certainly very unlike some of -the others. - -Tommy agreed that George was wasting his time, and with real kindness -led Gerald back to the subject which filled his mind. - -Gerald gladly embraced the opportunity. "Where did I meet her? Oh, down -at Brighton, last winter. Then, you know, I pursued her to Manchester, -and found her living in no end of a swell villa in the outskirts of that -abominable place. Neaera hated it, but of course she had to live there -while Witt was alive, and she had kept the house on." - -"She wasn't Manchester-born, then?" - -"No. I don't know where she was born. Her father seems to have been a -romantic sort of old gentleman. He was a painter by trade--an artist, I -mean, you know,--landscapes and so on." - -"And went about looking for bits of nature to murder, eh?" asked Tommy. - -"That's about it. I don't think he was any great shakes at it. At least, -he didn't make much; and at last he settled in Manchester, and tried to -pick up a living, working for the dealers. Witt was a picture-fancier, -and, when Neaera came to sell, he saw her, and----" - -"The late Witt's romance began?" - -"Yes, confound him! I'm beastly jealous of old Witt, though he is dead." - -"That's ungrateful," remarked George, "considering----" - -"Hush! You'll wound his feelings," said Tommy. "He's forgotten all about -the cash." - -"It's all very well for you----" Gerald began. - -But George cut in, "What was his name?" - -"Witt's? Oh, Jeremiah, I believe." - -"Witt? No. Hang Witt! The father's name." - -"Oh!--Gale. A queer old boy he seems to have been--a bit of a scholar as -well as an artist." - -"That accounts for the 'Neaera,' I suppose," said Tommy. - -"Neaera Gale," thought George. "I don't remember that." - -"Pretty name, isn't it?" asked the infatuated Gerald. - -"Oh, dry up!" exclaimed Tommy. "We can't indulge you any more. Go home -to bed. You can dream about her, you know." - -Gerald accepted this hint, and retired, still in that state of confident -bliss that filled George's breast with trouble and dismay. - -"I might as well be the serpent in Eden," he said, as he lay in bed, -smoking dolefully. - - - - -CHAPTER III. - -"WHAT ARE QUARTER-SESSIONS?" - - -The atmosphere was stormy at No. 3, Indenture Buildings, Temple. It was -four o'clock, and Mr. Blodwell had come out of court in the worst of bad -tempers. He was savage with George Neston, who, being in a case with -him, had gone away and left him with nobody to tell him his facts. He -was savage with Tommy Myles, who had refused to read some papers for -him; savage with Mr. Justice Pounce, who had cut up his speech to the -jury,--Pounce, who had been his junior a hundred times!--savage with Mr. -Timms, his clerk, because he was always savage with Timms when he was -savage with other people. Tommy had fled before the storm; and now, to -Mr. Blodwell's unbounded indignation, George also was brushing his hat -with the manifest intention of departure. - -"In my time, rising juniors," said Mr. Blodwell, with sarcasm, "didn't -leave chambers at four." - -"Business," said George, putting on his gloves. - -"Women," answered his leader, briefly and scornfully. - -"It's the same thing, in this case. I am going to see Mrs. Witt." - -Mr. Blodwell's person expressed moral reprobation. George, however, -remained unmoved, and the elder man stole a sharp glance at him. - -"I don't know what's up, George," he said, "but take care of yourself." - -"Nothing's up." - -"Then why did you jump?" - -"Timms, a hansom," cried George. "I'll be in court all day to-morrow, -and keep you straight, sir." - -"In Heaven's name, do. That fellow Pounce is such a beggar for dates. -Now get out." - -Mrs. Witt was living at Albert Mansions, the "swell villa" at Manchester -having gone to join Mr. Witt in limbo. She was at home, and, as -George entered, his only prayer was that he might not find Gerald in -possession. He had no very clear idea how to proceed in his unpleasant -task. "It must depend on how she takes it," he said. Gerald was not -there, but Tommy Myles was, voluble, cheerful, and very much at home, -telling Neaera stories of her lover's school-days. George chimed in as -he best could, until Tommy rose to go, regretting the convention that -drove one man to take his hat five minutes, at the latest, after another -came in. Neaera pressed him to come again, but did not invite him to -transgress the convention. - -George almost hoped she would, for he was, as he confessed to himself, -"funking it." There were no signs of any such feeling in Neaera, and no -repetition of the appealing attitude she had seemed to take up the night -before. - -"She means to bluff me," thought George, as he watched her sit down in a -low chair by the fire, and shade her face with a large fan. - -"It is," she began, "so delightful to be welcomed by all Gerald's family -and friends so heartily. I do not feel the least like a stranger." - -"I came last night, hoping to join in that welcome," said George. - -"Oh, I did not feel that you were a stranger at all. Gerald had told me -so much about you." - -George rose, and walked to the end of the little room and back. Then he -stood looking down at his hostess. Neaera gazed pensively into the fire. -It was uncommonly difficult, but what was the good of fencing? - -"I saw you recognised me," he said, deliberately. - -"In a minute. I had seen your photograph." - -"Not only my photograph, but myself, Mrs. Witt." - -"Have I?" asked Neaera. "How rude of me to forget! Where was it? -Brighton?" - -George's heart hardened a little. Of course she would lie, poor girl. -He didn't mind that. But he did not like artistic lying, and Neaera's -struck him as artistic. - -"But are you sure?" she went on. - -George decided to try a sudden attack. "Did they ever give you that -guinea?" he said, straining his eyes to watch her face. Did she flush -or not? He really couldn't say. - -"I beg your pardon. Guinea?" - -"Come, Mrs. Witt, we needn't make it more unpleasant than necessary. -I saw you recognised me. The moment Mr. Blodwell spoke of Peckton I -recognised you. Pray don't think I mean to be hard on you. I can and do -make every allowance." - -Neaera's face expressed blank astonishment. She rose, and made a step -towards the bell. George was tickled. She had the amazing impertinence -to convey, subtly but quite distinctly, by that motion and her whole -bearing, that she thought he was drunk. - -"Ring, if you like," he said, "or, rather, ask me, if you want the bell -rung. But wouldn't it be better to settle the matter now? I don't want -to trouble Gerald." - -"I really believe you are threatening me with something," exclaimed -Neaera. "Yes, by all means. Go on." - -She motioned him to a chair, and stood above him, leaning one arm on the -mantelpiece. She breathed a little quickly, but George drew no inference -from that. - -"Eight years ago," he said, slowly, "you employed me as your counsel. -You were charged with theft--stealing a pair of shoes--at Peckton -Quarter-Sessions. You retained me at a fee of one guinea." - -Neaera was motionless, but a slight smile showed itself on her face. -"What are Quarter-Sessions?" she asked. - -"You pleaded guilty to the charge, and were sentenced to a month's -imprisonment with hard labour. The guinea I asked you about was my fee. -I gave it to that fat policeman to give back to you." - -"Excuse me, Mr. Neston, but it's really too absurd." And Neaera relaxed -her statuesque attitude, and laughed light-heartedly, deliciously. -"No wonder you were startled last night--oh, yes, I saw that--if you -identified your cousin's _fiancée_ with this criminal you're talking -about." - -"I did and do identify her." - -"Seriously?" - -"Perfectly. It would be a poor joke." - -"I never heard anything so monstrous. Do you really persist in it? I -don't know what to say." - -"Do you deny it?" - -"Deny it! I might as well deny--but of course I deny it. It's madness." - -"Then I must lay what I know before my uncle and Gerald, and leave them -to act as they think best." - -Neaera took a step forward as George rose from his seat. "Do you mean to -repeat this atrocious--this insane scandal?" - -"I think I must. I should be glad to think I had any alternative." - -Neaera raised one white hand above her head, and brought it down through -the air with a passionate gesture. - -"I warn you not!" she cried; "I warn you not!" - -George bowed. - -"It is a lie, and--and if it were true, you could not prove it." - -George thought this her first false step. But there were no witnesses. - -"It will be war between us," she went on in growing excitement. "I will -stand at nothing--nothing--to crush you; and I will do it." - -"You must not try to frighten me," said George. - -Neaera surveyed him from head to foot. Then she stretched out her white -hand again, and said, - -"Go!" - -George shrugged his shoulders, took his hat, and went, feeling very much -as if Neaera had detected him in theft. So great is the virtue of a good -presence and dramatic instincts. - -Suddenly he paused; then he went back again, and knocked at the door. - -"Come in," cried Neaera. - -As he entered she made an impatient movement. She was still standing -where he had left her. - -"Pray pardon me. I forgot to say one thing. Of course I am only -interested in this--matter, as one of the family. I am not a detective. -If you give up Gerald, my mouth is sealed." - -"I will not give up Gerald," she exclaimed passionately. "I love him. I -am not an adventuress; I am rich already. I----" - -"Yes, you could look higher than Gerald, and avoid all this." - -"I don't care. I love him." - -George believed her. "I wish to God I could spare you----" - -"Spare me? I don't ask your mercy. You are a slanderer----" - -"I thought I would tell you," said George calmly. - -"Will you not go?" she cried. And her voice broke into a sob. - -This was worse than her tragedy airs. George fled without another word, -cursing himself for a hard-hearted, self-righteous prig, and then -cursing fate that laid this burden on him. What was she doing now, he -wondered. Exulting in her triumph? He hoped so; for a different picture -obstinately filled his mind--a beautiful woman, her face buried in her -white arms, crying the brightness out of her eyes, all because George -Neston had a sense of duty. Still he did not seriously waver in his -determination. If Neaera had admitted the whole affair and besought his -mercy, he felt that his resolution would have been sorely tried. But, -as it was, he carried away the impression that he had to deal with a -practised hand, and perhaps a little professional zeal mingled with his -honest feeling that a woman who would lie like that was a woman who -ought to be shown in her true colours. - -"I'll tell uncle Roger and Gerald to-morrow," he thought. "Of course -they will ask for proof. That means a journey to Peckton. Confound other -people's affairs!" - -George's surmise was right. Neaera Witt had spent the first half-hour -after his departure in a manner fully as heart-rending as he had -imagined. Everything was going so well. Gerald was so charming, and life -looked, at last, so bright, and now came this! But Gerald was to dine -with her, and there was not much time to waste in crying. She dried her -eyes, and doctored them back into their lustre, and made a wonderful -toilette. Then she entertained Gerald, and filled him with delight all a -long evening. And at eleven o'clock, just as she was driving him out of -his paradise, she said, - -"Your cousin George was here to-day." - -"Ah, was he? How did you get on with him?" - -Neaera had brought her lover his hat. He needed a strong hint to move -him. But she put the hat down, and knelt beside Gerald for a minute or -two in silence. - -"You look sad, darling," said he. "Did you and George quarrel?" - -"Yes--I---- It's very dreadful." - -"Why, what, my sweet?" - -"No, I won't tell you now. He shan't say I got hold of you first, and -prepossessed your mind." - -"What in the world is wrong, Neaera?" - -"You will hear, Gerald, soon. But you shall hear it from him. I will -not--no, I will not be the first. But, Gerald dear, you will not believe -anything against me?" - -"Does George say anything against you?" - -Neaera threw her arms round his neck. "Yes," she whispered. - -"Then let him take care what it is. Neaera, tell me." - -"No, no, no! He shall tell you first." - -She was firm; and Gerald went away, a very mass of amazement and wrath. - -But Neaera said to herself, when she was alone, "I think that was -right. But, oh dear, oh dear! what a fuss about"--she paused, and -added--"nothing!" - -And even if it were not quite nothing, if it were even as much as a pair -of shoes, the effect did threaten to be greatly out of proportion to the -cause. Old Dawkins, and the fussy clerk, and the fat policeman could -never have thought of such a coil as this, or surely, in defiance of all -the laws of the land, they would have let that nameless damsel go. - - - - -CHAPTER IV. - -A SERPENT IN EDEN. - - -On mature reflection, Gerald Neston declined to be angry. At first, -when he had heard George's tale, he had been moved to wrath, and had -said bitter things about reckless talking, and even about malicious -backbiting. But really, when you came to look at it, the thing was too -absurd--not worth a moment's consideration--except that it had, of -course, annoyed Neaera, and must, of course, leave some unpleasantness -behind it. Poor old George! he had hunted up a mare's nest this time, -and no mistake. No doubt he couldn't marry a thief; but who in his sober -senses would attach any importance to this tale? George had done what -he was pleased to think his duty. Let it rest. When he saw his folly, -Neaera would forgive him, like the sweet girl she was. In fact, Gerald -pooh-poohed the whole thing, and not the less because he had, not -unnaturally, expected an accusation of quite another character, more -unforgivable because not so outrageously improbable and wild. - -Lord Tottlebury could not consent to treat what he described as "the -incident" in quite so cavalier a fashion. He did not spare his hearers -the well-worn precedent of Caesar's wife; and although, after an -interview with Neaera, he was convinced of her innocence, it was in his -opinion highly desirable that George should disabuse his own mind of -this strange notion by some investigation. - -"The marriage, in any case, will not take place for three months. Go and -convince yourself of your mistake, and then, my dear George, we will -make your peace with the lady. I need not caution you to let the matter -go no further." - -To be treated as a well-intentioned but misguided person is the most -exasperating thing in the world, and George had hard work to keep his -temper under the treatment. But he recognised that he might well have -fared worse, and, in truth, he asked no more than a suspension of -the marriage pending inquiry--a concession that he understood Lord -Tottlebury was prepared to make, though proof must, of course, be -forthcoming in reasonable time. - -"I feel bound to look into it," he said. "As I have begun it, I will -spare no pains. Nobody wishes more heartily than myself that I may have -made an ass of myself." And he really did come as near to this laudable -state of mind as it is in human nature to come. - -Before the conference broke up, Lord Tottlebury suggested that there -was one thing George could do at once--he could name the date of the -trial at Peckton. George kept no diary, but he knew that the fateful -expedition had been among his earliest professional journeys after his -call to the Bar. Only very junior men went to Peckton, and, according to -his recollection, the occurrence took place in the April following his -call. - -"April, eight years ago, was the time," he said. "I don't pledge myself -to a day." - -"You pledge yourself to the month?" asked his uncle. - -"Yes, to the month, and I dare say I shall be able to find the day." - -"And when will you go to Peckton?" - -"Saturday. I can't possibly before." - -The interview took place on the Tuesday evening, and on Wednesday Gerald -went to lay the state of affairs before Neaera. - -Neaera was petulant, scornful, almost flippant. More than all this, she -was mysterious. - -"Mr. George Neston has his reasons," she said. "He will not withdraw his -accusation. I know he will not." - -"My dearest, George is a first-rate fellow, as honourable as the day. If -he finds--rather, when he finds----" - -All Neaera said was, "Honourable!" But she put a great deal into -that one word. "You dear, simple fellow!" she went on, "you have no -suspicions of anybody. But let him take care how he persists." - -More than this could not be got out of her, but she spoke freely about -her own supposed misdoings, pouring a flood of ridicule and bitterness -on George's unhappy head. - -"A fool you call him!" she exclaimed, in reply to Gerald's half-hearted -defence. "I don't know if he's a fool, but I hope he is no worse." - -"Who's getting it so precious warm, Mrs. Witt?" inquired Tommy -Myles's cheerful voice. "The door was ajar, and your words forced -themselves--you know." - -"How do you do, Mr. Myles?" - -"As you'd invited me, and your servant wasn't about, the porter-fellow -told me to walk up." - -"I'm very glad you did. There's nothing you can't hear." - -"Oh, I say, Neaera!" Gerald hastily exclaimed. - -"Why shouldn't he hear?" demanded Neaera, turning on him in superb -indignation. "Are you afraid that he'll believe it?" - -"No; but we all thought----" - -"I meant Mr. George Neston," said Neaera. - -"George!" exclaimed Tommy. - -"And I'll tell you why." And, in spite of Gerald's protest, she poured -her tale of wrong into Tommy's sympathetic and wide-opened ears. - -"There! Don't tell any one else. Lord Tottlebury says we mustn't. I -don't mind, for myself, who knows it." - -Tommy was overwhelmed. His mind refused to act. "He's a lunatic!" he -declared. "I don't believe it's safe to live with him. He'll cut my -throat, or something." - -"Oh no; his lunacy is under control--a well-trained, obedient lunacy," -said Neaera, relapsing into mystery. - -"We all hope," said Gerald, "he'll soon find out his mistake, and -nothing need come of it. Keep your mouth shut, my boy." - -"All right. I'm silent as the cold tomb. But I'm da----" - -"Have some more tea?" said Neaera, smiling very graciously. Should she -not reward so warm a champion? - -When the two young men took their leave and walked away together, Tommy -vied even with Gerald in the loudness of his indignation. - -"A lie! Of course it is, though I don't mean that old George don't -believe it--the old ass! Why, the mere fact of her insisting on telling -me about it is enough. She wouldn't do that if it's true." - -"Of course not," assented Gerald. - -"She'd be all for hushing it up." - -Gerald agreed again. - -"It's purely for George's sake we are so keen to keep it quiet," he -added. "Though, of course, Neaera even wouldn't want it all over the -town." - -"I suppose I'd better tell George I know?" - -"Oh yes. You'll be bound to show it in your manner." - -George showed no astonishment at hearing that Neaera had made a -confidant of Tommy Myles. It was quite consistent with the part she -was playing, as he conceived it. Nor did he resent Tommy's outspoken -rebukes. - -"Don't mix yourself up in unpleasant things when you aren't obliged, my -son," was all he said in reply to these tirades. "Dine at home?" - -"No," snorted Tommy, in high dudgeon. - -"You won't break bread with the likes of me?" - -"I'm going to the play, and to supper afterwards." - -"With whom?" - -"Eunice Beauchamp." - -"Dear me, what a pretty name!" said George. "Short for 'Betsy Jones,' I -suppose?" - -"Go to the devil," said Tommy. "You ain't going to accuse her of -prigging, are you?" - -"She kidnaps little boys," said George, who felt himself entitled to -some revenge, "and keeps them till they're nearly grown up." - -"I don't believe you ever saw her in your life." - -"Oh yes, I did--first piece I ever went to, twenty years ago." - -And so, what with Eunice Beauchamp, _alias_ Betsy Jones, and Neaera -Witt, _alias_--what?--two friends parted for that evening with some want -of cordiality. - -"She plays a bold game," thought George, as he ate his solitary chop; -"but too bold. You overdo it, Mrs. Witt. An innocent girl would not tell -that sort of thing to a stranger, however false it was." - -Which reflection only showed that things strike different minds -differently. - -George needed comfort. The Serpent-in-Eden feeling was strong upon him. -He wanted somebody who would not only recognise his integrity but also -admire his discretion. He had a card for Mrs. Pocklington's at-home, and -Isabel was to be there. He would go and have a talk with her; perhaps he -would tell her all about it, for surely Neaera's confidence to Tommy -Myles absolved him from the strict letter of his pledge of secrecy. -Isabel was a sensible girl; she would understand his position, and not -look on him as a cross between an idiot and a burglar because he had -done what was obviously right. So George went to Mrs. Pocklington's -with all the rest of the world; for everybody went there. Mrs. -Pocklington--Eleanor Fitzderham, who married Pocklington, the great -shipowner, member for Dockborough--had done more to unite the classes -and the masses than hundreds of philanthropic societies, and, it may be -added, in a pleasanter manner; and if, at her parties, the bigwigs did -not always talk to the littlewigs, yet the littlewigs were in the same -room with the bigwigs, which is something even at the moment, and really -very nearly as good for purposes of future reference. - -George made his way across the crowded rooms, recognising many -acquaintances as he went. There was Mr. Blodwell talking to the last -new beauty--he had a wonderful knack of it,--and Sidmouth Vane talking -to the last new heiress, who would refuse him in a month or two. An -atheistic philosopher was discussing the stagnation of the stock-markets -with a high-church Bishop--Mrs. Pocklington always aimed at starting -people on their points of common interest: and Lady Wheedleton, of the -Primrose League, was listening to Professor Dressingham's description of -the newest recipe for manure, with an impression that the subject was -not quite decent, but might be useful at elections. General Sir Thomas -Swears was asking if anybody had seen the Secretary for War--he had a -word to say to him about the last rifle; but nobody had. The Countess -Hilda von Someveretheim was explaining the problem of "Darkest England" -to the Minister of the Republic of Compostella; Judge Cutter, the -American mystic, was asking the captain of the Oxford Boat Club about -the philosophy of Hegel, and Miss Zoe Ballance, the pretty actress, was -discussing the relations of art and morality with Colonel Belamour of -the Guards. - -George was inclined to resent the air of general enjoyment that pervaded -the place: it seemed a little unfeeling. But he was comforted by -catching sight of Isabel. She was talking to a slight young man who wore -an eye-glass and indulged in an expression of countenance which invited -the conclusion that he was overworked and overstrained. Indeed, he was -just explaining to Miss Bourne that it was not so much long hours as -what he graphically described as the "tug on his nerves" that wore him -out. Isabel had never suffered from this particular torture, but she -was very sympathetic, said that she had often heard the same from other -literary men (which was true), and promised to go down to supper with -Mr. Espion later in the evening. Mr. Espion went about his business -(for, the fact is, he was "doing" the party for the _Bull's-eye_), and -the coast was left clear for George, who came up with a deliberately -lugubrious air. Of course Isabel asked him what was the matter; and, -somehow or other, it happened that in less than ten minutes she was in -possession of all the material facts, if they were facts, concerning -Neaera Witt and the pair of shoes. - -The effect was distinctly disappointing. Amiability degenerates into -simplicity when it leads to the refusal to accept obvious facts merely -because they impugn the character of an acquaintance; and what is the -use of feminine devotion if it boggles over accepting what you say, just -because you say something a little surprising? George was much annoyed. - -"I am not mistaken," he said. "I did not speak hastily." - -"Of course not," said Isabel. "But--but you have no actual proof, have -you, George?" - -"Not yet; but I soon shall have." - -"Well, unless you get it very soon----" - -"Yes?" - -"I think you ought to withdraw what you have said, and apologise to Mrs. -Witt." - -"In fact, you think I was wrong to speak at all?" - -"I think I should have waited till I had proof; and then, perhaps----" - -"Everybody seems to think me an ass." - -"Not _that_, George; but a little--well--reckless." - -"I shan't withdraw it." - -"Not if you get no proof?" - -George shirked this pointed question, and, as the interview was really -less soothing than he had expected, took an early opportunity of -escaping. - -Mr. Espion came back, and asked why Neston had gone away looking so -sulky. Isabel smiled and said Mr. Neston was vexed with her. Could -anybody be vexed with Miss Bourne? asked Mr. Espion, and added, - -"But Neston is rather crotchety, isn't he?" - -"Why do you say that?" asked Isabel. - -"Oh, I don't know. Well, the fact is, I was talking to Tommy Myles at -the Cancan----" - -"Where, Mr. Espion?" - -"At the theatre, and he told me Neston had got some maggot in his -head----" - -"I don't think he ought to say that." - -But need we listen longer? And whose fault was it--Neaera's, or -George's, or Isabel's, or Tommy's, or Mr. Espion's? That became the -question afterwards, when Lord Tottlebury was face to face with the -violated compact,--and with next day's issue of the _Bull's-eye_. - - - - -CHAPTER V. - -THE FIRST PARAGRAPH--AND OTHERS. - - -Under pressure of circumstances men very often do what they have -declared they cannot possibly do; it happens with private individuals no -less than with political parties. George declared he could not possibly -go to Peckton before Saturday; but he was so disgusted with his -position, that he threw all other engagements to the winds, and started -early on Thursday morning, determined not to face his friends again -without attempting to prove his words. Old Dawkins was dead, but the -clerk was, and the policeman might be, alive; and, on his return to -town, he could see Jennings, the clerk's son, who had settled down -to conveyancing in Lincoln's Inn, and try to refresh his memory with -materials gathered on the spot. For George had already seen Mr. -Jennings, and Mr. Jennings remembered nothing about it--it was not his -first brief,--but was willing to try to recall the matter if George -would get him the details and let him see a picture of the person -wanted--a request George did not wish to comply with at the moment. - -So he went to Peckton, and found out perhaps as much as he could -reasonably expect to find out, as shall in due course appear. And -during his absence several things happened. In the first place, the -_Bull's-eye_ was published, containing what became known as the "First -Paragraph." The "First Paragraph" was headed "Strange Charge against a -Lady--Rumoured Proceedings," and indicated the Neston family, Neaera -Witt, and George, in such a manner as to enable their friends to -identify them. This paragraph was inserted with the object of giving -Neaera, or George, or both of them, as the case might be, or anybody -else who could be "drawn," an opportunity of contradicting it. The -second event was that the Nestons' friends did identify them, and -proceeded to open the minds of everybody who did not. - -Then Mr. Blodwell read the _Bull's-eye_, as his custom was, and -thoughtfully ejaculated "Peckton!" and Lord Tottlebury, being at the -club, was shown the _Bull's-eye_ by a friend, who really could not -do less, and went home distracted; and Tommy Myles read it, and, -conscience-stricken, fled to Brighton for three days' fresh air; and -Isabel read it, and confessed to her mother, and was scolded, and cried; -and Gerald read it, and made up his mind to kick everybody concerned, -except, of course, Neaera; and, finally, Neaera read it, and was rather -frightened and rather excited, and girt on her armour for battle. - -Gerald, however, was conscious that the process he had in his mind, -satisfying as it would be to his own feelings, would not prove in all -respects a solution of the difficulty, and, with the selfishness which a -crisis in a man's own affairs engenders, he made no scruple about taking -up a full hour of Mr. Blodwell's time, and expounding his views at great -length, under the guise of taking counsel. Mr. Blodwell listened to his -narrative of facts with interest, but cut short his stream of indignant -comment. - -"The mischief is that it's got into the papers," he said. "But for that, -I don't see that it matters much." - -"Not matter much?" gasped Gerald. - -"I suppose you don't care whether it's true or not?" - -"It's life or death to me," answered Gerald. - -"Bosh! She won't steal any more shoes now she's a rich woman." - -"You speak, sir, as if you thought----" - -"Haven't any opinion on the subject, and it wouldn't be of any -importance if I had. The question is shortly this: Supposing it to be -true, would you marry her?" - -Gerald flung himself into a chair, and bit his finger nail. - -"Eight years is a long while ago; and poverty's a hard thing; and she's -a pretty girl." - -"It's an absurd hypothesis," said Gerald. "But a thief's a thief." - -"True. So are a good many other people." - -"I should have to consider my father and--and the family." - -"Should you? I should see the family damned. However, it comes to -this--if it were true, you wouldn't marry her." - -"How could I?" groaned Gerald. "We should be cut." - -Mr. Blodwell smiled. - -"Well, my ardent lover," he said, "that being so, you'd better do -nothing till you see whether it's true." - -"Not at all. I only took the hypothesis; but I haven't the least doubt -that it's a lie." - -"A mistake--yes. But it's in the _Bull's-eye_, and a mistake in the -newspapers needs to be reckoned with." - -"What shall I do?" - -"Wait till George comes back. Meanwhile, hold your tongue." - -"I shall contradict that lie." - -"Much better not. Don't write to them, or see them, or let anybody else -till George comes back. And, Gerald, if I were you, I shouldn't quarrel -with George." - -"He shall withdraw it, or prove it." - -Mr. Blodwell shrugged his shoulders and became ostentatiously busy with -the case of _Pigg_ v. _the Local Board of Slushton-under-Mudd_. "A very -queer point this," he remarked. "The drainage system of Slushton is----" -And he stopped with a chuckle at the sight of Gerald's vanishing back. -He called after him-- - -"Are you going to Mrs. Witt's this afternoon?" - -"No," answered Gerald. "This evening." - -Mr. Blodwell sat at work for ten minutes more. Then he rang the bell. - -"Mr. Neston gone, Timms?" - -"Yes, sir." - -"Then get a four-wheeler." And he added to himself, "I should like to -see her again, under this new light. I wonder if she'll let me in." - -Neaera did let him in. In fact, she seemed very glad to see him, and -accepted with meekness her share of his general censure on the -"babbling" that had gone on. - -"You see," she said, handing him a cup of tea, "it scarcely seemed a -serious matter to me. I was angry, of course, but almost more amused -than angry." - -"Naturally," answered Mr. Blodwell. "But, my dear young lady, everything -which is public is serious. And this thing is now public, for no doubt -to-morrow's _Bull's-eye_ will give all your names and addresses." - -"I don't care," said Neaera. - -Mr. Blodwell shook his head. "You must consider Gerald and his people." - -"Gerald doesn't doubt me. If he did----" Neaera left her recreant -lover's fate to the imagination. - -"But Lord Tottlebury and the world at large? The world at large always -doubts one." - -"I suppose so," said Neaera, sadly. "Fortunately, I have conclusive -proof." - -"My dear Mrs. Witt, why didn't you say so before?" - -"Before there was anything to meet? Is that your way, Mr. Blodwell?" - -"George may bring back something to meet." - -Neaera rose and went to her writing-table. "I don't know why I shouldn't -show it to you," she said. "I was just going to send it to Lord -Tottlebury. It will be a pleasant surprise for Mr. George Neston when -he comes back from Peckton with his proofs!" She handed Mr. Blodwell a -sheet of note-paper. - -He took it, throwing one quick glance at Neaera. "You wish me to read -this?" - -"It's letting you into the secrets of my early days," she said. "You -see, I wasn't always as well off as I am now." - -Mr. Blodwell adjusted his eye-glass and perused the document, which set -forth that Miss N. Gale entered the service of Mrs. Philip Horne, of -Balmoral Villa, Bournemouth, as companion to that lady, in March, 1883, -and remained in such service until the month of July, 1883; that, during -the whole of such period, she conducted herself with propriety; that she -read aloud with skill, ordered a household with discretion, and humoured -a fussy old lady with tact (this is a paraphrase of the words of the -writer); finally, that she left, by her own desire, to the regret of the -above-mentioned Susan Horne. - -Neaera watched Mr. Blodwell as he read. - -"Eighteen eighty-three?" said he; "that's the year in question?" - -"Yes, and April is the month in question--the month I am supposed to -have spent in prison!" - -"You didn't show this to George?" - -"No. Why should I? Besides, I didn't know then when he dated my crime." - -Mr. Blodwell thought it a little queer that she had not asked him. "He -should certainly see it at once. Have you seen anything of Mrs. Horne -lately?" - -"Oh no; I should be afraid she must be dead. She was an old lady, and -very feeble." - -"It is--it may be--very lucky--your having this." - -"Yes, isn't it? I should never have remembered the exact time I went to -Mrs. Horne's." - -Mr. Blodwell took his departure in a state of mind that he felt was -unreasonable. Neaera had been, he told himself, most frank, most -charming, most satisfactory. Yet he was possessed with an overpowering -desire to cross-examine Neaera. - -"Perhaps it's only habit," he said to himself. "A protestation of -innocence raises all my fighting instincts." - -The next day witnessed the publication of the "Second Paragraph," and -the second paragraph made it plain to everybody that somebody must -vindicate his or her character. The public did not care who did it, but -it felt itself entitled to an action, wherein the whole matter should be -threshed out for the furtherance of public justice and entertainment. -The _Bull's-eye_ itself took this view. It implored Neaera, or George, -or somebody to sue it, if they would not sue one another. It had given -names, addresses, dates, and details. Could the most exacting plaintiff -ask more? If no action were brought, it was clear that Neaera had stolen -the shoes, and that George had slandered her, and that the Nestons in -general shrank from investigation into the family history; all this -was still clearer, if they pursued their extraordinary conduct in not -forwarding personal narratives for the information of the public and the -accommodation of the _Bull's-eye_. - -Into this turmoil George was plunged on his return from Peckton. He had -been detained there two days, and did not reach his rooms till late -on Friday evening. He was greeted by two numbers of the _Bull's-eye_, -neatly displayed on his table; by a fiery epistle from Gerald, demanding -blood or apologies; by two penitential dirges from Isabel Bourne and -Tommy Myles; and, lastly, by a frigid note from Lord Tottlebury, -enclosing the testimony of Mrs. Philip Horne to the character and -accomplishments of Miss N. Gale. In Lord Tottlebury's opinion, only one -course was, under the circumstances, open to a gentleman. - -Philanthropists often remark, _à propos_ of other philanthropists, that -it is easier to do harm than good, even when you are, as it were, an -expert in doing good. George began to think that his amateur effort -at preserving the family reputation and punishing a wrongdoer looked -like vindicating the truth of this general principle. Here was a -hornets'-nest about his ears! And would what he brought back with him -make the buzzing less furious or the stings less active? He thought not. - -"Can a girl be in two places at once," he asked,--"in one of her -Majesty's prisons, and also at--where is it?--Balmoral Villa, -Bournemouth?" And he laid side by side Mrs. Horne's letter and a certain -photograph which was among the spoils of his expedition. - -George had not the least doubt that it was a photograph of Neaera -Witt, for all that it was distinctly inscribed, "Nelly Game." Beyond -all question it was a photograph of the girl who stole the shoes, -thoughtfully taken and preserved with a view to protecting society -against future depredations at her hands. It was Crown property, -George supposed, and probably he had no business with it, but a man can -get many things he has no business with for half a sovereign, the sum -George had paid for the loan of it. It must be carefully remembered -that Peckton is exceptional, not typical, in the laxity of its -administration, and a long reign of solitary despotism had sapped the -morality of the fat policeman. - -The art of photography has made much progress in recent years. It is -less an engine for the reduction of self-conceit than it used to be, -and less a means of revealing how ill-looking a given person can appear -under favourable circumstances. But Peckton was behind the time, here as -everywhere. Nelly Game's portrait did faint justice to Neaera Witt, and -eight years' wear had left it blurred and faded almost to the point of -indistinctness. It was all very well for George to recognise it. In -candour he was bound to admit that he doubted if it would convince -the unwilling. Besides, a great change comes between seventeen and -five-and-twenty, even when Seventeen is not half-starved and clad in -rags, Five-and-twenty living in luxury, and decked in the glories of -millinery. - -"It won't do alone," he said, "but it will help. Let's have a look at -this--document." When he had read it he whistled gently. "Oh, ho! an -alibi. Now I've got her!" he exclaimed. - -But had he? He carefully re-read the letter. It was a plausible enough -letter, and conclusive, unless he was prepared to charge Mrs. Witt -with deeper schemes and more dangerous accomplishments than he had yet -thought of doing. - -Men are mistaken sometimes, said a voice within him; but he would not -listen. - -"I'll look at that again to-morrow," he said, "and find out who 'Susan -Horne' is." - -Then he read his letters, and cursed his luck, and went to bed a -miserable man. - -The presentment of truth, not the inculcation of morality, being the end -of art, it is worth while to remark that he went to bed a miserable man -simply and solely because he had tried to do his duty. - - - - -CHAPTER VI. - -A SUCCESSFUL ORDEAL. - - -The general opinion was that Gerald Neston behaved foolishly in allowing -himself to be interviewed by the _Bull's-eye_. Indeed, it is rather -odd, when we consider the almost universal disapproval of the practice -of interviewing, to see how frequent interviews are. _Damnantur et -crescunt_; and mankind agrees to excuse its own weakness by postulating -irresistible ingenuity and audacity in the interviewer. So Gerald was -publicly blamed and privately blessed for telling the _Bull's-eye_ that -an atrocious accusation had been brought against the lady referred to, -and brought by one who should have been the last to bring it, and would, -he hoped, be the first to withdraw it. The accusation did seriously -concern the lady's character, and nothing but the fullest apology could -be accepted. He preferred not to go into details at present; indeed, he -hoped it would never be necessary to do so. - -Such might be Gerald's hope. It was not the hope of the _Bull's-eye_, -nor, indeed, of society in general. What could be more ill-advised than -to hint dreadful things and refuse full information? Such a course -simply left the imagination to wander, fancy free, through the Newgate -Calendar, attributing to Mrs. Witt--the name of the slandered lady -was by this time public property--all or any of the actions therein -recorded. - -"It's like a blank bill," said Charters, the commercial lawyer, to Mr. -Blodwell; "you fill it up for as much as the stamp will cover." - -"The more gossiping fool you," replied Mr. Blodwell, very rudely, and -quite unjustifiably, for the poor man merely meant to indicate a natural -tendency, not to declare his own idea of what was proper. But Mr. -Blodwell was cross; everybody had made fools of themselves, he thought, -and he was hanged--at least hanged--if he saw his way out of it. - -George's name had not as yet been actually mentioned, but everybody knew -who it was,--that "relative of Lord Tottlebury, whose legal experience, -if nothing else, should have kept him from bringing ungrounded -accusations;" and George's position was far from pleasant. He began to -see, or fancy he saw, men looking askance at him; his entrance was the -occasion of a sudden pause in conversation; his relations with his -family were, it need hardly be said, intolerable to the last degree; -and, finally, Isabel Bourne had openly gone over to the enemy, had made -her mother invite Neaera Witt to dinner, and had passed George in the -park with the merest mockery of a bow. He was anxious to bring matters -to an issue one way or another, and with this end he wrote to Lord -Tottlebury, asking him to arrange a meeting with Mrs. Witt. - -"As you are aware," he said, "I have been to Peckton. I have already -told you what I found there, so far as it bore on the fact of 'Nelly -Game's' conviction. I now desire to give certain persons who were -acquainted with 'Nelly Game' an opportunity of seeing Mrs. Witt. No -doubt she will raise no objections. Blodwell is willing to put his -chambers at our disposal; and I think this would be the best place, as -it will avoid the gossip and curiosity of the servants. Will Mrs. Witt -name a day and time? I and my companions will make a point of suiting -her convenience." - -George's "companions" were none other than the fussy clerk and the fat -policeman. The female warder had vanished; and although there were -some prison officials whose office dated from before Nelly Game's -imprisonment, George felt that, unless his first two witnesses -were favourable, it would be useless to press the matter, and did -not at present enlist their services. Mr. Jennings, the Lincoln's -Inn barrister, had proved utterly hopeless. George showed him the -photograph. "I shouldn't have recognized it from Eve's," said Mr. -Jennings; and George felt that he might, without duplicity, ignore such -a useless witness. - -Neaera laughed a little at the proposal when it was submitted to her, -but expressed her willingness to consent to it. Gerald was almost angry -with her for not being angry at the indignity. - -"He goes too far: upon my word he does;" he muttered. - -"What does it matter, dear?" asked Neaera. "It will be rather fun." - -Lord Tottlebury raised a hand in grave protest. - -"My dear Neaera!" said he. - -"Not much fun for George," Gerald remarked in grim triumph. - -"I suppose Mr. Blodwell's chambers will do?" asked Lord Tottlebury. "It -seems convenient." - -But here Neaera, rather to his surprise, had her own views. She wasn't -going down to musty chambers to be stared at--yes, Gerald, all lawyers -stared,--and taken for a breach-of-promise person, and generally -besmirched with legal mire. No: nor she wouldn't have Mr. George -Neston's spies in her house; nor would she put herself out the least -about it. - -"Then it must be in my house," said Lord Tottlebury. - -Neaera acquiesced, merely adding that the valuables had better be locked -up. - -"And when? We had better say some afternoon, I suppose." - -"I am engaged every afternoon for a fortnight." - -"My dear," said Lord Tottlebury, "business must take precedence." - -Neaera did not see it; but at last she made a suggestion. "I am dining -with you _en famille_ the day after to-morrow. Let them come then." - -"That'll do," said George. "Ten minutes after dinner will settle the -whole business." - -Lord Tottlebury made no objection. George had suggested that a couple -of other ladies should be present, to make the trial fairer; and it was -decided to invite Isabel Bourne, and Miss Laura Pocklington, daughter -of the great Mrs. Pocklington. Mrs. Pocklington would come with her -daughter, and it was felt that her presence would add authority to the -proceedings. Maud Neston was away; indeed, her absence had been thought -desirable, pending the settlement of this unpleasant affair. - -Lord Tottlebury always made the most of his chances of solemnity, and, -if left to his own bent, would have invested the present occasion -with an impressiveness not far short of a death sentence. But he was -powerless in face of the determined frivolity with which Neaera treated -the whole matter. Mrs. Pocklington found herself, apparently, invited to -assist at a farce, instead of a melodrama, and with her famous tact at -once recognised the situation, her elaborate playfulness sanctioned the -hair-brained chatter of the girls, and made Gerald's fierce indignation -seem disproportionate to the subject. Dinner passed in a whirl of jokes -and gibes, George affording ample material; and afterwards the ladies, -flushed with past laughter, and constantly yielding to fresh hilarity -at Neaera's sallies, awaited the coming of George and his party with no -diminution of gaiety. - -A knock was heard at the door. - -"Here are the minions of the law, Mrs. Witt!" cried Laura Pocklington. - -"Then I must prepare for the dungeon," said Neaera, and rearranged her -hair before a mirror. - -"It quite reminds me," said Mrs. Pocklington, "of the dear Queen of -Scots." - -Lord Tottlebury was, in spite of his preoccupations, beginning to argue -about the propriety of Mrs. Pocklington's epithet, when George was -shown in. He looked weary, bored, disgusted. After shaking hands with -Lord Tottlebury, he bowed generally to the room, and said, - -"I propose to bring Mr. Jennings, the clerk, in first; then the -policeman. It will be better they should come separately." - -Lord Tottlebury nodded. Gerald had ostentatiously turned his back on his -cousin. Mrs. Pocklington fanned herself with an air of amused protest, -which the girls reproduced in a broader form. No one spoke, till Neaera -herself said with a laugh, - -"Arrange your effects as you please, Mr. Neston." - -George looked at her. She was dressed with extraordinary richness, -considering the occasion. Her neck and arms, disclosed by her evening -gown, glittered with diamonds; a circlet of the same stones adorned her -golden hair, which was arranged in a lofty erection on her head. She met -his look with derisive defiance, smiling in response to the sarcastic -smile on his face. George's smile was called forth by the recognition of -his opponent's tactics. Her choice of time and place had enabled her to -call to her aid all the arts of millinery and the resources of wealth to -dazzle and blind the eyes of those who sought to find in her the shabby -draggle-tailed girl of eight years before. Old Mr. Jennings had come -under strong protest. He was, he said, half blind eight years ago, and -more than half now; he had seen hundreds of interesting young criminals -and could no more recognise one from another than to-day's breakfast egg -from yesterday week's; as for police photographs, everybody knew they -only darkened truth. Still he came, because George had constrained him. - -Neaera, Isabel, and Laura Pocklington took their places side by side, -Neaera on the right, leaning her arm on the chimney-piece, in her -favourite pose of languid haughtiness; Isabel was next her. Lord -Tottlebury met Mr. Jennings with cold civility, and gave him a chair. -The old man wiped his spectacles and put them on. A pause ensued. - -"George," said Lord Tottlebury, "I suppose you have explained?" - -"Yes," said George. "Mr. Jennings, can you say whether any, and which, -of the persons present is Nelly Game?" - -Gerald turned round to watch the trial. - -"Is the person suspected--supposed to be Nelly Game--in the room?" asked -Mr. Jennings, with some surprise. He had expected to see a group of -maid-servants. - -"Certainly," said Lord Tottlebury, with a grim smile. And Mrs. -Pocklington chuckled. - -"Then I certainly can't," said Mr. Jennings. And there was an end of -that, an end no other than what George had expected. The fat policeman -was his sheet-anchor. - -The fat policeman, or to give him his proper name, Sergeant Stubbs, -unlike Mr. Jennings, was enjoying himself. A trip to London _gratis_, -with expenses on a liberal scale, and an identification at the -end--could the heart of mortal constable desire more? Know the girl? Of -course he would, among a thousand! It was his business to know people -and he did not mean to fail, especially in the service of so considerate -an employer. So he walked in confidently, sat himself down, and -received his instructions with professional imperturbability. - -The ladies stood and smiled at Stubbs. Stubbs sat and peered at the -ladies, and, being a man at heart, thought they were a set of as likely -girls as he'd ever seen; so he told Mrs. Stubbs afterwards. But which -was Nelly Game? - -"It isn't her in the middle," said Stubbs, at last. - -"Then," said George, "we needn't trouble Miss Bourne any longer." - -Isabel went and sat down, with a scornful toss of her head, and Laura -Pocklington and Neaera stood side by side. - -"I feel as if it were the judgment of Paris," whispered the latter, -audibly, and Mrs. Pocklington and Gerald tittered. Stubbs had once been -to Paris on business, but he did not see what it had to do with the -present occasion, unless indeed it were something about a previous -conviction. - -"It isn't her," he said, after another pause, pointing a stumpy -forefinger at Laura Pocklington. - -There was a little shiver of dismay. George rigidly repressed every -indication of satisfaction. Neaera stood calm and smiling, bending a -look of amused kindliness on Stubbs; but the palm of the white hand on -the mantelpiece grew pink as the white fingers pressed against it. - -"Would you like to see me a little nearer?" she asked, and, stepping -forward to where Stubbs sat, she stood right in front of him. - -George felt inclined to cry "Brava!" as if he were at the play. - -Stubbs was puzzled. There was a likeness, but there was so much -unlikeness too. It really wasn't fair to dress people up differently. -How was a man to know them? - -"Might I see the photograph again, sir?" he asked George. - -"Certainly not," exclaimed Gerald, angrily. - -George ignored him. - -"I had rather," he said, "you told us what you think without it." - -George had sent Lord Tottlebury the photograph, and everybody had looked -at it and declared it was not the least like Neaera. - -Stubbs resumed his survey. At last he said, pressing his hand over his -eyes, - -"I can't swear to her, sir." - -"Very well," said George. "That'll do." - -But Neaera laughed. - -"Swear to me, Mr. Stubbs!" said she. "But do you mean you think I'm like -this Nelly Games?" - -"'Game,' not 'Games,' Mrs. Witt," said George, smiling again. - -"Well, then, 'Game.'" - -"Yes, miss, you've a look of her." - -"Of course she has," said Mrs. Pocklington, "or Mr. George would never -have made the mistake." Mrs. Pocklington liked George, and wanted to let -him down easily. - -"That's all you can say?" asked Lord Tottlebury. - -"Yes, sir; I mean, my lord." - -"It comes to nothing," said Lord Tottlebury, decisively. - -"Nothing at all," said George. "Thank you, Stubbs. I'll join you and Mr. -Jennings in a moment." - -"Good-bye, Mr. Stubbs," said Neaera. "I'm sure I should have known you -if I'd ever seen you before." - -Stubbs withdrew, believing himself to have received a compliment. - -"Of course this ends the matter, George," said Lord Tottlebury. - -"I should hope so," said Gerald. - -George looked at Neaera; and as he looked the conviction grew stronger -on him that she was Nelly Game. - -"Mr. George Neston is not convinced," said she, mockingly. - -"It does not much matter whether I am convinced or not," said George. -"There is no kind of evidence to prove the identity." - -Gerald sprang up in indignation. "Do you mean that you won't retract?" - -"You can state all the facts; I shall say nothing." - -"You shall apologise, or----" - -"Gerald," said Lord Tottlebury, "this is no use." - -There was a feeling that George was behaving very badly. Everybody -thought so, and said so; and all except Neaera either exhorted or -besought him to confess himself the victim of an absurd mistake. As the -matter had become public, nothing less could be accepted. - -George wavered. "I will let you know to-morrow," he said. "Meanwhile let -me return this document to Mrs. Witt." He took out Mrs. Horne's letter -and laid it on the table. "I have ventured to take a copy," he said. "As -the original is valuable, I thought I had better give it back." - -"Thank you," said Neaera, and moved forward to take it. - -Gerald hastened to fetch it for her. As he took it up, his eye fell on -the writing, for George had laid it open on the table. - -"Why, Neaera," said he, "it's in your handwriting!" - -George started, and he thought he saw Neaera start just perceptibly. - -"Of course," she said. "That's only a copy." - -"My dear, you never told me so," said Lord Tottlebury; "and I have never -seen your handwriting." - -"Gerald and Maud have." - -"But they never saw this." - -"It was stupid of me," said Neaera, penitently; "but I never thought of -there being any mistake. What difference does it make?" - -George's heart was hardened. He was sure she had, if not tried to pass -off the copy as an original from the first, at any rate taken advantage -of the error. - -"Have you the original?" he asked. - -"No," said Neaera. "I sent it to somebody ever so long ago, and never -got it back." - -"When did you make this copy?" - -"When I sent away the original." - -"To whom?" began George again. - -"I won't have it," cried Gerald. "You shan't cross-examine her with your -infernal insinuations. Do you mean that she forged this?" - -George grew stubborn. - -"I should like to see the original," he said. - -"Then you can't," retorted Gerald, angrily. - -George shrugged his shoulders, turned, and left the room. - -And they all comforted and cosseted Neaera, and abused George, and made -up their minds to let the world know how badly he was behaving. - -"It's our duty to society," said Lord Tottlebury. - - - - -CHAPTER VII. - -AN IMPOSSIBLE BARGAIN. - - -"I should eat humble-pie, George," said Mr. Blodwell, tapping his -eye-glasses against his front teeth. "She's one too many for you." - -"Do you think I'm wrong?" - -"On the whole, I incline to think you're right. But I should eat -humble-pie if I were you, all the same." - -The suggested diet is palatable to nobody, and the power of consuming it -without contortion is rightly put high in the list of virtues, if virtue -be proportionate to difficulty. To a man of George Neston's temperament -penance was hard, even when enforced by the consciousness of sin; to -bend the knees in abasement, when the soul was erect in self-approval, -came nigh impossibility. - -Still it was unquestionably necessary that he should assume the sheet -and candle, or put up with an alternative hardly, if at all, less -unpleasant. The "Fourth Paragraph" had appeared. It was called a -paragraph for the sake of uniformity, but it was in reality a narrative, -stretching to a couple of columns, and giving a detailed account of -the attempted identification. For once, George implicitly believed the -editor's statement that his information came to him on unimpeachable -authority. The story was clearly not only inspired by, but actually -written by the hand of Gerald himself, and it breathed a bitter -hostility to himself that grieved George none the less because it was -very natural. This hostility showed itself, here and there, in direct -attack; more constantly in irony and ingenious ridicule. George's look, -manner, tones, and walk were all pressed into the service. In a word, -the article certainly made him look an idiot; he rather thought it made -him look a malignant idiot. - -"What can you do?" demanded Mr. Blodwell again. "You can't bring up any -more people from Peckton. You chose your witnesses, and they let you -in." - -George nodded. - -"You went to Bournemouth, and you found--what? Not that Mrs. -What's-her-name--Horne--was a myth, as you expected, or -conveniently--and, mind you, not unplausibly--dead, as I expected, but -an actual, existent, highly respectable, though somewhat doting, old -lady. She had you badly there, George my boy!" - -"Yes," admitted George. "I wonder if she knew the woman was alive?" - -"She chanced it; wished she might be dead, perhaps, but chanced it. -That, George, is where Mrs. Witt is great." - -"Mrs. Horne doesn't remember her being there in March, or indeed April." - -"Perhaps not; but she doesn't say the contrary." - -"Oh, no. She said that if the character says March, of course it was -March." - -"The 'of course' betrays a lay mind. But still the character does say -March--for what it's worth." - -"The copy of it does." - -"I know what you mean. But think before you say that, George. It's -pretty strong; and you haven't a tittle of evidence to support you." - -"I don't want to say a word. I'll let them alone, if they'll let me -alone. But that woman's Nelly Game, as sure as I'm----" - -"An infernally obstinate chap," put in Mr. Blodwell. - -Probably what George meant by being "let alone," was the cessation of -paragraphs in the _Bull's-eye_. If so, his wish was not gratified. "Will -Mr. George Neston"--George's name was no longer "withheld"--"retract?" -took, in the columns of that publication, much the position occupied by -_Delenda est Carthago_ in the speeches of Cato the Elder. It met the -reader on the middle page; it lurked for him in the leading article; it -appeared, by way of playful reference, in the city intelligence; one -man declared he found it in an advertisement, but this no doubt was an -oversight--or perhaps a lie. - -George was not more sensitive than other men, but the annoyance -was extreme. The whole world seemed full of people reading the -_Bull's-eye_, some with grave reprobation, some with offensive -chucklings. - -But if the _Bull's-eye_ would not leave him alone, a large number of -people did. He was not exactly cut; but his invitations diminished, the -greetings he received grew less cordial than of yore: he was not turned -out of the houses he went to, but he was not much pressed to come again. -He was made to feel that right-minded and reasonable people--a term -everybody uses to describe themselves--were against him, and that, if -he wished to re-enter the good graces of society, he must do so by the -strait and narrow gate of penitence and apology. - -"I shall have to do it," he said to himself, as he sat moodily in his -chambers. "They're all at me--uncle Roger, Tommy Myles, Isabel--all of -them. I'm shot if I ever interfere with anybody's marriage again." - -The defection of Isabel rankled in his mind worst of all. That she, of -all people, should turn against him, and, as a last insult, send him -upbraiding messages through Tommy Myles! This she had done, and George -was full of wrath. - -"A note for you, sir," said Timms, entering in his usual silent manner. -Timms had no views on the controversy, being one of those rare people -who mind their own business; and George had fallen so low as to be -almost grateful for the colourless impartiality with which he bore -himself towards the quarrel between his masters. - -George took the note. "Mr. Gerald been here, Timms?" - -"He looked in for letters, sir; but went away directly on hearing you -were here." - -Timms stated this fact as if it were in the ordinary way of friendly -intercourse, and withdrew. - -"Well, I am----!" exclaimed George, and paused. - -The note was addressed in the handwriting he now knew very well, the -handwriting of the Bournemouth character. - - "DEAR MR. NESTON, - - "I shall be alone at five o'clock to-day. Will you come and see me? - - "Yours sincerely, - "NEAERA WITT." - -"You must do as a lady asks you," said George, "even if she does steal -shoes, and you have mentioned it. Here goes! What's she up to now, I -wonder?" - -Neaera, arrayed in the elaborate carelessness of a tea-gown, received -him, not in the drawing-room, but in her own snuggery. Tea was on the -table; there was a bright little fire, and a somnolent old cat snoozed -on the hearth-rug. The whole air was redolent of what advertisements -called a "refined home," and Neaera's manner indicated an almost -pathetic desire to be friendly, checked only by the self-respecting fear -of a rude rebuff to her advances. - -"It is really kind of you to come," she said, "to consent to a parley." - -"The beaten side always consents to a parley," answered George, taking -the seat she indicated. She was half sitting, half lying on a sofa when -he came in, and resumed her position after greeting him. - -"No, no," she said quickly; "that's where it's hard--when you're beaten. -But do you consider yourself beaten?" - -"Up to now, certainly." - -"And you really are not convinced?" she asked, eyeing him with a look -of candid appeal to his better nature. - -"It is your fault, Mrs. Witt." - -"My fault?" - -"Yes. Why are you so hard to forget?" George thought there was no harm -in putting it in a pleasant way. - -"Ah, why was Miss--now is it Game or Games?--so hard to forget?" - -"It is, or rather was, Game. And I suppose she was hard to forget for -the same reason as you--would be." - -"And what is that?" - -"If you ask my cousin, no doubt he will tell you." - -Neaera smiled. - -"What more can I do?" she asked. "Your people didn't know me. I have -produced a letter showing I was somewhere else." - -"Excuse me----" - -"Well, well, then, a copy of a letter." - -"What purports to be a copy." - -"How glad I am I'm not a lawyer! It seems to make people so suspicious." - -"It's a great pity you didn't keep the original." - -Neaera said nothing. Perhaps she did not agree. - -"But I suppose you didn't send for me to argue about the matter?" - -"No. I sent for you to propose peace. Mr. Neston, I am so weary of -fighting. Why will you make me fight?" - -"It's not for my pleasure," said George. - -"For whose, then?" she asked, stretching out her arms with a gesture of -entreaty. "Cannot we say no more about it?" - -"With all my heart." - -"And you will admit you were wrong?" - -"That is saying more about it." - -"You cannot enjoy the position you are in." - -"I confess that." - -"Mr. Neston, do you never think it's possible you are wrong? But no, -never mind. Will you agree just to drop it?" - -"Heartily. But there's the _Bull's-eye_." - -"Oh, bother the _Bull's-eye_! I'll go and see the editor," said Neaera. - -"He's a stern man, Mrs. Witt." - -"He won't be so hard to deal with as you. There, that's settled. Hurrah! -Will you shake hands, Mr. Neston?" - -"By all means." - -"With a thief?" - -"With you, thief or no thief. And I must tell you you are very----" - -"What?" - -"Well, above small resentments." - -"Oh, what does it matter? Suppose I did take the boots?" - -"Shoes," said George. - -Neaera burst into a laugh. "You are very accurate." - -"And you are very inaccurate, Mrs. Witt." - -"I shall always be amused when I meet you. I shall know you have your -hand on your watch." - -"Oh yes. I retract nothing." - -"Then it is peace?" - -"Yes." - -Neaera sat up and gave him her hand, and the peace was ratified. But it -so chanced that Neaera's sudden movement roused the cat. He yawned and -got up, arching his back, and digging his claws into the hearth-rug. - -"Bob," said Neaera, "don't spoil the rug." - -George's attention was directed to the animal, and, as he looked at it, -he started. Bob's change of posture had revealed a serious deficiency: -he had no tail, or the merest apology for a tail. - -It was certainly an odd coincidence, perhaps nothing more, but a very -odd coincidence, that George should have seen in the courtyard at -Peckton Gaol no less than three tailless cats! Of course there are a -good many in the world; but still most cats have tails. - -"I like a black cat, don't you?" said Neaera. "He's nice and Satanic." - -The Peckton cats were black, too,--black as ink or the heart of a -money-lender. - -"An old favourite?" asked George, insidiously. - -"I've had him a good many years. Oh!" - -The last word slipped from Neaera involuntarily. - -"Why 'oh!'?" - -"I'd forgotten his milk," answered Neaera, with extraordinary -promptitude. - -"Where did you get him?" - -Neaera was quite calm again. "Some friends gave him me. Please don't say -I stole my cat, too, Mr. Neston." - -George smiled; indeed, he almost laughed. "Well, it is peace, Mrs. -Witt," he said, taking his hat. "But remember!" - -"What?" said Neaera, who was still smiling and cordial, but rather less -at her ease than before. - -"A cat may tell a tale, though he bear none." - -"What do you mean?" - -"If it is ever war again, I will tell you. Good-bye, Mrs. Witt." - -"Good-bye. Please don't have poor Bob arrested. He didn't steal the -boots--oh, the shoes, at any rate." - -"I expect he was in prison already." - -Neaera shook her head with an air of bewilderment. "I really don't -understand you. But I'm glad we're not enemies any longer." - -George departed, but Neaera sat down on the rug and gazed into the fire. -Presently Bob came to look after the forgotten milk. He rubbed himself -right along Neaera's elbow, beginning from his nose, down to the end of -what he called his tail. - -"Ah, Bob," said Neaera, "what do you want? Milk, dear? 'Good for evil, -milk for----'" - -Bob purred and capered. Neaera gave him his milk, and stood looking at -him. - -"How would you like to be drowned, dear?" she asked. - -The unconscious Bob lapped on. - -Neaera stamped her foot. "He shan't! He shan't! He shan't!" she -exclaimed. "Not an inch! Not an inch!" - -Bob finished his milk and looked up. - -"No, dear, you shan't be drowned. Don't be afraid." - -As Bob knew nothing about drowning, and only meant that he wanted more -milk, he showed no gratitude for his reprieve. Indeed, seeing there was -to be no more milk, he pointedly turned his back, and began to wash his -face. - - - - -CHAPTER VIII. - -THE FRACAS AT MRS. POCKLINGTON'S. - - -"I never heard anything so absurd in all my life," said Mr. Blodwell, -with emphasis. - -George had just informed him of the treaty between himself and Neaera. -He had told his tale with some embarrassment. It is so difficult to make -people who were not present understand how an interview came to take the -course it did. - -"She seemed to think it all right," George said weakly. - -"Do you suppose you can shut people's mouths in that way?" - -"There are other ways," remarked George, grimly, for his temper began to -go. - -"There are," assented Mr. Blodwell; "and in these days, if you use them, -it's five pounds or a month, and a vast increase of gossip into the -bargain. What does Gerald say?" - -"Gerald? Oh, I don't know. I suppose Mrs. Witt can manage him." - -"Do you? I doubt it. Gerald isn't over easy to manage. Think of the -position you leave him in!" - -"He believes in her." - -"Yes, but he won't be content unless other people do. Of course they'll -say she squared you." - -"Squared me!" exclaimed George, indignantly. - -"Upon my soul, I'm not sure she hasn't." - -"Of course you can say what you please, sir. From you I can't resent -it." - -"Come, don't be huffy. Bright eyes have their effect on everybody. By -the way, have you seen Isabel Bourne lately?" - -"No." - -"Heard from her?" - -"She sent me a message through Tommy Myles." - -"Is he in her confidence?" - -"Apparently. The effect of it was, that she didn't want to see me till I -had come to my senses." - -"In those words?" - -"Those were Tommy's words." - -"Then relations are strained?" - -"Miss Bourne is the best judge of whom she wishes to see." - -"Quite so," said Mr. Blodwell, cheerfully. "At present she seems to wish -to see Myles. Well, well, George, you'll have to come to your knees at -last." - -"Mrs. Witt doesn't require it." - -"Gerald will." - -"Gerald be---- But I've never told you of my fresh evidence." - -"Oh, you're mad! What's in the wind now?" - -Five minutes later, George flung himself angrily out of Mr. Blodwell's -chambers, leaving that gentleman purple and palpitating with laughter, -as he gently re-echoed, - -"The cat! Go to the jury on the cat, George, my boy!" - -To George, in his hour of adversity, Mrs. Pocklington was as a tower -of strength. She said that the Nestons might squabble among themselves -as much as they liked; it was no business of hers. As for the affair -getting into the papers, her visiting-list would suffer considerably -if she cut out everybody who was wrongly or, she added significantly, -rightly abused in the papers. George Neston might be mistaken, but he -was an honest young man, and for her part she thought him an agreeable -one--anyhow, a great deal too good for that insipid child, Isabel -Bourne. If anybody didn't like meeting him at her house, they could stay -away. Poor Laura Pocklington protested that she hated and despised -George, but yet couldn't stay away. - -"Then, my dear," said Mrs. Pocklington, tartly, "you can stay in the -nursery." - -"It's too bad!" exclaimed Laura. "A man who says such things isn't -fit----" - -Mrs. Pocklington shook her head gently. Mr. Pocklington's Radical -principles extended no more to his household than to his business. - -"Laura dear," she said, in pained tones, "I do so dislike argument." - -So George went to dinner at Mrs. Pocklington's, and that lady, -remorseless in parental discipline, sent Laura down to dinner with him; -and, as everybody knows, there is nothing more pleasing and interesting -than a pretty girl in a dignified pet. George enjoyed himself. It was -a long time since he had flirted; but really now, considering Isabel's -conduct, he felt at perfect liberty to conduct himself as seemed to -him good. Laura was an old friend, and George determined to see how -implacable her wrath was. - -"It's so kind of you to give me this pleasure," he began. - -"Pleasure?" said Laura, in her loftiest tone. - -"Yes; taking you down, you know." - -"Mamma made me." - -"Ah, now you're trying to take me down." - -"I wonder you can look any one in the face----" - -"I always enjoy looking you in the face." - -"After the things you've said about poor Neaera!" - -"Neaera?" - -"Why shouldn't I call her Neaera?" - -"Oh, no reason at all. It may even be her name." - -"A woman who backbites is bad, but a man----" - -"Is the deuce?" said George inquiringly. - -Laura tried another tack. "All your friends think you wrong, even -mamma." - -"What does that matter, as long as you think I'm right?" - -"I don't; I don't. I think----" - -"That it's great fun to torment a poor man who----" - -George paused. - -"Who what?" said Laura, with deplorable weakness. - -"Values your good opinion very highly." - -"Nonsense!" - -George permitted himself to sigh deeply. A faint twitching betrayed -itself about the corners of Laura's pretty mouth. - -"If you want to smile, I will look away," said George. - -"You're very foolish," said Laura; and George knew that this expression -on a lady's lips is not always one of disapproval. - -"I am, indeed," said he, "to spend my time in a vain pursuit." - -"Of Neaera?" - -"No, not of Neaera." - -"I should never," said Laura, demurely, "have referred to Miss Bourne, -if you hadn't, but as you have----" - -"I didn't." - -Presumably George explained whom he did refer to, and apparently the -explanation took the rest of dinner-time. And as the ladies went -upstairs, Mrs. Pocklington patted Laura's shoulder with an approving -fan. - -"There's a good child! It shows breeding to be agreeable to people you -dislike." - -Laura blushed a little, but answered dutifully, "I am glad you are -pleased, mamma." Most likely she did not impose on Mrs. Pocklington. She -certainly did not on herself. - -George found himself left next to Sidmouth Vane. - -"Hallo, Neston!" said that young gentleman, with his usual freedom. -"Locked her up yet?" - -George said Mrs. Witt was still at large. Vane had been his fag, and -George felt he was entitled to take it out of him in after life whenever -he could. - -"Wish you would," continued Mr. Vane. "That ass of a cousin of yours -would jilt her, and I would wait outside Holloway or Clerkenwell, or -wherever they put 'em, and receive her sympathetically--hot breakfast, -brass band, first cigar for six months, and all that, don't you know, -like one of those Irish fellows." - -"You have no small prejudices." - -"Not much. A girl like that, _plus_ an income like that, might steal all -Northampton for what I care. Going upstairs?" - -"Yes; there's an 'At Home' on, isn't there?" - -"Yes, so I'm told. I shouldn't go, if I were you." - -"Why the devil not?" - -"Gerald's going to be there--told me so." - -"Really, Vane, you're very kind. We shan't fight." - -"I don't know about that. He's simply mad." - -"Anything new?" - -"Yes; he told me you'd been trying to square Mrs. Witt behind his back, -and he meant to have it out with you." - -"Well," said George, "I won't run. Come along." - -The guests were already pouring in, and among the first George -encountered was Mr. Dennis Espion, as over-strained as ever. Espion -knew that George was aware of his position on the _Bull's-eye_. - -"Ah, how are you, Neston?" he said, holding out his hand. - -George looked at it for a moment, and then took it. - -"I support life and your kind attentions, Espion." - -"Ah! well, you know, we can't help it--a matter of public interest. I -hope you see our position----" - -"Yes," said George, urbanely; "_Il faut vivre._" - -"I don't suppose you value our opinion, but----" - -"Oh yes; I value it at a penny--every evening." - -"I was going to say----" - -"Keep it, my dear fellow. What you say has market value--to the extent I -have mentioned." - -"My dear Neston, may I----" - -"Consider this an interview? My dear Espion, certainly. Make any use of -this communication you please. Good night." - -George strolled away. "Suppose I was rather rude," he said to himself. -"But, hang it, I must have earned that fellow fifty pounds!" - -George was to earn Mr. Espion a little more yet, as it turned out. He -had not gone many steps before he saw his cousin Gerald making his bow -to Mrs. Pocklington. Mr. Espion saw him too, and was on the alert. -Gerald was closely followed by Tommy Myles. - -"Ah, the enemy!" exclaimed George under his breath, pursuing his way -towards Laura Pocklington. - -The throng was thick, and his progress slow. He had time to observe -Gerald, who was now talking to Tommy and to Sidmouth Vane, who had -joined them. Gerald was speaking low, but his gestures betrayed strong -excitement. Suddenly he began to walk rapidly towards George, the people -seeming to fall aside from his path. Tommy Myles followed him, while -Vane all but ran to George and whispered eagerly, - -"For God's sake, clear out, my dear fellow! He's mad! There'll be a -shindy, as sure as you're born!" - -George did not like shindies, especially in drawing-rooms; but he liked -running away less. "Oh, let's wait and see," he replied. - -Gerald was looking dangerous. The healthy ruddiness of his cheek had -darkened to a deep flush, his eyes looked vicious, and his mouth was -set. As he walked quickly up to his cousin, everybody tried to look -away; but out of the corners of two hundred eyes eager glances centred -on the pair. - -"May I have a word with you?" Gerald began, calmly enough. - -"As many as you like; but I don't know that this place----" - -"It will do for what I have to say," Gerald interrupted. - -"All right. What is it?" - -"I want two things of you. First, you will promise never to dare to -address my--Mrs. Witt again." - -"And the second?" asked George. - -"You will write and say you've told lies, and are sorry for it." - -"I address whom I please and write what I please." - -Vane interposed. - -"Really, Neston--you, Gerald, I mean--don't make a row here. Can't you -get him away, Tommy?" - -Gerald gave Tommy a warning look, and poor Tommy shook his head -mournfully. - -George felt the necessity of avoiding a scene. He began to move quietly -away. Gerald stood full in his path. - -"You don't go till you've answered. Will you do what I tell you?" - -"Really, Gerald," George began, still clinging to peace. - -"Yes or no?" - -"No," said George, with a smile and a shrug. - -"Then, you cur, take----" - -In another moment he would have struck George full in the face, but the -vigilant Vane caught his arm as he raised it. - -"You damned fool! Are you drunk?" he hissed into his ear. "Everybody's -looking." - -It was true. Everybody was. - -"All the better," Gerald blurted out. "I'll thrash him----" - -Tommy Myles ranged up and passed his hand through the angry man's other -arm. - -"Can't you go, George?" asked Vane. - -"No," said George, calmly; "not till he's quiet." - -The hush that had fallen on the room attracted Mrs. Pocklington's -attention. In a moment, as it seemed, though her movements were as a -rule slow and stately, she was beside them, just in time to see Gerald -make a violent effort to throw off Vane's detaining hand. - -"I cannot get anybody to go into the music-room," she said; "and the -signora is waiting to begin. Mr. Neston, give me your arm, and we will -show the way." Then her eyes seemed to fall for the first time on -George. "Oh, you here too, Mr. George? Laura is looking for you -everywhere. Do find her. Come, Mr. Neston. Mr. Vane, go and give your -arm to a lady." - -The group scattered, obedient to her commands, and everybody breathed -a little sigh, half of relief, half of disappointment, and told one -another that Mrs. Pocklington was a great woman. - -"In another second," said Tommy Myles, as he restored himself with a -glass of champagne, "it would have been a case of Bow Street!" - -"I think it fairly amounts to a _fracas_," said Mr. Espion to himself; -and as a _fracas_, accordingly, it figured. - - - - -CHAPTER IX. - -GERALD NESTON SATISFIES HIMSELF. - - -On the following morning, Lord Tottlebury sat as arbitrator, gave an -impartial consideration to both sides of the question, and awarded that -George should apologise for his charges, and Gerald for his violence. -Lord Tottlebury argued the case with ability, and his final judgment was -able and conclusive. Unfortunately, however, misled by the habit before -mentioned of writing to the papers about matters other than those which -immediately concerned him, Lord Tottlebury forgot that neither party had -asked him to adjudicate, and, although Maud Neston was quite convinced -by his reasoning, his award remained an opinion _in vacuo_; and the -two clear and full letters which he wrote expressing his views were -consigned by their respective recipients to the waste-paper basket. -Each of the young men thanked Lord Tottlebury for his kind efforts, but -feared that the unreasonable temper displayed by the other would render -any attempt at an arrangement futile. Lord Tottlebury sighed, and sadly -returned to his article on "What the Kaiser should do next." He was in a -hurry to finish it, because he also had on hand a reply to Professor -Dressingham's paper on "The Gospel Narrative and the Evolution of -_Crustacea_ in the Southern Seas." - -After his outburst, Gerald Neston had allowed himself to be taken home -quietly, and the next morning he had so far recovered his senses as to -promise Sidmouth Vane that he would not again have recourse to personal -violence. He said he had acted on a momentary impulse--which Vane did -not believe,--and, at any rate, nothing of the kind need be apprehended -again; but as for apologising, he should as soon think of blacking -George's boots. In fact, he was, on the whole, well pleased with -himself, and, in the course of the day, went off to Neaera to receive -her thanks and approval. - -He found her in very low spirits. She had been disappointed at the -failure of her arrangement with George, and half inclined to rebel at -Gerald's peremptory _veto_ on any attempt at hushing up the question. -She had timidly tried the line of pooh-poohing the whole matter, and -Gerald had clearly shown her that, in his opinion, it admitted of no -such treatment. She had not dared to ask him seriously if he would marry -her, supposing the accusation were true. A joking question of the kind -had been put aside as almost in bad taste, and, at any rate, ill-timed. -Consequently she was uneasy, and ready to be very miserable on the -slightest provocation. But to-day Gerald came in a different mood. He -was triumphant, aggressive, and fearless; and before he had been in the -room ten minutes, he broached his new design--a design that was to show -conclusively the esteem in which he held the vile slanders and their -utterer. - -"Be married directly! Oh, Gerald!" - -"Why not, darling? It will be the best answer to them." - -"What would your father say?" - -"I know he will approve. Why shouldn't he?" - -"But--but everybody is talking about me." - -"What do I care?" - -It suits some men to be in love, and Gerald looked very well as he threw -out his defiance _urbi et orbi_. Neaera was charmed and touched. - -"Gerald dear, you are too good--you are, indeed,--too good to me and too -good for me." - -Gerald said, in language too eloquent to be reproduced, that nobody -could help being "good" to her, and nobody in the world was good enough -for her. - -"And are you content to take me entirely on trust?" - -"Absolutely." - -"While I am under this shadow?" - -"You are under no shadow. I take your word implicitly, as I would take -it against gods and men." - -"Ah, I don't deserve it." - -"Who could look in your eyes"--Gerald was doing so--"and think of -deceit? Why do you look away, sweetheart?" - -"I daren't--I daren't!" - -"What?" - -"Be--be--trusted like that!" - -Gerald smiled. "Very well; then you shan't be. I will treat you as -if--as if I _doubted_ you. Then will you be satisfied?" - -Neaera tried to smile at this pleasantry. She was kneeling by Gerald's -chair as she often did, looking up at him. - -"Doubted me?" she said. - -"Yes, since you won't let your eyes speak for you, I will put you to the -question. Will that be enough?" - -Poor Neaera! she thought it would be quite enough. - -"And I will ask you, what I have never condescended to ask yet, dearest, -if there's a word of truth in it all?" Gerald, still playfully, took one -of her hands and raised it aloft. "Now look at me and say--what shall be -your oath?" - -Neaera was silent. This passed words; every time she spoke she made it -worse. - -"I know," pursued Gerald, who was much pleased with his little comedy. -"Say this, 'On my honour and love, I am not the girl.'" - -Why hadn't she let him alone with his nonsense about her eyes? That was -not, to Neaera's thinking, as bad as a lie direct. "On her honour and -love!" She could not help hesitating for just a moment. - -"I am not the girl, on my honour and love." Her words came almost with a -sob, a stifled sob, that made Gerald full of remorse and penitence, and -loud in imprecations on his own stupidity. - -"It was all a joke, sweetest," he pleaded; "but it was a stupid joke, -and it has distressed you. Did you dream I doubted you?" - -"No." - -"Well, then, say you knew it was a joke." - -"Yes, dear, I know it was,--of course it was; but it--it rather -frightened me." - -"Poor child! Never mind; you'll be amused when you think of it -presently. And, my darling, it really, seriously, does make me happier. -I never doubted, but it is pleasant to hear the truth from your own -sweet lips. Now I am ready for all the world. And what about the day?" - -"The day?" - -"Of course you don't know what day! Shall it be directly?" - -"What does 'directly' mean?" asked Neaera, mustering a rather watery -smile. - -"In a week." - -"Gerald!" - -But, after the usual negotiations, Neaera was brought to consent to that -day three weeks, provided Lord Tottlebury's approval was obtained. - -"And, please, don't quarrel with your cousin any more!" - -"I can afford to let him alone now." - -"And---- Are you going, Gerald?" - -"No time to lose. I'm off to see the governor, and I shall come back and -fetch you to dine in Portman Square. Good-bye for an hour, darling!" - -"Gerald, suppose----" - -"Well!" - -"If--if---- No, nothing. Good-bye, dear; and----" - -"What is it, sweet?" - -"Nothing--well, and don't be long." - -Gerald departed in raptures. As soon as he was out of the room, the -tailless cat emerged from under the sofa. He hated violent motion of -all kinds, and lovers are restless beings. Now, thank heaven! there was -a chance of lying on the hearth-rug without being trodden upon! - -"Did you hear that, Bob?" asked Neaera. "I--I went the whole hog, didn't -I?" - -Lord Tottlebury, who was much less inflexible than he seemed, did not -hold out long against Gerald's vehemence, and the news soon spread -that defiance was to be hurled in George's face. The _Bull's-eye_ was -triumphant. Isabel Bourne and Maud Neston made a hero of Gerald and a -heroine of Neaera. Tommy Myles hastened to secure the position of "best -man," and Sidmouth Vane discovered and acknowledged a deep worldly -wisdom in Gerald's conduct. - -"Of course," said he to Mr. Blodwell, on the terrace, "if it came out -before the marriage, he'd stand pledged to throw her over, with the -cash. But afterwards! Well, it won't affect the settlement, at all -events." - -Mr. Blodwell said he thought Gerald had not been actuated by this -motive. - -"Depend upon it, he has," persisted Vane. "Before marriage, the deuce! -After marriage, a little weep and three months on the Riviera!" - -"Oh, I suppose, if it came out after marriage, George would hold his -tongue." - -"Do you, by Jove? Then he'd be the most forgiving man in Europe. Why, -he's been hunted down over the business--simply hunted down!" - -"That's true. No, I suppose he'd be bound to have his revenge." - -"Revenge! He'd have to justify himself." - -Mr. Blodwell had the curiosity to pursue the subject with George -himself. - -"After the marriage? Oh, I don't know. I should like to score off the -lot of them." - -"Naturally," said Mr. Blodwell. - -"At any rate, if I find out anything before, I shall let them have it. -They haven't spared me." - -"Anything new?" - -"Yes. They've got the committee at the Themis to write and tell me that -it's awkward to have Gerald and me in the same club." - -"That's strong." - -"I have to thank Master Tommy for that. Of course it means that I'm to -go; but I won't. If they like to kick me out, they can." - -"What's Tommy Myles so hot against you for?" - -"Oh, those girls have got hold of him--Maud, and Isabel Bourne." - -"Isabel Bourne?" - -"Yes," said George, meeting Mr. Blodwell's questioning eye. "Tommy has a -mind to try his luck there, I think." - -"_Vice_ you retired." - -"Well, retired or turned out. It's like the army, you know; the two come -to pretty much the same thing." - -"You must console yourself, my boy," said Mr. Blodwell, slyly. He -heard of most things, and he had heard of Mrs. Pocklington's last -dinner-party. - -"Oh, I'm an outcast now. No one would look at me." - -"Don't be a humbug, George. Go and see Mrs. Pocklington, and, for -heaven's sake let me get to my work." - -It was Mr. Blodwell's practice to inveigle people into long gossips, and -then abuse them for wasting his time; so George was not disquieted by -the reproach. But he took the advice, and called in Grosvenor Square. He -found Mrs. Pocklington in, but she was not alone. Her visitor was a very -famous person, hitherto known to George only by repute,--the Marquis of -Mapledurham. - -The Marquis was well known on the turf and also as a patron of art, but -it is necessary to add that more was known of him than was known to his -advantage. In fact, he gave many people the opportunity of saying they -would not count him among their acquaintances; and he gave very few of -them the chance of breaking their word. He and Mrs. Pocklington amused -one another, and, whatever he did, he never said anything that was open -to complaint. - -For some time George talked to Laura. Laura, having once come over to -his side, was full of a convert's zeal, and poured abundant oil and wine -into his wounds. - -"How could I ever have looked at Isabel Bourne when she was there?" he -began to think. - -"Mr. Neston," said Mrs. Pocklington, "Lord Mapledurham wants to know -whether you are _the_ Mr. Neston." - -"Mrs. Pocklington has betrayed me, Mr. Neston," said the Marquis. - -"I am one of the two Mr. Nestons, I suppose," said George, smiling. - -"Mr. George Neston?" asked the Marquis. - -"Yes." - -"And you let him come here, Mrs. Pocklington?" - -"Ah, you know my house is a caravanserai. I heard you remark it yourself -the other day." - -"I shall go," said the Marquis, rising. "And, Mrs. Pocklington, I shall -be content if you say nothing worse of my house. Good-bye, Miss Laura. -Mr. Neston, I shall have a small party of bachelors to-morrow. It will -be very kind if you will join us. Dinner at eight." - -"See what it is to be an abused man," said Mrs. Pocklington, laughing. - -"In these days the wicked must stand shoulder to shoulder," said the -Marquis. - -George accepted; in truth, he was rather flattered. And Mrs. Pocklington -went away for quite a quarter of an hour. So that, altogether, he -returned to the opinion that life is worth living, before he left the -house. - - - - -CHAPTER X. - -REMINISCENCES OF A NOBLEMAN. - - -Once upon a time, many years before this story begins, a certain lady -said, and indeed swore with an oath, that Lord Mapledurham had promised -to marry her, and claimed ten thousand pounds as damages for the breach -of that promise. Lord Mapledurham said his memory was treacherous about -such things, and he never contradicted a lady on a question of fact: but -the amount which his society was worth seemed fairly open to difference -of opinion, and he asked a jury of his countrymen to value it. This -_cause célèbre_, for such it was in its day, did not improve Lord -Mapledurham's reputation, but, on the other hand, it made Mr. -Blodwell's. That gentleman reduced the damages to one thousand, and -Lord Mapledurham said that his cross-examination of the plaintiff was -quite worth the money. Since then, the two had been friends, and Mr. -Blodwell prided himself greatly on his intimacy with such an exclusive -person as the Marquis. George enjoyed his surprise at the announcement -that they would meet that evening at the dinner-party. - -"Why the dickens does he ask you?" - -"Upon my honour, I don't know." - -"It will destroy the last of your reputation." - -"Oh, not if you are there, sir." - -When George arrived at Lord Mapledurham's, he found nobody except his -host and Mr. Blodwell. - -"I must apologize for having nobody to meet you, Mr. Neston, except an -old friend. I asked young Vane--whose insolence amuses me,--and -Fitzderham, but they couldn't come." - -"Three's a good number," said Mr. Blodwell. - -"If they're three men. But two men and a woman, or two women and a -man--awful!" - -"Well, we are men, though George is a young one." - -"I don't feel very young," said George, smiling, as they sat down. - -"I am fifty-five," said the Marquis, "and I feel younger every day,--not -in body, you know, for I'm chockful of ailments; but in mind. I am -growing out of all the responsibilities of this world." - -"And of the next?" asked Blodwell. - -"In the next everything is arranged for us, pleasantly or otherwise. As -to this one, no one expects anything more of me--no work, no good deeds, -no career, no nothing. It's a delicious freedom." - -"You never felt your bonds much." - -"No; but they were there, and every now and then they dragged on my -feet." - -"Your view of old age is comforting," said George. - -"Only, George, if you want to realize it, you must not marry," said Mr. -Blodwell. - -"No, no," said the Marquis. "By the way, Blodwell, why did you never -marry?" - -"Too poor, till too late," said Mr. Blodwell, briefly. - -The Marquis raised his glass, and seemed to drink a respectful toast to -a dead romance. - -"And you, Lord Mapledurham?" George ventured to ask. - -"Ay, ask him!" said Mr. Blodwell. "Perhaps his reason will be less sadly -commonplace." - -"I don't know," said the Marquis, pondering. "Some of them expected it, -and that disgusted me. And some of them didn't, and that disgusted me -too." - -"You put the other sex into rather a difficult position," remarked -George, laughing. - -"Nothing to what they've put me into. Eh, Blodwell?" - -"Now, tell me, Mapledurham," said Mr. Blodwell, who was in a serious -mood to-night. "On the whole, have you enjoyed your life?" - -"I have wasted opportunities, talents, substance--everything: and -enjoyed it confoundedly. I am no use even as a warning." - -"Ask a parson," said Mr. Blodwell, dryly. - -"I remember," the Marquis went on, dreamily, "an old ruffian--another -old ruffian--saying just the same sort of thing one night. I was at -Liverpool for the Cup. Well, in the evening, I got tired of the other -fellows, and went out for a turn; and down a back street, I found an -old chap sitting on a doorstep,--a dirty old fellow, but uncommonly -picturesque, with a long grey beard. As I came by, he was just trying to -get up, but he staggered and fell back again." - -"Drunk?" asked Mr. Blodwell. - -The Marquis nodded. "I gave him a hand, and asked if I could do anything -for him. 'Yes, give me a drink,' says he. I told him he was drunk -already, but he said that made no odds, so I helped him to the nearest -gin-palace." - -"Behold this cynic's unacknowledged kindnesses!" said Mr. Blodwell. - -"Sat him down in a chair, and gave him liquor. - -"'Do you enjoy getting drunk?' I asked him, just as you asked me if I -had enjoyed life. - -"His drink didn't interfere with his tongue, it only seemed to take him -in the legs. He put down his glass, and made me a little speech. - -"'Liquor,' says he, 'has been my curse; it's broken up my home, spoilt -my work, destroyed my character, sent me and mine to gaol and shame. God -bless liquor! say I.' - -"I told him he was an old beast, much as you, Blodwell, told me I was, -in a politer way. He only grinned, and said, 'If you're a gentleman, -you'll see me home. Lying in the gutter costs five shillings, next -morning, and I haven't got it.' - -"'All right,' said I; and after another glass we started out. He knew -the way, and led me through a lot of filthy places to one of the meanest -dens I ever saw. A red-faced, red-armed, red-voiced (you know what I -mean) woman opened the door, and let fly a cloud of Billingsgate at him. -The old chap treated her with lofty courtesy. - -"'Quite true, Mrs. Bort,' says he; 'you're always right: I have ruined -myself.' - -"'And yer darter!' shrieked the woman. - -"'And my daughter. And I am drunk now, and hope to be drunk to-morrow.' - -"'Ah! you old beast!' said she, just as I had, shaking her fist. - -"He turned round to me, and said, 'I am obliged to you, sir. I don't -know your name.' - -"'You wouldn't be better off if you did,' says I. 'You couldn't drink -it.' - -"'Will you give me a sovereign?' he asked. 'A week's joy, sir,--a week's -joy and life.' - -"'Give it me,' said the woman, 'then me and she'll get something to eat, -to keep us alive.' - -"I'm a benevolent man at bottom, Mr. Neston, as Blodwell remarks. I -said, - -"'Here's a sovereign for you and her' (I supposed she meant the -daughter) 'to help in keeping you alive; and here's a sovereign for you, -sir, to help in killing you--and the sooner the better, say I.' - -"'You're right,' said he. 'The liquor's beginning to lose its taste. And -when that's gone, Luke Gale's gone!'" - -"Luke who?" burst from the two men. - -Lord Mapledurham looked up. "What's the matter? Gale, I think. I found -out afterwards that the old animal had painted water-colours--the only -thing he had to do with water." - -"The Lord hath delivered her into your hand," said Mr. Blodwell to -George. - -"Are you drunk too, Blodwell?" asked the Marquis. - -"No; but----" - -"What was the woman's name?" asked George, taking out a note-book. - -"Bort. Going to tell me?" - -"Well, if you don't mind----" - -"Not a bit. Tell me later on, if it's amusing. There are so precious few -amusing things." - -"You didn't see the daughter, did you?" - -"Oh, of course it's the daughter! No." - -"Did you ever know a man named Witt?" - -"Never; but, Mr. Neston, I have heard of a Mrs. Witt. Now, Blodwell, -either out with it, or shut up and let's talk of something else." - -"The latter, please," said Mr. Blodwell, urbanely. - -And the Marquis, who had out-grown the vanity of desiring to know -everything, made no effort to recur to the subject. Only, as George -took his leave, he received a piece of advice, together with a cordial -invitation to come again. - -"Excuse me, Mr. Neston," said the Marquis. "I fancy I have given you -some involuntary assistance to-night." - -"I hope so. I shall know in a day or two." - -"To like to be right, Mr. Neston, is the last weakness of a wise man; to -like to be thought right is the inveterate prejudice of fools." - -"That last is a hard saying, my lord," said George, with a laugh. - -"It really depends mostly on your income," answered the Marquis. -"Good-night, Mr. Neston." - -George said good-night, and walked off, shrugging his shoulders at the -thought that even so acute a man as Lord Mapledurham seemed unable to -appreciate his position. - -"They all want me to drop it," he mused. "Well, I will, unless----! But -to-morrow I'll go to Liverpool." - -He was restless and excited. Home and bed seemed unacceptable, and he -turned into the Themis Club, whence the machinations of the enemy had -not yet ejected him. There, extended on a sofa and smoking a cigar, he -found Sidmouth Vane. - -"Why didn't you come to Lord Mapledurham's, Vane?" asked George. - -"Oh, have you been there? I was dining with my chief. I didn't know you -knew Mapledurham." - -"I met him yesterday for the first time." - -"He's a queer old sinner," said Vane. "But have you heard the news?" - -"No. Is there any?" - -"Tommy Myles has got engaged." - -George started. He had a presentiment of the name of the lady. - -"Pull yourself together, my dear boy," continued Vane. "Bear it like a -man." - -"Don't be an ass, Vane. I suppose it's Miss Bourne?" - -Vane nodded. "It would really be amusing," he said, "if you'd tell me -honestly how you feel. But, of course, you won't. You've begun already -to look as if you'd never heard of Miss Bourne." - -"Bosh!" said George. - -"Now, I always wonder why fellows do that. When I've been refused by a -girl, and----" - -"I beg your pardon," said George. "I haven't been refused by Miss -Bourne." - -"Well, you would have been, you know. It comes to the same thing." - -George laughed. "I dare say I should; but I never meant to expose myself -to such a fate." - -"George, my friend, do you think you're speaking the truth?" - -"I am speaking the truth." - -"Not a bit of it," responded Vane, calmly. "A couple of months ago you -meant to ask her; and, what's more, she'd have had you." - -George was dimly conscious that this might be so. - -"It isn't my moral," Vane went on. - -"Your moral?" - -"No. I took it from the _Bull's-eye_." - -George groaned. - -"They announce the marriage to-night, and add that they have reason to -believe that the engagement has come about largely through the joint -interest of the parties in _l'affaire Neston_." - -"I should say they are unusually accurate." - -"Meaning thereby, to those who have eyes, that she's jilted you because -of your goings-on, and taken up with Tommy. In consequence, you are -to-night 'pointing a moral and adorning a tale.'" - -"The devil!" - -"Yes, not very soothing, is it? But so it is. I looked in at Mrs. -Pocklington's, and they were all talking about it." - -"The Pocklingtons were?" - -"Yes. And they asked me----" - -"Who asked you?" - -"Oh, Violet Fitzderham and Laura Pocklington,--if it was the fact that -you were in love with Miss Bourne." - -"And what did you say?" - -"I said it was matter of notoriety." - -"Confound your gossip! There's not a word of truth in it." - -"I didn't say there was. I said it was a matter of notoriety. So it -was." - -"And did they believe it?" - -"Did who believe it?" asked Vane, smiling slightly. - -"Oh, Miss Pocklington, and--and the other girl." - -"Yes, Miss Pocklington and the other girl, I think, believed it." - -"What did they say?" - -"The other girl said it served you right." - -"And----?" - -"And Miss Pocklington said it was time for some music." - -"Upon my soul, it's too bad!" - -"My dear fellow, you know you were in love with her--in your fishlike -kind of way. Only you've forgotten it. One does forget it when----" - -"Well?" asked George. - -"When one's in love with another girl. Ah, George, you can't escape my -eagle eye! I saw your game, and I did you a kindness." - -George thought it no use trying to keep his secret. "That's your idea of -a kindness, is it?" - -"Certainly. I've made her jealous." - -"Really," said George, haughtily, "I think this discussion of ladies' -feelings is hardly in good taste." - -"Quite right, old man," answered Vane, imperturbably. "It's lucky that -didn't strike you before you'd heard all you wanted to." - -"I say, Vane," said George, leaning forward, "did she seem----" - -"Miss Pocklington, or the other girl?" - -"Oh, damn the other girl! Did she, Vane, old boy?" - -"Yes, she did, a little, George, old boy." - -"I'm a fool," said George. - -"Oh, I don't know," said Vane, tolerantly. "I'm always a fool myself -about these things." - -"I must go and see them to-morrow. No, I can't go to-morrow; I have to -go out of town." - -"Ah! where?" - -"Liverpool, on business." - -"Liverpool, on business! Dear me! I'll tell you another odd thing, -George,--a coincidence." - -"Well?" - -"You're going to Liverpool to-morrow on business. Well, to-day, Mrs. -Witt went to Liverpool on business." - -"The devil!" said George, for the second time. - - - - -CHAPTER XI. - -PRESENTING AN HONEST WOMAN. - - -To fit square pegs into round holes is one of the favourite pastimes of -Nature. She does it roughly, violently, and with wanton disregard of the -feelings of the square pegs. When, in her relentless sport, she has at -last driven the poor peg in and made it fit, by dint of knocking off and -abrading all its corners, philosophers glorify her, calling the process -evolution, and plain men wonder why she did not begin at the other end, -and make the holes square to fit the pegs. - -The square peg on which these trite reflections hang is poor Neaera -Witt. Nature made her a careless, ease-loving, optimistic creature, only -to drive her, of malice prepense, into an environment--that is to say, -in unscientific phrase, a hole--where she had need of the equipment of -a full-blooded conspirator. - -She resisted the operation; she persistently trusted to chance to -extricate her from the toils into which she, not being a philosopher, -thought chance had thrown her. If she saw a weapon ready to her hand, -she used it, as she had used the Bournemouth character, but for the most -part she trusted to luck. George Neston would fail, or he would relent; -or Gerald would be invincibly incredulous, or, she would add, smiling -at her face in the glass, invincibly in love. Somehow or other matters -would straighten themselves out; and, at the worst, ten days more would -bring the marriage; and after the marriage---- But really, ten days -ahead is as far as one can be expected to look, especially when the ten -days include one's wedding. - -Nevertheless, Sidmouth Vane had a knack of being correct in his -information, and he was correct in stating that Neaera had gone to -Liverpool on business. It was, of course, merely a guess that her errand -might be connected with George's, but it happened to be a right guess. -Neaera knew well the weak spot in her armour. Hitherto she had been -content to trust to her opponent not discovering it; but, as the -decisive moment came nearer, a nervous restlessness so far overcame her -natural _insouciance_ as to determine her to an effort to complete her -defences, in anticipation of any assault upon them. She was in happy -ignorance of the chance that had directed George's forces against her -vulnerable point, and imagined that she herself was, in all human -probability, the only person in London to whom the name of Mrs. Bort -would be more than an unmeaning uneuphonious syllable. To her the name -was full of meaning; for, from her youth till the day of the happy -intervention of that stout and elderly _deus ex machina_, the late Mr. -Witt, Mrs. Bort had been to Neaera the impersonation of virtue and -morality, and the physical characteristics that had caught Lord -Mapledurham's frivolous attention had been to her merely the frowning -aspect under which justice and righteousness are apt to present -themselves. - -Neaera was a good-hearted girl, and Mrs. Bort now lived on a comfortable -pension, but no love mingled with the sense of duty that inspired the -gift. Mrs. Bort had interpreted her quasi-maternal authority with the -widest latitude, and Neaera shuddered to remember how often Mrs. Bort's -discipline had made her smart, in a way, against which apathy of -conscience was no shield or buckler. Recorder Dawkins would have groaned -to know how even judicial terrors paled in Neaera's recollection before -the image of Mrs. Bort. - -These childish fears are hard to shake off, and Neaera, as she sped -luxuriously to Liverpool, acknowledged to herself that, in that dreadful -presence, no adventitious glories of present wealth or future rank would -avail her. The governing fact in the situation, the fact that Neaera did -not see her way to meet, was that Mrs. Bort was an honest woman. Neaera -knew her, and knew that a bribe would be worse than useless, even if she -dared to offer it. - -"And I don't think," said Neaera, resting her pretty chin upon her -pretty hand, "that I should dare." Then she laughed ruefully. "I'm not -at all sure she wouldn't beat me; and if she did, what could I do?" - -Probably Neaera exaggerated even the fearless rectitude of Mrs. Bort, -but she was so convinced of the nature of the reception which any -proposal of the obvious kind would meet with that she made up her mind -that her only course was to throw herself on Mrs. Bort's mercy, in case -that lady proved deaf to a subtle little proposal which was Neaera's -first weapon. - -So far as Neaera knew, Peckton and Manchester were the only places in -which George Neston was likely to seek for traces of her. Liverpool, -though remote from Peckton, was uncomfortably near Manchester. Every day -now had great value. If she could get Mrs. Bort away to some remote spot -as soon as might be, she gained no small advantage in her race against -time and George Neston. - -"If she will only go to Glentarroch, he will never find her." - -Glentarroch was the name of a little retreat in remote Scotland, whither -Mr. Witt had been wont to betake himself for rest and recreation. It was -Neaera's now. It was a beautiful place, which was immaterial, and a -particularly inaccessible one, which was most material. Would not Mrs. -Bort's despotic instincts lead her to accept an invitation to rule over -Glentarroch? Neaera could not afford to pity the hapless wights over -whom Mrs. Bort would rule. - -Mrs. Bort received Neaera in a way most unbecoming to a pensioner. -"Well, Nery," she said, "what brings you here? No good, I'll be bound. -Where's your mourning?" - -Neaera said that she thought resignation to Heaven's will not a subject -of reproach, and that she came to ask a favour of Mrs. Bort. - -"Ay, you come to me when you want something. That's the old story." - -Neaera remembered that Mrs. Bort had often taken her own view of what -the supplicant wanted, and given something quite other than what was -asked; but, in spite of this unpromising opening, she persevered, and -laid before Mrs. Bort a dazzling picture of the grandeur waiting her at -Glentarroch. - -"And I shall be so much obliged. Really, I don't know what the -servants--the girls, especially--may be doing." - -"Carryings-on, I'll be bound," said Mrs. Bort. "Why don't you go -yourself, Nery?" - -"Oh, I can't, indeed. I--I must stay in London." - -"Nasty, cold, dull little place it sounds," said Mrs. Bort. - -"Oh, of course I shall consider all that----" - -"He--he!" Mrs. Bort sniggered unpleasantly. "So it ain't sech a sweet -spot, as ye call it, after all?" - -Neaera recovered herself without dignity, and stated that she thought of -forty pounds a year and all found. - -"Ah, if I knowed what you was at, Nery!" - -Neaera intimated that it was simply a matter of mutual accommodation. -"And there's really no time to be lost," she said, plaintively. "I'm -being robbed every day." - -"Widows has hard times," said Mrs. Bort. And Neaera did not think it -necessary to say how soon her hard times were coming to an end. - -"Come agin to-morrer afternoon, and I'll tell ye," was Mrs. Bort's -ultimatum. "And mind you don't get into mischief." - -"Why afternoon?" asked Neaera. - -"'Cause I'm washing," said Mrs. Bort, snappishly. "That's why." - -Neaera in vain implored an immediate answer. Mrs. Bort said a day could -not matter, and that, if Neaera pressed her farther, she should consider -it an indication that something was "up," and refuse to go at all. -Neaera was silenced, and sadly returned to her hotel. - -"How I hate that good, good woman!" she cried. "I'll never see her again -as long as I live, after to-morrow. Oh, I should like to hit her!" - -The propulsions of cause upon cause are, as Bacon has said, infinite. -If Mrs. Bort had not washed--in the technical sense, of course--on that -particular Friday, Neaera would have come and gone--perhaps even Mrs. -Bort might have gone too--before the train brought George Neston to -Liverpool, and his eager inquiries landed him at Mrs. Bort's abode. As -it was, Mrs. Bort's little servant bade him wait in the parlour, as her -mistress was talking to a female in the kitchen. The little servant -thought "female" the politest possible way of describing any person -who was not a man, and accorded the title to Neaera on account of her -rustling robes and gold-tipped parasol. - -George did not question his informant, thereby showing that he, in -the _rôle_ of detective, was a square peg in a round hole. He heard -proceeding from the kitchen a murmur of two subdued voices, one of -which, however, dominated the other. - -"That must be Mrs. Bort," thought he. "I wish I could hear the female." - -Then his attention wandered, for he made sure the unknown could not be -Neaera, as she had had a day's start of him. He did not allow for Mrs. -Bort's washing. Suddenly the dominant voice was raised to the pitch of -distinctness. - -"Have ye told him," it said, "or have ye lied to him, as you lied to me -yesterday?" - -"I didn't--I didn't," was the answer. "You never asked me if I was going -to be married." - -"Oh, go along! You know how I'd have answered that when ye lived with -me." - -"How's that?" asked George, with a slight smile. - -"Have ye told him?" - -"Told him what?" asked Neaera; for it was clearly Neaera. - -"Told him you're a thief." - -"This woman's a brute," thought George. - -"Have ye?" - -"No, not exactly. How dare you question me?" - -"Dare!" said Mrs. Bort; and George knew she was standing with her arms -akimbo. "Dare!" she repeated _crescendo_; and apparently her aspect was -threatening, for Neaera cried, - -"Oh, I didn't mean that. Do let me go." - -"Tell the truth, if your tongue'll do it. The truth, will ye?" - -"The deuce!" said George; for, following on this last speech, he heard a -sob. - -"No, I haven't. I--oh, do have mercy on me!" - -"Mercy! It's not mercy, it's a stick you want. But I'll tell him." - -"Ah, stop, for Heaven's sake!" - -There was a little scuffle; then the door flew open, and Mrs. Bort -appeared, with Neaera clinging helplessly about her knees. - -George rose and bowed politely. "I'm afraid I intrude," said he. - -"That's easy mended," said Mrs. Bort, with significance. - -Neaera had leapt up on seeing him, and leant breathless against the -door, looking like some helpless creature at bay. - -"Who let you in?" demanded the lady of the house. - -"Your servant." - -"I'll let _her_ in," said Mrs. Bort, darkly. "Who are ye?" - -George looked at Neaera. "My name is Neston," he said blandly. - -"Neston?" - -"Certainly." - -"Then you're in nice time; I wanted you, young man. D'ye see that -woman?" - -"Certainly; I see Mrs. Witt." - -"D'ye know what she is? Time you did, if you're a-going to take her to -church." - -Neaera started. - -"I hope to do so," said George, smiling; "and I think I know all about -her." - -"Do ye, now? Happen ever to have heard of Peckton?" - -Neaera buried her face in her hands, and cried. - -"Ah, pity you haven't something to cry for! Thought I'd see a sin done -for ten pound a month, did ye?" - -George interposed; he began to enjoy himself. "Peckton? Oh yes. The -shoes, you mean?" - -Mrs. Bort gasped. - -"A trifle," said George, waving the shoes into limbo. - -"Gracious! You ain't in the same line, are you?" - -George shook his head. - -"Anything else?" he asked, still smiling sweetly. - -"Only a trifle of forging," said Mrs. Bort. "But p'raps she got her -deserts from me over that." - -"Forging?" said George. "Oh ah, yes. You mean about----" - -"Her place at Bournemouth? Ah, Nery, don't you ache yet?" - -Apparently Neaera did. She shivered and moaned. - -"But I've got it," continued Nemesis; and, she bounded across the room -to a cupboard. "There, read that." - -George took it calmly, but read it with secret eagerness. It was the -original character, and stated that Miss Gale began her service in May, -not March, 1883. - -"I caught her a-copying it, and altering dates. My, how I did----" - -"Dear, dear!" interrupted George. "I was afraid it was something new. -Anything else, Mrs. Bort?" - -Mrs. Bort was beaten. - -"Go along," she said. "If you likes it, it's nothing to me. But lock up -your money-box." - -"Let me congratulate you, Mrs. Bort, on having done your duty." - -"I'm an honest woman," said Mrs. Bort. - -"Yes," answered George, "by the powers you are!" Then, turning to Mrs. -Witt, he added, "Shall we go--Neaera dear?" - -"You'll both of you die on the gallows," said Mrs. Bort. - -"Come, Neaera," said George. - -She took his arm and they went out, George giving the little servant a -handsome tip to recompense her for the prospect of being "let in" by her -mistress. - -George's cab was at the door. He handed Neaera in. She was still -half-crying and said nothing, except to tell him the name of her hotel. -Then he raised his hat, and watched her driven away, wiping his brow -with his handkerchief. - -"Pheugh!" said he, "I've done it now--and what an infernal shame it -is!" - - - - -CHAPTER XII. - -NOT BEFORE THOSE GIRLS! - - -It is a notorious fact that men of all ages and conditions quarrel, and -quarrel sometimes with violence. Women also, of a low social grade, are -not strangers to discord, and the pen of satire has not spared the -tiffs and wrangles that arise between elderly ladies of irreproachable -position, and between young ladies of possibly not irreproachable -morals. It is harder to believe, harder especially for young men whose -beards are yet soft upon their chins, that graceful gentle girlhood -quarrels too. Nobody would believe it, if there were not sisters in the -world; but, unhappily, in spite of the natural tendency to suppose that -all attributes distinctively earthy are confined to his own sisters, -and have no place in the sisters of his friends, a man of reflection, -checking his observations in the various methods suggested by logicians, -is forced to conclude that here is another instance of the old truth, -that a thing is not to be considered non-existent merely because it is -not visible to a person who is not meant to see it. This much apology -for the incident which follows is felt to be necessary in the interest -of the narrator's reputation for realism. - -The fact is that there had been what reporters call a "scene" at Mrs. -Pocklington's. It so fell out that Isabel Bourne, accompanied by Maud -Neston, called on Laura to receive congratulations. Laura did her duty, -felicitated her friend on Tommy in possession and Tommy's title in -reversion, and loyally suppressed her personal opinion on the part these -two factors had respectively played in producing the announced result. -Her forbearance was ill-requited; for Maud, by way of clinching the -matter and conclusively demonstrating the satisfactory position of -affairs, must needs remark, "And what a lesson it will be for George!" - -Laura said nothing. - -"Oh, you mustn't say that, dear," objected Isabel. "It's really not -right." - -"I shall say it," said Maud; "it's so exactly what he deserves, and I -know he feels it himself." - -"Did he tell you so?" asked Laura, pausing in the act of pouring out -tea. - -Maud laughed. - -"Hardly, dear. Besides, we are not on speaking terms. But Gerald and Mr. -Myles both said so." - -"Gerald and Mr. Myles!" said Laura. - -"Please, don't talk about it," interposed Isabel. "What has happened -made no difference." - -"Why, Isabel, you couldn't have him after----" - -"No," said Isabel; "but perhaps, Maud, I shouldn't have had him before." - -"Of course you wouldn't, dear. You saw his true character." - -"You never actually refused him, did you?" inquired Laura. - -"No, not exactly." - -"Then what did you say?" - -"What did I say?" - -"Yes, when he asked you, you know," said Laura, with a little smile. - -Isabel looked at her suspiciously. "He never did actually ask me," she -said, with dignity. - -"Oh! I thought you implied----" - -"But, of course, she knew he wanted to," Maud put in. "Didn't you, -dear?" - -"Well, I thought so," said Isabel, modestly. - -"Yes, I know you thought so," said Laura. "Indeed, everybody saw that. -Was it very hard to prevent him?" - -Isabel's colour rose. "I don't know what you mean, Laura," she said. - -Laura smiled with an unpleasantness that was quite a victory over -nature. "Men sometimes fancy," she remarked, "that girls are rather in a -hurry to think they want to propose." - -"Laura!" exclaimed Maud. - -"They even say that the wish is father to the thought," continued Laura, -still smiling, but now a little tremulously. - -Isabel grew more flushed. "I don't understand you. One would think you -meant that I had run after him." - -Laura remained silent. - -"Everybody knows he was in love with Isabel for years," said Maud, -indignantly. - -"He was very patient," said Laura. - -Isabel rose. "I shall not stay here to be insulted. It's quite obvious, -Laura, why you say such things." - -"I don't say anything. Only----" - -"Well?" - -"The next time, you might mention that among the reasons why you refused -Mr. Neston was, that he never asked you." - -"I see what it is," said Isabel. "Don't you, Maud?" - -"Yes," said Maud. - -"What is it?" demanded Laura. - -"Oh, nothing. Only, I hope--I wish you joy of him." - -"If you don't mind a slanderer," added Maud. - -"It's not true!" said Laura. "How dare you say it?" - -"Take care, dear, that he doesn't fancy you're in a hurry---- What was -your phrase?" said Isabel. - -"It's perfectly shameful," said Maud. - -"I don't choose to hear a friend run down for nothing," declared Laura. - -"A friend? How very chivalrous you are! Come, Maud dear." - -"Good-bye, Laura," said Maud. "I'm sure you'll be sorry when you come to -think." - -"No, I shan't. I----" - -"There!" said Isabel. "I do not care to be insulted any more." - -The two visitors swept out, and Laura was left alone. Whereupon she -began to cry. "I do hate that sort of vulgarity," said she, mopping her -eyes. "I don't believe he ever thought----" - -Mrs. Pocklington entered in urbane majesty. "Well, is Isabel pleased -with her little man?" she asked. "Why, child, what's the matter?" - -"Nothing," said Laura. - -"You're crying." - -"No, I'm not. Those girls have been horrid." - -"What about?" - -"Oh, the engagement, and----" - -"And what?" - -"And poor Mr. Neston--George Neston." - -"Oh, poor George Neston. What did they say?" - -"Isabel pretended he had been in love with her, and--and was in love -with her, and that she had refused him." - -"Oh, and that made you cry?" - -"No--not that----" - -"What, then?" - -"Oh, please, mamma!" - -Mrs. Pocklington smiled. "Stop crying, my dear. It used to suit me, but -it doesn't suit you. Stop, dear." - -"Very well, mamma," said poor Laura, thinking it a little hard that she -might not even cry. - -"Did you cry before the girls?" - -"No," said Laura, with emphasis. - -"Good child," said Mrs. Pocklington. "Now, listen to me. You're never to -think of him again----" - -"Mamma!" - -"Till I tell you." - -"Ah!" - -"A tiresome, meddlesome fellow. Is your father in, Laura?" - -"Yes, dear. Are you going to see him about----?" - -"Why, you're as bad as Isabel!" said Mrs. Pocklington, with feigned -severity, disengaging Laura's arms from her neck. "He's never asked you -either!" - -"No, dear; but----" - -"The vanity of these children! There, let me go; and for goodness' sake, -don't be a cry-baby, Laura. Men hate water-bottles." - -Thus mingling consolation and reproof, Mrs. Pocklington took her way to -her husband's study. - -"I want five minutes, Robert," she said, sitting down. - -"It's worth a thousand pounds a minute, my dear," said Mr. Pocklington, -genially, laying down his pipe and his papers. "What with this -strike----" - -"Strike!" said Mrs. Pocklington with indignation. "Why do you let them -strike, Robert?" - -"I can't help it. They want more money." - -"Nonsense! They want to be taught their Catechisms. But I didn't come to -talk about that." - -"I'm sorry you didn't, my dear. Your views are refreshing." - -"Robert, Laura's got a fancy in her head about young George Neston." - -"Oh!" - -"'Oh!' doesn't tell me much." - -"Well, you know all about him." - -"He's a very excellent young man. Not rich." - -"A pauper?" - -"No. Enough." - -"All right. If you're satisfied, I am. But hasn't he been making a fool -of himself about some woman?" - -"Really, Robert, how strangely you express yourself! I suppose you mean -about Neaera Witt?" - -"Yes, that's it. I heard some rumour." - -"Heard some rumour! Of course you read every word about it, and gossiped -over it at the Club and the House. Now, haven't you?" - -"Perhaps I have," her husband admitted. "I think he's a young fool." - -"Am I to consider it an obstacle?" - -"Well, what do you think yourself?" - -"It's your business. Men know about that sort of thing." - -"Is the child--eh?" - -"Yes, rather." - -"And he?" - -"Oh, yes, or will be very soon, when he sees she is." - -"Poor little Lally!" said Mr. Pocklington. Then he sat and pondered. "It -is an obstacle," he said at last. - -"Ah!" said his wife. - -"He must put himself right." - -"Do you mean, prove what he says?" - -"Well, at any rate, show he had good excuse for saying it." - -"I think it's a little hard. But it's for you to decide." - -Mr. Pocklington nodded. - -"Then, that's settled," said Mrs. Pocklington. "It's a great comfort, -Robert, to have a man who knows his mind on the premises." - -"Be gentle with her," said he, and returned to the strike. - -The other parties to the encounter over George's merits had by a natural -impulse taken themselves to Neaera Witt's, with the hope of being -thanked for their holy zeal. They were disappointed, for, on arriving at -Albert Mansions, they were informed that Neaera, although returned from -Liverpool, was not visible. "Mr. Neston has been waiting over an hour -to see her, miss," said Neaera's highly respectable handmaid, "but she -won't leave her room." - -Gerald heard their voices, and came out. - -"I can't think what's the matter," he said. - -"Oh, I suppose the journey has knocked her up," suggested Isabel. - -"Are you going to wait, Gerald?" asked Maud. - -"Well, no. The fact is, she sent me a message to go away." - -"Then come home with me," said Isabel, "and we will try to console you." -Gerald would enjoy their tale quite as much as Neaera. - -Low spirits are excusable in persons who are camping on an active -volcano, and Neaera felt that this was very much her position. At any -moment she might be blown into space, her pleasant dreams shattered, -her champions put to shame, and herself driven for ever from the only -place in life she cared to occupy. Her abasement was pitiful, and her -penitence, being born merely of defeat, offers no basis of edification. -She had serious thoughts of running away; for she did not think she -could face Gerald's wrath, or, worse still, his grief. He would cast -her off, and society would cast her off, and those dreadful papers would -turn their thunders against her. She might have consoled herself for -banishment from society with Gerald's love, or, perhaps, for loss of his -love with the triumphs of society; but she would lose both, and have not -a soul in the whole world to speak to except that hateful Mrs. Bort. -So she sat and dolefully mused, with the tailless cat, that gift of -a friendly gaoler at Peckton prison, purring on the rug before her, -unconsciously personifying an irrevocable past and a future emptied of -delight. - - - - -CHAPTER XIII. - -CONTAINING MORE THAN ONE ULTIMATUM. - - -It was fortunate that Mr. Blodwell was not very busy on Saturday -morning, or he might have resented the choice of his chambers for a -council, and not been mollified by being asked to take part in the -deliberations. At eleven o'clock in the morning, Gerald Neston arrived, -accompanied by Sidmouth Vane and Mr. Lionel Fitzderham, who was, in -the first place, Mrs. Pocklington's brother, and, in the second place, -chairman of the committee of the Themis Club. - -"We have come, sir," said Gerald, "to ask you to use your influence with -George. His conduct is past endurance." - -"Anything new?" asked Mr. Blodwell. - -"No, that's just it. This is Saturday. I'm to be married on Monday -week; and George does nothing." - -"What do you want him to do?" - -"Why, to acknowledge himself wrong, as he can't prove himself right." - -Mr. Blodwell looked at Fitzderham. - -"Yes," said the latter. "It can't stay as it is. The lady must be -cleared, if she can't be proved guilty. We arrived clearly at that -conclusion." - -"We?" - -"The committee of the Themis." - -"Oh, ah, yes. And you, Vane?" - -"I concur," said Vane, briefly. "I've backed George up to now: but I -agree he must do one thing or the other." - -"Well, gentlemen, I suppose you're right. Only, if he won't?" - -"Then we shall take action," said Fitzderham. - -"So shall I," said Gerald. - -Vane shrugged his shoulders. - -Mr. Blodwell rang the bell. - -"Is Mr. George in, Timms?" he asked. - -"Yes, sir; just arrived." - -"Ask him to step in to me, if he will. I don't see," he continued, "why -you shouldn't settle it with him. I've nothing to do with it, thank -God." - -George entered. He was surprised to see the deputation, but addressed -himself exclusively to Blodwell. - -"Here I am, sir. What is it?" - -"These gentlemen," said Mr. Blodwell, "think that the time has come for -you to withdraw your allegations or to prove them." - -"You see, George," said Vane, "it's not fair to leave Mrs. Witt under -this indefinite stigma." - -"Far from it," said Fitzderham. - -George stood with his back against the mantel-piece. "I quite agree," he -said. "Let's see--to-day's Saturday. When is the wedding, if there----?" - -"Monday week," said Blodwell, hastily, fearing an explosion from Gerald. - -"Very well. On Tuesday----" - -"A telegram for you, sir," said Timms, entering. - -"Excuse me," said George. - -He opened and read his telegram. It ran, "Yes--my handwriting. Will -return by next post registered--Horne, Bournemouth." - -"On Monday," continued George, "at five o'clock in the afternoon, I will -prove all I said, or withdraw it." - -Gerald looked uneasy, but he tried to think, or at least to appear to -think, that George's delay was only to make his surrender less abrupt. - -"Very well! Shall we meet here?" - -"No," said Gerald. "Mrs. Witt ought to be present." - -"Is that desirable?" asked George. - -"Of course it is." - -"As you please. I should say not. But ask her, and be guided by her -wishes." - -"Well, then, at Lord Tottlebury's?" suggested Vane. - -"By all means," said George. And, with a slight nod, he left the room. - -"I hope," said Mr. Blodwell, "that you have done well in forcing matters -to an extremity." - -"Couldn't help it," said Vane, briefly. - -And the council broke up. - -Mrs. Horne's telegram made George's position complete. It was impossible -for Neaera to struggle against such evidence, and his triumph was -assured from the moment when he produced the original document and -contrasted it with Neaera's doctored copy. Besides, Mrs. Bort was in the -background, if necessary; and although an impulse of pity had led him -to shield Neaera at Liverpool, he was in no way debarred by that from -summoning Mrs. Bort to his assistance if he wanted her. The Neston -honour was safe, an impostor exposed, and the cause of morality, -respectability, truth, and decency powerfully forwarded. Above all, -George himself was enabled to rout his enemies, to bring a blush to the -unblushing cheek of the _Bull's-eye_, and to meet his friends without -feeling that perhaps they were ashamed to be seen talking to him. - -The delights of the last-mentioned prospect were so great, that George -could not make up his mind to postpone them, and, in the afternoon, he -set out to call on the Pocklingtons. There could be no harm in giving -them at least a hint of the altered state of his fortunes, due, as it -was in reality, to Mrs. Pocklington's kindness in presenting him to -Lord Mapledurham. It would certainly be very pleasant to prove to the -Pocklingtons, especially to Laura Pocklington, that they had been -justified in standing by him, and that he was entitled, not to the -good-natured tolerance accorded to honesty, but to the admiration due -to success. - -In matters of love, at least, George Neston cannot be presented as an -ideal hero. Heroes unite the discordant attributes of violence and -constancy: George had displayed neither. Isabel Bourne had satisfied -his judgment without stirring his blood. When she presumed to be so -ill-advised as to side against him, he resigned, without a pang, a -prospect that had become almost a habit. Easily and insensibly the -pretty image of Laura Pocklington had filled the vacant space. As he -wended his way to Mrs. Pocklington's, he smiled to think that a month or -two ago he had looked forward to a life spent with Isabel Bourne with -acquiescence, though not, it is true, with rapture. Had the rapture -existed before, it is sad to think that perhaps the smile would have -been broader now; for love, when born in trepidation and nursed -in joy, is often buried without lamentation and remembered with -amusement--kindly, even tender amusement, but still amusement. An -easy-going fancy like George's for Isabel cannot claim even the tribute -of a tear behind the smile--a tear which, by its presence, causes yet -another smile. George was not even grateful to Isabel for a pleasant -dream and a gentle awakening. She was gone; and, what is more, she ought -never to have come: and there was an end of it. - -George, having buried Isabel, rang the bell with a composed mind. He -might ask Laura Pocklington to marry him to-day, or he might not. He -would be guided by circumstances in that matter: but at any rate he -would ask her, and that soon; for she was the only girl he could ever -be happy with, and, if he dawdled, his chance might be gone. Of course -there was a crowd of suitors at her feet, and, although George had no -unduly modest view of his own claims, he felt it behoved him to be up -and doing. It is true that the crowd of suitors was not very much in -evidence, but who could doubt its existence without questioning the -sanity and eyesight of mankind? - -As it so chanced, however, George did not see Laura. He saw Mrs. -Pocklington, and that lady at once led the conversation to the insistent -topic of Neaera Witt. George could not help letting fall a hint of his -approaching victory. - -"Poor woman!" said Mrs. Pocklington. "But, for your sake, I'm very -glad." - -"Yes, it gets me out of an awkward position." - -"Just what my husband said. He thought that you were absolutely bound to -prove what you said, or at least to give a good excuse for it." - -"Absolutely bound?" - -"Well, I mean if you were to keep your place in society." - -"And in your house?" - -"Oh, he did not go so far as that. Everybody comes to my house." - -"Yes; but, Mrs. Pocklington, I don't want to come in the capacity of -'everybody.'" - -"Then, I think he did mean that you must do what I say, before you went -on coming in any other capacity." - -George looked at Mrs. Pocklington. Mrs. Pocklington smiled -diplomatically. - -"Is Miss Pocklington out?" asked George. - -"Yes," said Mrs. Pocklington, "she is out." - -"Not back soon?" asked George, smiling in his turn. - -"Not yet." - -"Not until----?" - -"Well, Mr. Neston, I dare say you know what I mean." - -"I think so. Fortunately, there is no difficulty. Shall we say Tuesday?" - -"When Tuesday comes, we will see if we say Tuesday." - -"And, otherwise, I am----?" - -"Otherwise, my dear George, you have no one to persuade except----" - -"Ah, that is the most difficult task of all." - -"I don't know anything about that. Only I hope you believe what you say. -Young men are so conceited nowadays." - -"When Miss Pocklington comes in, you will tell her how sorry I was not -to see her?" - -"Certainly." - -"And that I look forward to Tuesday?" - -"No; I shall say nothing about that. You are not out of the wood yet." - -"Oh yes, I am." - -But Mrs. Pocklington stood firm; and George departed, feeling that the -last possibility of mercy for Neaera Witt had vanished. There is a limit -to unselfishness; nay, what place is there for pity when public duty and -private interest unite in demanding just severity? - - - - -CHAPTER XIV. - -NEAERA'S LAST CARD. - - -Neaera Witt had one last card to play. Alas, how great the stake, and -how slight the chance! Still she would play it. If it failed, she would -only drink a little deeper of humiliation, and be trampled a little more -contemptuously under foot. What did that matter? - -"You will not condemn a woman unheard," she wrote, with a touch of -melodrama. "I expect you here on Sunday evening at nine. You cannot be -so hard as not to come." - -George had written that he would come, but that his determination -was unchangeable. "I must come, as you ask me," he said; "but it is -useless--worse than useless." Still he would come. - -Bill Sykes likes to be tried in a black coat, and draggle-tailed Sal -smooths her tangled locks before she enters the dock. Who can doubt, -though it be not recorded, that the burghers of Calais, cruelly -restricted to their shirts, donned their finest linen to face King -Edward and his Queen, or that the Inquisitors were privileged to behold -many a robe born to triumph on a different stage? And so Neaera Witt -adorned herself to meet George Neston with subtle simplicity. Her own -ill-chastened taste, fed upon popular engravings, hankered after black -velvet, plainly made in clinging folds; but she fancied that the motive -would be too obvious for an eye so _rusé_ as George's, and reluctantly -surrendered her picture of a second Queen of Scots. White would be -better; white could cling as well as black, and would so mingle -suggestions of remorse and innocence that surely he could not be -hard-hearted enough to draw the distinction. A knot of flowers, destined -to be plucked to pieces by agitated hands--so much conventional emotion -she could not deny herself,--a dress cut low, and open sleeves made -to fall back when the white arms were upstretched for pity,--all this -should make a combined assault on George's higher nature and on his -lower. Neaera thought that, if only she had been granted time and money -to dress properly, she might never have seen the inside of Peckton gaol -at all; for even lawyers are human, or, if that be disputed, let us say -not superhuman. - -George came in with all the awkwardness of an Englishman who hates a -scene and feels himself a fool for his awkwardness. Neaera motioned him -to a chair, and they sat silent for a moment. - -"You sent for me, Mrs. Witt?" - -"Yes," said Neaera, looking at the fire. Then, with a sudden turn of her -eyes upon him, she added, "It was only--to thank you." - -"I'm afraid you have little enough to thank me for." - -"Yes; your kindness at Liverpool." - -"Oh, it seemed the best way out. I hope you pardon the liberty I took?" - -"And for an earlier kindness of yours." - -"I really----" - -"Yes, yes. When they gave me that money you sent, I cried. I could not -cry in prison, but I cried then. It was the first time any one had ever -been kind to me." - -George was embarrassed. He had an uneasy feeling that the sentiment was -trite; but, then, many of the saddest things are the tritest. - -"It is good of you," he said, stumbling in his words, "to remember it, -in face of all I have done against you." - -"You pitied me then." - -"With all my heart." - -"How did I do it? How did I? I wish I had starved; and seen my father -starve first!" - -George wondered whether it was food that the late Mr. Gale so urgently -needed. - -"But I did it. I was a thief; and once a thief, always a thief." And -Neaera smiled a sad smile. - -"You must not suppose," he said, as he had once before, "that I do not -make allowances." - -"Allowances?" she cried, starting up. "Allowances--always allowances! -never pity! never mercy! never forgetfulness!" - -"You did not ask for mercy," said George. - -"No, I didn't. I know what you mean--I lied." - -"Yes, you lied, if you choose that word. You garbled documents, and, -when the truth was told, you called it slander." - -Neaera had sunk back in her seat again. "Yes," she moaned. "I couldn't -let it all go--I couldn't!" - -"You yourself have made pity impossible." - -"Oh no, not impossible! I loved him so, and he--he was so trustful." - -"The more reason for not deceiving him," said George, grimly. - -"What is it, after all?" she exclaimed, changing her tone. "What is it, -I say?" - -"Well, if you ask me, Mrs. Witt, it's an awkward record." - -"An awkward record! Yes, but for a man in love?" - -"That's Gerald's look-out. He can do as he pleases." - -"What, after you have put me to open shame? And for what? Because I -loved my father most, and loved my--the man who loved me--most!" George -shook his head. - -"If you were in love--in love, I say, with a girl--yes, if you were in -love with me, would this thing stop you?" And she stood before him -proudly and scornfully. - -George looked at her. "I don't think it would," he said. - -"Then," she asked, advancing a step, and stretching out her clasped -hands, "why ask more for another than for yourself?" - -"Gerald will be the head of the family, to begin with----" - -"The family?" - -"Certainly; the Neston family." - -"Who are they? Are they famous? I never heard of them till the other -day." - -"I daresay not; we moved in rather different circles." - -"Do you take pleasure in being brutal?" - -"I take pleasure in nothing connected with this confounded affair," said -George, impatiently. - -"Then why not drop it?" - -George shook his head. - -"Too late," he said. - -"It's mere selfishness. You are only thinking of what people will say of -you." - -"I have a right to consider that." - -"It's mean--mean and heartless!" - -George rose. "Really, it's no use going on with this," said he. And, -making a slight bow, he turned towards the door. - -"I didn't mean it--I didn't mean it," cried Neaera. "But I am out of my -mind. Ah, have pity on me!" And she flung herself on the floor, right in -his path. - -George felt very absurd. He stood, his hat in one hand, his stick and -gloves in the other, while Neaera clasped his legs below the knee, and, -he feared, was about to bedew his boots with her tears. - -"This is tragedy, I suppose," he thought. "How the devil am I to get -away?" - -"I have never had a chance," Neaera went on, "never. Ah, it is hard! And -when at last----" Her voice choked, and George, to his horror, heard her -sob. - -He nervously shifted his feet about, as well as Neaera's eager clutches -would allow him. How he wished he had not come! - -"I cannot bear it!" she cried. "They will all write about me, and jeer -at me; and Gerald will cast me off. Where shall I hide?--where shall I -hide? What was it to you?" - -Then she was silent, but George heard her stifled weeping. Her clasp -relaxed, and she fell forward, with her face on the floor, in front of -him. He did not seize his chance of escape. - -"London is uninhabitable to me, if I do as you ask," he said. - -She looked up, the tears escaping from her eyes. - -"Ah, and the world to me, if you don't!" - -George sat down in an arm-chair; he abandoned the hope of running away. -Neaera rose, pushed back her hair from her face, and fixed her eyes -eagerly on him. He looked down for an instant, and she shot a hasty -glance at the mirror, and then concentrated her gaze on him again, a -little anxious smile coming to her lips. - -"You will?" she asked in a whisper. - -George petulantly threw his gloves on a table near him. Neaera advanced, -and knelt down beside him, laying her hand on his shoulder. - -"You have made me cry so much," she said. "See, my eyes are dim. You -won't make me cry any more?" - -George looked at the bright eyes, half veiled in tears, and the mouth -trembling on the brink of fresh weeping. And the eyes and mouth were -very good. - -"It is Gerald," she said; "he is so strict. And the shame, the shame!" - -"You don't know what it means to me." - -"I do indeed: I know it is hard. But you are generous. No, no, don't -turn your face away!" - -George still sat silent. Neaera took his hand in hers. - -"Ah, do!" she said. - -George smiled,--at himself, not at Neaera. - -"Well, don't cry any more," said he, "or the eyes will be red as well as -dim." - -"You will, you will?" she whispered eagerly. - -He nodded. - -"Ah, you are good! God bless you, George: you are good!" - -"No. I am only weak." - -Neaera swiftly bent and kissed his hand. "The hand that gives me life," -she said. - -"Nonsense," said George, rather roughly. - -"Will you clear me altogether?" - -"Oh yes; everything or nothing," - -"Will you give me that--that character?" - -"Yes." - -She seized his reluctant hand, and kissed it again. - -"I have your word?" - -"You have." - -She leapt up, suddenly radiant. - -"Ah, George, Cousin George, how I love you! Where is it?" - -George took the document out of his pocket. - -Neaera seized it. "Light a candle," she cried. - -George with an amused smile obeyed her. - -"You hold the candle, and I will burn it!" And she watched the paper -consumed with the look of a gleeful child. Then she suddenly stretched -her arms. "Oh, I am tired!" - -"Poor child!" said George. "You can leave it to me now." - -"However shall I repay you? I never can." Then she suddenly saw the cat, -ran to him, and picked him up. "We are forgiven, Bob! we are forgiven!" -she cried, dancing about the room. - -George watched her with amusement. - -She put the cat down and came to him. "See, you have made me happy. Is -that enough?" - -"It is something," said he. - -"And here is something more!" And she threw her arms round his neck, and -kissed him. - -"That's better," said George. "Any more?" - -"Not till we are cousins." - -"Be gentle in your triumph." - -"No, no; don't talk like that. Are you going?" - -"Yes. I must go and put things straight." - -"Good-bye. I--I hope you won't find it very hard." - -"I have been paid in advance." - -Neaera blushed a little. - -"You shall be better paid, if ever I can," she said. - -George paused outside, to light a cigarette; then he struck into the -park, and walked slowly along, meditating as he went. When he arrived at -Hyde Park Corner, he roused himself from his reverie. - -"Now the woman was very fair!" said he, as he hailed a hansom. - - - - -CHAPTER XV. - -A LETTER FOR MR. GERALD. - - -Mrs. Pocklington sat with blank amazement in her face, and a copy of the -second edition of the _Bull's-eye_ in her hand. On the middle page, in -type widely spaced, beneath a noble headline, appeared a letter from -George Neston, running thus:-- - - "To the Editor of the _Bull's-eye_. - - "SIR, - - "As you have been good enough to interest yourself, and, I hope, - fortunate enough to interest your readers, in the subject of - certain allegations made by me in respect of a lady whose name has - been mentioned in your columns, I have the honour to inform you - that such allegations were entirely baseless, the result of a - chance resemblance between that lady and another person, and of my - own hasty conclusions drawn therefrom. I have withdrawn all my - assertions, fully and unreservedly, and have addressed apologies - for them to those who had a right to receive apologies. - - "I have the honour to be, sir, - "Your obedient servant, - "GEORGE NESTON." - -And then a column of exultation, satire, ridicule, preaching, praying, -prophesying, moralising, and what not. The pen flew with wings of joy, -and ink was nothing regarded on that day. - -Mrs. Pocklington was a kind-hearted woman; yet, when she read a sister's -vindication, she found nothing better to say than-- - -"How very provoking!" - -And it may be that this unregenerate exclamation fairly summed up public -feeling, if only public feeling had been indecent enough to show itself -openly. A man shown to be a fool is altogether too common a spectacle; -a woman of fashion proved a thief would have been a more piquant dish. -But in this world--and, indeed, probably in any other--we must take -what we can get; and since society could not trample on Neaera Witt, it -consoled itself by correcting and chastening the misguided spirit of -George Neston. Tommy Myles shook his empty little head, and all the -other empty heads shook solemnly in time. Isabel Bourne said she knew -she was right, and Sidmouth Vane thought there must be something -behind--he always did, as became a statesman in the raw. Mr. Espion -re-echoed his own leaders, like a phonograph; and the chairman of the -Themis thanked Heaven they were out of an awkward job. - -But wrath and fury raged in the breast of Laura Pocklington. She thought -George had made a fool of her. He had persuaded her to come over to his -side, and had then betrayed the colours. There would be joy in Gath and -Askelon; or, in other words, Isabel Bourne and Maud Neston would crow -over her insupportably. - -"I will never see him or speak to him again, mamma," Laura declared, -passionately. "He has behaved abominably!" - -This announcement rather took the wind out of Mrs. Pocklington's sails. -She was just preparing to bear majestically down upon her daughter with -a stern _ultimatum_ to the effect that, for the present, George must be -kept at a distance, and daughters must be guided by their mothers. At -certain moments nothing is more annoying than to meet with agreement, -when one intends to extort submission. - -"Good gracious, Laura!" said Mrs. Pocklington, "you can't care much for -the man." - -"Care for him! I detest him!" - -"My dear, it hardly looked like it." - -"You must allow me some self-respect, mamma." - -Mr. Pocklington, entering, overheard these words. "Hallo!" said he. -"What's the matter?" - -"Why, my dear, Laura declares that she will have nothing to say to -George Neston." - -"Well, that's just your own view, isn't it?" A silence ensued. "It seems -to me you are agreed." - -It really did look like it; but they had been on the verge of a pretty -quarrel all the same: and Mr. Pocklington was confirmed in the opinion -he had lately begun to entertain that, when paradoxes of mental process -are in question, there is in truth not much to choose between wives and -daughters. - -Meanwhile, George Neston was steadily and unflinchingly devouring his -humble-pie. He sought and obtained Gerald's forgiveness, after half an -hour of grovelling abasement. He listened to Tommy Myles's grave rebuke -and Sidmouth Vane's cynical raillery without a smile or a tear. He even -brought himself to accept with docility a letter full of Christian -feeling which Isabel Bourne was moved to write. - -All these things, in fact, affected him little in comparison with the -great question of his relations with the Pocklingtons. That, he felt, -must be settled at once, and, with his white sheet yet round him and his -taper still in his hand, he went to call on Mrs. Pocklington. - -He found that lady in an attitude of aggressive tranquillity. With -careful ostentation she washed her hands of the whole affair. Left to -her own way, she might have been inclined to consider that George's -foolish recklessness had been atoned for by his manly retractation--or, -on the other hand, she might not. It mattered very little which would -have been the case; and, if it comforted him, he was at liberty to -suppose that she would have embraced the former opinion. The decision -did not lie with her. Let him ask Laura and Laura's father. They had -made up their minds, and it was not in her province or power to try -to change their minds for them. In fact, Mrs. Pocklington took up the -position which Mr. Spenlow has made famous--only she had two partners -where Mr. Spenlow had but one. George had a shrewd idea that her -neutrality covered a favourable inclination towards himself, and thanked -her warmly for not ranking herself among his enemies. - -"I am even emboldened," he said, "to ask your advice how I can best -overcome Miss Pocklington's adverse opinion." - -"Laura thinks you have made her look foolish. You see, she took your -cause up rather warmly." - -"I know. She was most generous." - -"You were so very confident." - -"Yes; but one little thing at the end tripped me up. I couldn't have -foreseen it. Mrs. Pocklington, do you think she will be very obdurate?" - -"Oh, I've nothing to do with it. Don't ask me." - -"I wish I could rely on your influence." - -"I haven't any influence," declared Mrs. Pocklington. "She's as -obstinate as a--as resolute as her father." - -George rose to go. He was rather disheartened; the price he had to pay -for the luxury of generosity seemed very high. - -Mrs. Pocklington was moved to pity. "George," she said, "I feel like a -traitor, but I will give you one little bit of advice." - -"Ah!" cried George, his face brightening. "What is it, my dear Mrs. -Pocklington?" - -"As to my husband, I say nothing; but as to Laura----" - -"Yes, yes!" - -"Let her alone--absolutely." - -"Let her alone! But that's giving it up." - -"Don't call, don't write, don't be known to speak of her. There, I've -done what I oughtn't; but you're an old friend of mine, George." - -"But I say, Mrs. Pocklington, won't some other fellow seize the chance?" - -"If she likes you best, what does that matter? If she doesn't----" And -Mrs. Pocklington shrugged her shoulders. - -George was convinced by this logic. "I will try," he said. - -"Try?" - -"Yes, try to let her alone. But it's difficult." - -"Stuff and nonsense. Laura isn't indispensable." - -"I know those are not your real views." - -"You're not her mother; for which you may thank Heaven." - -"I do," said George, and took his leave, rather consoled. He would have -been even more cheerful had he known that Laura's door was ajar, and -Laura was listening for the bang of the hall door. When she heard it, -she went down to her mother. - -"Who was your visitor, mamma?" - -"Oh, George Neston." - -"What did _he_ come about?" - -"Well, my dear, to see me, I suppose." - -"And what did he find to say for himself?" - -"Oh, we hardly talked about that affair at all. However, he seems in -very good spirits." - -"I'm sure he has no business to be." - -"Perhaps not, my dear; but he was." - -"I didn't know it was Mr. Neston. I'm so glad I didn't come down." - -Mrs. Pocklington went on knitting. - -"I expect he knew why." - -Mrs. Pocklington counted three pearl and three plain. - -"Did he say anything about it, mamma?" - -"One, two, three. About what, dear?" - -"Why, about--about my not coming?" - -"No. I suppose he thought you were out." - -"Did you tell him so?" - -"He didn't ask, my dear. He has other things to think about than being -attentive to young women." - -"It's very lucky he has," said Laura, haughtily. - -"My dear, he lets you alone. Why can't you let him alone?" - -Laura took up a book, and Mrs. Pocklington counted her stitches in a -brisk and cheerful tone. - -It will be seen that George had a good friend in Mrs. Pocklington. In -truth he needed some kindly countenance, for society at large had gone -mad in praise of Neaera and Gerald. They were the fashion. Everybody -tried to talk to them; everybody was coming to the wedding; everybody -raved about Neaera's sweet patience and Gerald's unwavering faith. When -Neaera drove her lover round the park in her victoria, their journey was -a triumphal progress; and only the burden of preparing for the wedding -prevented the pair being honoured guests at every select gathering. -Gerald walked on air. His open hopes were realised, his secret fears -laid to rest; while Neaera's exaggerated excuses for George betrayed -to his eyes nothing but the exceeding sweetness of her disposition. -Her absolute innocence explained and justified her utter absence of -resentment, and must, Gerald felt, add fresh pangs to George's remorse -and shame. These pangs Gerald did not feel it his duty to mitigate. - -Thursday came, and Monday was the wedding-day. The atmosphere was thick -with new clothes, cards of invitation, presents, and congratulations. A -thorny question had arisen as to whether George should be invited. -Neaera's decision was in his favour, and Gerald himself had written the -note, hoping all the while that his cousin's own good sense would keep -him away. - -"It would be hardly decent in him to come," he said to his father. - -"I daresay he will make some excuse," answered Lord Tottlebury. "But I -hope you won't keep up the quarrel." - -"Keep up the quarrel! By Jove, father, I'm too happy to quarrel." - -"Gerald," said Maud Neston, entering, "here's such a funny letter for -you! I wonder it ever reached." - -She held out a dirty envelope, and read the address-- - - "_Mr. Nesston, Esq._, - "_His Lordship Tottilberry_, - "_London._" - -"Who in the world is it?" asked Maud, laughing. - -Gerald had no secrets. - -"I don't know," said he. "Give it me, and we'll see." He opened the -letter. The first thing he came upon was a piece of tissue paper neatly -folded. Opening it, he found it to be a ten-pound note. "Hullo! is this -a wedding present?" said he with a laugh. - -"Ten pounds! How funny!" exclaimed Maud. "Is there no letter?" - -"Yes, here's a letter!" And Gerald read it to himself. - -The letter ran as follows, saving certain eccentricities of spelling -which need not be reproduced:-- - - "SIR, - - "I don't rightly know whether this here is your money or Nery's. - Nor I don't know _where it comes from_, after what you said when - you was here with her Friday. I can work for my living, thanks be - to Him to whom thanks is due, and I don't put money in my pocket - as I don't know whose pocket it come out of. - - "Your humble servant, - "SUSAN BORT." - -"Susan Bort!" exclaimed Gerald. "Now, who the deuce is Susan Bort, and -what the deuce does she mean?" - -"Unless you tell us what she says----" began Lord Tottlebury. - -Gerald read the letter again, with a growing feeling of uneasiness. He -noticed that the postmark was Liverpool. It so chanced that he had not -been to Liverpool for more than a year. And who was Susan Bort? - -He got up, and, making an apology for not reading out his letter, went -to his own room to consider the matter. - -"'Nery?'" said he. "And if I wasn't there, who was?" - -It was generous of George Neston to shield Neaera at Liverpool. It was -also generous of Neaera to send Mrs. Bort ten pounds immediately after -that lady had treated her so cruelly. It was honest of Mrs. Bort to -refuse to accept money which she thought might be the proceeds of -burglary. To these commendable actions Gerald was indebted for the -communication which disturbed his bliss. - -"I wonder if Neaera can throw any light on it," said Gerald. "It's very -queer. After lunch, I'll go and see her." - - - - -CHAPTER XVI. - -THERE IS AN EXPLOSION. - - -Mr. Blodwell was entertaining Lord Mapledurham at luncheon at the Themis -Club. The Marquis was not in an agreeable mood. He was ill, and when he -was ill he was apt to be cross. His host's calm satisfaction with the -issue of the Neston affair irritated him. - -"Really, Blodwell," he said, "I sometimes think a lawyer's wig is like -Samson's hair. When he takes it off, he takes off all his wits with it. -Your simplicity is positively childish." - -Mr. Blodwell gurgled contentedly over a basin of soup. - -"I think no evil unless I'm paid for it," he said, wiping his mouth. -"George found he was wrong, and said so." - -"I saw the girl in the Park yesterday," the Marquis remarked. "She's a -pretty girl." - -"Uncommonly. But I'm not aware that being pretty makes a girl a thief." - -"No, but it makes a man a fool." - -"My dear Mapledurham!" - -"Did he ever tell you what he found out at Liverpool?" - -"Did he go to Liverpool?" - -"Did he go? God bless the man! Of course he went, to look for----" - -Lord Mapledurham stopped, to see who was throwing a shadow over his -plate. - -"May I join you?" asked Sidmouth Vane, who thought he was conferring a -privilege. "I'm interested in what you are discussing." - -"Oh, it's you, is it? Have you been listening?" - -"No, but everybody's discussing it. Now, I agree with you, Lord -Mapledurham. It's a put-up job." - -"I expect you thought it was a put-up job when they baptised you, didn't -you?" inquired the Marquis. - -"And looked for poison in your bottle?" added Blodwell. - -Vane gently waved his hand, as if to scatter these clumsy sarcasms. "A -man may not be sixty and yet not be an ass," he languidly observed. -"Waiter, some salmon, and a pint of 44." - -"And may be sixty and yet be an ass, eh?" said the Marquis, chuckling. - -"Among ourselves, why do you suppose he let her off?" asked Vane. - -The Marquis pushed back his chair. "My young friend, you are too wise. -Something will happen to you." - -"Hallo!" exclaimed Vane, "here's Gerald Neston." - -Gerald came hastily up to Mr. Blodwell. "Do you know where George is?" -he asked. - -"I believe he's in the club somewhere," answered Mr. Blodwell. - -"No, he isn't. I want to see him on business." - -Lord Mapledurham rose. "I know your father, Mr. Neston," he said. "You -must allow me to shake hands with you, and congratulate you on your -approaching marriage." - -Gerald received his congratulations with an absent air. "I must go and -find George," he said, and went out. - -"There!" said Vane, triumphantly. "Don't you see there's something up -now?" - -The elder men tried to snub him, but they glanced at one another and -silently admitted that it looked as if he were right. - -Mrs. Bort's letter had stirred into activity all the doubts that Gerald -Neston had tried to stifle, and had at last succeeded in silencing. -There was a darkly mysterious tone about the document that roused his -suspicions. Either there was a new and a more unscrupulous plot against -his bride, or else---- Gerald did not finish his train of thought, -but he determined to see Neaera at once, as George could not be found -without a journey to the Temple, and a journey to the Temple was twice -as far as a journey to Albert Mansions. Nevertheless, had Gerald known -what was happening at the Temple, he would have gone there first; for in -George's chambers, at that very moment, George was sitting in his chair, -gazing blankly at Neaera Witt, who was walking restlessly up and down. - -"You sent her ten pounds?" he gasped. - -"Yes, yes," said Neaera. "I can't let the creature starve." - -"But why in the world did she send it back to Gerald?" - -"Oh, can't you see? Why, you said you were Gerald; at least, it came to -that." - -"And she meant to send it to me?" - -"Yes, but I had told her my Mr. Neston was Lord Tottlebury's son; so I -suppose the letter has gone to Gerald. It must have, if you haven't got -it." - -"But why should she send it to either of us?" - -"Oh, because I said I sent it with Mr. Neston's approval." - -"That wasn't true." - -"Of course not. But it sounded better." - -"Ah, it's dangerous work." - -"I should never have done it, if I had foreseen this." - -George knew that this represented Neaera's extreme achievement in -penitence, and did not press the question. - -"What a wretch the woman is," Neaera continued. "Oh, what is to be done? -Gerald is sure to ask for an explanation." - -"Quite possible, I should think." - -"Well, then, I am lost." - -"You'd better tell him all about it." - -"I can't; indeed I can't. You won't, will you? Oh, you will stand by -me?" - -"I don't know what Mrs. Bort has said, and so----" - -He was interrupted by a knock at the door. George rose and opened it. -"What is it, Timms?" - -"Mr. Gerald, sir, wants to see you on important business." - -"Is he in his room?" - -"Yes, sir. I told him you were engaged." - -"You didn't tell him Mrs. Witt was here?" - -"No, sir." - -"Say I'll be with him in a few minutes." - -George shut the door, and said, "Gerald's here, and wants to see me." - -"Gerald! Then he has got the letter!" - -"What do you propose to do, Mrs. Witt?" - -"How can I tell? I don't know what she said. She only told me she had -sent back the money, and told him why." - -"If she told him why----" - -"I'm ruined," said Neaera, wringing her hands. - -George stood with his back to the fireplace, and regarded her -critically. After a moment's pause, he said, with a smile, - -"I knew it all--and you were not ruined." - -"Ah, you are so good!" - -"Nonsense," said George, with a broader smile. - -Neaera looked up at him, and smiled too. - -"Mightn't you risk it? Of course, truth is dangerous, but he's very fond -of you." - -"Won't you help me?" - -A heavy step and the sound of impatient pushing of furniture were heard -from the next room. - -"Gerald is getting tired of waiting," said George. - -"Won't you do anything?" asked Neaera again, barely repressing a sob. - -"Supposing I were willing to lie, where is a possible lie? How can I -explain it?" - -Timms knocked and entered. Gerald begged for a minute's interview, on -pressing business. - -"In a moment," said George. Then, turning to Neaera, he added brusquely, -"Come, you must decide, Mrs. Witt." - -Neaera was no longer in a condition to decide anything. Tears were her -ready refuge in time of trouble, and she was picturesquely weeping--for -she possessed that rare gift--in the old leathern arm-chair. - -"Will you leave it to me?" asked George. "I'll do the best I can." - -Neaera sobbed forth the opinion that George was her only friend. - -"I shall tell him everything," said George. "Do you authorise me to do -that?" - -"Oh, how miserable I am!--oh, yes, yes." - -"Then stop crying, and try to look nice." - -"Why?" - -"Because I shall bring him in." - -"Oh!" cried Neaera in dismay. But when George went out, she made her -hair a little rougher--for so paradoxically do ladies set about the task -of ordering their appearance--and anointed her eyes with the contents of -a mysterious phial, produced from a recondite pocket. Then she sat up -straight, and strained her ears to catch any sound from the next room, -where her fate was being decided. She could distinguish which of the two -men was speaking, but not the words. First Gerald, then George, then -Gerald again. Next, for full five minutes, George talked in low but -seemingly emphatic tones. Then came a sudden shout from Gerald. - -"Here!" he cried. "In your room!" - -They had risen, and were moving about. Neaera's heart beat, though she -sat still as a statue. The door was flung open, and she rose to meet -Gerald, as he entered with a rush. George followed, with a look of -mingled anger and perplexity on his face. Gerald flung a piece of paper -at Neaera; it was Mrs. Bort's letter, and, as it fell at her feet, she -sank back again in her chair, with a bitter little cry. The worst had -happened. - -"Thank God for an honest woman!" cried Gerald. - -"Gerald!" she murmured, stretching out her hands to him. - -"Ah, you can do that to him!" he answered, pointing to George. - -"I--I loved you," she said. - -"He'll believe you, perhaps--or help you in your lies. I've done with -you." - -He passed his hand over his brow, and went on. "I was easy to hoodwink, -wasn't I? Only a little wheedling and fondling--only a kiss or two--and -a lie or two! I believed it all. And you," he added, turning on George, -"you spared her, you pitied her, you sacrificed yourself. A fine -sacrifice!" - -George put his hands in his pockets, and shrugged his shoulders. - -"I shouldn't go on before Mrs. Witt," he remarked. - -"Not go on! No, no. She's so pure, so innocent, isn't she? Worth any -sacrifice?" - -"What do you mean, Gerald?" said Neaera. - -"You don't know?" he asked, with a sneer. "What does a man ask for what -he's done? and what will a woman give? Will give? Has given?" - -"Hold your tongue!" said George, laying a hand on his shoulder. - -Neaera sat still, gazing at her lover with open eyes: only a little -shudder ran over her. - -"You duped me nicely between you," Gerald continued, "me and all the -world. No truth in it all! A mistake!--all a mistake! He found out--his -mistake!" His voice rose almost to a shriek, and ended in a bitter -laugh. - -"You needn't be a brute," said George, coldly. - -Gerald looked at him, then at Neaera, and uttered another sneering -laugh. George was close by him now, seeming to watch every motion of -his lips. Neaera rose from her chair, and flung herself at the feet of -the angry man. - -"Ah, Gerald, my love, have pity!" she wailed. - -"Pity!" he echoed, drawing back, so that she fell on her face before -him. "Pity! I might pity a thief, I might pity a liar, I have no pity -for a----" - -The sentence went unfinished, for, with a sudden motion, George closed -on him, and flung him through the open door out of the room. - -"Finish your blackguardism outside!" he said, as he shut the door and -turned the key. - - - - -CHAPTER XVII. - -LAURA DIFFERS. - - -_Ira brevis furor_, says the moralist; and the adjective is the only -part of the saw that is open to exception. Gerald Neston's wrath burnt -fiercely, but it burnt steadily also, and reflection brought with it -nothing but a stronger conviction of his wrongs. To George, the -interpretation his cousin put on his action in shielding Neaera seemed -to argue that uncommon degree of wrong-headedness that is hardly -distinguishable from immorality. Yet, in the recesses of George's heart -lurked the knowledge that Mrs. Witt, plain, old, unattractive, might -have reaped scant mercy, at his hands; and Gerald, if he did not believe -all he had brutally hinted, believed quite enough of it to make him -regard George as a traitor and Neaera as an intriguer. What sane -man could have acted as George had acted, unless under a woman's -fascination? Jealousy did the rest, for Neaera herself had sapped the -strength of her lover's trust in her, and he doubted not that she who -had deluded him in everything else had not hesitated to practise on him -the last deceit. She and George were confederates. Need any one ask how -they became so, or what the terms of the alliance were? - -It was hardly wonderful that this theory, strange as it seemed, should -find a place in Gerald's disordered mind, or that, having done so, it -should vent itself in intemperate words and reckless sneers. It was, -however, more remarkable that the opinion gained some general favour. It -pleased the cynical, for it explained away what seemed like a generous -action; it pleased the gossips, for it introduced into the Neston affair -the topic most congenial to gossips; it pleased the "unco guid," for -it pointed the moral of the ubiquity of sin; it pleased men as a sex, -because it made George's conduct natural and explicable; it pleased -women as a sex, because it ratified the opinion they had always held -of beautiful mysterious widows in general, and of Neaera Witt in -particular. And amid this chorus, the voice of the charitable, admitting -indiscretion, but asserting generosity, was lost and hushed, and -George's little band of friends and believers were dubbed blind -partisans and, by consequence, almost accomplices. - -Fortunately for George, among his friends were men who cared little for -public reprobation. Mr. Blodwell did his work, ate his dinner, said what -he thought, and esteemed the opinion of society much at the value the -Duke of Wellington set upon the views of the French nation. As for Lord -Mapledurham and Sidmouth Vane, unpopularity was the breath of their -nostrils; and Vane did not hesitate to purchase the pleasure of being in -a minority by a sacrifice of consistency; he abandoned the theory which -he had been among the first to suggest, as soon as the suggestion passed -by general acceptance into vulgarity. - -The three men gave George Neston a dinner, drank Neaera's health, -and allowed themselves an attitude of almost contemptuous protest -against the verdict of society--a verdict forcibly expressed by the -_Bull's-eye_, when it declared with not unnatural warmth that it had had -enough of this "sordid affair." But then the _Bull's-eye_ had hardly -shown its wonted perspicacity, and Mr. Espion declared that he had not -been treated in a respectful way. There was no traversing the fact; -George's party fell back on a denial of the obligation. - -Mankind is so constructed that the approbation of man does not satisfy -man, nor that of woman woman. If all the clubs had been ringing with his -praises, George Neston would still have turned his first and most eager -glance to Mrs. Pocklington's. As it was, he thought of little else than -what view of his conduct would gain the victory there. Alas! he knew -only too soon. Twice he called: twice was entrance refused him. Then -came a note from Mrs. Pocklington--an unanswerable note; for the lady -asserted nothing and denied nothing; she intrenched herself behind -common opinion. She, as George knew, was a tolerably independent person -so far as her own fame was concerned: but where her daughter was -interested, it was another thing; Laura's suitor must not be under a -cloud; Laura's future must not be jeopardied; Laura's affections must -be reposed only where absolute security could be guaranteed. Mr. -Pocklington agreed with his wife to the full. Hence there must be an end -of everything--so far as the Pocklington household was concerned, an end -of George Neston. And poor George read the decree, and groaned in his -heart. Nevertheless, strange events were happening behind that door, so -firmly, so impenetrably closed to George's eager feet--events to Mrs. -Pocklington inconceivable, even while they actually happened; to her -husband, alarming, reprehensible, extraordinary, puzzling, amusing, -almost, in a way, delightful. In fine, Laura rebelled. And the -declaration of independence was promulgated on this wise. - -Mrs. Pocklington had conveyed to her daughter, with all delicacy -requisite and imaginable, the new phase of the affair. It shocked and -distressed her to allude to such things; but Laura was a woman now, -and must know--and so forth. And Laura heard it all with no apparent -shock--nay, with a calmness approaching levity; and when she was told -that all communications between herself and George must cease, she -shook her pretty head and retired to her bedroom, neither accepting nor -protesting against the decision. - -The next morning after breakfast she appeared, equipped for a walk, -holding a letter in her hand. Mrs. Pocklington had ordered her -household, and had now sat down to a comfortable hour with a novel -before luncheon. _Dis aliter visum._ - -"I am going out, mamma," Laura began, "to post this note to Mr. Neston." - -Mrs. Pocklington never made mistakes in the etiquette of names, and -assumed a like correctness in others. She imagined her daughter referred -to Gerald. "Why need you write to him?" she asked, looking up. "He's -nothing more than an acquaintance." - -"Mamma! He's an intimate friend." - -"Gerald Neston an intimate friend! Why----" - -"I mean Mr. George Neston," said Laura, in a calm voice, but with a -slight blush. - -"George!" exclaimed Mrs. Pocklington. "What in the world do you want to -write to George Neston for? I have said all that is necessary." - -"I thought I should like to say something too." - -"My dear, certainly not. If you had been--if there had been anything -actually arranged, perhaps a line from you would have been right; -though, under the circumstances, I doubt it. As it is, for you to write -would simply be to give him a chance of reopening the acquaintance." - -Laura did not sit down, but stood by the door, prodding the carpet with -the point of her parasol. "Is the acquaintance closed?" she asked, after -a pause. - -"You remember, surely, what I said yesterday? I hope it's not necessary -to repeat it." - -"Oh no, mamma; I remember it." Laura paused, gave the carpet another -prod, and went on, "I'm just writing to say I don't believe a word of -it." - -"Jack's Darling" fell from Mrs. Pocklington's paralysed grasp. - -"Laura, how dare you? It is enough for you that I have decided what is -to be done." - -"You see, mamma, when everybody is turning against him, I want to show -him he has one friend, at least, who doesn't believe these hateful -stories." - -"I wonder you haven't more self-respect. Considering what is said about -him and Neaera Witt----" - -"Oh, bother Mrs. Witt!" said Laura, actually smiling. "Really, mamma, -it's nonsense; he doesn't care that for Neaera Witt!" And she tried -to snap her fingers; but, happily for Mrs. Pocklington's nerves, the -attempt was a failure. - -"I shall not argue with you, Laura. You will obey me, and there is an -end of it." - -"You told me I was a woman yesterday. If I am, I ought to be allowed to -judge for myself. Anyhow, you ought to hear what I have to say." - -"Give me that letter, Laura." - -"I'm very sorry, mamma; but----" - -"Give it to me." - -"Very well; I shall have to write another." - -"Do you mean to defy me, Laura?" - -Laura made no answer. - -Mrs. Pocklington opened and read the letter. - - "DEAR MR. NESTON," (it ran)-- - - "I want you to know that I do not believe a single word of what - they are saying. I am very sorry for poor Mrs. Witt, and I think - you have acted _splendidly_. Isn't it charming weather? Riding in - the park in the morning is a positive delight. - - "With kindest regards, - - "Yours very sincerely, - "LAURA F. POCKLINGTON." - -Mrs. Pocklington gasped. The note was little better than an assignation! -"I shall show this to your father," she said, and swept out of the room. - -Laura sat down and wrote an exact copy of the offending document, -addressed it, stamped it, and put it in her pocket. Then, with -ostentatious calmness, she took up "Jack's Darling," and appeared to -become immersed in it. - -Mrs. Pocklington found it hard to make her husband appreciate the -situation; indeed, she had scarcely risen to it herself. Everybody talks -of heredity in these days: the Pocklingtons, both people of resolute -will, had the opportunity of studying its working in their own -daughter. The result was fierce anger in Mrs. Pocklington, mingled anger -and admiration in her husband, perplexity in both. Laura's position was -simple and well defined. By coercion and imprisonment she might, she -admitted, be prevented sending her letter and receiving a reply, but -by no other means. Appeals to duty were met by appeals to justice; she -parried entreaty by counter-entreaty, reproofs by protestations of -respect, orders by silence. What was to be done? Laura was too old, and -the world was too old, for violent remedies. Intercepting correspondence -meant exposure to the household. The revolt was appalling, absurd, -unnatural; but it was also, as Mr. Pocklington admitted, "infernally -awkward." Laura realised that its awkwardness was her strength, and, -having in vain invited actual physical restraint, in its absence walked -out and posted her letter. - -Then Mrs. Pocklington acted. At a day's notice she broke up her -establishment for the season, and carried her daughter off with her. -She gave no address save to her husband. Laura was not allowed to know -whither she was being taken. She was, as she bitterly said, "spirited -away" by the continental mail, and all the communications cut. Only, -just as the brougham was starting, when the last box was on, and Mr. -Pocklington, having spoken his final word of exhortation, was waving -good-bye from the steps, Laura jumped out, crossed the road, and dropped -a note into a pillar-box. - -"It is only," she remarked, resuming her seat, "to tell Mr. Neston that -I can't give him any address at present." - -What, asked Mrs. Pocklington of her troubled mind, were you to do with a -girl like that? - - - - -CHAPTER XVIII. - -GEORGE NEARLY GOES TO BRIGHTON. - - -One evening, about a week after what Mr. Espion called the final -_esclandre_, Tommy Myles made his appearance in the smoking-room of -the Themis. More important matters have ousted the record of Tommy's -marriage and blissful honeymoon, and he came back to find that a -negligent world had hardly noticed his absence. - -"How are you?" said he to Sidmouth Vane. - -"How are you?" said Vane, raising his eyes for a moment from _Punch_. - -Tommy sat down by him. "I say," he remarked, "this Neston business is -rather neat. We read about it in Switzerland." - -"Been away?" - -"Of course I have--after my wedding, you know." - -"Ah! Seen _Punch_?" And Vane handed it to him. - -"I had a pretty shrewd idea of how the land lay. So had Bella." - -"Bella?" - -"Why, my wife." - -"Oh, a thousand pardons. I thought you rather backed Mrs. Witt." - -"My dear fellow, we wanted her to have fair play. I suppose there's no -question of the marriage now?" - -"I suppose not." - -"What's the fair Mrs. Witt going to do?" - -Vane wanted to be let alone, and Tommy worried him. He turned on the -little gentleman with some ferocity. "My dear Tommy," he said, "you -backed her through thick and thin, and blackguarded George for attacking -her." - -"Yes, but----" - -"Well, whoever was right, you weren't, so hadn't you better say no more -about it?" And Mr. Vane rose and walked away. - -In fact, he was thoughtful. What would Mrs. Witt do next? And what would -George Neston do? Vane knew of cases where the accusation suggests the -crime; it seemed not unlikely that if George had to bear the contumely -attaching to a connection with Mrs. Witt, he might think it as well to -reap the benefit. He might not have sought to win her favour yet, but -it was very possible he might do so now. If he didn't--well, some one -would. And Mr. Vane considered that he might find it worth his while to -be the man. His great relatives would cry aloud in horror; society would -be shocked. But a man will endure something for a pretty woman and five -thousand a year. Only, what did George Neston mean to do? - -It will be seen that Sidmouth Vane did not share Laura Pocklington's -conviction that George cared nothing for Mrs. Witt. Of course he had not -Laura's reasons: and perhaps some difference between the masculine and -feminine ways of looking at such things must be allowed for. As it -happened, however, Vane was right--for a moment. After George had been -for a second time repulsed from Mrs. Pocklington's doors, finding -the support of his friends unsatisfying and yearning for the more -impassioned approval that women give, he went the next day to Neaera's, -and intruded on the sorrow-laden retirement to which that wronged lady -had betaken herself. And Neaera's grief and gratitude, her sorrow and -sympathy, her friendship and fury, were all alike and equally delightful -to him. - -"The meanness of it!" she cried with flashing eyes. "Oh, I would rather -die than have a petty soul like that!" - -Gerald was, of course, the subject of these strictures, and George was -content not to contradict them. - -"He evidently," continued Neaera, "simply cannot understand your -generosity. It's beyond him!" - -"You mustn't rate what you call my generosity too high," said George. -"But what are you going to do, Mrs. Witt?" - -Neaera spread her hands out with a gesture of despair. - -"What am I to do? I am--desolate." - -"So am I. We must console one another." - -This speech was indiscreet. George recognised it, when Neaera's -answering glance reached him. - -"That will make them talk worse than ever," she said, smiling. "You -ought never to speak to me again, Mr. Neston." - -"Oh, we are damned beyond redemption, so we may as well enjoy -ourselves." - -"No, you mustn't shock your friends still more." - -"I have no friends left to shock," replied George, bitterly. - -Neaera implored him not to say that, running over the names of such as -might be supposed to remain faithful. George shook his head at each -name: when the Pocklingtons were mentioned, his shake was big with -sombre meaning. - -"Well, well," she said with a sigh, "and now what are you going to do?" - -"Oh, nothing. I think some of us are going to have a run to Brighton. I -shall go, just to get out of this." - -"Is Brighton nice now?" - -"Nicer than London, anyhow." - -"Yes. Mr. Neston----?" - -"Yes, Mrs. Witt? Why don't you come too." - -"At any rate, you'd--you and your friends--be somebody to speak to, -wouldn't you?" said Neaera, resting her chin on her hand and gazing at -George. - -"Oh yes, you must come. We shall be very jolly." - -"Poor us! But perhaps it will console us to mingle our tears." - -"Will you come?" asked George. - -"I shan't tell you," she said with a laugh. "It must be purely -accidental." - -"A fortuitous concurrence? Very well. We go to-morrow." - -"I don't want to know when you go." - -"No. But we do." - -Neaera laughed again, and George took his leave, better pleased with -the world than when he arrived. A call on a pretty woman often has this -effect; sometimes, let us add, to complete our commonplace, just the -opposite. - -"Why shouldn't I?" he argued to himself. "I don't know why I should get -all the blame for nothing. If they think it of me, I may as well do -it." - -But when George reached his lodgings, he found on the table, side by -side with Mr. Blodwell's final letter about the Brighton trip, Laura -Pocklington's note. And then--away went Brighton, and Neaera Witt, and -the reckless defiance of public opinion, and all the rest of it! And -George swore at himself for a heartless, distrustful, worthless person, -quite undeserving to receive such a letter from such a lady. And when -the second letter came the next morning, he swore again, at himself for -his meditated desertion, and by all his gods, that he would be worthy of -such favour. - -"The child's a trump," he said, "a regular trump! And she shan't be -worried by hearing of me hanging about in Mrs. Witt's neighbourhood." - -The happy reflections which ensued were appropriate, but hackneyed, -being in fact those of a man much in love. It is, however, worth notice -that Laura's refusal to think evil had its reward: for if she had -suspected George, she would never have shown him her heart in those -letters; and, but for those letters, he might have gone to Brighton, -and----; whereas what did happen was something quite different. - - - - -CHAPTER XIX. - -SOME ONE TO SPEAK TO. - - -Being a public character, although an object of ambition to many, has -its disadvantages. Fame is very pleasant, but we do not want everybody -in the hotel to point at us when we come down to dinner. When Neaera -went to Brighton--for it is surely unnecessary to say that she intended -to go and did go thither--she felt that the fame which had been thrust -upon her debarred her from hotels, and she took lodgings of a severely -respectable type, facing the sea. There she waited two days, spending -her time walking and driving where all the world walks and drives. There -were no signs of George, and Neaera felt aggrieved. She sent him a line, -and waited two days more. Then she felt she was being treated as badly -as possible--unkindly, negligently, faithlessly, disrespectfully. He had -asked her to come; the invitation was as plain as could be: without a -word, she was thrown over! In great indignation she told her maid to -pack up, and, meanwhile, sallied out to see if the waves would perform -their traditional duty of soothing a wounded spirit. The task was a hard -one; for, whatever Neaera Witt had suffered, neglect at the hands of man -was a grief fortune had hitherto spared her. - -She forsook the crowded parade, and strolled down by the water's edge. -Presently she sat down under the shade of a boat, and surveyed the -waters and the future. She felt very lonely. George had seemed inclined -to be pleasant but now he had deserted her. She had no one to speak to. -What was the use of being pretty and rich? Everything was very hard and -she had done no real harm, and was a very, very miserable girl, and---- -Under the shade of the boat, Neaera cried a little, choosing the moment -when there were no passers-by. - -But one who came from behind escaped her vigilance. He saw the gleam of -golden hair, and the slim figure, and the little shapely head bowing -forward to meet the gloved hands; and he came down the beach, and, -standing behind her for a moment, heard a little gurgle of distress. - -"I beg your pardon," said he. "Can I help?" - -Neaera looked up with a start. The upright figure, bravely resisting -a growing weight of years, the iron-grey hair, the hooked nose, and -pleasant keen eyes seemed familiar to her. Surely she had seen him in -town! - -"Why, it's Mrs. Witt!" he said. "We are acquaintances, or we ought to -be." And he held out his hand, adding, with a smile, "I am Lord -Mapledurham." - -"Oh!" said Neaera. - -"Yes," said the Marquis. "Now, I know all about it, and it's a burning -shame. And, what's more, it's all my fault." - -"Your fault?" she said, in surprise. - -"However, I warned George Neston to let it alone. But he's a hot-headed -fellow." - -"I never thought him that." - -"He is, though. Well, look at this. He asks Blodwell, and Vane, and -me--at least, he didn't ask me, but Blodwell did--to make a party here. -We agree. The next moment--hey, presto! he's off at a tangent!" - -Neaera could not make up her mind whether Lord Mapledurham was giving -this explanation merely to account for his own presence or also for her -information. - -"The fact is, you see," the Marquis resumed, "his affairs are rather -troublesome. He's out of favour with the authorities, you know--Mrs. -Pocklington." - -"Does he mind about Mrs. Pocklington?" - -"He minds about Miss Pocklington, and I suspect----" - -"Yes?" - -"That she minds about him. I met Pocklington at the club yesterday, and -he told me his people had gone abroad. I said it was rather sudden, but -Pocklington turned very gruff, and said 'Not at all.' Of course that -wasn't true." - -"Oh, I hope she will be good to him," said Neaera. "Fancy, if I were the -cause----" - -"As I said at the beginning," interrupted the Marquis, "I'm the cause." - -"You!" - -Then he settled himself by her side, and told her how his reminiscence -had been the first thing to set George on the track of discovery, whence -all the trouble had resulted. - -"So you see," he ended, "you have to put all your woes down to my -chatter." - -"How strange!" she said, dreamily, looking out to sea. - -The Marquis nodded, his eyes scanning her face. - -Then she turned to him suddenly, and said, "I was very young, you know, -and--rather hungry." - -"I am a sinner myself," he answered, smiling. - -"And--and what I did afterwards, I----" - -"I came to make my confession, not to hear yours. How shall I atone for -all I have brought on you? What shall I do now?" - -"I--I only want some friends, and--and some one to speak to," said -Neaera, with a forlorn little sigh. - -The Marquis took her hand and kissed it gallantly. "If that is all," -said he, smiling, "perhaps we may manage." - -"Thanks," said Neaera, putting her handkerchief into her pocket. - -"That's right! Blodwell and Vane are here too, and----" - -"I don't much care about them; but----" - -"Oh, they're all on your side." - -"Are they? I needn't see more of them than I like, need I?" - -The Marquis was not young, no, nor inexperienced; but, all the same, he -was not proof against this flattery. "Perhaps they won't stay long," he -said. - -"And you?" she asked. - -He smiled at her, and, after a moment of innocent seriousness, her lips -wavered into an answering smile. - -The Marquis, after taking tea with Neaera and satisfying himself that -the lady was not planning immediate flight, strolled back to his hotel -in a thoughtful mood. He enjoyed a little triumph over Mr. Blodwell and -Sidmouth Vane at dinner; but this did not satisfy him. For almost the -first time in his life, he felt the need of an adviser and confidant: -he was afraid that he was going to make a fool of himself. Mr. Blodwell -withdrew after dinner, to grapple with some papers which had pursued -him, and the Marquis sat smoking a cigar on a seat with Vane, struggling -against the impulse to trust that young man with his thoughts. Vane was -placidly happy: the distant, hypothetical relations between himself and -Neaera, the like of which his busy idle brain constructed around every -attractive marriageable woman he met, had no power to disturb either his -soul or his digestion. If it so fell out, it would be well; but he was -conscious that the object would wring from him no very active exertions. - -"Mrs. Witt expected to find George here, I suppose?" he asked, flicking -the ash from his cigar. - -"Yes, I think so." - -"Anything on there?" - -"Nothing at all, my dear fellow," replied the Marquis, with more -confidence than he would have shown twelve hours before. "She knows he's -mad about little Laura Pocklington." - -"I'll call on her to-morrow," said Vane, with his usual air of gracious -condescension. - -"She's living very quietly," remarked the Marquis. - -Vane turned towards him with a smile and almost a wink. "Oho!" he said. - -"Be respectful to your elders, you young dog," said the Marquis. - -"You make us forget your claims in that respect. You must be more -venerable," answered Vane. - -After a moment's silent smoking, "Why don't you marry?" asked the -Marquis. It is a question which often means that the questioner's own -thoughts are trending in that direction. - -"I'm waiting for that heiress." Then he added, perhaps out of good -nature, "If it comes to that, why don't you?" - -"I'm not anxious to have people pointing at me for an old fool." - -"Oh, hang people! Besides, you're not old." - -"Fifty-six." - -"That's nothing nowadays." - -"You're laughing!" said the Marquis, suspiciously. - -"Upon my honour, no." - -The Marquis laughed too, and put his cigar back in his mouth. He took -it out again almost at once. "It wouldn't be bad to have a son," he -said. "I mean an heir, you know." - -"The first step is a wife then, no doubt." - -"Most women are so tedious. Still, you understand my feeling?" - -"I might in your position. For myself, I hate brats." - -"Ah, you will feel it some day." - -Vane thought this rather barefaced. "When did it attack you?" he asked -with a smile. - -"This afternoon," answered the Marquis, gravely. - -Vane's cynical humour was tickled by the _dénoûment_ this admission -suggested. "Gad! I should like to see Gerald Neston's face!" he -chuckled, forgetting his own designs in his gratification. - -"Of course she's--well, the deuce of a flirt," said the Marquis. - -Vane risked a philosophical generalisation. "All nice women are flirts," -he said. "That's what you mean when you call them nice." - -"Very pretty and attractive, though." - -"And the shoes?" - -"Damn the shoes!" said the Marquis. - -The next morning, Mr. Blodwell and Sidmouth Vane went to London; but the -society papers recorded that the Marquis of Mapledurham prolonged his -stay at Brighton. - - - - -CHAPTER XX. - -FATE'S INSTRUMENTS. - - -Summer and autumn came and went. The season died lingeringly and -suffered its slow resurrection. Grouse and partridges, autumn scares -and vacation speeches, the yield of the crops and the beginning of the -session each had their turn of public favour, and the great Neston -sensation died away, galvanised now and again into a fitful spasm of -life by Mr. Espion's persevering battery. His efforts were in vain. All -the cats were out of all the bags, and the interest of the public was -satiated. The actors in the drama, returning to town, as most of them -did in the winter, found themselves restored to obscurity; their story, -once so eagerly dished up as the latest gossip, was now the stale stock -of bores, useful only to regale the very young or the very provincial -palate. - -All at once, there was a revival. A rumour, a piquant rumour, began to -be whispered at the clubs. Men again looked at Gerald Neston, wondering -if he had heard it, and at George, asking how he would take it. Mr. -Blodwell had to protest ignorance twenty times a day, and Sidmouth Vane -intrenched himself in the safe seclusion of his official apartment. If -it were true, it was magnificent. Who knew? - -Mr. Pocklington heard the rumour, but, communing with his own heart, -held his tongue. He would not disturb the peace that seemed again to -have settled on his house. Laura, having asserted her independence, had -allowed the subject to drop; she had been bright, cheerful, and docile, -had seen sights, and gone to entertainments, and made herself agreeable; -and Mrs. Pocklington hoped, against a secret conviction, that the -rebellion was not only sleeping but dead. She could not banish herself -from London; so, with outward confidence and inward fear, she brought -her daughter home in November, praying that George Neston might not -cross her path, praying too, in her kind heart, that time might remove -the silent barrier between her and her daughter, against which she -fretted in vain. - -But certain other people had no idea of leaving the matter to the slow -and uncertain hand of time. There was a plot afoot. George was in it, -and Sidmouth Vane, and Mr. Blodwell; so was the Marquis, and another, -whose present name it would ruin our deep mystery to disclose--if it be -guessed, there is no help for it. And just when Laura was growing sad, -and a little hurt and angry at hearing nothing from George, she chanced -to have a conversation with Sidmouth Vane, and emerged therefrom, -laughing, blushing, and riotously happy, though the only visible outcome -of the talk was an invitation for her mother and herself to join in the -mild entertainment of afternoon tea at Vane's rooms the next day. Now, -Sidmouth Vane was very deceitful; he, so to say, appropriated to his -own use and credit Laura's blushes and Laura's laughter, and, when the -invitation came, innocent Mrs. Pocklington, without committing herself -to an approval of Mr. Vane, rejoiced to think it pleased Laura to take -tea with any young man other than George Neston, and walked into the -trap with gracious urbanity. - -Vane received his guests, Mr. Blodwell supporting him. Mrs. Pocklington -and her daughter were the first arrivals, and Vane apologised for the -lateness of the others. - -"Lord Mapledurham is coming," he said, "and he's been very busy lately." - -"I thought he was out of town," said Mrs. Pocklington. - -"He only came back yesterday." - -The door opened, and Vane's servant announced with much pomp, "The -Marquis and Marchioness of Mapledurham." - -The Marquis advanced straight to Mrs. Pocklington; then he took Neaera's -hand, and said, "You have always been good to me, Mrs. Pocklington. I -hope you'll be as good to my wife." - -It was hushed up as far as possible, but still it leaked out that, on -this sole occasion, Mrs. Pocklington was at a loss--was, in fact, if -the word be allowable, flabbergasted. Vane maliciously hinted at burnt -feathers and other extreme remedies, and there was really no doubt at -all that Laura untied her mother's bonnet-strings. - -Neaera stood looking on, half proud, half frightened, till Laura ran to -her and kissed her, and called her the best friend she had, with much -other emotional language. - -Then Mrs. Pocklington came round, and took a cup of tea, and, still -unconsciously doing just as she was meant to do, drifted into the -balcony with the Marquis, and had a long conversation with him. When she -came back, she found Vane ordering a fresh pot of tea. - -"But we must really be going," she said. "Mustn't we, Laura?" And as she -spoke she took her daughter's hand and patted it. - -"Do you expect any one else, Vane?" asked Mr. Blodwell. - -"Well, I did, but he's very late." - -"Where can he have got to?" asked Neaera, smiling. - -"Oh, I know where he is," said Vane. "He's--he's only in the next room." - -Everybody looked at Mrs. Pocklington and smiled. She looked at them all, -and last at her daughter. Laura was smiling too, but her eyes were eager -and imploring. - -"If he wants any tea, he had better come in," said Mrs. Pocklington. - -So the pair of shoes wrought out their work, giving society yet another -sensation, making Neaera Witt a great lady, and Laura Pocklington -a happy woman, and confirming all Mrs. Bort's darkest views on the -immorality of the aristocracy. And the Marquis and George Neston put -their heads together, and caused to be fashioned two dainty little -shoes in gold and diamonds, and gave them to their wives, as a sign and -remembrance of the ways of destiny. And Neaera wears the shoe, and will -talk to you quite freely about Peckton Gaol. - -The whole affair, however, shocked Lord Tottlebury very deeply, and -Gerald Neston is still a bachelor. 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Moberly has a remarkable talent for - making a simple story, thoroughly interesting and satisfying. It - needs much skill and a good deal of charm in writing to achieve - this, and her latest novel is a fine example of her power." - -THAT PREPOSTEROUS WILL. - - THE DAILY GRAPHIC.--"We could wish that every novel were as - pleasant, unsophisticated and readable as this one." - -HOPE, MY WIFE. - - THE GENTLEWOMAN.--"Miss Moberly interests us so much in heroine, and - in her hero, that we follow the two with pleasure through adventures - of the most improbable order." - -DIANA. - - THE SCOTSMAN.--"So cleverly handled as to keep its interest always - lively and stimulating; and the book cannot fail to be enjoyed." - -DAN--AND ANOTHER. - - THE DAILY NEWS.--"Must be considered one of the best pieces of work - that Miss Moberly has yet produced." - -A TANGLED WEB. - - THE DAILY MAIL.--"A 'tangled web,' indeed, is this story, and the - author's ingenuity and intrepidity in developing and working out the - mystery calls for recognition at the outset." - -ANGELA'S MARRIAGE. - - IRISH INDEPENDENT.--"That Miss Moberly has a delightful and graceful - style is not only evident from a perusal of some of her former - works, but from the fascinatingly told story now under review." - -THE SIN OF ALISON DERING. - - THE FINANCIAL TIMES.--"The plot of this story is cleverly conceived - and well carried out. Miss Moberly writes with great charm and - skill, and the reader is not likely to put down the book until the - tangle is finally cleared up. As a character-study, the figure of - Alison Dering is drawn with considerable insight." - -A VERY DOUBTFUL EXPERIMENT. - - IRISH INDEPENDENT.--"Miss Moberly's former works have well - established her ability to write fascinating fiction and create - interest in her actors, but we doubt if she has ever introduced - a character whose career would be followed with more absorbing - interest than that of Rachael Boyd." - -A WOMAN AGAINST THE WORLD. - - THE SCOTSMAN.--"The whole tale is a powerful and enthralling one, - and cannot fail to enhance the growing reputation of the authoress." - - - - -Transcriber's Note - - -For the txt-version of this e-book words in italics have been surrounded -by _underscores_, and small capitals changed to all capitals. - -The following corrections have been made, on page - - 9 "that" changed to "than" (no less special in kind than in degree) - 49 " added (unless you get it very soon----") - 57 . added (answered Gerald. "This) - 69 "epiphet" changed to "epithet" (the propriety of Mrs. - Pocklington's epithet) - 79 double "a" removed (That's only a copy.) - 126 " added (helped him to the nearest gin-palace.") - 156 ' changed to " (made you cry?") - 164 ' changed to " ("Yes--my handwriting.) - 176 . added (if you choose that word.) - 189 "b" changed to "be" (she will be very obdurate) - 201 . changed to ," (the woman is," Neaera continued) - 214 " added (a chance of reopening the acquitance.") - 247 " added (and separate excitement."). - -Otherwise the original has been preserved, including the use of archaic -words and inconsistent hyphenation. - - - - - -End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Mr. Witt's Widow, by Anthony Hope - -*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK MR. 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