diff options
Diffstat (limited to '44828-0.txt')
| -rw-r--r-- | 44828-0.txt | 15823 |
1 files changed, 15823 insertions, 0 deletions
diff --git a/44828-0.txt b/44828-0.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..648d9a7 --- /dev/null +++ b/44828-0.txt @@ -0,0 +1,15823 @@ +*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 44828 *** + +_Transcriber's Note_: This book is actually _His Guardian Angel; +or, Wild Margaret_ by Charles Garvice. This edition was erroneously +attributed to Geraldine Fleming, a house pseudonym used by Street & +Smith. See further notes at the end of the book for more information. + + + + +WILD MARGARET. + +BY GERALDINE FLEMING. + + + + +CONTENTS + + + CHAPTER I. + CHAPTER II. + CHAPTER III. + CHAPTER IV. + CHAPTER V. + CHAPTER VI. + CHAPTER VII. + CHAPTER VIII. + CHAPTER IX. + CHAPTER X. + CHAPTER XI. + CHAPTER XII. + CHAPTER XIII. + CHAPTER XIV. + CHAPTER XV. + CHAPTER XVI. + CHAPTER XVII. + CHAPTER XVIII. + CHAPTER XIX. + CHAPTER XX. + CHAPTER XXI. + CHAPTER XXII. + CHAPTER XXIII. + CHAPTER XXIV. + CHAPTER XXV. + CHAPTER XXVI. + CHAPTER XXVII. + CHAPTER XXVIII. + CHAPTER XXIX. + CHAPTER XXX. + CHAPTER XXXI. + CHAPTER XXXII. + CHAPTER XXXIII. + + + + +CHAPTER I. + + +When the train drew up at the small station of Leyton Ferrers, which +it did in the slowest and most lazy of fashions, two persons got out. +One was a young girl, who alighted from a third-class carriage, and +who dragged out from under the seat a leather bag and a square parcel +instead of waiting for the porter, who was too much engaged in light +and pleasant conversation with the guard, to pay any attention to such +small cattle as passengers. + +The other person was a young man, who sauntered out of a first-class +carriage, with a cigar in his lips, and his soft traveling cap a little +on one side, and with that air which individuals who have been lucky +enough to be born with silver spoons in their mouths naturally acquire, +or are endowed with. Standing on the platform, as if it and the whole +Great South-Northern Railway system belonged to him, this young +gentleman at last caught sight of the porter. + +"Hi, porter!" he called, and when the man came up, quickening his pace +as he took in the tall, well-dressed figure of his summoner, the young +man continued with a smile, "Sorry to tear you away from your bosom +friend, my man, but there's a portmanteau of mine in the van, or should +be." + +The porter touched his hat, and was going toward the van, when the +young man called after him: + +"See to that young lady first," he said, indicating with a slight nod +the young girl, who was struggling with the bag and the parcel. + +Somewhat surprised at this display of unselfishness, the porter turned +like a machine, and addressed the girl; the young man sauntered down +the platform and, leaning over the fence, surveyed the June roses +in the station-master's garden with an indolent and good-tempered +patience. + +"Any luggage, miss?" asked the porter. + +"No; nothing but these," said the girl. "Here is the ticket;" then +she looked round. "Can you tell me how far Leyton Court is from the +station?" + +"Little better than two miles and a half," replied the porter. + +"Two miles and a half--that means three miles," said the girl, and she +looked inquiringly at the road and across the fields, over which the +dying sun was sending a warm, rich crimson. + +"Yes, miss. Will you have a fly? There is one outside," he added, +with a touch of impatience, for it seemed highly improbable that more +than twopence--at the most--could proceed from his present job, while +sixpence or a shilling, no doubt, awaited him from the aristocratic +young gentleman still lounging over the garden fence. The girl thought +a moment; then, with the faintest flush, said: + +"No, thank you. I will leave my luggage; there will be something, some +cart----" + +"Carrier's cart goes to the Court every evening!" broke in the porter, +and, seizing the bag and the parcel, and dropping them in a corner with +that sublime indifference to the safety of other people's goods which +only a railway porter can adequately display, hurried off to the other +passenger. + +The young girl went with a light step down the station stairs, and +having reached the road, stopped. + +"How stupid of me!" she said. "I ought to have asked the way." + +She was turning back to worry the porter once more when she saw a +finger-post, upon which was written, "To Leyton Court," and, with a +little sigh of relief, she went down the road indicated. + +Meanwhile the porter had got the portmanteau, and stood awaiting the +passenger's pleasure. + +After a minute or two, and in the most leisurely fashion possible, the +young man turned to him. + +"Got the bag? All right. I'm going to Leyton Court." The porter touched +his cap. "Is there anything here that can take me?" + +"There's a fly, sir," said the porter, nodding toward the road, where +a shambling kind of vehicle on its last wheels, attached to a horse on +its last legs, stood expectantly. + +The young man surveyed the turn-out, and laughed. + +"All right; take the bag down to it. Wait! here's a drink for you. By +the way, where can I get one for myself? No inn or anything here?" + +"No, sir, nothing," said the porter, with almost pathetic sadness. +"Nearest is at Parrock's Cross, a mile and a half on the road." + +"Then I shall have to remain thirsty till I get to Parrock's Cross," +said the young man, with an easy smile. "Do you think your horse can +get as far as that, my friend?" he added to the driver. + +The man grunted, mounted the box, and the Noah's ark rattled slowly +away. + +The young man lit another cigar, put up his feet on the opposite +cushions, and surveyed the scenery, through eyes half closed, in +perfect contentment, good humor, and indolent laziness. Presently +they came abreast of the young girl, who was stepping along with the +graceful gait which belongs to youth, and health, and good breeding. + +"Now, I wonder where she is going?" he said to himself as he looked at +her. "If she were a man now, I would give her a lift; as it is----By +George! she's pretty though. Pretty? She's lovely! I wonder whether +she'd take the fly from me, and let me tramp it instead of her? Don't +dare ask her! I know what she'd do--give me a look that would make +me wish I were fifty miles under the sea, and not say a word. What a +devil of a stupid world it is!" And with this reflection as a kind of +consolation, he made himself a little more comfortable, and closed his +eyes completely. + +It was a lovely evening. Some days in June, as we miserable Englishmen +know only too well, are delusions and snares, cold as December or wet +as October, but it was late in the month and really summer weather; +and as the girl walked along the smooth path, which a shower had made +pleasant, the trees shone in all their midsummer beauty; the birds sang +their evening hymns; the flowers loaded the air with perfume. + +It is good to be a girl, it is good to be young, it is good to be +beautiful, but it is best of all to be innocent and happy, and she was +all these. To save her life she could not help singing softly as she +walked through all the splendor of this summer evening, and so she +joined the birds in their evening hymn to the tune of "Oh, Mistress +Mine!" stopping now and again to gather a spray of honeysuckle or a +particularly fine dog-rose, of which the hedges were full. + +The fly rattled on its way and came in due course to Parrock's Cross; +and the horse, no doubt with a sigh of relief, pulled up of its own +accord at the door of the village inn. + +The young man woke up--if he had really been asleep--jumped out without +opening the door and sauntered into the inn. + +"Give the man what he likes, and me a bottle of Bass," he said to the +landlord, and he threw himself down on the rustic seat outside the door. + +The landlord brought the ale, touching his forehead obsequiously, for +like most country people he knew a gentleman when he saw him, and the +young man took a huge draught. + +"That's very good beer," he said, nodding. "Get another bottle for +yourself. How many miles is it to Leyton Court?" + +"Not more than a mile, sir," said the landlord, touching his forehead +again, for a man who was not only a gentleman but who was going to +Leyton Court was worthy of all the respect that could be paid him. + +"Is that all? Look here, then; I shall walk it. That contrivance +reminds me too forcibly of a hearse; besides, I want to stretch my +legs." He stretched them as he spoke; they were long legs and admirably +shaped. "Tell the man to take the bag on. Here's five shillings for +him." + +"The fare's half-a-crown from the station, sir," said the landlord. + +The gentleman laughed lazily. + +"All right. Tell him to put the other two-and-six in the poor-box." + +The landlord laughed respectfully, and the young man, left alone, +leaned back on the seat and drank his beer in indolent content. +Presently the girl passed on the other side of the road. + +"Hullo!--there she is again!" he said. "I wonder where she is going? I +dare say she's thirsty. It's a pity she isn't a man, for I could ask +her to have a drink. Do you know that young lady, landlord?" he asked. + +The man shaded his eyes and looked after the girl. + +"No, sir," he said. "No. The lady's a stranger to me, sir; a perfect +stranger." + +The young man smoked his cigar and watched the graceful figure going +down the road in the twilight with a touch of interest on his handsome +face. He seemed in no hurry to pursue his journey by any means; and +when he rose, at length, he yawned and stretched himself. + +"Could you give me a bed here to-night, landlord?" he asked. + +The man eyed the ground doubtfully. + +"We're plain people, sir----" he commenced. + +"I like plain people," broke in the young man with a laugh, the music +of which never failed to call up an answering smile on the faces of +those who heard it. "I don't mind roughing it; I'm used to it. I'm not +sure that I shall want one; but if I should----" + +"We'll do our best to make you comfortable, sir," said the landlord, +touching his forehead again. + +"Right!" exclaimed the young man, carelessly. "Well, don't be surprised +if you see me back in--say a couple of hours. Straight on to the Court, +I suppose?" + +"Straight on, sir," said the landlord, and swinging his stick with a +careless, happy-go-lucky air, the young man started off. + +Slowly as he walked, his long legs soon overtook the young girl, and he +passed her again, as she was standing on tiptoe to get a flower from +the hedge. He half stopped with the evident intention of reaching the +blossom, which reared itself tantalizingly just beyond her reach, but +he thought--"she won't like it perhaps; think I want to intrude myself +upon her," and walked on. She had not turned her head. + +Probably the loveliness of the evening had the same effect upon him as +it had upon her, for when he had got out of her hearing he began to +sing, for, you see, he was young and handsome, in good health, and--I +was going to say innocent, but pulled up in time. + +In a quarter of an hour the road grew wider, and opened out on to a +village green. Two or three houses were dotted about it, and an inn +with the sign of the Ferrers Arms swinging on a post. A little further +stood a pair of huge iron gates, with a lodge at the side of them. + +"That's the Court, I suppose?" he said to himself. "Now for the tug of +war! Lord, how I wish myself back in London!" and he flicked his cap +onto the back of his head, and laughed ruefully. + +Some children were playing on the green, and two or three men lounged +on the settle outside the inn. Suddenly one of them rose, just as the +young man came abreast of the door, and as he made way for the man to +pass, a dog ran out from the inn and caused the man to stumble. The +fellow uttered an oath and raised his heavily-booted foot. The kick +struck the dog in the side, and with a howl of pain he fled behind the +young man. + +Now a moment before his handsome face had been a picture of indolent +good temper, but at the kick and the howl his face changed. The +lips grew set, the eyes stern and fierce. He was not a good young +man--alas, alas! it will be seen that he was a thousand miles removed +from that--but his heart was as tender as a woman's, and he loved dumb +animals--dogs and horses in especial--with that love of which only a +strong, healthy, young Englishman is capable. + +"You brute!" he said, not loudly, but with an intense emphasis, which +caused the man to pull up and stare at him with an astonished scowl. + +"Did you speak to me, guv'nor?" he growled. + +He was a tall, wiry-looking ruffian, and his voice seemed to proceed +from the bottom of his chest, and the glance he shot at the speaker +came from a pair of evil-looking eyes, deeply sunk beneath thick and +black brows. + +"I did!" said the young man curtly; "I called you a brute!" and he +stooped and comforted the dog. + +The man eyed him up and down with a vindictive glare. + +"Can't I kick my own dawg?" he demanded, with a most atrocious attempt +at a sneer. + +"Not when I am near," said the young man, quite calmly, but meeting the +glare of the evil eyes with a steady firmness. + +"Oh, I can't, can't I?" retorted the man. "You get out of the way and +I'll show you, curse you!" + +The young man stepped aside, apparently to leave the dog exposed to the +threatened assault, but as the man lifted his foot the young fellow +thrust his own forward, and launching out with his left hand, dealt the +man a blow which sent him a mass of arms and legs against the doorway. + +The dog fled, the group of idlers who had remained seated, listening to +the colloquy, sprung up and drew near, exchanging glances and staring +at the pair. + +The young fellow stood in the easiest of attitudes, with something like +a smile on his lips, for the man's attitude of complete astonishment as +he leant against the doorway was rather comical. + +"That was a good 'un," cautiously whispered one of the men, looking at +the young fellow admiringly. "'Tain't often Jem Pyke gets it like that, +are it?" + +The man called Pyke pulled himself together, and stretching himself +glared round him; then his eyes rested on the young fellow, and he +seemed to remember. + +With an oath he made ready for a spring, but the young fellow raised +his hand. + +"Wait a minute, my friend," he said, almost pleasantly. "If you are +anxious for a fight, say so, and let us have it comfortably. I haven't +the slightest objection myself." + +"Curse you, I'll--I'll kill you!" gasped the man. + +The young fellow laughed. + +"I don't think you will, my friend. I'm afraid you'll be disappointed, +I really am; but if you'd like to try----" + +He threw his cigar away, and, taking off his light shooting jacket, +tossed it on to the settle. + +As he did so his back was turned to the road along which he had come, +and he didn't see the young girl, who had been near enough to witness +the scene from its commencement, and was now kneeling down by the dog +and murmuring womanly words of pity and sympathy. + +"Let the gentleman alone, Jem," said one of the men. "'Twas all +your fault. What did you want to go and kick the dawg for? Beg the +gentleman's pardon, and go and get your beer." + +For all response Jem commenced to turn up his sleeves. Two or three of +the men got between them, but the young fellow waved them aside. + +"Don't interfere, my men," he said pleasantly. "Your friend is dying +for a fight, I can see, and a little exercise will give me an appetite. +Just stand back, will you?" + +The next instant Pyke rushed at him, and the first blows were delivered. + +The girl heard the sound of them, and, with a cry of fear and horror, +started as if to run across to them, but her heart failed her, and she +shrank back against the hedge, looking on with hands clasped, and her +face white and terrified. + +The man Pyke was a giant in length and strength, but he was in a rage, +and no man who is in a rage can fight well. The young fellow on the +other hand was, now, in the best of humor, and thoroughly enjoying +himself, and he parried the furious onslaught of his opponent as easily +as if he were having a set-to at a gymnasium. The blows grew quicker +and smarter, one from the young man had reached Mr. Pyke's face, and +had cooled him a little. He saw that if he meant to win he must play +more cautiously, and drawing back a little, he began again, with +something like calculation. Like the blows of a sledge hammer his fists +fell upon the chest of the young fellow, one struck him upon the lip +and the blood started. + +With a smile the young man seemed to think that it was time to end the +little drama, and planting his left foot firmly forward, he delivered +one blow straight from the shoulder. It fell upon the bully's forehead +with a fearful crash, and the same instant, as it seemed, he staggered +and fell full length to the ground. A murmur of consternation and +admiration--for the blow had really been a skillful one--arose from the +group of onlookers, and they crowded round the prostrate man. + +"Dang me if I don't think he's killed 'im!" exclaimed the ostler, +lifting Jem Pyke's head on his knee. + +"What do you say?" said the young fellow, and, pushing them aside, he +bent down and examined his late foe. "No, he's not dead. See, he's +coming to already. Get some water, some of you--better still, some +brandy. That's it. There you are!" he added, cheerfully, as Pyke +opened his eyes and struggled to his feet. "How are you? You ought to +have countered that last shot of mine, don't you know. You don't box +badly, a little wild, perhaps, but then you were wild, weren't you? and +that's always a mistake. Well one of us was bound to win, and there's +no harm done, though you've got a bump or two, and"--putting his hand +to his own face--"my figurehead isn't improved. There," and under the +pretense of shaking the man's hand, he slipped half a sovereign into +the wiry palm. "Get yourself a drink--and good-morning," and with a +laugh and a nod he was striding across the road, when, seeing the pump +at the head of the horse trough, he called to a boy to work the handle, +and with his pocket-handkerchief washed his face and head, coming out +of the impromptu bath with his short chestnut hair all shining like a +Greek god's. + +Then he strolled across the road, and--for the first time became aware +that the young girl from the station had been a spectator of the scene. + +He pulled up short within a few paces of her, and the two stood and +looked at each other. She had the dog in her arms, and on her face and +in her eyes was an expression which baffles my powers of description. +It was not fright nor disgust, nor admiration, nor scorn, but a little +of each skillfully and most perplexedly mingled. Women hate fighting, +when it is inconveniently near to them; on the other hand they love +courage, because they have so little of it themselves, and they adore a +man who will stand up in defense of one of themselves or a dumb animal. + +The girl had longed to turn and fly at the first sight and sound of the +awful blows, but she could not: a horrible fascination kept her chained +to the spot, and even when the fray was over she still stood, trembling +and palpitating, her color coming and going in turn, her arms quite +squeezing the dog in her excitement and emotion. + +The young man looked at her, took in the oval face, with its dark, +eloquent eyes and sweet, tremulous lips, the tall, graceful figure, +even the plain blue serge, which seemed so part and parcel of that +figure; then his glance dropped awkwardly, and he said, shamefacedly: + +"I beg your pardon; I didn't know you were looking on." + +The girl drew a long breath. + +"You ought to be ashamed of yourself," she said, sternly, with a little +catch in her voice. + +He raised his eyes a moment--they were handsome, and, if the truth must +be told, dare-devil eyes--then dropped them again. + +"It--it is shameful," she went on, her lovely face growing carmine, her +eyes flashing rebukingly, "for two men to fight like--like dogs; and +one a gentleman!" + +He looked rather bewildered, as if this view of the proceedings was +something entirely novel. + +"Oh, come, you know," he said, deprecatingly, "there isn't much harm +done." + +"Not much! I saw you knock him down as if--as if he were dead!" she +said, indignantly. "And you--oh, look at your face!" and she turned her +eyes away. + +As this was an impossibility, he did the next best thing to it, and put +his hand to his cheek and lips. + +"I don't think he's hurt much," he said, excusingly, "and I'm not +a bit. I think we rather enjoyed it; I know I did," he added, half +inaudibly, and with the beginning of a laugh which was smitten dead as +she said, with the air of a judge: + +"You must be a savage!" + +"I--I think I am," he assented, with a rueful air of conviction. "But, +all the same, I'm sorry you were here! If I'd known there was a lady +looking on I'd have put it off! I'm afraid you've been upset; but don't +worry yourself about either of us! Our long-legged friend will be all +the better for a little shaking up, and as for me----The dog isn't +hurt, is he?" + +"I--I don't know," she said. + +He came a little nearer, and took the dog from her, noticing that in +extending it to him she shrank back, as if his touch would pollute her. + +"No; he's all right!" he said, after turning the animal over, and +setting him on his legs. "He ought to have some of his ribs broken, but +he hasn't! I'm glad of that, poor little beggar," and for the first +time his voice softened. + +The girl looked at him with grave displeasure. + +"I am afraid he is the best Christian of the three," she said, severely. + +"By George, I shouldn't wonder!" he muttered, with the ghost of a smile. + +She gave him another glance, then, without a word, raised her head +loftily and passed on. + +He lifted his hat and looked after her, then tugged at his mustache +thoughtfully. + +"So I'm a savage, am I?" he said. "Well, I expect she's about right! +What a beautiful girl! I'm a savage! By George, the old man will say +the same if I present myself with this highly-colored physiognomy. I'd +better go back to the inn, and turn up later on." + +As he stood hesitating, the fly crawled up with the bag; the man had +pulled up within view of the fight, and had enjoyed it thoroughly. + +"Here, wait! I'll go back with you! I've decided to stay at your place +for the night," said the young fellow; and he jumped in. + +"Not hurt, I hope, sir?" said the man, as he turned the horse. "It was +a right down good fight, sir; it was, indeed!" + +"Not a bit! There, hurry up that four-legged skeleton of yours! I'm as +hungry as a--a--savage," he concluded, as if by a happy inspiration, +and throwing himself along the cushions, he laughed, but rather +uneasily. + + + + +CHAPTER II. + + +The girl, without looking behind her or vouchsafing even a glance of +farewell, walked on until she reached the great iron gates. There she +rang the bell which hung like a huge iron tear, within reach of her +hand, and on the lodge-keeper coming out, inquired if Mrs. Hale were in. + +"Mrs. Hale? Yes, miss; she is up at the house," said the woman. "You +are Miss Margaret, I expect?" + +"Yes," said the girl; "my name is Margaret. I am Mrs. Hale's +granddaughter." + +"She has been expecting you, miss. Keep along the avenue and you'll +come to the small gates and see the Court. There are sure to be some of +the servants about, and they'll tell you whereabouts Mrs. Hale's rooms +are." + +The great gate swung heavily back, and Margaret passed through. The +avenue wound in and about for nearly half a mile, and she was thinking +that she should never get to the end of it, when at a sudden turn a +sight broke upon her which caused her to stop with astonishment. + +As if it had sprung from the ground, raised by a magician's wand, rose +Leyton Court. You can buy any number of photographs of it, and are no +doubt quite familiar with its long stretching pile of red bricks and +white facings; but Margaret had seen neither the place nor any views of +it, and the vision of grandeur and beauty took her breath away. + +Far down the line of sight the facade stretched, wing upon wing, all +glowing a dusky red veiled by ivy and Virginian creeper, and sparkling +here and there as the sunset rays shone on the diamond-latticed +windows. The most intense silence reigned over the whole; not a human +being was in sight, and the girl was quite startled when a peacock, +which had been strutting across a lawn that looked like velvet, spread +its tail and uttered a shrill shriek. + +The size and grandeur of the place awed her, and she stood uncertain +which direction to take, when a maid-servant, with a pleasant face and +a shy smile, came hurriedly through a wicket set in the closely-cut box +hedge, and said: + +"Are you Miss Margaret, please?" + +"Yes," she replied. + +"Mrs. Hale sent me to meet you, miss. This way please." And with a +smile of welcome, the girl led her through a narrow alley of greenery +into a near courtyard which seemed to belong to a wing of the great +house. An old fountain plashed in the center of the court and all +around were beds of bright flowers, which filled the air with color and +perfume. Up the old red walls also climbed blue starred clematis and +honeysuckle, through which the windows glistened like diamonds. + +Margaret looked round and drew her breath with that excess of pleasure +which is almost pain. + +"Oh what a lovely place!" she murmured involuntarily. + +The servant looked pleased. + +"It is pretty, isn't it, miss?" she assented. "Of course it isn't the +grand part of the Court, but _I_ think that it's as beautiful as any +part of the terrace or the Italian gardens." + +"Nothing could be more lovely than this!" said Margaret. + +Then she uttered a low cry of loving greeting, and, running forward, +threw her arms round an old lady, who, hearing her voice, had come to +the open doorway. + +"Why Margaret--Madge!" said the old lady tremulously, as she pressed +the girl to her bosom, and then held her at arm's length that she might +look into her face. "Why my dear--my dear! Why, how you've grown! Is +this my little Margaret?--my little pale-faced Madge, who was no taller +than the table, and all legs and wings?" and leading the girl into a +bright little parlor, she sank into a chair, and holding her by the +hands, looked her over with that loving admiration of which only a +mother or a grandmother can be capable; and the old lady was justified, +for the girl, as she stood, slightly leaning forward with a flush on +her face and her eyes glowing with affection and emotion, presented a +picture beautiful enough to melt the heart of an anchorite. + +"Yes, it's I, grandma," she said, half laughing, half crying. "And you +think I've grown?" + +"Grown! My dear, when I saw you last you were a child; you are a +woman now, and a very"--"beautiful" she was going to say, but stopped +short--"a very passable young woman, too! I can scarcely believe my +eyes! My little madcap Madge!" + +"Oh, not madcap any longer, grandma dear," said the girl, sinking +on her knees and taking off her hat, that she might lean her head +comfortably on the old lady's bosom, "not wild madcap now, you know. I +am Miss Margaret Hale, of the School of Art, and a silver medalist," +and she laughed with sparkling eyes, which rather indicated that there +was something of the wildness left notwithstanding her dignity. + +"Dear, dear me!" murmured the old lady. "Such a grand young lady! You +must tell me all about it. But there, what am I thinking of? You must +be tired--how did you come from the station, dear?" + +"I walked," said the girl. + +"Walked! Why didn't you take a fly, child?" + +The girl colored slightly. + +"Oh, it was a lovely evening and I was tired of sitting so long, +and--and--flys are for rich people, you know grandmamma," laughingly, +"and although I am a silver medalist, I am not a millionaire yet! But +indeed--" she added quickly--"I enjoyed the walk amazingly, it is such +a lovely country, and my things are coming on by the carrier. And now +I'll go and wash some of the dust and smuts away, and come back and +tell you--oh, everything." + +The old lady called the maid, and the girl, still shyly, led Margaret +to a dainty little room which overlooked the flowered court, which +filled it with the odors of the clematis and honeysuckle and sweetbrier. + +Margaret went to the window, and leaning over, drew in a long breath of +the perfumed air. + +"Oh, beautiful! beautiful!" she murmured. "Ah! you should have lived in +London for five years to appreciate this lovely place. Mary--is your +name Mary?" + +The maid blushed. + +"Why, yes, miss! Did you guess it?" she replied, almost awed by the +cleverness of this tall, lovely young creature from London. + +Margaret laughed. + +"Most nice girls are called Mary," she said; "and I am sure you are +nice." + +The girl blushed again, but, rendered speechless with pleasure, could +only stare at her shyly, and run from the room. + +When Margaret came down it seemed to the old lady that she was more +beautiful than before, with her bright soft hair brushed down from her +oval face, and her slim, undulating figure revealed by the absence of +the traveling jacket. Tea was on the table and a huge bowl of Gloire +roses, and the whole room looked the picture of comfort and elegance. + +"Now tell me all about it," said Mrs. Hale, when the girl had got +seated in a low chair beside the window, with her teacup and bread and +butter. "And you are quite a famous personage, Margaret, are you?" + +The girl laughed, a soft, low laugh of innocent happiness. + +"Not famous, dear," she said, "a very long way from the top of the +tree; but I've been lucky in getting one of my pictures into the +Academy and gaining the silver medal, and what is better than all, my +picture is sold." + +This seemed to surprise the unsophisticated old lady more than all the +rest. + +"Dear, dear me!" she mused. "Who ever would have thought that little +wild Madge would become an artist and paint pictures----" + +"And sell them, too," laughed the girl. + +"How proud your poor father would have been if he had lived," added +Mrs. Hale, with a sigh. + +A swift shadow crossed the girl's lovely face, and there was silence +for a moment. + +"And you are quite happy, Madge? The life suits you?" + +"Yes, quite, dear; oh, quite. Of course it is hard work. I paint all +day while there is light enough, and I read books on art--I was going +to say all night," and she smiled. "Then there are the schools and +lectures--oh! it is a very pleasant life when one is so fond of art as +I am." + +"And you don't feel lonely with no kith nor kin near you?" + +"No," she said. "Three of us girls lodge together a little way from +the schools, and so it is not lonely, and the lady who looks after the +house--and us, of course--is pleasant and lady-like. Oh, no, it is not +lonely, but--" her eyes softened--"but I am glad to come down and see +you, grandma--I can't tell you how glad!" and she stretched out her +long, white, shapely hand--the artist's hand--so that the old lady +could take it and fondle it. + +"Yes, my dear," she said. "And I can't tell you how glad I am to have +you. It seems ages instead of five years since we parted in London and +I came down here as housekeeper to the earl--ages! And the change will +do you good; I think you want a little country air; you're looking a +trifle pale, now that you have settled down a bit." + +"It's only the London color," said the girl, smiling. "Nobody carries +many roses on his cheeks in London. What lovely ones those are on the +table, grandma, and what cream! How the girls would stare if they saw +and tasted it. You know we drink chalk and water in London, grandma!" + +"Bless my soul!" exclaimed the old lady. + +"They carry it round in cans and call it milk, but it is chalk and +water all the same," she said, laughingly. "And now, dear, you must +tell me all about yourself--why, we have done nothing but talk about +foolish me since I came! Are _you_ quite happy, grandma, and do you +like being housekeeper to a grand earl?" + +"Very much, my dear," said the old lady, with a touch of dignity. "It +is a most important and responsible post," and she stroked the smooth +white hand she still held. + +"I should think so," said Margaret, with quick sympathy. "Keeping any +kind of house must be a tremendous affair, but keeping such an enormous +place as this--why, grandma, it is like a town, there seems no end to +it!" + +The old lady nodded proudly. + +"Yes. Leyton Court is a very grand place, my dear," she assented. +"I suppose it's one of the grandest, if not _the_ grandest, in the +country. You shall go over it some day when the earl is away." + +"The earl, yes," said Margaret. "It was very kind of him to let me +come." + +Mrs. Hale tossed her head. + +"Oh, my dear, he knows nothing about it!" she said. "Bless me, the +earl is too great a person to know anything about the goings on of +such humble individuals as you and me. I am my own mistress in my +own apartments, my dear, and am quite at liberty to have my own +granddaughter stay with me." + +"Of course," said the girl quickly. "And is he nice?--the earl, I mean." + +"Nice!" repeated the old lady, as if there were something disrespectful +in the word. "Well, 'nice' is scarcely the word--I've only seen him +half a dozen times since I came, so I can't say what he's like; but he +was very pleasant then--in his way, my dear." + +Margaret opened her eyes. + +"Not half-a-dozen times in five years? Then he doesn't live here +always?" + +"Not always. He is in Spain or Ireland some parts of the year, but he +lives at the Court during most of the summer. You see, my dear, great +folks like the Earl of Ferrers keep to themselves more than humble +people. The earl has his own apartments--you can see them from the +drive; they run along the terrace--and his own particular servants. +Excepting Mr. Stibbings, the butler, and Mr. Larkhall, his valet, and +the footmen, none of us see anything of his lordship." + +"He is quite like a king, then?" said the girl musingly. + +"Quite," assented the old lady approvingly; "quite like a king, as you +say; and everybody in Leyton Ferrers regards him as one. Why, the queen +herself couldn't be more looked up to or feared!" + +The girl pondered over this. You don't meet many earls and dukes in the +National Art Schools, and this one possessed an atmosphere of novelty +for Margaret. + +"And does he live here all alone?" she asked. + +"All alone; yes." + +"In this great place? How lonely he must be!" + +"No, my dear," said the old lady. "Great people are never lonely; they +are quite--quite different to us humble folks." + +Margaret smiled to herself at the naive assertion. + +"I thought he would have had some relations to live with him. Hasn't he +any sons--children?" + +Mrs. Hale shook her head. + +"No, no children! There was a son, but he died. There is a nephew, Lord +Blair Leyton, but he and the earl don't agree, and he has never been +here, though, of course, he will come into the property when the earl +dies, which won't be for many a long year, I hope." + +"Blair Leyton! and he's a lord too----" + +"A viscount," said the old lady. "I don't like to speak ill of a +gentleman, especially one I don't know, but I am afraid his young +lordship is--is"--she looked round for a word--"is a very wicked young +man, my dear." + +"How do you know?" asked Margaret, nestling into the comfortable chair +to listen at her ease. + +"Well, Mr. Stibbings has spoken of him. Mr. Stibbings--a perfect +gentleman, my dear--is good enough to drop in and take a cup of tea +sometimes, and he has told me about young Lord Blair! You see, he has +been in the family a great many years, and knows all its history. He +says that the earl and the young nephew never did get on together, and +that the young man is, oh, very wild indeed, my dear! The earl and he +have only met two or three times, and then they quarreled--quarreled +dreadfully. I daresay the earl feels the loss of his son, and that +makes it hard for him to get on with Lord Blair. But he is really a +very wicked young man, I am sorry to say." + +"What does he do?" asked Margaret. + +The old lady looked rather puzzled how to describe a young man's +wickedness to an innocent girl. + +"Well, my dear, it would be easier, perhaps, to say what he _doesn't_ +do!" she said at last. + +Margaret laughed softly. + +"Poor young man," she said gently. "It must be bad to be so wicked!" + +The old lady shook her head severely. + +"I don't know why you pity him, my dear," she said. + +"Oh, I don't know," said the girl, slowly. "Perhaps some people can't +help being bad, you know, grandma! Oh, here are my things coming! +now I can show you one of my pictures!" and she jumped up gleefully, +and commenced unfastening the brown-paper parcel. "I did think of +carrying it, but I am glad I didn't, for it was warm, and I met with an +unpleasant adventure on the road, when the parcel might have been in +the way. Oh, I didn't tell you, grandma! I saw such a terrible fight--a +_fight_! think of it--as I came here." + +"A fight, my dear?" exclaimed the old lady. + +"Yes," nodded Margaret; "between two men; and what made it worse, one +was a gentleman." + +"A gentleman, Margaret! Gentlemen don't fight, my dear." + +"So I thought," she said, naively; "but this one does anyway, and +fights very well," she added. "At least, he knocked the other one +down--a great tall fellow--as if he had been shot." + +"Bless my heart! where was this?" + +"Oh, just in the village here. The man--he was an ill-tempered fellow, +I'm sure, with such a dreadful face--kicked a poor dog, and the +gentleman, who was near, fought him for it." + +"Good gracious me! And, of course, you ran away?" + +The girl laughed rather strangely. + +"No, I didn't, grandma. I ought to have done so, I meant to do so, +but--well, I didn't. I wish I had, for the creature had the impudence +to speak to me!" + +"What--the man?" aghast. + +"The gentleman. He came across the road and begged my pardon. I'd got +the poor dog in my arms, you see, and I suppose--well I don't know +why he spoke, but perhaps it was because, being a gentleman, he felt +ashamed of himself. If he didn't at first, I think he did when he went +away," she added, with a laugh and a blush, as she remembered the words +that had flown like darts of fire from her lips. "Oh, it was shameful! +His face was cut, and there was blood"--she shuddered--"on his collar! +He was a very handsome young man, too. I wonder who he was. Did I tell +you he came down by the same train as I did?" + +Mrs. Hale shook her head. + +"No one I know, my dear," she said. "None of the gentry hereabouts +would fight with any one, least of all a common man. A tall man, with +an ugly face----" + +"Oh, very ugly and evil-looking--I think they called him Pyke." + +"Pyke--Jem Pyke!" said Mrs. Hale. "Oh, I know him; a dreadful bad +character, my dear. I'm not surprised at his kicking a dog, or fighting +either. He's one of our worst men--a poacher and a thief, so they say. +I wonder he didn't get the best of it!" + +"He got the very possible worst of it," said Margaret, with an +unconscious tone of satisfaction. "There's the picture, grandma! And +where will you hang it?" + +It was a clever little picture; a bit of a London street, faithfully +and carefully painted, and instinct with grace and feeling. + +The old lady of course did not see all the good points, but she was +none the less proud and delighted, and stood regarding it with admiring +awe that rendered her speechless. + +"You dear, clever girl," she said, kissing her, "and it is for me, +really for me? Oh, Margaret, if your poor father----" + +Margaret sighed. + +"Get me a hammer and a nail, grandma," she said, after a moment, "and +I'll put it in a good light; the light is everything, you know." + +A hammer and nail were brought, and the picture hung, and the two +went out into the garden, and presently the girl was singing like a +nightingale from her over-brimming heart. But suddenly she stopped and +looked in at the window of the room where the old lady had returned to +see the unpacking and uncreasing of the clothes which had traveled in +the unpretending Gladstone bag. + +"Oh, grandma, I beg your pardon! I forgot! Perhaps the earl won't like +my singing?" + +Mrs. Hale laughed. + +"The earl! My dear, he is right at the other end of the building and +could scarcely hear a brass band from here! But come in now, Margaret, +and have some supper. You must go to bed early after your long journey, +or you won't sow the seed for those roses I want to see in your cheeks!" + +When she woke in the morning with the scent of the honeysuckle wafting +across her face, Margaret could almost have persuaded herself that +Leyton Court was a vision of a dream, and that she should find herself +presently on her way to the art school at Kensington amidst all the +London noise and smoke. To most Londoners the country in June is a +dream of Paradise; what must it have been to this young girl, with the +soul of an artist, with every nerve throbbing in sympathy with the sky, +the flowers, the songs of the birds? + +Like a vision herself, her plainly made morning dress of a soft, dove +color and fitting her slim young shape with the grace of a well-made +garment that can afford to be plain, she ran down the oak stairs into +the parlor. But Mrs. Hale was not there, and Mary, who glanced with shy +admiration at the lovely face and pretty dress, said that she had gone +to see the butler. + +"You will find her in the pantry, miss, if you like. It is at the end +of this passage, to the right. You can't miss it, miss." + +But Margaret did miss it, for her idea of a pantry was a small place in +the nature of a cupboard, whereas the pantry at the Court was a large +and spacious room, and Margaret, seeing nothing to answer to her idea, +opened a door, entered, found herself before another door, opened that, +discovered that she was in a round kind of a lobby surrounded, like +Blue Beard's chamber, with other doors, and all at once learned that +she had lost herself. + +It was a ridiculous position to be placed in, and an annoying one, for +she felt that her grandmother would be vexed by Margaret's venturing +out of their own apartments. + +But she did not know what to do; it was impossible, having turned +round in the circular lobby and lost count of the door, to regain it +again, and in a semi-comic despair, she opened the door opposite her, +intending to walk on until she met a servant of whom she could ask her +way back to Mrs. Hale's wing. + +She found herself presently and quite suddenly in a short corridor, at +the end of which a stream of varicolored light poured from a stained +window; there was the reflection also of gilt carving and velvet +hangings, and rather awed, Margaret was for turning back, when she +saw a footman pass with noiseless footsteps across the thick Oriental +carpet at the end of the corridor. + +She called to him, and hurried after him, but before she could reach +him he had disappeared as if by magic, evidently without hearing her +suppressed voice, and she found herself standing at the entrance to a +magnificent picture gallery, which seemed to run an interminable length +and lose itself in a distant vista of ferns and statuary. + +Margaret literally held her breath as she peered in through the velvet +curtains. + +There, line upon line, hung what was no doubt one of the collections of +the kingdom--and she within the threshold of it. + +Her mouth, metaphorically, began to water; her large dark eyes grew +humid with wistfulness. + +What cream is to a cat, water to a duck, _pate de foie gras_ to a +gourmet, an Elziver to a bookworm, that is a picture gallery to an +artist. + +She could resist the temptation no longer. The place was crowned, as it +were, with silence and solitude: no one would see her or know that she +had been there, and she would only stay five--ten minutes. + +Eve could not resist temptation--being doubtless fond of apples; +Margaret could not resist, being fond of pictures. And yet, if she had +known what was to follow upon this visit to Leyton Court, if there had +only been some kind guardian angel to whisper: + +"Fly, Margaret, my child! Fly this spot, where peril and destruction +await thee!" + +But, alas! our guardian angels always seem to be taking bank holiday +just on the days when we most need them, and Margaret's angel was +silent as the tomb. + +Pushing the heavily-bullioned curtain aside she entered the gallery, +and an exclamation of surprise and delight broke from her lips. + +It was a priceless collection: Rubens, Vandyke, Titians, Raphael, +Michael Angelo, Cuyp, Jan Steen; all the masters were here, and at +their best. + +The soul of the girl went into her eyes, her face grew pale, and her +breath came in long-drawn sighs, as she moved noiselessly on the thick +Turkey carpet, which stretched itself like a glittering snake over the +marble floor before the pictures. + +What jewels were to some women, and dress to others, pictures were to +Margaret. + +She was standing rapt in an ecstasy before a head by Guido, her hands +clasped and hanging loosely in front of her, her lovely face upturned, +a picture as beautiful as the one upon which she gazed, when she +suddenly became aware, without either seeing or hearing, but with that +sense, which is indescribable and nameless, that she was not alone, but +that some one else had entered the gallery. + +The consciousness affected her strangely, and for a moment she did not +move eye or limb; then, with an effort, she turned her head and saw a +tall figure standing a few paces from the doorway. + +It was that of an old man, with white hair and dark--piercing +dark--eyes. He was clad in a velvet dressing-gown, whose folds fell +round the thin form and gave it an antique expression, which harmonized +with the magnificence and silence of the gallery. + +The eyes were bent on her, not sternly, not curiously, but with a calm, +steadfast regard, which affected her more than any expression of anger +could have done. + +She stood quite still, her heart beating wildly, for she knew, though +she had never seen him, that it must be the earl himself. + + + + +CHAPTER III. + + +Margaret stood perfectly still, her eyes downcast, yet seeing quite +plainly the tall patrician figure enveloped in the folds of violet +velvet. + +What should she do? Pass by him without a word, or murmur some kind of +apology? How upset and annoyed her grandmother would be when she heard +of her trespass, and its discovery by the earl, of all people. And the +earl himself, what was he thinking of her? He was, no doubt, setting +her down, in his mind, as an ill-bred, forward girl, who had intruded +out of sheer impudence! The idea was almost unendurable, and smarting +under it, the color came slowly into her face and her lips quivered. + +Meanwhile, the earl, who had been indifferently wondering who she was, +moved slowly, his hands behind him, along the gallery and toward her. +His movements nerved her, and bending her head she made for the door, +but slowly. The earl may have thought that she was one of the higher +servants, but as she came nearer--for she had to pass him to leave the +gallery--he must have seen that she was not one of the establishment, +which was far too numerous for him to be familiar with. + +"Do not let me drive you away," he said, in a low-toned, but +exquisitely clear and musical voice, which had so often moved his +fellow peers in the Upper House. + +"I am going," said Margaret, flushing. "I--I ought not to have come." + +She had never spoken to a nobleman in her life before, and did not know +whether to say "my lord" or "your lordship," at the end of her sentence. + +"Ought you not?" he said, with a faint smile crossing his clear-cut +features. + +"No--my lord," she faltered, venturing on that form; "I--I came here by +accident. I lost my way. I am very sorry." + +"Do not apologize," he said, bending his piercing eyes on her face, +and smiling again as he noticed her abashed expression; "it is not +a deadly sin. Are you----" he hesitated. It was evident that he did +not want to add to her distress and confusion, and was choosing his +words--"Are you staying here?" + +"Yes," said Margaret; "I am staying with Mrs. Hale, my grandmother, my +lord." + +"Ah, yes!" he murmured. "Yes. Mrs. Hale. Yes, yes. You are her +granddaughter. What is your name?" + +"Margaret--Margaret Hale," she said. + +"And how long have you been here?" he asked. + +"I came last night, my lord," said Margaret. + +"Last night? Yes. And you were on a voyage of discovery----" + +"Oh, no, no!" she broke in, quickly. "I was looking for Mrs. Hale, +and--opened the wrong door; when I came into the corridor outside I saw +the pictures, and"--her color rose--"I was tempted to come in," and, +with an inclination of the head, she was moving away. + +His voice stopped her. + +"Are you fond of pictures?" he asked, as one of his age and attainments +would ask a child. + +"Yes," said Margaret, simply, refraining even from adding, "very." + +His glance grew absent. + +"Most of your sex are," he said, musingly. "All life is but a picture +to most of them. The surface, the surface only"--he sighed very faintly +and wearily, and was pacing on, to Margaret's immense relief, as if he +had forgotten her, when he stopped, as if moved by a kindly impulse, +and said: "Pray come here when you please. The pictures will be glad of +your company; they spend a solitary life too often. Yes, come when you +please." + +"Thank you, my lord," said Margaret, quietly, and without any fuss. + +Perhaps the reserved and quiet response attracted his attention. + +"Which was the picture I saw you admiring when I came in?" he asked. +"You were admiring it, I think?" + +"It was the head by Guido, my lord," she answered. + +He looked at her quickly. + +"How did you know it was Guido's?" he asked, and he went and stood +before the picture, looking from it to her. + +Margaret stared. How could it be possible for any intelligent person +not to know! + +"It is easy to tell a Guido, my lord," she said, with a slight smile. +"One has only to see one of them once, and I have seen them in the +National Gallery fifty--a hundred times." + +He looked at her, not curiously--the Earl of Ferrers, famed for his +exquisite courtesy, could not have done that--but with a newly-born +interest. + +"Yes? Do you recognize other masters here? This, for instance," and he +raised his hand; it stood out like snow in front of the violet velvet, +and a large amethyst on the forefinger gleamed redly in the downward +light. + +"That is a Carlo Dolci, my lord; but not a very good one." + +"Right in both assertions," he said, with a smile. "And this?" + +"A Rubens, and a very fine one," she said, forgetting his presence +and grandeur, and approaching the picture. "I have never seen more +beautiful coloring in a Rubens--but I have not seen the Continental +galleries. It would look better still if it were not hung so near that +De la Roche; the two clash. Now, if the other Rubens on the opposite +side were placed----" but she remembered herself, and stopped suddenly, +confused and shamefaced. + +"Pray go on," he said gently. "You would hang them side by side. Yes. +You are right! Tell me who painted this!" and he inclined his head +toward a heavy battle piece. + +"I do not know, my lord," said Margaret. + +He smiled. + +"It is a pleasant discovery to find that your knowledge is not +illimitable," he said. "It is a Wouvermans." + +Margaret looked at it, and her brows came together, after a fashion +peculiar to her when she was thinking deeply, displeased, or silent +under pressure. + +"Well?" he said, as if he had read her thoughts; "what would you say?" + +"It is not a Wouvermans, my lord," she said. + +The earl smiled, and stood with folded hands regarding her. + +"No, my lord. That is, I think not. It is not even a copy, but an +imitation--oh, forgive me!" she broke off, blushing. + +"No, no!" he said, gently; "there is nothing to forgive. Tell me why +you think so? But I warn you--" and he smiled with mock gravity--"this +picture cost several thousand pounds!" + +"I can't help it," said Margaret, desperate on behalf of truth. "It is +not a Wouvermans! He never painted a horse like that--never! I have +copied dozens of his pictures. I should know a horse of his if I met +it in the streets, my lord," and her eyebrows came together again in +almost piteous assertion. + +He looked at the picture keenly; then, with a slight air of surprise, +he said: + +"I think you are right! But it is a clever forgery----" + +"Oh, clever!" said Margaret, with light scorn. + +"Are you an artist?" he asked, after a second's pause. + +"Yes, my lord," she said, modestly. + +"Yes! Ah, I understand your inability to keep outside the gallery. An +artist"--his piercing eyes rested on her downcast face--"my pictures +are honored by your attention, Miss Hale. Permit me to repeat my +invitation. I hope you will pay the gallery many visits. If you should +care to copy any of the pictures, pray do so!" + +"Oh, my lord!" said Margaret, and her face lit up as if a ray of +sunlight had passed across it. + +There was no ill-bred admiration in his gray eyes, only a deep and +steady regard. + +"Copy any you choose," he said. "As to the De la Roche----" + +He paused, for a hurried footstep was heard behind them, and Mrs. +Hale's voice anxiously calling "Margaret." + +At sight of the earl she stopped short, turned pale, and dropped a +profound curtsey. + +"Oh, my lord! I--we--beg your pardon! My granddaughter lost her +way----" then she seemed unable to go any further. + +The earl turned to her with the calm, impassive manner he had worn when +Margaret had seen him first. + +"Do not apologize, Mrs. Hale," he said. "Your granddaughter is +perfectly welcome. She is an artist, I hear?" + +"Yes, my lord," faltered the old lady, as if she were confessing some +great sin of Margaret's. + +"Yes, and a capable one I am sure. She will probably like to copy some +of the pictures. Please see that she is not disturbed." + +Then, leaving the old lady overwhelmed and bewildered, he inclined his +head to Margaret and moved away. But as he raised the heavy curtain at +the end of the gallery, he turned and looked aside at her with a grave +smile. + +"The De la Roche shall be re-hung, and the false Wouvermans removed." +Then murmuring "would that it were as easy to depose every other false +pretender!" he let the curtain fall and disappeared. + +Margaret stood looking after him, her brows drawn together dreamily, +and seemed to awake with a start when, with a gasp, the old lady turned +to her, exclaiming: + +"Well, Margaret! To think that the earl--that his +lordship--that--that----When I came in and saw him with you here I +felt fit to sink into the ground! Oh, my dear, how ever did you come +here?" + +"'My wayward feet were wont to stray,'" quoted Margaret, with a laugh. + +"What do you say?" + +"Oh, it was only a line from a poem, grandmamma. I lost my way, and the +earl came in and found me----" + +"And--and spoke? And he wasn't angry? My dear, if I had been in your +place, I should have longed for the earth to open and swallow me up!" + +Margaret laughed softly. + +"Of course you mustn't pay any attention to what he said: you mustn't +take advantage of his offer about the copying of the pictures. Copy the +pictures! Good gracious! as if you'd take such a liberty!" + +Margaret opened her eyes. + +"I certainly did think of taking it," she said. + +"Oh, dear, no; it would never do!" exclaimed the old lady. "It was only +politeness on his part to make you feel at your ease, and to show that +he wasn't angry. As to his meaning it, why of course he didn't!" + +"I had an impression that great noblemen like the earl always meant +what they said; but that's only my ignorance, grandma, and, of course, +I'll do as you wish. But," with a wistful glance down the gallery, "I +had looked forward to painting some of them." + +"Well, never mind, my dear," said the old lady soothingly; "you can +come and look at them--sometimes, when the earl's out or away from the +Court. It would never do for him to find you here again." + +"No. I suppose next time he wouldn't find it incumbent upon him to be +polite. Well, let's go now, grandma," and she turned with a sigh. + +"Not that way!" exclaimed Mrs. Hale, in a horrified whisper, as +Margaret went toward a door; "that leads direct to his lordship's +private apartments." + +Margaret laughed. + +"It is quite evident that I mustn't venture out of your rooms alone +again, grandma, or I shall get into serious trouble!" + +"That you certainly will. But it's excusable, my dear; there aren't +many places so big, and such a maze like. It took even me a long time +to find my way about." + +She opened the proper door as she spoke, and nearly ran against a +portly gentleman, who was dignified looking enough to be the earl's +brother. + +"Bless my heart, Mr. Stibbings!" exclaimed Mrs. Hale. The butler puffed +out a response in a hushed voice--everybody's voice was hushed at +Leyton Court--then looked at Margaret and made a respectful bow. + +"My granddaughter, Margaret, Mr. Stibbings," said the old lady, proudly. + +The butler appeared surprised. He had taken Margaret for a visitor, and +had been wondering how on earth she had got into the place without his +knowing it? + +"In--deed, Mrs. Hale! Glad to see you, miss." + +"Yes, Mr. Stibbings; and, would you believe it, she's been in our +picture-gallery, and----" + +But Mr. Stibbings seemed too hurried and full of suppressed excitement +to attend. + +"Mrs. Hale, ma'am, you'll scarcely credit it, but----" he drew nearer +and lowered his voice to a whisper. + +"Bless my heart!" exclaimed the old lady. "Dear, dear me! What is to +be done? Will he stay, do you think? You'll let me know at once, there +will be a great deal to see to----" + +"Yes, yes," said the butler. "I'm going to find out. He has only +just been announced. I don't know yet whether the earl will see him. +Extraordinary, isn't it?" and he hurried on his way. + +"Ex--tra--ordinary!" responded the old lady, staring at Margaret. + +"What has happened, grandma?" asked Margaret, with a laugh. + +"It's no laughing matter, my dear!" said the old lady, gravely. "Lord +Blair Leyton has come." + +"Has he?" said Margaret, with less interest than the matter deserved. + +"Yes, and who knows what will happen? Perhaps the earl won't see him; +perhaps they won't meet after all." + +"I suppose they won't kill each other if they do, will they?" said +Margaret. + +The old lady looked at her aghast; such levity was terrible. + +"My dear," she said, "you don't know what you are talking about. Kill +each other--the earl and his nephew! Why, how ever could you say such a +thing? Great people never fight, let alone kill each other." + + + + +CHAPTER IV. + + +Meanwhile, Mr. Larkhall, the valet, had gone to the earl's sitting-room +and made the announcement: + +"Lord Leyton, my lord!" + +The earl raised his steel-gray eyes, and, frowning slightly, said, +"Lord Leyton?" without any expression of surprise. + +"Yes, my lord," said the valet, with the proper impassiveness of a +high-class servant. + +The earl kept his eyes on the floor for a moment, then nodded as an +indication that Lord Blair was to be shown in, and Mr. Larkhall went +out to the drawing-room, where Lord Blair was waiting. + +He was looking remarkably well this morning, and there were no traces +of his encounter with Mr. Pyke on his handsome face, which with its +prevailing suggestion of brightness and good humor, seemed to light +up the grand and rather too stately room. He was dressed in that +very comfortable and somewhat picturesque fashion, which is the mode +nowadays, and his shapely limbs displayed themselves, not without +grace, in knickerbockers and a shooting jacket of a wide check, which +made his broad shoulders look even more vast than they were. Take him +altogether he presented a very fine specimen of the genus man, at its +best period, when youth sits at the prow, and pleasure sings joyously +at the helm. + +"This way, my lord," said Mr. Larkhall, and the young man followed the +valet into the earl's room. + +As he entered, the earl rose and looked at him, and notwithstanding the +sternness of his face, a gleam of reluctant admiration shone in his +eyes. He held out the thin, white hand. + +"How do you do, Blair?" he said. + +Lord Blair shook his hand. + +"I hope you're well, sir?" he said, and the light, musical voice seemed +to ring through the room, in its contrast to the elder man's subdued +tones. + +The earl waved his hand to a chair, and sank back into his own. + +Then a silence ensued. It was evident that the earl expected the young +viscount to account for his presence, and that Lord Blair found it +rather hard to begin. + +"Not had the gout lately, I hope, sir?" he said. + +"Thanks, no; not very lately," replied the earl. + +"I'm glad of that," said Lord Blair. "I shouldn't have liked to worry +you while you were ill--and--and I ought to apologize for coming +uninvited----" + +It was palpable that he was not used to apologizing, and he did it +awkwardly and bluntly. + +The earl waved his hand. + +"You are always free to come to the Court, Blair; you know that, I +trust?" + +He did not say that he was welcome, or that he, the earl was glad to +see him. + +"Thanks," said Lord Blair. "I shouldn't have come if I hadn't been +obliged--I mean," with a smile at his clumsiness, "I mean I wanted to +see you particularly on business----" + +"Business?" said the earl, raising his eyebrows slightly. "Would not +Messrs. Tyler & Driver----" + +Tyler & Driver were the family solicitors. + +"No," said Lord Blair; "I didn't think so. The fact is, sir, that I'm +in a scrape." He said it with an air of surprise that made the earl +smile dryly. "Yes; I suppose you'll say I always am. Well, I dare say +I am. By George, I don't know how it is, either, for I'm always trying +hard to keep out of 'em." + +"Is it money--this time?" inquired the earl, with an impassiveness that +was worse than any exhibition of ill-humor. + +"Yes; it's money this time," assented Lord Blair laughing slightly, but +coloring. "The fact is----" he paused. "I don't know whether you saw +that my horse, Daylight, lost the Chinhester stakes?" + +"I don't read the racing news," said his lordship gravely. + +"Ah, I forgot. Well, it did. The fool of a jockey pulled at him too +long, and--but I'm afraid you would not understand, sir." + +"Most probably not," was the dry response. + +"Anyway, he lost, and as I'd backed him very heavily--too heavily as it +turned out--I lost a hatful of money. I've had a run of ill-luck all +the season, too," he continued, as cheerfully as if he were recounting +luck of quite another kind. "So I find myself completely up a tree. I +don't like asking you for any more money, I seem to have had such a +tremendous lot, don't you know, and it occurred to me that there was +that Ketton property, and I could raise the money on that." + +The earl's face darkened. + +"Of course I know I needn't have troubled you about it," went on Lord +Blair, "but I promised you I wouldn't raise any money without letting +you know, and so--well, here I am," he wound up cheerfully. + +The earl sat perfectly still and looked at the carpet. + +"Blair," he said, at last, "you are on the road to ruin!" + +"It's not so bad as that, sir, I hope," said the young man, after a +rather startled stare and pause. + +"You are a spendthrift and a gambler," continued the earl, his face +hardening at each word. + +Lord Blair's face flushed. + +"That's rather strong, isn't it, sir?" he said, quietly. + +"It is the truth--the plain truth," retorted the earl, quickly. +"You are twenty-five, and you have run through--flung to the winds, +destroyed--nearly all your own property. Only Ketton remains, and +that is, you tell me, to go. What do you expect me to say? Have you +no conscience, no sense of decency? But, indeed, the question is +unnecessary, you have none." + +The young man rose, and on his handsome face came a look that bore a +faint resemblance to that on the old man's. + +"What do you mean?" he asked, shortly. + +The earl raised his eyes. + +"With this ruin impending over you, you come to me to ask my sanction +of the last step, and on the way here you amuse yourself by indulging +in a vulgar ale-house brawl with one of my people, outside my +gates--within sight of the house!" + +Lord Blair sank into the chair, and smiled. + +"Oh, that," he said, easily--"oh, that was nothing, sir. The fellow +deserved all he got and more. 'Pon my word I couldn't help it. It +was--but you've heard all about it, I daresay?" + +"I have heard that you had a vulgar quarrel with one of the worst +characters in the place, and indulged in a fight with him, sir," said +the earl, his eyes flashing for a moment, then growing hard and cold. +"But I forget. You say it was nothing. That which I deem a degradation, +the future Earl of Ferrers may regard differently. But this I may be +permitted to ask: that you will choose some other locality than Leyton +for the exhibition of your brutality." + +A hot response sprung to the lips of Lord Blair, but with an effort he +choked it back. + +"We won't say any more about the affair, sir," he said, "except that if +it were to be done again, I'd do it!" + +"I don't doubt you, sir," said the earl, coldly. + +There was a pause, then the young man rose. + +"I take it I can raise the money on Ketton, then?" he said. + +The earl stared at the floor moodily. + +"Hartwell gone, Parkfield mortgaged to the hilt, and now Ketton. What +next, sir? Thank Heaven, you cannot play ducks and drakes with this +place, or you would do it, I suppose! But I could forgive you all you +have done if you had spared Violet." + +The color mounted to the young man's face, and he bit his lip. + +"In her, and her alone, lay your chance of salvation. You flung it away +as ruthlessly as you have flung away your property. You have ruined +yourself and broken her heart, and you sit there smiling----" + +As if he could endure it no longer, Lord Blair rose. + +"Broken her heart! Broken Violet's heart!" he repeated, with mingled +amazement and incredulity. "Good Heavens, who told you that? I don't +believe she has a heart to break! We--we broke off the match by mutual +agreement. She was quite jolly about it! She--oh, come, sir, you don't +know Violet as well as I do. I'll answer for it she thinks herself well +out of it; as she is, by George! Any woman would get a bad bargain in +me, I'm afraid." + +"I wish that I could contradict you," said the earl grimly. "I pity any +woman who trusts herself to your tender mercies. As for Violet Graham, +I am glad that she has escaped; but your conduct was dishonorable----" + +The young man's face paled, and his hands clinched with a passion of +which he had shown no trace during the fight of yesterday. + +"That will do, sir," he said, in a low voice. "No man, not even you, +has the right to use such a word to me! I tell you it would have +been dishonorable to have married Violet for her money; it was more +honorable to keep from it. I'm going. As to Ketton, it's my own----" + +"For the present," put in the earl, with fearful sarcasm. + +--"And I can do what I like with it. I'd rather sell it twenty times +over than marry Violet Graham, and get her money to save it! Good-bye, +sir!" He was going out of the room with this brief farewell, but at the +door he paused, and striding back held out his hand. "Look here, sir," +he said, his voice softening, a gentler light coming into his eyes. +"Don't let us part like this! Heaven knows when we shall meet again, if +ever we do! I may have to clear out of England! I've some thoughts of +going in for sheep farming out West, or I may break my neck at the next +steeplechase. Anyhow, let us part friends." + +The earl waved him to the chair. + +If he had grasped the extended hand the warm heart of the young man +would have forgiven all the hard words that had been spoken--forgiven +and forgotten them. + +"Sit down, please. You are right. Words are of no avail between us. +In regard to your proposition, I am averse to it. I will give you the +money. What is the amount?" + +Lord Blair looked surprised, then grave. + +"Thanks, sir," he said. "But I would rather you didn't. I have had too +much from you already. I'm ashamed to think how much. I'm a spendthrift +and a fool, as you say, but for the future I will spend only my own. +I'm not ungrateful for all you have given me! No, but--I can't take any +more from you." + +The earl's lips came together tightly. He bowed. + +"I have no right to combat your resolution," he said, "or to prevent +you ruining yourself in your own fashion. After all, it matters very +little whether the Jews have Ketton now or later; they will get it one +time or the other, doubtless." + +"I'm afraid they will," said Lord Blair, with a short sigh; then he +rose. "Well, I'm off, sir." + +"Stay!" said the earl; "our quarrel--if it can be called one--is over. +You will oblige me by remaining for one night at least. I do not +wish it to be said all over the country that we could not exist for +twenty-four hours under one roof, as it will be said if you go at once. +Stay, if you please." + +"If you wish it, sir, certainly," said Lord Blair, not very joyously. +"But I'm afraid I shall bore you dreadfully, you know." + +"The boring will be mutual, I have no doubt," said the earl grimly. "I +may remind you that we need meet only at dinner." + +"That's true," said Lord Blair frankly. "Well, until then, I'll walk +round the place." + +Then earl inclined his head, and rang the bell which stood at his elbow. + +"Lord Leyton will remain here to-night," he said to Larkhall, and that +exemplary servant, holding the door open for Lord Blair to pass out, +hurried off to tell Mr. Stibbings and Mrs. Hale the extraordinary news +that the future earl was to sleep at the house which would some day be +his own. + +Lord Blair had spent a remarkably bad quarter of an hour; but before he +had got half way down the broad staircase, with its carved balustrades +and magnificent cross panelling, he began to shake off the effects with +that wonderful good-humored carelessness which had lost him nearly all +his lands, and won him so many hearts. + +He went down the stairs into the hall and looked round him with a +smile, as if his interview had been of the pleasantest description; +then he lit a cigar and, with his hat on the back of his head, went out +into the warm sunshine. + +He walked along the terrace and across the lawns, and then as if by +instinct found his way to the stables. And be it remarked, and it is +worth noting, that he had not--as many a man in his position would have +done--given one glance at the magnificent place with the thought that +it would some day all be his. + +Strange to say, for an heir, he didn't wish the earl dead. Blair +Leyton hankered after no man's property, not even his uncle's; whatever +sins may have been laid to his charge, he was innocent of that love of +money which is the root of all evil. + +So without a spark of envy or covetousness or ill-will, he went to the +stables and, nodding pleasantly to the head groom, went into the stalls. + +Of course the man knew who he was--the news had spread all over the +Court in five minutes!--and was respectful, and in a second or two more +than that; for Blair's manner was as pleasant with high, low, Jack, and +the game all round. + +"Some good horses," he said. + +The man shook his head doubtfully. + +"Some, my lord," he assented. "But not what they ought to be for so big +a place--begging your lordship's pardon. You see his lordship the earl +only has the carriage horses--and them only once now and again--and +there's nobody to ride. I try to keep 'em up, but a man loses heart +like, my lord." + +"I understand," said Lord Blair, sympathetically. "It's a pity. Such a +fine hunting country." + +"Ah, isn't it, my lord!" said the man with a sigh. "If the earl 'ud +only take the hounds--but there"--and he sighed again. + +Lord Blair went up to a big black horse and smacked him, a little +attention which the animal responded to by launching out viciously. + +"Nice nag!" said Lord Blair, approvingly. + +"All but his temper, my lord," said the man. "He's as crooked-minded a +hoss as ever I see." + +Lord Blair laughed. + +"He's straight enough in other ways," he said. "Put a saddle on him and +I'll take a turn." + +The man hesitated a second. + +"He's an awkward one to ride, my lord," he ventured. + +"So I should think," said the young man, cheerfully; "but I like them +awkward." + +The horse was saddled and brought out, and immediately commenced to +verify the character bestowed upon him. + +"Ill-tempered dev--beast, I'll take him back, my lord," said the groom; +but, with a laugh, Lord Blair got into the saddle, and as the horse +reared brought him down in so neat a style that the groom's misgivings +fled. + +"All right, my lord," he said, with an approving nod. + +"Yes, it's all right," said the young man, with another laugh. "He's +rather hot just at present, but he'll come back like a lamb, and I +shall be hot, I expect," and off he rode. + +"There," said the groom to a circle of his helpers, "that's my idea +of a young nobleman! There'd be some pleasure and credit in keeping a +stable for him." + +"What a pity he's such a bad young man," murmured a maid-servant, who +had crept out to look on. + +"He may be a bad young man," retorted the groom sententiously, "but +he's a darned good rider." + +"He's dreadfully handsome," said the girl, with a little sigh, as she +ran in again, and they unconsciously expressed the general opinion of +the two sexes of Blair, Viscount Leyton. + +The announcement that the young lord was to remain the night at the +Court threw Mrs. Hale into a state of excitement. + +"I must see Mr. Stibbings about the lunch and dinner at once, and +there's the room to prepare. I shall have to leave you to yourself +to-day, my dear," she said to Margaret. "Bless me, if I'd only had +an hour or two's notice I could have got something nice for dinner. +The earl doesn't care what it is, and often sends the things away +untouched; but a young man from London, and used to the dinners they +get there at the London clubs, is very different." + +"Don't mind me, grandma," said Margaret. "I suppose I can't help you at +all?" + +"You?--Good gracious me, no!" said the old lady quite pityingly. + +"Then I'll get my hat and go into the garden," said Margaret. + +"Do, my dear; but keep this side of the house, mind, and do not go in +front of the earl's windows." + +"Very well; I'll take care," laughed Margaret. "I suppose if the +earl should happen to catch sight of me twice in one day it would be +fatal!--or would he only have a fit?" But Mrs. Hale, fortunately for +her, did not hear this. + +Margaret went out into the garden, and carefully kept out of sight of +the great windows. She was very happy, and now and again she would +break into song. The garden attached to this wing was a large one, and +filled with flowers, and when she came in to lunch she had a large +bunch of roses and heliotrope and pinks in her hand. + +"There was no notice--'Do not pick the flowers!' grandma. I hope I +haven't been very wicked?" + +"No, no, my dear," said Mrs. Hale, who was in a fine state of flurry. +"What a beautiful bouquet you have got!" + +"Isn't it?" said Margaret, pinning a red rose in the bosom of her +dress. "Where shall I put these?" and she looked round for a vase. + +"Anywhere you like, my dear. Oh, Margaret, how nice they would be in +Lord Leyton's room! It would make it seem more homely like; do what +you will, a room that hasn't been used for months does look cold and +formal." + +"Doesn't it?" agreed Margaret. "And there is nothing like flowers to +take off that effect. His lordship is welcome to them; so there they +are, grandma." + +"Yes, thank you," said Mrs. Hale, hurriedly. "I'll ring for Mary, +unless you wouldn't mind running up with them; you'll arrange them +decently, while she'll just throw them into a vase." + +"Very well. Show me the way, Mary, to Lord Leyton's room," said +Margaret as Mary entered. + +Mrs. Hale had given him one of the best rooms in the house, and +Margaret, who had never seen such an apartment, was lost in admiration +of the silken hangings which stood in place of paper on the walls, and +the old and priceless furniture. + +She arranged the flowers in a deep, glass dish, and placed it on the +spacious dressing table. + +"His lordship ought to be pleased, miss," said Mary, shyly, as they +were leaving the room. + +Margaret laughed. + +"I daresay he will think them very much in the way and throw them out +of the window. I hope he won't throw dish and all," she said. + +As she entered Mrs. Hale's sitting-room, she saw Mr. Stibbings +approaching. + +"I have been looking for you, miss," he said. "I have had a table put +in the gallery, as his lordship directed, and his compliments, would +you like any blinds put to the windows to shade the light?" + +"Grandma, he did mean it after all," said Margaret, delightedly. +"How kind? Oh, thank him, Mr. Stibbings! No, nothing more. I've got +a portable easel and everything, and the light will do very well. +Grandma, I may go now?" + +"Yes, I suppose so," said the old lady, absently; "but mind, dear, if +you hear the earl coming, you must get up and go away at once." + +"Very well," said Margaret, with a smile, and she ran up and got her +folding easel and painting materials. Mr. Stibbings wanted to place +a footman at her disposal, but she laughingly declined, and with her +impedimenta under her arm, and her paintbox in her hand, she made her +way after lunch to the gallery. + +"In the future, when I hear any one remark--'as proud as a lord,' I +shall correct them and say--'kind as a lord,'" she said to herself. +With all the eagerness of an artiste she set up her easel before the +picture and commenced at once; and in a few minutes she had become +absorbed in her work, and was lost to everything save the burning +desire to catch something of the spirit of the great original she was +copying. + +"It is almost wicked to be so great!" she murmured. "How can I do more +than libel you, you beautiful face?" + +The afternoon glided on unnoticed by her. She heard a great bell +booming overhead in a solemn fashion, but she gave it no attention +beyond the thought, "the dinner or dressing bell," and went on with her +copy. + +She was so absorbed that she did not hear some one who had entered the +gallery, and it was not until the some one stood close beside her that +she knew of his presence. + +With a start she looked up, and for a moment saw nothing but a handsome +young man in evening dress. + +His beauty--of the manliest type--gave her a pleasant sensation--she +was an artist, remember--but the next moment she recognized him. + +It was the young man whom she had called a savage; the gentleman who +had fought Jem Pyke. Her eyes grew wide and her lips opened, and she +sat and stared at him. + +As for him, his astonishment equalled and surpassed hers. He had seen +her back as he was passing the door of the gallery, and being unable +to resist the temptation to ascertain what the face belonging to so +graceful a figure was like, he had entered and softly approached her. + +Margaret was a beautiful girl, but she was never lovelier than when +under the spell which falls upon an artist absorbed in her work. + +The clear, oval face grew dreamy, the large eyes softer and mystical, +the red lips sweeter with a suggestful tenderness. + +It was the loveliness of the face as well as the recognition of it +which struck him--Blair Leyton, of all men--dumb and motionless. + +They looked into each other's eyes while one could count fifty, then, +with an embarrassment quite novel, he spoke. + +"I've disturbed you?" + +"No," said Margaret, and the word sounded blunt and cold in his ears. +Who could he be, and how did he come here? Yesterday, fighting on the +village green, this evening at Leyton Court. Then it flashed upon her: +it was Lord Leyton! "No, I didn't hear you," she added. + +"I came in quietly so as not to disturb you," he said, regaining +some of his usual composure, but not all of it, for her loveliness +dazzled, and her identity with the girl who had so sternly rebuked him +yesterday, bewildered him. + +"You--you are an artist?" he said. + +"I have that honor," she said. + +He looked at the copy. + +"And a very good one! Your picture is better than the old one." + +"You are _not_ an artist, evidently," she said with a smile. + +"No," he admitted; then a light shone in his eyes. "Oh, no, I am a +savage!" + +A burning blush covered her face, and she took up her brush. + +Mr. Stibbings appeared between the velvet curtains. + +"Dinner served, my lord." + +Lord Blair Leyton nodded impatiently without turning. + +"Are you staying here?" he said. + +"Yes," said Margaret, going on with her painting. + +He stood looking at her, at the beautiful, intelligent "artist" face, +at the dove-colored dress, at the pink-white hand with its supple, +capable fingers. + +"Are you not going to dinner, my lord?" she said, unable to bear his +silent presence any longer. + +"I beg your pardon!" he said with a little start. "I was waiting for +you." + +"For me?" she said, turning her face to him with wide-eyed surprise. + +"Yes," he said; "we will go together. You are coming, are you not?" + +"I?" she said, then she laughed; "I am Mrs. Hale's--the housekeeper's +granddaughter, Lord Leyton." + +He reddened and bit his mustache. + +"And you are not coming?" he said. "I am very sorry. I----" + +"Dinner is served, my lord," said a footman in a low voice from the +doorway. + +Lord Blair uttered an impatient exclamation, which, as it was something +remarkably like an oath, was fortunately unintelligible. + +"Have you forgiven me yet?" he said, humbly. + +"Forgiven?" said Margaret, as if she were trying to discover to what he +referred. "Forgiven?" + +"Yes! That affair of yesterday--the set-to, you know," he explained. + +"Oh!"--the monosyllable dropped like a stone from her lips--"I had +forgotten." + +"That's right," he said, quickly; "if you've forgotten you have +forgiven. I assure you----" + +"Dinner is served, my lord," said a solemn voice. + +He turned sharply. + +"Confound it all----" + +"Whether I have forgiven you is not of the least consequence, my lord," +said Margaret, "but the earl will certainly not forgive you if you keep +dinner waiting any longer," and she bent over her canvas with an air of +absorption which shut him out of her cognizance completely. + +He stood for a minute, then with an audible "Confound the dinner!" +strode off. + + + + +CHAPTER V. + + +Margaret did not raise her head from her work as Lord Blair Leyton +moved reluctantly and impatiently down the gallery, but when the echo +of his footsteps had died away she looked up with a slightly startled +and altogether strange expression. + +To her astonishment and disgust, the hand which held her brush was +trembling. It was impossible to work any longer. Guido's head danced +before her sight, and the other head--the handsome one of Blair +Leyton--came between her and the painted one. + +How very far from guessing she had been that this, the young man she +had called a savage, was the earl's nephew, Lord Blair Leyton! + +What must he think of her? And yet he had taken her for a guest of the +house, had asked her if she were not going in to dinner with him! + +She sat, paint brush in hand, and stared musingly at the curtained +doorway through which he had gone, and thought of him. + +It is a dangerous thing for a young, impressionable girl to think of +a young man. But how could she help it? Her grandmother's words were +ringing in her ears; according to Mrs. Hale, nothing was too bad to +be said of poor Blair Leyton. He was the wickedest of the wicked, bad +beyond all description. And yet--and yet! How bravely he had fought a +stronger and bigger man than himself on behalf of a helpless dog! + +She pondered over this question for half an hour, looking dreamily in +the direction he had gone, then, without having arrived at any answer +to it, she jumped up and, putting her painting materials together, left +the gallery. + +"Grandma," she said, as she entered the room in which the old lady was +seated, placidly knitting, for the dinner was in full swing, and Mrs. +Hale's anxiety was over, "grandma, I have seen Lord Leyton." + +The old lady almost jumped. + +"Seen Lord Leyton, Madge?" + +Margaret nodded. + +"Yes; he came into the gallery----" + +The old lady broke in with a groan. + +"Margaret, no good will come of your going to the picture gallery! Mark +my words! It isn't--isn't proper and right like! And you've seen him. +Did he speak to you?" + +"Very much," said Margaret, smiling, but pensively. "He asked me if I +weren't going in to dinner with him!" + +"You don't say so!" exclaimed Mrs. Hale, lifting her hands. "Took you +for a lady! Dear, now!" + +"Yes; isn't it strange?" said Margaret, with great irony. + +"Well--I don't know that," said the old lady, eying the graceful figure +and lovely, refined face. "But, Margaret----" + +"Well, grandma?" said Margaret, as the old lady hesitated. + +"Well, I was going to say that--that--you must be careful!" + +"Careful? What of?" said Margaret smiling. "Does Lord Blair bite, as +well as the earl? What am I to be careful of, grandma?" + +The old lady frowned. + +"My dear, it isn't right and proper that you and Lord Blair should be +on speaking terms," she said at last. "He's the earl's nephew, and--and +you are only my granddaughter, you know." + +"Which I am quite content to be," said Margaret, busily engaged with +her paint box. "But I don't see that I have done anything very wicked, +grandma. I couldn't very well refuse to answer him when he spoke." + +"No, no, certainly not," said the old lady; "but if he speaks +again--but there, it isn't likely you'll see him again. He is only +going to stop the night, and you're not likely to meet him again, +that's one comfort." + +"It is indeed," said Margaret, with a laugh. "Especially as he is the +gentleman whom I saw fighting in the village, and whom I called a +savage." + +"You--you called him a savage!" gasped Mrs. Hale. "My dear Margaret, is +it possible?" + +"It is only too possible and certain," said Margaret lightly, "and his +lordship remembered it, too. However, as he asked me to forgive him, I +suppose he has forgiven _me_; and if he has not I don't care. He was +like a savage, and I spoke the truth." Then after a pause, during +which the old lady stared in a rapt kind of fashion--"Grandma, what a +pity it is that so wicked a man should be so good-looking." + +"Yes, he is handsome enough," sighed the old lady, shaking her head. + +"Oh, handsome, yes! I didn't mean that exactly. I meant really _good_ +looking. He looks so frank and--yes!--gentle, and his eyes seem to +shine with kindness and--and--boyishness. Nobody would believe that he +was a bad young man." + +"They'd soon learn the truth when they knew him," said the old lady, +rather shrewdly. + +"I dare say. What a good thing it would be if all the good men were +handsome, and all the bad ugly. You would tell at a glance, then, how +the case lay. As it is, the man who looks like a villain may be as good +as a saint, while the other who looks like a hero and an angel, is +probably as bad as--as----" + +"Lord Blair," broke in the old lady. + +"Exactly--as Lord Blair," laughed Margaret. "And now I am going out +to hear the nightingales, grandma. We haven't any nightingales in +London--not of your sort, I mean. Ours haven't nice voices at all, and +they mostly sing 'We won't go home till morning,' or 'He's a jolly good +fellow,' and their voices sound rather unsteady as they go along the +pavement. Those are the London kind of nightingale! Oh, what a lovely +night----" + +"Put a shawl on, Madge!" called the old lady. "Come back now; I can't +have you catching cold the very first night!" + +"Shawl? I haven't such a thing!" laughed Margaret. "This will do, won't +it?" and catching up an antimacassar she threw it round her shoulders +and ran out. + +Dinner at Leyton Court was a stately function. Very often the earl, as +Mrs. Hale had said, would make his meal of a morsel of fish or a tiny +slice of mutton, but all the same an elaborate _menu_ was prepared, and +the courses were served with due state and ceremony by the butler and +two footmen. + +This night, in honor of Lord Blair, the dinner was more elaborate than +usual; Mr. Stibbings had selected his choicest claret, and a bottle of +'73 Pommery, and had himself superintended its icing. Already, although +he had only been in the house a few hours, the young man had won the +hearts of the servants! + +But notwithstanding the choice character of the wines and the elaborate +_menu_, Lord Blair seemed rather absent-minded and preoccupied. The +earl was silent, almost grimly so, but the young man seemed not grim +by any means, but dreamy. The fact was that the face of the young girl +who had called him a savage yesterday, and whom he had seen again in +the gallery this evening, was haunting him. + +And--he wondered when and how he could see her again. + +Of course he knew, as well as did Mrs. Hale, that there should be no +acquaintanceship between Viscount Leyton and the granddaughter of his +uncle's housekeeper, but he did not think of that, and, if he had, the +reflection would not have stifled the desire to find her out and get a +few more words from those sweet lips, one more smile or glance from the +lovely eyes. + +So that, what with Lord Blair being Margaret-haunted, and the earl +being possessed by the fact of his nephew's wickedness, the grand +dinner was anything but hilarious. + +They talked now and again, but long before the dessert appeared they +had dropped into a mutual silence. Then Mr. Stibbings carried in, +daintily and carefully, a bottle of the famous Leyton port, and, with +the air of one bestowing a farewell benediction, glided out and left +the two gentlemen alone. + +"Do you drink port, Blair?" said the earl, with his hand on the +decanter. + +"Yes, sir; I drink anything," replied the young man, awaking with a +little start. + +"You have a good digestion--good constitution?" said the earl. + +"Oh, yes," assented Lord Blair, cheerfully; "I suppose so. Never had a +day's illness in my life that I can remember, and can eat anything." + +The earl looked at him musingly. + +"And yet----" he paused, "your habits are not regular; you keep late +hours?" + +Lord Blair laughed. + +"I'm seldom in bed before ten," he said. "Yes," he added, "I'm afraid I +don't keep very good hours; it's generally daylight before I am in my +little cot. What capital port, sir!" + +"Yes? I do not drink it," said the earl. + +There was silence for a moment, during which the elder man looked at +the handsome face and graceful, stalwart figure of the younger one. +Lord Blair was one of those men who look at their best in evening +dress, and the earl could not help admiring him. Then he sighed. + +"Have you thought over the words that passed between us this afternoon, +Blair?" he asked. + +"Well--I'm afraid I haven't," he admitted, frankly. + +The earl frowned. + +"And yet they were important ones--especially those which referred +to your future, Blair. We have not seen much of each other--perhaps +wisely----" + +"I dare say," said Lord Blair, cheerfully. "People who can't agree are +better apart, sir." + +"But," continued the earl grimly, and not relishing the interruption, +"but I would wish you to believe that I have your best interests at +heart." + +"Thank you, sir. I will take another glass of port." + +"And in no surer way can these interests be promoted than by your +marriage with Violet Graham." + +Lord Blair frowned slightly, then he smiled. + +"'Pon my word, sir, I'm sorry to refuse you anything, especially after +all your liberality; but it isn't to be done." + +"Why not?" demanded the earl coldly. + +Lord Blair hesitated, then he laughed grimly. + +"Well, I suppose we can't hit it off; we don't care for each other." + +The earl frowned. + +"I have every reason to believe that Violet would be willing----" + +"Oh, it's all a mistake, sir!" broke in Lord Blair quickly. "Nothing +of the kind! Violet doesn't care a straw for me! And as to breaking +her heart, as you said this afternoon, why"--he laughed--"she's the +last girl in the world for that sort of thing! No, we thought we could +manage it, but we found pretty soon that it wouldn't work, and so--and +so--well, we just broke it off!" + +"I can understand!" said the earl, grimly. "You wearied her with your +dissipation, and stung her by your neglect." + +Lord Blair flushed. + +"Put it so, if you like, sir," he said, thinking what a good thing it +was that they did _not_ see much of each other. + +"And so lost the chance of restoring your ruined fortunes," said the +earl. "Violet's fortune is a large one. I am one of the trustees, and +can speak with authority. It is large enough to repair all the mischief +your wild, spendthrift course has produced. And you have lost, not only +the means of your salvation, but one of the best girls in England. +Great Heaven"--he spoke quite quietly--"how can a man be so great a +fool, and so blind!" + +At another time the young man might have retorted, but he had had a +good dinner and two glasses of the wonderful port, and so he only +laughed. + +"I suppose I am a fool, sir," he said good-temperedly. "Perhaps it's +part of my constitution. But don't let us quarrel. It isn't worth +while." + +"You are right. It isn't worth while," said the earl, sinking back in +his chair. "After all, I ought to be thankful that Violet has escaped; +but blood is thicker than--water and I have thought of you more than of +her. But let it pass. You are bent on following the road you have set +out upon, and not even she nor I can stay you. As to Ketton, you refuse +to accept my offer----" + +"Yes, sir," said Lord Blair, gently but firmly. "I shall mortgage +Ketton. I can't take any more money from you. If we were--well, better +friends, it would be different, but----It's a pity you can't touch this +port! The best wine I ever tasted!" + +The earl sat in silence for a few minutes, then he rose. + +"Coffee will be served in the drawing-room," he said. "You will excuse +me?" + +"Oh, certainly," said Lord Blair, jumping up. "I don't care about the +coffee, I will go and get a cigar on the terrace. Perhaps I sha'n't see +you again, sir, I start early in the morning. If I should not, I'll say +good-bye," and he held out his hand. + +The earl touched it with his thin white fingers. + +"Good-bye," he said, and with a sigh he passed down the corridor to his +own apartments. + +Lord Blair took out his cigar-case and stepped through the open window +on to the terrace. + +"Yes, I'm on the road to ruin, as mine uncle says," he mused, "and +going along at a rattling good pace, too! Sha'n't be long before I +reach the terminus, I expect. Hartwell gone, Parkfield gone, and now +Ketton. I'm sorry about Ketton! But I'd rather pawn everything that's +left than take any more money from him! Heigho! I wonder whether any +of the fellows who are so thick now will cut me when I can't come up +on settling day and my name's on the black list! And I could put it +all right by marrying Violet Graham. Just by marrying Violet. But I +can't do that. I suppose I _am_ a fool, as the old gentleman politely +remarked. It's wonderful that I'm the only man he is ever rude to. +They say he is the pink of courtesy and politeness to the rest of the +world. 'Courtly Ferrers,' they used to call him. Ah, well, what does it +matter? All the same in a hundred years. I've had my fling, or nearly +had it, and after me----" + +Before he could conclude with "the deluge," a girl's voice rose softly +and sweetly in the distance, and seemed to float in and harmonize with +the rather melancholy strain of his musings; and yet the voice was +blithe and joyous enough, too. + +Lord Blair leaned over the stone rail of the balustrade and listened. + +A spell fell upon the wild young man, and for a few minutes a strange +feeling--was it of remorse for his wasted life?--possessed him. Then +there rose the desire to see the singer, and as such desires were far +stronger in Lord Blair's breast than remorse, he moved quickly along +the terrace in the direction of the voice. + +It did not occur to him that it might be Margaret Hale, and he +experienced a sudden thrill of gratification as he saw the dove-colored +dress shining, a soft patch of light against the shrubbery of the small +garden. + +At the same moment Margaret saw his shadow cast upon the smooth lawn, +and the song died on her lips. + +He stopped short, and stood on top of the steps leading to the little +garden, looking down at her. + +"May I come?" he said quietly. + +Margaret inclined her head gravely and rose. It was quite unnecessary +to tell the Viscount Leyton that he was at liberty to step into a part +of the garden that would belong to him some day. + +"I'm awfully unlucky, Miss Hale," he said, flinging his cigar away and +coming up to the seat where she had been sitting. "This is the second +time to-day I have disturbed you; and yesterday--oh, yesterday won't +bear thinking of! You were singing, weren't you?" + +"Yes, my lord," said Margaret gravely, for her grandmother's words had +suddenly occurred to her, and she moved away. + +"Are you going?" he said. "Now, I have driven you away! Please, don't +go. I'll take myself off at once." + +"I was going, my lord," said Margaret. + +"Oh, come," he retorted pleadingly; "it's almost as wicked to tell +stories as it is to fight; and you know you were sitting here +comfortably enough until I intruded upon you." + +His voice, his manner were irresistible, and produced a smile on +Margaret's face. + +"It is getting late," she said, "and Mrs. Hale may want me." + +"I don't think she will. It isn't late--" he looked at his watch--"I +can't see. Your eyes are better than mine, I'll be bound. I've spoilt +them sitting up studying at night. Will you look? But upon this +condition," he added, covering the face of the watch with his hand, +"that if it isn't ten o'clock, you will stay a little while longer; of +course I'll go--if you want me to!" + +His eagerness was so palpable, almost so boyish, that Margaret could +not repress a soft laugh. Rather gingerly she came back a step, and he +held out his watch. + +"It is half-past nine," she said. + +"There you are, you see; it isn't late at all! Now you stop out till +ten, and I'll take myself off"--and with a nod he walked toward the +steps, with Margaret's antimacassar shawl in his hand. + +"My lord!" she said, in a tone of annoyance, for it seemed as if he had +done it on purpose. + +"Yes," he responded, turning back very promptly. + +"Will you give me my anti--my shawl, please?" + +"Eh? Oh, of course, I beg your pardon," he said, "I took it up +intending to ask you to put it on--nights are chilly sometimes. Here +you are. Let me put it on for you." + +"No, no, thank you," said Margaret, taking it from him. + +"Well, it is warm," he said, looking up at the sky, and then quickly +returning his gaze to her face. "It's a pity you can't paint this; but +you artists get rather handicapped on these night scenes, don't you? +Want a big moon and a waterfall, and all that kind of thing?" + +Margaret smiled. Certainly, in matters pertaining to art he was a +perfect savage. + +"To-night could be painted, my lord," she said, just stopping to say +it, then moving away again. + +"You think so?" he said, displaying, with boyish ingenuousness, his +desire to engage her in conversation. "Well, I don't know much about +it; rather out of my line, you know. But I like seeing pictures, and I +think you must be awfully clever----" + +"Thanks, my lord!" said Margaret, with admirable gravity. "But your +avowed ignorance rather detracts on the value of your expressed +approval, does it not?" + +He looked at her. + +"That's rather hot and peppery, isn't it?" he said, ruefully. "Look +here, you know, if I'm not up in painting, I know a little of other +things. There are three things you might put me through a regular exam. +in, and I shouldn't come out badly." + +"For instance, my lord?" said Margaret, dangerously interested, and +slowly stopping. + +"For instance. Well, I know a horse when I see it." + +"Very few people take it for a cow," retorted Margaret. + +He laughed. + +"Oh, _you_ know what I mean. Many flats take a screw for a horse, +though. Well, I know what a horse is worth pretty well, and I know a +good dog when I see him, and I can tell you the proper kind of fly for +most of the rivers in England and Scotland; and I know the quickest +and surest way of stalking a stag; and--I can play a decent hand at +ecarte--that is, if it's not _too_ late in the evening; and--and----" +he paused and looked rather at a loss. + +"Is that all, my lord?" + +"That's--that's all. It seemed rather a long lot, too, while I was +running it over," he responded. + +"And what use is your knowledge to you, my lord, unless you intend +turning horse-dealer or gamekeeper?--but perhaps you do." + +He laughed. + +"By George, you're hard upon me! Won't you sit down?" Insensibly, +Margaret sank into the seat, and he dropped carelessly on to the arm. +"Well, I might do worse!" + +"Much worse!" assented Margaret, severely. + +He looked at her rather curiously. + +"How strangely you said that," he remarked. "Meant for me from the +shoulder, I expect; now wasn't it?" + +Margaret was silent. She _had_ meant it as a rebuke, but she would not +have admitted it for the world. + +He regarded her silently for a second, then he said: + +"Miss Hale, they have been telling you something about me. They have, +haven't they?" + +A faint flush rose to her face. + +"Would that matter in the slightest, my lord?" + +"By George, yes!" he said. "Look here! there is an old proverb that +says: 'Don't believe more than half you see, and less than half you +hear.' I should like to know what they have been telling you about me!" + +"What should 'they' say, my lord?" said Margaret. "Except that you are +a very high-principled and serious-minded gentleman, doing all the good +you could find to do, and setting a high example to your friends and +companions?" + +He leaned forward so that he might see her face, then broke into the +musical and contagious laugh. + +"It's too bad!" he said. "Miss Hale, I give you my word that the dev--, +that nobody is quite as bad as he is painted----" + +"It is to be hoped not, or, judging from the portraits one sees at the +Academy, there must be a great many ugly people in the world," she +said, quietly. + +Lord Blair stared at her with unconcealed delight. + +Pretty women he had met by the hundred, but a girl who was lovely as a +flower, and witty as well, was a rarity that set his heart throbbing. + +"All right!" he said. "I see you have made up your mind about me, +and that you won't let me say a word in my own defense. But every +poor beggar of a convict is allowed to say something before they pass +sentence, don't you know, and you'll let me say my word before you +send me away, painted black right through. Miss Hale, I'm in one of +my unlucky months! Everything I've touched this June has gone wrong! +My horse--but I don't want to trouble you about that--and to put the +finishing touch to the catalogue, I had the bad luck to have you +looking on while I'm having a set-to with a country yokel. Of course, +you think the worst of me, and yet----" He stopped. "Well, I'm bad +enough, I dare say," he said, with a sort of groan; "but I haven't had +much chance; I haven't, indeed. They don't make many saints out of the +kind of life that has fallen to me. What can you expect of a fellow +who is thrown upon the world at nineteen without a friend to keep him +straight or say a word of warning? And that was just the way of it with +me; my father died when I was nineteen and I was let loose with plenty +of money, and not a soul to show me the right road." + +"Your mother?" said Margaret, and the next instant regretted it, for +across his handsome face came a spasm, as if she had touched a wound +across his heart. + +"My mother died two years before my father; her death killed him. I +wish that it had killed me. Don't let's speak of her." + +"I am very sorry, my lord," murmured Margaret. + +"All right," he said cheerfully. "If she had been living--but then! +Well, I had no one. My uncle--the earl, here--would have nothing to +say to me; I reminded him too much that he had lost his own boy and +that I must come into the property. As if I wouldn't rather have died +instead of the lad! He was as nice a boy as ever you saw--poor little +chap! Well, where was I? Oh, on the road to ruin as my uncle said +this afternoon, and, by George, he was right!" and he laughed. "But +there--once you make the first false step, the rest is easy; it's all +down hill, you see, and nobody to put the skid on--nobody! But never +mind any more about me; I can see you've passed sentence. Are you +living here altogether, Miss Hale?" + +"No," said Margaret with a little start, and very quietly. She was +thinking of the wasted life, the friendless, guardless youth which his +wild, incoherent statement revealed, and something like pity for him +was creeping into her heart. + +Pity! It is a dangerous sentiment for one like Margaret to harbor for +one like Blair Leyton! + +"No; I am here on a visit, my lord." + +"How jolly!" he said. "I hope you are enjoying yourself. But, perhaps +you always live in the country?" + +"I am enjoying myself very much. No, I live in London, my lord." + +"In London!" he said, quickly. "But I say----" he broke off +appealingly, "I wish you wouldn't 'my lord' me, you know." + +Margaret laughed. + +"My circle of acquaintances does not include any noblemen, Lord Leyton, +and I am not quite sure of the way to address one of your rank," she +said, faltering a little. + +"How well she said that!" he thought. "Most girls would have giggled +and blushed, but she took it as quietly as a duchess would have done!" + +Then aloud he said: + +"Well, it's usual to address us by our surname; I wish you would call +me Leyton." + +Margaret was silent a moment, while he scanned her face with suppressed +eagerness. + +"If it is quite usual," she said in her blissful ignorance. "It sounds +rather abrupt." + +"Why, of course!" he said. "Abrupt, not a bit. And you live in London! +Now, shall I guess what part? Let me see. You are an artist. Yes. Well, +Chelsea----" + +"Wrong; but Kensington is not so far away," she said, with a smile. + +"Kensington," he said. "The Art School, of course. How jolly! I've got +rooms not very far from there. Perhaps we shall--" he hesitated and +watched her rather fearfully--"we might meet, you know." + +"I should say that there was nothing more improbable, my--Lord Leyton. +We don't know the same people, and never shall, and----" she stopped, +her own words had recalled Mrs. Hale's warning. "I must go now," she +said, rising suddenly. + +"Oh, it's not ten," he pleaded. "You feel chilly? Let me put your shawl +on. It has slipped down. Why, what a funny shawl it is!" + +"It's an antimacassar," she said laughing. + +"So it is!" he said. "And look here, it has got entangled in my +watch-chain; but they are built to get entangled in things, aren't +they?" he added, fumbling with all a man's awkwardness at the tangled +threads. + +"Oh, you'll never get it off like that," said Margaret impatiently, and +innocently enough her small supple fingers flew at it. + +His own hand and hers touched, and with a feeling of surprise he felt +the blood tingling at her touch. He looked at the lovely face so close +to his own, so gravely, unconsciously beautiful, and a wild desire +to lift the hand to his lips seized him, but with a mighty effort he +forced it down. + +"There it is!" he said. "And now to reward me for--not getting it +undone, will you let me give you this flower?" and he stooped and +picked a red rose. + +Margaret started slightly and looked at him; but the handsome face wore +its frankest, "goodest" look, and with a laugh she held out her hand. +He drew it back with an answering laugh. + +"Before I give it to you, will you tell me one thing, Miss Hale?" + +"That depends," she said, "upon what the thing is." + +"It's not much," he said. "Only this: will you tell me that you don't +think I am quite the savage you accused me of being yesterday?" + +She looked up at him with a faint color in her face. + +"Yes, I will do that," she said. "But I think you should keep the rose, +Lord Leyton." + +"No," he said, laughingly, but with an intent look in his eyes, fixed +upon her. "No, I've got a fancy for leaving something behind me that +you may remember me by. I'm going to-morrow, you know." + +"I did not know," said Margaret. + +"Yes," with a sigh. "My welcome to the Court is soon outworn, and I'm +back to London and the old road," with a laugh. + +Margaret stood with averted face. + +"Is--is it so inevitable, that same road? Is there no other, my lord?" +she said. + +"No, I'm afraid not, my lady," he said, smiling, but rather gravely. + +"I think there must be, that there might be if you cared to take it," +she said, gravely. + +"If you cared that I should take it--I mean"--he broke off quickly, +for she had looked alarmed at his words and their tone--"I mean that +it's very good of you to care what becomes of a useless fellow like me, +and----" + +"Margaret!" called Mrs. Hale's voice from the open window. + +Margaret started. + +"Good-night, my lord," she said, hurriedly, and yet with simple dignity. + +"Stop," he said, in a low voice; "you have forgotten your rose," and, +following her a step or two, he touched her arm. "It is not a very +grand one; there was a bowl of beauties in my room: some good soul had +pick--" he stopped, for the color rose to Margaret's face. "_You_ put +them there!" he exclaimed, his eyes lighting up. "_You_!" + +"I--I did not know----" she said, faltering, and trying to speak +proudly. + +"Oh, don't destroy my pleasure by explaining that you did not mean them +for me!" he pleaded. "You put them there at any rate. Will you let me, +in return, fix this rose in your shawl? We shall be more than quits +then on my side!" + +Oh, Margaret, put back the proffered flower! Red stands in the language +of magic for all that is evil, for a passion that will burn into ashes +of pain; put back the hand that offers it to you! + +But he was too quick. Gently, reverently he fixed the rose in the +meshes of the antimacassar, and, as he put it straight with a caressing +touch, he murmured: + +"Good-night! Try and remember me, Miss--Margaret, at any rate as long +as the rose lives!" + +Red as the flower itself, trembling with a feeling that was painfully +like the stab of conscience, Margaret glanced up at him, and without a +word, sped from his side. + +Lord Leyton stood looking after her, as strange an expression in his +face as her own had worn. + +Then with a long sigh he went back to the seat and threw himself down +into it, in the place where she had sat. + +Half an hour passed; the nightingale for which Margaret had been +waiting came out and sang for him; but the song gave him no delight, +for in his whirling brain its notes seemed to take the shape of words: +words of such sad, strange import! "Spare her!--spare her!" the bird +seemed to sing; and as if he could not endure the appeal any longer, he +rose impatiently and walked toward the terrace. + +As he did so, a tall, skulking figure moved snake-like after him. + +Lord Blair stopped at the bottom of the steps, and the shadow pursuing +him stopped also, and raised a heavy stick. + +For a moment it hovered evilly over Lord Blair's head, then, as if +smitten by a sudden remorse or a desire for a still deeper revenge, +Pyke let the stick fall, and, slinking back, disappeared amongst the +shrubs. + + + + +CHAPTER VI. + + +Margaret ran into the house, her heart beating fast, the color coming +and going in her cheeks. To her amazement and annoyance, she felt that +she was actually trembling! Well, if not trembling, quivering, as a +leaf quivers when the summer wind passes over its bosom. + +What was this that she had done? Notwithstanding her grandmother's +warning and her own good resolutions, she had spent--how long!--nearly +an hour talking alone with Lord Blair Leyton. And he had given her a +rose! Not only given it to her, but fastened it in the antimacassar. + +She could feel his fingers touching her still, as it seemed to her! She +looked down at the rose, gleaming like a spot of blood on the white +cotton of the antimacassar, then, with a sudden gesture, she went to +pull it out and fling it through the window; but she averted her hand +even as it touched the velvet leaves. Yes, she had done wrong; she +ought not to have spoken to him, ought not to have remained with him, +and most certainly ought not to have taken the rose from him. + +She saw now how wrong she had been. They used to call her "Wild +Margaret," "Mad Madge," when she was a child, but she had been trying +to become quiet, and dignified, and discreet, and, as it seemed to +her, had succeeded, until this wicked young man had tempted her into +flirting--was it flirting?--in the starlight. + +"You look flushed, my dear," said Mrs. Hale. "Are you tired?" + +"I think I am a little," said Margaret, longing to get to the solitude +of her own room. + +"It's the country air," said the old lady, nodding. "It always makes +people from London sleepy. Was it pleasant in the garden?" she added, +innocently. + +Margaret's face flushed. + +"Y--es, very," she replied; then she was going on to tell the old lady +of her meeting with Lord Blair, but stopped short. + +"I think I will go up to bed now," she said, and giving the old lady a +kiss, she went up-stairs to her own room. There she thought over every +word that the young lord said, and that she herself had spoken. There +had been no harm in any of it, surely! He had spoken respectfully, +almost reverentially, and even when he had given her the rose he had +done it with as much diffidence and high bred courtesy as if she had +been a countess. Surely there had been no harm in it. + +It was a lovely morning when she woke, and dressing herself she went +straight to the picture gallery. As she left the room Lord Blair's red +rose seemed to smile at her from the dressing table, and she took it up +and carried it in her hand. It was just possible that she might meet +him; if so, it would be as well to have the rose with her, for give +it back she meant to, if a chance afforded. The light in the gallery +could not have been better, and she set to work at first languidly, but +presently with more spirit, and was becoming perfectly absorbed, when +she heard a voice singing the refrain of the last popular London song. + +It was a man's voice, it could be no other than Lord Blair's, and in a +minute or two afterward she heard him enter the gallery. + +She heard him coming toward her with a quick step, and looking up with +his eyes fixed upon her with eager pleasure. He was dressed in the suit +of tweeds in which he had looked so picturesque on the morning of the +fight, and in his buttonhole he wore a white rose. It drew her eyes +toward it, and she knew it at once--it was the finest of the roses she +had placed in his room. + +"Miss Hale!" he exclaimed, holding out his hand, while his eyes beamed +with the frank, glad light of youth when it is pleased. "This is luck! +I only strolled in here by mere chance--and--and to think of my finding +you here! How early you are! And what a lot you have done!" staring +admiringly at the canvas. "I hope you didn't catch cold last night?" + +"No, my lord," said Margaret, as coldly as if her voice were frozen. + +He looked at her with a quick questioning. + +"I'm off almost directly," he said, with something like a sigh. "It's +a bore having to go back to London and leave this place a morning like +this. I had no idea it was so--so jolly, until----" he stopped; he was +going to add: "until last night." + +Margaret remained silent, dabbing on little spots of color delicately. + +"I quite envy you your stay here," he went on, looking in her grave +face, which had become somewhat pale since his arrival. "That jolly +little garden, and--and this grand gallery. I hope you will be happy, +and--and enjoy yourself." + +"Thank you my lord," coldly as before. + +He looked at her with a slightly puzzled frown. + +"Yes, I should like to stay; but I can't--for the best of all reasons, +I haven't been invited, don't you know." + +Margaret said nothing, but carefully mixed some colors on her palette. + +"And so--and so I'm off," he said, with a sudden sigh. "Perhaps we +shall meet in London, Miss Hale." + +"It is not likely," said Margaret gravely. + +"So you said last night," he responded; "but I shall live in hopes. +Yes. London's only a little place, after all, you know, and--and we +may meet. Well, I'll say good-bye!" + +"Good-bye, my lord," she said, affecting not to see his outstretched +hand. + +"Won't you shake hands?" he said with a laugh, which died away as she +took up the rose and placed it in his extended palm. + +"Will you take back this flower, my lord?" she said quietly, but with a +trembling quiver on her lips. + +"Take back?" he stammered. "Take back the rose I gave you last night!" +he went on with astonishment. "Why? what have I done to offend you?" +and he stared from the rose to her face. + +"You have done nothing to offend me, my lord," said Margaret quickly, +and with a vivid blush, which angered her beyond expression. "Nothing +whatever, but----" + +"But--well?" he said as she paused. + +"But," she went on, lifting her eyes to his bravely--"but I do not +think I ought to take a flower from you, my lord." + +"Good lord, why not?" he demanded, with not unreasonable astonishment. + +Margaret looked down. But she was no coward. + +"I will say more than that," she said in a low but steady voice. "I +ought not to have remained in the garden with you last night, Lord +Leyton. I thought so last night, I am sure of it now. And if I ought +not to have stayed talking with you, I certainly ought not to have +accepted a flower from you! I beg your pardon, and--there is your rose!" + +A look of pain crossed his handsome face. + +"You haven't told me why yet," he said, after a pause. + +Margaret bit her lip, and was silent for a second or two, then she said: + +"Lord Leyton, there should be, can be, no acquaintance between you and +me----" + +"Now stop!" he said. "I know what you are going to say; you are going +to talk some nonsense about my being a viscount and you being something +different, and all that! As if you were not a lady, and as if any one +could be better than that! Yes, they can, by George! and you _are_ +better, for you are an artist! A difference between us--yes, yes, I +should think there was, between a useless fellow like myself and a +clever, beautiful----" + +"My lord!" said Margaret, flushing, then looking at him with her brows +drawn together. + +"I beg your pardon, I beg your pardon; I do indeed! But, all the same," +he said, defiantly, "it's true! You are beautiful, but I don't rely +on that. I say an artist and a lady is the equal of any man or woman +alive, and if that's the reason you fling my flower back to me----" + +"I didn't fling it, my lord," said Margaret, gravely. + +"I'm a brute!" he said, penitently. "The difference between a brute +and--and an angel! That's it. No, you didn't fling it, but it's just as +if you had, isn't it now?" + +"You will take back the flower, Lord Leyton, please?" she almost +pleaded. "I don't want to fling it, as you say, out of the window." + +He stood looking at her. + +"How--how you must hate and despise me, by Jove!" he said. + +Margaret flushed. + +"You have no right to say that, my lord, because I see that I acted +unwisely last night. How can I hate or despise one who is a stranger to +me?" + +"Yes, that's it; I'm a stranger, and you mean to keep me one!" he said, +half bitterly, half sorrowfully. "Well, I can't complain; I'm not fit +for you to know. Why, even my own flesh and blood are anxious to see +the back of me! Yes, you are right, Miss Margaret." + +He dwelt on the name sadly, using it unconsciously. + +"Oh, no, no!" she said, wrung to the heart at the thought of wounding +him so mercilessly. "It's not that! It's not of you I thought, but of +myself." + +"Of yourself yes," he said. "Communication with me is a kind of +pollution; you cannot touch tar, you know! Oh, I understand! Well"--he +hung his head--"I'll do as you tell me; I can't do less. I'll take my +poor rose----" He stopped short, and something seemed to strike him. +"But if I do, I must return you this," and he gently unfastened the +white one from his coat, and held it out to her. + +Margaret put out her hand irresolutely. + +"Oh, take it!" he said recklessly. "It is one out of the bowl you gave +me." + +"I gave you?" she said. + +"Yes," he said; "you picked them yourself, the girl told me so. I asked +her. And you put them in my room. If I take your rose back you must +take mine." + +"Well," she said, and she took it slowly, and laid it on the table +beside her. + +He drew a long breath, then the color came into his face and the wild, +daring Ferrers' spirit shone in his eyes. + +"That's an exchange," he said. "It's a challenge and an acceptance. +Don't you see what you have done in cutting me off and flinging me +aside, Miss Margaret?" + +"What have I done?" said Margaret. + +"Yes! You have given me back my rose, but you forget that you have worn +it, that it has been in your dress, that you have touched it, that it's +like a part of yourself. And you have taken _my_ rose, which has been +in my room all night, while I dreamt of you----" + +"Lord Leyton!" she panted, half rising. + +"Yes!" he said, confronting her with the sudden passion which lay +dormant in him and always, like a tiger, ready to spring to the +surface. "You can throw my offer of friendship in my face, you can put +me coldly aside, and--and wipe out last night as if it had never been, +as if you had done some great wrong in talking to such a man as I am; +but you can't rob me of the rose you have touched, ah! and worn." + +"Give--give it me back!" she exclaimed, with a trepidation which was +not altogether anger or fear. "Give it me back, my lord. You have no +right----" + +"To keep it! Haven't I?" he retorted. "What! when you forced it back on +me! No, I will not give it you back! You may do what you like with the +white one. You will fling it on the fire, I've no doubt. I can't help +it. But this one, _yours_, I keep! It is mine. I will never part with +it. And whenever I look at it I will remember how--until you discovered +that I was not fit to associate with you, such a bad lot that you +couldn't even keep a flower I gave you!--I'll remember that you have +worn it near your heart." + +White as herself, with a passion which had carried him beyond all +bounds, he raised the red rose to his lips and kissed it, not once only +but thrice. + +Then, as he saw her face change, her lips tremble, his passion melted +away, and all penitent and remorseful, he bent toward her. + +"Forgive me!" he said, as if half bewildered; "I--I didn't know what I +was saying. I--I am a savage! Yes, that's the name for me! Forgive me, +and--good-bye!" + +He lingered on the words till they seemed to fill the room with their +music, low as they had been spoken. Then he turned. + +Margaret found her voice. + +"My lord--Lord Leyton. Stop!" + +He stopped and turned. + +"Give me back the rose, please," she said, firmly. + +"No!" he said, his eyes flashing again. "Nothing in this world would +induce me to give it to you, or to any one else. I'll keep it till I +die! I'll keep it to remind me of last night--and of you!" + +He stood for a moment looking at her steadily--if the passionate +glance could be called steady; then the thick folds of the velvet +curtain fell and hid him from her sight. + +Margaret stood for a moment motionless. + +Lord Leyton strode through the corridor into the hall. He scarcely knew +where he was going, or saw the objects before him. + +"The dog-cart is ready, my lord," said a footman. + +Mr. Stibbings stood with respectful attention beside the door. + +"Good-morning, my lord; the portmanteau is in----" he glanced at the +rose which Lord Blair still held in his hand. "If your lordship would +like to take some flowers with you, I will get some: there is time----" + +"Flowers? Flowers?" said Lord Blair, confusedly; then, with an +exclamation, he hid the rose in his breast and sprung into the cart. + +The horse bounded forward and dashed down the avenue, Lord Blair +looking straight before him like a man only half awakened. + +Suddenly, seeing and yet scarcely seeing, he noticed a tall, wiry +figure lounging against the sign-post in the center of the village +green. + +"Stop!" he said to the groom. + +He pulled up and Lord Blair beckoned to the man. + +Pyke resisted the summons for a second or two, then he slouched up to +the dog-cart with his hands in his pockets. + +"Good-morning, my man," said Lord Blair. "I hope you're none the worse +for our little set-to?" + +"_I'm_ not the worse, and I sha'n't be," retorted Pyke, lifting his +evil eyes for a moment to the handsome face then fixing them on the +last button of Lord Blair's waistcoat. + +"That's all right," said Lord Blair. "I see you've got a bruise or two +still left," and he laughed. "And I dare say I have. Well, here is some +ointment for yours," and he held out some silver. + +Pyke opened his hand, and his fingers closed over it. + +"That's all right," said Blair again, cheerfully. "We part friends, I +hope?" + +"Yes, we part friends," said Pyke, but the expression of his face would +have suited "We part enemies" equally well. + +"Well, we shall meet again, I dare say," said Blair. "Good-morning." + +"Yes, we shall meet again," said the man, and as he spoke he shot a +vindictive glance at Blair's face. "Oh, yes, my lord, we shall meet +again," he snarled as the dog-cart drove on. "And it will be my turn +then. Ointment, eh! It will be a powerful ointment as 'ud do you any +good when I've done with you!" + + + + +CHAPTER VII. + + +About four o'clock the same evening a group of people was gathered +round a young lady who sat on a magnificent and strong-looking horse, +standing with well-bred patience near the rails of the Mile. + +The park was crammed, carriages, riders, and pedestrians all massed and +hot, in the lovely June air, which seemed laden with the scent of the +flowers, and heavy with the sound of wheels and voices. + +The lady was young, but certainly not beautiful. That you decided at +once, immediately you saw her. After a time, when you got to know +her, your decision became somewhat shaken, and you would very likely +admit that if she were not beautiful, she was, well--taking. She was +not tall--short indeed, one of those small women who make us inclined +to believe that all women should be small; one of those little women +who twist great men--and great in all senses of the word--round their +very diminutive little fingers. She had a beautiful figure, _petite_, +fairy-like, lithesome and graceful, and it looked at its very best +in the brown habit of Redfern's make. Her hair was black, her eyes +gray, and her mouth--well, it was not small, but it was wonderfully +expressive. + +She was the center of a group. There were other young ladies with her, +but she was distinctly the center, and the men who crowded round bent +their eyes upon her, addressed most of their remarks to her, and, in +fact, paid her the most attention: the other ladies did not seem to +complain even silently; they took it as a matter of course. + +For this little lady, with the not small but expressive mouth, was Miss +Violet Graham, and she was, perhaps, the richest heiress in London. + +There were several well-known men in the circle round her. There was +the young Marquis of Aldmere, with the pink eyes and the receding chin +of his race, his pink eyes fixed admiringly upon the small, alert face +as he fingered the beginning of a very pale mustache. + +Next him, and leaning on the rails so that he nearly touched her skirt, +was Captain Floyd, otherwise the Mad Dragoon, as handsome as Apollo, +as reckless as only an Irish dragoon can be, and as cool as a cucumber +till the red pepper is applied. + +Near to him was young Lord Chichester, who had just married a very +charming young woman, but who still found it impossible to pass any +group of which Violet Graham was the center. There was several +others--a Member of Parliament, a well-known barrister, and a curate +who happened just then to be the fashion--and, although there were a +great many of them "all at once," Violet Graham seemed quite able to +keep the whole team in hand. And while she talked, the small, keen eyes +were taking in the features of the procession which passed and repulsed +her. + +"There goes the duchess," said Captain Floyd, raising his hat, as a +stout lady, in a handsome equipage, inclined her head toward them. +"Looks very jolly, considering that she has lost so much money, and +that the duke is supposed to have left her." + +"She puts her gain against her loss, don't you see," said Violet Graham +quickly. + +There was an applausive laugh, of course. + +"And here comes the new bishop. Why do bishops always have such awfully +plain wives, Miss Graham?" murmured Lord Chichester. + +"That they may not be too proud, like some of us," she said, promptly. + +Charlie Chichester's wife was good looking. He blushed. + +"You are harder than ever, this afternoon, Miss Graham," he said. + +"Or is it that you are softer?" she retorted. + +The ready laugh rang out. + +"Tremendous lot of people," said the dragoon, languidly; "it makes one +long for a desert island all to one's self." + +"Any island would be a desert which contained Captain Floyd," she said. + +"I don't see the point," he said, looking up at her languidly. + +"Because you would soon quarrel with and kill anyone else who happened +to be living there," she retorted. + +"That's right, Miss Graham," exclaimed Lord Chichester, cheering up. +"Give him one or two lunges; he's far too conceited, and wants taking +down." + +"I wonder where Blair is?" said the captain, and he looked at Miss +Violet, but whether intentionally or not could not be said. If there +was any significance in his glance she did not betray herself by the +movement of an eyelash. + +"Oh, Blair?" said the marquis; "he's off into the country somewhere. +Come a dreadful cropper over Daylight, you know. Think he's gone to +raise the tin; don't know, of course." + +"Of course!" assented Miss Graham, smiling down upon him. + +He was known as "Sublime Ignorance." + +"One for you, Aldy," chorused Chichester. "But, seriously, where is +Blair? He went off without a word, don't you know, let me see, two +days ago. Perhaps he's bolted! Shouldn't wonder! He has been going it +awfully rapidly lately, don't you know. Poor old Blair!" + +For once Miss Graham seemed to have no repartee ready. She sat looking +straight between her horse's ears, her eyes still and placid, her lips +set. + +Then she looked round them with a smile. + +"Well, I can't stay chattering with you any longer." + +"Oh, give us another minute," pleaded Lord Chichester. "It's too hot +for riding." + +"And far too hot for talking," she put in. "I must be off! Are you +coming, girls?" + +As she spoke the two girls who were with her, and who had been +talking with some of the men, obediently--everybody obeyed Violet +Graham--gathered up their reins, a horseman rode slowly up, and +bringing his horse to a stand close beside Violet Graham's, raised his +hat. + +He was a tall, fine-looking man, thin and not badly made, but there +was something in his face which did not prepossess one. Perhaps it was +because the lips were too thin and under control, or the eyes too close +together, or perhaps it was the expression of steadfast determination +which lent a certain coldness and hardness to the clear-cut features. + +"Ah, Austin, how do you do?" said Miss Graham, with the easy +carelessness of an intimate friend, but as she spoke her eyes seemed to +seek his face, and finding something there, dropped to her horse's ears. + +He answered her salutation in a low, clear voice--almost too cold and +grave for so young and handsome a man, and exchanged greetings with the +rest. Then, without looking at her, he said: + +"Are you riding on?" + +"Yes," she said. "We were just starting. Good-bye!" and with a wave of +her hand to her circle of courtiers, she rode on, Austin Ambrose close +by her side. + +"How I hate that fellow!" murmured the dragoon, languidly, looking +after them. + +"Hear, hear," said Lord Chichester. + +"And yet he isn't a bad fellow--what's the matter with him?" stammered +the marquis. + +"Don't know," murmured Captain Floyd. "'I do not like thee, Dr. Fell, +the reason why I cannot tell----'" + +"Who's Dr. Fell?" asked the marquis, with a bewildered stare. + +A shout of laughter greeted his question. + +"Look here, Sublime Ignorance," said the dragoon, with a wearied smile, +"you are too good for this world. Such a complete lack of brains and +ordinary intelligence are utterly wasted on this sublunary sphere." + +"Oh, bother!" grunted the peer. "I never heard of any Dr. Fell, how +should I? But what's the matter with Ambrose?" + +"I don't know," said Lord Chichester, thoughtfully. "I think it's that +smile of his, that superior smile, that makes you long to kick him; or +is it the way in which he looks just over the top of your head?" + +"Or is it because Miss Graham is such a special friend of his that he +can take her away from all the rest of us put together?" murmured the +captain. + +"Oh, there is nothing on there," said Lord Chichester. "My wife--and +she ought to know, don't you know--stoutly denies it." + +"I didn't say there was anything between them. If there was, that would +be sufficient reason for all of us hating him--barring you, Charlie, +who are out of the hunt now." + +"You don't hate Blair?" said Chichester, thoughtfully. + +"Well, there is nothing between him and her; now, at any rate; and if +there were we shouldn't hate him." + +"Fancy hating old Blair!" exclaimed the marquis. + +There was a general smile of assent at the exclamation. + +"Best fellow alive!" said Chichester. "Poor old chappie; he's +dreadfully down on his luck just at present." + +"Oh, he'll come up to time all right!" broke in the dragoon. "You never +find Blair knocked under for long. He'll come up smiling presently. +Always falls on his legs, thank goodness. By the way," he said, more +thoughtfully than was his wont, "it's rather rum how he and that fellow +Ambrose get on so well together." + +"Oh, Blair could get on with any one--Old Nick himself!" exclaimed +Chichester, and amidst the general laugh the group melted and passed on +with the crowd. + +Miss Violet Graham rode on in silence for a moment or two, then she +said, in an undertone: + +"Have you seen him? Where is he?" + +Austin Ambrose cast a cold glance of warning toward the others, and +with a little gesture of impatience Violet Graham answered it. + +"You are right. Come in to tea, will you?" + +"Thanks," he said aloud. "I will leave you now," he added, as they +reached the gates; "I will be round as soon as I have put the horse in." + +Violet Graham nodded, and immediately joined in conversation with the +people near her, and with her usual vivacity exchanged greetings and +rapid exclamations with the people who rode or drove by. It seemed as +if she knew and was known of everybody! + +But presently she pulled up. + +"Well, girls, I'm tired out. It really is too hot for any more of it. +Any of you come home to tea with me?" + +They knew by the way the invitation was given that they were not +wanted, and of course declined, and Miss Graham, turning her horse, +rode pretty smartly, hot as it was, toward the gate. + +In a few minutes she was in her house in Park Lane. + +It was one of the largest houses in the lane, and the appointments were +of a magnificence suitable to the richest lady in London. + +The hall she entered, though not so large as those in country mansions, +was superbly decorated and lined with choice exotics. Statuary, white +as the driven snow, gleamed against the mosaic walls. Plush had given +place to Indian muslin for the summer months, and the white place +looked like an Oriental or a Grecian dream. + +"I am out to everyone but Mr. Ambrose," she said to the footman who +attended her, and passing by the drawing-room, she ascended the stairs +and entered a really beautiful apartment, which, as she reserved it for +herself, might be called her boudoir. + +She shut the door and dropped on a couch, flinging her hat on a table +and feverishly tugging at her gauntlets. Then she rose and began pacing +the room. And all the time she looked as anxious as a woman could look. + +Presently the door opened, and a servant announced Mr. Ambrose. + +"Bring some tea," she said, "and show Mr. Ambrose in." + +He came in, cool, self-possessed, bringing with him, as it seemed, a +breath of cold air. + +Just glancing at her, he put down his hat and whip, and seating himself +in one of the delightfully easy chairs, leant back and looked at her +from under his lids. + +It was a peculiar look, critical, analytical; it was the look a surgeon +bends on a patient who is a curious and, perhaps, difficult case. + +"Well?" she said, sinking into a chair and fidgeting with the handle of +her whip. + +The footman entered with the tea-tray, and Austin Ambrose, instead of +answering, said: + +"No sugar in mine, please." + +She poured him out a cup with not too carefully concealed impatience, +and as he rose and fetched it, taking it leisurely back to his chair, +she beat a tattoo on the ground with her small feet. + +"How tiresomely slow you can be when you like," she said. "I believe +you do it to--to exasperate me." + +"Why should I exasperate you?" he responded calmly, coolly. "Are you +angry with me because I would not speak before the women who were with +us in the park, or before the servant here; it is a question which of +them would chatter most." + +"Oh, you are right, of course. You always are," she said. "That makes +it so annoying. But there are no women or servants here now, and you +can speak freely, and--and at once. Did you see Blair?" + +"I had just left him when I met you," he answered. + +"Well?" she said, and her eyes sought his face eagerly, impatiently. +"Where has he been?" + +"To Leyton Court," he replied. + +"To the earl's," she said. "I thought so." + +"Yes," he said slowly; "he has been to the earl." + +"Well, has he done anything for him?" + +"No; nothing." + +A look of relief shone in her eyes. + +"I am glad, glad!" she murmured. + +"He offered to lend him--or give him--the money he wanted, but Blair +refused." + +"He refused? That was like him!" she said, with a touch of pride and +satisfaction. "Yes, that was just like him. They quarreled, of course?" + +"Oh, yes, they quarreled!" assented Austin Ambrose quietly. "There +were the materials for a quarrel. It seems that, finding the journey +tedious, Blair enlivened it by fighting with one of the rustics." + +She smiled, and a strange look came into her eyes. + +"Yes, that is Blair all over! And the earl heard of it?" + +"Yes," he said, slowly, "he heard of it; and, as the combat took place +just outside the Court gates, he was not altogether pleased. Blair's +account is amusing." + +"He shall tell me! He shall tell me!" she said, looking into vacancy, +her cheeks mantling, her eyes glowing. "I--I have never seen him +fight----" + +"I dare say he would gratify any desire you may have in that direction. +He is always ready to fight, and on the smallest provocation," remarked +Austin Ambrose, with icy coldness. + +"No," she said, "he is not! He is not easily provoked, but when he +is--but what does it matter? We don't want to waste time quarreling +about him. I want to hear all--all that occurred!" + +"I came to tell you," he said, slowly. "The earl, notwithstanding his +anger at the brawl outside the Court gates, offered to lend Blair the +money to help him out of this difficulty, but Blair refused." + +"And--and Ketton must go?" she said, in a tone of satisfaction. + +"Ketton must go the way of the rest," he assented. + +She nodded, her small eyes shining brightly--too brightly. + +"Ketton gone; there is not much left to fall back upon, is there?" + +"No, not much," he replied. + +"And--and he will not pull up; will not retrench? You will prevent +that?" and she looked at him anxiously. + +He did not reply, but his silence was significant enough. + +"And he thinks you his best friend, his Fides Achates. Poor Blair!" and +she laughed. "All his money gone, and his estates; Ketton is the last! +Yes, he cannot keep the pace much longer. He will be--what do you men +call it?--'stone broke,' and then--and then!" She drew a long breath, +and her lips closed and opened. "And then he will come to me! He _must_ +come!" she exclaimed, her hand trembling. "He will come back to me, +and----" She stopped suddenly, arrested by a look in his cold secretive +eyes. "Is there anything else? Have you told me all?" + +He was silent a moment, and she accosted him with an exclamation of +impatient impetuosity. + +"What else is there? Why do you sit there silent, if there is anything +else to tell? Do you remember our bargain?" + +"Yes, I remember it," he said, after a moment's pause, during which he +looked, not at her, but just over her head, in the manner which Captain +Floyd found so objectionable. "It is not so long ago that I should +forget it. It was made in this room. I had the presumption to offer +you----" + +"Never mind that!" she broke in, but as if she had not spoken he went +on in his cold, impassive manner. + +"I had the presumption to offer you my hand, to beg yours! I was fool +enough to imagine that your smiles and your sweet words were intended +to signify that such an offer would not meet with a refusal. It was a +mistake! I had forgotten that I was poor, and that you were rich. You +recalled me to my senses by a laugh, which I hear still----" + +"What is the use----" she tried to break in with, but he went on. + +"Most men, I believe, placed in a like position, that of a rejected +suitor, implore the lady who refuses them her love to grant them her +friendship. I did so. But while most men mean nothing by it, I meant a +great deal. If I could not have you for myself, I was ready to serve +you as a grand vizier serves his sultan, or a slave its master. You +accepted my offer. It was not I you wanted, but another man; that man +was Blair Leyton." + +"You--you put it plainly," she murmured, biting her lip. + +He looked over her head. + +"Yes. Truth is natural, always," he said. "I undertook to help you +to gain him, asking for no definite reward, but trusting to your +generosity." + +"You shall ask for what you like. I will grant it," she said, "you know +that." + +"Yes," he said, "I know that," but his response was uttered with a +significance which she did not appreciate. "You and he were engaged, +the engagement is broken off; it is my task to see that it is renewed. +I am engaged in that task now. Between us, it is understood there +should be no concealment. Concealments would be fatal. You ask me to +tell you all concerning this visit of Blair to the Court. I intend +doing so. There is not much difficulty, for I have just left Blair, who +has found out his heart after his fashion." + +"His heart! About what?" she demanded, taking up her tea cup. + +"About a girl he met there," he said, quietly and coldly. + +The fragile and priceless piece of porcelain fell crushed by her +fingers. + +He rose courteously and picked up the fragments. + +"It will spoil the set," he remarked, coolly. + +"Girl--girl! What girl?" she demanded. + +She was white to the lips, and her gray eyes seemed to have grown dark, +almost black. + +"A girl whom he found staying in the house," he rejoined, with a cool +ease that maddened her. "I can describe her, for Blair was minute to +weariness. She is tall, graceful, has auburn hair, large and expressive +eyes, a small mouth, a clear, musical voice, an angelic smile----" + +She put up her hand. + +"Are--are you saying all this to--to play with me?" she said, and her +voice was almost hoarse. + +He raised his brows and looked above her head with an air of surprise. + +"No. They are his own words," he said. + +"And--and you think he is in"--she paused; something seemed to stop her +utterance for a moment--"he is in love with this girl?" + +He sat silent for a moment. + +"If he is to be believed, he is most certainly," he responded, coldly; +"very much in love--head over heels! He raved about her for nearly an +hour by the clock; I timed him." + +She sprung to her feet and moved to and fro, her tiny hand clutching +the riding-whip until the nails ran into her soft, pink palm. Then she +stopped suddenly and looked at him. + +"And this--this girl?" she said. "Who is she?" + +"The daughter--no, to be exact, the granddaughter of the earl's +housekeeper," he said slowly, as if he enjoyed it. + +She panted and drew her breath heavily. + +"A servant!" she exclaimed, and she laughed, a cruel unwomanly laugh. + +"By no means," he said. "She is, according to Blair, and he is a fair +judge, a lady. She is an artist, and is copying the pictures in the +Court gallery." + +Her face grew white and anxious again. + +"What--what is her name?" she demanded, and her voice was hard and +hoarse. + +He took an ivory tablet from his pocket and consulted it. + +"Her name is Margaret--a pretty name; reminds one of Faust, doesn't it? +Margaret Hale." + +"Margaret Hale," she repeated slowly; then she came and stood in front +of him, her gray eyes as hard as steel, her lips drawn across her +white, even teeth. "And he--you say--he is in love with her?" + +He shrugged his shoulders. + +"He says so," he said coldly. + +"And--and he speaks of marrying her?" + +"Apparently it is the one and absorbing desire of his life," he +responded in exactly the same manner. + +She opened her lips as if about to speak again, then sank on to a couch +in silence. + +He rose. + +"I'll go," he said. + +"Wait!" she said, and she stretched out her hand with the whip in it. +"Austin, this--this, must be stopped, prevented----" she spoke with a +panting breathlessness. "You--you understand. It _must_ be prevented, +at _all_ costs, at any risks! You will do it! Promise me! Remember our +bargain! Ask what you please, I will grant it. Half--every penny I +possess--anything! You will prevent it!" + +He stood looking at her without an atom of expression on his clean-cut +face, which might have been a marble mask. + +"I understand," he said, after the pause. "At any cost? You will not +upbraid, reproach me in the future, whatever may happen?" + +"No. I shall not! At any cost!" she repeated, meeting his cold glance. + +He stood regarding the wall above her head for a moment, then, without +a word, went out and left her. + +Slowly, impassively, he paced down the stairs, his eyes fixed on the +open doorway and the street beyond, but reaching the hall, which +happened to be empty, he paused, and with his foot on the doorstep, he +turned round and smiled. + +It was a peculiar smile and difficult to analyze, but supposing a man +had caught a wild animal in a trap and had left it hard and fast, to be +killed at his leisure, that man might smile as Austin Ambrose smiled as +he looked round the hall of Violet Graham's house in Park Lane. + + + + +CHAPTER VIII. + + +Margaret had never been in love. If any one had asked her why not, she +would have said that she was too busy, and hadn't time. Young men had +admired her, and some few, the artists whom she met now and again, +had fallen in love with her, but no one had ever spoken of the great +mystery to her, for there was something about Margaret, with all her +wildness, an indescribable maiden dignity which kept men silent. + +Lord Blair had been the first to speak to her in tones hinting at +passion, and it is little wonder that his words clung to her, and +utterly refused to be dismissed from her mind, though she tried hard +and honestly to forget them; even endeavored to laugh at them, as the +wild words of a wild young man, who would probably forget that he had +ever spoken them, and forget her, too, an hour or two after he had got +to London. + +But she could not. She said not a word of what had occurred to old Mrs. +Hale, for she felt that she could not have borne the flow of talk, and +comment, and rebuke which the old lady would pour out. It would have +been better if she had spoken and told her all; a thing divided becomes +halved, a thing dwelt upon grows and gets magnified. + +Margaret brooded over the wild words Lord Blair had said until every +sentence was engraved on her mind; even the expression of his face as +he stood before her, defiant as a Greek god, got impressed upon her +memory so that she could call it up whenever she pleased, and, indeed, +it rose before her when she did not even wish it. + +"This is absurd and--and nonsensical!" she exclaimed on the second day +after his departure, when she suddenly awoke to the fact that she had +been sitting, brush in hand, staring before her and recalling Lord +Blair's handsome, dare-devil eyes, as they had looked into hers. "I am +behaving like a foolish, sentimental idiot!" she told herself, dabbing +some color on her canvas with angry self-reproach. "What on earth can +it matter to me what such a person as Viscount Leyton said to me? I +shall never see him again, and he has probably forgotten, by this time, +that such a person as myself exists! I am an idiot not to be able to +forget him as easily. He behaved like a savage to the very last, and +I would not speak to him again if--if we were cast alone on a desert +island!" + +She sprung to her feet with an exclamation of annoyance, and began +bundling her painting materials together, and was in the midst of +clearing up, when she heard a step behind her, and saw the earl. + +It was near the dinner hour, and he was in evening dress, for, though +he dined alone, he always assumed the regulation attire; and Margaret, +as she looked at him, could not help noticing the vague likeness +between him and Lord Blair. + +"Do I disturb you?" he said, in his low, grave voice, and he paused +with the knightly courtesy for which he was famous. + +"No, my lord. I have just finished for to-day," said Margaret, rather +shyly, for she felt his greatness, which spoke in the tone of his +voice, and proclaimed itself even in his gait, and the way he held +himself. + +With a slight inclination of his head he came and stood before the +canvas. + +A slight expression of surprise came over his face. + +"You have made an excellent copy," he said. "I think you are capable of +higher work--original work." + +Margaret's face flushed with pleasure, but she said nothing. It was not +for so humble an individual as herself to bandy compliments with so +great a personage as the Earl of Ferrers. + +"You have worked hard," he said, looking at her; "not too hard, I hope." + +Now Margaret had grown rather pale during these last two days. It had +been one of the results of Lord Blair's passionate words. She did not +sleep much at night, and what with this and dwelling upon the scene +that had passed between them, the roses which Mrs. Hale wished to see +had vanished from her face. + +"You are looking tired and pale," said the earl, in a gravely kind +fashion. + +"I am quite well, my lord," she said, standing with lowered lids under +the piercing gaze of the dark-gray eyes. + +"Yes, it is a very good copy," he said, returning to the picture. "I +should have paid you a visit before; I have not lost my interest in +art, but I have been engaged and indisposed. I have had my nephew with +me," he continued, more to himself than to her--"Lord Leyton." He +sighed. "You may not have seen him?" + +"I have seen him, my lord," said Margaret, and for the life of her she +could not help the tell-tale flush rising to her face. + +His eyes rested on hers, and seemed to sink to the innermost depths of +her soul. + +"Have you spoken to him?" he asked, not angrily, but in the tones a +judge might use. + +Margaret's face grew pale again. + +"I have spoken to him, my lord," she said. + +The earl's face grew stern and he stood perfectly motionless, with his +eyes fixed on her face. + +"I am sorry for that." + +"Sorry, my lord?" faltered Margaret. + +"I am sorry," he repeated. "My nephew, Lord Leyton, is a wicked and +unprincipled young man. He is not fit----" + +"Oh, my lord!" said Margaret, all her womanly chivalry rising on behalf +of the absent. + +The earl looked at her, his eyes dark and severe. + +"He is not fit to hold converse with such as you." Then the look of +grief and surprise seemed to recall him to himself. "No matter. He has +gone. It is not likely that you will see him again----" + +"No, my lord," assented Margaret, with simple dignity. + +"Let us say no more about him. He has nearly broken my heart; he is the +one thorn in my side," he went on, notwithstanding that he had said no +more should be spoken of the wicked young man. "He is a spendthrift and +a gambler, and----" he stopped, suddenly. "If your work is done, permit +me to walk with you on the terrace; the air is cool and inviting." + +"I have finished for to-day, my lord," she said. + +He went to the window and opened it wide for her, and held it open +until she had passed out. + +It was only to Lord Blair that he was rough and fierce. + +"It is a lovely evening," he said, looking out upon the far-stretching +lawns. + +Margaret stood beside him in silence. + +"What will you do with your Guido when you have finished it, Miss +Hale?" he said, after a moment or two. + +Margaret laughed softly. + +"I don't know, my lord," she said at last. + +"If you will sell it, I will buy it," he said. + +Margaret flushed with gratification. + +"I do not know its worth, but I will venture to offer you fifty pounds." + +"That's a great deal too much, my lord," she said, decidedly. + +"I think not," he responded, so quietly that she could say nothing else +beyond "Thank you, my lord!" + +"You shall paint another picture for me," he said; "not a copy this +time." He paused a moment, then went on, "Choose some small piece of +woodland scenery and paint it for me, if you will, Miss Hale." + +"I will, my lord," said Margaret, gratefully. + +Her simple response seemed to please him, and he looked at her +thoughtfully, and with a sad regret. Why had not Heaven blessed him +with a daughter like to this beautiful girl? was passing through his +mind. + +Then he said suddenly: + +"You have no parents, Miss Hale?" + +"No, my lord," said Margaret sadly. + +"And you rely upon your own efforts?" he said gently. + +"Yes," replied Margaret, "I depend entirely upon my painting, Lord +Ferrers." + +"It is not an ignoble dependence," said the stately old man. "You are +happy in being able to rely upon yourself. And you delight in your +work?" + +"I am fonder of it than anything else, my lord," said Margaret, with a +smile. + +The earl paced toward the broad steps that lead from the terrace to +the gardens, and Margaret, feeling that she must not go until she was +dismissed, walked by his side. + +At a turn in the path he stopped short. + +"I must leave you now," he said. "Good-bye! Perhaps, some day, you will +be kind enough to give me your company in another stroll. You will not +forget the picture?" + +"Oh, no, my lord," said Margaret, dropping a courtesy. + +The earl paced slowly to his own apartments, and entering the library, +sat down before the great carved writing-table. + +For half an hour he sat musing. + +"So young, so innocent, so much at the mercy of the cold, cruel world. +Depends upon her art! Poor child, a frail dependence! Why should I not? +I am rich beyond calculation, as they tell me. Why should I not do one +act of common kindness, and make my money of some use to one deserving +it? Hitherto it has passed, through Blair's hands to blacklegs and +scoundrels." + +He drew the paper toward him and took up the pen with an air of +resolution and wrote a note to Messrs. Tyler & Driver, the family +solicitors. + + "Gentlemen," he wrote, "add a codicil to my will, bequeathing five + thousand pounds to Margaret Hale, the granddaughter of Mrs. Hale, + who acts as the Court housekeeper. + + Very truly yours, FERRERS." + +It was an important letter for Margaret, but it bore upon her future +to an extent far greater than would be inferred even by the gift of so +large a sum of money. + + + + +CHAPTER IX. + + +It was only when she had left the earl that Margaret noticed how kind +and gracious he had been. He had not only bought the copy of the Guido, +and commissioned another picture of her, but had walked by her side and +smiled upon her, treating her almost as an equal, with a gentleness +and deference indeed which seemed to indicate that he thought her a +superior. + +"I'll go into the woods and find a subject at once," she said to +herself. "And it shall be my very best picture, or--I'll know the +reason why. No wonder people are fond of lords and ladies, if they are +all like the great Earl of Ferrers." + +No doubt, if she had known the contents of the letter he had just +written to Messrs. Tyler & Driver, she would have thought still more +highly of him. + +She had a sketch-block and pencil in her hand, and she went through to +the woods that fringed the Court lawns on three sides. + +They were lovely woods: there was no more beautiful place in England +than Leyton Court, and Margaret almost forgot the purpose for which she +had come, as she sat in a little bushy dell, through which ran a tiny +stream, tumbling in silvery cascades over the bowlders rounded by the +hand of Time. + +But presently, when she had drank deep of its beauty, she began to make +a sketch of the dell. + +What a lucky girl she was! The possessor of the silver medal, an +exhibitor in the Academy, and now commissioned by no less a personage +than the Earl of Ferrers. + +"I shall be really famous if I go on like this," she said to herself, +with a soft laugh. + +Then the laugh died out on her lips, for, with a sudden spring, a +young man reached the rock she was at that moment sketching, and from +it dropped to her side. + +It was Lord Leyton. + +Margaret was so startled that she let the sketch-block fall from her +hand, and sat looking at him, with the color slowly fading from her +face. She had succeeded in forgetting him for a short hour or two, and +here he was at her side again. + +And Lord Blair assuredly looked, if not startled, pale and haggard. + +For the last two days, since he had left Margaret, overwhelmed by his +passionate outburst, he had been living after his wildest and most +reckless fashion, and two days of such dissipation and sleeplessness, +added to passion, tell even upon such perfect physical specimens of +humanity as Blair Leyton. + +"Lord Leyton!" she said at last. + +He picked up her sketch-block, but held it, still looking at her. + +"I've frightened you," he said, remorsefully; "I--I am a brute. I did +not know you were here until I jumped upon that stone, when I was close +upon you." + +Margaret tried to smile. + +"It does not matter," she said. "Give me my block, please," and she +held out her hand. + +He drew a little nearer, and gave her the block. + +"You are sketching?" he said, his eyes fixed on her face with a wistful +eagerness. + +She inclined her head. + +"Yes; I am painting a picture for the earl." + +"For the earl!" he repeated dully, as if her voice, and not the words +she said, were of importance to him. + +"Yes; if you wish to see him, you will find him at home; he has just +left me." + +"Just left you!" he repeated as before. "No; I don't want to see him." + +Margaret raised her eyes and looked at him. + +"You have not come down to see him?" she said with faint surprise. + +"No!" he responded. "He wouldn't see me if I had. But I didn't come to +see him; I came----" then he stopped for a second. "Miss Margaret, I am +afraid to tell you _why_ I came." + +"Then don't tell me," said Margaret, trying to force a smile. "It +sounds as if you had come for no good purpose, my lord." + +He stood silent for a second, then he flung himself at her feet, and +leaning on his elbow, looked up at her with the same eager wistfulness +in his handsome eyes. + +"Yes, I will tell you," he said; "I came to see you!" + +"To see me?" said Margaret, flushing. Then the straight brows came +together. "Lord Leyton, you should not have said that!" + +"Why should I not?" he demanded, "if it's true--and it is true! Miss +Margaret, I have been the wretchedest man in London these last two +days." + +"I doubt that," said Margaret quietly, and going on with her sketch. + +"It's the truth. If there was a man condemned to be hanged, I'll wager +he wasn't more wretched than I have been." + +"Wicked people are always wretched--or should be, my lord," said +Margaret coolly. + +"And I am wicked. Yes, I know," he said; "I am the vilest of the vile, +in your eyes. But it isn't for what I've done in the past that I'm so +miserable, it is for what I said to you in the picture gallery the +other morning. Miss Margaret, I behaved like a brute! I--I--said words +that--that have made me wish I were dead----" + +"That will do, Lord Leyton," said Margaret, interrupting him. "If you +are so sorry there need be no more said excepting that I forgive you, +and will forget them. I knew that you did not mean them at the time." + +His face crimsoned, and his eyes grew almost fierce. + +"Stop," he said; "I don't say that. I won't. I'm sorry I was rough; I'm +sorry I behaved like a bear and blared and shouted, but I did mean what +I said, and mean it still." + +"I don't care whether you meant it or not, it is not of the least +consequence, Lord Leyton," said Margaret, and she put her pencil in its +case, and closed her sketch-block. + +"Wait--do wait!" he explained. "Don't go yet. I have so much to say to +you, so much, and I don't know how to say it! Miss Margaret, I came +down on the chance of seeing you, and all the way down I prepared a +speech, but the sight of you so suddenly has driven it all out of my +head, and I can think of nothing but three words of it, and--and those +I dare not say." + +"I must go, my lord," said Margaret, trying to speak calmly and +indifferently, but feeling her heart beginning to throb and quiver +under the sound of his voice and the passionate regard of his dark eyes. + +"Wait--wait five minutes," he implored. "Miss Margaret, don't send me +back to London feeling that you despise me. Don't do that! I'm bad +enough as it is, but I shall be worse if you do that." + +Margaret sank down on the stones again, and listened with her eyes +guarded by their long lashes; but she still could see his face. + +He drew himself a little nearer. + +"Miss Margaret, are you a witch?" + +"A witch?" she faltered. + +"Yes," he said. "I think you must be one, for you have bewitched me." + +"Lord Leyton----" + +"Am I not bewitched?" he said, holding out his hands appealingly; +"isn't a man bewitched when he can only think of one thing, day and +night, and can get no rest or sleep from thinking of it? And that is +how it is with me. I can think of nothing but you." + +Margaret made a motion to get up, but he laid his hand on the edge of +her skirt imploringly. + +"That is how it is with me," he went on. "I tell you the simple truth. +I--I have never felt like it before. None of the women I ever met made +me feel like this! What is it you have done to me to steal the heart +out of my body? for I feel that it is gone--gone!" and he touched his +breast with his finger. + +Margaret tried to smile, but there is a tragedy in real passion which, +however wild the language, forbids laughter, and Lord Leyton's passion +was real. + +"I see your face all day, I hear your voice. I go over every word you +said to me--and some of them were hard words!--and--and to-day I felt +that I must get near to you, that I must come down to Leyton if I died +for it. Do you believe what I say?" + +"I know that I should not listen to you, my lord," she said, in a low +voice. + +"Why not?" he said. "It is true. Miss Margaret, you have stolen my +heart; what is there left to me? I have come because I must, and now I +am here I am no better, for I feel that I must tell you more, all that +there is to tell, even if you send me away. But don't do that if you +can help it, for Heaven's sake don't do that!" and she saw that his +lips were quivering. "Margaret, you know what I would say," he went on, +in the low, thrilling tones of a young and strong man's passion. "I +love you!" + +Margaret did not start, but a red flush rose and covered her face, then +left it pale even to whiteness, and she sat as if turned to stone. + +"I love you! Dear, I love you!" he murmured. "Do you--will you not +believe me?" + +She opened her lips, but he put up his hand. + +"No, don't speak--not yet. I know what you were going to say. You were +going to say that it is impossible, that we only met a few days ago, +that we are strangers. Yes, I know that is what you would say. But +it is of no use to say that. Do you think people can get to love by +knowing each other a certain number of months--years? Margaret, I think +I loved you when I saw you in the village the first time; I know I +loved you when you sat by my side in the garden and let me put the rose +in your dress! Only a few days ago! Why, it seems years to me--it _is_ +years! Oh, Margaret, don't be hard and cruel, and you can be so hard, +so cruel! See here; I lay all my life at your feet! It's a bad lot, I +know! Why, I told you so, didn't I? But--but I'll change all that! You +shall see! Let me go on loving you; let me hope that, some day, you'll +try and love me a little in return, and I'll turn over a new leaf! I +can never be worthy of you. Oh, I know that. Why, where is there a +man in all the world who could be worthy to touch the edge of your +dress?" and as he spoke he raised her skirt to his lips, and far from +touching herself as his lips were, she seemed to feel them. "But every +day, every hour, if you will let me love you, I'll tell myself that +I'm of some consequence to someone in the world, and that will keep me +straight! Margaret--" he paused and crept a little nearer--"Margaret, +you are an angel, and I am a--well, just the other thing; but I ask you +to be my guardian angel! Dear, if you knew how I love you! I cannot get +your face from before my eyes; every word you have uttered sings in my +heart! I am bewitched, bewitched! And--and all I can say is, let me +love you all my life, and try and love me a little!" + +Pale, trembling, Margaret listened, her eyes downcast, her hands +clasped tightly in her lap. + +It was all so new, so strange, so unexpected that her heart throbbed +and her brain whirled. His words, in their passionate assertion and +entreaty, seemed to penetrate to her soul, and with it all a sense of +ineffable joy and delight suffused her whole being and ran through +every vein. + +"You won't speak to me?" he said, with a quick sigh that was almost +like a sob. "I see how it is! I am not fit; yes, I know! And I have +offended you worse than I did the other morning. I--I am a fool, and I +have destroyed my only chance! I meant to be so quiet and--and gentle +with you, but I can't teach myself to keep quiet and soft-spoken when +my heart is all on fire, and I long to clasp you in my arms and hear +you tell me that you love me! Margaret, my good angel! Margaret, won't +you say one little word to me? Not to send me away, but to tell me +that, bad as I am, you will--well, think a little kindly of me!" + +He had drawn himself still closer, so that his face almost touched the +lace of her sleeves, and she could see the quiver of his lips under the +thick mustache. + +He waited a moment, then his head drooped. + +"All right," he said; "don't speak. I see how it is. No, I'd rather you +didn't speak. I might have known that you wouldn't listen to me, that +you wouldn't give me any kind of hope. Good Lord, why should you? Well, +I'll take myself off; I'll get out of your sight." + +He had raised himself, but Margaret's hand stole out and fell, light as +a feather, on his arm. + +He seized it as a man dying of thirst in the desert seizes the cup of +water that will save him, and covered it with hot passionate kisses. + +"No, no!" she breathed, trying to draw it away. "You--you have unnerved +me, Lord Leyton!" + +"Go on!" he said. "I can bear it better if you will let me keep your +hand!" and he pressed it to his lips again "What are you going to say, +Margaret? Don't be hard upon me." + +"Hard!--how can I be hard?" she faltered, and the tears came thickly +into her sweet eyes. "How could anybody be hard, after such--such +things as you have said? But--but--oh, my lord--isn't it all a mistake? +You--you cannot lov----it is impossible!" + +"Just what I told myself!" he exclaimed almost triumphantly. "I said +it was impossible! But a starving man won't persuade himself that he +isn't hungry by telling himself that he had something to eat a week +ago. Margaret, I love you--I _do_ love you!" and he pressed her hand +against his heart, which throbbed passionately under her fingers like +an imprisoned bird. "You know that it is true--do you not?" + +"I--I think it is true!" she faltered in all modesty, in all honesty, +but with a strange look in her face; "I do not know! No one has ever +spoken to me as you have spoken; no one--no one!" + +"Thank God for it!" he exclaimed. "I couldn't bear to think that any +other man had been before me, Margaret! And will you try--oh, my dear, +be good to me!--will you try and love me----" + +She turned her eyes upon him with a grave, touching appeal which +rendered her face angelic in its perfect maidenly innocence and +trustfulness. + +"I--I will try," she murmured in so low a voice that it is wonderful +that he should have heard it. + +But he did hear it, and leaning forward, caught her in his arms and +drew her to him until her head rested on his shoulders, her face +against his. + +Then, as his lips clung to hers in the first love kiss that man had +ever imprinted there, she drew back, startled and trembling. + +"Margaret, dearest!" he exclaimed, in tender reproach, attempting to +take her in his embrace again. + +"No, no!" she panted. "Not yet--not yet! I am not sure----" + +"Of me, of my love, dearest? Not sure?" he murmured reproachfully. + +"Not sure of myself!" she said, locking her hands together. "I--I must +think, I cannot think now. Ah, you have bewitched _me_----" and she put +her hand to her brow, and looked down at him with a far-away, puzzled +look. "I want to be alone, to think it all over. It seems too--too wild +and improbable----" + +"Think now, dearest. Give me your hand. I will not speak, I will not +look at you!" he said, soothingly. + +"No, no!" she said, almost fearfully, drawing her hand from him; and +rising, she stood as if half giddy. + +"You will leave me," he said, piteously, "with only----" + +"I have said I--I will try!" she answered. "I will go now." + +He sprung to his feet. + +"Let me come with you--to the house, my dearest," he pleaded. + +But she put up her hand. + +"No; go now! We shall meet again--perhaps--soon." + +"Yes, yes!" he responded, catching at the slightest straw of +encouragement, like a drowning man. "I won't hurry you, or harass you, +Margaret! I will try and be gentle with you. I will be a changed man +from now. You shall see. But you will let me come again soon? You will +meet me here to-morrow, Margaret?" he added, anxiously. + +"The--the day after," she faltered. "Good-bye!" + +He took her hand and held it to his lips, then she drew it away, and +seemed to vanish from his sight. + +At twenty paces she stopped, however, and holding up the hand he had +kissed and pressed against his heart, she looked at it with a curious +look, then laid her lips where his had touched it. + +Poor Margaret! + + + + +CHAPTER X. + + +Austin Ambrose had chambers in the Albany. He was not a rich man, as +he had remarked, but the rooms were comfortably, even luxuriously +furnished, and the taste displayed in their ornamentation and +decoration was of the best. There were good pictures, rare china, and +bronzes, that, if not priceless, were curious enough to be reckoned as +valuable. + +How Mr. Austin Ambrose lived was a mystery, just as he himself was +somewhat of a mystery. He was supposed to have a small income, and he +was known to play an admirable hand at whist, and to wield a remarkably +good cue at billiards. + +He was also a capital judge of a horse, and it was conjectured that he +added to his certain income by these usually uncertain adjuncts. + +On the evening of Blair's avowal in the Leyton Woods, Austin Ambrose +sat over the dessert which followed his modest dinner. + +A bottle of very fine claret was on the table, and he was sipping this +in silent abstraction, when the door burst open, and Lord Blair rushed +in. + +Austin Ambrose looked up without a particle of surprise, but with a +faint smile of irony. + +"House on fire?" he said. + +"My dear old chappie!" exclaimed Blair, laying his strong hand on +Austin's shoulder, "I've such a lot to tell you! Austin, I've seen her!" + +"Seen her? Seen whom?" said Austin raising his brows as if trying to +recollect, whereas he had been thinking of the "her" as Blair rushed +in. "Oh, the young lady, Miss--Miss Hale." + +"Of course, of course!" exclaimed Blair, pacing up and down the room. +"Austin, old fellow, I don't know where to begin. I've only just come +back from Leyton and from her! Austin, she is an angel!" + +"I dare say," was the cool comment. "And so you have been to Leyton. +Another fight, Blair?" + +"Pshaw!" exclaimed Lord Blair. "Be serious, old fellow. My heart is +bursting with it all." + +"Perhaps it will burst all the easier--at any rate you will be more +comfortable--if you sit down," said Austin Ambrose, dragging a chair +forward without rising. "Sit down, man, and don't wear my carpet out. +I'm not rich enough to afford another, you know." + +Lord Blair sank into the chair and took the wine which the other man +poured out for him. + +"And so you have been down to Leyton, Blair, have you? 'Pon my word, I +didn't think you were so hard hit!" + +Lord Blair made a gesture of impatience. + +"I told you that I loved her!" he said, almost savagely. + +Austin Ambrose shrugged his shoulders and raised his eyebrows. + +"My dear fellow, you have made the same interesting remark about so +many women!" + +"No!" said Blair, vehemently. "I have never spoken about any other +woman as I have spoken to you about her, because I have never felt for +any other woman as I feel for her. Austin, if you could see her! She is +the most beautiful creature you ever saw, and so modest, so sweet, so +refined, so--there, if I were to rave about her from now till midnight +I should not give you an idea of what she is like. Do you know that +picture of Gainsborough, the girl gathering flowers--but there, what is +the use of trying to describe her!" + +"There is no use," said Austin, sipping his wine critically and +lighting a cigar. + +"No, and to you, especially!" said Lord Blair. "As well talk to a stone +image. _You_ know nothing of love or women." + +Austin Ambrose smiled, a peculiar smile. + +"Not the least," he said, cheerfully and placidly. "Love and women are +not in my line. Wine and weeds and a good suit of trumps now--but tell +me about her, for I know you are dying to. You saw her?" + +"Yes, I saw her," assented Lord Blair, with a long sigh. + +"And is that all?" asked Ambrose carelessly, but with a certain quick, +attentive look in the corner of his cold gray eye. "Simply raised your +hat and said 'good-day!'" + +"No, by the Lord, no! I spent an hour with her--I think--I don't +know--I lost all count of time, of everything." + +"You talked to her? Did you mention that you had lost your senses--I +mean your heart?" + +"No chaffing about her, Austin," said Lord Blair, almost sternly, and +with the look of passion that came so readily to his frank eyes. "Yes, +I _did_ tell her that I loved her!" he said, after a moment's pause. + +Austin Ambrose looked over Blair's head without a particle of +expression in his eyes. + +"And may one ask how she took it?" he said, as carelessly as politeness +would permit, but with his attention acutely on the alert. "What did +she say?" + +"I can't tell you all she said. I wouldn't if I could," said Blair, the +color coming to his face, his eyes glowing with a rapt look. "She gave +me no direct answer. I--I have to wait, Austin. Oh, how can I wait! The +hours will seem years. Don't laugh, or I shall get up and kill you," he +broke off blushing, but half in earnest. "Austin, if ever a man loved +with all his heart, and mind, and body, and soul, I love her!" + +"Yes," said Austin, slowly, almost gravely, "I think you do." + +There was a moment's silence. + +"And you propose--what do you propose?" he said, quietly; "do you mean +to marry her?" + +Blair sprung to his feet and his face turned white. + +"Tut, tut, man," remarked Austin Ambrose, with perfect coolness, "you +don't always marry them!" + +Lord Blair sank back into his chair with a look of remorse and shame +that was of more credit to him than any other expression could have +been. + +"You hit me fairly, Austin," he said, almost hoarsely. "But--but--all +that has gone forever, I hope! I--I turn over a new leaf from to-day, +please Heaven! Do I mean to marry her? Yes, yes! If she will have me! +If she will stoop, the angel, to pick me out of the mud with her pure +white hand, I mean to go to the earl and say--'My lord, this is my +future wife!'" and he sprung up and began to pace the floor. + +Austin Ambrose sipped his wine. + +"Hem!" he said, slowly. "I don't think I should do that, if I were in +your place, Blair." + +Lord Blair stopped. + +"You wouldn't--why not?" + +Austin Ambrose was silent for a moment, then he set down his glass +and leant back in his chair, but still looked just over Blair's head, +instead of into his eyes. + +"Look here, Blair," he said; "I don't know that I have any right to +intrude my advice, or even my opinion, upon you, but I am, as you know, +your friend." + +"I should think so!" exclaimed Lord Blair. + +"Yes, I am your friend! I owe you my life! Ever since you picked me out +of the Thames that August morning----" + +"Oh, nonsense!" broke in Blair. "Any fellow would have done the same! +You'd have picked me out if I'd had the cramp, and was going down +instead of you." + +"Well, we won't talk of it then," said Austin Ambrose; "but, of course, +I don't forget it. When I look in the glass in the morning, I say to +the not particularly handsome gentleman who regards me, 'My friend, but +for Lord Blair's strong arm and good wind, _you_ would not be outside +the world's crust this morning.' Of course, I can't forget it, and as +I owe you my life, I will continue to be a nuisance to you by offering +my advice, and that is, 'Don't go to the earl and tell him you are +going to make his housekeeper's granddaughter his future niece and the +Countess of Ferrers!'" + + + + +CHAPTER XI. + + +"What do you say?" said Lord Blair, staring at Austin Ambrose with +astonishment. "You wouldn't tell the earl?" + +"No," said Ambrose, lighting a cigarette and stretching out his legs +with comfortable indolence. "I certainly should not." + +"But--but why not?" demanded Lord Blair. + +"Well," said Ambrose slowly, "you are awkwardly placed, you see. I +imagined from all you have told me that you and the earl do not get on +very well together as it is." + +"You are right, we don't," admitted Lord Blair shortly. + +"Just so. You have led--well, not to put it too plainly--you have been +engaged in that branch of agriculture which is called sowing wild oats +for a considerable period, and with a great deal of energy. You have +had, I believe, rather a large sum of money from the earl?" + +"Yes, I have," admitted Blair with a sigh and a frown. + +"Not a penny of which he would regret, if you would only oblige him by +marrying the woman he has chosen for you." + +"Violet Graham?" + +"Exactly; Violet Graham," assented Austin Ambrose, knocking the ash off +his cigarette and keeping his eyes fixed upon it. "And that, I take it, +you don't care to do?" + +"You know I don't. And Violet doesn't either. Why, you yourself advised +me to release her, you know that she doesn't care a brass farthing for +me!" exclaimed Blair, pacing to and fro. + +"Oh, as to knowing, I don't go so far as that. You asked me for my +opinion, and I gave it to you. I don't think she cares for you. I don't +think Miss Graham is the kind of woman to care very much for any one." + +"Very well, then, how the deuce could I marry her?" said Blair. "But +what's the use of talking about that? Whatever I might have done before +I saw Margaret, I certainly couldn't marry any one but her now, not to +save a dukedom!" + +"All right," assented Austin Ambrose, without permitting the slightest +expression of the thrill of satisfaction that ran through him. "I +quite understand, and I must say I think you are acting wisely. +The man who marries one girl while he loves another is worse than +wicked--he is foolish. But, all the same, the earl remains disappointed +and displeased. Do you think, Blair, that his disappointment and +displeasure would be lessened if you were to go to him and say, 'I +can't marry Violet Graham, the woman you have chosen for me, and whose +money would set me straight; but behold the girl I intend to make my +wife and the future Countess of Ferrers!--she is your housekeeper's +niece!'" + +"Grand-daughter," said Blair. "And what if she is? I tell you, Austin, +Margaret is a lady, from the crown of her head to the soles of her +feet!" + +"I dare say. I am sure she is, if you say so. You are a very good +judge. But, my dear Blair, you can't expect everybody to see her with +your eyes, especially an old man who has outlived the age of romance! +Miss Margaret, with all her beauty, and grace, and refinement, will be +his housekeeper's granddaughter--and nothing more to him. He will, to +put it plainly, be very mad, my dear Blair." + +"Well!" said Blair, with the Leyton frown on his handsome face, and the +firm look about his lips which when seen by his friends was understood +by them to mean that he had made up his mind--"what then?" + +Austin Ambrose raised his eyebrows and looked just over Blair's head +with a smile. + +"What then? Well, you ought to know better than I whether you can +afford to quarrel right out with your uncle, the great earl." + +Blair flushed. + +"What can he do to me--or her?" he asked. + +"He can't order you off to instant execution, as he would no doubt +like to do," said Ambrose, "but he can injure your prospects very +materially, my dear Blair. Oh, I know about the title and estate," he +went on, as Blair opened his lips. "Those _must_ come to you--lucky +beggar that you are! But there is something more and beyond those. The +earl has a large personal property, a vast sum of money, that he can +leave as he pleases----" + +"How do you know that?" demanded Blair, with a faint surprise. + +The slightest flush rose to Austin Ambrose's face. + +"Well," he replied, "I only imagine so. Like most people, I know that +the earl has not lived up to a half, or a quarter of his income for +years. And what an income it is! He must have saved an enormous sum of +money----" + +"Let him do what he likes with it!" exclaimed Blair, bluntly. "I have +had more than my share already. Let him leave it to anybody he likes. +It is his own." + +"Whom is he to leave it to?" said Ambrose. "The Home for Lost Dogs?" + +"Or Sick Cats. I don't care!" said Blair, impetuously. + +"That is all very well, and very noble, and all that, my dear Blair," +said the cool, quiet voice. "But--pardon me--you haven't only yourself +to think about, you know. There is your wife--the fair Margaret----" + +"Heaven bless her, my darling!" murmured Blair. + +"Just so," retorted Ambrose, with a cynical smile. "But when you say +Heaven bless her, you mean that you wish Providence to pour out the +good things of this life upon her with a liberal hand, but at the same +moment you declare your intention of depriving her and her children of +a large sum of money. Rather inconsistent, isn't it?" + +Blair stood and looked down at him. + +"What a head you have, Austin!" he said. "You ought to have been a +lawyer. All this never struck me. I--I--never look forward to the +future." + +Austin Ambrose shrugged his shoulders. + +"If we don't look forward to the future, the future has an awkward +knack of looking back upon us!" he said indolently. "Depend upon it, my +friend, that if you let the earl's money slip, you'll live to be sorry +for it, not for your own sake, I dare say; you don't care about money, +but for your wife and children's!" + +"We shouldn't be paupers exactly!" said Blair, with a laugh. + +"No!" assented Ambrose; and he shot a glance of envy, hatred, and all +uncharitableness at the frank, handsome face. "No, you will be one of +the richest men in England, but all the same----" + +"And--and I hate anything like concealment and deceit," Blair broke in +impatiently; "especially in connection with _her_." + +Austin Ambrose nodded. + +"Well, you asked for my opinion, and you are quite at liberty to reject +it as per usual," he said carelessly. "But though I am not a rich +man, I don't mind betting you fifty to one--in farthings--that if you +declare your purpose of marrying this young lady to the earl, that +before many years are over you will come to me and wish to Heaven you +had taken my advice." + +Blair bit at his cigar and fidgeted in the chair he had thrown himself +into. + +"I hate the idea of secrecy, Austin," he said at last; "and yet--but +there! ten to one Margaret would refuse a clandestine marriage." + +Austin Ambrose did not sneer, but he lowered his lids till they covered +the cold gray eyes. + +"Yes? I think not. Not if you told her all that you would lose by an +open declaration. Women--forgive me, my dear fellow, but I know a +little about them, though you think I don't--women have a better idea +of the value of money than we men have. I think Miss Hale will consent +to a quiet wedding when she knows that by so doing she will save +several score of thousands to her husband, and to her future children." + +There was silence for a moment, then Blair spoke. His fate and +Margaret's, and more than theirs, had hung in the balance while he had +hesitated. + +"I think you're right, Austin," he said. "You always are, I know, and +though I hate doing it, I'll take your advice. It--it will be only for +a short time." + +"Yes, the earl is quite an old man----" + +"I didn't mean that," said Blair, quickly, "I don't want him to die, +Heaven knows! I am not at all anxious to be the Earl of Ferrers. I +shouldn't make half as fine an earl as he does." + +"Just so," said Austin Ambrose. "But I am glad you intend to take my +advice." + +"Of course it all depends upon what Margaret says," said Lord Blair, +gravely. "She may tell me that she--she will not marry me"--Austin +Ambrose smoothed away a smile that was more than half a sneer--"but if +she should say 'Yes,' then I will ask her to marry me quietly, though I +hate the idea of any secrecy." + +There was silence for a moment, then Austin Ambrose said, with a +meditative smile: + +"And are you going to turn over a new leaf, eh, Blair? What will the +gay world do without you? What will they all say?--Lottie Belvoir, for +instance." + +Lord Blair colored and frowned. + +"What has my marriage to do with Lottie Belvoir?" he said. "I have not +seen her for months." + +"Oh, nothing," assented Ambrose. "But you and she were so very thick, +that I expect she will be a little heart-broken, you know." + +Lord Blair made an impatient movement. + +"I wish to Heaven I had never seen her or any of her kind," he said, +remorsefully. "What fools men are, Austin! If we could only live our +lives over again--but there, I mean to begin afresh now. And you will +help me, old fellow!" and he laid his hand on the other man's shoulder. +"You have always been the best friend I ever had, and you will help me +now!" + +"Of course, I'll help you; but I don't see what I can do," said Austin +Ambrose, quietly. "If Miss Hale says 'Yes,' I should beg her to marry +me as soon as possible. All you have to do then is to go down to some +out-of-the-way place where there is a church--and there are churches +everywhere--get the bans put up, or, better still, get a special +license. You can be married as snugly as possible, and no one will be +any the wiser. Such marriages are managed every day. Who knew that +old Fortesque was married? We all thought him a bachelor, and yet he'd +had a wife seven years! I'll help you all I can. I can't do less, +having given you my advice to keep the thing a secret from the earl. Of +course, I'd rather not have anything to do with it, but"--he shrugged +his shoulders--"you can't refuse anything to a man who saved your life, +you know! Have some more wine?" + +"No, thanks; no more," said Lord Blair, jumping up; "I'll take a stroll +in the park. I want to think it all over. I am to see her the day after +to-morrow, to know if I am to be the happiest or the most miserable of +men. Ah, Austin, if you could only see her!" + +"I hope I may have the honor soon," he returned. "They say that when a +man marries, his wife always hates his most intimate friend. I hope it +won't be so with your wife, Blair, I must confess." + +"Margaret is incapable of hating any one," said Blair; "she is an +angel, and angels can't hate if they try! Austin, old fellow cynic and +woman-hater as you are, you will admit that I have some reason in my +madness when you see the girl I love." + +"I dare say," said Ambrose. "Well, good-bye! Come and tell me how it +all goes." + +"Of course," said Blair, getting his hat and stick. + +"By the way," said Ambrose indolently; "this is quite a secret at +present, isn't it? You have not told any one but me that you have ever +seen this young lady?" + +"It is quite a secret if you like to call it so," said Blair. "I have +told no one." + +"I can't help thinking you were right," said Ambrose. "If I were you I +would not open my lips to any one." + +Lord Blair nodded, but his face grew overcast. + +"I do hate all this mystery," he said; "but I suppose you are right. +What I want to do is to take her hand and stand before the world and +say, 'Look here, what a prize I have got!'" + +"Yes; very nice of you," said Austin Ambrose, "but as we concluded +that it is your duty and policy to keep the world in the dark for the +present, the best thing you can do is to say nothing to anybody." + +"Yes," said Blair; "very well," and he strode out of the room. + +Austin Ambrose sat and listened to the firm, decided step as it died +away on the stairs, then he rose and paced the room with slow and +measured tread, his hard, cold face set like stone. + +"It's risky!" he muttered at last. "It may fail, and then----But it +will not fail! Blair is easy enough to manage, and the girl--well, she +is like the rest, I suppose and, Heaven knows, they are easy enough to +deceive! I'll chance it!" + +He sat down and remained in thought for another quarter of an hour, +then he rose, and putting a light overcoat over his dress clothes, he +took his hat and went out. + +Passing up one of the small streets, he reached a short row of houses, +quiet, miniature boxes of residences, called Anglesea Terrace, and +knocking at No. 9, inquired if Miss Belvoir were at home. + +Before the maidservant could reply, a feminine voice called out through +the open door in the narrow passage: + +"Yes, she is. Is that you, Mr. Ambrose? Come in," and Austin Ambrose, +passing through the little passage, which was lined with large +photographs of Miss Belvoir in various costumes, entered the room from +which the voice proceeded. + +The room was a very small one--far too small to permit of that +oft-mentioned performance--swinging a cat--and it was rather shabbily, +though gaudily furnished. The furniture was old and palpably rickety, +the carpet was threadbare, but there was a brilliant wall paper, and +a pair of gay-colored cushions. An opera cloak, lined with scarlet, +lay on one of the chairs, and on the sofa were a hat and a pair of +sixteen-button kid gloves. + +The owner of the hat, opera cloak, and gloves, sat at the table +"discussing," as the old authors say, a lobster and a bottle of stout. + +She was a girl of about two-and-twenty, neither pretty nor plain, but +with a sharp, intelligent face--the sort of face one sees amongst the +London street boys--and a pair of dark and wide-awake eyes, which were +by far her best features. She wore a light-blue dressing grown--rather +frayed at the sleeves, by the way, and trimmed with a cheap and--by no +means slightly--dirty lace. But for all its sharpness and the vulgarity +of its surroundings, it was not altogether a bad face. + +This was Miss Lottie Belvoir. She was an actress. Not a famous one +by any means--only a fifth-rate one at present; but she was waiting +for a favorable opportunity to become a first-rate one. Perhaps the +opportunity might come, perhaps it mightn't; meanwhile, Lottie Belvoir +was content to work hard and wait. Some day, perchance, she would +"fetch" the town, and then she would exchange the grimy back room +in Anglesea Terrace for a house at St. John's Wood, the old satin +dressing-gown for a costume of Worth, and the lobster and stout for +_pate de foie gras_ and champagne. Until that happy time arrived, +she was perfectly content with minor parts in the burlesques at the +Frivolity Theater. + +"Oh, it is you, is it?" she said, without rising or stopping at the +manipulation of one of the lobster claws; "I thought I recognized your +voice. Who was it said that he never forgot a voice or a face? Some +great man. Well, I'm like him. You have come just in time. Have some +lobster?" + +"No, thank you, Lottie," said Ambrose Austin; "I have only just dined." + +"Of course, you swells dine later than ever, now, and that's why you +can't turn up at the theater until we have got half through the piece. +Well, sit down. Make yourself at home. Take care!" she exclaimed, as +he sank into an arm-chair; "that chair's got a castor off. Here, take +this," and she kicked and pushed another one toward him. "Don't put +your cigar out; I'm just going to have a cigarette. Have some stout? +No? Too heavy, I suppose? Well, here's some whisky. And how's the world +treating you? You look very flourishing; but you always do." + +"I might return the compliment," he said. "You are still on the +Frivolity, Lottie?" + +"Still at the Friv.," she assented, lighting a cigarette and throwing +herself not ungracefully on the sofa. "Why don't you drop in some +evening and give me a hand? You are too busy at your club with another +kind of hand--a hand at cards, I suppose?" she added with charming +candor. + +He smiled. + +"I'll look in some night," he said; "but I suppose they will soon be +going on tour." + +"Yes, in another fortnight," she said with a yawn, "and precious glad I +shall be. London's getting too warm even for this child." + +"And yet I want you to stay in London," he said quietly. + +She looked across at him and blew out a ring of smoke scientifically. + +"You do, do you? What for? Are you going to take a theatre and engage +me as leading lady?" + +"Do I look like it?" he retorted with a smile. + +"Well, not much," she said, surveying him critically. "People might +take you for a good many things, Mr. Ambrose, but they wouldn't take +you for a fool, or if they did they would be taken in." + +"Thanks, Lottie," he said. "That is something like a compliment." + +"No, I don't think you are such an idiot as to take a theater," she +said, "but what do you want me to stay in London for?" + +"To assist me in a little business I'm engaged in," he said. + +She regarded him with sharp scrutiny as she leant back and smoked her +cigarette. + +"You seem rather shy in mentioning it and coming to the point," she +said dryly; "is it anything very bad?" + +He laughed. + +"Oh, no, something quite in your line. You know, Lottie, I always said +you would turn out a great actress." + +"You have said so a dozen of times," she said, "but whether you meant +it----" + +"I was quite serious, I assure you," he responded, "and in proof of my +sincerity I am going to ask you to play a very difficult part." + +"Oh, you've written a play!" she said coolly; "well, that's more in +your line. And when are you going to produce it? And I'm to have a big +part, am I, or is it a little one as usual? The authors always try and +persuade you when they are giving you a part with about five lines in +it, that it's the most important in the cast." + +"I haven't written a play, and yet I have, so to speak," he said. "And +you have the best part, far and away, Lottie. By the way, I have a +piece of news for you. Lord Blair is going to be married!" + +He burst it upon her purposely to see how she would like it, and for a +moment Lottie turned crimson and then white, and her eyes blazed; then +the actress asserted herself over the mere woman, and taking up another +cigarette she lit it before she gave vent to a cool---- + +"Oh, really!" + +But Austin Ambrose had seen the deep red and the quick flash of the +eyes and was not taken in by the nonchalant "Oh, really!" + +"Yes," he said; "but it is a profound secret at present." + +"And so you want me to tell everybody! I understand." + +"No," he said, "I do not want you to tell anyone this time. I want it +to be really kept quiet. You will see why directly." + +"And the happy young lady is Miss Violet Graham, I suppose?" said +Lottie, after a moment's pause. "What a funny thing it is that Fortune +showers all her gifts on some persons and bestows only slaps on the +face on others. Now, there's Miss Graham, the richest woman in England, +and Fortune goes and gives her the nicest and handsomest young man +for a husband, while I, poor Lottie Belvoir, have to struggle and +struggle, and work like a nigger, and all I get is some small part in +a frivolity burlesque. It _is_ funny, isn't it?" + +"Very funny," assented Austin Ambrose; "but you are a little wrong in +your guess. It is not Miss Graham." + +"Not Miss Graham! Who then?" + +Austin Ambrose did not hesitate a moment. He had well calculated his +plans, and he knew that if he meant to tell anything to the sharp Miss +Lottie he must tell all. Half confidences could be of no use. + +"Look here, Lottie," he said, "I am going to confide in you because I +know that you are unlike most women, inasmuch as you can, if you like, +hold your tongue." + +"Thanks," she said, watching him closely; "that's a compliment for me. +I really think you do mean business, you are so very polite." + +"I told you I wanted you to help me, and you can't help me unless you +know all I know. Blair is not going to marry Miss Graham, but a young +woman whom I have not seen, whom I never heard of--nor any one else. +She is, I believe, a kind of servant----" + +Lottie sat up, open-eyed. + +"What!" she exclaimed and the color came into her face again. If Lord +Blair had been going to marry Miss Graham, she would have regarded it +as a matter of course, but that he should be going to throw himself +away upon a "kind of servant" was more than she could bear with +equanimity. + +"It is true," said Austin Ambrose. + +"Blair--_Blair_, of all people!--going to make such a fool of himself +as that! Why, he must be out of his mind!" + +Austin Ambrose shrugged his shoulders. + +"I think he is," he said, coolly. "I never saw him so mad. He simply +raves about her like a schoolboy. She's everything that is beautiful +and angelic. Oh! he is most completely gone, my dear Lottie." + +Lottie bit her lip. + +"The nicest and handsomest fellow in London," she murmured. "To be +picked up by a--a slavey! What a beastly shame it is! What a fool he +must be! What's her name?" + +"Margaret Hale," said Austin Ambrose, instantly. "You understand, +Lottie, that I am telling you what I would tell to no one else." + +She nodded. + +"And it's about this you came to see me?" she said. + +"Yes," he said; "I want you to help me save Blair from this folly. Of +course it would ruin him. He would never be able to hold up his head +again." + +"He'd get tired of her in a week. I know him so well," she said, in a +low voice. + +"Exactly. In less than a week, perhaps, and then----" he shrugged his +shoulders. + +"And she would be the Viscountess Leyton, and, of course, the Countess +Ferrers when the old man died?" for Lottie knew her peerage pretty well. + +"Yes, and we must prevent that," he said, looking at her. + +She made an impatient gesture. + +"I don't care about the title, and all that," she said; "why should +I? If he had been going to marry Miss Graham, or any other of the +swells, why--why it would be all right, and I shouldn't complain; but +a servant! Blair, too! Why, he's as proud as Lucifer, really, though +people wouldn't think it! He'd be wretched for life! He'd be fit to cut +his throat a week afterward, and he's too good for that sort of thing." + +There was a pause. She drank some of the stout, for her lips felt dry, +then she said, more to herself than him: + +"Yes, he's far too good! Poor Blair! Why, the very first diamonds I +ever had he gave me. He'd have given me the top brick off the chimney +if I'd asked for it! You won't believe it, because you don't believe +anything, Mr. Ambrose, but I tell you I'd do anything for Lord Blair! I +never told you when I first met him?" + +"No," said Austin Ambrose. + +Lottie took another draught of the stout, and her color came and went. + +"It was when I was singing at the South Audley Music Hall. I wasn't +much of a singer, then, and one night I sang worse than usual; I was +ill too, and out of sorts, and the people--they aren't the most refined +at the South Audley, you know--they cut up rough, and began to hiss +and shout. I was only a slip of a girl, and I got frightened--too +frightened to run off, and one brute of a fellow took up a wineglass +from one of the tables, and flung it at me. I suppose I must have +fainted, for the next thing I remember was finding myself in a young +gentleman's arms. It was Lord Blair. He'd sprung on the stage, and +caught me, and I shall never forget, till the day of my death, the look +on his face as he looked down at them. 'I'll give a sovereign to anyone +who'll keep that fellow in the hall till I come back!' he said, and +though he didn't shout it, you could hear his voice all over the hall. +Then he carried me into the greenroom, and got me some wine, and put me +into a cab, as if I was a lady! Just as if I was a lady, mind! Then he +went back to the hall, and it was a bad time for that brute with the +glass, I expect." + +She paused a minute and caught her lip between her teeth. + +"We didn't meet again for three or four years, and he didn't know me. +I was a woman, then, and he had grown into a man. I dare say he'd +forgotten all about the girl he protected at the South Audley, and I +didn't remind him. But I haven't forgotten it. No!" and she made an +impatient dash at her eyes, as if ashamed of the moisture which had +made them suddenly dim. + +Austin Ambrose listened and watched. + +"That's like Blair," he said. "He's a good fellow." + +"A good fellow!" she exclaimed, almost fiercely; "that's what you say +of any man who is free with his money and can make himself pleasant. +Blair is more than that; he's--he's--" she paused for want of a word, +then wound up emphatically, "he's a gentleman!" + +"Too good a gentleman to be wasted on Miss Margaret Hale!" said Austin +Ambrose, insidiously. + +"Yes!" she assented, as fiercely as before. "What is to be done? I +suppose you have got some plan? You generally have your wits about +you." She paused a moment. "But why are you so keen about this +business?" she inquired, suspiciously. + +"Simply out of pure good nature," he said. "Don't look so incredulous, +my dear Lottie. Permit me to possess some good nature as well as +yourself. Blair and I are old and fast friends. I don't think I ever +told you, but one confidence deserves another, and I will tell you now. +Blair once saved my life. If it had not been for him I should have been +lying at the bottom of the Thames." + +Lottie nodded. + +"They say it's the worst thing you can do for yourself is to save +another person's life. I don't say he saved mine, but he did me a good +turn, and--and--well, I expect now he wishes he had never seen me, and +I dare say he'd have been all the better off if he hadn't. And as for +you--well, Mr. Ambrose, I don't see why you shouldn't want to do him a +good turn." + +"I do," he said. "And I couldn't do him a better than by preventing +this marriage. And now, Lottie, I will tell you plainly that this +marriage can be prevented if you will lend me a hand." + +"How?" she said. + +"Lottie, you are a good actress," he said, slowly; "I always said so, +and I always thought so. I want you to prove it. I have a little plot, +as you surmised, and I want you to play a part in it. It's a difficult +one, but you can play it if you like. And, Lottie, if you _do_ play it +well, why, I'll see what I can do in getting you an engagement at the +Coronet." + +Lottie's face flushed. An engagement at the Coronet was one of the +dramatic prizes. + +"You will? But you needn't take the trouble to bribe me. I don't want +anything for helping Blair out of this mess," she said; "I'll do it +for--for auld lang syne!" + +"That's right, Lottie," he said; "but you shall get your engagement at +the Coronet all the same. And now I'll tell you what I mean to do." + +He leant forward and began to speak in a low, impressive voice, and +Lottie Belvoir listened, her eyes fixed on his face. Suddenly she +started, and turned pale. + +"I say! Isn't that rather--rather strong?" she said. + +"Rather strong?" he murmured, blandly. + +"Rather risky?" she responded. "I--I don't much like it. Seems to me +that it's a part which might land me--well, I don't know where." + +"My dear Lottie, there is no risk, or very little," he said, with a +cool laugh. "What can happen to you?" + +"I don't know; a good many things if I were to be found out," she +retorted. "Especially if Blair found it out!" and her face grew paler. +"You don't know what Blair is when his temper is up. I've seen him, and +probably you haven't." + +"But there will be no need to get in his way," said Austin Ambrose. +"Directly the thing is done, and your part is played, you can get away +for awhile, go to Paris, or where you like. I'll find the money. You +may look upon yourself as engaged to me for a term, just as if I were +manager of a theater." + +Still she hesitated, biting her lip softly and looking at him with +evident apprehension. + +"I don't like it," she said in a low voice. "It--it seems like playing +it very low down on her--and him, too! And if it failed! Good Lord, Mr. +Ambrose!" + +"It will not fail," he said calmly and confidently. "I will take care +that it shall not fail. I'm responsible for this little plot, and from +mere pride in it I shall see that it comes off all right. Where is the +difficulty? You have hardly a dozen lines to speak and a few others to +make up, as the occasion may demand, and your woman's wit, Lottie, will +supply you with those." + +"Oh, that is easy enough," she said, with a wave of her hand. "I could +play the part well enough! I see myself at it now!" and her face +took color and her eyes began to glow. "It is a part I could do to +perfection. And shouldn't be at a loss for gagging if it were needed, +but----" + +"But what?" he said, softly. + +"But I don't fancy it all the same. It's risky and dangerous and----" +she stopped for a moment and looked at his cool, set face keenly. "Mr. +Ambrose, I suppose if I got found out, they could send me to prison?" + +His face did not alter in the slightest. + +"Nonsense!" he said. "Prison! What an absurd notion! Besides, who could +find you out? I'm surprised, Lottie, you should hesitate. I thought you +were a girl of spirit!" + +"I've spirit enough," she said, grimly. "I've spirit enough for most +things. For instance, if a man were to throw a glass at me now, I +shouldn't faint, but I should throw it back at him. But this--well, +this is quite a different thing." + +"It is all in your line," he argued. + +She remained silent, and he leaned back and shrugged his shoulders. + +"Well, I suppose poor Blair will have to drift to the dogs, then? I am +surprised; I must say I am surprised, Lottie. I did think that you were +as good and stanch a friend of his as I am, and I thought I'd only to +tell you the plight in which he stood, and show you how to help one +to save him. I thought you'd jump at it. But never mind. I don't want +to persuade you against your will; but I tell you plainly that if you +won't help me, I shall go to no one else--I shall let things slide. I'm +sorry for Blair; I am, indeed, very sorry, but----" he reached for his +hat. + +"Wait," she said, and her voice sounded dry and troubled, "give me a +minute." + +He leant back and watched her from under his lowered lids, while she +leant her head on her hands, her intelligent face all puckered with +thought. + +Then she looked up suddenly. + +"I'll do it," she said, with sharp decision. + +Austin Ambrose's eyes flashed, then he smiled coolly. + +"Of course you will. I can't think why you should hesitate. Why, my +dear Lottie, no woman of spirit could sit down idly and see an old +flame picked up by a mere nobody of a girl, a kind of servant----" + +"That will do," she broke in, his words affecting her as he intended. +"I've said I'll do it, and I will, let the consequences be what they +may. But mind, you have promised to stand by me?" + +"Certainly I will," he said, promptly, "and you shall have the +engagement at the Coronet, as well as the satisfaction of feeling that +you have saved Blair from ruining his life, and an old title from +disgrace." + +"Hang the title!" she exclaimed, carelessly, "it's Blair I'm thinking +of. And--and when will you want me?" + +"I can't tell you now," he said. "I may want you at any moment, so that +you must hold yourself in readiness. I suppose you will dress the part +carefully?" + +She looked up and smiled. + +"You can trust me to do that," she said. "Wait! Take another cigar; +there's some more whisky there. I won't keep you ten minutes," and she +got up and ran from the room. + +She was scarcely gone more than ten minutes when there came a knock at +the door. + +"Come in," he said, and a fair-haired lady, dressed in black, with a +pale face and dark hollows under her eyes, with quivering lips and +shaking hands, nervously and timidly entered the room. + +Austin Ambrose rose with some surprise and embarrassment. + +"Do you wish to see Miss Belvoir?" he said quietly. + +The lady threw up her hands to her face and broke into passionate sobs; +then suddenly they changed to peals of laughter, and, whipping off her +bonnet and wig, Lottie herself stood before him. + +"Will that do?" she demanded. + +Austin Ambrose nodded emphatic approval. + +"Excellent! You nearly took me in, my dear Lottie, and I was prepared +for you. Capital!" + +"Oh, I can do better than that!" she said, half contemptuously, as she +wiped the paint and powder from her face with her handkerchief. "But +it isn't the make-up I shall rely on so much as the acting. I flatter +myself that I can play the part to a nicety. It mustn't be overdone, +you know; and it mustn't be taken too slowly. Oh, I know! You leave it +to me, Mr. Ambrose!" + +"That's just what I meant to do!" he said. "I place every confidence in +you, my dear Lottie!" + +"And you'll come and see me in prison on visiting days?" she said, with +a smile that was rather serious. + +"Yes," he said, laughing lightly, "I'll come and see you, and bring you +a tract. But all that is nonsense! There is not the slightest risk of +such a thing. Once you have played your part, you shall be off to Paris +and take your fling for a month or two." + +"All this will cost you something," she said, thoughtfully. + +He shrugged his shoulders. + +"It isn't a question of pounds, shillings and pence on such an occasion +as this," he said; "and as to money, I dare say Blair will be only too +glad to pay all the expenses when he comes to his senses, and finds +who it is that has saved him from committing social suicide. He will +owe us a deep debt of gratitude, Lottie." + +"I hope he'll think so," she said, rather doubtfully, and with a +little shudder; "if he shouldn't--well, I don't think Paris will be +far enough off for me, and as for you"--and she smiled strangely and +significantly--"well, I wouldn't care to insure your life, Mr. Austin +Ambrose." + +He laughed as he shook hands with her. + +"My dear Lottie, Blair will know that we have been his best friends, +and will be grateful accordingly. Good-night. Mind, not a word to a +soul!" + +"No," said Lottie, grimly; "I'm not likely to proclaim this business +from the housetops. This is a play that it will be best _not_ to +advertise. Good-night!" + + + + +CHAPTER XII. + + +Margaret had read those lines of Swinburne's: + + "Nothing is better, I well think, + Than love; the hidden well-water + Is not so delicate to drink. + + * * * * * + + "Nothing so bitter, I well know, + Than love; no amber in cold sea, + Or gathered berries under snow," + +and she remembered them; they came floating up through her memory +during the still hours of the night following Lord Blair's passionate +avowal. + +It had taken her so completely by surprise that even yet she had +scarcely realized what this was that had happened to her. + +She had read of love, had painted it, but hitherto she and it had been +perfect strangers; and now--and now all wonderful mysterious sweetness +of it suffused her whole being. "He loves me! he loves me!" she found +herself repeating over and over again in a species of half-unconscious +rapture; and as she murmured the significant words she hid her face in +her hands, and the words he had spoken came surging back on her ears +and in her heart, and she could still feel his hot, passionate kisses +on her hands and hair. + +All the next day she lived like one in a dream. + +She never asked herself whether she had acted wisely or even rightly in +listening to him, or promising to meet him again. Wisdom and propriety +were swamped and overwhelmed by the full tide of love which had taken +possession of her. + +Once there flashed upon her the thought that she ought to tell her +grandmother, but the same instant she felt that it would be impossible. +It would be like sacrilege to utter a word of this new mystery which +she had discovered. Besides, she had not yet given him his answer. It +would be time enough to tell Mrs. Hale after then. + +In the evening she wandered slowly to the glade, and rested on the +spot where she had sat the day before; and there she re-enacted the +whole scene so vividly that she could almost believe that he was really +present, kneeling at her side, and holding her hand. + +With a sigh, she leaned her head on her hand, and tried to think it +out, but she could not think. A great joy, like a great pain, makes +thought impossible. + +The day passed, she scarcely knew how, and the night. She slept some +hours, but her sleep was full of dreams, in which Lord Leyton was the +predominant figure; the handsome face may be said to have hovered about +her pillow; and when she awoke, flushed and quivering, it was to have +the sense of her great joy sweeping over her anew like an overwhelming +flood. + +"Margaret, my dear, you look pale," said Mrs. Hale, at breakfast. "It's +the heat. I wouldn't go painting in the gallery to-day. It's hot there, +and the colors must give you a headache, I should think. If I were you, +I'd go and sit in the woods; there is some shade there, and it's cool, +especially near the cascade." + +Margaret colored furiously. It almost seemed as if Mrs. Hale had got an +inkling of her appointment with Lord Blair. + +"I will go to the woods, grandma," she said; and she put her arm round +the old lady's neck, and laid her soft cheek against the withered one. + +"Yes, my dear," said Mrs. Hale, "you can go there quite safely, for +the earl never walks there even when he does go out, and Lord Leyton's +gone. But you won't disturb the birds, Margaret, will you? Mr. Simpson, +the head keeper, is so particular." + +"No, I will do no harm, grandma," Margaret said, and she got her hat +and went to the woods. + +It was a lovely morning; the birds were singing in full note; the +butterflies were flitting from wild flower to wild flower; the +miniature cascade made a delicious music. But it and the birds seemed +to sing the same song for Margaret. "I love you! I love you!" + +Surely, if she lived to be a hundred, whatever happened in her life, +she should never forget this spot sacred to her in the first passion +that had ever stirred her maiden heart. Always before her eyes in the +future would rise this glade at Leyton woods; always would she hear +the ceaseless babble of the brook, the song of the linnets! + +She had not long to wait. There came a quick, firm step--she knew it so +well, although it had come into her life so recently--and with a spring +like a boy's, Lord Blair was beside her; not only beside her, but on +one knee. + +For a moment he seemed unable to speak, and the color came and went on +his tanned cheek. + +"Do you know," he said with a smile, and in that hushed, lingering +voice which love takes to itself, "all the way I have been tormenting +myself with the dread that you wouldn't come!" + +"I said that I would come!" she said, with downcast eyes. + +"I know! And I ought to have known that you would rather die than break +your word. But I thought that perhaps you would be prevented, that you +might have told some one--Mrs. Hale----" + +"I have told no one," said Margaret, with a sudden feeling of gratitude. + +"That is right," he said; then, as the shadow swept over her face, he +went on quickly--"Not that I should have cared for myself. No! I would +like all the world to know how I love you; not that they could possibly +know that. Not even you can guess at that, Margaret. But I should like +to tell everybody that I love you, and that----But, ah, Margaret, you +haven't told me yet! Are you going to let me stay? Are you going to let +me go on loving you? Dearest, you have not come to be hard and cruel to +me! You will say 'yes?'" and he held out his arms to her. + +Margaret sat silent for a moment, then she raised her eyes; they seemed +heavy with love's mysterious shyness, and she breathed the word that +gave her to him. + +His arms closed round her, and he held her to him with one passionate +kiss until, half frightened, she drew away from him. + +There was silence between them then, and they sat hand in hand in that +communion of spirit which is only permitted to us poor mortals once in +a life. To him she was the embodiment of all that was beautiful and +good! To her he was the epitome of all that was handsome and brave; and +he was to be good also now, for had he not said that her love should be +his salvation? + +After a time they began to talk, as newly-made lovers do talk. Short +little sentences, full of delicious meaning; small nothings, which +represented the sum of all things to them. + +Then Blair said, suddenly: + +"Dearest, you said you had told no one: Mrs. Hale, or any one, about +our meeting?" + +"No," she assented. + +"That was right, Margaret," he said. "I don't want you to tell any one." + +She looked at him trustingly, but with a vague surprise. + +"Do you mind, dear?" he asked. "If so, if you would rather this were +told, we will go together, you and I, and then we will go to the +earl----" + +"No, no," said Margaret, shrinking from such an ordeal, and +longing--girl-like--to keep her delicious secret to herself for a +little longer. + +"It shall be as you wish, dearest," he said, frankly; "but there +are reasons why it would be better for us to say nothing about our +engagement. Look here, Margaret," he went on, earnestly, "I spoke the +truth just now, when I said that I would like to proclaim my happiness +to all the world, but I'm afraid it wouldn't be a good thing to do. It +would be better not to do so, for your sake." + +"For mine?" she said, looking into his dark eyes with a tender +questioning. + +"Yes. I don't want you to lose anything by your goodness to me, dear; +that's natural enough, isn't it? And I am afraid you would lose a great +deal if we declared our engagement." + +"What should I lose?" she asked. + +"You know, dear," he answered, "that I am the heir to my uncle's title +and estates." + +"I know," said Margaret. + +She would not wound him by reminding him that she was the granddaughter +of the earl's housekeeper, and penniless. + +"Well, that's very good; and I wish I were the King of England, that +I could make you the queen, Madge," he said, with a smile. "But in +addition to the title and estates, mine uncle has a great deal of +money, and if he likes he can leave that to us, or to anybody else." + +"To us?" said Margaret. "To you." + +"I and you are one, dear," he said, simply. "Now, so far as I am +concerned, I don't care a fig for the money; but I don't think I ought +to rob you of it." + +"And I care less than a fig!" she said, smiling. + +His face cleared from the faint shadow which had dwelt upon it while he +had been speaking. + +"You don't! Madge, you don't know how glad you make me! I might have +known that you would not care about it! Let it go! I would rather let +a million slip than there should be any concealment! We'll go and tell +him at once--or I'll go, and fetch you afterward. I knew you'd say so, +even while Austin was advising me!" + +"Austin? Who is Austin?" she asked. + +"What an idiot I am!" he exclaimed, with a laugh. "I am talking as if +you knew everybody I know, and everything I know! You see, it seems as +if I had known you for years, and that we had been one since we were +boy and girl!" + +She laid her hand timidly on his head, and lovingly smoothed the black, +clustered hair. + +"Austin is Austin Ambrose," he went on; "the best fellow in the world. +He is the greatest friend I have, Madge, and I want you to like him +awfully." + +"I like him already if he is a friend of yours--Blair," she said. + +His face flushed as she let his name fall from her lips for the first +time. + +"He is a great, a true friend," he said. "I was lucky enough to be on +the spot when he got the cramp, bathing, and I lugged him out, and the +foolish fellow can't forget it." + +"How very foolish," said Margaret. "You saved his life, Blair?" + +"So he says; but he makes the most of it. Anyway, we have been fast +friends ever since, and--you won't mind, Madge?--I told him how I had +met and fallen in love with you. I was bound to tell some one or go +mad, and I have always told him everything." + +"I do not mind--why should I?" said Margaret, smiling. "And I had no +one to tell." + +"Poor Margaret!" he murmured, smiling up at her tenderly. + +"And what did Mr. Austin Ambrose say? What a pretty name it is--almost +as pretty as Blair Leyton." + +"Well, he was awfully pleased, of course," said Blair. "Anything that +pleases me pleases him." + +"I shall be a little jealous," murmured Margaret. + +He laughed. + +"You needn't be. Not even Austin could come between you and me, +dearest," he said. "He was awfully pleased, and--and all that, but he +thought of this property. He is one of those cute, long-headed fellows, +you know, darling, who are always looking to the future, and it was he +who wanted us to keep it secret." + +"He knows that I am so unfit, so unworthy," said Margaret, in a low +voice, and with a sudden pang. + +Blair's face flushed, and he looked up at her reproachfully. + +"Don't ever say that, Madge," he pleaded; "it hurts me." + +"Forgive me, Blair," she whispered. "But he did think so, did he not?" + +"I don't care what he thought," he said, firmly. "And whatever he +thought, he will have only one idea when he sees you, and that is that +you are a thousand, a million times too good for me." + +"Poor Blair," she murmured. + +"And, Margaret, I want you to see him very soon. I want you to feel +that he is your friend as well as mine." He paused for a moment, then +went on--"Madge, he is down at Leyton now." + +"At Leyton now--here?" said Margaret with momentary surprise. + +Blair nodded. + +"Yes. He was so anxious to see you, that I asked him to come down with +me. Shall I tell you why I did so?" + +"Yes," said Margaret. A strange feeling, scarcely of dread--how could +it be?--had crept over her. "Tell me everything." + +"Everything!" he repeated emphatically. "From this moment I will not +have a thought you shall not share, dearest. Well, then, I didn't know +what your answer would be, Madge, and I felt so afraid of myself; I +know what a stupid idiot I am when I want to say anything and can't, +that I brought him to plead for me if it should be necessary." + +"It was not necessary," she murmured, and he kissed her hand. + +"He held out at first, and wouldn't hear of coming, but I persuaded him +at last; poor old Austin can't refuse me anything, and so he came with +me. He is waiting at the stile, in case you will condescend to see him." + +Margaret shrank a little. She could not guess that though Lord Blair +fully believed that it was he who had persuaded Austin Ambrose to come +against his will, it had really been Austin's own suggestion artfully +made. + +"I will do as you wish, Blair," she said. "Yes," she added quickly, "I +will see him." + +After all, she could not even seem to be cold to her lover's closest +friend! + +Blair sprung to his feet. + +"He will be so glad, Margaret!" he said. "He is the best fellow in the +world, and the wisest; and he is dreadfully afraid that you may not +like him." + +"Bring him, and I will put him out of his misery," said Margaret with +her divine smile. "Do you think that I should not love all you love, +and hate all you hate, Blair?" + +"You are an angel!" he said, looking at her; "yes, that is what you +are!" + +She put her hands against his breast and pushed him gently away from +her. + +"Go and fetch him," she said, and he strode away. + +Austin Ambrose was seated on the stile, smoking a cigarette. He greeted +Blair with a nod and a smile. + +"Well, my Adonis! Well, my Corydon! Have you come to tell me that the +beloved mistress declines to see the intruder?" + +"Ah, you don't know her yet, old fellow!" said Lord Blair, with all a +lover's pride. "She has sent me to bring you to her at once! My friends +shall be her friends, and you, Austin, shall rank first." + +Austin Ambrose flung his cigarette away and smiled. + +"Then she has made you a happy man, Blair? All doubts dispelled, eh?" + +"She has made me the happiest man in all the world," said Blair, almost +solemnly. + +"At any rate, she is good-natured," said Ambrose. "Most women would +have sent me to the right-about----" + +"Not Margaret! not Margaret!" broke in Blair. "Wait till you see her +and hear her talk, old fellow!" + +"Well, I sha'n't have to wait long," he said, as he caught sight of +Margaret's dress. + +The next moment he stood before her. + +Mr. Austin Ambrose was a man who had raised the art of concealing his +emotions and his thoughts to a positive science; therefore he neither +started nor uttered an exclamation as his eye fell upon Margaret Hale; +but a swift and sharp surprise and astonishment went through him like +the stab of a dagger. + +She had risen at the sound of their footsteps, and stood upright before +him in all her beauty, and with all her infinite grace; and instead of +the pretty, hoidenish, middle-class young woman he had pictured, Austin +Ambrose found himself confronted by a girl who was not only lovely, but +refined, and, in short--a lady! + +And Margaret? For a moment she was conscious of a feeling of repulsion, +of dread, and almost of dislike, but she fought it down, and instead of +responding to his respectful and almost reverential inclination with a +formal bow, she held out her hand. + +"This is very good, very gracious of you, Miss Hale! To accept the +acquaintance of a stranger so suddenly----" + +"No friend of Lord Blair's must be a stranger to me," she said, with a +blush. + +Blair took her hand and kissed it, and he looked at Austin Ambrose +triumphantly. + +"Thank you, thank you," murmured Austin, as if deeply touched. Then +after a pause, with a look of respectful admiration, "Miss Hale, I can +understand Blair's fascination, he should indeed be the happiest man in +England this June morning!" + +Margaret blushed still more vividly, and Blair colored, too, but with +pleasure. + +"I forgot to tell you, Madge," he said, "that Austin is a perfect dab +at fine speeches." + +"And a martyr to truth," said Austin Ambrose. "And are you sure that +you can quite forgive me for intruding this morning?" + +"There is nothing to forgive, I am very glad," Margaret said, simply. + +Blair drew her gently to her old seat, and then threw himself at her +feet. Austin Ambrose seated himself on the bank a little above and in +front of them. + +"Lord Blair and I are such old friends, Miss Hale," he said, "that I +suppose neither of us would think of doing anything important without +consulting each other. Not that Blair has consulted me," he added, +quickly. "He had made up his mind before he spoke to me, and would not +have dreamed of consulting Solomon himself if he had been alive. And I +think he was right!" + +"Two very outspoken compliments," said Blair laughing with pleasure. +"And it's a poor return, old fellow, to tell you that we have made up +our minds not to take your advice. I am going to send an announcement +of our engagement to the society papers to-night--after I have seen my +uncle." + +Austin Ambrose nodded and smiled as if he were rather pleased than +otherwise. + +"That is delightful!" he said, genially. "Lovers should always be +imprudent. Yes, I like the idea very much." + +Margaret glanced from the clear-cut, self-possessed face to Blair's +handsome, careless one, and her eyes grew troubled. + +"Is it so imprudent?" she said softly. + +"Very, deliciously so!" said Austin, laughing. "And that is why I like +it. Lovers should always be unwise and reckless. It is, as Doctor Watts +observed, 'their nature to!' Miss Hale, I have one weak spot, amongst +many, and you will discover it presently, I dare say. I am foolishly +romantic. Anything in the shape of sentiment conquers me directly. I +assure you that when Blair came and told me that he had met and lost +his heart to the most beautiful young lady in the world, I felt as if I +had lost mine, and I was as anxious--well, _nearly_ as anxious, as he +was to learn whether he was to be the happiest or the most miserable of +men." + +Blair laughed, Margaret smiled, but she was fighting against the +strange repulsion which grew more distinct with every word the supple +lips uttered. + +"Yes," he went on. "And the idea of your going hand in hand to the earl +and saying, 'My lord, we mean to be married. We don't care whether +you like it or not, we defy you. You may leave us your immense wealth +or you may bequeath it to the Home for Lost Dogs, we don't care. We +love each other, and that is enough. My lord, good-morning!' Now, +that is delightful! It is imprudent, it is reckless, and--and--well, +yes--foolish; but it is so charming, so perfectly romantic, that I +can't help admiring it." + +Margaret's eyes grew more troubled. Blair smiled no longer. + +"I say, Austin!" he expostulated. + +Austin Ambrose held up his finger. + +"No, no! I won't hear a word said against it. I have a distinct +conviction that the whole romance--and what a charming romance it +is!--would be completely spoiled by one word of wisdom, and I am very +sorry that I ever uttered one! Here, in Miss Hale's presence, I make +full recantation, and implore her forgiveness for ever having harbored +one sordid thought concerning her. Let the earl's fortune go to the +winds!" and he waved his hand dramatically. "With Miss Hale's love, my +dear Blair, you will be the richest man in England, although you should +be the poorest peer." + +"You are right," exclaimed Blair, pressing Margaret's hand. "Those +are the truest words you ever spoke, old fellow! Eh, Margaret?" he +whispered. + +She sat silently looking at Austin Ambrose's face. + +Though he had not said so in so many words, he had as good as told +her that by marrying Lord Blair she would deprive him of his uncle's +fortune. + +The color came and went in her face, her eyes grew downcast, while both +men looked at her; Blair with loving adoration, Austin Ambrose with a +covert and concealed intentness. + +At last she looked up--at Blair, not at Austin Ambrose. + +"It must not be known," she said in a low voice. + +"Margaret!" exclaimed Blair, astonished; but Austin Ambrose, watching +her eyes, gave a slight, a very slight, nod of approval. + +"No," she said. "Mr. Ambrose is--is right! You shall not make such a +sacrifice for me, Blair." Her face flushed, her eyes shone with the +fire of a woman's resolution to sacrifice herself rather than injure +the man she loves. "We--we will not tell any one!" + +Austin Ambrose raised his hat, and looked at her with a fine assumption +of admiration. + +"That was nobly spoken, Miss Hale," he said gravely, "nobly and wisely. +I am too much Blair's friend, and yours, if you will permit me, to +conceal my anxiety on your account. You would sacrifice not his future +alone, but yours, for it would be yours, you know, by doing anything +rash. The earl is an eccentric old gentleman, and easily offended. It +would be worse than folly to do so. You have made a wise decision, Miss +Hale, and you have added respect to my admiration!" and he bowed. + +"Well!" exclaimed Blair, half amused, half annoyed. "You two are beyond +me! Why, half an hour ago, Madge, you were aghast at our keeping our +engagement secret, and now----" + +"Miss Hale had not considered the matter in all its bearings," broke +in Austin Ambrose, gently and smoothly. "Trust me, Blair, she has more +sense in her little finger than you have in all your great, hulking +body." + +"I know that," said Blair, with a good-humored laugh. "You've found it +out already, have you? Didn't I tell you that she was as clever as she +was beautiful? My Margaret!" + +"Your Margaret is far too clever to let you say such silly things!" +murmured Margaret, blushing. + +Austin Ambrose rose and smiled down upon them, and his cold eyes seemed +to grow really benevolent, as if he were blessing them. + +"I will go now," he said. "Miss Hale, this has been a happy day for me, +as well as for Blair. He has found a sweetheart, and I have found, I +trust, a friend. May I say that?" he asked, as he held out his hand. + +"Yes," said Margaret, trying to speak heartily. + +He took her hand and raised it to his lips. + +"Then you must let me prove myself one. You are both young, and +perfectly imprudent. You must promise to do nothing without coming to +me first. This is all I ask. Is it too much?" + +"Not a bit, old fellow!" said Blair, promptly, showing his delight at +the impression Margaret had made upon the wise and critical Austin +Ambrose. "We are a couple of spoons, you know, and not fit to be +trusted to act alone, eh?" + +"Honestly, I don't think you are," said Austin Ambrose, smilingly. + +"All right!" said Blair. "We've taken your advice--at least Margaret +has--and the least you can do, having accepted the responsibility, is +to see us squarely through, eh?" + +Austin Ambrose nodded. + +"Yes," he said, simply. "I'll go and see if the dog-cart is ready, and +drive it to the end of the lane. You will find me there. You have no +idea the precautions we have taken, Miss Margaret," he added, with a +smile. "We just drew the line at coming down in disguise! Good-bye!" +and with a wave of his hand he pushed through the underwood and left +them. + +He stopped at a distance of a hundred yards to get a cigarette, and +was putting it to his mouth with a smile of cynical satisfaction, as +he thought of the way in which he had gained his point, when his quick +eyes saw something moving at a little distance between him and the spot +where he had left the lovers. + +He thought it was a rabbit at first, but looking intently he saw it was +a man's fur cap. + +"A cap doesn't move without a head in it," he murmured, and putting his +cigarette in his pocket, he made a detour round some trees and crept +close to the object. + +As he did so he saw a man was lying full length in the long bracken, +through which he had made a clearing just before his face, so that he +could watch Blair and Margaret. Austin Ambrose grew interested, and +crept a little nearer. + +Poachers do not work in the daytime, and besides, this man had no gun, +but a thick stick lay near his hand. + +Austin Ambrose watched him thoughtfully, then a look of intelligence +flashed into his face. Blair had described the man he had thrashed on +Leyton Green; this was he, this was Jem Pyke! Amongst Austin Ambrose's +great gifts was a faculty of never forgetting a face or a name. + +Lowering himself noiselessly, he sat down just behind the man, and +after waiting a minute or two, coughed slightly. + +The man looked round with a start, then sprung to his feet and grasped +his stick. + +Mr. Ambrose looked him squarely in the face. + +"Don't speak a word, my friend, or I shall call," he said. + +Pyke looked uncertain, and then made ready for a spring; but the cold +eyes--and they were like glittering steel now--held him fascinated. + +"Not a word," said Austin, in a low, distinct voice, "unless you want +another thrashing, Mr. Pyke!" + +Jem Pyke started, and he lowered the stick. + +For a moment the two men looked into each other's faces, then, with +a smile, Austin got up leisurely and sauntered off, beckoning him to +follow. + +Austin Ambrose led the way until they had gone out of hearing of +Blair and Margaret, then he sat down on a fallen tree, and lighting a +cigarette, coolly and critically surveyed the captive. + +"I'm rather curious to know what you were doing just now, my man," he +said, when he had finished his examination. + +"I was watching for a rabbit," replied Pyke, promptly but sullenly, and +without looking up. + +Austin Ambrose smiled. + +"Oblige me by looking at me," he said. + +Pyke raised his eyes slowly. + +"Thanks. Do I look like a fool?" demanded Austin Ambrose, politely. + +"No," replied Pyke, reluctantly, and with an oath. + +"Thanks again, though your language is unnecessarily emphatic. Then, +not being a fool, how do you expect me to believe you? Shall I tell you +what you were doing?" + +No reply, but Pyke shifted one leg uneasily. + +"You were watching my friend, Lord Blair. I am right, I think? Silence +denotes assent. Thanks," suavely; "and why were you watching him?" + +Pyke, tortured as much by the tone as the question, growled out an +imprecation under his breath. + +"Shall I tell you? Because you are anxious to get a little revenge +for that beating he gave you. Am I right? Thanks again. I am good at +guessing, you see. And as you can't pay him back in a fair stand-up +fight you are hoping later for an opportunity to give him one in the +back. Y--es," slowly and suavely, "I think that is the whole case in a +nutshell. Now, my friend, you _are_ a fool." + +Pyke raised his eyes and scowled evilly, and Austin Ambrose shook his +head and smiled. + +"No use scowling, my friend. I know what you are feeling, and I can +sympathize with you; I can indeed. It is so unpleasant to be caught, +isn't it? And it is so tempting to see me sitting here without even a +stick, and to know that you could dispose of me so easily, if my friend +with the big fists that you felt so lately were not within call." + +Pyke's face grew livid, and he grasped his stick till the veins started +out like string in his wiry and sunburnt hands. + +"Curse you!" he snarled at last. "Who are you, and what do you want?" + +"Gently," said his tormentor. "One question at a time, and though +you don't put them politely, I'll give you a true answer. My name is +Ambrose--Austin Ambrose. Say it over to yourself once or twice, and +you won't forget it. And what do I want? Well, I want a strong, active +young ruffian like you, a man who has pluck enough to remember an +injury and burns to pay it back. And that's your case again, isn't it?" + +He lit his cigarette, and blew a ring in the air, and watched it until +it had faded away. + +"And now I'll explain why you are a fool. You are a fool because you +lay in wait with a big stick to bang your enemy about the head. No one +but a fool would do that, my dear Pyke; firstly, because he might not +hurt his enemy----" + +Jem Pyke scowled fearfully. + +"Well, yes, you might hurt him, but--and that brings me to my +secondly--you couldn't do it without its being traced to you. There +might be a struggle, there would be blood and other unpleasant traces, +and, all Lombard Street to a china orange, the police would have you by +the heels before an hour was passed, and then----!" The speaker wound +up the sentence by a playful gesture indicative of strangulation. + +Pyke's face was a study. At first, from hate and the desire to crush +his tormentor it displayed the emotion of murder, and then a reluctant +admiration; and at last he stood, the stick hanging loosely in his +hand, his small, evil eyes fixed with a fascinated stare on his +companion's face. + +"I am right, you see," said Austin Ambrose. "Now, if I owed a man a +grudge--I don't, I am happy to say, for I have not an enemy in the +world, my dear Pyke--but if I owed a man a grudge, I shouldn't set to +work in your clumsy fashion. No; I shouldn't dog him and knock him +about the head just outside my own door, because I should feel assured +that the police would track me down. No; I should wait until he had +got some distance off--to London, for instance, or another part of the +country--and then, some dull evening, I should bring him down with a +gun or a pistol from a safe distance, and then quietly"--he blew a +cloud of smoke into the air and pointed to it--"vanish!" + +The man stood and listened with every sense on the alert, absorbed and +rapt. + +Then he drew a long breath. + +"That's what you'd do, guv'nor, is it?" he said at last, hoarsely. + +Austin Ambrose nodded. + +"Yes. And if I had a friend who could point out to me my best way of +doing it, and help me to choose the time and place, why, I should feel +very grateful to that friend." + +Pyke looked somewhat mystified for a moment, then he started, and a +look of cunning flashed from his eyes. + +"Why, you hate him, too, guv'nor!" he exclaimed, hoarsely, with an oath. + +Austin Ambrose looked at him and smiled. + +"After all, you are _not_ such a fool as you looked, my friend," he +said. + +Pyke stood eying him stealthily and curiously, then he slapped his knee +cautiously. + +"I've got it!" he said with a leer. "He's after your girl, guv'nor!" + +Austin Ambrose smiled again. + +"You are really an intelligent person, Mr. Pyke," he said, suavely. +"And now that we understand each other--and we do, I think?" + +Pyke swore horribly for assent. + +"Exactly. Then I think we had better part. Take my advice, and +don't--watch for rabbits any more! Go home and rest until your friend +sends you word that the time has come to pay back old scores. When he +does so, well--be ready, _and strike home_!" + +"I will!" Pyke declared, setting his teeth. + +Austin Ambrose flung his cigarette away. + +"Poaching is a hard trade," he murmured, looking up at the sky, which +shone blue as a turquois through the trees. "One should pity the poor +fellow who is driven to it, rather than condemn him. There, my poor +man, take this small coin and find some honest work. You are strong and +able, get some employment. Believe me, honesty is the best policy!" And +he held out a sovereign. + +Pyke took it, examined it, and put it in his pocket. But he stood +still, waiting like a well-trained hound, for further orders. + +Suddenly Austin Ambrose raised his hand and pointed to the road. + +"Go!" he said sternly. + +Pyke started, just as a dog would start, fingered his fur cap, and +muttering, "Yes, guv'nor, yes," disappeared. + +Austin Ambrose remained seated for some minutes, his brows knitted, his +eyes fixed on the ground, then he murmured: + +"Yes, I shall win this! Everything goes with me! Everything! It is a +bold game, but I shall win it! A man gets all the trump cards dealt +him, or breaks the bank at faro, once in a lifetime; it is his one +chance! This is mine! Even this country clown makes one. Yes, I shall +win, and then, Violet! and then----" + +He walked quickly through the wood. The dog cart he and Blair had +engaged was waiting, and he dismissed the boy who was holding the +horse. They had driven from Harefield, the nearest large town, to which +they had come by rail, and were going to drive back and take the return +train there. + +As he had said, they had taken every precaution to keep their visit a +secret. + +After he had been waiting five or ten minutes, Blair came striding +toward him. He was rather pale and very quiet, and signed to Austin to +drive. + +"I should drive you into a ditch," he said; "my hands are all shaky! +Austin, she is an angel!" and his voice was shaky, whatever his hands +may have been. + +"Meaning Miss Margaret? She is better than an angel! She is a lovely +and a charming lady," said Austin Ambrose. + +"Isn't she?" exclaimed Lord Blair. "Austin, I did not exaggerate?" + +"No; you did not even do her justice! I never saw a more beautiful and +bewitching young creature! I don't wonder at your infatuation." + +"Infatuation! I don't like the word. Infatuation is not love, and I +love her more than ever a man loved yet, I think." + +"And you are right," said Austin Ambrose, emphatically. "Blair, my boy, +you are in luck. I'm not given to raving about women, but, upon my +word, I could do a little raving about Miss Margaret!" + +"Rave away, then!" said Blair, bluntly. "You won't bore me. Ah, Austin! +if you knew how I hate all this secrecy and deception! I tell you I +hate it! Why should not I declare my love for her to all the world? I +tried to persuade her to let me go to the earl after you had left us, +but she wouldn't let me." + +"You are a fool!" burst from Austin Ambrose's lips; then, as Blair +looked at him with astonishment, he added quickly, "I beg your pardon, +Blair; but it does make me mad to see you so bent upon destroying that +sweet girl's future in the way that you propose to do. Why, man, what +harm does it do her or you keeping it quiet for awhile? The earl is +an old man, any year--a month, a day--he may die, and then--why, then +you may tell all the world, when you have got his money safe at your +banker's for you and your wife and children! Miss Margaret is more +sensible than you." + +"Yes, after she had heard you," said Blair, slowly. "Well, I suppose +it's the best thing to do, but I hate it, all the same. Though, after +all, I don't care; it's enough for me to know she loves me." + +There was silence for a moment, then Austin Ambrose said smoothly: + +"If I were you, Blair, I should secure that beautiful creature as soon +as possible." + +"What do you mean?" demanded Blair, awaking from a reverie. + +"I should marry her." + +The hot blood mounted to Lord Blair's face, then left it pale. + +"If she would," he murmured, in a low voice. + +"Oh, yes, she would," said Austin Ambrose, in a quiet tone of +confidence. "I think I could help you to that, Blair. Honestly, I think +her such a treasure that, if I were in your place, I should never rest +easy for a day until she were mine! A prince might long to make her his +consort! To tell you the truth, I am as bewitched as you are. I had +expected to see--well, I won't tell you what, but I will tell you what +I did see, a lovely girl, who was not only lovely, but a refined and +gifted lady. Marry her, Blair, and at once!" + +"I'd marry her to-morrow if she'd let me," said Blair hotly; then he +relapsed into silence, and Austin Ambrose was content to let the seed +he had dropped take root. + +"Will you come to the club and dine with me?" he said, when they walked +home. Lord Blair shook his head. + +"No, thanks, old fellow," he said. "I want to be alone. Don't think me +a bear." + +"No, no, I understand," said Austin Ambrose, as he shook hands; "go and +dream of Margaret, and remember what I say, my dear fellow. A prize +like that is never too quickly secured." + +Blair wandered to his rooms, to pace up and down his sitting-room, and +think over every word Margaret had said. Austin Ambrose went to his +chambers, and having dressed carefully and leisurely, dined luxuriously +at his club, and at half-past ten called a cab and had himself driven +to Lady Marabout's, who had an "evening" that night. Lady Marabout's +rooms were filled to overflowing when he entered, and he had to make +his way through a crush that extended as far as the hall and stairs; +but in his cool and leisurely fashion he reached the principal saloon +at last, and having shaken hands with the hostess, who greeted him with +a brave though tired smile, he bent his steps toward a small crowd that +surrounded some favored person at the end of the room. + +The favored person was Violet Graham, the heiress. The dragoon, Colonel +Floyd, the Marquis of Aldmere, and other well-known men were round +her--one holding her fan, another proffering her an ice, and a third +looking over her ball _carte_ in the hope of finding a vacant space; +and she leant back on the settee smiling absently, and listening, "with +half an ear," to their compliments and flattery. + +Austin Ambrose made his way to her slowly, his opera hat under his arm, +his clean-cut face serene and perfectly self-possessed. + +"Is the dancing all over, or just begun?" he said, as he inclined his +head before her. "I am too late for anything, I suppose?" + +Nothing could have been cooler or more matter-of-fact than his words, +or the tone in which they were uttered; but she looked up with a sudden +flush. + +"I don't dance the next; it is a square dance," she said. "Take me to +some cool place--if there is a cool place, Mr. Ambrose!" + +He held out his arm, and to the mortification of her circle of +courtiers, he led her away. + +"Confound that fellow Ambrose!" muttered Colonel Floyd. "Why couldn't +she ask me to take her into the conservatory?" + +"Or me?" muttered two or three others, as they sauntered away +ill-temperedly. + +Austin Ambrose led her into the conservatory and placed her in a seat, +then he broke off a palm-leaf and fanned her patiently, as if it were +his sole mission on earth. + +"Well?" she said, and it was the first word she had addressed to him +since her greeting. + +He smiled, a confident smile. + +"Meaning our friend Blair?" + +"Yes, yes," she said, impatiently. "Where is he? What is he doing? He +was invited to-night. I came expecting him to be here." + +He smiled again. + +"Don't be impatient. At present our friend Blair shuns the revel and +the dance----" + +She flashed her eyes upon him angrily. + +"You have seen him?" + +"Yes," he said. "I have seen him. He is still infatuated over his +dairymaid. But don't be alarmed. I have nipped that little affair in +the bud, I think." + +"You have?" she exclaimed, with a quick glance. + +"Quite," he said, easily. "Before a week is passed you will find him at +your feet again." + +"Can I trust you?" she murmured. + +He shrugged his shoulders. + +"As much as one can trust another seeing that, according to the latest +novelist, we are all Judases. But you can trust me. This affair of +Blair's will end in smoke, believe me." + +Violet Graham drew a long breath. + +"Remember!" she panted. "Put a stop to this--this madness of his, and I +will give you anything you can ask!" + +"I shall not forget," he said. "Let me take you back now." + + + + +CHAPTER XIII. + + +Margaret was living in an earthly paradise. Existence, indeed, was more +like a beautiful dream to her than the gray and sober reality it is to +most of us. + +To be loved is a nice thing, a grand thing, a fact which gilds even the +most prosaic life and makes it bright; but to be loved by such a man +as Lord Blair--so handsome, so brave, so devoted, and so passionately +and entirely hers! It passed all saying, as the Italians put it; and +Margaret's days were full of sweetness and joy; for if he did not see +her every day, he managed to come down three or four times a week, and +they met in stolen interviews at the cascade, or in the deeper recesses +of the woods. + +And Blair--Blair, who had gained for himself the reputation of the most +fickle young man in London--seemed more deeply in love every time they +parted. + +If Margaret had been the scheming girl, aiming at the Ferrers' coronet, +which Austin Ambrose at first imagined her, she could not have gone +more cleverly to work to secure Lord Blair Leyton. + +Once or twice he had brought her down some presents, a ring at first, a +bracelet the next time, but Margaret would not accept them. + +"I will take nothing I cannot wear, Blair," she said. "Pick this bunch +of honeysuckle for me, and I will put it in my hair; I like that better +than all your jewels." + +But the third time he brought her a locket. Its face was a mass of +pearls, with one large and costly diamond sparkling in the center. + +"You can wear this, dearest," he said pleadingly. + +"Yes, I can wear that," she said in the soft, melting voice, which used +to echo in his ears long after he had left her and was up in town. "I +can wear that," and she tied it by her ribbon round her neck and hid it +away in her bosom. "No one can see that, and I can take it out----" + +"Off?" he said. + +"No, sir," she corrected him, blushing; "I shall not take it off again, +but I shall take it out whenever I am likely to forget you." + +"Don't say that, even in fun, Madge," he said in a low voice, and +with a sudden look of pain. "I can't bear to think of you forgetting +me. Why, if I were dead, and you were walking near my grave----" he +stopped; and she murmured the well-known song: + + "Were it ever so airy a tread, + My heart would hear her and beat, + Were it earth in an earthy bed; + My dust would hear her and beat, + Had I lain for a century dead; + Would start and tremble under her feet, + And blossom in purple and red." + +"That's it!" he said, approvingly and admiringly. "What a memory you +have got, Madge. Is it Shakespeare?" + +"No; Tennyson," and she smiled. "What an ignorant boy it is!" + +"Ain't I?" he said, with a laugh. "Austin often says that the things I +know would go into half a sheet of note-paper, and the things I don't +would more than fill the reading-room at the British Museum. But one +thing I know, Madge, and that is that I love you with all my heart and +soul." + +"I'll forgive you all the rest!" she murmured. + +She was painting the picture the earl had commissioned, and she took up +her brush and palette and worked, while Blair sat at her side, watching +her with an admiring wonder, as the skillful hand conveyed the little +bushy dell to the canvas. + +"What a fuss they'll make about you when we are married," he said, +after a pause. + +Margaret bent forward to hide the blush which the words had called up. + +"Who are they? And why should they make a fuss?" she asked. + +"They? Oh, all the people, you know. They'll make no end of you, Madge. +You see, you are so good-looking----" + +She threatened him with her wet brush. + +--"And then you are so clever, and this painting of yours will just +finish them off. I shouldn't wonder if you are the leading item in the +next season." + +"The next season!" echoed Margaret, turning her eyes upon him. + +He colored and looked rather guilty; then he raised his eyes to hers +boldly. + +"Yes, next season. You are going to marry me soon, you know, Madge!" + +"Soon?" she repeated dreamily. "Two years, five years hence will be +soon." + +"Oh, will it?" he remarked, aghast. "Why, Madge, Austin says we ought +to be married next month." + +Margaret almost dropped her pencil, and stared at him; then her eyelids +fell, and the warm color spread over her face and neck. + +"And yet you are always boasting that Austin Ambrose never talks +nonsense!" she said, with gentle irony. + +"But is it such nonsense, dear?" he urged, putting his arm around +her waist, and looking up at her downcast face. "I don't think it +is nonsense at all! If you knew how long even a few weeks seem to +me--but I don't put it that way. But, remember, my darling, that this +is all very well down here; I can run down and spend some hours with +you--how short they seem, heigh ho!--but you will be going to London +directly----" + +"Directly I have finished this picture--next week," she put in gently. + +"So soon?" he said, sadly. "Well then we sha'n't be able to see so much +of each other; at least, Austin says we mustn't." + +"Mr. Austin says so?" + +He nodded. + +"Yes; he is more anxious than ever that our engagement should be kept +secret, and every time he sees me he talks and lectures me about it. +'He's such a careful man,' as the song says," and he laughed. + +Margaret remained silent. What would the days be like in hot and dusty +London if she were not to see Blair, not to hear the voice she loved +murmuring its passionate devotion in her ears! Her bosom rose with a +soft sigh. + +"I suppose he is right--yes, he _is_ right," she said. "And we shall +meet, if we do meet, as strangers, Blair? But we sha'n't meet, shall +we?" + +"You are talking nonsense now," he chided her. "Of course we shall. I +can take you up the river, up to Cookham and Pangbourne. How delightful +it will be!" + +"And some of your grand friends will see us, and then----" + +"Oh, we'll chance that!" he said, lightly. + +"We must chance nothing that may do you an injury, Blair," she said, +gravely. + +"Oh, Austin will take care that we do nothing imprudent," he said. "He +has taken our case in hand, as he says, and we can't do better than put +ourselves under his charge. You must paint some of our Thames views, +Madge. You must paint one for me. By George! my uncle has got more +mother wit in his little finger than I have in the whole of my body! +Why didn't _I_ give you a commission for a picture the first moment I +knew you were an artist!" + +"I shouldn't have accepted it," she said, smiling down at him. "But +I'll paint you a picture, Blair; I will do it after I have finished +this. Business must be attended to, you know, my lord." + +He laughed. + +"I wonder what he'll give you for that, Madge?" he said. "He ought to +give you a hundred pounds. It's worth it. I'd give you a thousand if +you'd let me." + +"You'd ruin yourself, we all know," she said lightly, scarcely paying +any heed to what she said, then as she saw him wince she dropped her +brush and put her arm round his neck penitently. + +"Oh, Blair, I meant nothing!" she murmured. + +"I know, I know, dearest!" he said gravely. "But your light words +reminded me of the fool I have been. But that is all altered now. +Do you know that I have not made a single bet since--since you gave +yourself to me? No! And I'm living as steady an existence as that man +who always went home to tea. Austin says it won't and can't last; but +we shall see." + +It was always Austin. Scarcely ten sentences without his name cropping +up. + +"I don't see why Mr. Ambrose should discourage you, Blair," she +said, smiling. "But you can prove him in the wrong all the more +triumphantly," she added. + +He laughed as he kissed her, telling her that she was his good angel, +and that while she would continue to love him he was all right; but +when he had gone, and she sat listening to his departing footsteps, she +pondered over Austin Ambrose's words. + +The next two days she worked hard at her picture, and on the third day +finished it. + +"What shall I do, grandma?" she said to Mrs. Hale. "I am going to +London to-morrow, you know. Shall I send the picture from there, or +give it to Mr. Stibbings to take to his lordship?" + +"Give it to Mr. Stibbings," said Mrs. Hale, "with your dutiful respects +and compliments, my dear." + +Margaret gave the picture to Mr. Stibbings, but with her compliments +only, and presently that important functionary returned. + +Would Miss Hale honor the earl by joining him in the picture gallery? + +Margaret went at once, and found him standing before her picture, +which he had caused to be placed on an easel in the best lighted part +of the gallery. + +He held out his hand, and bowed to her with a kindly smile. + +"You have painted a beautiful little sketch for me, Miss Hale," he +said. "One I shall often look upon with pleasure and delight. And you +have done it quickly, too, but not carelessly--no, no!" + +Margaret murmured a few words in acknowledgment of his graciousness, +and he went on: + +"There is a career before you, my dear Miss Hale! You are one of the +fortunate ones of this earth! Great gifts--great gifts"--and he looked +at her absently; then he sighed and roused himself again--"but don't +waste them, my child! I hope you are enjoying yourself here?" + +"Very much, my lord," said Margaret. "I leave to-morrow," and she +sighed faintly. + +"To-morrow! So soon?" he said. "And you go back to London? I hope +you will pay the Court another visit soon! I must speak to Mrs. Hale +concerning it! Will you wait a moment or two?" and he drew a chair +forward before he left the gallery. + +Margaret sat and waited. How happy she had been! and yet if he only +knew the cause of her happiness! If he could but guess that it was +because she had won the love of his nephew, the Viscount Leyton. + +She felt guilty and ill at ease, and when he returned, and approaching +her with a smile, pressed some bank-notes into her hand, she began to +tremble, and the tears rushed to her eyes. + +"No thanks, my dear," he said. "Tut, tut! You must not wear your heart +upon your sleeve, or daws will peck at it. You have no cause for +gratitude; it is I who should and do feel grateful to you. Good-bye. +May Heaven watch over you and make you happy, my dear!" It was almost +like a benediction, for he half raised his white hand over her head. + +When Margaret looked up he had gone. + +She turned away, and the tears were still in her eyes as she opened the +folded notes and looked at them. They represented a hundred pounds. + +Mrs. Hale was quite overwhelmed. + +"Well!" she exclaimed. "Gracious goodness!--a hundred pounds! Well, +Margaret, my dear, I don't think you have any cause to regret your +visit to your poor old grandmother. It hasn't been altogether a waste +of time, now, has it?" + +"No," said Margaret; "no, indeed, dear!" but even as she kissed +the old lady and hid her face on her ample bosom, the same guilty +feeling assailed her as that which had come upon her under the earl's +generosity. + +On the morrow she returned to London, but she had not to walk as she +had done in coming. The earl had given orders that a brougham should +be in attendance, and she started with a footman to open the door, and +another to place her modest portmanteau on the roof, while the coachman +touched his hat. + +"Good-bye, grandma!" she said brokenly, as she clung to the old lady. + +"Good-bye, Margaret, my dear! You will come again, and as soon as you +can?" + +"Yes," said Margaret, a lump rising in her throat. "Yes, I will come +again--and soon." + +But man proposes, and Providence disposes! + +It was hot in London, and Margaret found her fellow-lodgers were away +in the country, so that she had the rooms to herself. + +She was thankful for their absence, for she would have shrunk from +their affectionately close questioning, and they might have worried +some hint of her secret from her. + +An hour after her return a telegram arrived. + +"Will you meet me at Waterloo at two o'clock? We will go up the river." + +It was not signed, but Margaret knew that it was from Blair. Should she +go? + +She lay awake a long time that night asking herself the question, but +at two o'clock the next day she found herself at Waterloo, and Austin +Ambrose came up and raised his hat. + +"You did not expect me?" he said with a smile, as her color rose. + +"I--I thought----" + +"It would be Blair," he finished smoothly. "He is not far off. He will +join us at Clapham Junction. He wanted to come and meet you here, but +I persuaded him to let me come instead. You know how prudent I am. A +dozen people on the platform might chance to see him and recognize him +and talk, while I--well nobody feels enough interest in me to care +where I went," and he laughed. + +"It is better so, and it is very kind of you," said Margaret. + +"I am all kindness," he said, smiling. He put her into a first-class +carriage, and Margaret saw his hand in close contact with the guards, +and heard the lock turned. + +"May I say that you are looking very well, Miss Margaret?" he said, +leaning forward and looking at her with respectful and friendly +admiration. + +Margaret laughed. + +"Did you take all this trouble to pay me compliments, Mr. Ambrose?" + +"No," he said, with sudden gravity, but still smiling, "I came for +prudence' sake, and because I wanted to speak to you. And I have so few +minutes that I must get to the point at once. Miss Margaret, are you +going to be good to Blair and marry him?" + +Margaret flushed, then grew pale. + +"Some day," she said, trying to speak lightly. + +"Some day is no day," he returned. "Miss Margaret, you know, I hope and +trust, that I am your friend?" + +Margaret inclined her head. + +"It is as your friend and his that I venture to beg you to make him the +happiest man in the world as soon as possible." + +Margaret remained silent; her hand trembled as she touched the +window-strap. + +"Why--why should it be soon?" she faltered. "It seems only a few days +since--since----" + +"It is some weeks," he said, quietly and impressively. "But, indeed, +if it were only a few days, I would say the same. Miss Margaret, I can +scarcely tell you all the reasons I have for pressing this upon you, +and I would not do it, but that I know Blair is too--well--shy to do it +altogether for himself. A simple 'no' from you silenced him! He told +me, you see, that he spoke to you when he was down at the Court last." + +"He tells you everything!" Margaret could not help saying. + +"Do not be jealous!" he said; "if he does, it is because he knows that +all that interests him interests me, and that I have his welfare at +heart." + +"Forgive me," she said, in a low voice. "Yes, he did speak to me." + +"And he did not tell you the reasons? His, of course, are that he +cannot be completely happy until you give him the right to call you +his. But mine are as strong, I think! Miss Margaret, my friend's love +for you has changed him; has made a better and a nobler man of him! +Will you run the risk of that change deteriorating? Can you not guess +something of the temptations which assail a man in Blair's position? +Don't you apprehend that shadows from the past may arise, that--I will +say no more! Complete the good work you have begun! Place him beyond +the weak and wicked past in the harbor of your love. If Blair asks +you to marry him early next month, Miss Margaret, I beseech you do not +refuse!" + +Margaret sat pale and trembling. + +"Do not answer now," he said. "You shall tell him. I will only say +this, that, if you will let me, I will remain your friend all through. +I will see that all the arrangements are made, and that the whole +thing is kept perfectly secret. You shall please yourself how soon you +declare the marriage, but I should advise, strongly advise that you +wait for a favorable opportunity." He was too wise to say, "Till the +earl is dead!" + +The train stopped at Clapham, and as Blair came hurrying up to the +window, Austin Ambrose jumped out. + +"Go and enjoy yourselves," he said, with a pleasant smile, and shaking +his head to a request that he would accompany them. "Two are company, +and three are none. Good-bye, Miss Margaret--and remember," he added, +in a low voice. + +Margaret did remember. All the afternoon, the happy afternoon, as she +sat opposite Blair as he rowed up the beautiful reaches of the Thames, +she thought of Austin Ambrose's words, and so it happened that when, +later on, they were sitting under the trees, on an island that glowed +like an emerald in the middle of the silver stream, he bent over her +and murmured: + +"Madge, will you marry me next month?" she placed her hand in his and +answered: + +"Yes!" + + + + +CHAPTER XIV. + + +Just at this period a singular change came over Mr. Austin Ambrose's +mode of life. As a rule he rarely left London. At a certain hour of the +day you would find him in his chambers, at another riding or walking in +the park, at another he would be dining at his club, and every night +you were sure of seeing him at the whist table at any rate for an hour +or two. But immediately after Margaret's promise to marry Lord Blair, +Mr. Austin Ambrose took to taking little excursions in the environs +of London, and the special objects of attraction for him seemed to +be, strangely enough, seeing that he could by no means be called a +religious man, the various churches in the villages dotted about Kent +and Surrey. The smaller and more out of the way the village, and the +more dilapidated and neglected the church, the more Mr. Austin Ambrose +seemed to be attracted by them. + +He chose the churches where the congregation is small and the clergyman +old and feeble, and he would sit and listen as the old parsons +dribbled out their prosy sermons, and the scattered people in the great +pews nodded and slept. + +One church he appeared to have a special liking for. It was situated +in one of the small villages in Surrey called Sefton. There were only +a few cottages and a farm, and the church was in a very dilapidated +condition, and the clergyman seemed almost as worn out. + +He was a very old man and nearly blind, and how he got through the +service only those who are acquainted with similar cases can understand +or believe. So past his time and dead to everything did the old +gentleman appear that one could easily understand the point of the +poet's lines: + + "He lived but in a living sleep, + Too old to laugh or smile or weep." + +"If one were to be married or buried by him on Monday he would forget +it on Tuesday," Austin Ambrose murmured to himself as he sat at the +back of one of the high backed pews and watched the old gentleman. + +There was a parish clerk, too, who droned out the responses, and slept +through the sermon--and snored--who was almost as old as the clergyman, +and Mr. Austin Ambrose waylaid him and got into conversation with him +after the service. It could scarcely be called conversation, however, +for the old man merely grunted a "Yes," or "No," and smiled a toothless +smile to Austin Ambrose's questions and remarks. + +He seemed to remember nothing--excepting that "It were forty-two years +agone since the small bell were cracked, and that's why we doan't ring +'em at marriages; they do seem so like a tolling, sir." + +"You don't have many weddings, I suppose?" asked Mr. Ambrose. + +The old man shook his head. + +"Not a main sight," he said without exhibiting the faintest trace of +interest. "Moast of our folks is too old to marry, and the young 'uns +goes to the big church at Belton--away over there." + +"When was the last?" asked Mr. Ambrose. + +The clerk took up his hat slowly and scratched his head. + +"I do scarce remember, sir," he said; "my memory ain't what it were. +I'm getting on in years, you see--nearly eighty, sir; me and the parson +runs a closish race," and he chuckled. "When was the last? Lemme see! +Well, I could tell 'ee by the book, but the parson keeps that. I dare +say he could put his hand upon it." + +Mr. Ambrose laughed softly. + +"You seem half asleep here at Sefton," he said pleasantly. + +The old clerk grunted. + +"I think we be sometimes, sir," he said. "But, you see, it's a +miserable place now the coach has given up running through. Them +railways and steam indians have a'most ruined the country." + +"How long ago is it since the last coach ran?" asked Mr. Ambrose. + +The poor old man looked bored to death. + +"Thirty--forty year," he said. "I can't call to mind exactly; my memory +hain't what it were." + +Mr. Ambrose wished him good-day, and without tipping him--he did not +want to fix himself in the old man's feeble memory--and repaired to the +inn. + +He called for a glass of ale, which he took care not to drink, and +asked for a paper. + +The landlord brought him a local one. + +"Could I see a London one?" asked Mr. Ambrose. + +The landlord shook his head. + +"All the news as we care about, such as the state of the crops, and +the prices at Coving Garden Market, is in that there paper; we don't +trouble about a Lunnon one," he said. + +Mr. Ambrose nodded and smiled, paid for his ale, and went back to +London. + +"Sefton is the place," he said. "It is so out of the world that they +never see a London newspaper; so asleep that the noise of the great +world rushing onward never wakes it, and the parson and clerk are +faster asleep than anything else in it!" + +He described the place in glowing colors to Margaret and Blair, a few +nights afterward, as they three were sitting in a cool corner of the +Botanical Gardens. + +"A most delightful nook, my dear Miss Margaret; quite a typical old +English village. I could spend the rest of my days there, and if I were +going to be married--alas! why should it be one's fate to assist at +other people's happiness, and have none oneself?--it is the place of +all others I should choose for the ceremony." + +"What does it matter where the church is?" said Blair, in his blunt +fashion, and with a point-blank look of love at the sweet, downcast +face beside him. + +"It matters a great deal, my dear Blair; but I'm addressing Miss +Margaret, who can appreciate the beauties of a scene, being an artist. +I assure you it is a most charming spot, and it is so quiet and out +of the way that I really think one might commit bigamy three times +running there in as many weeks, and no one would be any the wiser. Why +did you start, Blair?" + +Margaret looked up at Blair at the question, and he met both her and +Austin Ambrose's gaze with astonishment. + +"Why did I _what_? Start? I didn't start," he said. "Why should I? What +were you saying? To tell you the truth, I was looking at Madge's foot +at the moment, and wondering how anybody could walk with such a mite, +and comparing it with my own elephant's hoof. I didn't hear what you +said quite." + +Margaret drew her foot in, and looked up at him rebukingly. + +"You shouldn't be frivolous, sir," she said. + +"You shouldn't have such a small foot, miss," he retorted, in the +fashion which is so sweet to lovers, and so silly to other people. +"Now, what was it you said, Austin?" + +Austin Ambrose laughed. + +"Oh, some joke about bigamy, not worth repeating. I thought I had said +something funny, you started so." + +"But I _didn't_ start," replied Blair, with a laugh. + +"All right," assented Austin Ambrose; "you didn't, then. But I was +going to say that another advantage is that Sefton is on the main line, +and that you start from the church to that place in Devonshire where +you are to be happier than ever two mortals have ever yet been. What is +the name of it?" + +"Appleford," said Blair. + +"You will be down there about five o'clock," continued Austin Ambrose. +"Just in time for dinner." + +"What do you say, Madge?" asked Lord Blair, in a low voice. + +Austin Ambrose rose and strolled toward some flowers. + +"I say as you say, dearest," she answered, with a little sigh. + +He looked at her. + +"Just give me half a hint that you don't like all this secrecy----" he +began; but she stopped him, raising her eyes to his with a trustful +smile. + +"We won't open all that again, Blair," she said. "Yes, Sefton will do." + +"And you won't mind doing without the bridemaids and the white satin +dress, and the bishop, and all that?" he asked, with half anxious but +wholly loving regard. + +Margaret returned his gaze steadily and unflinchingly. + +"I care for none of them," she said, quietly. "If I could have had my +choice I should have liked my grandmother; but we haven't our choice, +and so nothing matters, Blair." + +"You are the best-natured girl that ever breathed, Madge!" he said +in a passionate whisper. "All my life through I shall remember what +sacrifices you made for me. I shall never forget them! Never!" + +"Have you made up your minds?" asked Austin, coming back. + +"Yes; it is to be Sefton," said Madge herself. + +"Very well, then," he answered. "Then, all the rest of the arrangements +I can make easily." + +And he was as good as his word. + +He went down with Blair to get the special license; he engaged a sweet +little cottage at Appleford; he saw the parson's clerk, and informed +him of the date of the wedding; he even went with Blair to his tailor's +to order some clothes. + +The day approached. Margaret had made her preparations. They were +simple enough, wonderfully and strangely simple, seeing that the man +she was going to marry was a viscount, and heir to one of the oldest +coronets in England. + +"Don't buy a lot of dresses, Madge," Blair had said. "We shall be going +to Paris and Italy after Appleford, and you can buy anything you want +at Paris, don't you know." + +She gave notice to quit to her landlady, and wrote a line or two to +some of her companions. She did not say that she was going to be +married, but that she was going for a long stay in the country, and she +did not add what part. + +The morning--the wedding morning--was as bright and even brilliant as +a real summer morning in England can be--when it likes; and the sun +shone on the new traveling dress--which was to be her wedding dress as +well--as bravely as if it had been white satin itself. + +All the way down to Sefton, Blair looked at her with the loving, +wistful admiration of a bridegroom, and seemed never tired of telling +her that she was all that was beautiful and lovable. + +Austin Ambrose had gone into a smoking carriage and left them to +themselves, but when the train pulled up at Sefton he came to the door. + +"Are we going to walk?" inquired Blair. + +"No, there is a fly," said Austin, and he led them to it quietly and +got them inside. + +Blair laughed. + +"Poor old Austin! Upon my word, I think he enjoys all this mystery! +He'd make a first-rate conspirator, wouldn't he? I say, he was right +about the place, though, wasn't he? It is dead and alive!" + +Margaret looked through the window. There were a few scattered +cottages, one solitary farm, and at a little distance, half hidden +amongst the trees, the old dilapidated church. + +"It is quiet," she said; "but it is very pretty." + +"Quiet!" and he laughed. "I'd no idea there were such spots near +London. Austin must have had some trouble in finding such an +out-of-the-way place." + +And he spoke truly. Mr. Ambrose _had_ taken a great deal of trouble. + +The fly drove up to the church door, and Austin Ambrose got down from +the box. + +"You need not wait," he said to the flyman; "we are going to take a +stroll through the church. It looks interesting." + +The flyman pocketed his fare--the exact fare--and concluding that they +were sight-seeing, drove sleepily off. + +"Come along," said Austin Ambrose in a matter-of-fact fashion, and they +followed him. + +But the door was locked, and there was no sign of parson, or clerk, or +pew-opener. + +Austin Ambrose bit his lip, then laughed. + +"I know where the old fellow lives," he said; "I'll rout him out." + +He went to a little ivy-grown cottage just outside the churchyard, and +presently returned with the ancient clerk. + +"Mornin', miss; mornin', sir," he said, touching his battered old +beaver. "I begs ten thousand pardons, but I quite forgot as how there +was a wedding this mornin'; but I dessay the parson have recollected. +Howsomever, I'll open the church," and he unlocked the door and signed +for them to enter. + +Margaret tremblingly clung a little closer to Blair's arm and he +murmured a few words of encouragement. + +"Hang it, Austin!" he said, aside; "it scarcely seems as if we were +going to be married. It only wants a hearse----" + +Austin laughed. + +"Nonsense. It is just what you want. They have forgotten you are to be +married, and they'll forget all about it half an hour after it is over. +Here is the parson; I did his memory an injustice!" + +The old gentleman came shuffling up the porch and blinked at them over +his spectacles. + +"Good-morning, Mr. Stanley," he said. + +Blair stared, then, remembering that that was the name he had arranged +to assume, returned the greeting. + +The pew-opener, an ancient dame, with a "front" slipping down nearly to +her nose, now made her appearance, and the party went into the church. + +The clerk assisted the clergyman into his surplice, and got out the +register, and Blair, pressing Margaret's hand, walked up to the altar. + +Austin Ambrose paused a moment before accompanying, and whispered to +Margaret: + +"You will take care not to address either of us by name?" + +She made a motion of assent, and, pale and trembling, followed with the +pew-opener and clerk. + +The service began. It was scarcely audible; at times the old clergyman +was taken with a cough that threatened to shake him, and the book he +held, and, indeed, the church itself, into pieces, but he struggled +through it; and in a few minutes Margaret found herself leaning upon +Blair's arm, and heard him murmur--with what intensity of love!--"My +wife!" + +"Now, if you'll sign the book," said the clerk. "Lemme see; what is the +name?" and he peered at the license. + +"Here is the name!" said Austin Ambrose. "It is rather a long one, and +I've written it down," and he handed him a slip of paper. + +Blair, to whom the remainder of the formalities was _caviare_, was +bending over Margaret at a little distance, and buttoning her gloves. + +"Ah! yes! ahem! thank you!" said the clerk. "Now, if you'll sign, +please." + +They signed, the old clergyman peering down at them with a benign and +utterly senile smile. + +He had never heard of Lord Ferrers or of Lord Leyton, and this string +of names might belong to some young shopkeeper's assistant for all he +knew or cared; but he did inquire for the license. + +"I put it in the book," said Austin Ambrose. He had got it in his +pocket. + +"Oh, very well! Yes, thank you! Well, I trust you will be happy, young +couple; yes, with all my heart. You have got a beautiful morning; and +where are you going to spend your honeymoon?" + +"In France," said Austin Ambrose, blandly. "So we must hurry away. +Good-morning, sir," and slipping their fees into the hands of parson, +clerk, and pew-opener, he made for the door. + +"My wife!" said Blair again. "George! I can scarcely believe it is +true!" and he looked round with a half-dazed glance; but it changed to +one of triumph and happiness as he drew her arm within his and pressed +it to his side. + +"Yes, you are man and wife," said Austin Ambrose, "and I echo the good +old clergyman's wish, 'May you be very happy,'" and he held out his +hand. + +Blair seized it and wrung it. + +"Thank you, Austin," he said simply, but with a ring of deep feeling in +his voice. "You have been a true friend to us both, eh, Madge?" and he +passed the hand on to her. + +She took it and looked at the owner. Then suddenly she started and drew +back. For a moment--in his secret exultation--Mr. Austin Ambrose had +been off his guard, and there shone a light in his eyes that almost +betrayed him. + +It was gone in an instant, however, and with the pleasant, friendly +smile, he pressed Margaret's hand. + +"We mustn't try her too much, my dear Blair," he said. "It has been +an exciting morning. Would you like to rest, or will you go on, Lady +Leyton? There is just time to catch the train." + +Margaret started. Lady Leyton! + +Blair laughed. + +"Margaret doesn't know her own name!" he said. "Which will you do, my +lady?" + +"Let us go on," she murmured, a desire that was almost absorbing +possessed her--the longing to get rid of Mr. Austin Ambrose. It was +very ungrateful, but so it was. + +"All right," said Blair. + +They walked to the station. As Austin Ambrose had said, there was just +time to catch the down train to Devon, and in a few minutes it came +puffing up. + +A faithful friend to the last, Austin Ambrose got them a carriage, and +tipped the guard. + +"Good-bye," he said, standing on the step and waving his hand; +"good-bye, and Heaven bless you!" and there seemed to be something +really like tears in his voice. + +And, indeed, he was paler than usual as he walked up and down the +platform, waiting for the train to London. + +Sometimes our very success frightens us. + +The train reached Waterloo pretty punctually, and Mr. Austin Ambrose +sprung out and got into a cab. + +"Drive to No. 9, Anglesea Terrace," he said. + + + + +CHAPTER XV. + + +It was a week after Margaret's wedding in the moldy and dilapidated old +church at Sefton, and she and Lord Blair--she and her husband!--were +sitting on the cliff at Appleford looking out upon the sea, which lay +at their feet like a level opal glistening in the rays of the morning +sun. + +The history of these seven days might be epitomized in the three +words--They were happy! + +Happy with the happiness that few mortals experience. Lord Blair had +been in love before his marriage, but he was--and, believe me, dear +reader, what I am going to state is not too common--he was more in love +now, after these seven days, than before. + +Margaret was not a girl of whom even the most fickle of mankind could +tire easily, and Blair was not the most fickle. + +He had often declared that his Madge, as he delighted to call her, +was an angel; he married the angel, and discovered that she was a +lovely and lovable woman, and I make bold to say--that for sublunary +purposes--that is better, from a husband's point of view, than an angel. + +"With each rising sun some fresh charm comes to view," says the poet; +and Lord Blair found it so with Margaret. + +Under the spell, the witchery of her presence, Lord Blair seemed to +grow handsomer, younger, more taking, and to Margaret more charming. +Oh, why cannot such epochs last forever, until they glide unconsciously +into that eternity where all is love and happiness? + +On this morning Blair lay stretched at her feet, near enough to be able +to touch her hand, to put his arm round her waist. He was dressed in +his flannels, she in a plain dress of some soft _comfortable_ material +which, while it showed the deliciously graceful outlines of her figure, +enabled her to move about freely and without hindrance. + +The light of love and happiness played like sunlight on her beautiful +face, and glowed starlike in her eyes, which had rested on the glorious +view, and now sought her husband's--and lover's--face. + +"Madge," he said, after a long silence, during which he puffed at his +pipe, "I am going to pay you a big and an awful compliment, and yet +it's true--you are the only woman I ever met who didn't bore me!" + +"In-deed!" she said, flashing a smile upon him which seemed like a +sunbeam. + +"It's true," he said with lazy emphasis. "Some women are pretty, and +are content with that, and think it's good enough for you to sit and +look at them; others are clever, and consider that if they talk and +you listen it's all right. But you--why, you are the loveliest woman I +know, and you are the cleverest. Madge, dear, I have no right to get +the whole thing like this. There are so many better men who deserve it +more than I do." + +Margaret laughed. + +"We don't get our deserts, Blair," she said. "_You_, for instance, +might have married a dragon of propriety, who would keep you in order +by the terror of her eye; or a plain heiress, who would bring you a +large fortune to waste, anything but a foolish girl, who has no money +and no family to bless herself with. There's that boat again! Where is +it going?" she broke off. + +He raised himself on his elbow indolently. + +"That is the Days' boat," he said drowsily. "I don't know where it is +going. Fishing, I suppose." + +"They can't fish on this tide," said Margaret, who, though she had been +only a week in Appleford, had learned more about its ways and habits +than Blair would have gleaned in a year. + +"No!" he said carelessly. "I can't quite make these Days out. They let +us these lodgings, and they make us very comfortable, but I've a kind +of feeling that they have some other way of getting their living that I +don't understand. Now, why should he go out to sea this morning if he +isn't going fishing?" + +"The ways of Appleford are mysterious," said Margaret with a laugh, +"and it would take a clever man to fathom them." + +"Austin, for instance," he said, drawing a little nearer so that he +could take her hand. + +A slight cloud crossed Margaret's brow. + +"I don't know that Mr. Ambrose even would fathom them," she said. "But +I have discovered one thing, Blair," and she laughed softly. + +"What's that, dear?" he asked. + +"Why, that smuggling is not the extinct profession it is generally +considered to be!" + +"Smuggling!" he exclaimed incredulously. + +"Yes," said Margaret. "I am certain that it is carried on here, and I +have a shrewd suspicion that the landlord, Mr. Day, is engaged in it." + +"Nonsense, Madge!" he said. "What a romantic child it is!" + +"But my romance lies within reach of my hand," she murmured, touching +his lips with her forefinger and receiving the inevitable kiss. "But I +am sure of it. On Thursday night--do you remember how it blew?--no, you +were fast asleep! Well, the wind woke me, and I went to the window to +close it. And as I stood there I heard Day and his son talking outside. +They, of course, thought themselves unheard, or they wouldn't have +spoken so loudly." + +"And what did they say?" Blair asked, smiling. + +"I did not hear all of their talk, but I caught some of it. There were +words spoken about 'kegs' and 'brandy' and 'tobacco.' That I am sure +of." + +Blair laughed. + +"Nonsense, darling, you dreamt it!" he said. + +Margaret smiled. + +"Perhaps so, but it was a very lifelike dream then, and to put a touch +of reality to it, I saw a keg of something--spirits or tobacco--in the +kitchen the next morning. I asked Mrs. Day what it was, and she said, +'Water.' But there is a capital well just outside the door!" + +"Upon my word you would make a first-class detective, Madge!" said Lord +Blair, with a laugh, in which she joined. + +"Should I not? I had a great mind to ask Mrs. Day to let me have a +glass of the water, but I felt that if I were right, the consequences +would be too embarrassing." + +"I should think so," said Blair. "And you imagine that Day and his son +are going on a smuggling expedition now?" and he looked at the boat +dancing on the waves beneath them. + +Margaret nodded. + +"Yes, I do," she replied lightly. "I think that presently Mr. Day, with +his little boat, will meet one of those rakish-looking craft in the +offing there, and then the rakish-looking craft--isn't that the proper +nautical phrase?" + +"First rate!" he assented, languidly. "You would make your fortune as a +novelist, Madge." + +--"Will put a couple of small barrels on board of Day's boat," she +said, pinching his ear tenderly. "Day will wait until the tide turns, +and then, it being dark, will sail into Appleford harbor with a cargo +of fish--and the two barrels. No one will suspect him, least of all the +merry and comfortable coastguard; and those two barrels, after resting +there for a night, will be sent off to Exeter--or somewhere else!" + +Lord Blair laughed with indolent enjoyment. + +"Bravo!" he said. "Well, Austin is better than his word. He said +Appleford was pretty, but he didn't add that it possessed all the +charms that you credit it with." + +Once more the faint cloud crossed Margaret's happy face. + +"Have you heard from him?" she asked, after a moment's pause. + +Lord Blair pulled a letter from his pocket. + +"Yes, this came this morning. I didn't read it through. Austin writes +such awfully long letters. Read it yourself, darling, and tell me what +it's all about." + +Margaret read it. + +"There is not much," she said. "He says that no one suspects what--what +we did at Sefton, and that he has told every one that you have gone +abroad." + +Blair laughed. + +"Trust Austin to keep a thing secret," he said. "He is the best man +in the world at this sort of thing. Now, I should blare out the whole +story to the first man I met; but Austin! Oh, Austin could keep his +lips shut till he died!" + +Margaret looked out to sea, and sighed. + +"Now, what does that mean?" he demanded instantly. "Are you tired? +Would you like to go in-doors? Are you--unhappy?" + +She laughed slowly and softly. + +"I think I am too happy!" she said in a low voice. "Blair, it seems to +me sometimes as if there were something wicked in being so happy! We +are told, you know, that there is no real happiness in this world, and +that joy cannot last. If it is true, then--then----" she let her lovely +eyes rest upon him doubtfully. + +"Nonsense, my darling!" he retorted. "Don't believe it! We were all +meant to be happy, but some of us have missed the way. I know what is +the matter with you." + +"What?" she demanded, her fingers clinging to his lovingly. + +"Why, you feel strange without your work. You are an artist, don't you +know; and you haven't touched a brush for--well, for seven days. That's +bad for you. Oh, I know. I am a simple idiot, but I understand all +about this sort of thing. You want to paint. Well, do it," and he threw +himself back with a confident air. + +Margaret laughed. + +"If I wanted to paint ever so much," she said, "I couldn't; I haven't +any materials. No colors, no canvas----" + +He raised himself on his elbow. + +"Oh, that's an easy matter; we can get all that at Ilfracombe. I'll go +and get them; it's only a walk, or I can take the boat." + +Margaret stopped him with a gesture of curiosity. + +"Blair, there is that woman I spoke to you about last night," she said; +"there, on that rock." + +"What woman?" he asked, without moving. + +"That young woman dressed in mourning," said Margaret. "I have seen her +three times. I think she must be a widow." + +"Oh," he said lazily; "I dare say. Well, about these said drawing +materials. I'll walk into Ilfracombe, and get them. No; you sha'n't go. +It is too hot, and you will get a headache." + +"And do you think I will let you go all that way to gratify a whim +which you have fastened upon me, you silly boy?" she said. "Seriously, +Blair--don't trouble." + +"But that is just what I mean to do," he said. "I don't want you to +be bored, even for a moment; and I should feel happier myself if I +could see you with your beloved paints and turpentine. You shall make +a sketch of Appleford--and we'll hang it up wherever we go, and look +at it when we are quite old, so that we may remember that we were 'too +happy,' eh, Madge?" and he put his arm round her and kissed her. + +At this moment the landlady, Mrs. Day, came from the cottage behind +them. She was still a young woman, and her appearance was rather above +that of the ordinary Appleford fisherwives. She had an intelligent face +that rather impressed one. + +Margaret had taken to her at once, and for Margaret Mrs. Day had a warm +admiration, which expressed itself in her dark eyes and a smile which +shone in them when Margaret spoke to her. + +Mrs. Day generally had some knitting in her hands, and the needles were +glistening in the sunlight as she approached. She had evidently not +seen them, for while her hands were busy her eyes were fixed on the +boat, which was gradually making its way across the bay. + +Suddenly she lowered her eyes, and catching sight of her lodgers she +started slightly, and, with a quick glance from them to the boat, +turned to retrace her steps, when Blair called to her. + +She came up to them with a little bow, that was almost a courtesy. + +"Sorry to call you back, Mrs. Day," said Blair, in his genial manner, +which won all hearts; "but I want to know the best way to get to +Ilfracombe?" + +Mrs. Day's needles stopped. + +"The boat's out, sir," she said, "or you could have gone by that." + +"Yes, I know that she is," said he, pointing to it; "Day's gone +fishing, I suppose?" + +"Yes, sir," said Mrs. Day, promptly and placidly. "There's no train now +till the evening, and it's too far for Mrs. Stanley to walk." + +"Mrs. Stanley isn't going," said Blair. "I'm going alone." + +"Then you could ride, sir," said Mrs. Day: "I could borrow Farmer +James' colt, if you cared----" + +"The very thing," said Blair, at once. + +Mrs. Day inclined her head respectfully. + +"I'll go and send for it, sir," she said, with the promptness which +had struck Margaret as rather uncommon in a woman of Mrs. Day's class. + +In about twenty minutes she came back to them. + +"The colt is here, sir," she said, simply. + +"Mrs. Day, you would make an excellent aid-de-camp," said Blair, with +a laugh, as he jumped up. "Good-bye, Madge; I sha'n't be long. I can't +bring all the things, but I'll bring some of them, and they shall +manage to send the rest." + +Margaret put her arm round his neck. Mrs. Day had retired. + +"Don't go, Blair," she said, with sudden and unexpected earnestness. "I +don't care about the painting; I would rather----" + +"No, no!" he said, steadfastly; "you only say that to save me a little +trouble, and all the while I'm feeling glad to be able to do something +for you, Madge! Trouble; the ride will be rather jolly. I'll tell you +what Ilfracombe looks like, and, perhaps, you'll feel inclined to tear +yourself away from your beloved Appleford, and make an excursion." + +Margaret turned her face away. A strange and sudden presentiment had +taken possession of her, and she was ashamed of it. + +"Well, go then!" she said, forcing a laugh; "and if you do not come +back, why I shall think Ilfracombe has proved too fascinating." + +"All right," he said; "but I think you'll see me back by dinner time." + +At the corner of the lane he turned in his saddle and looked round for +a last glance at Madge--his wife, his darling--and was rewarded by a +wave of her white hand. + +"Now, my young friend," he said, addressing the colt, who was rather +frisky, "have your little game by all means, but when it's over let us +get on, for I'm anxious to get back to that young woman on the hill +behind there." + +Margaret stood until Blair had disappeared, then she sank onto the +ground again. + +After all, it had been foolish of her to let him go, or why had she not +gone with him? She had had half an idea that the change would be good +for him, it was not wise to keep a man tied to your petticoat though he +love you ever so truly, and so she had given him his liberty. Well, he +would come back at dinner time hungry and gay after his ride, and would +love her all the more dearly for the short separation. + +After a time she put on her hat and went down into the little fishing +town, which clustered on the hill rising from the point where the +sea and the two rivers met. It was a quaint old town, quite a +hundred years behind the rest of the world, and the people, fishermen +and sailors, were supposed to be rather rough; but they had never +been rough to her, had never failed in that rustic courtesy which +springs from the heart and is much better than the imitation which is +manufactured so cleverly in towns. + +She wandered to the beach and stood there for awhile, the women looking +after her with a smile, the children gazing up at her, as they drew +near, with that frank admiration for her beauty which did not always +confine itself to looks, for she heard one child say to another: + +"That be pretty maiden from London, that be." + +An old man was seated on an upturned boat mending a net, and Margaret, +feeling lonely, gave him good-evening. + +"Good-evening, miss," said the old man, touching the wisp of white hair +that shone like snow against his tanned face. "Be 'ee going out for a +sail?" + +"No," said Margaret, "I am only strolling about." + +He nodded approvingly. + +"Well, you be wise. Better on land, miss. We're goin' to have a shift +in the weather." + +Margaret looked at the cloudless sky and smiled down upon him with +gentle incredulity; the old man shook his head. + +"Oh, it be bright as a new penny now, miss, surely," he said, smiling +back, "but it bean't going to last. There's a wisp in the wind as +threatens a storm. It 'ull come before night; a tough un, too." + +"Oh, I am so sorry," said Margaret. "There are some boats out at sea. +Will they be safe?" + +"There bean't many," said the old man. + +"Mr. Day's boat has gone," said Margaret. + +"Ay," he returned, slowly, and he looked steadily at his net. "She'll +be safe enow. She's a stiff un, and used to rough weather, miss," and +he laughed. "We always have it rough a'most when there's a high, strong +tide, and it's very high to-night. You see that rock, miss?" and he +pointed to a dark mass that rose on the black line at a little distance +from them. "Well, the tide will cover that rock to-night. People won't +allus believe it. There was a gentleman and a lady washed off that rock +two year agone; they thought themselves safe enow, and was up there +to watch the tide come in; they never saw it go out!" and he chuckled +grimly. + +Margaret shuddered. + +"Do you mean that they were drowned?" she said. + +"I 'spect," he replied; "leastways, they were never seen again." + +"But I thought people who were drowned always came back?" said Margaret. + +He shook his head. + +"Not hereabouts, miss. There's sands here, miss, as is onreliable and +hungry as a wild beastie; things they gets hold of they sticks to." + +Margaret, not being desirous of continuing this cheerful conversation, +wished him good-day and turned toward the cottage on the cliff. + +Luncheon was laid in the neat little room, and she took off her hat +and light jersey jacket and sat down with a wee little sadness. It was +the first time she had sat down to a meal without Blair since their +marriage; and Blair was a person likely to make his loss felt. The +little room seemed desolate without his light, musical voice and his +quick, ready laugh. Margaret looked round cheerlessly, and thought she +wouldn't have any lunch, then she felt ashamed of her weakness, and +dreading the look of surprise and astonishment with which Mrs. Day +would be sure to view the untouched sole, forced herself to make a +"pretending" lunch. + +And as she chased a minute piece of fish round her plate with a fork +and slice of bread, she fell to thinking of her great happiness, and +the difference it had and would make in her life. + +She was Blair's wife! Soon all the world would know it, and they would +be drawn away from this quiet spot, which was like a placid pool in +the whirling river--they would be drawn into the vortex, and be one of +the giddy, rushing throng. If they could only always remain serene and +happy outside the tumult of the great world! + +How surprised everybody would be. The earl, her grandmother, her old +companions at the art school! She could almost see her grandmother +weeping and laughing over her with loving pride. Then she sighed. +With all Blair's flattery she felt so unfit to be a grand lady, a +viscountess who would some day wear the Ferrers' coronet! + +"If we could only stay as we are," she thought, girl-like. "It is Blair +I want, not the title or the money. I would rather live with him here +until we die, than be the mistress of Leyton Court. What a pity it +is he is not a fisherman! I could have mended nets, and knitted his +jerseys, and stockings, and cooked his dinner in time, but to learn to +play the part of viscountess!--oh, it frightens me a little!" + +But she laughed even as she sighed. For, after all, would not Blair be +at her side to guide and protect her, and envelop her with his great, +strong love? + +She got up and went to the window, and as she did so she picked up a +pipe of Blair's and kissed it, though the caress was followed by a +grimace. + +There were still some long hours to be got through before Blair +and happiness came home to dinner, and she was thinking rather +disconsolately of another walk when the door opened and Mrs. Day +entered. + +"There is a lady to see you, ma'am," she said, hesitatingly. + +"A lady to see me!" said Margaret, with surprise; then thinking that it +might be one of the residents, who had come to pay her the compliment +of a call she said, quickly: + +"Oh, I am very sorry. Will you say I am not at home, please, Mrs. Day? +But are you sure she wishes to see me?--it is so unlikely." + +"Yes, she wants to see you, ma'am. She said Mrs. Stanley quite +distinctly. And it's no use saying not at home, because she saw you at +the window." + +Margaret smiled at the unsophistication which was not familiar with the +conventional white lie. + +"By not at home I mean that I don't want to see her," she said. "She +will understand, I think, Mrs. Day." + +"Very well, ma'am," said Mrs. Day, and she went out. She was back again +in a couple of minutes, however. + +"The lady says she has come a great distance on purpose to see you, and +begs that you will see her, if only for five minutes, ma'am," she said. + +Margaret changed color. Could it be her grandmother? + +"Is--is it an old lady?" she asked. + +"No, ma'am, quite young, I should think; she has kept her veil down. +I'll send her away if you like, ma'am; after all, she sha'n't bother +you if you don't want to see her, though she be so pleading." + +The last words decided Margaret--and sealed her fate. + +"Oh--well--then, I will see her," she said, reluctantly. + +"She's in the parlor, ma'am," said Mrs. Day, still hesitating; and +Margaret, after that glance in the glass without which no woman ever +goes to meet another, passed into the little passage. But she paused, +even with her hand on the handle of the door. + +After all it was only some stranger come to beg a subscription to +one of the local charities; and yet she had come from a distance! +Determining to get rid of her as soon as possible--for she knew that +Blair would not wish her to see any one--she opened the door and +entered the room. + +A woman--Margaret's quick eyes saw at a glance that she was young--was +seated with her back to the window. She was dressed very simply, and +yet tastefully, in clothes that were almost, if not quite, mourning, +and she wore a veil. + +As Margaret entered, a faint color mounting in her lovely face, the +visitor gave a scarcely perceptible start, either of surprise or +admiration, and the hand that held her sunshade trembled. + +"Do you wish to see me?" said Margaret, in her musical voice, which +seemed to affect the visitor as her face had done. + +"Yes," she said in a low voice, which she appeared to keep steady by a +palpable effort, "You are--Mrs. Stanley?" + +The color grew a little deeper in Margaret's cheeks, and her lids fell +a little; but she said quietly: + +"Yes, I am Mrs. Stanley." + +Thereupon the visitor raised her veil, and Margaret saw a face that was +pretty, and would have been girlish, but for its pallor and the lines +which had been impressed upon it either by sorrow or sickness. + +When she raised her veil she let her hands drop into her lap, and +clasped them tightly and nervously, and her lips quivered. + +Margaret remained standing, but the visitor sank into the seat from +which she had risen, as if unable to stand. + +"You--you will wonder--you will be surprised at my--my presence," she +began, then she broke off and clutched at her dress nervously. "Oh, +how can I go on? Bear with me, I beseech you! Be patient with me, I +implore!" + +Margaret looked down at her with surprise, that slowly melted to pity. + +"I am afraid you are in some trouble," she said, gently, and Margaret's +voice, when it was gentle, was compounded of the music which is said to +disarm savage beasts. + +It seemed to move the pale-faced girl strangely. She caught her breath +and appeared to wince. + +"I am in great trouble," she said. "You cannot tell, you will never +know what it has cost me to come to you. But--but it is my only chance!" + +She paused to gain breath, and Margaret sank into a chair, and wondered +how much she might venture to offer her. She had all the money the earl +had given her for her pictures, and some other savings besides. Of +course it was pecuniary trouble. + +"I am very, very sorry," she said, "and if I can help you----" + +"You can, and you only!" said the girl. + +"Will you tell me----" murmured Margaret. + +"Yes, yes, I will!" she broke in; "but give me a minute, give me time, +Mrs. Stanley. I will tell you my story. If it should fail to touch your +heart--but it will not; I see by your face that you have a kind heart, +that, though it might be led astray, would not do a fellow-creature, a +helpless woman like yourself, a deadly wrong!" + +Margaret stared at her, then turned pale. That the woman was mad she +had now not a shadow of a doubt; and she, not unnaturally, glanced at +the door. + +The girl seemed to divine her suspicions and intentions, for she put +out her hand pleadingly. + +"No, I am not mad! You think so now! But you will see presently that I +am not! It would be better for me--yes, and for you--if I were! Heaven +help us both!" + +She panted so and looked so faint that Margaret half rose. There was +a carafe of water and a glass on a small table near her, and the girl +caught at it and filled the glass, but in lifting it to her lips she +spilt some, her hand shaking like an aspen leaf. + +"I will try to be calm!" she said, pleadingly, as Margaret took the +glass from her. "Mrs. Stanley, I am a poor and friendless girl. I was +a governess in a gentleman's family--I am not a lady by birth, but I +had struggled hard to qualify myself--and I did my duty, and was"--her +voice broke--"happy! One day a gentleman came to visit the family. +He was young and handsome; he was more than that, he was gentle and +kind to the girl who felt herself so much alone in the world. He used +to come to the schoolroom, and sit and talk at the children's tea, +with them, and with me. I thought there was no harm in it. I did not +guess that it was me he came to see until one day he told me--all +suddenly--that he loved me!" + +She panted and paused, and moistened her lips, keeping her dark eyes +fixed on Margaret's face. + +Margaret listened with gentle patience and sympathy, feeling, however, +that there was some dreadful mistake, and that the girl had mistaken +her for some one else. + +"I did not know how it was with me until he spoke those words, but when +he said them they seemed to show me my own heart, and I knew I loved +him in return. Mrs. Stanley, I was not a wicked girl. No! I did not +wish to do wrong, and I told him that he must go, and never see me, or +speak to me so again, or that I must leave the place that had become a +home to me." + +"Poor girl!" murmured Margaret unconsciously. + +The girl started, looked slightly--very slightly--confused, as a child +does when it is interrupted in the middle of its lesson, then, with a +heavy sigh, went on: + +"But he would not listen to me; he said that he loved me as an honest +girl should be loved. I fought against him and my own heart day after +day, but he was too strong, and my love made me weak, and though he was +rich and powerful, and I knew I was not fit to be his wife, I consented +to marry him." + +She stopped and eyed her listener. + +Margaret, a little pale, but still wondering, gently opened the window +to give her some air. + +"Would you like to wait--let me get you some wine?" she murmured. + +"No, no! I must go on while I have strength--while you will consent +to listen," said the girl. "We were married secretly because he did +not wish his powerful relatives to know anything of the marriage for +awhile, and his prospects might be brighter. We were married"--she +sighed--"and I was happy--oh, so happy!" and the tears coursed down +her cheeks, and she hid her face in her handkerchief. "We had a pretty +little cottage near London, and my husband seemed as happy as I was. +He never wanted to leave my side; and so it went on for months, +until--until"--she paused and panted--"until one day my husband left +me--he said to see his relatives and find out if he could break it to +them. He came back silent and moody, and he went away again all next +day. Soon he stayed away for days, then weeks, and at last he left me +altogether." + +Margaret uttered an inarticulate cry of pity and sympathy and +indignation. + +"No, no, do not blame him," said the girl. "It was not altogether his +fault. He was light-hearted and--and fickle by nature, and it was her +fault as much as his." + +"Hers?" said Margaret. + +The girl looked at her with a vague wonder. + +"Yes. Have you not guessed? The other woman!" + +Margaret's face flushed. + +"No!" she said. + +"Yes, there was another woman. I discovered it by accident. I saw them +together, and knew in an instant why he had left me. She was beautiful, +more beautiful than I, and looked a lady, which I never was. And--and +it was not wonderful that he should leave me--a poor, simple girl----" + +"It was wicked, cruelly wicked!" exclaimed Margaret, hotly. + +The girl sobbed. + +"I did not know who she was! She looked good--and yet it was her fault! +I went home--after seeing them--and waited for him to come that I might +tax him with it! But he never came back! He sent me money--but I would +not touch it! I--I had my savings, and I lived on them----" + +"That was right!--that was right!" murmured Margaret, her womanly heart +aglow. + +"And--and I thought that I could learn to let him go, and live without +him! But--but it was too hard a lesson! I could not! You see, I loved +him so!" + +"Poor girl, poor girl! Oh, he was a villain! You should have----" she +stopped. + +"What should I have done? Gone to him and reproached him? Oh, you do +not know him! It would have made him hate me, and parted us forever and +ever!" + +"The law--there is justice," said Margaret. + +The girl shook her head in dull misery. + +"No, my pride was too great for that. Besides, I did not want my +friends to know how I was treated. There was only one thing to do"--she +paused, and her dark, restless eyes fixed themselves covertly on +Margaret's face as if she were waiting for a cue. + +"What was that?" breathed Margaret, bending forward. + +"To go to the girl he had deserted me for, to go to her and pray her to +let him come back to me. He was deceiving her, leading her astray, and +she might turn on me and laugh at me. But she looked good, and perhaps, +who knew, she might listen to my prayer! She could not love him better +than I do, and if she did, she might not be so lost to all shame as to +keep him from his wife!" + +"No, no! you were right!" said Margaret. "Why do you not go to her?" + +"I have come to her!" panted the girl. "Oh, Mrs. Stanley!----" but she +stopped perforce, for Margaret's open-eyed bewilderment showed that the +words were lost upon her. + +"You have come?" she said. "Come where--to whom?" + +"I have come here, to _you_!" exclaimed the girl, stretching out her +hands. "Oh, dear lady, you are beautiful, ten times more beautiful than +I am; but you look good and kind. Have mercy on me, and give me back my +husband!" + +Margaret shrank back, paling a little, but once again convinced that +she was in the presence of a mad woman. + +Yes, that was the key to the whole scene. The woman was one of those +monomaniacs who are possessed by the shadow of an imagined wrong, and +had pitched upon her as the person who had injured her! She looked +toward the door and half rose, but before she could rise from her +chair, the girl threw herself on her knees before her, and caught at +her dress. + +"You do not believe me! You would spurn me! Oh, my dear lady, in +Heaven's name, listen to me! Do not turn from me! Think of my great +wrong, my broken heart. You think you love him, but remember me! I am +his wife--his wife; while you--ah, you have no claim on him! Besides, +he has wronged you as cruelly almost as he has wronged me! Do not +hesitate, dear, dear lady; have pity on me, and let him come back to +me!" she cried, sobbing now bitterly. + +Margaret tried to jerk her dress from the clinging hands, but they held +too tightly. + +"You--you are mad!" she got out at last, in a horrified voice, which +she tried to keep steady. "I do not know you--I never saw you before! I +know nothing of your husband! It's a mistake, all a mistake. Let me go, +please, or I shall call some one----" + +"No, no! Listen to me! Be patient with me!" pleaded the girl. "You do +not know me, but I know you, though I only saw you and him together +once. It was up the river. Oh, I should never, never forget you. Oh, be +good to me! Let him come back to me! I am his wife--his wife! You will +not, you cannot divide husband and wife!" + +"Yes, you are mad!" said Margaret, with conviction. "You have never +seen me with your husband!--never! never! Let go my dress!" + +"Yes, you!" sobbed the girl. "Do you think I should mistake when all +my life hung upon it? I have tried not to mention my husband's name, +but you force me to do it. He may have tried to hide it from you--it is +possible--but you may know it!" + +"Yes, tell me," said Margaret, soothingly, feeling that it would +be well to humor her, "tell me; but let go my dress--you frighten +me--please." + +"His name is Blair! He is Lord Leyton!" sobbed the girl. + +Margaret uttered no cry. For a second she seemed as if she had not +heard. The room spun round; the blue sky outside the window turned +red; and the sofa opposite her seemed to heave as if shaken by an +earthquake. Then she laughed. + +"You are a wicked woman!" she said, in slow tones of cold anger and +contempt--"a very wicked woman! Why have you come here with this story? +Do you want money?" + +The girl looked up at her with a strange look. Had she expected her +victim to take the blow differently? + +"You--you don't believe me!" she wailed at last. + +Margaret laughed; a short laugh of scorn and contempt. + +"Believe you!" she said, and that was all. + +Her retort seemed to render the girl desperate. + +"You know it is true!" she cried. "You knew that he was married--that I +am his wife. He is Lord Blair Leyton; his uncle is the Earl of Ferrers. +He is my husband, and you have stolen him from me----" + +"_You lie_!" burst from Margaret's white lips. + +The passion that had been smoldering within her bosom leapt like an +all-devouring flame to her lips, and she stood over the pale-faced, +crouching girl like a goddess, her tall, graceful figure drawn to its +full height, her eyes blazing, her hand outstretched as if it held the +lightnings of Jove. + +No wonder the girl shrank and cowered. + +She did more than cower; she hesitated. For in that moment she quailed +with fear, and half melted with pity, and shrank with loathing from her +hellish task. + +It was only for a moment. She had gone too far to go back now. To draw +back would lead to exposure and ruin. + +"Oh, hush, hush!" she whined. "You are too cruel! You know I speak the +truth. We were married on the twelfth of March at St. Jude's--you do +not believe me--see there, then; there is the certificate!" and she +drew a paper from her breast and held it out, keeping firm grip of it, +however. + +Margaret stared at her without moving for a moment; then she bent down. +For awhile she could see nothing, the paper and the characters on it +danced before her eyes. Then her vision cleared, and she saw, still +obscurely, the printed and written lines. + +It was a certificate of the marriage of Blair, Lord Leyton--it set +forth the long string of his Christian names--and Lucy Snowe, at the +church of St. Jude, Paddington, on March the twelfth of the present +year. + +She tried to grasp the paper, but her fingers refused to close on it, +and fell limp and useless at her side, and she stood glaring down at +the crouching figure at her feet as at some monster. + +"Are you convinced?" wailed the girl. "Do you believe me now? Oh, how +_do_ you think I should have the heart to tell you such a story? And +now--what will you do? Oh, give him back to me! I don't utter a word of +reproach against you! No! I know, I feel that he has deceived you--Ah!" +she broke out as if she had been stung. "Don't tell me he has married +you! If he has, if he has dared to, I'll punish him! I'll send him to +penal servitude. I'll----" + +Margaret's swooning senses caught the threat, and she held out her +hand. It was her turn to plead. + +"No, no!" she panted almost inaudibly, "he--he has not! He is nothing +to me! You--you shall have him back! Oh, Heaven! Oh, Heaven!" and, with +a cry that rang through the room, she fell forward on her face. + + + + +CHAPTER XVI. + + +Lottie Belvoir looked down at the prostrate figure of Margaret with a +pallor that made the carefully-applied paint on her face look yellow by +contrast. + +For a minute or two she felt frightened and had an idea of calling for +help. Lottie was not altogether a bad girl; indeed, the persons who are +either altogether bad or altogether good do not exist in real life, but +only in the pages of some novels. + +She had been brought up in a hard school, in which each has to struggle +for itself, and where each knows that without doubt the devil will take +the hindmost. + +Mr. Austin Ambrose had worked upon her feelings and tempted her to do +this thing, and she had done it. But in the doing of it she had felt +distinctly uncomfortable, in the first place she had discovered that +Margaret was a lady; if she had been one of Lottie's own class, Lottie +could have had no compunction whatever. Then Margaret's beauty, which +affected everybody more or less, had had its effect upon Lottie; then +again Margaret had treated her so kindly and gently; and altogether +Lottie Belvoir had not had a particularly good time of it. + +She got the glass of water and sprinkled it over the white beautiful +face, and chafed her hands and presently Margaret reopened her eyes, +and smiling faintly, murmured--"Blair!" + +Then, as memory returned to its seat, the white features were +convulsed, and shrinking away from Lottie she said, in a ghastly +whisper: + +"It is all true, then? I--I thought that I had dreamt it." + +"Yes, it is all true," said Lottie, rather sullenly. "And now I want to +know what you are going to do, miss?" + +Margaret winced at the "miss." More surely than any other word could +have done, it brought home to her the fact of her ruin and degradation. + +Slowly she dragged herself to a chair, and sank into it, refusing with +a slight shudder Lottie's proffered arm. + +"What I am going to do?" she repeated in a dull, benumbed fashion. "I +do not know! Yes I--I must go away! I must go at once, before--before +he returns." + +"That is the best thing you can do, miss," said Lottie. "It goes +against me to drive you away, but what can I do? He is my husband----" + +"Yes, yes," gasped Margaret, as if she were choking, "he is your +husband--he is nothing to me. I have no right to stay here now. I will +go." + +"Perhaps you'd like to see him again, like to see us face to face and +have it out with him?" suggested Lottie, doubtfully, and watching +Margaret's face covertly. + +"No, no," she said, instantly, and with a shudder, "I--I never wish to +see him again." + +"He has behaved cruelly, shamefully to you, miss," said Lottie; "to +both of us, in fact, and he isn't worth fretting about, though he is a +lord." + +Margaret sat staring at the gayly patterned carpet, almost as if she +had not heard the last words, then she looked round the room in a kind +of bewildered fashion. + +Lottie rose and let down her veil. + +"There is a train in an hour," she said, with a sympathetic sigh, "if +you'd like to go to London, or perhaps you'd like to go abroad. If +there should be money wanted----" + +She had almost gone too far. + +Margaret rose and looked at her with wild eyes. + +"I will go," she panted, "do not be afraid. I will never see your--your +husband again. But _leave me alone_! Do not offer me money"--then her +face changed, and with a sob she cried--"forgive me. It is you who have +been wronged as well as me. I--I did not mean to speak so--but, ah, if +you would only go and leave me to fight against my misery." + +Lottie turned pale again under her paint, and moved toward the door. +There she paused, and a strange look came into her face. It was the +shadow of coming remorse casting itself before its steps. Even then +there was a chance for Margaret, for at that moment Lottie's womanly +heart was beginning to assert itself, and the impulse to fling herself +at Margaret's feet and tell her the truth--the real truth--was making +itself felt; but at that instant she caught sight of a man's figure +coming up the winding path, and with a quick step she came toward +Margaret. + +"I am going," she said, in her ear; "you will not see me again. Go +to London--abroad--somewhere away from Blair, and--from _Mr. Austin +Ambrose_!" + +These last words were not in her part, but for the life of her, though +she lost all, Lottie could not have helped whispering them. Then, +without waiting for any response, she went out and turned down the +path. A hundred yards from the gate, on the narrow path, she met Austin +Ambrose. + +"Well," he said, quickly, "is it over?" + +"Yes, it's done," she said, looking at him with anything but a +pleasant countenance; "and a nice job it has been! Why didn't you tell +me she was a lady?" + +He made an impatient gesture. + +"What does it matter? Where is she?--how did she take it?" + +"She is in there," said Lottie shortly; "and she took it--well, +it would have been almost as easy to have murdered her! Indeed, I +shouldn't be surprised if it _did_ kill her. She fell at my feet as if +she were dead." + +"Tut!" he said, with a cold smile; "she is not of the sort that die +easily. She will get over it. But there is no time to lose. You get +over to Paris; catch the down-train to the junction, and travel by the +night mail." + +"And you--what are you going to do now?" she asked. + +He smiled. + +"You need not trouble about that," he said. "You have done your part, +and I'll see that you get your reward." + +She nodded. + +"If it was to be done over again," she began; then she moved on a step, +but stopped and, with a spot of red, said: + +"I advise you to get away before Blair comes back. If he should happen +to turn up"--she shrugged her shoulders--"I wouldn't give much for your +life!" + +He nodded and laughed, and his eyes flashed evilly. + +"Blair will not turn up!" he said. + +The tone of confidence startled her. + +"Why? What have you done with him?" she asked. + +"Now, my dear Lottie," he said in a low voice, and looking round +cautiously, "don't interfere with my part of the play. It doesn't +concern you. Get off as fast as you can, and make your mind easy. Stop! +you'll want money," and he put his hand to his pocket; but, with a deep +flush and a tightening of the lips, she refused it--as Margaret had +refused hers! + +"I've got enough money to go on with," she said. "You can send it to +the Hotel de Louvre at Paris, if you like," and, with a nod, she sped +quick down the path. + +Austin Ambrose waited for a minute or two, looking at the sky. The blue +that had been so unbroken a short time since was streaked with fleecy +clouds, that might later grow black. + +Then he opened the cottage door and walked into the room where Margaret +sat, her head resting upon her outstretched arms. + +While one could count twenty he stood and looked down at her, then he +said, in a low voice: + +"_Miss Margaret_!" + +She did not start, but raised her head and looked at him, and a shudder +seemed to convulse her whole frame. + +"You here?" she said, scarcely audible. + +He inclined his head with a sorrowful gesture. + +"Yes, I am here. I have come to see if by any chance I can be of +assistance to you." + +"Then--then you have heard it?" she panted. + +He dropped his eyes and sighed. + +"Tell me," she cried, catching at his arm and holding it with a grasp +of steel, "tell me the truth! Is what she said--this woman!--is it +true?" + +He waited a moment. + +"It is true, alas!" he said. + +Margaret's hand fell from his arm, and she shrank back. + +"I only learned it just now," he said, as if in explanation. "Early +this morning, Lady Leyton--I beg your pardon, but I fear it is her +legal title--met me at the station, and recognizing me as a friend of +Blair's, told me her story." + +Margaret hid her face in her hands. + +"She has been here, I suppose?" he said. + +"Yes," breathed Margaret. + +He sighed. + +"I feared so! I wish that I could have reached you and broken it to +you before she came, but I wanted to learn if her story was true, and +I telegraphed to the clerk of the church at which she said she was +married." He paused to see if Margaret was fully realizing his words, +then went on slowly and impressively. "I received an answer promptly. +They were married at St. Jude's on the twelfth of March." + +Margaret remained motionless. + +"But I need not have taken this precaution, for I met the one person +who could set all doubt at rest." + +She looked up and fixed her eyes upon him. + +"I met Blair, and taxed him with his fiendish villainy, and----" + +Margaret caught her breath. + +--"He confessed it!" he said. + +She uttered a low cry, and cowered against the back of the chair. + +"I think I could have killed him on the spot," he went on. "He has +played the part of a heartless scoundrel! Miss Margaret, do you +remember how he started when I remarked how easy it would be for a man +to commit bigamy at Sefton?" + +The incident flashed back upon Margaret's memory, and she groaned. + +"If I had only known what that start of his meant!" murmured Austin +Ambrose. "Yes, he confessed the crime! He sent you a message by me----" + +She looked up and put up her hand. + +"Do not tell me! Do not mention his name again!" she cried hoarsely. + +"I must tell you," he said gently; "I promised! He implored your +forgiveness! Reparation, he knows is impossible; not even the remorse, +which will haunt him as long as his life lasts, can invent any way of +undoing the wrong he has wrought you! He consigned you to my care, Miss +Margaret, and I have undertaken readily--yes, very readily--to see that +your future is not further darkened by want." + +Margaret rose and clutched the table. + +--"You--you offer me money; you, too! And his money!" she panted. + +Austin Ambrose hung his head and sighed. + +"You will let me be your friend?" he pleaded in a soft voice. + +Margaret pushed the hair from her white forehead. + +"No!" she said; "I have no friend! I am alone in all the world! Tell +him--yes, tell him--that I would not touch a penny of his if it were to +save my life! Tell him that he has killed my heart and soul, but while +there is life still left in my body, I will use it to crawl as far from +him as I can! Tell him--" she broke down for a moment--"tell him that I +forgive him, but that if he ever again sends me such a message as you +have brought, the love through which he wronged and ruined me will turn +to hate!" + +"You are right!" he murmured. "But what will you do?" he asked, looking +at her with anxious intentness. + +Margaret moaned. + +"Ah! What will I do?" she sobbed hoarsely. "Heaven knows! there is only +one thing I can do, to creep away into some place where none may find +me, and die!" + +If Mr. Austin Ambrose had possessed that extremely awkward organ, a +heart, he would--he must--have been touched by the sight of the misery +and anguish of this innocent girl, whose happiness he had so carefully +and skillfully plotted against; but if there was a heart in Mr. +Austin's bosom, it existed there simply for physiological reasons, and +not for those of sentiment. + +"I think you must let me be your friend!" he said in a low voice, and +keeping his eyes on the carpet. "I can quite understand what it is you +are feeling and suffering, and I think your desire to get away from +here, to get beyond the possibility of ever meeting with Blair, a +natural one. If you will let me I will help you. You would wish to go +at once?" + +Margaret did not answer him, she was scarcely conscious of what he +said. He waited a moment or two, then said slowly and distinctly: + +"I think that the best thing I can do, Miss Margaret, is to leave you +for a short time. The blow has been an overwhelming one, in very truth, +it has confused and bewildered me; and standing here, a friend of the +villain who has wronged you--alas! the friend who did all he could in +all innocence to bring about the ceremony--I feel as if I were a sharer +in his guilt." + +Margaret tried to murmur "No," but the word would not come. + +"I think it will be better if I leave you for an hour or two; I will +come back in the evening, after having made all arrangements, and if +you will be so gracious as to intrust yourself to my hands as far as +the station, I honestly think you will find the journey made easier for +you." + +She tried to thank him, but she was not capable of doing more than +incline her head, and with hushed steps--as if there were death in the +house--Mr. Austin Ambrose went out of the room and down the path. + +With a low, heartrending moan she threw herself upon the ground and, +grasping her hair in both her white hands, hid her face--crushed with +shame and the torture of a broken heart. + +She lay thus prostrate in her anguish for some time, then she rose and +staggered up-stairs. A sudden thought had smitten her. + +Blair might come back--it might be that he still loved her! Was it not +love that had tempted him to work her ruin? He might still love her +passionately enough to come back and try to force her to remain with +him. Or the woman--his wife!--she might hear what he had done, and in +a fit of revenge drag her, Margaret, into a court to give evidence +against him and convict him. + +She must fly! She did not think of Austin Ambrose's offer of +assistance; or if she had thought of it, she would not have remained +for him to return. + +To get away at once, to fly to some place where no one knew her, or +could get to know about it; that was her instinctive desire. + +She bathed her face until the fearful aching of the burning eyes was +lessened, and tried to pack a small bag with the few articles that +were absolutely necessary, taking care that nothing but that which had +belonged to her went into the bag. + +One by one she stripped off her rings--until she came to the wedding +one--and placed them, together with the bracelets, chains and trinkets +Blair had given her, on the dressing-table. The plain band of gold, +inconsistent as it seemed, she allowed to remain on her finger. Then +she changed her dress for the plain traveling costume in which she had +been married. + +In doing so, she saw the locket--Blair's first gift! With trembling +hands she began to untie the ribbon, then she faltered. She had +promised him that she would not part with this. Surely she could keep +this to remind her of the time when she first tasted happiness, the +time when she had thought him all that was true and noble. + +The temptation to keep these two things that should seem as links +between her and the past--so bitter, and yet so sweet!--proved too +strong, and she let the locket fall into its place again over her heart. + +The warm glow of evening was over the landscape by the time her simple +preparations for flight were made, and drawing her veil on her pale and +haggard face, she stole down the stairs. + +In the narrow passage stood Mrs. Day. + +"Are you going out, ma'am?" she said. + +Margaret moistened her lips, and tried to answer carelessly: + +"Yes, Mrs. Day." + +"I don't think you ought to go far, ma'am," she said; "we are going to +have a storm. Will you take an umbrella or your mackintosh?" and she +looked toward the west, where a great bank of clouds seemed to rise +from the horizon, as if about to swallow the sun in its inky mass. + +"I will take my mackintosh," said Margaret. + +Mrs. Day took it off the stand and folded it. + +"I hope Mr. Stanley will be back before the storm breaks," she said. +"You won't go far, ma'am?" she added, wistfully. + +"No, not far," said poor Margaret. + +She took the mackintosh on her arm and walked out and down the path. +Then suddenly she heard the sound of a sob, and, looking back, saw Mrs. +Day with her hand to her face. + +Even in that hour of her supreme anguish, Margaret's gentle heart could +beat in sympathy with another's sorrow, and she went back. + +"What is the matter?" she asked hoarsely. + +Mrs. Day forced a smile, but her eyes were full of tears. + +"It's nothing--nothing much, ma'am," she said. "I beg your pardon for +distressing you, but--but the boat hasn't come back yet!" and she +looked beyond Margaret toward the sea. + +"Oh, I hope it will be all right," Margaret faltered. "Do not be +anxious, it will be back before the storm." + +She could not trust herself to say any more, and turning, walked +quickly away down the path. + +She felt tired, but she reached the bottom by the aid of a handrail, +and went toward the station. Then suddenly she remembered that she had +forgotten her purse! + +She had a few pounds in gold and a little silver in her pocket, but the +purse, containing the bank-notes given her by the earl, she had left in +a drawer at the cottage. + +She stood, aghast and trembling. To go back she felt was impossible; +and yet, what should she do? How could she accomplish her flight and +hope to hide herself without money? + +After a few minutes the dull roar of the rising tide seemed to exercise +a fascination over her; and presently she felt no desire to reach the +station, only a great longing to be alone by the side of the vast +ocean, whose solemn, measured beat seemed like an awful voice calling +to her. + +She reached the foot of the rock, toward which the fisherman had +pointed when he told her of the accident that had happened to the man +and woman two years ago. + +The tide had not touched it yet, and painfully she clutched its rugged +surface up which a few hours ago she could have sprung easily. + +At the top she sunk down exhausted, her face toward the sea, her eyes +fixed on the bank of cloud, that like the giant in the Eastern fable, +who escaped from the open bottle, had expanded and grown into a huge +mass, which had ingulfed the sun, and threatened, as it seemed, to +swallow the whole sky. + +How long she lay there, hidden from the sight of the village, +motionless and almost lifeless, she knew not; but suddenly she heard +the lap, lap of water below her, and looking down, saw that the tide +had crept round the rock, and was gradually but swiftly rising. + +She regarded its sullen approach with heavy, listless eyes. All power +of thought, much less appreciation of her peril, had deserted her. The +sound of the waves, the dull booming of the wind fell upon her ear +almost soothingly. + +The day seemed to close and night to fall; the storm-clouds were right +over her, and enveloped the earth as with a pall. + +Suddenly the darkness was broken by a vivid flash of lightning, and the +thunder roared and seemed to shake the rock on which she lay. At the +same moment she felt her right foot grow cold, and looking down, saw +that the tide had reached and covered it. + +Then, for the first time, she awoke from her stupor, and realized that +death and she were face to face. + +With that instinct of self-preservation, that shrinking from the horror +of death which comes to even the most miserable, she sprung to her feet +and crawled to the highest point of the rock, and looked wildly round. + +She had been cold the moment before, but now she seemed suffocating +with an awful heat. With trembling hands she tore off her hat and waved +it--Heaven knows with what desperate idea of attracting attention!--but +the wind seized it and tore it from her hand. A moment afterward she +felt the water lapping at her feet, and with an awful voice she called +upon--Blair! + +As if in answer to her appeal, the lightning shot out from the black +sky and revealed her form as if carved in bronze on the top of the +rock. The next moment she heard a man's voice, and a boat seemed to +rise from the depths of the sea at her feet. + +A lantern flashed in the darkness, and by its flickering gleam she saw +a man rowing in the boat, and a woman crouching in the stern. + +It was Day and his wife. + +The woman screamed and pointed. + +"There--there she is! For Heaven's sake be quick! Spring, Mrs. Stanley, +spring! Oh----" and she moaned, "be quick!" + +But, half mad with the insanity of mental and physical torture, +Margaret drew back. + +"No!" she cried. "I will not go! You shall not take me back to them!" + +"Quick!" roared Day, with an oath, "or you will be too late! Here, hold +the lantern, Jane! Hold it high!" + +His wife seized the lantern and threw its rays upon Margaret's wild, +white face. The boat, driven by the tide, struck against the rock, and +Day, grappling it with his boat hook, sprung on to it. + +For a moment or two there was a struggle between the weak and exhausted +woman and the strong mariner. It lasted only a minute or two; then he +lifted her bodily, and as gently as possible dropped her in the boat. + +Springing in after her he seized the oars and began rowing to shore. + +For a minute or two Margaret lay motionless, panting heavily, then she +got to her knees and flung herself at Mrs. Day's feet, clinging to the +woman's dress. + +"Have pity on me," she moaned; "don't take me back! I will go anywhere +else. I will do anything--but don't take me back to him! Oh, listen to +me! You don't know how cruelly he has wronged me. I cannot go back. +Stop!"--and she seized one of the oars. "You _shall_ stop!" + +Day stopped rowing, confused and bewildered. + +"Is--is she mad?" he roared, hoarsely, at his wife. + +Mrs. Day, white and trembling, threw her arms round Margaret and got +her clear of the oars so that he might row. + +"Oh, my dear, what is it? What has happened? Do you know that you have +been nearly drowned? If I had not seen you and caught the boat just as +it was coming to land--quick, James, quick!" + +"No, no," sobbed Margaret. "Not back! I will not go back!" and she +tried to free herself from the woman's grasp and throw herself into the +sea. + +"The poor lady's gone out of her mind!" said Day, pityingly. "Hold her, +Jane, for Heaven's sake!" + +"Yes, yes," panted Mrs. Day. "You row as hard as you can. I will hold +her, poor dear. Oh, James, what can have happened? And she so happy a +few hours agone!" + +Day bent to the oars. Margaret had ceased to struggle, but Mrs. Day did +not dare to relax her grasp. The boat forced its way nearer the shore. + +Suddenly there rang out a sharp report, and a flash of fire darted from +the beach. + +Day uttered a cry and stopped rowing as if he had been shot, and Mrs. +Day crouched still lower in the boat. + +"It's the coastguard!" he said, bending forward and lowering his voice, +though no one but the two women could have heard him. "It's the revenue +men--_and I've got the things aboard_!" + +There was silence for a moment, then Mrs. Day spoke. + +"You must go to shore, James," she said, with the calmness of despair. +"If we were alone----" + +She stopped and looked at the prostrate figure at the bottom of the +boat. + +"Go ashore!" he responded, with an oath. "What! and them waiting for +me? I tell you I've got the stuff on board. It's ruin, blank ruin!" + +Silence again. The wind howled, the boat tossed like a walnut shell +upon the black billows. + +"Oh, James, think of her--think of the poor demented creature!" sobbed +Mrs. Day. + +"Think of her! Yes, that be right enough; but I must think of thee, +lass, and the bairns as well! I tell 'ee it means ruin! As well row +straight into the jail's gates as go ashore to them wolves. No! I'm +sorry, Jane; I'm main sorry; but I can't do it--for your sake." + +There was that tone in the man's voice which quiets even the strongest +and most determined of women, and his wife sank back and resigned +herself. + +The boat swung round, and Day, setting his teeth, pulled for the open +sea. + +"We'll never reach the schooner," panted Mrs. Day hoarsely. + +"I'll risk it," he responded grimly. "Better trust ourselves to the +open all night than run into the midst of the sharks there," and he +nodded toward the shore. + +"And this poor lady?" + +He glanced at Margaret. + +"Well, I'm but doing her bidding, beant I?" he retorted. "Didn't she +pray and beseech me not to take her back? There, be easy! I've no +breath for chattering, woman. Keep the lantern dark, and steer her +straight out." + +As he spoke there came another flash from the shore, and a rocket sped +upward to the black sky. + +Day uttered a grim exclamation of satisfaction. + +"The fools!" he ground out; "they've showed me the way! The schooner +lies due north of the customs, where that rocket started from! Keep +her straight, lass, and we'll slip 'em yet. They won't risk their boat +out--it's worse near the beach than it be here clear of the rocks. Sit +still and fear nought!" + +With the cool courage belonging to his class, he pulled steadily on, +his wife grasping the tiller--for Margaret lay motionless and inert +enough now--and peering into the darkness. + +Suddenly she uttered a cry. + +"The schooner, James! I saw her light for a moment!" + +"Ay!" he responded coolly; "she's heard the gun and seen the rocket, +and thinks we may be harking back. Show a glim of the lantern toward +her, but keep it from the shore." + +Cautiously Mrs. Day raised the lantern, with its light side toward the +vessel, and an instant afterward a faint light appeared and then went +out. + +Day laughed cheerily. + +"She sees us, lass. Keep up thee heart; it's all right. I've give them +chaps the slip once more!" + +"Yes, once more!" she responded, with a groan; "but some day or +other----" + +"Tut, tut! thee'st lost thee nerve, woman," he broke in, curtly. + +She sank back with a heavy sigh and said no more. + +Presently they saw the light again, this time close upon their bow, and +in a few minutes the boat grated against the side of the schooner. + +"Is that you, James?" inquired a voice. + +Day answered in the affirmative. + +"Yes; worse luck. Let the rope down the other side away from the shore; +you can show a light then. I've got womenfolk aboard." + +He pulled round to the larboard, and the lantern showed a rope ladder. + +"Lend a hand here," he said, and he raised Margaret. + +The man on board uttered an exclamation. + +"Sakes a-mercy, James, what have you got there?" he demanded. + +"It's my cousin," said Mrs. Day, before her husband could answer. + +"Oh, and it's you, too, Mrs. Day, is it?" said the captain, in a tone +of surprise. "Well, it's a rare night for ladies to be out in! And your +cousin! Bless my soul, but she's swooned." + +Between them they got Margaret on deck, and Mrs. Day had her carried +down to the cabin, and then, asking for some brandy, locked the door on +the men. + +It was some time before Margaret recovered consciousness, and for some +minutes she looked round with a listless indifference that was worse +almost than the swoon from which she had roused. + +At last she asked the inevitable question: "Where am I?" + +"Here with me, dear lady," replied Mrs. Day, beginning to cry for the +first time, "and Heaven be thanked that you are not lying dead in +Appleford sands!" + +Margaret drew a long sigh. + +"I--I thought I had died," she moaned, and turning her face to the +wall, said no more. + +Mrs. Day sat down beside her, praying that she might sleep, for she +knew that it was her only chance; and after a time Margaret fell into +that stupor of exhaustion which is the nearest approach to nature's +great restorer. + +Presently there came a knock at the door, and opening it, Mrs. Day +found her husband outside. + +"How is she?" he asked. + +"Better, poor soul!" she replied. + +"Well," he said, "you'd better come on deck. The captain's upset and +has been asking me questions about 'un." + +"And what did you say?" she demanded anxiously. + +"Well," he retorted, with a grim smile, "seeing as you've started the +game, I thought as how you'd better continue it, so I left 'em to you." + +She stood for a moment thinking deeply, then followed him on deck. + +The schooner was scudding along at a pace which put all danger from +pursuit out of the question; but the captain, who was leaning against +the bulwarks smoking a pipe, did not look at all comfortable or amiable. + +"Well, Mrs. Day," he began at once, "what's this yarn about your +cousin? Sakes alive! I'm fond of your sex enough, but I like 'em best +on shore. Who is she, and what is she doing out in the boat?" + +"She's my cousin, Captain Daniel," said Mrs. Day promptly, "and she's +in trouble. I don't know as I ought to tell you the story, but seeing +that we brought her on board----" + +"Just so, and that's what I object to," he said gruffly. "It's work +enough to take the trade quiet and snug, as it is, but with a woman +aboard that nobody knows anything about----" he puffed at his pipe +significantly. + +"You can trust her," said Mrs. Day; "there's no fear of her splitting, +Captain Daniel." + +"Oh, you think she'll die?" he said, looking mightily relieved. + +"No, no! But there are reasons why she should keep her own counsel, +though she is a woman. You wait until morning, captain, and you'll see +whether she's to be trusted or not." + +She spoke with such a confident air that he relaxed a little. + +"Well, you and yours are in the same boat, remember, Mrs. Day, and if +harm comes to us, your James will share it! Don't forget that." + +"I do not forget it, captain," she responded. + +"Very well," he said. "I'll leave it to you. Make the poor soul as +comfortable as possible. The Rose of Devon wasn't chartered to carry +lady passengers, but we'll do the best we can. You'll find some extra +bedclothes, and that like, in my cabin; and I'll see to the supper by +the time you're ready. As to liquor"--he grinned--"well, I dare say we +can find a glass or two of that!" + +"I dare say!" said Mrs. Day with an answering smile, and she hurried +back to the cabin and to Margaret. + + + + +CHAPTER XVII. + + +Blair rode on toward Ilfracombe, his cigar between his lips, his +handsome face wearing its best and brightest look. He was, as he would +have expressed it, as happy as a sandboy; and the only thing that +could have increased his happiness would have been to have had Margaret +with him. + +It would be an exaggeration to say that he thought of nothing else +but her as he rode along; but it is true that she was present in his +thoughts nearly all the time, and that as he looked seaward, where the +green water lay like an opal in the sun, or inland, where the yellow +cornfields glittered like gold across the blue sky, he thought how much +she would have admired it, and how her artist soul would revel in its +beauty. + +After riding some time he saw a couple of men lying by the roadside. +They were fishermen from Appleford, who had, perhaps, been to +Ilfracombe, and were resting. + +"I'm right for Ilfracombe, I suppose?" said Blair. + +The men touched their hats. + +"Yes, sir, you're right," said one; "but you have come a long way +round. You should have cut across the cliff by the narrow lane through +Lee." + +"Eh?" said Blair, standing in his stirrups and looking about him. + +The man got up, and shading his eyes, pointed to the place indicated. + +"That's the way; it's but a bit of a lane, but it saves a mile or more." + +"Thanks!" said Blair. "I'll remember it, and come back that way." + +As he spoke, a man, who had been climbing the hill behind Blair and the +two fishermen, came suddenly, as it were, upon them. He stopped short, +and in an adept fashion sunk easily to the ground, where he lay and +listened, within almost touch of them, and yet unseen. + +"Yes, I understand," said Blair; "nice day, isn't it. You fellows have +a cigar?" + +A fisherman may be a teetotaler, but he always smokes. + +Blair took out his cigar case; there were just two cigars left, and he +gave them to the men. + +"Bean't we robbing you, sir?" said one of the men, rather shyly, +offering the case back; but Blair pushed it toward them. + +"Plenty more in 'Combe," he said, with a smile, "and this will last me +some time." + +Then he rode on, having made, by a few pleasant words and two cigars, +two friends who would have risked their lives on his behalf. + +He reached 'Combe at last, the colt having settled down to a steady +pace, and putting him up at the hotel stables, he went into the town to +buy Margaret's things, even before he had his lunch. + +There was a very good artist's colorman, and he displayed a selection +of portable easels, and canvases, and colors which bewildered Blair. + +"Look here," he said, at last; "you know the sort of things a lady +wants, don't you know. Just put up as much as I can carry on horseback, +and send the rest to this address." + +This being the kind of order a shopkeeper's soul delighteth in, the man +beamed, and soon had a very bulky looking heap collected in the middle +of the shop. + +"All right," said Blair; "sure you have got everything?" + +The man, after vainly endeavoring to think of some other useless +articles, said rather grudgingly, "Yes." + +"Very well then. What's the damage? I'll put the paint boxes in my +pockets, and I can tie a small parcel of the other things to the +saddle, and the rest you can send on; but mind, I want them sent at +once! You people down here are rather slow sometimes. I can't have this +lady kept waiting." + +He gave the address, paid the bill, which did not in the least astonish +him, though our friend had charged about fifty per cent. above his +usual prices--and afterwards almost wept because he hadn't stuck on +double!--and then went to the hotel and had his lunch. + +He made a very hearty meal, for Blair, in love or trouble, being as +strong as a lion and always on the move, was a capital trencherman, and +then went over to look at the town. + +He was in the humor to be pleased with anything, and the place, with +its picturesque coast scenery and general air of brisk cheerfulness, +just suited him. + +"I'll bring Madge here, by George!" he said to himself. "She'll be +delighted with it." + +To give her some idea of the place he bought a dozen or two photographs +and stuffed them in his pockets; then he saw a trinket cleverly made of +the tiniest shells set in silver, and he bought that. + +Some little time he spent sitting on a seat on the walk round the +Capstan Hill, and would have stayed longer, but suddenly there came +round the corner a figure he knew. + +It was that of Colonel Floyd. Blair, forgetting that he was supposed +to be on the Continent, was just jumping up to greet him with a hearty +"Hallo, old man!" when he remembered himself, and catching up a +newspaper, got behind it. The colonel lounged past in his languid, _nil +admirari_ fashion, and passed out of sight. + +Blair let the paper fall, and for the first time that morning his face +grew clouded. + +"Confound all this mystery and concealment!" he muttered, impatiently. +"By George! I'll have no more of it! I hate this skulking about like a +bank-clerk who has bolted with the till and is dodging the detectives. +I'll have no more of it! I'll take Madge to the earl next week, and +make a clean breast of it. Even he can't be such a savage as not to +melt at that smile of hers." + +The resolution brightened him, as all good resolutions do, and +considering that the colt had had rest enough, he went back to the +hotel, and ordered him to be brought round. + +The colt was in excellent spirits, and Blair rode along, humming a song +and thinking of Margaret--and his dinner. + +The color tubes rattled in his pockets, and his bulging pockets banged +against his side, but he didn't mind in the least; he was doing +something for his Madge. + +By this time--he had not hurried going, and had been a good spell in +the pretty town--the sun was setting, and the black mass of cloud was +rising portentously. + +"We shall get wet jackets, my friend," he said to the colt, and he put +him to a quicker pace. + +Mindful of the short cut which the men had pointed out in the morning, +he rode up the rather steep hill, and without any difficulty found the +lane. + +It was, as they had said, a narrow lane, between two high banks. There +was a tree here and there, and every now and then a gate opening into +the fields on either side; it was steep, too, and not very easy, and +Blair was obliged to go slowly. + +"Seems to me," he said to the colt, "that we could move faster going +across the downs, my friend. Never mind, it's a long lane that has no +turning! Jove, here it comes!" he broke off, as a flash of lightning +and a clap of thunder burst forth. + +"Steady, old man, you are master, you know; I'm a stranger." + +The rain dropped suddenly, in a sheet, as it seemed, and Blair stopped +to turn up his coat collar, and see that Madge's tools were protected +by the lappets of his pockets. He had very little objection to getting +wet himself, but he meant to carry home the day's spoil to her +uninjured, if he could manage it. + +At the moment he was fumbling with the reins, held loosely in his hand, +a shout, a yell was heard behind him. + +It was man's voice, presumably; but it was so unearthly, so discordant, +that even Blair started. As for the colt, he gave one side-way jump, +then started off helter-skelter, mad with fright. + +"Steady, old man!" said Blair, tightening the rein. "It was a rum +noise, but don't lose your head. Steady!" and he laughed. + +But the laugh died on his lips, for, while the horse was still on the +bolt, he saw one of the field gates lying right across the narrow road. + +Now, at any time, this is a sight which is calculated to make a +horseman look and feel serious; because however slowly the horse may be +going, if he is not pulled up in time before he reaches the prostrate +gate, his legs will get entangled in the bars, and he must inevitably +fall. But when a horse is bolting, the situation becomes dangerous and +deadly. + +To pull him up in time Blair saw would be impossible, even for him. He +looked swiftly at the banks on either side, with the idea of turning +him up them, but they were too high. There was only one thing to do, +and that was to drop off as easily as possible as the horse fell. + +A moment more and the catastrophe came. The runaway horse's fore-feet +struck between the top bars, his off hind leg caught the lower one, and +with a crash and a startled shake of the head, the colt came down all +of a heap. + +Blair had been ready a moment before, and as the horse fell he managed +to get out of the stirrups and roll out of the saddle. + +It was nicely and cleanly done, as only a steeplechaser could have done +it, and he was on his legs and bending over the horse almost the next +instant. + +Plunging and kicking, the colt tried to extricate himself from the +awful trap, and Blair had coaxed him on his legs, and was leading him +out when he heard a strange noise behind him, and saw a tall form +standing on the bank above his head. + +At that instant, for the first time the thought of foul play occurred +to him. Grasping the bridle with one hand and his whip with the other, +he turned and looked up. + +The sky was black as night, but a flash of lightning clove the heavens +just then, and by its lurid light he saw the face of Jem Pyke. He +thought that he was dreaming. It seemed too incredible. When last he +had seen the man it had been at Leyton, where Pyke lived. How could he +possibly be here? + +He gazed up at him for a second or two, which seemed an age; then he +opened his lips to speak, but the thunder roared and blotted out his +voice. + +With a wild laugh the man glowered down upon him motionless as Blair +himself, then, with a spring, threw himself upon him. + +Blair squared his shoulders to meet the shock, but Pyke, though lean, +was tall, and his long form, aided by the impetus of his leap, bore +Blair to the ground. + +There was a terrible struggle, at which the frightened horse stood +looking as if it were a horrified human being; then Pyke got his +fingers round Blair's throat, and, pressing against it, shook him +heavily. + +"At last!" he shouted, between a hiss and a growl. "At last, +mister! I've waited a long time, but it's my turn now, I think. You +fine-tongued gentleman! I'll--I'll kill you. You thought I'd forgotten +you, eh? You thought I was going to let you go scot free, did you? Ah! +you'll know me better when I've done with you." + +Blair struggled as hard as he could, but the man's long, bony fingers +were like steel, and, with a shrug of his shoulders, he felt that his +time had come. But even at that moment the old spirit came to the +front, and, though he could not speak, he smiled up at the livid face +of his assailant. + +The smile seemed to madden the man. + +"What! you grin, do ye?" he said, between his teeth. "I'll teach you! +I'll humble you!" Then an idea seemed to strike him, and, kneeling on +Blair's chest, he said, "But I'll give you a chance, my lord, even now, +curse me if I don't. Say, 'I beg your pardon,' and I'll let you go." + +With the intention of giving Blair an opportunity for the apology, his +grasp slackened slightly. + +It was a small opening, but Blair seized it. + +With a tremendous effort he writhed himself free, and grasping Pyke by +the forearm, raised himself to his feet, and forced Pyke to his knees. + +"You miserable hound!" he said, with his short, curt laugh. "Beg your +pardon, you mad fool! I'll teach you to set traps for a good horse, +that's worth ten of you! You put the gate there, did you? Look here, +I'll make you carry it back to its place before I've done with you! Ah, +and beg my pardon, too, into the bargain!" and with a tremendous force +he flung the man backward. + +Pyke was on his feet instantly, and the two men confronted each other, +not as they had done on Leyton Green, for then Blair's face wore a +smile, and there was joy and contentment in his heart, at the prospect +of a fair fight, but now he knew that it would be as foul as his +opponent could make it. + +The sky grew blacker; the rain pelted down upon them, but neither of +them noticed the weather. + +With a bound they sprung at each other, dealing heavy blows, and taking +them as if they were feather-down. The result was a foregone one. +Blair had been riding, the man had been walking, and was weakened by +passion. His blows grew lighter and slower, his breath came in short, +deep gasps; Blair knew that another minute would make him the victor, +and, already relenting, he was about to call to Pyke and offer him +quarter, when the man, stepping back, pointed beyond Blair, and shouted: + +"Look! the lady!" + +Blair turned. There was only one lady that could rush to his mind, and +that was Margaret, and he thought, in the flash of the moment, that she +had come to meet him. He turned, and Pyke caught up a heavy stick that +lay where he had dropped it at his first spring, and struck Blair an +awful blow on the back of the head. + +Without a cry he went down face foremost, his arms outstretched, and +lay like a figure carved in stone. + +Pyke stood over him, looking down at him with livid face and panting +breath. + +There was a pause in the storm at that moment, as if the wind and the +rain had stopped to look on; then the elements resumed their warfare, +and a flash of lightning played over the prostrate man's head. + +Pyke went down on his knees, and with trembling hands turned the +motionless form on its face, and peered at it. + +Then he started back with an oath. + +"I've done for him!" he muttered, hoarsely, and the wind seemed to echo +mockingly: "Done for him." "He's as dead as a herring! Curse him, it +serves him right!" he ground out, and he raised his foot, but withheld +the kick as a thought--the thought of self-preservation--came to him. +"Looks ugly!" he muttered, "cursed ugly. There's more trouble in this +than I thought on!" + +He looked up and down the lane and across the hedge with the keen, +fearful face of a man who already hears the pursuers; then buttoning +his wet coat round him, and giving a parting glance at the still form, +began to run--like Cain. + +He went in the direction of Lee, and was so absorbed in the one idea of +flight, that a dark object which stood beside the hedge just before him +made him spring aside, and almost shout with fear. + +But it was only the colt, which, too frightened by the storm, and +disheartened by the rain, was cowering under the lee of the hedge. + +Pyke was hurrying by it, when he pulled up suddenly, and struck his leg +as if welcoming an inspiration. + +"Dang it!" he cried, exultingly, "that's the game. Woa, horse, woa, +horse," and he crept slowly up to the colt. + +The animal was far too cowed to attempt flight, and Pyke got hold of +the bridle easily. But he did not mount. Instead, he unfastened one +stirrup and struck the colt with it. The horse, maddened by fear, +started and shook, then tore down the lane at breakneck pace. + +Pyke waited a moment listening to the clatter of its hoofs mingling +with the rain and the thunder, then quickly retracing his steps +returned to Blair. + +He still lay where his assailant had left him. Pyke knelt down and +thrust one unresisting foot into the stirrup, then he dragged the body +for a few yards along the wet road and left it lying on its back, +leaped over the hedge and fled. But once more he came back, and lifting +the gate replaced it on its hinges and fastened it. + + + + +CHAPTER XVIII. + + +Mr. Austin Ambrose was spending an extremely unpleasant evening. It +sounds as if it would be a very nice thing to play with one's fellow +creatures as if they were puppets--to pull the wires which govern their +actions, and to make them dance to one's piping; but the wire-puller +has sometimes a very uncomfortable time of it. + +Mr. Austin Ambrose had up to the present found his puppets quite docile +and obedient to the pulling of the wires. He had got Lord Blair and +Margaret secretly married, he had hidden them away at Appleford; his +puppet Lottie had played her part really quite admirably, and Margaret +was fully convinced that she had been betrayed and ruined by the man +she loved. + +So far, so well; but still Mr. Austin Ambrose was uncomfortable. He had +left Margaret to herself, knowing that if so left she would be more +likely to carry out his desire and fly, than if he remained with her. + +But he did not mean to lose sight of her; it was his intention to +travel by the same train if possible, and to track her, unseen himself, +to her place of refuge. + +So he went and placed himself on the road leading to the station, and +lighting a cigarette, waited as patiently as he could. + +Hour passed after hour, and still she did not come. Then the clouds +rose, and the sky grew murky, and presently the storm broke. + +"Confound women!" he muttered, vainly trying to light the last of his +cigarettes; "you can never count upon them. I would have sworn that +she would have made for the station; and yet she hasn't. She's waiting +to see Blair, after all. Well, I'll go and see. There'll be a scene +presently, if she remains, and I hate a scene!" + +With his coat-collar turned up he climbed to the cottage and knocked. + +There was no answer; and after waiting and knocking again, he opened +the door. + +To his amazement, the cottage seemed deserted. He was calling Mrs. Day +impatiently, when a woman came running with her apron over her head +from the neighboring cottage. + +"Mrs. Day's out, sir. She's gone down to the beach," she said in answer +to his inquiries, "and I've got the children with me. It's lonely for +'em here, and such a storm raging." + +"But--but Mrs. Stanley?" he said quickly; "she's in, is she not?" + +The woman stared at him. + +"Mrs. Stanley, sir--the lady, sir? Oh, no; she went out hours ago." + +"Nonsense!" he said roughly. "I beg your pardon; I mean that it is +impossible that she should be out in this storm." + +"Yes, but she is, sir. I saw her go down the path in the afternoon with +her mackintosh on her arm. I think she went to meet her good gentleman." + +Austin Ambrose started, and his face flushed. + +If she had, and they had met before--well, before something that he +hoped had happened--all his plans, all his deeply and skillfully laid +plots would be smashed and pulverized. + +He turned his back to the woman, that she might not see his face. + +"I--I think she must be in the house still," he said, with a sudden +hope; "she may have come back, you know." + +"She may, but I don't think she could without my seeing her. +Howsomever, it's easy to find out." And she lit a candle and went up +the stairs, calling respectfully, "Mrs. Stanley, are you in, ma'am?" +while Austin Ambrose listened intently. + +In a minute or two she came down. + +"No, sir, she's not in the house. I'm afraid the poor lady's in the +storm; leastways, unless she's taken shelter." + +Austin Ambrose caught up his hat. + +"If she should come in before I return," he said, hurriedly, "ask her +to wait till I see her and speak with her. Do you hear? Do not let her +go. You understand?" + +The woman, frightened by his pallor and sternness, dropped a courtesy, +and he rushed out and down the path. + +If she had gone down the road to Ilfracombe, and had met Blair! His +heart almost ceased beating at the thought. She would meet Blair, and, +he knew too well, frustrate the elaborate plot, and ruin the plotter. + +He gained the entrance of the road to 'Combe; two or three men were +standing under the shelter of a shed, with their tools beside them. + +"Have you been working here--in the fields?" he inquired. + +"Yes, master, and we be drenched through, we be!" said one. + +"Have you seen a lady--a lady with a veil--come this way--to +Ilfracombe, I mean?" he said, trying to steady his voice. "I am afraid +she has got caught in the storm." + +The men shook their heads. + +"No," said he who had spoken first; "no one has been along this road +'cepting the gentleman who rode Farmer James' colt this morning." + +"I know--I mean I don't know," said Austin Ambrose, catching himself +up. "Are you sure?" + +"Sure and sartain!" said another man. "We've been working in sight o' +the road all day, and the lady couldn't a passed without our seeing +her. Have you got a bit of 'bacca, your honor?" + +He tossed them a shilling, and hurried back. It was just possible that +she may have gone to the station by another road than that which he had +watched. Fighting his way against the wind and rain, he reached the +station. + +From one and another of the porters he inquired if she had been seen, +and the answer was the same. No lady answering to Madge's description +had reached the station. Half wild with impatience and fear--not for +her, by any means, certainly not; but for himself!--he returned to the +beach. + +As he did so he saw a gang of fishermen and sailors standing under the +lee of a rock, and peering out to sea. + +They did not hear him approach, and, in his noiseless fashion, he got +close up to them and within hearing unnoticed. + +"No boat could put out from the beach, man," said the old man with +whom Margaret had spoken that morning. "We've tried it with the best +of them, the Lass and the Speedwell, and it ain't no manner o' use. +'Sides, where's the good? the tide have swept over the rock an hour +agone!" + +"And you're sure you seed her?" asked a man. + +"Do 'ee think I've gone silly all in a moment?" retorted the old +fellow, pettishly. "I tell 'ee, I seed her on the top, half a-sitting +and half a-lying. I did think as I'd get up and go to her, but I'd +warned her in the morning, this very blessed morning; and the missus +come and called me in to tea, and--and bla'-me if I didn't forget her." + +"Oh, she's lost! She's drownded, as sure as a gun! Well, sakes a mercy, +but it's a pity." + +"We've all got to die," remarked a man philosophically; "and most on +us dies by drownding; but then we're used to it, which makes all the +difference." + +Austin Ambrose pushed his way into their midst, startling them not a +little. + +"Of whom are you talking?" he demanded, and his voice sounded harsh and +stern. + +The old man touched his forehead and puffed at his pipe. + +"It's the poor young lady up at Mrs. Day's, your honor," he said; +"she've been and got washed off the Long Rock----" + +Austin Ambrose put his hand up with a strange gesture, as if to stop +him, and his face grew livid. + +"What?" he cried hoarsely. "You say--oh, impossible!" + +The old man shook his head. + +"It's the possiblest thing as can be," he said grimly. "Seed her there +myself, and I thought she'd gone to look at the tide. I never thought +as she'd stop there after the warning I give her. I told her about the +lady and gentleman as was lost there two year agone," he added to the +others. + +Austin Ambrose rushed out to the rocks and stared before him like a man +dazed. Then he sprung to his feet. + +"I'll give any man twenty pounds who will launch a boat and search for +her," he cried hoarsely. + +There was a profound silence. Then the old fisherman said grimly: + +"Twenty pun ain't much for a man's life, your honor." + +"I will give fifty--a hundred!" he cried desperately. + +"Bless your honor's heart," said the old man slowly, "no boat could +live in this--that is, near the beach--it might in the open! It's to be +hoped it will, for Day's out," he said significantly. "No, your honor, +a thousand pounds wouldn't tempt us; besides, it's too late! too late! +The poor lady is drifting out to the sands, and the last's been seen of +her or ever will be seen on this earth!" + +Austin Ambrose uttered a cry, an awful cry. They who heard it thought +that it was that of sorrowing friend or relative; but the cry was +one of pity for himself and all his shattered hopes. After all his +cleverness, his deep-laid schemes and restless toil, he had been +foiled--and by the woman he had fooled and deceived! + +It was maddening. And indeed as he reeled away from the group he looked +like a man demented. + +Suddenly he heard a shout and staggered back. + +A man came running toward them with something in his hand. He held the +wet and dripping articles on high and surveyed his companions gravely. + +"The old 'un's right!" he said slowly. "Here be the poor lady's cape +and hat!" + +Austin Ambrose tore them from the man's hand. + +"Are you sure?" he gasped. + +"Yes," came a grave chorus. "We've see'd her wear 'em, time and again. +They're hers, and she's lost, poor soul!" + +Austin Ambrose walked away with the hat and cape in his hands. + +At the back of the beach, on the quay, was a small inn, through whose +red curtains the light shone cheerily. He pushed open the door and +entered with unsteady gait. The little place was full of sailors and +fishermen, all talking about the sad event, and recalling the similar +fatality of two years ago. As he entered they became suddenly silent. + +"Give me some brandy!" he said, hoarsely. + +The landlady mixed him a glass of hot brandy-and-water, and he took it +in both hands and drank it; then he sank on to a seat, and with tightly +compressed lips stared at the door. + +For the time he was unconscious of the presence of the others, deaf to +their voices, which arose again in a hushed tone. + +"It's the awfulest night," said one, "the awfulest! The poor +gentleman's out in it, too! Farmer James have gone down the road to +look for him. He's afeard the colt will be skeared by the lightning." + +"Ah," said another; "not come back yet, poor gentleman? What a terrible +story it will be to tell him. They beant long been mated, have they?" + +"Hush!" said a warning whisper, and the speaker nodded toward the +crouching figure. "Her brother, most like," he added, in a whisper. +"He's took all aback, poor fellow." + +There was silence again, then they commenced to talk once more, and +still Austin Ambrose sat still and motionless. + +Suddenly the door was flung open, and a short, active-looking man +dashed in. + +"Why, Farmer James!" cried one of two, "what's amiss, man?" + +"Give me time!" panted the farmer. "It's a night o' bad news, boys! +The colt's come home--without him!" + +The men sprung to their feet, and looked at the speaker aghast. + +"Without the gentleman, farmer?" + +"Ay," he said solemnly, wiping the perspiration from his face. "I met +the colt tearing down the road to the stable with the saddle empty. A +lantern, missis, quick. Who'll lend a hand, boys?" + +One and all turned out and proceeded at something between a trot and a +run into the road. + +At a little distance the colt stood, wet and trembling, held by a boy. +They paused a moment to stare at it and then passed on. + +Austin Ambrose, uninvited by them, joined the group and ran with them. + +They stopped a moment where the two roads joined, the one Blair had +taken in the morning, the other he was returning by in the evening. + +"Let's divide," said a man; but the farmer stooped down and examined +the road. + +"No occasion," he said; "here's the colt's hoof-marks. This is the road +she come!" + +Hurrying along, they climbed the narrow lane, and the foremost, a young +lad carrying the lantern, stopped with a cry at the motionless form +lying in the road. + +There was a hush as the men crowded round. The farmer knelt down and +examined it for a moment, then he looked up. + +"I'm afeared he's dead," he said gravely. + +"Is--is it foul play, do 'ee think, Farmer James?" inquired one of the +men. + +"Foul play!" the words ran round. "Why do 'ee say that?" + +The man, a small, sharp-eyed old fellow, pointed to the road. + +"Looks as if there'd been a struggle," he said. "But no matter now. +Take that gate off its hinges, lads, and lay him on it. We'll carry him +down to the Holme." + +The gate was torn off its hinges--how little they guessed that it was +not for the first time that night!--and some coats laid upon it; then +they stooped to raise poor Blair. + +As they did so, Austin Ambrose slid forward. + +At the sound of the words "foul play," he had aroused. All was lost; +Margaret dead, Blair dead; all his toil and ingenuity thrown away. But +if these rustics were suspicious it was time to think of his own safety. + +"Let me see!" he said, in a low voice. "He--he is a friend of mine. +Who said 'foul play?' If I thought so--but, no! Look!" and he pointed +to the stirrup through which the foot was thrust. "My poor friend was +thrown from the saddle; the mare bolted and must have dragged him. His +foot is still in the stirrup." + +"That's true," said one. "Ah! if that stirrup leather had slipped out +sooner----" + +Almost in silence they carried him down to the small farm called the +Holme; and the good-hearted people roused from their beds did their +best for him. + +In a short time he was undressed and put to bed. + +Austin Ambrose, calm and self-possessed, but very sorrowful, showed the +affliction of a brother. + +"I am afraid it is all over!" he said, as they gathered round the bed +and looked at the handsome face and stalwart form, which many of them +had seen depart in the morning so full of life and happiness. + +After a time the doctor came. He was an old man, who had worn himself +out in the hard practice of a wild country-side. Accidents were his +daily experience, and he fell to work in the cool, business-like way +acquired by custom. + +White and breathless, Austin Ambrose, who had been permitted to remain +during the examination, waited for the verdict. It came at last. + +"He's not dead," said the old doctor, gravely, "and that's about all +that can be said. It was a terrible blow!" + +Austin Ambrose's lips contracted, and his eyes sought the old man's +weather-beaten face keenly. + +"A blow, doctor?" he said, gravely. + +"Yes," was the reply; "he was struck on the back of the head, sir." + +Austin Ambrose uttered an exclamation. + +"Oh, impossible, doctor!" he said. "Who should do such a thing? My poor +friend had not an enemy in the world." + +"Plunder?" said the old man, questioningly. + +Austin Ambrose shook his head. + +"His purse, watch, jewelry, even the things he purchased at Ilfracombe, +are untouched. Besides, we found him lying, his foot still entangled in +the stirrup, as you have heard." + +"Humph!" said the doctor, still at work with restoratives. "Well, he +must have fallen on the back of his head; but"--he looked puzzled and +frowned thoughtfully--"but it's very strange. If I hadn't known what +you have just told me, I should say that he had been struck, and that +if he should die, the coroner's verdict would have to be 'Willful +murder!'" + +Austin Ambrose's lips twitched, but he shook his head and sighed. + +"Thank Heaven that I have no such suspicion--it would be too dreadful! +No, my poor friend was thrown and dragged by the frightened horse. It +is, alas! too common an accident." + +"Yes, yes, just so," said the doctor. "It's a pity, a thousand pities, +for he is a splendid fellow," and he looked with sad admiration on the +stalwart form. "What is his name?" + +Austin Ambrose hesitated a moment. + +"His name is Stanley. He is a very dear friend of mine," he added, "and +only recently married." + +The old doctor started. + +"You don't mean to say that he's the husband of the unfortunate young +lady who was drowned off Long Rock this morning?" + +Austin Ambrose nodded, the doctor sighed. + +"Well, sir, I'll do my best to bring him back to life; but it will be +cruel kindness, I fear, under the circumstances. Poor young fellow! But +if he should die he will be spared the misery awaiting him!" + +"You--you think there is no hope of her escape?" faltered Austin. + +The doctor shook his head. + +"There may be a faint hope for him," he said, pointing to the bed. "But +for her there is none, none whatever. She was seen on the rocks; they +tell me that her cape and hat have been found washed ashore. No; if he +should die they will not be long apart. But you look worn out, sir, you +had better get some rest." + +Austin Ambrose shook his head. + +"I will not go until----" and he stopped significantly. + +For the remainder of the night they watched beside the still form. Life +was in yet, beating faintly, like a flickering lamp; but the dawn came, +and Blair still remained hovering between the shores of the River of +Death. + +The morning passed. The whole village was in a state of excitement over +the two accidents; that they should have happened on the same day, and +to man and wife, seemed phenomenal, and every one of the inns drove a +roaring trade with the crowds of excited men. + +There was the chance, too, of another fatality, for the Days' boat had +disappeared, and it was rumored that she had gone down in the storm. + +Toward evening, however, the crowd collected on the beach, for the boat +had been sighted. + +Austin Ambrose had left Blair for a short rest, but he could neither +sleep nor remain quiet, and his restless feet had dragged him to +Appleford. + +He stood just on the edge of the crowd watching the boat with +lack-luster eyes that shone dully in his pallid face. + +There was a rush and a cheer as the boat came in, and two or three men +ran out into the water--it was smiling calmly enough now--to haul her +in, but as her keel touched the beach, Day held up his hand. + +"Don't cheer, lads," he said, gravely; "I've bad news." + +"Ay, ay, we can guess, James," said a voice, "you've seen the poor +lady!" + +Day started and glanced at his wife, who sat in the stern, her shawl to +her eyes. + +"Tell 'em, you," he said, in a whisper. + +She raised her head. + +"Yes," she said, with a sob, "I've seen the poor lady. We saw her on +the rocks, almost at the last moment." + +"And you couldn't get near?" said a man. + +She looked round. + +"Do you think we'd be here without her if there'd been half a chance?" +she said, reproachfully. + +"Ay, ay!" said the old boatswain. "Well, well, that settles it, and +that's some'at of a comfort! The poor soul's gone! Don't 'ee cry, +missis!" he added as he helped Mrs. Day out of the boat. + +It so happened that as she stepped on the beach she was near Austin +Ambrose. + +He had been listening in a kind of stupor, his eyes wandering from Mrs. +Day's face to her husband's. + +At the moment of her landing he was so near that her arm touched his. + +As it did so his eyes fell upon the shawl which she had been pressing +to her eyes. + +The sun was shining full on it, and in the dull vague fashion peculiar +to his frame of mind his eye was following the pattern. + +Suddenly he started, and a light shone in his eyes. + +"Let me help you," he said, and gently but firmly he laid his hand upon +her arm covered by the shawl. + +And, as he did so, the light gleamed still more brightly in his face, +for he discovered that the shawl with which she had been wiping away +her tears--_was dry_! + + + + +CHAPTER XIX. + + +Mr. Austin Ambrose walked back to Lee with a step that had regained its +usual elasticity, and with hope again beaming in his eyes. + +Few men would have been sharp enough to notice, in the midst of such +excitement, so trivial a fact that Mrs. Day's shawl was dry; but Mr. +Austin Ambrose was not an ordinary man, and in an instant his acute +brain was hard at work. + +If Mrs. Day had been out in the boat all night, as she would have them +believe, then her shawl would have been still wet; but as it was dry, +then Mrs. Day must have been somewhere to dry it, and Austin Ambrose +felt, with that kind of conviction which is more a matter of faith than +reason, that Margaret had been with her. + +He felt as certain as that he was walking along the road that the Days +had rescued Margaret from the rock, and had taken her to some place of +safety, and that for some reason, best known to themselves, the Days +had agreed to conceal the fact, and lead the public to believe that +Margaret had perished. + +"That woman wasn't crying," he muttered to himself as he walked +along; "her eyes were as dry as the shawl! No; Margaret is in hiding +somewhere, and those Days know where. Now, if Blair will only kindly +pull round, I am all right." + +When in the Holme, he learned that "Mr. Stanley" was still unconscious, +and that there had been no change in his condition. + +"Get some one from London," he said to the old doctor, with an energy +which surprised him. "Get the best man--the very best: we _must_ save +him!" + +"You can send for Sir Astley," said the doctor, quietly; "but if we +send for the whole college of physicians, they can do no more than +we are doing. It is concussion of the brain, and the poor fellow's +magnificent constitution will fight for him far more effectually than +we can. He shall have every attention, trust me." + +Austin Ambrose acquiesced. Sir Astley might have seen Blair, and +recognize him, and, in any case, might talk about the affair when he +got back to London, and cause inquiries to be made. + +So the days wore on. No man could have received more attention than +Blair got at the hands of the old doctor, whose interest in the case +increased as it became more critical. + +Austin Ambrose, too, watched over him, as the people of the house +declared, "like a brother!" + +The case still puzzled the doctor, and he went one day and looked at +the spot where Blair had been found; but the feet of the people who had +searched for him had blotted out the impression of the struggle between +Pyke and Blair, and there was no trace left of the murderous assault. + +Chance had worked hard in Austin Ambrose's behalf, and if Blair should +only recover, all might yet go well with his plans. + +On the eighth day, toward evening, the doctor, who had been bending +over the bed with his fingers on Blair's pulse, looked up suddenly, and +motioned to the nurse and Austin Ambrose. + +"Shut out the light," he said, in a low voice. + +They drew the window curtains, and Austin Ambrose stepped up on tiptoe. + +"Is--is he coming to?" he asked breathlessly. + +The doctor nodded. + +"I think so. Let no one speak to him but me." + +They waited, and presently Blair opened his eyes and looked round with +a dazed inquiry. + +"Margaret!" he said. + +The doctor held up his hand warningly to the others. + +"Madge! Where are you?" he said again, almost inaudibly. + +"Your wife cannot come to you at present," replied the doctor quietly. +"Do not speak just yet." + +"Where am I? Have I been ill?" inquired Blair, knitting his brows, as +if trying to remember. "Ah, yes; the horse! Is the horse all right?" + +"The horse is all right," said the doctor. "I will tell you all about +it after you have had a good sleep. You have been very ill, and will be +worse if you do not sleep." + +"All right," he said, with a sigh. "Madge, my wife, is asleep, I +suppose? Have I been ill long? Don't wake her or distress her; I shall +be all right! Stop!" he exclaimed; "the paints and things, they are in +my pockets, and the easel will be sent on to-day. Give them to her! I +hope they haven't come to harm!" + +"They are all safe," said the doctor soothingly. + +"I'm glad," said Blair, with another sigh; "and the horse is all right? +Well, it's not so bad! I thought he had settled me, confound him!" + +The doctor thought he referred to the colt, but Austin Ambrose's cheeks +paled. + +He stepped forward noiselessly. + +"I am here, Blair," he murmured softly. "Take the doctor's advice, and +don't talk yet." + +"You, Austin, old fellow!" exclaimed Blair, trying to hold out his +hand. "Why, how did you hear of it? To come the same night. That's +kind. But how did you get here? and Madge--have you seen Madge? Don't +let her be frightened, Austin, I shall be up in an hour or two. Tell +her--no, don't tell her anything; leave it to me." + +"Very well," said Austin; "and now get some sleep, old fellow. I shan't +say another word." + +Blair closed his eyes, and presently the doctor looked up and nodded. + +"He is asleep, and is saved, please Heaven!" he said in a grave voice. + +All that Austin Ambrose had accomplished was as nothing to the task +that loomed before him. + +The time must come when Blair would ask for Margaret, and insist upon +seeing her. + +Many men would have shrunk from such an ordeal, but Austin Ambrose +was not the man to allow sentiment, as he would have called it, to +interpose between him and a long cherished design; so that when, on +awakening from the deep sleep which saved his life, Blair asked: "Where +is Margaret?" Austin Ambrose was prepared. + +"Blair," he said, laying his hand upon the sick man's, "are you strong +enough to hear what I have to tell you? I trust so, for I cannot keep +it from you." + +"Keep it from me! What is it?" demanded Blair, trying to raise himself. +"Is it anything to do with Madge? No, it can't be, of course. But why +doesn't she come? Ah, I see--give me a minute, Austin," and he turned +his head away. "My accident has frightened her, and she is ill." + +"Yes, she is ill!" said Austin Ambrose, watching him closely. "Blair, +for Heaven's sake, be brave, be calm." + +"What is it? You haven't told me all," he exclaimed. "Don't turn your +face away; tell me. Anything is better than suspense. Let me go to +her--bring her to me. She can't be so ill----" he paused, breathlessly. + +Austin Ambrose laid his hand upon his shoulder. + +"Blair, dear, dear Blair," he murmured; "she cannot come to you; you +cannot go to her. She has been very ill--Blair, your wife is dead!" + +The sick man looked at him and laughed. + +"That's a pretty kind of joke to play upon a man lying on his back," he +said. "Go and fetch her, and we'll laugh at it together--perhaps she'll +see the fun in it; I don't!" + +Then, as Austin Ambrose remained silent, Blair looked from him to the +doctor, who had entered--an awful look of anguished, fearful scrutiny. + +"I'm--I'm dreaming; that's what it is," he muttered. "Madge--don't +leave me. Take hold of my hand I--I dreamt somebody had told me you +were dead. Don't cry, dear. It's I who was nearly dead, not you; and +I'm all right now. Did you find the painting things? They're all +right, are they? I told Austin--I told----" he stopped short suddenly, +and uttered a cry, a heartrending cry, and raised himself so that he +could see Austin Ambrose's face. "I'm not asleep," he moaned; "I am +awake. And you are there--and you have just told me. Dead! Dead! +Austin--don't--keep--it from me! Tell me all. Look, I'll be quiet. I +won't utter a sound. Doctor, for Heaven's sake make him tell me." + +The doctor turned his face away. It was wet with tears; there was not a +tear in Austin Ambrose's eyes. + +"Shall I tell him--or wait?" he whispered to the doctor. The doctor +nodded. + +"Better now than later; the shock will be less now he is weak. Poor +fellow, poor fellow!" + +Austin Ambrose bent down, and in a few words scarcely audible, told +the story. He said nothing of the visitor who had come, nothing of +Margaret's anguish. According as he told it, Margaret had strolled +down to the rock and remained there too long, until the tidal wave had +caught her and washed her out to sea. + +Blair listened, his face pallid as that of death, his wide eyes fixed +gleamingly on the speaker's face, his hands clutching the quilt. Every +now and then his lips moved as if he were repeating the words as they +dropped cautiously from Austin Ambrose's lips, and when he had finished +he still leant upon his arm and looked at Austin with horror and +despair. + +Then, without a cry, he sank back upon the pillow and closed his eyes. + +"He has swooned," said Austin. "It was too soon." + +The doctor shook his head. + +"No; better now than later." + +After a moment or two Blair opened his eyes. + +"Have you told me all?" he demanded, and there was something in the +tone and the wild glare of his eye that smote Austin Ambrose and made +him quail. + +"Yes," he said, after a moment's pause, "everything has been done, +Blair. Everything. I think you will know that without my saying it. +There is no hope--there was none from the first. She was not seen after +the tide reached her--she will not be seen again. Blair, you will play +the man for--for all our sakes," and he pressed the hot hand clutching +the quilt. + +Blair looked at him and withdrew his hand; they saw his lips move once +or twice, and guessed whose name they formed; then he spoke. + +"Austin, did you ever pray?" It was a strange, a solemn question. "If +so, pray now, pray that I may die!" + +Over the weeks that followed it will be well to draw a veil; enough +that during them the strong man hovered between life and death, at +times raving madly and calling upon the woman he had loved and lost, +at others lying in a stupor which was Death's twin sister. + +As soon as he was able to walk with the aid of a stick, Blair got out +of the house unnoticed and made his way to Appleford. + +Pale and trembling he stood on the beach and looked at the rocks where +Margaret had been seen--looked until his eyes grew dim, then he crawled +back to the cottage. + +"You have been to Appleford?" said Austin, who had watched him. + +Blair lifted his heavy eyes. + +"Yes, I have been to Appleford," he said in a hollow voice. "I have +seen the last----" he stopped, and his breath came and went in quick +gasps. "Austin, while I live, my poor darling will be with me in my +thoughts but--but never speak her name to me. Never! I--I could not +bear it." + +"Yes!" murmured Austin Ambrose, sympathetically. "I understand. +You will fight your sorrow like a man Blair. Time--Time, the great +healer--will close over even so great a wound as yours, and you will be +able to speak of her, poor girl." + +Blair looked before him with lack-luster eyes. + +"Do you think that a man who had been thrust out of Heaven could ever +learn to forget the happiness he had lost?" he said, in a low voice. +"While life lasts I shall remember her, shall long to go to her! That +is enough," he added sternly; "we will never speak of her again!" + + + + +CHAPTER XX. + + +What passed in the cabin of the Rose of Devon between the two women, +Mrs. Day never told, not even to her husband. + +In the morning, while the Rose was sailing along the coast, she went to +the captain and requested that she and her husband might be taken as +near Appleford as possible, that they might get back in their boat. + +"My cousin will remain on board, Captain Daniel," she said. "She will +go with you across the Channel, and land at the first French port." + +Captain Daniel whistled. + +"You settle things easily, Mrs. Day," he said, with a half smile; "how +do you know I'll take her?" + +"You'll take her for my sake and your own," said Mrs. Day quietly. "For +mine because we are old friends, for yours because if she landed in +England there'd be questions asked about the Rose of Devon that might +be awkward to answer." + +"And how am I to know that I can trust her?" he said. + +"Because she has to trust you," said Mrs. Day. "Captain Daniel, my +cousin has just come through a great trouble, and she's as anxious as +you are that no one should know that she was ever aboard the Rose. If +you don't mention it when you get back to England, she won't, wherever +she is. You needn't require any oath; she's one whose word is as good +as her bond; she's a lady and different to me. Just land her at the +first place on the other side you touch, and say nothing. She'll pay +for her passage----" + +"Thank you, Mrs. Day," said the captain. "I don't want the poor woman's +money, and she's welcome to the run. As to keeping quiet, well, I think +we can do that as well as she can; and if she will say nothing about +the Rose, the Rose will say nothing about her. We know how to keep a +secret, I think! If she's got in trouble and wants to show a clean pair +of heels, well, I reckon we've been in the same plight, and may be, +shall be again. Anyway, whether or no, Captain Daniel isn't the man to +turn his back upon a woman in distress!" + +Mrs. Day gave him her hand with a simple dignity which would not have +shamed the first lady of the land. + +The Rose beat about, and in another hour or two Mrs. Day and her +husband got into their boat, and Margaret was left on the Rose of +Devon, which, spreading all sail, was cleaving its way to the French +coast. + +For two days she kept to her cabin. There was a young lad on board, +the captain's boy--a little mite of a fellow--and he waited upon her, +carrying all sorts of delicacies from the cook's galley to her cabin; +but Margaret, though she thanked him in a voice which made the lad's +heart leap and brought the color to his face, could touch nothing but a +little dry bread and tea, though she tried hard for the boy's sake. + +The rough-looking skipper, with the truest delicacy, left her to +herself, merely sending his compliments about twice a day, and a +request to be informed if there was anything he could do for her. + +On the third day she found courage to go on deck. The sailors looked +at her curiously at first, but something in her beautiful, wan face +appealed to their rough natures, and touching their caps, they went on +with their work. + +Margaret leaned against the bulwarks and looked out at the sea. She was +a good sailor, and the vast expanse of cloudless blue above and the +rolling water beneath her brought something of peace to her tortured +heart. + +Presently Captain Daniel came up with a deck chair in his hand and a +thick rug over his arm. With a little bow, he put the chair right for +her and spread the rug over it. + +"Glad to see you on deck, miss," he said shyly. "The air's rather +chilly; I'll fetch you another rug: there's plenty of them aboard." + +Margaret thanked him, her voice sounding weak and hollow. + +"I'm afraid I ought not to be here at all," she said, coloring; "you +are very kind to let me stay. It will not be for long--you will land me +soon, will you not?" + +Captain Daniel took off his hat. + +"You shall stay as long as you please, miss, and the longer you stay +the better the Rose of Devon will like it." + +"I am very grateful," she said in a low voice; "but I will not stay +after we reach a French port. Mrs. Day has told you----" She stopped, +and the captain took it up. + +"Mrs. Day has told me nothing more than that you are in trouble, miss, +and I reckon that's enough. There's no need for you to say anything! Me +and my ship and my men are at your service, and if there's one place +more than another you'd like to land at, say the word, and there the +Rose goes, fair wind or foul!" + +Then, without waiting for any response, he touched his hat and went aft. + +As he had spoken so Captain Daniel acted. + +The boy was ordered to make the cabin as comfortable as possible. An +awning was rigged up on deck to provide shelter for her, and the cook +taxed his inventive faculties to the utmost in the concoction of dishes +which he deemed suitable to an invalid lady. The rough sailors lowered +their voices as they went about their work, and even put out their +pipes when she came on deck. + +Their kindness, and the beauty of sea and sky, did more toward +Margaret's recovery than fifty doctors could have effected, and by the +time the Rose had sighted the French coast her face had lost something +of its wanness, and a faint color had found its way to her cheeks. + +She spent most of her time sitting on deck looking out to sea, trying +to piece together the broken fragments of her shattered life. + +For the future she had no plans, and could form none. Of what use or +value could her life be to her when the man she had loved and trusted +had broken her heart and left her desolate and utterly hopeless? + +But as they neared Brest on the Brittany coast, she felt she must come +to some decision. + +She was alive, alas! and the future lay before her; something had +to be done with it. Margaret, broken-hearted and weighed down by +sorrow as she was, was still the same Margaret, strong of purpose and +self-reliant. Love she had done with forever, happiness had passed +beyond her reach, but her art still remained to her--the mistress whom +those who serve find faithful to the end. + +As the Rose sailed into the harbor, Captain Daniel came up to Margaret. + +"We're nearing port, miss," he said, "but it don't follow that you +and the Rose need part company. Brest's a poor place for a lady to be +turned out in. If so be as you care to go on with us, why I'll pick up +a few things in the port here to make the cabin more fit for you. I'm +thinking, if you'll forgive me, miss, that the sea is doing you good, +and that if you'd come on with the Rose as far as Leghorn in Italy----" + +Margaret's face flushed faintly, and a light, the first that had shone +there for many a day, glowed in her eyes. The captain saw it and +pressed his point. + +"Italy's the place, miss!" he said, persuasively. "At Leghorn you'd be +near Florence and Rome, and all the grand sights! But here, Brest, it's +only a 'one hoss' place." + +Margaret hesitated. The prospect of going to Italy contained as much +pleasantness as any prospect could for her. + +"Are you sure that I should not be in the way?" she asked, gently. "You +are all so kind, and make such sacrifices for me----" + +"Don't say another word, Miss Leslie," said Captain Daniel; for +"Leslie" was the name Mrs. Day had given to her. "Me and my crew will +be proud to have you with us!" + +Margaret went ashore at Brest for a few hours, and got some articles +of dress, and the Rose, staying no longer than was necessary to obtain +provisions, set sail for Leghorn. + +The weather was fine and the wind favorable, and in due course the Rose +reached the Italian port. + +Margaret's parting with Captain Daniel was characteristic of them both. +When she offered to pay for her passage, the captain refused, at first +politely, and then almost roughly and sternly. + +"Why, Miss Leslie, sakes alive!" he exclaimed, "I'd rather see the +Rose at the bottom of the sea than me or my men should take a shilling +piece from you; and all I say is, if you want to pleasure us, why, when +you're tired of Italy and I--talians, drop a line to Captain Daniel of +Falmouth, and the Rose shall come and fetch you away, and be proud to +do it." + +Margaret could scarcely speak, but she managed to get out a few words +of thanks, and the captain, almost crushing her hand--now very thin and +white--turned to go, but he stopped at the last moment to add a word. + +"And, Miss Leslie, don't be afeared of me and my men a-cackling. +There's not a man as can't keep his own counsel, and there's not a man +as wouldn't rather be strung up at the yard-arm than admit that he'd +ever set eyes on you! No, miss, so far as the Rose is concerned, your +whereabouts is as safe as if we didn't know." + +Then he went, and Margaret was, indeed, left alone in the world without +a friend! + +Captain Daniel had engaged a room for her at the hotel, but to +Margaret, whose wounded heart ached for quiet and solitude, the busy +seaport seemed noisy and intrusive, and the next day she started for +Florence. + +Fortunately, she had some money with her; not a large sum, but the +captain's hospitality had left it intact, and Mrs. Day had promised to +send on the notes which Margaret had left behind directly Margaret sent +her an address. + +For the present, for a few months at any rate, she was secure from +the dread attacks of that most malignant of foes--poverty. And she +had her art; and she was in Florence, the Florence of painters and +poets, the Flower City of the old world. The captain, who seemed as +well acquainted with inland places as he was with the sea-board, had +recommended her to a quiet little hotel overlooking the best view in +Florence; and there, in a little room near the sky, Margaret found the +solitude and quiet which she so much needed. + +One morning, the third after her arrival, she roused herself +sufficiently to go into the town and purchase some painting materials, +and carrying them to a quiet spot commanding a view of the Arno and the +wooded slopes above it, began to paint. + +At first her hand trembled and her eyes were dim, for at every stroke +of her brush the past came crowding back upon her, and she could almost +fancy that Blair was lying by her side, and that she could hear his +loving voice and bright laugh; but after a time she gained strength, +and was gradually losing herself in her work--the work which alone +could bring her "surcease from sorrow," when she heard voices near her, +and looking up saw a young girl coming quickly along the path. She +was a beautiful girl of about seventeen, with the frank open face of +sorrowless childhood, and the springy step of youth and health. The day +was hot, and she had taken off her hat which was swinging in her hand. +Margaret had seen her before the girl had noticed Margaret sitting +almost hidden behind a bush, and she came on, singing merrily and +swinging her straw hat to the tune. + +Suddenly she caught sight of Margaret, and she and the song stopped +abruptly. + +It was almost impossible for her to pass so close without saying +something in the way of greeting, and so she made a little bow, and +said rather shyly: + +"I'm afraid I startled you. I didn't know anybody was near, or I +shouldn't have made such a noise." + +"I only heard you singing," said Margaret. + +The words and the gentle tone, together with the beautiful face with +its sad expression, seemed to fascinate the girl, and she drew nearer, +saying timidly: + +"But I was making a tremendous noise! You are painting?" + +"Yes," answered Margaret, with a sigh, "I am trying to do so." + +"What a lovely spot you have chosen!" said the girl looking round. "May +I see what you have done? I am so fond of art myself, but"--and she +made a little grimace--"I am a shocking stick!" + +Then she colored furiously and laughed with pretty embarrassment. + +"That's slang, I know. I beg your pardon! But I learn it from Ferdy! +There--how stupid of me! Of course, you don't know who Ferdy is: he is +my brother." + +By this time she had looked at the canvas. + +"Why!" she exclaimed, "that is beautiful! You are an artist!" + +"A poor one," said Margaret, smiling in spite of herself at the girl's +enthusiasm. + +"Oh, no; you are a real artist!" she said. "I know the real from the +sham; because we have so many of the latter staying in Florence. Poor +Florence! They make daubs of her all the year round, and send them +about the world as true pictures, while they are only libels. But yours +will be a beautiful picture! How splendidly you have got those trees +there, and that bit of cloud. Oh!" and she sighed, "I would give ten +years of my life if I could ever paint like that!" + +"That would be rather a heavy price if your life should be as happy all +through as it is now," said Margaret, in her sweet, gentle fashion. + +The girl looked at her and pondered for a moment, then she flung +herself on the grass beside Margaret, and said: + +"Do you know, you reminded me of mamma just then. That is just how +she speaks when she wants to scold me for one of my extravagancies. +Of course I wouldn't give ten years--or one year--of my life for +anything; who would?" + +Margaret sighed. How gladly would she have given all the remainder of +her life to be able to wipe out the past! never to have seen Blair, or +to have known those few short weeks of happiness. + +"It all depends," said Margaret, gravely. "Some people's lives are not +so happy that they could not spare a few years from them." + +The girl glanced at Margaret's pale face and then at her black dress, +and remained silent for a moment or two; then she looked up and said, +timidly: + +"Do I interrupt you sitting here? I will go at once if I am a nuisance." + +"No, no," said Margaret, quickly, and with a wistful smile. "You do not +interrupt me; pray stay!" + +"I like to see you paint," said the girl, after a pause. "Somehow you +remind me so much of mamma, though, of course, you are so much younger! +I wish you knew mamma. Are you staying in Florence?" + +"Yes," said Margaret, "I am staying at the hotel there," and she +pointed with her brush. + +"Really! Then you must be----" exclaimed the girl, quickly, but +checking herself abruptly, and coloring with annoyance. + +"I must be--what?" said Margaret, smiling at her embarrassment. "What +were you going to say?" + +"I was going to make one of my foolish speeches; and I'd better say it +now I have gone so far, and get you to forgive me. I was going to say +that you must be the young lady who lives so quietly at the hotel that +they call her the 'Mysterious Lady.'" + +Margaret smiled gently. + +"Do they call me so?" she said; then she sighed, and went on with her +work. + +The girl sat and watched her for a moment, then she said: + +"I'd better go now, I have offended you," and she half rose. + +Margaret put out her white hand, and laid it on her arm with a gentle +pressure. + +"Do not," she said. "You have not offended me. And now, will you tell +me something about yourself?" + +She asked the question, not that she was at all curious, though the +girl interested her, but to put her more at her ease. + +"With all the heart in the world," was the instant reply. "Do you see +that villa there--that one with the turrets? That is ours; mamma and +Ferdinand, my brother, live there. It is called the Villa Capri; and, +do you know, there are some beautiful views from it. If I were sure +you wouldn't be offended, I would ask you to come and pay us a visit, +and see if you could not make a picture of the river running below the +woods. Oh, I would like that!" + +Something in the girl's voice attracted Margaret's attention. + +"Are you Italian?" she said. + +"Half and half," was the reply, with a laugh. "My father was Italian, +my mother is English. I call myself all English--please do not forget +that!" she added, with all an English girl's frankness. "My brother, we +say, represents the Italian side of the family. I should like you to +know him. He is out riding this morning----" + +Almost as she spoke a voice sang out clear and musical above the trees: + +"Florence! Florence!" + +The girl laughed and sprung to her feet, then she sunk down again as +quickly. + +"It is Ferdy!" she said. "Let him find me if he can!" and in a falsetto +which rang quaintly through the hills, she called, "Ferdy! Ferdy!" + +Margaret heard the dull beat of a horse's hoofs as the rider rode this +way and that, misled by the echo, then, as, tired of the sport, the +girl sprung to her feet and shouted with a full round tone, Margaret +saw a handsome young fellow ride pell-mell at them. + +"Oh, take care, take care, Ferdy!" shouted the girl; but the warning +came too late; the horse struck the leg of the easel with its fore +hoof, and over went the whole apparatus, paintbox, brushes, and the +rest, leaving Margaret sitting smiling amidst the ruins. + +The girl uttered a cry of dismay, and the young fellow, almost before +he had pulled the horse in, flung himself from the saddle and stood +bareheaded and penitent before Margaret. + +"Oh, Ferdy, Ferdy, how could you be so reckless?" exclaimed the girl. + +He put up his hand as if to silence her; then, as he went on his knees +to recover the scattered implements, he said: + +"Signorina, I am overwhelmed with shame! Believe me, I did not suspect +that any one was here beside this madcap sister of mine! Pardon me, I +pray you! Have I broken anything?--have I frightened you? I shall never +forgive myself! Is that right?" and he put the easel in its place with +the greatest and most anxious care. + +"Thank you, yes," said Margaret. "No harm has been done. You did not +see me, that bush hid me. Please do not mind; it does not in the least +signify!" + +"Oh, but----" he said, arranging the palette and paints with the nicest +carefulness--"it signifies so much that I shall not sleep in peace +unless you will forgive me!" + +It was an Italian speech, but it was spoken with an air of sincerity +that was singularly English, and the speaker's eyes were fixed so +earnestly and pleadingly upon Margaret's face, that her color rose, and +she bent down and got her brushes to hide it. The girl glided to her +side. + +"Poor Ferdy! But it was very stupid of him, and he might have hurt +you as well as the easel, and then I should never have forgiven him, +whatever you had done. But you will forgive him, will you not?" + +She seemed to set so much value on the expression of forgiveness, that +Margaret, with a soft laugh, said at once: + +"Certainly, I forgive him!" + +The young man's face cleared instantly, and with the slight foreign +accent which was more marked in him than his sister, he said: + +"I am deeply grateful! I do not deserve it. Florence, have you told the +lady your name? Will you tell her mine?" + +The girl at this direct invitation stepped forward, and with a little +graceful movement of the hand, said: + +"Madame, let me present to you my brother, Prince Ferdinand Rivani." + +"And I, the Princess Florence, my sister," said the prince; and the +prince bowed, and the young girl dropped a courtesy in courtly fashion. + +"And now we have been formally introduced," said the girl, with a merry +laugh. "We are friends, are we not, and you will come to see us? Ferdy, +the lady----" she hesitated and looked at Margaret, and Margaret, with +downcast eyes, said: + +"Miss Leslie." + +"Miss Leslie! What a pretty name! Why, it is more Italian than English, +I think. Miss Leslie is staying at the hotel." + +The prince drew himself up, and with the same fixed regard of +respectful, almost reverential, admiration, said: + +"I shall have the honor of waiting upon Miss Leslie to-morrow--if she +permits." + +A servant who had been holding the horse came up, and as the prince +mounted, the princess drew near and bent over Margaret. + +"Mind! We are to be friends, you and I! I shall come with Ferdinand +to-morrow!" then, laying her hand upon the horse's neck, she tripped +off beside her brother. + +Margaret sat and looked at the view with eyes that saw nothing. She +had come to Florence for solitude and seclusion, and already that +solitude was threatened. What should she do? The girl was so lovable +that Margaret's tender heart already felt drawn toward her. All the +more should she guard against the possibility of an intimacy between +her--nameless and under a cloud of shame--and these high-born Italians. + +With a sigh she began to put her easel together, thinking that she must +leave Florence in the morning, when she saw a newspaper lying on the +ground. + +It was folded up and had evidently fallen from the pocket of the prince. + +Half mechanically she opened it and found that it was an English +newspaper of some weeks back. Still mechanically she let her eyes +wander over the columns, when suddenly she saw amongst the provincial +news an account of her own death off the rocks at Appleford. + +Trembling and shuddering, for the lines brought back all the torture +of that day, she read the succinct narrative, and found that in very +truth the world had accepted her death as a fact beyond question. But a +strange coincidence awaited her, for turning to the births, marriages, +and deaths columns, she saw this announcement--"At Leyton Court, on the +25th instant, Martha Hale, aged 68, the faithful servant of the Earl of +Ferrers." + +In one and the same paper was the account of her own death, and that +of the only person whom she would have to acquaint with the fact that +she was living! The last link between Margaret Hale and Mary Leslie was +broken, and the past had slipped away as completely as if, indeed, the +tidal wave had washed her out to sea! + + + + +CHAPTER XXI. + + +It was autumn, but such an autumn as often puts summer to shame. The +skies were as blue, the air as soft, as those of July; but that the +leaves had changed their emerald hues for those of russet-brown and +gold, one might well be tempted to believe that the summer was still +with us, and the winter afar off. + +The sun poured its generous warmth over the Villa Capri, laving the +white stone front of the graceful house with its bright rays, and +tinting the statues on the terraces, which, in Italian fashion, rose +in three tiers from the smooth lawn to the _salon_ and dining-room +windows. On the highest of the three terraces, lying back in a hammock +chair of velvet tapestry, was an old lady with a face of aristocratic +beauty set in snow-white hair. At a little distance, pacing up and +down, were two young ladies, the younger of the two with her arm round +the waist of her companion, and her beautiful young face turned up with +that air of pure devotion and affection which only exists in the heart +of one woman for another. + +The old lady was the Princess Rivani, the mother of Florence and +Ferdinand; and the two girls were Margaret and Florence. It had come to +pass that Margaret was an honored inmate of the Villa Capri. + +The Princess Florence had fallen in love with Margaret's lovely face, +and its sad, gentle smile, and still more with her sweet voice, and had +taken a fancy that Margaret's presence in the villa was necessary to +her existence; and as princesses' whims are born but to be gratified, +Margaret was here. + +The mother, who made a rule never to deny her darling child any +innocent and harmless desire, welcomed Margaret with the gentle +sweetness of a patrician, combined with the frank candor of an old lady. + +"I am very glad to see you, Miss Leslie," she had said. "You have +won my daughter's heart, and your presence seems necessary to her +happiness. I trust you will not let her be a burden to you. Please +consider the villa your home while it seems good to you to remain with +us, and I hope that will be for a long period." + +That was all; but as the signora--as the elder princess was +called--always said what she meant, and never more than she meant, it +was a good deal. She had scanned Margaret's face when she had been +presented to her, and had listened to her voice, and was convinced that +Margaret was a lady, and a fit companion for the princess, and she had +said so in a sentence to her daughter. + +"I like your friend, Florence, and I can understand the charm she +exerts over you. It is a very lovely face, a----" + +"Is it not, mamma?" exclaimed Florence enthusiastically. + +"--But it is a very sad one. I am afraid Miss Leslie has had some great +trouble, one of those sorrows which set their mark upon the heart, as a +fell disease brands the face." + +"But you will not like her the less for that, mamma?" Florence had +said, and the signora had replied with a sigh: + +"No, rather the more, my dear," for the signora had suffered also in +her life. + +So the princess had her wish gratified, and Margaret came to the +villa, and the princess, instead of growing tired of her, as one would +be tempted to prophesy, seemed to grow more attached and devoted as the +days rolled into weeks, and the weeks threatened to glide into months. + +If it had not been for the experience of the grandeur of Leyton Court, +Margaret might have been rather overwhelmed by the splendor of Capri +Villa, for the Rivanis were great people, of the best blood in Italy, +and lived in a state befitting their rank. + +The villa was not so large as the Court--that Court which Blair had +often told her she would one day be mistress of--but it was exquisitely +situated, and the interior was replete with the refined splendor of a +palace. + +The suit of rooms allotted to Margaret were large and grand enough +for a duchess, but when she murmured something in deprecation of such +sumptuous apartments, the princess had opened her blue eyes wide and +smiled with surprise. + +"Oh, but I want you to be comfortable, dear," she said. "I want you to +feel at home--that is the English phrase, isn't it?" + +"Yes, but 'at home' all my rooms would have gone into the smallest you +have given me," Margaret had said, smiling. + +"Really! Well, at any rate you need large rooms, for are you not an +artist, and do you not want a studio? Ferdinand has given orders +that the large room with the big window is to be fitted up as a +painting-room for you; and he promised to choose some pictures and some +curios, and all those kind of things you artists love, to furnish it. +He has gone to Rome, you know." + +Margaret looked rather grave. A prince is a prince to us English +people, and it rather alarmed her that she should be the cause of so +much trouble to his highness. + +The princess laughed at her serious countenance. + +"Do not look so grave," she said. "It was Ferdy's own idea. He chose +the rooms, and said how nice the big one would do for a studio. You +can't think how thoughtful he is--when he chooses to think at all." + +"His highness is very good," said Margaret, "but I am ashamed to give +him so much trouble." + +The princess laughed again. + +"Ferdy loves trouble. His great grief is that he has nothing to do, for +you see there is nothing to employ him here. The steward looks after +the land, and the major domo does all the business in the villa, and +there is nothing for poor Ferdy to do when he is away from the court. I +want you to like my brother, Miss Leslie," she added. + +"I should be very ungrateful if I did not," said Margaret. + +All this had occurred on the first day of her arrival; since then the +studio had been furnished and she had been made to feel as if she were +part and parcel of the Rivani family. Just before Margaret's arrival, +the prince had been called away by his duties to the Italian Court, and +the three ladies were left alone, so that Margaret had as yet had no +opportunity of thanking him for his kindness, of which she was reminded +every time she entered the luxurious studio he had furnished for her. + +Margaret's lines had indeed fallen in pleasant places, and if the +possession of good and true friends and the comforts of a luxury +brought to the highest state of perfection, could have brought +happiness, she should have been happy. But the sadness which wrapped +her as in a veil through which she smiled, and sometimes laughed, never +left her, and she spent hours in her studio, with the brush lying +untouched, and her dark eyes fixed dreamily upon the hills which rose +before her windows. She could not prevent her thoughts from traveling +back towards the past, that past with which she had done forever, and +often in the gloaming of the late summer evenings she would see Blair's +face rise before her, and hear his voice as she had heard it during +those few happy weeks when she had believed him to be her lover and +husband. + +There was only one way of escape from these thoughts, this flitting +back of her heart which brought her so keen an anguish, and that was in +work. + +She had come to the villa on the understanding that she should give +lessons in painting to the princess, but Florence soon showed the +futility of such an arrangement. + +"Dear, you will never make me an artist," she said; "never, do what you +will! I can learn to paint a barn, or a village pump, so that I needn't +write 'this is a barn,' or 'this is a pump,' underneath them, but that +is all. Don't waste your valuable time upon an impracticable--isn't +that a splendid English word?--subject, but do your own work. I'll +bring you my dreadful daubs, and you shall tell me where I am wrong, +but you sha'n't work and drudge like an ordinary drawing-mistress. I +daren't let you, for the last words Ferdy said were, 'Don't abuse Miss +Leslie's good nature, and bore her! Remember that she is an artist, and +she's something to the world that you must not rob it of!' and Ferdy +said wisely." + +"I think he spoke too generously, and thought only of the stranger +within his gates," said Margaret. + +"But mamma thinks the same," said the princess. "She has set her heart +upon your painting a great picture while you are at the villa. You +know that mamma and Ferdy are devoted to art; I think that either of +them would rather be an artist--a true artist--than Ruler of Italy, and +if you want to do them an honor, why paint a grand picture, exhibit it +at the Salon, and date it from the Villa Capri." + +Life at the villa, Margaret found, was one of routine--pleasant, easy +routine--but still carefully measured out and planned. + +At eight the great bell in the campanile rang for rising; at nine the +household gathered in the hall for prayers; at half-past breakfast was +served. At one o'clock the luncheon bell rang, and at seven the major +domo, in his solemn suit of black, stood at the drawing-room door to +announce dinner. + +There was an army of servants, male and female, and the three ladies +were attended with as much state as if the king were present. + +Between breakfast and dinner Margaret worked. + +Art is a jealous mistress; she will not share her shrine with any other +god, though it be Cupid himself. If Margaret had remained the happy +wife of Lord Blair, it is a question whether any more pictures of +worth would have left her easel, but now, with her great sorrow ever +present with her, she felt that her work alone would bring her partial +forgetfulness. + +And she did work. At first she thought she would paint a view of +Florence from the hills, and she made a very fair sketch; but, +about a week after her arrival at the villa she was sitting before +a fresh canvas, and, her thoughts flying back to the past, she, all +unwittingly, took up the charcoal and began to draw the outline of the +Long Rock at Appleford. It was not until she had sketched in the whole +of the scene that she became conscious of what she was doing; and when +she had so become conscious, she took up her brush to wipe the marks +out. Then she hesitated. A desire to paint the scene took possession of +her, and she went on with it. + +She painted the rock, with the sea raging round it, and the sky +threatening it from above; and, as she painted, the whole scene came +back to her, just as a scene which a novelist has witnessed with his +own eyes comes back to him. + +And as the picture grew, it exerted a fascination for her which she +could not repel. + +On this she worked day after day, carefully locking up the unfinished +picture in the mahogany case which the prince had supplied with the +rest of the furniture of the studio. + +She felt that she could do nothing until it was finished. One day the +princess knocked at the door, and Margaret, before she opened it, +hurriedly inclosed the canvas in its mahogany case. + +"Why, you have shut your picture up," said the princess in a tone of +disappointment. + +"I will show it to you, if you wish," said Margaret, laying her hand +upon the key; but the princess stopped her. + +"No, no," she said. "Do not. I think I understand. It is your great +picture, is it not? And you do not want any one to see it until it is +finished." + +Margaret was silent for a moment, then, as the princess put her arm +round her, and laid her cheek against Margaret's, she said: + +"If I ever am so fortunate as to do anything approaching 'great,' this +will be it, and I do not want you to see it until it is finished, +princess." + +"I would not see it for worlds until you say that I may, dear," said +the girl, lovingly. + +Day by day Margaret worked at the picture; it took possession of her +body and soul. All the anguish of that awful night, when she battled +against life and prayed for death, was portrayed in that savage sea and +darkling sky. + +She finished the scene, and was looking at it one day, with the +dissatisfaction that the true artist always feels, when she thought of +the words of Turner: "No landscape, beautiful as it may be, is complete +without the human figure, God's masterpiece in nature." + +She pondered over this for awhile, then, taking up her brush, she +painted on the top of the rock the figure of a woman. It was that of a +young girl, half kneeling, half lying, the water lapping savagely at +her feet, her face upturned to the angry sky. + +Half unconsciously she painted that face as her own--a girl's face, +white and wan, marked with an agony beyond that of the fear of death. +Despair and utter hopelessness spoke eloquently in the dark eyes and +the attitude of the figure; and when she had finished it, she stood and +gazed at it, half frightened by its realism. + +She knew that if it was not a great picture, it was a picture at which +no one could look at and pass by unmoved. + +She locked the door of the cabinet which inclosed the canvas, and went +on the terrace and found the princess waiting for her. The girl put +her arm round Margaret's waist, and led her up and down, the signora +looking on at the pair from her chair smilingly. + +"And have you nearly finished your picture, dear?" asked Florence. + +"Yes," said Margaret, dreamily, "it is quite finished." + +"Oh, how splendid!" exclaimed Florence. "Ferdinand will be so pleased. +He is coming this evening, you know, dear." + +"I did not know," said Margaret, still absently. + +"Ah, no, I forgot. I did not tell you, because mamma cautioned me not +to say anything that might disturb you at your work. He is coming, and +rather a large party with him." + +Margaret, as the girl spoke, remembered noticing that some preparations +seemed to have been going on in the villa for some days past, as if for +many guests; she had thought little of it at the time, her mind being +absorbed in her work. + +"My brother often brings some of his friends back with him," said +Florence; "they like the quietude of Florence after the fuss and bustle +of the court. How glad I shall be to get him back, not that I have +missed him so much this time, for, you see, I have had you, dear." + +"I am afraid I have been a very poor companion," said Margaret. + +"You have been the dearest, the best, and the sweetest a girl was ever +lucky enough to find!" responded the princess, earnestly. + +They walked up and down the terrace for some time, talking about the +prince and his many virtues, as a sister who adores her brother will +talk to her closest bosom friend; then Margaret went to her own room. + +The thought of the coming influx of visitors disturbed her; like most +persons who have endured a great sorrow, she shrank from meeting new +faces, and she resolved to keep to her own rooms, as it was understood +she should do when she pleased, while these gay people remained. + +Toward evening the guests arrived, and Margaret, from behind the +curtains of her long window, saw several handsome carriages drive up +to the great entrance, and a group of ladies and gentlemen--most of +the latter in military or court uniforms; in their midst stood the +tall figure of the prince, towering above the rest, his handsome face +wearing the grave smile of welcome, as he ushered his friends into +the house, in which were the usual stir and excitement attending the +arrival of a large party. + +Margaret drew the lace curtains over her window, and took up a book. +Presently the dressing-bell rang, then the dinner-bell, and soon after +there came a knock at the door. In response to her "Come in," the +Princess Florence entered in her rich evening dress, and ran across +the room. + +"Why, dear, aren't you dressed?" she exclaimed. + +"I am not coming down to dinner to-night, Florence, if you will excuse +me," said Margaret, gently. + +Florence stopped short, and looked at her with keen disappointment in +her blue eyes. + +"Not coming down to dinner? Oh, Miss Leslie, I am so sorry! And Ferdy, +he will be so disappointed!" + +"The prince," said Margaret, smiling at the girl's earnestness. "I do +not suppose your brother will notice my absence, Florence." + +"Not notice!" exclaimed Florence. "Why, he asked after you almost +directly after he had got into the house; and he has inquired where you +were at least half a dozen times." + +"The prince is very kind," said Margaret, "but I will not come down +to-night, dear." + +"You do not like all these people coming?" said the princess; "and yet +you would like them, they are all so nice and--and friendly: it is a +sort of holiday for them, you know." + +"I am sure they are very nice, dear," said Margaret, "but I would +rather be alone." + +There was nothing more to be urged against such quiet decision, and the +princess kissed her and reluctantly went down to the _salon_. + +A maid who had been set apart to wait upon Margaret brought her her +dinner, and Margaret took up her book afterward, and tried to lose +herself in it. Now and again she took a candle and looked at her +picture, and every time she looked at it the present faded and the past +stood out before her. + +What was Blair doing now? Had the woman, his wife, returned to him? +Where was he, and was he happy? No, Margaret thought, there could be no +happiness for him unless he were utterly destitute of heart and could +forget the girl whose love for him had led her to ruin and dishonor! + +From these sad thoughts she was aroused by a knock at the door and the +voice of the princess calling softly: + +"May we come in, dear?" + +Margaret opened the door, and there stood the prince beside his sister. + +He was in evening dress, and upon his bosom glittered a cluster of +orders; he looked the patrician he was, but there was a deep humility +and reverence in the manner of his bow and the way in which he extended +his hand to her. + +"Will you forgive this intrusion, Miss Leslie?" he said in his +excellent English, which was made more musical rather than less by +the slight accent. "I have come to beg you to give us the honor and +pleasure of your company. Florence tells me that you are not ill, or I +should not have bothered you." + +Margaret made room for them to enter, standing with downcast eyes under +his gaze, which was full of admiration and respectful regard. + +"Pray come," he said with an eagerness only half concealed. "For all +our sakes, if not for your own, and I should add for your own, too; +for there are some people here whom I think you would like to meet." +He mentioned some names of which Margaret had heard as those of +great people in Rome. "And there are some artists, too, Miss Leslie; +surely you will not refuse them the pleasure and honor of making your +acquaintance. My mother, too, begs that, if you feel well enough, you +will come down. There is Count Vasali, the great musician; he will play +for us, I hope." + +"Oh, do come, if only for an hour, dear," said the princess, adding her +prayer. + +Margaret hesitated, and while she hesitated the prince went slowly up +to the easel upon which the picture stood, with the cabinet unlocked. + +He started, and drew a little nearer, then looked from Margaret to the +picture, and from the picture to Margaret again. + +"Is this----?" he said, in a low voice, then stopped. + +"Oh, it is the picture! May I look now he has seen it?" exclaimed the +princess; then she, too, drew near, and stood speechless. + +"I--I hope you like it," said Margaret, with the nervousness of an +artist whose work is being surveyed and criticised. + +"Like it!" exclaimed the prince, gravely. "It is----" He stopped again, +then turned to Margaret with almost solemn earnestness. "Miss Leslie, I +am not an artist; I do not presume to be a critic, but I am convinced +that this is a marvelous picture! It is, I think, a great work. I +cannot tell you how it moves me! But there are others in the house who +are more capable of judging and appreciating it. You will let me show +it to them?" + +Margaret flushed and then turned pale. She would have kept the picture +to herself, for the present, at any rate; but then she considered the +matter in the few seconds while he stood waiting. After all, she was an +artist; it was by her art that she must exist, and it was well that her +picture should be seen. + +"I will do as you wish, prince," she said. + +"No, not I, but you!" he said, gently, with a little thrill in his +voice that touched Margaret, and made the princess turn and look at him. + +"Take it, then," said Margaret. + +He took it from the easel, and locked it in the cabinet carefully. + +"And you will come down? You must!" urged Florence eagerly. "You +must hear what they say. I know what it will be: they will say what +Ferdinand said!" + +"Very well," said Margaret, with a little sigh. + +The princess clapped her hands. + +"Oh, I am so glad. I will come for you in half an hour. Will that do?" + +"Miss Leslie will understand that she will meet friends," said the +prince, laying a delicate stress on the word, "though she has not seen +them yet." + +And with this courtly, kindly word of encouragement, he carried off the +picture. + +Margaret changed her plain black dress for one of black lace, which, +simple as it was, and without ornament, lent to her graceful figure a +distinguished air which even Worth himself sometimes cannot bestow, and +before the half hour was up the princess came for her. + +"Dressed already, dear! Oh, and how well you look! May I kiss you? Ah! +after all, it is only the English who really know how to dress. Why, +yours is the prettiest costume in the house----" + +"It is the simplest, dear, I am sure," said Margaret. + +The princess led her to her mother, and the old lady made room for her +on the settee. + +"I am glad you have come, my dear Miss Leslie," she said in her slow, +gentle voice; "we should all have been so sorry if you had not." + +Margaret said nothing, but presently gained courage to look round. + +Some lady was at the piano playing, and there were a few persons +round her; but the rest of the party was gathered together round some +object at the end of the room, about which candles and lamps had been +arranged, and she knew it was her picture. + +Presently she saw the prince approaching, with an old gentleman at his +side, an old man with long silvery hair and pale face, from which the +dark eyes shone with a strange brilliance that was yet soft and dreamy. + +"Miss Leslie," said the prince, "let me introduce Signor Alfero to you." + +It was the great artist whose works Margaret had stood before with +admiration and awe. + +She inclined her head without a word. The great artist's eyes rested +on her keenly for a moment, then he said: + +"To have seen your picture, Miss Leslie, is to desire a knowledge of +you. You are very young!" + +It was a strange speech, and it brought the color to Margaret's face. + +"I had expected to see an older person--one whose experience would +account for her success; but it is always so, it is to youth all things +are possible. My dear, you have painted a wonderful picture! It is a +work of genius. I cannot tell you how it has moved me. How came you to +paint it?" + +Margaret looked up questioningly and fearfully. + +"I mean," said the great man with a kindly smile, "where did you get +your subject? Waves and rocks are old as the hills, but your waves and +rocks are new because they are so terribly real. And the figure too! +Why, yes--it is your own! Miss Leslie, your picture is a great one. I +tell you this without flattery, and as one of our trade. It is great, +and it will bring you fame." + +Fame! Alas, it might bring her fame, but of what value would fame be to +her now? + +Perhaps the absence of all joy in her face as she received the tidings, +touched the great man, for he said: + +"But we do not care for that, do we? not so greatly, that is. It is the +satisfaction in our work, is it not? Will you come with me and let me +ask you a few questions about one or two things in your picture?" + +He held out his arm, and Margaret, still speechless, let him lead her +to the easel upon which the picture stood. + +The group, clustering round it, made way for the pair, looking at +Margaret, and whispering together in the well-bred way which conceals +the act. + +The great artist asked his questions--they related to various lights +and shades, and wave formations--and Margaret answered modestly, in her +low, sweet voice; then the prince, who stood on the other side of her, +found himself besieged by applications for introductions, and quietly +he brought one after another of the group to Margaret, and made them +known to her. + +It was evident that she was the celebrity of the evening. The fame +which the great artist had prophesied had come already, for there was +not one there who was not willing to blow a blast upon the trumpet +which announces the appearance of a great one to the waiting and +welcoming world. + +It was not only the fact that she had painted a picture which Alfero +had pronounced "great," but her beauty, with its touching air of +subdued sadness, took possession of them. + +They gathered around her, these noblemen and famous ladies, and made +much of her, until the prince, fearing that she would be tired and +overdone, offered her his arm, and led her, on the excuse of showing +her the flowers, toward the conservatory. + +Margaret was tired and excited, though there was no trace of it in the +sweet, pale face, and she was glad of a few minutes' rest. + +The prince led her to a seat placed amidst a cluster of ferns and +exotics, and, taking up a fan, gently fanned her. + +"I spoke truly, you see, Miss Leslie," he said. "I cannot tell you with +what joy and pride--yes, pride!--Signor Alfero's words filled me. But +we will not speak of them again to-night; though I trust they have made +you as happy as they have made me." + +There was something in his voice which half frightened Margaret, and, +as she looked up to reply, she found his eyes fixed upon her with a +light in them which caused hers to droop, though why she knew not. + +"The signor--every one--has been too good to me," she said. + +"No," he said, with a suppressed earnestness. "That no one who knows +you could be." + +He was silent a moment, then he looked round. + +"Ah, how glad I am to be at home!" but as he spoke his eyes returned to +her face. + +"And they are all glad to have you, prince," said Margaret. + +"All?" he said. "May I include you, Miss Leslie?" + +A faint flush rose to Margaret's face, then it grew pale again. + +"I?" she said. "Oh, yes, I am glad!" + +"You make me very glad to hear you say that," he said in a low voice, +bending down so that he almost whispered the words in her ears. "I +have thought of you very often while I have been away, Miss Leslie, +wondering, and hoping that you might be happy here at the villa, and +longing to get back that I might see you again." + +Margaret's heart beat fast. + +She told herself that it was only the language of courtly kindness; +warmer than an Englishman would use, but meaning no more than usual. + +"What beautiful flowers!" she said, looking at a bunch of camellias +before her. + +He glanced at her dress, unadorned by a single article of jewelry, +then crossing the conservatory, picked a snow-white blossom and brought +it to her. + +"Will you accept this?" he said. + +"Oh, thank you!" said Margaret. "How lovely it is," and she held it in +her hand. + +"Will you wear it?" he asked, and his voice grew low and almost +tremulous. + +Margaret started and her face went white. + +They were almost the very words Blair had spoken in the little garden +at Leyton Court that never-to-be-forgotten night, and they brought back +the past and her own position with a lurid distinctness. + +"No, no!" she breathed, scarcely knowing what she said, and she let the +flower drop into her lap. + +The prince's face grew grave and pained. + +"Have--have I offended you?--have I been too presumptuous?" he asked, +humbly. + +"No, no!" she said, again. Then she looked up. "Presumptuous, your +highness? You! to me! The presumption would be mine if I--if I were to +accept----" she paused. + +"Do I understand you?" he said, drawing nearer, his handsome, patrician +face flushing, his eyes seeking hers with an eager intentness. "Miss +Leslie, my poor flower would be honored by the touch of your hand; will +you honor me also by wearing it? Miss Leslie----" he paused a moment, +then went on--"I do not think you understand. Shall I tell you now, or +are you too tired and wearied? I think you must know what I would say. +Such love as mine will break through all guards, try as we will to hide +it, and proclaim itself to the beloved one----" + +Margaret started to her feet with a wild horror in her eyes. + +"Do not--speak another word!" she breathed. "I--I cannot listen! +I--take me back, please, your highness!" + +The prince's face paled, and his lips shut tightly; but with the +courtly grace which could not forsake him, even at such a moment, he +took her hand and drew it through his arm. + +"Your lightest word is law to me," he murmured. "I will say no +more--to-night; but I must speak sooner or later. But no more to-night! +Not one word, be assured. You may trust me, if you will not do more!" + +Margaret was speechless, her heart throbbing with a dreadful amazement +and horror. That he--the great prince--should have spoken to her--to +her upon whose life rested so dark a shame, almost maddened her. + +In silence he led her into the _salon_. As he did so, a certain noble +lady, an old schoolfellow of his mother, who was sitting beside her, +looked up at them, then turned to the signora. + +"This is a very beautiful girl, signora!" + +The old lady glanced at Margaret and smiled placidly. + +"Miss Leslie?--yes." + +"Very," said the countess. "There is something sad and _spirituelle_ +about her which renders her loveliness something higher than the +ordinary beauty of which one sees so much nowadays." + +"Yes," said the signora. "I fear she has passed through some great +sorrow. There is a look in her eyes when she is silent and thinking, +which makes one tempted to get up and kiss her." + +"A dangerous charm, that," remarked the countess dryly. + +"A charm; yes, that is the word," assented the signora, smiling. "She +has charmed the heart out of Florence, and has crept into mine, poor +girl." + +"Poor girl!" echoed the countess, dryly; then, as it seemed abruptly +and inconsequentially, she said, "How handsome Ferdinand has grown!" + +The signora let her eyes linger upon him with all a mother's pride and +tenderness. + +"Yes; has he not? He is like his father." + +"And his mother," said the countess. "He is a great favorite at court, +my dear. There is a career before him if there should happen to be a +war, as I suppose there will be." + +"I could do without a career for him if the price is to be a war," said +the signora, sighing. + +"He seems very attentive to Miss Leslie," remarked the countess, +looking at the two young people as they crossed the room. + +The prince had found a seat for Margaret, but still remained by her +side, bending over her with that rapt attention which distinguished him. + +"Oh yes," assented the signora, placidly. "He thinks a great deal of +her. I imagine that he is very pleased at the success of her picture. +Ferdinand is devoted to art; and says that the villa is renowned as the +birthplace of so great a picture as Miss Leslie has painted." + +"Hem!" said the countess; then, with a frown, she said, "Don't you +think that the charm you speak of may exert itself over Ferdinand?" + +"Over Ferdinand?" the signora glanced across at them with a serene +smile. + +"Yes, over Ferdinand," repeated the old countess, almost impatiently, +"or do you think that the male heart is less susceptible than the +female. Do you suppose that Ferdinand is blind to Miss Leslie's +loveliness, and that it is only revealed to you and Florence?" + +"What do you mean?" asked the signora. + +"What do I mean? Why, my dear Lucille, aren't you afraid that, to speak +plainly, Ferdinand may--fall in love with Miss Leslie?" + +The old princess looked at her for a moment with a mild surprise, then +she drew her slight figure up to its full height and smiled with placid +hauteur. + +"Ferdinand will not fall in love with Miss Leslie," she said, with an +air of calm conviction. + +"Oh," said the countess, dryly. "Does he wear an amulet warranted to +protect him from such eyes as hers, such beauty as hers?" + +"Yes," said the mother. "Ferdinand wears such an amulet. It is the +consciousness of his rank and all its duties and responsibilities. Miss +Leslie is a most charming girl, and Florence and I are attached to her; +but Ferdinand----" she paused and smiled. "I know Ferdinand very well, +I think, my dear, so well, that if you were to hint that he was likely +to fall in love with one of the maid-servants I should be as little +alarmed." + +The countess looked at her with a strange smile, then glanced at the +prince and Margaret. + +"My dear Lucille," she said, "I beg your pardon. Of course, you are +quite right, and there is no danger. There has never been an instance +of one of our rank marrying beneath him, has there?" and she laughed +ironically. + +The signora smiled and shook her head. + +"My dear," she said, "there isn't a prouder man in Italy than +Ferdinand. I am not at all uneasy." + + + + +CHAPTER XXII. + + +I do not think I have at any time held up Lord Blair Leyton as an +example to youth, and I am less likely than ever to do so now, now +that he has reached an epoch in his life when, like a vessel without a +rudder, he drifts to and fro on life's troubled sea, heedless of his +course, and perilously near the rocks of utter ruin and destruction. +But at any rate, I can claim one quality for our hero--he was thorough. + +A wilder man than Blair, before he fell in love with Margaret, it would +be difficult to imagine; it would be harder to find a better one, or +one with better intentions, than he was during his short married life; +and, alas, no wilder and more reckless being existed than poor Blair, +after Margaret's supposed death. + +He was quiet enough while he was ill, for he was too weak to do +anything but sit still all day and brood. + +He would sit for hours staring moodily at the dim line where sea and +sky meet, without uttering a word--all his thoughts fixed upon his +great loss, the sweet, lovable, lovely girl whom he had called wife for +a few short weeks. + +He never mentioned Margaret's name, and Austin Ambrose was too wise +to disobey his injunction as regards silence. He made no further +inquiries, and even if he had been desirous of doing so, there was no +one of whom to make inquiries, for the Days had left Appleford, and no +one knew anything more of Margaret than the common record, that she had +been seen on the rock, and then--not seen! + +Emaciated and haggard, Lord Blair sat day after day waiting for the +renewal of strength, his sole employment that bitterest of all bitter +amusements--recalling the past! + +Austin Ambrose was his only companion, Austin leaving him only for +short intervals, which he spent in town. + +Vigilant as a lynx, untiring as a sleuthhound, Austin Ambrose kept +continual watch and guard. By a series of accidents, Fate had assisted +his schemes, and he felt himself the winner almost already. A few turns +more of the wheel, and he would have Violet Graham at his feet. + +Revenge is a powerful motor, so is the love of money; but when they +act together, then the man who harbors them is propelled like a steam +engine--swiftly yet carefully, and, therefore, barring accidents, +surely. + +Gradually the long, absent strength came back to Blair. As the doctor +had said, he had a wonderful constitution, and it did more for him than +the great Sir Astley or the great "Sir" anybody else could have done, +and at last one morning he remarked, in the curt manner which had now +become habitual to him: + +"I shall go up to town, Austin." + +"To town?"' said Austin Ambrose, raising his eyebrows. "Do you think +you are fit, my dear Blair?" + +"Yes," replied Blair slowly. "I am sick of sitting here day after +day, and lying here night after night. I think I could"--he paused, +and smothered a sigh--"sleep in London. This place is so infernally +quiet----" + +"Very well. Only don't run any risks," said Austin Ambrose. + +Blair looked at him with a hard smile. + +"If I thought I should run any risk, as you call it, I should go all +the sooner. Will you wire and tell them at the Albany that I am coming?" + +"I'll do better than that," said Austin Ambrose, who did not by any +means desire that their whereabouts should be known. "I'll run up and +see that things are straight and comfortable for you, old man." + +Blair looked at him moodily. + +"I don't know why you take so much trouble for me, Austin," he said. +"I've no claim upon you; you are not my brother----" + +"Wish I were, especially your elder brother!" said Austin Ambrose, +smiling, "then I should have all the Leyton property, and be the Earl +of Ferrers, shouldn't I? Well, I don't know quite why I fuss over you; +I've done it so long that I can't get out of it, I suppose. It is +wonderful, the force of bad habit. So you have made up your mind to +go to London? Well, heaps of fellows will be very glad. Violet Graham +amongst them." + +Blair frowned. + +"Why should Violet Graham be glad?" he said, coldly. "Why should +anybody?" + +"Oh, I don't know." Austin replied, carelessly; "but I suppose they +will. You always were popular, you know, my dear fellow." + +So Mr. Austin Ambrose, impelled by his extreme good-nature and +friendship for Lord Blair, ran up to town first, and saw that the +chambers were put straight, and the valet, who had been put on board +wages, and kept in complete ignorance of his master's movements, warned +of Lord Blair's return. + +And in the evening, after he had done all this, he went to Park Lane. + +Violet Graham was still in London, although like the last Rose of +Summer, "all her companions" had gone. She had pressing invitations to +county houses in England, Scotland, and Ireland--shooting and fishing +parties clamored for the presence of the popular heiress; but in vain. +She declared that she hated eating luncheon in wet turnip fields, and +that fishing parties were a bore, and intended remaining in London, +at any rate, for the present. The truth was that she could not tear +herself away while there remained a chance of Blair's return. + +Austin Ambrose found her sitting before the fire in the drawing-room, +crouching almost, her hands clasped in her lap, her eyes fixed on the +glowing coals as if she were seeking the future in the red light; and +she started and sprung up as he entered with an exclamation of surprise: + +"Austin!" then she looked beyond him, as if she hoped and expected to +see some one else with him, and not seeing him, her face fell. + +"Well, Violet," he said, with his slow, calm smile. + +"Where have you been?" she demanded, moving her hand toward a chair, "I +thought you were dead!" + +"I am alive," he answered, "and I have been wandering up and down like +the gentleman mentioned in history. You are early with your fire, +aren't you? It is quite warm out." + +"It is quite cold within," she replied; "at least, I am cold, I always +feel cold now. Well?" she added, with abrupt interrogation. + +He smiled up at her. + +"You want my news?" he said, shortly. + +"Yes! Where is he? Where is Blair?" she demanded, and as she spoke his +name a red spot burnt in either cheek, and her eyes grew hungry and +impatient. "Why does he not come home or write? One would think you +were both dead!" + +"Blair is alive," he said, holding his hands to the fire, though he +had said it was warm, and watching her with a sidelong look under the +lowered lids. "He isn't dead, but he has been very nearly." + +She uttered a faint cry, and put her hand to her heart. + +"I knew it!" she murmured huskily, "I _felt_ that something was wrong +with him. Don't laugh at me," she went on fiercely, for the smile had +crept into his face again, "I tell you I _felt_ it. It was as if some +one had passed over my grave. Blair nearly dead! And you never told me! +What brutes men can be!" and the angry tears crowded into her eyes. + +"Don't blame me," he said. "It was Blair's fault. I should have written +and asked you to help me nurse him, but he wouldn't permit me to tell +any one, even the earl." + +"But why not?" she demanded. + +He shrugged his shoulders. + +"As well ask the wind why it blows north instead of south, or east, or +west. Blair is whimsical; besides, he hates any fuss, and--forgive me, +Violet--but he may have known that you would have made a fuss." + +"I would have gone to him to the other end of the world, and have given +my life to save his, if you call that making a fuss!" she retorted +angrily. + +"Exactly," he said; "and that is just what Blair didn't want." + +"Where was he, and what was it?" she asked, dashing the tears from her +eyes with a gesture that was almost savage. + +"He got a fever at Paris," said Mr. Austin Ambrose promptly. "It was a +narrow squeak for him; but we pulled him through." + +Violet Graham's face went white, and her lips shut tightly. + +"'_We_?' Then--then _she_ was with him? She is with him now?" and her +hands clenched so that the nails ran into the soft, pinky palms. + +"She _was_," he answered gravely; "but she is not now." + +"Not now!" she echoed, with a quick glance at the calm, set face. +"Where is she, then? Has he sent her away? Tell me, quick!" + +"He has not sent her away, but she has gone. Violet, prepare yourself +for a shock. The poor girl is dead!" + +She sprung to her feet, and stood staring at him for a moment, then +sank into her chair, a light of relief and joy, almost demoniacal in +its intensity, spreading over her face. + +"Dead! Dead, Austin?" hoarsely; "you are not--not playing with me?" + +"Rather too serious a subject for joking, isn't it?" he responded, +coolly. "No, I am telling you the plain truth; the girl is dead!" + +"When? How?" she demanded. + +He was silent a second or two, then he said: + +"Abroad. I don't think we need go into particulars, Violet." + +She said nothing while one could count twenty, then she looked round at +him with a glance half fearful. + +"Did you--had you any hand----" She could not finish the sentence. + +He looked her full in the face, then let his eyes drop. + +"Better not ask for any of the details, my dear Violet! Take the thing +in its bare simplicity. If I had, as you delicately suggested, any hand +in bringing about this consummation you so devoutly desired, what would +you say? Are you going to overwhelm me with reproaches and cover me +with remorse?" + +The two spots burnt redly on her cheeks, then, as she turned and faced +him, her face went very white. + +"No. Do you think I have forgotten what you said? You asked me if I was +prepared to separate them at any cost, and I answered 'at any cost.' I +have not forgotten. I do not retract my words. I said what I meant---" + +"Even if it meant--murder?" he remarked, coolly. + +She shuddered, and glanced toward the door fearfully, then she met his +gaze defiantly. + +"Yes, even if it meant murder!" + +He smiled at her thoughtfully. + +"You are a wonderful woman, Violet," he said, reflectively. "One would +not expect to find a Lady Macbeth in a delicately made little lady like +yourself! You don't look the character. But don't be uneasy; there are +other ways of disposing of a person who is inconveniently in the way, +than the dagger and poison-cup. The way is----" + +She put out her hand. + +"Don't tell me." + +He laughed sardonically. + +"I told you that you would not want the details," he said, "and you are +wise to let the fact suffice. Margaret Hale is dead, and Blair is free +once more." + +"Free!" she murmured. "Free!" and she drew a long sigh. "And where is +he?" + +"On his way to London," he replied. "He will be here to-morrow." + +"To-morrow?" and her face flushed. + +"Yes," he said, promptly. "But I do not know that he will find his way +to Park Lane quite so quickly." + +"No?" scornfully. + +"No, not just at first. You see, Blair has been through a rather heavy +mill, and he is--well, to put it shortly--rather crushed." + +"I understand." + +"Yes," slowly, "I imagine that he will fight shy of all his +acquaintances for a time, women especially. Why, he can scarcely bring +himself to say half-a-dozen civil words to me, his best friend." + +"'His best friend!'" she murmured. + +"His best friend," he repeated, with emphasis. "So that one must not +expect too much from him just yet. In a week or two he will come round, +and you will find him only too glad to drop in for afternoon tea." + +She looked at him quickly, for there seemed a hidden meaning in his +words, commonplace as they were. + +He nodded. + +"Yes, just that. He will drop in some afternoon and you will, of +course, greet him as if you had parted from him only the night before. +Make a fuss over him, and he will be off like a frightened hare, and +you will lose him. But just receive him with the politeness due to +an ordinary acquaintance, and he will not be alarmed. He will get +accustomed to dropping in and--and--" he smiled significantly--"any +further hint would be superfluous." + +She sat silently regarding the fire, with this new hope, the news of +Margaret's death, shining softly in her eyes, and he sat watching her. + +"What fools women are!" she murmured, at last. + +"I would rather you said that than I," and he laughed softly. + +"We are like children," she went on. "The one thing denied to us, that +is the thing we must have and cry our eyes out for! I wish--I wish +that I were dead or had no heart!" + +"The two things are synonymous," he said. "Without a heart one, indeed, +might as well be dead." + +She looked at him with momentary interest and curiosity. + +"They say that you have no heart, Austin." + +"But _you_ know that I have," he responded at once. "But we won't +talk about my heart, it is a matter of such little consequence, isn't +it? And now I think I will go. I have come like the messenger with +good tidings, and my presence is now superfluous. You will see Blair +shortly. I need scarcely hint that not a word of the past should escape +your lips." + +He spoke as carelessly and coolly as usual, but his eyes watched hers +closely as he waited for her answer. + +"No, no," she said; "I will say nothing about--her," and she shuddered. + +"Certainly not. Take care you do not. It is grewsome work raising +specters, and I warn you that to speak of Margaret Hale to Blair would +be to raise a specter which will send him from your side at once." + +She sighed and bit her lips. + +"He--he cared for her so much?" she murmured huskily. + +Austin Ambrose shrugged his shoulders. + +"Who can tell? I suppose so. Certainly, he raved about her enough. But +all that is past, you know; the girl is dead, and Time--which, so they +say, will wipe out anything save an I O U--will erase her from his +memory!" + +He got his hat, and stood looking down at her slight figure as she sat +leaning forward over the fire. + +Then she glanced up and caught his eyes. + +With a little start, she rose and held out her hand. + +"I--I do not know what to say to you, Austin," she said, falteringly. +"To speak of gratitude seems a mere formal way of expressing what I +feel. You have done me a great service----" She stopped and hesitated, +embarrassed by his steadfast gaze. "If there is anything I can do----" + +He shook his head. + +"No," he said, with a smile, "there is nothing you can do for me, +thanks, except win the day and be happy." + +"And--and yet you spoke of--hinted at--some possible reward?" she said, +wondering whether she should offer him money. + +"Are you dying to make me a present of, say, a thousand pounds?" he +said, laughing softly. "I am sorry to balk your generous intentions, +but I do not want money--at present. I am not rich, excepting in the +sense that the man whose requirements are small is never poor. No, I do +not want your money, Violet. Some day I may--I only say I may--come to +you and remind you of my share in this little business. Perhaps I may +never do so; but at any rate, your bare 'I thank you' will reward me +sufficiently now." + +"Then, I thank you!" she said. + +He pressed her hand, looked into her eyes with the same half-comical +smile, and then left her. + + + + +CHAPTER XXIII. + + +Blair came back to town, thin, and pale, and haggard, with only one +desire in his heart: to forget the past and kill the present! He had +been wild and reckless as a youth, and it had only been his love for +Margaret that had checked him in his road to ruin. + +If she had still been by his side, he would have swung round and +become one of the steadiest of men--she would have been his saving and +guardian angel. But he had lost her, and with her all that had made his +life worth living. + +So he came back to the old life in London, hating it with a weariness +bitter as death, and yet not knowing of any other way in which to kill +time and escape from the past. + +As Austin Ambrose had said, his friends were glad to see him, but they +were aghast at the change which a few weeks had wrought in the old +light-hearted Blair; and the pace he was going alarmed even the most +reckless of them. + +They dared not ask him any questions, for there was something about +him, a touch of savageness and smothered bitterness in his manner which +warned them that any display of curiosity would be resented. + +"I can't make Blair out," said Lord Aldmere to Colonel Floyd. It was at +a well-known club which does not open its doors until well-regulated +people have gone to bed. "What he has been doing, Heaven only knows; +but I never saw a man so changed. Why it was only this summer that +he was in the best of form bright as a--a star, don't you know, and +now--look at him!" he concluded, glancing across the room at Blair, as +he sat moodily over the fire, a big cigar in his mouth, his haggard +face drooping on his breast, his sad eyes fixed gloomily on the ground. +"Never saw such a change in a man in all my life." + +"He has been ill, you know," said the colonel, eying the drooping, +listless figure with a troubled regard; "had a fever and all that kind +of thing." + +"Yes--I know," said the marquis, stammeringly; "but other fellows have +had fevers, and they don't cut up like that. I had the fever--no, I +think it was measles, or mumps, or something, but I pulled round all +right, and was as jolly as a sandboy after all. It isn't the fever +that's done it, Floyd; there's something else, depend upon it. Where +has he been all this time? nobody knows exactly." + +"You'd better ask him," said the colonel, with grim irony. + +"Ask him!" stuttered the marquis; "I dare say! I expect I should get my +head snapped off! Some fellow said something about Paris yesterday, and +turning to Blair, said: 'But you were there then, weren't you, Blair?' +and Blair just turned and glared at him as if he was going to eat him! +No, by George, you bet I don't ask him anything!" + +"Perhaps you'd better not," assented the colonel. "Discretion is the +better part of valor. But he isn't always like this, is he?" he asked, +in an undertone. + +"No, not always," replied Aldmere. "He'll wake up presently and pull +himself together, and then he'll go into the dining-room and order some +dinner, and as like as not when it comes he'll march out and leave it! +I've seen him do it two or three times, by Jove! and then later on +he'll take a big drink, and when he's livened up a bit, he'll go down +to the Green Table." + +The colonel whistled. The Green Table was the fashionable gaming club, +and the proprietor might appropriately have inscribed over its handsome +stone doorway, "Abandon hope, all ye who enter here!" for many a man +had found cause to rue the hour in which he passed its portals. + +There was no more dangerous place in all London than the Green Table, +and Colonel Floyd's whistle was not by any means superfluous. + +"And does he win?" he asked. + +"Sometimes, but not often," replied the marquis. "Loses four nights out +of five. Seems to have lost his game, too. You know how good he was at +most things? First rate all round man, you know. But now he seems to +have lost his head, and plays like a man in a dream. I saw him miss two +points at baccarat last night. Poor old Blair!" + +"Poor old Blair!" echoed the colonel. "Can't something be done?" + +The young marquis shook his head sadly. + +"Who could do anything? In the old times, Blair was as good-natured a +fellow as you'd meet in a day's walk; but, by George! as I said, you +dare not speak to him now. If one of us were to drop a word signifying +that he was going to the devil--well, by jingo! he'd send us there +ourselves, and pretty sharp." + +"I suppose it was some love affair?" said the colonel, thoughtfully. + +"Don't know. Perhaps so. There is one fellow who could tell us, and +that's that fellow Austin Ambrose." + +The colonel made a grimace. + +"I hate that fellow more than ever," he said. "He's back, too, by +the way. Shouldn't wonder if he has been with Blair all the time, +and isn't, in some way or other, mixed up with the business. I never +thought that fellow up to much." + +"Don't see what harm he could be up to," said the young marquis. "And +so the fair Violet won't go down to Scotland this autumn, eh, Floyd?" + +"No," said the colonel, ruefully; "and so I can't, either, confound it! +Not that there seems much use in hanging about, for one can't get a +civil word from her lately." + +"They say," whispered the marquis, "that she's still sweet on Blair." + +The colonel glanced over at him and shrugged his shoulders. + +"Then she's wasting that same sweetness on desert air, Aldy, for to my +certain knowledge he hasn't been near Park Lane since he came back. +Hallo, talk of the devil--here is that fellow!" + +For Austin Ambrose entered the room in his peculiar noiseless fashion, +and, bestowing a nod upon the colonel and the marquis, crossed the room +to Blair's chair. + +Blair looked up as Austin Ambrose greeted him, looked up with that +listless, spiritless glance which speaks so eloquently of the wrecked +hopes and consequent despair. + +"Well Blair," said Austin Ambrose, with his slow smile. "Thought I +should find you here! You've dined, of course?" + +Blair thought a moment as if he were trying to recollect. + +"No, I haven't," he said. + +"No?" cheerfully. "Come and have some grilled bones with me." + +"I hate grilled bones," was the listless response. + +Austin Ambrose laughed and dropped into a chair. + +"So do I, if it comes to that, but man must eat to live; but never mind +the bones. Blair," and he leaned forward, "you have seen the evening +paper?" + +"No," said Blair, lighting his cigar, which he had allowed to die out. + +"No! Then you don't know that Springtime has lost?" + +"Has he?" was the indifferent response. "Did I back him?" and he passed +his thin wasted hand over his forehead. + +Austin Ambrose raised his eyebrows. + +"Did you back him? My dear Blair, what a question! Didn't you tell me +this morning to get what odds I could?" + +"Yes, I remember," said Blair, leaning back and gazing into the fire. +"That's the horse you thought so well of, isn't it?" + +Austin Ambrose colored faintly. + +"Well, I don't know. I would not put it exactly that way. But I did +think he had a chance, and I backed him myself for as much as I could +afford," he said in a much lower tone than Blair had used, for he did +not want the marquis and the colonel to hear them. + +"And he lost?" said Blair, indifferently. "Well, somebody must lose," +and he shrank back in his chair as if he were both weary and cold. + +"I suppose the money is all right?--I mean that you have a balance at +the bank?" said Austin Ambrose. + +Blair nodded languidly. + +"I suppose so. Oh, yes, I think so," he said, carelessly. "If not, +Tyler & Driver will see to it." + +Then he relapsed into his old attitude, and into the silence which had +lately become habitual to him. Presently he rose and absently took two +or three turns up and down the room. He was the shadow of his former +self in bulk, but the stalwart frame was there still, and the marquis +and Floyd watched him sadly. + +"Going home, Blair?" said the colonel, in that tone of forced +cheerfulness which we use toward a friend that has been stricken down +by illness or a great sorrow. + +"Home?" he said, with a little start and suppressed shudder. "Good +heavens, no! What should I do with the rest of the night?" + +"It's morning now," said the marquis with a yawn. "Why not go to bed, +old man?" + +"No, thank you," said Blair with a grim smile. "Why should I go to bed?" + +"Why, to sleep," replied the young lord. + +"Yes, but I don't sleep," came the instant retort. "No, I think I'll go +down to the Green Table." + +"Oh, hang the Green Table!" exclaimed the colonel. "What's the use of +going to that beastly place?" + +"As for that, what's the use of going to any beastly place?" said +Blair, and he rang the bell and asked for his overcoat. + +"We'd better go with him, I suppose?" whispered the marquis; and when +the footman had helped Blair on with his coat, they got theirs and +followed him; Austin Ambrose walking by his side, his face calm and +serene with its cool, set smile. + +The tables at the gaming club seemed pretty well crowded, but Blair +found a chair presently and began to play. The marquis and Colonel +Floyd stood behind him with Austin Ambrose. + +Neither of the men had spoken a word to him, beyond returning his +greeting as he entered the club, but now impelled by his anxiety on +Blair's account, the marquis addressed him. + +"I say, Ambrose, you know," he interposed; "poor old Blair is going to +the--de--devil, don't you know!" + +Austin Ambrose shook his head. + +"He was always very wild," he said in an undertone, without removing +his eyes from Blair's cards. + +"Wild! Yes; but not like this. What's come to him?--what's happened to +him? He's like a man half off his head, poor old chap. Look how he's +playing now! Why, a child could beat him. And he plays so confounded +high. I've heard there's a lot of money in the family; but, hang it +all, a gold mine couldn't stand it!" + +Austin Ambrose heaved a deep sigh. + +"I quite understand your feelings, my dear marquis; but what am I to +do? If you think my poor friend is a man to be coaxed or managed, well, +try it." + +The marquis swore under his breath. + +"I will!" he said, and laying his hand on Blair's shoulder, he said, in +an undertone: "Old fellow, the luck is dead against you to-night; throw +the cards up and come away." + +Blair turned as a man might turn from a dream, and looked up at him. + +"Oh, is it you, Aldy? I beg your pardon. Want to go? All right, just +wait till I have had another hand. The luck is against me, as you +say, but what does it matter?" and he smiled. "The next best thing to +winning is losing, you know." + +"You see!" said Austin Ambrose in a low voice. "What is to be done? I +have tried everything, but it is of no use," then he bent over Blair, +and said: + +"Are you coming my way, Blair? I am going now." + +"No, I think not," was the listless reply. "Going? Good-night." + +The marquis and Colonel Floyd walked out of the club. + +"I wonder what that fellow's game is," said the latter, "for, mark my +words, Aldy, he has a game, all these sort of men have. Did you see his +face when poor Blair lost?" + +"No, I was watching the cards," said the marquis. + +"Well, I wasn't. I was watching our palefaced friend, and if it was +sorrow on his face, then I don't know joy when I see it. I don't know +what his game is, and I can't even guess at it, but if he isn't winning +it, then I'm a Dutchman." + +Blair played on until the daylight came in faint streaks through the +Venetian blinds of the card room, and the hour of closing arrived. Then +he rose as listless and weary, as unmoved and calm as when he sat down. + +"You have lost," said Austin Ambrose, who still stood beside him. + +"Yes, I think so. Oh, yes, heavily." + +"Heavily!" echoed Austin Ambrose. "My dear Blair! And you have had a +run of bad luck all the week?" + +"Yes, luck has been against me," assented Blair, and he beckoned to a +footman who brought him some champagne. + +"You don't know how much you have lost?" continued Austin Ambrose, +watching him as he drank the wine. + +"No, not exactly. I told them to send the I O U's to Tyler & Driver's. +Are you going now? I am afraid I have kept you." + +"To Tyler & Driver's!" said Austin Ambrose, as he strove to keep +pace with Blair's long strides. "My dear fellow, Tyler told me only +yesterday that you had overdrawn your account, and that he did not know +how to arrange! And that was before this loss on Springtime! And there +are those I O U's to-night! Good heavens, my dear Blair, you will be +utterly ruined." + +Blair stopped and took out his cigar-case. + +"Got a light?" he said. "Never mind, I've found one. Ruined? Do they +say that? Well, they ought to know," and he laughed grimly. "So they +say I am ruined; well, what does it matter? If I am broke, I am the +only person to whom it will signify. If I were a married man, now, +and had got a wife----" He stopped, and the hand that held his cigar +quivered in the lamplight; "but I haven't, you see. Ruined! Well, +perhaps it's as well. What do fellows do when they go under, Austin? +Why, go abroad, don't they? I'll go abroad. I'll go to Boulogne, and +be a billiard marker, or I'll work my way out to Australia and turn +cattle runner." He stopped abruptly and looked up at the sky, now +streaked with the red rays of the coming sun. "Oh, Austin, if I could +only go to some place where I could forget her! She haunts me--haunts +me day and night! Go where I will, do what I will, I see her before me, +just as she looked as she stood on the hill waving her hand the last +morning"--his voice broke--"the last time I saw her. Oh, my darling, my +darling!" + +He stopped with a great sob, and then hurried on, drawing his hat over +his eyes. + +Austin Ambrose watched him with keen scrutiny, much as a surgeon might +watch the subject upon which he was experimenting with saw and knife. + +"Blair," he said, panting a little, for his victim walked fast. "You +should fight against this weakness. It is ruining you, body and soul. +It is not fair to yourself, or to your best friends. To me, for +instance, or to the earl." + +"The earl!" said poor Blair, with a bitter laugh. "What does he care?" + +"Or to Violet. Don't be angry, now," for Blair had turned upon him +almost savagely. "She is your friend, and you know it. Why don't you go +and see her?" + +"Why? Because I can go and see no one!" groaned the unhappy man. "I +tell you my lost darling haunts me continually. I see her so plainly +sometimes that I can scarcely believe she is really dead!" + +Austin Ambrose started, then smiled reassuringly to himself. + +"How can I mix with my fellow men in the state I am in? You must give +me time, man!" he cried almost savagely. "Give me time!" + +They had reached Blair's chambers by this, and with a nod he turned and +slowly mounted the stairs. + +Austin Ambrose, left alone, leant against the lamp-post and, panting +a little, lit a cigar, his cold, gray eyes fixed upon the light that +shone in Blair's window. + +"You fool!" he muttered. "You simple fool! I've got you in my net--and +her, too! Give you time! Yes, you shall have time, but whether you take +long or come quickly I have got you!" + +For a week after this Austin Ambrose saw nothing of him; he was missed +at his club, and--very much--missed at the Green Tables. No one could +tell where he had gone, but in truth he was wandering with a knapsack +on his back through an out-of-the-way part of the country, solitary and +companionless save by his own sad thoughts. + +At the end of the week Violet Graham was sitting moodily by the fire, +thinking of him and of the dark mystery of Margaret Hale's death, +wondering whether all her passionate desires would be fulfilled, when +a servant opening the door quietly, said: + +"Lord Leyton." + +She started to her feet, the blood coursing through her veins; then, +suddenly remembering Austin Ambrose's advice, sank down again, and, +looking over her shoulder, said, in a low and rather languid voice: + +"Oh, is that you, Blair?" + +Blair was very much relieved by the manner of his reception. He had +expected, and dreaded, a fuss, and he was grateful to her for sparing +him. + +"Yes, it's I," he said, taking her hand, which trembled a little, for +all her efforts to keep it steady. "You didn't expect to see me. I +ought to have called before, but----" he hesitated and looked down, as +men do who are bad at excuses. + +"But you are given to leaving undone what you should do, and doing +that which you should leave undone!" she said, with a soft laugh. "Of +course, I am glad to see you. Come nearer the fire. It is an awful +evening, isn't it?" + +"Beastly!" he said, and he drew his chair up to the fire. + +"You are just in time for tea. Shall we have lights?" + +"No," he replied, "unless you want them. I like this firelight." + +"It is rather cozy," she said. "I am fond of it myself. Will you ring +the bell?" + +He rang the bell, and the servant brought in the tea-tray, with its +little silver kettle, and placed it upon the small table near by. + +The fire burned brightly, the kettle sang, the richly yet +tastefully-furnished room was redolent of luxurious comfort, and poor +Blair nestled into his chair, and thought of the "beastly" weather +outside. + +Violet stole a glance at him as she busied herself with her tea-making, +and a sharp pang shot through her as she saw in the firelight the pale, +haggard face, which she had last seen so bright and careless. + +She was just about to say: "You have been very ill, haven't you?" but +once again she remembered Austin Ambrose's caution, and, instead, she +said: + +"Where have you been, Blair?" + +He started, and roused himself. + +"Lately, do you mean?" he said, looking at the fire still. "I have been +wandering about Somersetshire." + +"Not shooting with a party?" + +"No," he answered. "I have been alone. Just tramping round to--to kill +time. I have been rather seedy, you know, but I am all right now," he +added, quickly, as if he feared she might question him. + +All right! Her heart ached, but she forced a smile. + +"You don't take any care of yourself, Blair," she said, lightly, though +her soul was filled with bitterness at the thought that it was the loss +of that "other woman" which had wrought such havoc with him. "Here is +your tea; I think I remember how you like it." + +"It is first rate," he said. "You always used to make good tea, Vi." + +The color mounted to her face at the sound of the familiar name. How +long it was since she had heard him use it. + +"Did I? It is about the only thing I can do properly." + +Then she went on talking in a light and cheerful tone, the sort of talk +that exacts almost nothing from the listener--gossip about places and +people he knew, the last scandal of the five o'clock teas, pleasant +chat, to which he could listen or not, just as he chose. And Blair did +not listen all the time, but sat looking at the fire, with his teacup +in his hand, and marveling in a dreamy fashion at the faithfulness of +women. + +This girl--the most hunted heiress in London, pretty, accomplished, +every way desirable, whom he had neglected, almost deserted--received +him as if he had been most devoted and steadfast. It was wonderful! + +His heart smote him, and he felt drawn toward her in a curious kind of +way. + +After all, it is to the women men go when trouble smites them. There is +no heart so tender, no sympathy so sure as that of a woman. + + "Oh, woman, in our hours of ease. + Uncertain, coy, and hard to please-- + When pain and anguish wring the brow, + A ministering angel thou!" + +What a brute he had been not to come near her all this time! he +thought, and under the impulse of his self-reproach he felt inclined to +tell her all. + +"Vi," he said, abruptly, breaking into the middle of some story she was +telling him. + +"Well?" she said, turning her face to him, with a sudden light in her +eyes, a light of hope and expectancy. + +"I want to tell you," he said, passing his hand across his brow, "you +know I have been in trouble lately. You may have heard something of it +from Austin----" + +"From Austin Ambrose?" she said. "No. Why should he tell me?" + +"I didn't know. I thought perhaps he would. Vi, I have had a rough time +of it--a very rough time of it. I don't think any man has suffered +more than I have, during these last few months." + +He leant forward in his chair, and put up his hand, so that it hid his +face from her. + +"Tell me, Blair," she said. "Poor Blair!" and stretching out her hand +she laid it, softly as a feather, upon his. + +Something in her voice, or perhaps it was the touch of her hand, +reminded him of Margaret so keenly that he shuddered and his face went +white. + +She felt the shudder, and her acute sense saw the danger. + +"Stop, Blair," she murmured. "Perhaps it is better that you should not +tell me. Whatever it is--and it must have been something terrible--it +will be well that you should forget it; and you won't forget it any the +sooner by talking of it. No, don't tell me! But I am very sorry, Blair, +very--very." Her face paled, and her lips, which were very close to his +face as she bent forward, quivered. "I think I would go through a great +deal to save you from pain, Blair. We are such old friends, are we not?" + +"Yes--yes," he said, brokenly, and he put out his hand, and took hers +and pressed it. "Yes, you were always good to me--too good, Vi. I don't +deserve that you should be so kind now, after leaving you all this +time!" + +"Never mind that," she murmured, and her voice was as soft and tender +as only a woman's can be to the man she loves. "Don't let us think of +that. I will be as kind as you like, Blair!" + +The poor fellow's wounded heart was aching; his strength, mental and +physical, broken down by illness and the long, dreary tramp; something +suspiciously like tears shone in his eyes, and he raised her hand to +his lips in speechless gratitude for her kindness and gentleness. + +"Oh, not my hand, dear!" she murmured, and slipping down at his knees, +she put up her lips. + +Blair bent down and kissed her, as he was bound to do. He could not +have done otherwise, and by that kiss he sealed his fate. And yet, even +as he gave it, the sweet face of Margaret rose as plainly before him as +if it were she and not Violet Graham who knelt at his feet. + + + + +CHAPTER XXIV. + + +Margaret went to her beautiful suit of rooms that night with a beating +heart and a mind sorely troubled. + +Prince Rivani had proposed to her! + +It had come so unexpectedly that it overwhelmed her. There are a great +many princes in Italy--they are commoner there than with us, but still +a prince is a prince, and this one was amongst the best and highest of +his order. Margaret had not dreamed that he would have condescended +to bestow more than a passing and friendly thought upon the unknown +English woman who dwelt in his house as the governess and companion to +his sister. + +And now, quite suddenly, without preparation, he had asked her to be +his wife! + +It seemed incredible, but it was only too true; and what was she to do? + +It would have been bad enough if she had been an ordinary English +woman, and her insignificance and poverty the only drawbacks; but +her position was not so good as that even. There was a blot upon her +escutcheon which made it impossible for her to be the wife of any +honest man, however humble he might be, least of all the wife of so +great a man as Prince Rivani! + +She had so completely buried all thought of love in the tomb of the +past, that it had never occurred to her that a man might fall in love +with her, and now, as she stood before the glass and looked dreamily +and sadly at her face, she was bound to admit, and that without vanity, +that she was beautiful; but how beautiful, how supremely lovely, she +herself did not guess. + +But now what was she to do? Improbable and unlikely as it seemed, +Prince Rivani _had_ fallen in love with her and asked her to be his +wife, and, as it was simply impossible that she should marry him, +there was only one course open for her; she must leave the villa and +Florence, and at once. + +She sighed deeply as the conviction was forced upon her. She had been, +after a fashion, almost happy; she had been at peace at any rate with +these great people, who had lavished their kindness upon her and won +her gratitude and love. + +And now she must go! Must leave the kind old lady, who, with all her +stateliness, had ever been tender to the unknown English girl; leave +Florence who loved her with all the warmth of her young unscathed heart! + +She sighed again, and, opening the window, looked out at the night, or +rather morning, for midnight had passed some hours since, and as she +did so the faint perfume of a cigar floated up to her, and she saw the +tall figure of the prince walking to and fro on the terrace beneath. +He, too, was sleepless, and thinking of her! She closed the window +quietly and was beginning to undress, when there came a knock at the +door and the Princess Florence entered. + +For the first time Margaret was not glad to see her, but Florence +unsuspectingly ran in and put her arm round the white shapely neck. + +"Oh, forgive me, dear!" she murmured, with the impulsive enthusiasm of +her age. "But I could not go to sleep until I came to you and told you +how glad I am!" + +"Glad?" said Margaret, flushing quickly, and tossing the long tresses +of silky hair so that they hid her face. + +"Yes, glad!" repeated Florence, joyously. "Why, you dear, sly girl, you +are not going to be so wicked as to pretend that you don't know what +has happened?" + +"What has happened?" said Margaret, her face all aflame for a moment, +then growing pale. + +"I mean your great success to-night," said the girl, sinking at +Margaret's feet and leaning her head against her knee. "I can't sleep +for thinking of it. The countess says she remembers nothing like it, it +is not only the picture, which was quite enough to make you famous, but +yourself, dear--yourself! Isn't it almost too unfair for one person to +be so lovely and bewitching and also so clever?" + +Margaret forced a smile and smoothed the girl's rather rough locks. + +"Are you making fun of me, princess?" she said pleasantly, and yet a +little sadly. + +The princess looked up at her amazedly, then uttered an exclamation. + +"Then it really is true that you don't know that you have caused such +a sensation?" she exclaimed. "Why, dear, it was a _furore_, it was a +'_Veni_, _vidi_, _vici_,' as our ancient emperor said. Do you know +that directly you left the _salon_ everybody fell to talking about +you, though they had done that while you were there under pretense +of talking about your picture. They all talked about you as if you +were something that had dropped out of the skies, and we Rivanis were +lucky to own the particular spot of earth upon which your divinityship +descended." + +Margaret laughed softly. The girl's enthusiasm amused her, and yet it +was honest enough. + +"You may laugh, but let me tell you, you quiet little woman, that your +name will be ringing all through Italy before the week is out!" + +"I sincerely trust not," said Margaret. + +"Oh, but it will!" retorted the princess. "Signor Alfero is going to +send your picture to be exhibited, and he will express the admiration +he feels for it all through Rome; and Rome--which is the art-center of +the world--will spread it through Europe, and you will be famous! And +then people will ask what the artist is like, and the countess and +all those whose hearts you won to-night will tell what a lovely and +charming girl you are, and you will have the world at your feet!" + +"You talk nonsense very eloquently, princess," said Margaret gently. + +"Is it nonsense? That is good! I will tell Ferdinand!" + +"Ferdinand--the prince!" said Margaret. + +"Yes," laughed Florence. "For if it is nonsense, it is his nonsense, +for I heard him say it after you left the room; and he said it almost +gravely, as if he were sad rather than otherwise. Now, why should he be +sad?" she went on, looking up at Margaret's face thoughtfully. + +"Isn't it rather too late for guessing riddles, dear?" suggested +Margaret. + +"Late! Who could sleep after such a night?" exclaimed the princess, +with the sublime contempt for repose belonging to her age. "Why should +he be sad, dear? I know he admires you, for when the countess asked him +if he thought you pretty--pretty! What impertinence!--he smiled and +said, 'No!' and he meant that he thought you more than pretty--lovely!" + +"Do you think it is quite fair to construe his thoughts?" said Margaret. + +"Oh, everything is fair in love and war----" She stopped suddenly and +looked up at Margaret, and her face flushed eagerly. "Oh! Do you know +a thought has struck me. Only think, if Ferdinand should----" She +stopped, and clasped Margaret round her waist. "Why, I believe he does +already. Oh, dear! It seems almost too good to be true. But fancy if +you should, some day, become my real sister!" + +Margaret's face crimsoned, then gradually grew pale and strained. + +"Princess," she said slowly, "never jest on such a subject again--for +my sake and your own." + +Gently as the words were spoken, they frightened the young girl. + +"Oh, what have I said?" she murmured. "Was it very wicked?" and her +lips began to tremble. + +Margaret forced a smile, and caressed the rumpled hair tenderly. + +"A philosopher who was also a wit once declared that a thing was worse +than wicked, it was absurd," she said; "and that is also my answer, +and now go to bed, dear, or you will appear at the breakfast table and +frighten all your friends, for they will think they see the ghost of +the Princess Florence." + +The girl thought that her incautious speech had struck some discord in +her dear friend's heart, and, kissing her penitently, stole from the +room. + +"Yes," said Margaret to herself, "I must leave them--I must go into +hiding again. Oh, Blair, Blair, you have not only ruined my past, but +blighted all my future! It is not only that no love can ever visit my +heart again, but you have made even peace impossible!" + +Meanwhile the prince strode up and down the terrace, smoking his +cigar and glancing now and again up at the windows of the room which +contained the woman he loved. + +Prince Rivani, the descendant of a noble race, was young, handsome, a +favorite at court, a gallant officer, a popular young man all round, +and yet he was neither vain nor a fool--which is singular. + +To say that he had fallen in love with Margaret the first time he saw +her, when he nearly rode her down, would be to say too much; but when +she came to live at the villa, and he saw her day by day, her beauty, +and grace, and that sweetness which is given to so few women, but which +she possessed so abundantly, grew upon him, until he awoke one day to +find that his heart had left him, and that he loved the young English +girl of whose past he knew--nothing! + +King Cophetua and the beggar girl is a very pretty story, and no doubt +the king was very happy with his bride for a time, but the story does +not go on to tell us that they were happy ever afterward, and as a +matter of fact we may conclude that the monarch who marries a beggar +maid commits a remarkably rash act. Such matches are not always happy +ones. + +Prince Rivani knew that he was expected to marry a lady of his own +rank, or at any rate, of his own class. He knew that there were at +least half a dozen beautiful women at the court, from whom he might +choose a wife, and from whom he would be expected to choose one. "To +marry beneath him," would, if it did not quite break her heart, make +his mother, the signora, very unhappy, and would probably ruin his +promising career. + +He was a gentleman, and he was not a fool, so he went off to court +determined to cure himself of the passion which had assailed him, and +to forget the lovely English girl with the sad look in her dark eyes, +and the sweet smile which made him long to keep it on her face forever. + +It was a task beyond his strength, this forgetting her, but he had +hoped that he was out of danger, when he returned and lo!--discovered +that her love had taken too firm a hold upon his heart to be rooted +out. The girl he had left unknown and of little account in the world, +had suddenly, in a night, become famous. The glamour of her beauty, +which had so affected even strangers, exercised a fascination for him, +and he had spoken and avowed his love. + +And she had refused him--or something like it. It was this refusal he +was pondering over as he paced up and down, smoking cigar after cigar, +long after the rest of the villa was hushed in quietude, if not repose. + +Should he accept her refusal? No, he would not, he could not! She had +become part and parcel of his very life; all his thoughts centered +in her. At night he lay awake and called up her face; at day he +thought of and longed for her. And to lose her at a word! She had said +"No," because he had startled her. He had been too sudden and too +abrupt!--the very first night of his return to the villa. He should +have waited and prepared her by his attentions for the avowal he had +sprung upon her last night. + +No, he would not relinquish the hope which made life sweet to him so +easily; he would win her even against herself if need were. + +So, with one more glance at the window, the prince went to his rooms, +to lie awake and watch the dawn creeping over the fair city which his +race had helped to make illustrious. + +Margaret did not appear at the breakfast table; but her absence was not +commented on, for it was understood by all that the Villa Capri was +Liberty Hall, and that each guest was fit to come and go as he or she +pleased. So they made up for her absence by talking of her as they had +talked the preceding night. + +They were all curious, highly curious, to know something about her; but +the signora, when appealed to, smiled her serene smile and shook her +head. + +"I can't tell you anything about her," she said; "I have never asked +her for her confidence. She is a lady, and that is sufficient for me." + +And they remained silent, for they could scarcely be so rude as to +suggest that what sufficed for the signora did not satisfy them! + +The guests dispersed after breakfast, the ladies to their boudoirs +and the music-room, the gentlemen to the armory for their guns, for a +shooting expedition had been planned. + +The prince, as in duty bound, went with it, though he would far rather +have remained at home in his study to think of Margaret. + +They returned in time to dress for dinner, and the prince, who seemed +tired, went straight to his sister's room. + +"Oh, is it you, Ferdy?" she said; "you have just come in time to coil +up this plait for me. My maid has run off to Miss Leslie's room; she +is always so anxious to desert me for her. They are all alike--the +servants, I mean; I think they worship her!" and she laughed with a +poor imitation of a pout. + +The prince gathered up a plait of the shining hair, and kissed it with +brotherly affection as he attempted to arrange it. + +"They all love her, do they?" he said; "and you, too, Florrie, eh?" + +"And you, too, Ferdy, eh?" she retorted, glancing round at him wickedly. + +He did not flush, but met her gaze steadily. + +"And I, too, Florence," he said, gravely. + +"Oh, Ferdy," she exclaimed, clasping her hands, "I am so glad!--I am +so happy! I thought it was so, but I only thought. And--oh, I don't +know what to say--and when are you going to tell her?" she demanded +impetuously. + +"I have told her," he said, quietly. + +"And--oh!" for she read the result in his eyes. + +"Never mind," he said, gently; "all is not lost yet. But do not speak +of it--least of all to her. Have you seen her to-day--has she been +down?" + +"I have seen her, but she has not been down. She has kept her own +apartments, and has been working; and yet only a very little, I think. +Oh, Ferdy, it can't be because she doesn't love you; that's impossible." + +"Thank you," he said, forcing a smile. "You will thrive at court, +Florrie." + +"But it can't be! There must be something else--somebody else!" + +His face grew pale and his lips contracted, and he opened his lips as +if to speak, but he remained silent for a moment, then said: + +"I must dress, or I shall be late," and left the room. + +On his way he passed the door of Margaret's painting-room, and as he +did so the princess' maid came out. She started and stepped back with +a courtesy, leaving the door open. Margaret came to the door to say +something to the maid, and seeing the prince, stopped short. + +For a moment they looked at each other without saying anything; then +he bowed and drew a little nearer, and as the servant sped noiselessly +away, said in a low voice, full of respect and reverence: + +"Miss Leslie, will you forget what I said last night? No, not forget, +but remember that I will not speak again without your permission?" + +Margaret inclined her head. + +"You are my mother's guest, as well as the woman I love, and I will +keep the silence you commanded! You will honor us with your company at +table?" + +Margaret could find no words, but she inclined her head in assent, and +the prince, with a low bow, which seemed as eloquent of gratitude and +worship as the most ardent words could have been, left her. + +That night, while the rest gathered round her, vying with each other +for a word or a smile, the prince kept away from her side. Only twice +did he address her; once to bring her a fan when the room grew hot; and +the second time, to lay a shawl by her side when, the windows having +been opened, the temperature changed rapidly. + +The days glided on. Fresh additions were made to the party, but +Margaret's popularity did not decrease. Fame, that had been prophesied +for her, came, for her picture had been exhibited. + +The great Alfero had expressed his admiration, and her name was ringing +through Rome as that of the coming artist. + +And through it all Margaret's heart was haunted by trouble. Day after +day she met the prince, and his conduct toward her was the same. But +though he refrained from paying her marked attention, it was evident to +her and Florence--who watched him--that he was continually thinking of +her. + +Others might flock round her with the ready flattery of their ready +tongues, courting the young girl whose picture had become famous in the +world of art, and her beauty the theme in the world of fashion, but +it was he who now and again stood with extended hand to help her into +the carriage, or placed some choice blossom near her plate. No woman, +daughter of Eve, could be insensible to devotion such as this; it would +have touched a heart of stone, and Margaret's heart was anything but +stony. + +She scarcely exchanged three words a day with him, but she found +herself looking toward him when he spoke to others, and meeting his +gaze, which seemed to be always wandering toward her, her own eyes +would fall, and her lips tremble. + +Get away she must: and yet how? Night after night she lay awake +trying to frame some excuse which would withstand the entreaties of +the signora and Florence; and she decided to remain until the party +broke up and the prince returned to the court, and then she would +vanish--forever. + +The last night arrived. The party had been out on the hills, and +returned with the gayety of spirits which we English--alas!--know +nothing of. The great banqueting hall was brilliant with light, and +the guests in their magnificent costumes and gorgeous uniforms gave +additional splendor to the decorations. + +Margaret stole down to the drawing-room a few minutes before the gong +sounded, and her advent was the signal for a crowd of courtiers to +throng round her. + +"I should think you would be glad when we are all gone!" said one, a +white-haired veteran, who seemed to find it impossible to leave the +side of the quiet English girl, with her sweet smile and rare eyes. "I +know you artists so love quiet, and we make such a noise, do we not? +Alas! we shall all be quiet enough to-morrow, for we shall be far away +from the dear villa, and thinking of you----" + +"Please include me, count," said the signora. + +He made her a bow. + +"I spoke collectively, of course," he said, amidst the general laugh, +and not a whit discomposed. "If you knew how dreary you make the court +after your villa, and how we pine after you all!" he said, with a +sigh. "Why, I declare, to-day, if it had not been for the effort which +becomes a duty, we should most of us have been in tears. I missed +everything I shot at, did I not, prince? But, bah! I must not appeal to +you, for you were as bad. Indeed, I do not know what has come to you +lately; you have lost your own altogether." + +"That is true," said a young _attache_; "and Rivani used to be the best +shot amongst us; the best I know, except Blair Leyton." + +The prince was standing beside Margaret, showing her some photographs +of Rome which he had sent for, and was paying no attention to the +general conversation. + +"That is St. Peter's," he was saying, when suddenly Blair's name smote +upon her ear. + +She looked up, pale as death, and the photograph fell from her hand to +the floor. Half a dozen hands were outstretched to recover it, but the +prince stooped and picked it up, and stood in front of her as a screen. + +"Are you ill?" he asked in a low voice; but Margaret did not hear him. +She sat, leaning forward a little, her face deadly white, her eyes +fixed upon the young _attache_. + +The prince took up a fan and unobtrusively fanned her, his fine eyes +fixed on her face with the tenderest regard. + +She did not seem as if she were about to faint, but rather as if she +had fallen into a trance. + +"Blair Leyton?" said the count. "Blair Leyton?" and at every repetition +of the name a tremulous quiver passed rapidly over Margaret's white +face. + +"Yes, Viscount Leyton, the Earl of Ferrers' nephew. Surely you remember +him, general?" + +"Oh, yes," said the count. "I had forgotten for the moment. Yes, yes! +He was a good shot. One in a thousand. I was with him in the Black +Forest--and in England, too. A wonderful shot! A wonderful young man, +too," he added; then, as some reminiscence occurred to him, he warmed +into enthusiasm. "A fine specimen of an English sportsman. I do not +think I ever saw a young man ride as he rode. It was in one of the +English hunting counties; and he was riding a perfect demon of a horse. +There was no other man on the field who would have got into the saddle, +and yet this young lord rode him as if he were a lady's palfrey. I saw +him jump----" He stopped and smiled. "I am afraid, my dear signora, you +would not believe me if I were to tell you. It was a tremendous jump, +and to miss it meant a broken limb--or a broken neck." + +He paused, and Margaret, who had been fighting against the terrible +effect the mere mention of Blair's name had worked upon her, recovered, +and with a sigh, withdrew her eyes from the speaker, and looked up at +the prince. + +"Are you better?" he murmured, still screening her from the rest, and +affecting to examine the costly fan he held. + +"I--I am quite well," she said, looking down. "It must have been the +heat." + +"Doubtless," he said. "I will see the dining-room is cooler." + +The gong sounded at the moment, and he had to leave her and give his +arm to the countess, but Margaret heard him give directions to the +servants respecting the dining-room windows. + +The dinner proceeded. Her chair was placed within about six of his at +the bottom of the table, and sometimes he would lean forward and say +a few words; but to-night, although he watched her with that tender +scrutiny of which Love teaches us the secret, he said nothing. And she +sat silent, not listening to the talk around her, but thinking of that +past which Blair's name had recalled all too vividly. The splendid +room, the brilliant company, faded from her sight, and in their place +rose the inclosed garden at the Court, and in the moon rays stood close +by her side the man who even then, as she thought, was plotting her +ruin! + +Suddenly she heard his name again. It was the old general, who, +apparently, could not forget the young Englishman who had taken the big +jump. + +"Has any one seen Viscount Leyton lately?" he inquired. + +Margaret had a piece of bread in her hand, and was breaking it, but the +prince saw her hand fall, and her fingers close over the bread with a +convulsive clutch. + +"I saw him when I was in London a month ago, count," said the young +_attache_. + +"Indeed. And is he as strong and cheerful as ever? Dear me, I remember +him singing a song--a stupid sort of song; but he sang it with that +light-hearted _chic_ which the French so pride themselves on, but +which, after all, one sees oftenest in the English." + +"Blair Leyton wasn't very light-hearted when I saw him last," said +the young man. "He was awfully changed. He'd been ill, so they said, +and very unlucky, too. Something had gone wrong with him, I fancy; an +'affection of the heart,' I suppose. Your Englishman, when he loses his +mistress, invariably takes to drink or gambling. I don't fancy Blair +would sink to the former, so I imagine he had been going in for the +latter. You know the Green Table Club, general?" + +The count made a significant grimace, and executed something very like +a wink, and the _attache_ nodded significantly. + +"Poor fellow, he was always reckless and careless, but lately they say +he was positively desperate. He must have been living pretty hard, for +he is so fearfully altered; the mere shadow of his old self; and you +know what a splendid fellow he was, general?" + +"Ah, yes," assented the old soldier. "I thought when I saw him that I +would give a good deal to have him in my brigade. And he was so altered +and broken, you say?" + +"Oh, terribly. I heard, too, that he had lost nearly all his property. +He had a great deal in his own right, in addition to his heirdom of the +Ferrers property." + +"It is a dreadful thing to see a man so richly endowed go to the dogs +in that fashion," said the general, who had borne anything but a +character for steadiness in his youth. + +A smile went round the table, and the _attache_, to close the subject, +remarked: + +"Oh, I hope the dogs will be disappointed yet. There was a rumor of a +match between Blair and the great heiress, Miss Violet Graham; but I +can't vouch for the truth of it, seeing I got it from a man whose word +I wouldn't hang a dog on--Austin Ambrose." + +"Austin Ambrose, a man with a face like a mask, and a trick of looking +over your head while he is talking to you?" said the general. "Oh, yes, +I remember him. He was always with Lord Leyton." + +"And is still," said the _attache_. + +The subject had run itself out, and the conversation took another +turn, but all the time it had been dealing with Blair Leyton, Margaret +had set, her eyes fixed on the cloth, her hand closed on the piece of +bread, and when it had concluded she looked up and round about her, +like one awaking from a dream. + +The signora signaled to the ladies and rose, when the prince held up +his hand. + +"Pardon, my mother, but you have forgotten the toast." + +"Ah, the toast, yes," she said, and with a placid smile sank down again. + +The prince filled the glass of the lady near him with wine, and leaning +forward poured some into Margaret's glass. + +"It is our custom on the night before our departure, Miss Leslie, to +drink this toast--'To our next meeting!'" and as he spoke he rose and +raised his glass. + +All rose, ladies included, and lifted their glasses above their heads, +and Margaret did the same. But her hand felt weak and tremulous. +Blair's name was still ringing in her ears, and almost unconsciously +she let the glass slip from her fingers. The red wine ran down her +dress, where it made no sign, but reaching the table-cloth marked it +with a blood-like stain. + +The party looked rather grave, for it was considered a bad omen, but +the prince, with his ever ready tact, laughed. + +"Bravo, Miss Leslie!" he exclaimed. "That is the Greek fashion; you +have secured the fulfillment of the toast by pouring a libation to the +gods." + +She looked at him gratefully, as his "bravo" was echoed by the rest of +the gentlemen, and then she passed out with the ladies. + +As if to dispel the slightly grave impression which poor Margaret's +accident had produced, the men were merrier over their wine than usual, +and the prince seemed, as in duty bound, the brightest of them all; +but at intervals his handsome face grew grave and thoughtful. At last +they rose and sauntered into the _salon_; but the prince, instead of +joining a group of ladies, walked through into the conservatory, and +sinking into the seat on which Margaret had sat, folded his arms and +gave himself up to reverie. He remained there for a quarter of an hour, +then, with the firm yet light step peculiar to him, strode into the +drawing-room, and going up to Margaret, who was seated, by herself for +a wonder, in a shady corner, bent down and said: + +"Will you give me a few minutes?" + +Margaret looked up at him almost pleadingly, but he met her gaze +steadily, and with a little sigh she rose and laid her fingers on his +arm. + +He led her through a doorway opening to a portion of the terrace, which +was inclosed by glass and occupied by some palms and statuary. The +moon shone through the brown leaves and fell in white gleams upon the +marble figures. Through the thick curtains the sound of the voices and +music in the _salon_ came fitfully, but the prince and Margaret were +as little likely to be intruded on as if they were in the midst of a +forest. + +For a moment or two he stood looking up at the moon, as if he were +choosing his words, then he turned to her, and laying his hand upon her +white fingers, he said in a low but firm voice: + +"You know why I asked you to be gracious enough to come here with me?" + +Margaret remained silent, her heart beating heavily. + +"Miss Leslie, to-morrow I leave Florence. I may not return for months, +or I may get leave of absence and come back within a few days. It rests +with you. The words I spoke to you the other night, they are what I +would speak again now. Miss Leslie, I love you; will you be my wife?" + +Margaret raised her pale face, and regarded him sorrowfully. + +"Prince, it cannot be," she murmured. "Oh, I wish--I wish you had not +told me----" + +"I could not do otherwise than tell you," he said gravely, and with a +manly tenderness. "Why should I conceal that which my heart feels? And +why cannot it be?" and his fingers closed over hers. + +"You forget, prince, you are a nobleman, one of the noblest in Italy, +and I----" She stopped. + +If he but knew how far beneath and removed from him she was! + +"It is true I am a nobleman," he said gently, his dark eyes seeking +hers eagerly. "It may be true that you have no title, that to the +world our rank may seem unequal; but I love you--you, Mary Leslie, and +I should not love you better, it could make no difference to me if +you were--well, Queen of England. Besides, have you forgotten that +you have a rank that is all your own, won by your genius, a rank more +exalted and worthy in my eyes than that of an empress. You are a famous +artist, while I--I am but the wearer of a title and sundry decorations, +which I share with a score of other men as insignificant in other ways. +Ah, listen to me, dear Miss Leslie. I have never loved until I saw you. +I cannot ever love any one else. I can never hope to be happy unless I +win you----" + +"Oh, no, no!" she murmured, with deep agitation. "Do not say that, +prince, for it can never be, never! never! Even if my rank equaled your +own; even if----" she paused. + +"Even if you loved me! Is that what you were going to say?" he +inquired, his voice tremulous with suppressed passion. "Ah, say it, +dearest! Let me hear the sweet words from your lips! You _shall_ love +me! Yes, for I will win your love from you, even against yourself," +and he made to draw her near to him, but Margaret drew back, her eyes +regarding him pleadingly and sorrowfully. + +"No, prince," she said, almost inaudibly. "Even if I loved you I could +not be your wife." + +He waited while she gained strength to go on, waited with that +chivalrous delicacy and patience which distinguished him. + +"It is impossible, prince. Think what it is you do. You are asking me +to share your rank, your noble name, one who is a stranger to you, of +whom you know nothing"--she paused--"who may be anything that is base +and unworthy----" + +"Oh, stop!" he said, pleadingly; "do I not know that you are all that +is good, and true, and pure? Have I not lived in the same house with +you, listened to your voice? A man blind to all else could not but see +that you are worthy to be the wife of any one, be he whom he may." + +"No," she murmured; "it cannot be. Let me go, prince. I will go away, +far from Florence, from Italy----" + +He stopped her with a sudden gesture, a glance of fear and dread. + +"You--you are married?" he said. + +Margaret started, then she shook her head. + +"I am not married, prince; but there is a dark shadow in my life, a +sorrow and a shame." + +Her voice faltered and broke, and her hand closed on his with a +convulsive grasp. + +"Shame?" he breathed. + +"Yes," she said, nerving herself; "shame! Now, prince, you know why it +is that I cannot be your wife. Spare me, and let me go." + +He stood, white as the marble faces looking down at him, his eyes fixed +on her face, yet scarcely seeming to see her. + +"Shame!" he repeated, like a man who speaks during some horrible dream. + +Margaret tried to shrink from him, but his hand held hers in a clasp of +steel. + +"Shame and--you!" he said at last. "You! Oh, it is impossible." Then +he looked in her face, bent low and humbly, like a drooping lily, and +he uttered a faint cry. It was the cry of a man who has been mortally +wounded. + +There was silence for a moment, then he let her hand fall, and +turned--not to forsake her, but to hide his face from her. Margaret +waited a second, then crept closer to him. + +"Will you--can you forgive me, prince?" she murmured brokenly. "I +should not have come here, but--but I was sorely tempted. I was +alone--alone, and craving for sympathy and love--and your mother and +sister gave them to me. I had no right to enter their presence, much +less to accept their love, but--ah, if you knew all!" and a sigh choked +her voice. + +"Tell me all," he said, turning to her almost sternly; "tell me +all--all! The name of the man----" He stopped, and his hands clinched +tightly at his side. + +Margaret shrank back with a look of fear. + +"No, no!" she gasped; "not a word. It is all past and--and buried. I am +as one that is dead to the world, and he--he is forgiven." + +"Forgiven!" he echoed. "Ay, by an angel; but we are not all angels. No; +some of us are men." + +His face was so awful in its wrath and craving for vengeance that +Margaret sprung to him and seized his arm. + +"Prince, what would you do?" + +He took her hand and dropped it from his arm with a little shudder, as +if her touch had stung him; then, half mad with love, half frenzied by +the passionate desire for vengeance on her behalf and his own, he took +her hand and pressed it to his lips. + +"I understand!" he said hoarsely; "oh, yes; I understand! He has +wronged you--but you love him still!" + +Margaret shrunk back, and covered her face with her hands. + +"Yes," he muttered: "you love him still. Heaven help me!" + +Margaret's heart was wrung by the agony in that cry of a strong man +mortally stricken, and in her anguish and pity she fell at his feet, +sobbing bitterly. + +He looked down at her for a moment, all his soul speaking in his white, +working face, then he raised her and gently led her to a door leading +to one of the staircases, and held back the curtain that she might pass +through. + +"Good-bye!" he said. "Do not be afraid that--that I shall torture you +with my presence. You spoke of leaving the villa. Do not. I ask that +much of you. Grant it to me." + +With bowed head, Margaret passed through, and, letting the curtain +fall, he stood for awhile like one of the statues surrounding him; +then, with a gesture terrible in its intensity, he raised one hand +toward heaven, and vowed that he would know no rest till he had avenged +her. + +And so sprung into existence a foe to Blair more deadly than he had +ever known, a foe spurred, not by personal hate, but by the passionate +desire to wreak vengeance on behalf of the woman of whose love he had +been robbed, whose life this unknown man had stained with shame. + +And on that day, miles away, at Leyton Court, lay the great Earl of +Ferrers--dying. + +"What is the use of being a king if one must die?" exclaimed the +Emperor Nero, who had caused death to others too often not to know what +it meant. + +The great earl, with half a dozen titles to his name, and half a +county owning his sway, lay upon a couch in his sitting-room, upon +which flickered the rays of the setting sun, fitly typifying his own +approaching withdrawal beneath the horizon of life. + +At his side sat Violet Graham, who had been sent for in haste some few +days back, and who had remained in close attention upon the old man. + +Near as he was to that grim door through which all mortality passes +never to return, the earl still bore himself as a patrician should. The +face was drawn and lined, the white hands were gray and transparent, +but the eyes still shone calmly and resolutely. + +"Has he come, my dear?" he asked. + +"Not yet, my lord," said Violet Graham, starting slightly and flushing +faintly. "It is scarcely time, I think." + +"I suppose he will come," said the earl, dryly, "or will he find +himself unable to leave the gaming-table and his other pursuits for a +few hours?" + +"I--I do not think Blair plays much now, my lord," she said, in a low +voice. + +"You do not know," he said, grimly. "No one knows. His life is a +mystery. Why has he not been near me--when did you see him last?" + +Her face paled as she remembered the night Blair had come to Park Lane +and kissed her. + +"Not--not very lately, sir. Not for some weeks." + +"Then he may be abroad--at Monte Carlo or some other congenial place?" + +"No," she said, in a low voice; "he has not left London." + +He looked at her with the shrewdness of old age. + +"You keep yourself informed of his movements; you care for him still, +Violet?" + +She did not answer, but her keen eyes met his for a moment, and her +small, restless fingers plucked at the edge of the silk shawl which she +had thrown over him. + +The earl sighed. + +"The love of women!" he muttered. "It passes all comprehension. My poor +girl!" + +"Do not pity me, sir," she said. "Perhaps----" she stopped. + +"You think all may yet be well?" he said, with suppressed eagerness, +and with a sudden flash of light in his eyes. + +She did not reply, but he read her answer in her downcast face. + +"It would save him!" he murmured. "But would it make you happy? My poor +Violet----" + +"If not, then nothing else will," she said, a deep red covering her +face. + +Before he could make any response, the door opened and a servant +announced Viscount Leyton. + +Violet Graham turned pale, and rising, passed out of the room by one +door as Blair entered by the other. + +The earl held out his hand; Blair, advancing quietly, took it, and the +two men, the great earl and the one who would so soon take his place, +looked at each other; then the earl let Blair's hand drop, and sighed. + +"Great heavens!" he said, in the low and feeble voice, "judging by +countenances we might well change places!" and he looked at Blair's +haggard but still handsome face. + +Blair smiled grimly. + +"What have you been doing? But no need to ask. Have you been trying to +kill yourself?" + +Blair smiled again, and then sank into a chair. + +"Never mind me, sir," he said, gently, and his voice, for it was as +soft as a woman's when he was moved, made the old man wince; "I am of +no account. I did not know you were so ill until I got your letter--or +rather Violet Graham's. Are you better? I trust so." + +"Oh, yes, I am better. I shall soon be quite well--if there is any +truth in the pleasant things good people tell us of the other land. +But I did not ask you to exchange sickroom commonplaces with a dying +man----" + +Blair laid his still strong hand upon the thin, shriveled one. + +"Don't talk of dying, sir! Please Heaven there are many years before +you yet! You have not squandered your strength, as--as some of us have." + +"Lord Leyton, for instance," said the earl, with a smile. "No, I won't +talk of dying. We will talk of something more profitable. Blair, you +will be the Earl of Ferrers presently; a few days, weeks, perhaps, +and you will be the master of the Court. I have done my best for you, +although you have done the worst for yourself." + +"The very worst, sir," assented Blair, with the smile which, grim as it +was, was still pleasant to see. + +"The very worst! But it is not too late yet." + +Blair looked hard at the carpet. + +"Not too late! Blair, all your own property is gone, they tell me?" + +"They tell you truly, sir," said poor Blair, gravely. + +"But there is still the Court, and there will be my own money! I have +saved for years. You will be rich, even as rich men go nowadays. Are +you going to fling it all in the gutter, like that which has gone +before?" + +Blair remained silent. The old man watched the weary, haggard face +keenly. + +"I see! Ah, well! It will not matter to me, I suppose? But it is rather +a pity, is it not? Ours is a good title, not a mushroom affair of +yesterday. There are stones in the Court upon which time and history +have set their seal, and they are to be flung in the gutter, eh? And +with the heart of one of the best girls in England to be broken----" + +Blair started. For a second he had thought of Margaret, though he knew +it was Violet Graham whom the earl meant. + +"Poor girl! What fools men are!" Then his voice grew pathetic in its +earnestness and entreaty. "Blair, is it too late? You owe me something, +I think; I know you owe something to your name and all that belongs to +it. Is it too late? Think! A woman's love, a good woman's heart is too +priceless to be spurned with a light laugh. Blair, I, your kinsman, +lying here dying, prefer one request. I do not ask you to spare this +old roof or the wealth I leave you, but I do ask you to grasp the +happiness within your reach. Will you make Violet your wife?" + +Blair rose and paced the room. An agitation which seemed utterly beyond +reason worked in his face. The old earl watched him in silence for a +moment, then he said with a sigh: + +"I understand. You refuse?" + +"No," said Blair, "I consent. I will marry Violet, if she wishes it, +and, please Heaven, I will try and be less unworthy of her." + +The earl raised himself on his elbow, and touched a silver bell, and +fell back panting on his cushions, and as Blair bent over him, the door +opened, and Violet entered. + +Her quick eyes glanced at Blair questioningly, but before either of +them could speak, the earl took her hand and said: + +"Violet, Blair has asked you of me for his wife. What have you to say?" + +Her face went pale, then grew crimson, and she steadied herself by the +head of the couch. + +"Yes," she breathed, then just touching Blair's hand, she glided past +him and fled to her own room. + +The news spread with marvelous rapidity--for Violet told her maid +within ten minutes of the proposal; but the interest that was excited +was as nothing to that called forth by the further announcement that +the marriage was to take place immediately. + +The whims of dying men, especially when they are as great and as mighty +as the Earl of Ferrers, must be regarded, and it was the desire of the +earl that he should see his nephew, Blair, married to his ward, Violet +Graham, before he died. + +Under such circumstances it could not be anything but a quiet wedding; +but even a quiet wedding between two young persons of their rank +requires some preparations, and though these were hastened by the +expenditure of large sums of money, a week had elapsed since their +betrothal before they stood hand in hand before the altar in the little +chapel of the Court. + +Never perhaps had Violet looked handsomer. She had loved Blair Leyton +for years with a passion of which, fortunately for the general peace, +the fair sex alone is capable; and now she had got the desire of +her heart, and he was her own. The fullness of her happiness almost +frightened her, and as she found courage to glance up once at the pale, +handsome face of the bridegroom, a sudden pang shot through her, the +pang of a doubt and a dread which she strove to kill even as she felt +them. + +Would she be able to win his love, or, if after all her striving and +its success, should she but own the shadow and semblance of the heart +she craved for? + +The little chapel was nearly empty, for only a few of the household +had been permitted to view the ceremony, and no other guests had been +asked. + +At the request of Blair himself, an invitation had been sent to Austin +Ambrose, but he had declined. It was, therefore, with some surprise, +that Blair, as he returned from the altar with his wife--his wife--upon +his arm, saw Austin Ambrose's tall, thin figure standing near the door. +The sight of him gave Blair a sudden chill, for it recalled that other +church in sleepy Sefton, and that other bride whom he had lost forever, +but whose image was still enshrined in his heart; but he summoned up a +smile, and held put his hand. + +"You have come after all, then?" he said. + +"Yes," said Austin Ambrose, with his calm smile. "I found that I could +not keep away, and so ventured to look in, just to see the ceremony." + +Then he turned to Violet Graham, who, rather pale now, had stood +silently regarding him. + +"One inducement, Lady Leyton," he said, his eyes looking over her head +and carefully avoiding hers, "one irresistible inducement was my desire +to be among the first to wish your ladyship the happiness and joy you +so well deserve!" and he held out his hand. + +Lady Leyton's face grew even paler as she gave him her hand, but as he +grasped hers a shudder ran through her, and her eyes sought his face +with a quick glance of alarm, for his hand was so cold that it struck +like an icicle even through her glove. + +And yet what could harm her? Was she not Blair's wife's, the +Viscountess Leyton, the future Countess of Ferrers? + +So, with a smile, she passed on. + + + + +CHAPTER XXV. + + +Christmas had gone and there was a vague suggestion of spring in +the air; but it was cold still, and a huge fire burned in the great +drawing-room of Leyton Court. It was after dinner, and the room, though +by no means full, contained a fair number of people representing a +small house party which had been spending the Christmas with the new +earl: for the old earl had died a week after Blair and Violet Graham's +wedding, and Blair reigns in his stead. Not only is he in possession +of the old title and the estates and the large sum of money bequeathed +by the old earl, but he has married one of the wealthiest young women +in England, and consequently the world speaks of Lord Blair with bated +breath, murmuring, "Lucky beggar!" and sometimes adding, "Just in +time, too! Another month and he would have gone under, by George!" + +And so they point him out to country cousins as he walks down Pall +Mall, and whisper: "The Earl of Ferrers--the famous Lord Leyton, you +know," and his county neighbors regard him with awe not far short of +adoration, and everybody, great and small, combines to envy him. + +Some say that the long course of reckless dissipation has told upon his +constitution and the general break up, which is always and inevitably +the result of burning the candle at both ends, has arrived. And yet +those who are intimate with him have never heard him complain, and it +is notorious that there is no harder rider in the hunt, and that the +earl can out-walk, out-box, and generally out-do any man of his age and +weight, just as he has always done. There is not a stoop, not a sign of +weakness in the stalwart, well-knit figure; the face is as handsome, is +even more distinguished looking than ever; but there is a strange look +upon it, an expression of utter weariness and lassitude, a far-off, +preoccupied air which falls upon it whenever he is silent and alone. + +And he is very silent of late, and very fond of being alone. Leyton +Court is a charming place to visit, it is in very truth Liberty Hall, +and so long as a guest does not bore his host or his fellow guests, he +may do just what he pleases. And this freedom which is enjoyed by his +guests, the earl claims for himself. Sometimes days will pass without +his being seen, excepting at the dinner table, or for a few hours +afterward in the drawing-room; but while there he is a model of what a +host should be. Courteous, attentive, gentle mannered, everything but +the smiling and light-hearted Blair who is still remembered in club +land as the one man who never had the "blues!" + +If he is attentive to his guests, to his wife he seems devoted. It is +easy to gratify your wife's desires when you happen to be an earl, and +wealthy to boot, but Blair, it would appear, aims at something higher +than this--to anticipate the countess' wishes. + +"Your rake makes the best husband!" exclaims a character in one of +the old comedies, and it would really seem as if the saying were +exemplified in Blair. The countess never leaves the room, but he is at +the door to open it for her. In these days of sixteen-button gloves, +that useful animal, man, has discovered a task suited to his energies, +but no man save her husband ever buttons the countess' gloves; it is he +who assists her with her pony carriage, rides beside her in her morning +gallop, turns her music at the piano, and is ever at hand to perform +those hundred and one little offices which render a woman's life so +sweet to her. + +For the rest, Austin Ambrose is as close a friend of the countess as of +the earl, much to the surprise and annoyance of their friends, to whom +it is still a mystery what those two young people can see in him. + +It is he who assists Blair in the management of his vast estates, +interviewing tenants, engaging servants, etc. And it is he who helps +Lady Ferrers with her visiting lists, and executes all the little +offices which a lady of rank and title is so glad to find some one to +undertake. + +This evening the countess is seated in her accustomed chair, +exquisitely dressed--it is said that she takes Mr. Austin Ambrose's +advice on this point also--and playing the part of hostess with +admirable tact and judgment; but every now and then the keen observer +might see that her eyes turned toward the earl, who leaned against the +mantel, his hands folded behind him, his eyes bent on the ground, and +that look on his face which had become habitual to it. Presently the +tall, thin figure of Austin Ambrose came between her and the earl, and +sauntering up, stood beside him. + +"Blair," he said, "here are the letters." + +There was a late mail, and the special messenger brought the letters +from the office to the Court. + +Blair awoke with a little start, and took them and glanced at the +addresses indifferently. + +"One from Tyler & Driver, isn't there?" said Austin Ambrose. + +Blair nodded. + +"Yes," he said, listlessly. + +"I expect it is about the late earl's will," said Austin Ambrose. + +Blair walked into an anteroom, and dropping into a chair, threw the +letters on to a writing table. + +"See what it is they want, will you, Austin?" he said. + +Austin took the letter and opened it. + +"It's about that five thousand pounds which the earl left to----" + +Blair turned and leaned his head on his hand, so that his face was +concealed. + +"Well?" + +"They say that every effort has been made to discover Miss Hale's +whereabouts, by advertising and inquiries, and that they can find no +trace of her." + +"Ah, no!" said Blair, with a deep sigh. + +"And they give the usual advice, that the money should be funded. It is +the best plan." + +"Yes, unless we tell the truth," said Blair, in a low, sad voice. +"Sometimes I think that I have been unwise, Austin, in keeping the +story of--of my marriage and my darling's death from Lady Ferrers." + +Austin Ambrose watched him closely. + +"Take my advice, Blair, and while trouble sleeps let it sleep. The +past--that past--is dead and done with. The poor girl is dead, and lost +to human ken! Why provide the public prints with sensational paragraphs? + +"No, I could not do it, and yet, I feel that it is due to my poor dead +Margaret. I will think it over. If it should be done, if it is my duty +to do it, I will do it," he added, with mournful firmness. "See what +the other letters are about, will you, if it isn't too much trouble." + +"Not a bit; it amuses me to flatter myself I am of some use to you," +was the prompt reply, as the speaker sat down to the table. + +Blair strolled back to the drawing-room. Some one was playing, and the +vast room was filled with the music. For a moment Violet seemed left +alone, and, with the courtesy which never deserted him, Blair walked +across to her and took a chair by hers. + +"You look tired, Blair," she said. + +"Tired! Do I? I am not in the least," he replied. + +"All this bores you, does it not?" she asked, glancing round at the +company. + +"Not at all," he replied, with a smile. "Why should it? They do not +interfere with me----" + +"No, nothing is permitted to interfere with you," she broke in, with a +sudden bitterness. "So that you are left alone, you are--satisfied. Is +that not so, Blair?" + +"What do you wish me to do?" he asked, with grave earnestness. "Believe +me, Violet, you have only to express a wish----" + +"And you will gratify it. I know!" she retorted, with a laugh that +seemed hard and cold. "You are the model husband they all declare you, +Blair. No, I haven't a wish, excepting, perhaps--but it isn't worth +mentioning." + +"What is it?" He forced a laugh, and put his hand on her arm with a +caress that was gentle enough, if it had no love in it. "Our old selves +have a trick of disappearing, Violet," he said, "and once they are +gone----" he stopped significantly. "And I think most people would +admit that it is a good thing my old self cannot come back!" + +"Not I!" she said, in a low, quiet voice. "I would rather have you as +you were. Yes; I know!--with all your wildness. I would rather you were +unkind to me--struck me!--than as you are." + +He half rose, then sank back again with a troubled sigh. + +"You are wild enough for us both to-night, Violet," he said, trying to +speak lightly. "Have you been reading some of the latest romances, or +is it the professor's music that has affected you?" + +She looked at him fixedly, and the color died out from her face, +leaving it waxen pale. + +"Yes, that is it," she said; "it is the music. It always did affect +me," and she laughed. + +He looked at her anxiously. + +"Violet, this place does not suit you," he said. "You are looking pale +and ill. It is my fault; I ought to have taken you abroad. You will go, +will you not?" + +She shrugged her shoulders. + +"Oh, yes, if you like. I am perfectly indifferent. But I am quite well, +all the same." + +Some one coming up to them, he rose and surrendered the chair, as a +matter of course, and a moment or two afterward he heard her laugh as +if nothing had passed between them. + +He walked about the room for some minutes, absently looking at the +pictures, or exchanging a word with one person and another, then +sauntered into the anteroom to consult Austin Ambrose as to the best +place to take the countess, but that gentleman had left the room; and, +ascertaining from a servant that he had gone into the library, Blair +went there with the same listless step. + +As he opened the library door he heard voices and saw that Austin +Ambrose was not alone; a thin, gentlemanly man was seated opposite him, +a stranger to Blair, and he stepped back. + +"I beg your pardon; I thought you were alone, Austin," he said. + +"Don't go," said Austin Ambrose. "This is the earl, Mr. Snowdon; this +is Mr. Snowdon, the detective, Blair." + +The gentlemanly man rose and bowed respectfully, and remained standing +until Blair motioned him to resume his seat. + +"Mr. Snowdon has come to report on his inquiries respecting Miss +Margaret Hale," said Austin Ambrose, quickly but fluently, and giving +the man no chance to speak. "He simply confirms Tyler & Driver's +letter. No trace of Miss Hale can be found, unfortunately; that is so, +I think, Mr. Snowdon?" + +"Quite so," assented the detective, respectfully. + +Blair stood with his hand pressed on the table, his face white and +drawn. + +"Thank you!" he said. "Yes, yes." + +He stood silently for a moment, and then left the room without another +word. + +Austin Ambrose rose and slipped the bolt in the door. + +"You were mad to come down here!" he exclaimed in a low and angry voice. + +"I am very sorry," said the detective, humbly; "but you told me to let +you know immediately if I got a clew, and I don't like writing; there's +no knowing where a piece of paper will go to." + +"Well--well!" said Austin Ambrose. "Now tell me as quickly as you can," +and he sank into the chair with an affectation of indifference which +the close compression of his hands and the glint of his dark eyes +belied. + +The detective took a note-book from his pocket. + +"First of all, sir, I've to admit that you were right and I was wrong. +The young lady was not drowned on that rock, and you were right in +supposing that the Days had a hand in getting her away--not that I got +any information from them; I'll do them that credit. Close as wax, both +of 'em. I traced them down to Cardiff, and lodged in their house for a +fortnight; but if I'd stayed twenty years, I don't believe I'd have got +any light on the matter. If it hadn't been for an accident I'm afraid I +should still be in the dark. If it hadn't been for spending the evening +with the second mate of the Rose of Devon, I shouldn't have earned my +money, Mr. Ambrose. I've had some tough business to do for you now and +again, but this was the very toughest I ever had in hand." + +Austin Ambrose sat perfectly still, and apparently patient, but his +hands closed and unclosed with a spasmodic movement. + +"From this sailor I discovered that the Rose had picked up the Days +and a young lady one night, off the Devon coast, and an extra glass of +brandy induced him to admit that she'd sailed in the Rose to Brest. +At Brest I found that my man was correct. The Rose _did_ have a lady +on board. Two persons saw her land, and noticed her, as French people +will! One of them, the harbor master, could even give me a description +of her. There it is; you'll know best whether there can be any doubt!" + +Austin Ambrose did not snatch the paper out of his hand, but let it lie +on the table for a second or two, then he took it up and read it, and, +self-possessed as he was, could not help an exclamation of triumph. + +"It is she! She is alive! Well?" he demanded, quietly; "go on!" + +"Well, sir," said the detective, "having made certain of the young +lady's being still in the land of the living, I posted straight off for +England. Your instructions were, Mr. Ambrose, that I was to come to you +the moment I found out that she was alive. I could have traced her +from Brest easily enough----" + +"I know! I know!" interrupted Austin Ambrose. "You have carried out +my instructions! A French _mouchard_ will do the rest. She landed +there--she did not go aboard again, you say?" + +The detective hesitated for a second. As a matter of fact, he was not +certain on the point; but your detective never likes to admit that he +does not know everything, so, after the imperceptible hesitation, he +said, glibly enough: + +"No, Mr. Ambrose, she went straight on by land. She's in France, most +likely Paris--for certain. Large cities are generally chosen by people +who want to hide securely; every child knows that." + +"Yes, yes," muttered Austin Ambrose, "she is in Paris." + +He rose and took out his pocketbook. + +"I am much obliged to you, Snowdon. The matter can rest here now. +I wanted to be certain of the young lady's existence, and for the +rest, well, I dare say I can find her if I should require her, which +at present I do not. There is the sum I promised you, and there is a +bonus. You will find it in your interest to deserve my confidence; and +now make yourself scarce as quickly and quietly as possible." + +"If you will kindly open that window, sir," said the detective, +quietly, "I need not disturb any of the servants. I can find my way +across the park," and with a respectful farewell he passed out. + +Austin Ambrose stood and mused, his sharp brain turning the situation +this way and that. Then he looked up and smiled at his own face +reflected in the mirror over the mantel. + +An hour afterward he re-entered the drawing-room, with his usual placid +smile, and all his plans made. + +Lying on the couch was the countess. Her fingers were picking +restlessly at the edge of the Indian shawl, a habit she had, and as she +looked up he saw her face was pale and troubled. + +He bent over the head of the couch, murmuring softly: "Not in bed yet? +You ladies are as dissipated as we men." + +"Yes, this is dreadful dissipation, is it not?" she retorted, +ironically. + +"You look tired," he said. "Violet, I don't think this air suits +you----" + +She laughed sarcastically. + +"Really you are too transparent. Blair has been telling you I want +a change and you can't summon up courage to tell me so openly! What +cowards men are!" + +"Blair has not been speaking to me," he said. "But, all the same, I +think you should go away, both of you. He looks bored, don't you think; +rather off tone----" + +"No, I don't think--I am sure," she retorted. + +"Leyton never is very good in the winter, I believe," he said, hastily. +"What do you say to--Naples for instance?" + +"What do _you_ say?" she responded, her keen eyes seeking his fixed +steadily upon some point above her head. "That is the question, because +whatever place you say, will doubtless be the one selected. I wonder +why you take such an interest in us both?" and her eyes grew hard as +steel. "You can say that I am pining for it, that it is the one desire +of my heart, that I shall die if I'm not taken there at once----" + +"Don't jest on such a grewsome topic," he said. "Joking apart, I will +venture to prophesy that you will be happier at Naples than you have +ever been in your life. It is so warm there." + +"Even that will not be wonderful," she retorted; then suddenly her +voice changed, and she looked up at him almost fiercely. "Do you think +it will be warm enough to thaw Blair's heart? Austin, will he _never_ +forget that girl? Oh, Heaven! how I hate her." + +"Hush!" he said, in a low voice: "you forget--the dead!" + +"No," she retorted, the two bright spots burning fiercely on her +cheeks, her eyes glittering like dagger-points; "I hate her more now +she is dead, for if she had lived he would have tired of her, but now +she comes between us like a ghost; and you cannot get rid of that for +me, even you, clever as you are, Austin!" + + + + +CHAPTER XXVI. + + +A month later, the sun, which in England was shining with a sickly +affectation of geniality, was pouring a flood of warmth and light on +every house and street in Naples. Color, warmth, brightness were all +there, not in niggardly patches, but in lavish profusion, and in no +spot of the enchanted city more profuse than in the palace in which +resided the Earl and Countess of Ferrers; for to Naples they had come, +and, needless to say, Mr. Austin with them. + +But though he had prophesied that Violet should be happier there than +she had ever been, his prophecy had not yet fulfilled itself, for even +the Naples' sun could not thaw Blair's heart, and, as in England, there +was still that weary, absent expression in his face which proclaims +the man to whom life has become joyless and hopeless. + +Of all the noble palaces which the Neapolitans so cheerfully let to +the English visitors, the palace Austin Ambrose had chosen was the +most sumptuous; and if rooms which emperors might have dwelt in, and +surroundings which would have inspired a poet, could have made a woman +happy, then Violet Countess of Ferrers should have been the most +beatified of her sex. But on this glorious evening in spring, she was +lying on her couch on the balcony overlooking the bay with the same +restless fire in her eyes, the old red fever spots on her cheeks. +Leaning over the balcony was Mr. Austin Ambrose attired in a spotless +linen suit, with a cigar between his lips, and his eyes keenly noting +the passers-by in the street beneath him. + +"What are you staring at? Have you become suddenly dumb?" exclaimed +Lady Violet, with irritability. + +"I was looking at the beggars," he said, with a patience in a marked +contrast to her impatience. "Naples is the paradise of the mendicant. +Shall I wheel you nearer the balcony?--you would find them very +amusing." + +She looked over listlessly. + +"They are not amusing," she complained, shrugging her shoulders. + +"At any rate they are a study," he said. "There are beggars of every +nationality under the sun, I should think. Strange how easy it is to +distinguish them, even through their rags. There is the Neapolitan, for +instance, that old man there with the boy; and there is a Spaniard, and +there are two Frenchmen, and there is an English girl----" He stopped +suddenly, and let his cigar fall to the ground. + +"What is the matter?" she asked. + +"The matter?" he said, turning with a smile, though his face wore a +strange expression. "What do you mean?" + +"Why you start as if you had seen a ghost?" + +"Oh, come; you _are_ fanciful this evening," he retorted laughing. + +"But you did start!" she persisted, listlessly. + +"I never contradict a lady," he said lightly. "But believe me, the +movement was unconscious," and he took out his cigar-case and languidly +chose a fresh cigar; but as he did so, he leaned over the balcony, and +keenly scrutinized the crowd beneath; for that which had caused him to +start, and drop his cigar, was the form of some one who bore a strange +likeness to Lottie Belvoir. + +Mr. Austin Ambrose looked in the direction the girl had taken, but she +had disappeared, probably up one of the narrow streets, and smiling +at the fancied resemblance, he smoked on comfortably and devoted his +attention to the crowd. Presently a servant came from the room behind +them, and handed a card on a salver. + +The countess took it languidly. + +"What a nuisance people are! Did you say that we were not at home?" + +"Yes, my lady," said the footman; "but his highness wrote on the card, +my lady." + +"His highness!" exclaimed Violet contemptuously. "Every second man +one meets in Italy is a count or a prince! What is it he has written, +Austin? Your Italian is better, than mine." + +Austin Ambrose took the card. + +"This is not Italian, it is English," he said. "'Prince Rivani begs +the honor of the Earl of Ferrers' presence at a conversazione. Palace +Augustus, this evening at ten o'clock.'" + +"I thought it was understood that we did not visit?" said Violet +languidly. "Why do people bother us? Prince Rivani! This is the second +time he has left his card." + +"His highness is very attentive, at any rate," said Austin Ambrose. +"Shall you go?" + +"Seeing that I am not asked," said Violet, "it is not very probable." + +"Oh, I expect it is one of those gatherings which these Italians +delight in: a little music, a little weak lemonade, and mild tobacco. +Blair might like to go." + +"Here is Blair to answer for himself," said Violet, as Blair strode on +to the balcony. + +"What is it?" he said, looking from one to the other. + +"Only an invitation," replied Austin Ambrose. "I don't suppose you +would care for it. You will be bored to death." + +"'Prince Rivani.' He called the other day," said Blair thoughtfully, as +he leant over the balcony. "Would you care to go, Violet?" + +"I am not invited," she said impatiently. "Don't you see it mentions +you only?" + +"Ah, yes, a bachelor's party," said Blair. "I may go; it is a lovely +day. I have been on the hills, and--Ah!" he exclaimed, and he leant +over the balcony with a sudden appearance of interest. + +Austin Ambrose glided to his side. + +"What is the matter? Is it anything wonderful?" said the countess, and +she rose from the couch and looked over. + +Blair bit his lip. + +"It is nothing," he said, "I thought I saw someone I knew." + +"You are like Austin," she said, coiling herself on the couch again; +"he started and dropped his cigar just now." + +Blair walked out of her hearing, and beckoned Austin Ambrose. + +"Do you know whom it was I saw just now?" he said. + +"Couldn't guess," replied Austin. + +"It was Lottie Belvoir," said Blair. + +"Oh, nonsense; it's impossible!" said Austin Ambrose, lightly. "I tell +you she is on an English tour at this present moment. How on earth +could she be here?" + +"I do not know, but I am certain it was she," said Blair, gravely. + +"I'll soon convince you," said Austin Ambrose, and he disappeared. He +mingled with the crowd for five minutes; then he was back again. "As I +thought," he said, with a smile. "She is a Neapolitan girl with a face +rather like Lottie's." + +"Rather like!" said Blair, with a sigh of relief. "It was an +astonishing resemblance, but if you saw the girl closely it is all +right." + +But the resemblance to Lottie of the girl in rags in the streets of +Naples haunted him several times that evening, and on his way to Prince +Rivani's rooms, he found himself unconsciously scanning the faces of +the women who passed, as if he feared to see the girl. + +Of Prince Rivani he had of course heard, but he had not seen him yet, +and it was with a languid kind of curiosity that he followed the +footman into the _salon_. + +There were about fifteen or twenty gentlemen present, most of them +smoking cigarettes, and from their midst a tall, patrician-looking +figure came to meet him. + +Blair, though he had heard of the prince's popularity and his good +looks, was not prepared for so handsome a face; and he was looking at +him with interest when he was struck by the expression of the prince's +eye. It seemed as if he were regarding Blair with a scrutiny far and +away beyond that usual on the part of a host greeting a guest for the +first time. The prince's face, too, was pale, and his lips compressed +as if by some suppressed emotion. But his courtesy was perfection. + +"I am honored, Lord Ferrers," he said bowing, as he just touched +Blair's hand. "Let me introduce you to some friends of mine," and he +led Blair round the room, making him known to one and another. There +were some Englishmen there--one meets them everywhere, from Kamtchatka +to the plains of Loo!-and he got into conversation with one and another. + +Presently, just as he was thinking of taking his leave, the prince came +up to him. + +"Are you fond of art, Lord Ferrers?" he inquired, in a grave voice. + +Blair shook his head. + +"I like a good picture, but I don't know anything about it," he said. +"You have a very fine collection, have you not?" + +The prince shrugged his shoulders. + +"Not so fine as that at Leyton Court, Lord Ferrers," he said, with a +bow. "But I possess one picture which I value above all the others. I +am so attached to it that it travels about with me; it is here, in my +writing room. Would you care to see it? I think it will repay you for +your trouble." + +Blair rose at once. + +"I should like to very much," he said. + +The prince led the way to a small room on the same floor, and stood +before a picture, closely curtained. + +"You will want plenty of light," he said, turning up the gas as he +spoke, "and if you will sit just there, Lord Ferrers, you will be in +the most favorable position." + +At the same time he himself took up his stand by the curtain, with his +eyes fixed piercingly upon Blair's face. + +"Now," he said, "I want you to tell me exactly how this picture strikes +you at first sight. You shall examine it closely and criticise it +afterward. I ought to tell you that it has made the artist famous." + +As he spoke, still keeping his eyes fixed upon Blair's face, he drew +the curtain. Blair had not felt much interest in the proceedings, and +expected to see some piece of artistic trickery, and so leant back to +take it at his ease; when suddenly, as if the veil of the past had been +rent asunder, there sprung upon his sight the picture of his Margaret +lying on the rocks at Appleford; the exact representation of her death +as he had pictured it, alas! how often! + +Trembling and almost beside himself, he had forgotten the presence of +the prince, who, mute as himself, stood with folded arras regarding him +with a stern look. + +"Does the picture please you, Lord Ferrers?" he said, and there was +something ominous in his voice. + +Blair started and turned to him. + +"I--I beg your pardon. Yes, it is a marvelous picture. But there is +something connected with it; I----" he sank into the chair and covered +his face with his hands. + +The prince stood regarding him in silence for a moment; then he drew +the curtain over the picture and turned to Blair. + +"My lord, you will understand why I showed you that picture. There +need be not one word spoken between us in reference to it. Your face +has told me all I want to know; my actions will explain my motives. +Lord Ferrers will understand that if I treat him with discourtesy when +we return to the company, that I do it to provide an excuse for our +meeting to-morrow morning." + +"Our meeting?" said Blair, who had scarcely listened to, and certainly +had not understood, the prince's words. + +Prince Rivani's face grew black. + +"Lord Ferrers prefers to ruin women rather than fight with men! Ah, +yes!" + +Blair rose at once. + +"I don't understand you," he said, quietly; "but if you wish to +challenge me you need not be afraid that I shall decline. Why you +should want to shoot me I scarcely know----" + +"It is a lie!" hissed the prince, driven almost mad by what he +considered Blair's prevarication. + +"Thanks," said Blair, with a short nod. "At any rate, Prince Rivani, +you have made it clear why _I_ should shoot _you_!" + + + + +CHAPTER XXVII. + +Prince Rivani opened the door with a low bow, and the two men went back +to the _salon_. The prince was pale but perfectly self possessed, and +Blair very grave and quiet. The picture still floated before his eyes: +the great black rock and the white, wan figure still stretched upon +it, almost in the grasp of the cruel waves. His Margaret! Who could +have painted it? And the prince had said that the picture had made the +artist famous! He must find out that artist and get at the bottom of +the mystery. + +The _salon_ was fuller than when he had left it, and he went and sat +down in a quiet part of the room to wait until the prince had made some +excuse for openly giving a reason for the duel of the morrow. + +So he sat in his corner, outwardly calm and self-possessed, but +thinking a great deal more of Margaret than the duel. + +Presently Blair saw a tall, patrician man, with long hair and a beard, +and the unmistakable air of an artist, enter the room, and absently +noticed that he was instantly surrounded. He caught the name--it was +Signor Alfero, the great artist; and scraps of the conversation floated +to Blair's corner. + +Suddenly he started. They were talking of the picture; he leaned +forward and listened intently. + +"What have you done with the masterpiece, prince?" Blair heard him ask. + +"It is in my writing-room," said Prince Rivani. + +"Oh, that is a pity! You should not deprive the world of a sight of its +great treasures, _mon_ prince." + +"You still think as highly of Miss Leslie's picture, then, signor?" +asked a gentleman. + +"As highly?--more!" said the old man, turning promptly. "The more I see +of it, the greater my astonishment grows that a woman so young could +have painted a picture so old." + +"So old?" + +"Yes. We measure the age of a picture by the age of the thought it +contains. There is a lifetime of suffering, and love, and despair in +the face of the girl on that rock. Miss Leslie must have felt all +that--ay, every heart-pang of it--before she could have painted it. It +is--I repeat my verdict--a marvelous picture! She will, I trust, live +to paint many other great ones; but never one that will go straighter +to the heart than this." + +"Where is Miss Leslie now?" asked another gentleman. "One sees and +hears nothing of her." + +"Because you do not go where she goes, signor. Miss Leslie is never +seen in the promenade; you may drink your afternoon tea in all the +palaces of Naples and not meet with her. But I venture to prophesy that +if you will penetrate the slums of the city, the fever haunts, in which +our poorest of the poor are awaiting the peace bringer, Death, you will +find the great artist in their midst." + +There was silence for a moment. + +"Miss Leslie is a--philanthropist, then?" said the gentleman. + +"She is a ministering angel," responded Signor Alfero, simply. + +The prince stood by, white to the lips. + +"What time she can spare from her work--and she works as hard as any +seamstress in the city!--she spends amongst the poor. There is not a +beggar in our streets who does not know her; not a blind man whose ears +do not eagerly greet her footfall; not a sick child whose face does not +'lighten' at the sight of her smile. She is an artist--and an angel!" +and the old man's lips quivered. + +As if he could bear it no longer, the prince stood upright and +approached Blair, his face white and set with the effort to suppress +his thirst for vengeance. + +"Referring to our discussion, Lord Ferrers," he said significantly, +"are you still of opinion that we Italians have taken but a low place +in the scale of nations?" + +Blair started and looked up at him in surprise, then, understanding +that the prince was going to make pretense of a quarrel, he replied: + +"I cannot alter my opinion, even for so distinguished an Italian as +Prince Rivani." + +"That means that, as an Englishman, you regard us with contempt, my +lord?" + +Blair shrugged his shoulders. + +"Your highness is at liberty to place any construction upon my words +you please," he said. + +"Thanks, my lord. Even if I assume that you charge us with cowardice?" + +"Choose your own signification, prince," said Blair, beginning to grow +warm, though it was only pretense. + +"A nation of cowards!" said Prince Rivani, his eyes glittering at +the success of the play. "That is a brave assertion; has the Earl of +Ferrers courage to maintain it by the only consistent and appropriate +argument?" + +"I can maintain it at the sword's point, if necessary," said Blair, +rising to his full height, and meeting the prince's deadly gaze with a +steady, calm regard. + +The prince bowed low, then turning slightly to the rest, said in a low, +clear voice: + +"Gentlemen, I call you to witness that the cause of quarrel is mine! +Lord Ferrers has accused my country-men of a base and vile cowardice. +I shall have the honor of defending them. As the Earl of Ferrers says, +the argument is not one for words, but weapons! Is that so, my lord?" + +"Your highness interprets me correctly," said Blair. + +"Good! My friend, General Tralini, will have the honor of waiting upon +your lordship at a later hour." + +The prince drew him apart. + +Blair got his crush hat and cloak, and approaching the prince, bowed +low, then, with a general salutation, he left the room. + +It was a lovely night, and the air blew upon his brow refreshingly, +after the heat of the _salon_. + +He paused outside the great doorway, and stood looking up at the +sky--it was probable that it was the last time he would have the +opportunity of seeing the stars. + +Then he drew his cloak round him, and was going onward, when a woman, +who had been coming down the street with her head bent and her face +almost hidden in the thin shawl she hugged round her, stopped, and +seeing him, held out her hand, murmuring something in broken Italian. + +Blair stopped and looked at her absently; then he started, and taking +her arm, drew her near a lamp. + +"Lottie!" he said. + +She flung her hands before her face and bent her head, almost as if she +expected him to strike her. + +The gesture amazed Blair. + +"Lottie, Lottie!" he said, encouragingly; "it is you, then? I saw you +this evening in the streets, my poor girl. But why do you shrink from +me? What is the matter? Don't you know me--Blair?" + +"Yes, yes!" she gasped. "I know you. I--I----Oh, Blair, don't kill me!" + +"Kill you!" he exclaimed, with astonishment. "Why, Lottie, what is the +matter with you?" + +He took her arm as he spoke and drew it through his. + +"You look ill. Lean on me. Don't be afraid." + +She tore her arm from his and, shrinking back, leaned against the +lamp-post, the light flashing on her face and revealing it in all its +haggardness. + +"Don't!--don't!" she said, with a catch in her breath. "Don't speak a +kind word to me; I don't deserve it! Oh, Blair, if you knew all I've +done----" + +He sighed. + +"Never mind, Lottie," he said, gently; "I'm afraid we have all done +rather badly. But I'm sorry to see you looking so ill. Where are you +staying? What made you come here? Come, tell me all about it." + +"I can't! I can't!" she said, with a shudder and a fearful glance at +his grave face. "I came here with a theatrical company--I got ill, +and left behind. I wrote to _him_ and asked for help, and he only +threatened me----" + +"Him! Who?" demanded Blair soothingly, for he began to think that +illness and privation had turned poor Lottie's reason. + +She shuddered and caught her breath. + +"Austin Am----" she said, then stopped and looked up at him in sudden +terror. + +"Austin!" he exclaimed. "You wrote to Austin, and he----Oh, come, +Lottie; that can't be true! But why didn't you write to me?" + +"To you?" she breathed; "to you? Oh, Blair, Blair; if you only knew, +you'd kill me where I stand!" + +"Nonsense!" he said with gentle reproof. "Don't be silly, Lottie. Look +here, you are weak and upset, and not in a fit state to tell me your +story. Come to the palace, where I live, to-morrow, and let me hear all +about it. Here is the address," and he tore a page from his pocketbook +and wrote on it. "There it is. Now, mind you come; I shall be in all +the morning---" Then he stopped, for it suddenly flashed upon him that +probably he should be where Lottie could not follow him. "Stay!" +he said; "tell me where to find you, and I will come to-morrow--if +possible." + +"No!" she said with a shudder; "I will not! Go on and leave me, now." + +"No, I won't," he said, and his voice sounded like the old Blair's in +its hearty good-nature; "I shall stay here till you do tell me; and I +warn you that we are keeping my wife up----" + +She started and sprung back. + +"Your wife!" she gasped. "Has she--has she come back?" + +Blair turned pale, then forced a smile. + +"My wife has not left me that I know of," he said. "I married Miss +Violet Graham; you knew her, Lottie?" + +"Violet Graham!" she panted. "Violet Graham! Oh!" and she put her hand +before her eyes. + +"Yes, and she is with me here at Naples, she and Austin Ambrose," he +said. "He will be glad to see you and tell you that there is some +mistake in your idea that he had refused to help you." + +"She and he here!" she exclaimed hoarsely. "What does it mean? I can't +think! I can't see what he wanted! It is all dark--all dark! Blair!" +she exclaimed, seizing his arm. "That man--I tell you--I warn you! +Oh, Blair, Blair! Take care! He means----" She broke off and almost +groaned. "I don't know what he is working for, what he is plotting, but +it is no good--no----" She stopped again and drew her shawl round her. + +"Whom are you talking about Lottie?" he asked. "Not Austin! Why, he was +a friend of yours, and is one of the best fellows alive! My poor girl, +what 'bee have you got in your bonnet?' What do you mean?" + +"Nothing, nothing!" she said, breathlessly. "I am half mad with cold +and hunger----" + +"Yes, yes," he said, gently. "See here, Lottie; here is some money--get +food and a lodging for to-night. Go to the Hotel Nationale. I will come +to you to-morrow and you shall tell me all about it," and he held out +some English sovereigns. + +She looked up at him with a kind of wild horror, then with a cry of +remorse, a cry that rang in his ears for hours afterward, she sped +away. He threw off his cloak, and started after her, but she had gained +one of the entrances to a network of dark and narrow courts, and Blair +lost her as completely as if the pavement had opened and swallowed her +up. + +Lottie was not far off. Hidden in one of the deep doorways, she had +watched him relinquish the pursuit; then, as if compelled to follow +him, she crept out, and gained the large street again. + +As she passed the Palace Augustus, the guests of the conversazione were +coming out, and she drew back into the shadow of the doorway to let +them pass. + +They were all talking in an excited fashion, and two Englishmen, +pausing quite close to the trembling girl, were speaking loudly enough +for her to hear. + +"Rum kind of thing this affair to-night," said one. + +"Isn't it? But it's just what one expects in Italy. Gives quite a +foreign flavor to the evening," and he laughed cynically. "Fancy two +men fighting a duel on such a paltry excuse as that! Why, I didn't hear +anything particularly offensive, did you?" + +"Not half so offensive as one hears fifty times over at a political +meeting in England." + +"But then these Italians are all fire, aren't they? And glad of the +excuse for a shindy, eh?" + +"Poor Blair!" rejoined the other, with a sigh. "Seems rather hard when +you are an earl, with goodness knows how many thousands a year, and a +charming wife, to be spitted by a fire-eating Italian. But, there, we +all prophesied that Blair Leyton would come to a violent end; either a +cropper in the field, or the racecourse." + +"That's all right and consistent enough, and would appear to be the +logical conclusion of such a man; but to be pierced through the heart +with one of those confounded needles! Bah! And he is such a fine +fellow, too! Never saw a better made man! Don't wonder all the women of +his set were mad about him!" + +"Yes, Blair is a good type of our best men," said the other. "But +he may not fall: he used to fence awfully well in the old days, at +Angelo's fencing-school, don't you know." + +"I dare say, but fencing at Angelo's is a very different thing to +crossing swords with a man like Rivani, especially when he means +mischief, and if Rivani didn't mean mischief to-night, then I'm no +judge of a man's looks." + +They passed on, and left Lottie amazed in her ambush. + +Blair and Prince Rivani to fight a duel! She had been in Naples long +enough to have heard of Prince Rivani's reputation as a swordsman. +Blair was as good as a dead man when he stood opposite the prince's +gleaming steel. + +What should she do? What could she do? + +Half wild, she stood wringing her hands, her black eyes gleaming with +terror and despair, then, suddenly, worn out and exhausted by privation +and the excitement of her meeting with Blair, and this subsequent +discovery, she fell to the pavement in a deep faint. + + + + +CHAPTER XXVIII. + + +Mr. Austin Ambrose was pacing up and down, in tiger fashion, the +extremely luxurious sitting-room, waiting for Blair to return from the +Rivanis'; and Austin Ambrose was anything but tranquil and at ease. + +Hitherto fate had played into his hands so completely that he had run +his career of villainy as smoothly as a well-oiled piston-rod works in +its cylinder, but the sight of Lottie in Naples, close to his elbow, +rather upset him. + +The countess had gone to her boudoir some half an hour since; but +she had languidly dropped a few words indicating that she intended +remaining up for Blair, and Austin Ambrose listened intently now and +again to hear if Blair went straight to his or her room. + +Presently he heard a step upon the stairs; it was Blair's, but heavier +and slower than usual, and it stopped at Austin's door, and Blair +knocked. + +Austin was almost guilty of an exclamation of surprise as Blair +entered, for he handsome face looked so haggard and wearied that it +might have been the face of a haunted man. + +"You're late," he said, speaking lightly. "Had a pleasant evening, I +hope?" + +Blair sank into a chair, and his head drooped upon his breast; then he +looked up and motioned to the table, on which stood a liqueur stand. + +"Mix me something--anything, there's a good fellow," and his voice was +dry and hoarse. "A pleasant evening," he laughed grimly, "you shall +judge for yourself. Austin, I have seen Lottie Belvoir!" + +Austin Ambrose started, and he set the glass down with a little thud. +Then he smiled. + +"Not really!" + +"Yes. I was right, and you were wrong; it was she whom I saw. Poor +girl! Lottie--who used to be the brightest and gayest of them--in +Naples, starving and in rags." + +"It is very strange! The last I heard of her," said Austin, his face +pale with suppressed excitement and fear, "she was traveling with a +dramatic company. Did she tell you----" + +"She would tell me very little or nothing," said Blair with a sigh. + +Austin Ambrose drew a long breath. Lottie had stood firm, then! + +"Little or nothing. Austin," suddenly, "did she ever apply to you for +help?" + +"To me?" he exclaimed, raising his brows. "Certainly not! Why do you +ask?" + +"Because she said that she had, and you had refused to assist her. +But she was dreadfully incoherent, and I'm afraid that privation +and trouble have upset her reason. She, poor girl, seemed possessed +by some wild idea that she had injured me. She even feared that I +should--strike her! When I offered her some money, and begged her to +tell me where I could find her, she turned and bolted, and I lost her." + +Austin Ambrose drew a breath of relief and mixed himself some brandy +and water. + +"Poor Lottie, she must be half mad! Thought she had injured you! Why, +how could she do that?" + +Blair shook his head. + +"By no way that I know of. She behaved very strangely all through. She +must be found to-morrow." + +"Of course; and there's nothing easier. Don't make yourself +uncomfortable about it, my dear Blair. I will set the police on her +track at once, and we'll soon find her. But the meeting with poor +Lottie hasn't spoiled your evening, I hope?" + +Blair was silent for a moment, then he said, in a low voice: + +"No, no; it was not that, painful as it was. I wish to Heaven it was no +more! But--but--Austin, I have seen poor Margaret!" + +Austin Ambrose sprung to his feet, and his hand slid like a snake into +the bosom of his coat. + +"Seen--seen----!" he exclaimed, hoarsely. + +"Yes," said Blair, whose back was turned toward him, and who did not +see his white face and the movement of his hand; "yes, I have seen her +in a picture." + +Austin Ambrose dropped into the chair again, and lifting the glass to +his lips took a good draught. + +"In a picture, my dear Blair! You--you startled me! In a picture! A +face that resembled hers. My dear old fellow, you are too sensitive. +You must, really you must, fight against these feelings. They are +ruining your life. In a picture----" + +"Yes; not a face like hers, but her very own. I saw a picture"--and he +stood and held out his hand as if he were pointing to it--"of Margaret, +of my poor darling herself--lying on the Long Rock at Appleford!" his +voice broke, and he turned away. + +Austin Ambrose looked at him. + +"He is going mad!" he thought. + +"My dear Blair, impossible! This is the freak of a mind overwrought by +sorrow and too much dwelling on the past. It is impossible. Where did +you see this wonderful picture? I should like to see it." + +"I saw it at Prince Rivani's. You can see it, no doubt. Do you think I +am dreaming? That I have conjured the picture from my own imagination? +Do you think I am going mad?" + +Austin Ambrose certainly did think so, but he said: + +"No, no; certainly not. But--but----" + +"You do think so. Let me give you direct evidence that I know what I am +about," said Blair. "The picture is Prince Rivani's; he took me to his +private room to see it; it is the talk of all Italy, Europe, for what +I know. It is a magnificent picture, terrible, moving, to any one; but +judge what effect it must have had on me when I say that it was the +place itself, the face and figure themselves of my poor lost darling." + +Austin Ambrose stared at him. + +"And Prince Rivani showed you this! What did he tell you about it, its +history and so on?" + +"Nothing," said Blair, gloomily. "I was so startled that I was almost +beside myself, and I was about to ask him the history of the picture, +and by whom it was painted, when he--you will think I am mad now, +Austin!--refused to tell me anything excepting that the picture was a +famous one. And he brought the interview to an abrupt conclusion by +challenging me to fight him----" + +Austin Ambrose's face worked. + +"Which you refused?" he said. + +"For which I asked his reasons. He declined to give me any one, calling +me a liar, and so----" he laughed, grimly--"provided me with an excuse +for shooting him!" + +"Well, and--and the artist, who is he?" + +"It was not a man, but a woman--a girl," said Blair quietly and wearily. + +Austin Ambrose started, and his eyes flashed. He saw it all in a +moment. The picture had been painted by Margaret herself! The prince +had fallen in love with her, she had told him her story, and the prince +meant to avenge her. + +"And--and this girl--this wonderful artist--where is she?" + +He asked the question lightly enough, but his soul quaked as as Blair +replied: + +"Here, in Naples!" + +"Here, in Naples?" + +There was a moment's silence. Margaret here in Naples! Blair +challenged by the prince! Any moment and his astute plans might be +shattered at his feet. + +He was not altogether a coward, but at the thought of the two narrow +chances Blair had had of learning his--Austin's--villainy, he quivered +from head to foot. + +"And now you have it all," said Blair quietly. "Why Prince Rivani +should want to fight me I cannot conceive, can you?" + +"Yes," was the prompt reply. + +Blair turned to him with weary surprise. + +"The prince was an old lover of Margaret's." + +The blood rushed to Blair's face, and his eyes flashed. + +"An old lover? It is you who are mad! Margaret had no lover but me." + +Austin Ambrose met his fierce gaze steadily. + +"My dear Blair, I meant no kind of reproach against her! But think, is +it not possible that the prince may have seen her before she met you? +that, though nothing tangible may have passed between them, he may have +fallen in love with her?" + +"And she not tell me! Ah, how little you knew her!" + +"She may not have thought it worth the telling! May have feared that +you might think she was boasting of her conquest over a prince. But if +you won't entertain this idea, what other reason can you find for his +wanting to fight you? You know what these Italians are: they will fight +for an idea--half a one! He may have got some inkling that you were her +favored lover, he cannot possibly know that you married her, but he +may see in you a rival, and these Italians consider it their duty to +dispose of a rival in the most complete and expeditious way." + +Blair leaned his head upon his hands. + +"It is all a mystery," he said, wearily. "But the fact remains. I have +undertaken to meet him to-morrow morning. You will be my second, of +course, Austin? A General Somebody or other will call and make the +arrangements presently." + +Austin Ambrose got up and went to the window and rapidly mastered the +situation. After all, Fate was working for him to the end! If the +Prince Rivani would kindly kill Blair how easily the _denouement_ would +work out! + +"I don't like this!" he said gloomily. "I am not thinking of myself, +nor so much of you--for you are good at sword or pistol--but I am +thinking of Vio----of the countess." + +"Ah, yes!" said Blair with a sigh. "Poor Violet! And yet, after +all----" he stopped, but the pause was significant. "I think I must go +to the library, Austin," he said after a moment or two. "I have a few +letters to write and papers to arrange. I may fall, you know." + +"Oh, nonsense!" said Austin Ambrose. "Fall! You may be wounded in the +arm, that's just possible----" + +Blair laughed grimly. + +"If the prince wounds me anywhere it will be through the heart," he +said quietly. "He means business, and I shall not balk him. At any +rate, I'll have a fight for my life," and with a laugh on his lips he +went out of the room. + +Austin Ambrose walked to the window and looked out at the night, +letting the cold air blow upon his forehead. A fever seemed burning +in all his veins. All this had fallen so suddenly that there seemed +scarcely time to think: and he had to _act_, and at once. + +He poured out some brandy and drank it slowly; then, after a glance +at his face in the mirror, he forced it into its accustomed smooth +serenity, and going along the corridor, knocked softly at the countess' +boudoir. + +She was seated in a low chair beside the fire, her head thrown back, +her hands lying listlessly by her side; but she turned with an eager +light in her eyes, that died out when she saw who it was. + +"Oh, it is you; I thought it was Blair," she said. "Where is he?--not +back yet?" + +Austin Ambrose bit his lip, and a savage light shot into his eyes. + +"Always Blair!" he said softly. "No; he is not in yet." + +"And why do you come here at this unearthly hour?" she demanded, +pettishly. + +"Violet, I have come to answer a question you have often asked me, and +I have often parried. I have come to demand of you the reward you have +promised me for the services I have rendered you." + +She looked up at him in silent astonishment + +"Question--reward! What are you talking about? Why do you look so +strange?" + +"Do I look strange? Forgive me. It is the only time I have allowed my +countenance to incommode you. Have you forgotten--is it necessary to +remind you of your promise? Is it necessary to remind you for what that +promise was given? Ah, yes, I suppose so. Men and women have short +memories. Violet, have you forgotten the day I undertook that you +should be Blair's wife?" + +Her face paled, but she laughed. + +"How melodramatic you are. Of course. I was a poor little woman who set +her heart upon something, and you were the clever man who offered to +help me. Pray do not look so serious." + +"I cannot help my looks to-night," he said, quietly, "for to-night +you and I stand face to face, soul to soul. Violet, you had set your +heart upon gaining Blair, and I have got him for you. You promised me +at the time that you would give me whatsoever I should ask, and I told +you that some day I should come to claim my reward at your hands. I +have come. I will not tell you all I have done for you. You may have +conjectured how dark and vile the work has been--no matter. I have +succeeded; you have been Blair's wife through my agency. I come to +claim my reward!" + +She bit her lip and tried to smile. + +"Well, well, what is it? It is awfully late, why not wait until +to-morrow? Blair may come in at any moment, and though there is no +impropriety in our chatting in my own room, still--what is it? Is it +money? Are you in difficulties? How much is it?" + +"It is not money," he said gravely. + +"What, then?" she said, impatiently. + +"It is yourself!" he said, his eyes flashing into hers, his pale cheeks +suddenly glowing with fire. + + + + +CHAPTER XXIX. + + +"It is yourself I want," said Austin Ambrose. + +Violet looked at him for a moment as if she had not understood the +purport of his words, then she raised herself on her elbow, and laughed. + +"_What_ do you say? Is this a jest? If so, it is in rather bad taste, +don't you think?" + +He looked at her steadily. + +"Have I the appearance of a man who jests?" he breathed. + +Her face paled. + +"If it isn't a jest, what is it?" she demanded, querulously. "Why do +you come at this time of night and say absurd things like--like that?" + +"Is it so absurd, do you think? Consider. Violet, have you been +dreaming all these months? You should know me well enough to feel that +I am not a mere straw to be idly blown hither and thither, not a man +likely to waste his life doing service for no requital. Let me take +you back to the past. Do you remember the days and months and years I +waited on you like a slave? Do you think it was done for nothing, with +no hope of reward?" + +His eyes shone with fierce determination, his whole manner proclaimed +eloquently the dominant idea which had actuated him through the past, +which was now so near its fulfillment. + +"I never deceived you. Think! remember! Is it so hard to go back? I +suppose it must be so! You are now the Countess of Ferrers, Blair's +wife; you have obtained all you craved for, and, like all those who +rise upon the shoulders or the hearts of some faithful friend and +slave, you forget the aid by which alone you rose!" + +He drew a little nearer, and stood upright before her, his face made +almost handsome by the intensity of its expression. + +"Violet, do you remember the day I knelt at your feet and poured out +the love with which my heart was burning? I was no schoolboy, nor mere +fortune-hunter. I loved you with an all-absorbing passion; I should +have loved you if you had been a poor girl selling flowers in the +streets, and I would have knelt to you if you had been such an one as +humbly as I knelt to Violet Graham, the wealthy heiress, with all the +world at her beck and nod! And you!--how did you treat me? Look back! +You scarcely deigned to listen, and when at last you consented to waste +a few minutes in listening to my prayer--ah! and what a prayer it was; +the cry of a man begging for his life!--you answered me with a few +half-contemptuous words, a smile wholly scornful, and a haughty request +that I would never again so far forget myself. Forget myself! Violet, +as I left you that day, I swore that if I lived I would win you; that +every gift nature had given me, every talent I could acquire, should be +pressed into the service of my oath, and that sooner or later I would +come to you--not kneeling, as the humble suppliant, the slave craving +for a boon at the hand of a tyrant, but as one having the power to +command and exact that which he wanted." + +"You--you must be mad, Austin!" she murmured, struggling with the +terror his words produced on her. + +"Wait!" he said, with the same deadly intentness. "Wait, as I waited! I +knew that you had set your heart upon marrying Blair. Blair was in my +hands. He trusted me implicitly; through him I thought that I might, +perchance, gain a hold upon you. For days, through sleepless nights, +I set myself to find some way of trapping you, some net which should +catch and hold you fast. I knew that I could bring Blair to your feet +sooner or later, but that was not enough, for, by doing so, I should +lose you altogether. Violet, they talk of fate. If there be such a +thing, then Fate took pity on me and worked on my side. It was Fate +more than I, myself, which weaved the plot whereby I stand to-night +before you as a victor, not kneeling, as I once knelt, your slave!" + +He paused and smiled down at her, with the air of a man confident of +his victim. + +"You are tired, and it is time you got some rest. We start from here +by five o'clock this morning. I will have a carriage waiting by the +cathedral--but I need not trouble you with the arrangements. All that +you have to do is to be ready; and I have no fear that you will disobey +me." + +She rose and looked at him with a flushed face and scornful eyes. + +"Austin, you have been drinking," she said. + +He started, but instantly recovered himself and shook his head slowly. + +"It is the most charitable conjecture I can form," she said. "You have +either taken too much wine, or you have lost your reason. I admit that +I am indebted to you, but I will find some means of discharging that +debt. I am rich--don't be offended--and an ambitious man like yourself +needs money. You shall have what you require; more, Blair shall exert +all his influence and send you to Parliament--you will shine there, and +may rise to any height you like. But, mind, I will do nothing if you do +not go at once, and promise me never to come near me again. If you will +not promise--why, then I will place the matter in my husband's hands." +She paused. + +"Have you finished?" he asked calmly, almost gently. + +"Yes," she said, "only I may add that I think you know my threat is no +idle one. Blair will know how to avenge an insult paid to his wife!" + +His face grew hard, and his eyes dark with a flash of hate and anger. + +"An insult paid to his wife! Yes! But one paid to Miss Violet Graham is +another matter!" + +"What do you mean?" she demanded, scornfully. "I am not Violet Graham, +I am his wife." + +"You are Violet Graham, but you are not Blair's wife; you are not the +Countess of Ferrers, my dear!" + +She looked at him, the blood rushing to her face at the contemptuous +familiarity of the last two words. + +"Leave the room, sir!" she exclaimed, raising her hand and pointing +to the door. "You have abused my patience; go, or you will indeed +compel me to forget your 'services,' and make it necessary that my paid +servants should use force!" + +He laughed softly, and his eyes glowed with admiration. + +"Violet, I swear that every instant you make me love you more +passionately! I see you think I lied when I said you were not Blair's +wife, is it not so?" + +"I know that you lied!" she retorted, as calmly as she could. + +"How little you know me," he said, gravely. "Do you think I am so great +a fool as to make such an assertion for the mere sake of making it?" + +"If I am not Blair's wife, who is?" she demanded, as if humoring him. + +"Come," he said, with a smile; "that is better, because it is more +practical and business-like. Continue this tone, my dear Violet, and +we shall speedily arrive at an understanding. You want to know who is +Blair's wife? Certainly. It is a young lady who was Margaret Hale, but +who became the Viscountess of Leyton and Countess of Ferrers." + +She started, but it was only at the sound of Margaret's name. + +"Margaret Hale! The girl----" + +"Exactly. The girl he fell in love with at Leyton Court. What an +excellent memory you find when you need it." + +"And you say he married her? Oh, spare your breath!" she broke off, +with a contemptuous gesture. + +"Thanks; I will," he said. "Permit me to give you ocular proof. Here is +the certificate of the ceremony; not a copy, please to observe: not a +mere copy, but the original itself. The ceremony, as you will see, was +performed at a charming old church, in a rural and secluded spot called +Sefton. The date is set forth in plain figures, together with all the +particulars even the most exacting lawyer could require." + +She took the certificate, very much as poor Margaret had taken the +false one from Lottie Belvoir, and looked at it with dazed eyes, then +she crushed it in her hand, and looked up at him as a dumb animal looks +up at the man who has struck it. + +"Married to her!--married to her!" she murmured; "and he did not tell +me!" A spasm of jealousy shot through her. "Then she was his wife?" + +"She was, most certainly," he assented, watching her. + +"But what has that to do with you and your plot?" she demanded, raising +herself after a moment and facing him contemptuously. "This--this +marriage is a matter between me and Blair. This certificate is not a +forgery--I believe that." + +He looked at her steadily. + +"Thanks. You do me that credit, and safely. Of one thing you may be +convinced, Violet, and that is, that I will not speak one false word to +you to-night. By truth, and truth alone, I will win you. Do not doubt +any one thing I tell you, for I swear that it is true!" + +"I--I believe you," she said, almost involuntarily. "I believe this +marriage took place, but what of it? The girl is dead. I am Blair's +wife, and the offer"--she shuddered again--"the vile offer you made he +will protect me from." + +"Blair is not your husband, for Margaret Hale, the Countess of Ferrers, +is alive!" he said. + +He did not thunder it at her, nor hiss it as the serpent he resembled +might have done; but he spoke the words almost gently and with a serene +and complacent calmness. + +She sprung to her feet and confronted him. + +"What? Stop----" and her hands went out toward him as if to shut from +her senses any further words of his. + +"I must go on," he said. "It is true. Margaret Hale is alive. Do you +doubt me? Look in my face," and he drew a step nearer. + +She looked at him with all her anguished soul in her eyes, then she +shrank back. + +"She is here, here in Naples. An hour hence, any moment, they may meet, +Blair and she, and he will recognize her. Do you think that, after +that, you have much chance of remaining as the wife of the Earl of +Ferrers? You know best whether his heart has forgotten his allegiance +to his first wife, his real wife, his present wife; for you are nothing +whatever to him, remember. You are not the Countess of Ferrers, but +simply--Miss Violet Graham!" + +She sat staring at him, her hand clinched on the certificate. + +"Why--why did she leave him? Does he know that she is alive?" she said +hoarsely. + +He laughed, and drawing a chair nearer, sat astride it and facing her. + +"No, he thinks her dead," he said. "I see, you will not be satisfied +until I tell you the whole of my little plot! Listen, then," and with +his eyes fixed upon her watchingly, he told the story of the elaborate +scheme which, helped by Fate, he had built up; of Lottie Belvoir's +deception, and of Margaret's supposed death. + +"And you did all this? You--you must be more devil than man!" + +He smiled. + +"I can claim to be a man who has devoted all his talents, and all his +energies, to the attainment of one object. You call me names! Bah! my +dear Violet, have you forgotten that evening in Park Lane, when I told +you she was dead, and you thought I had murdered her? You did not call +me rude names then, I think!" + +She shuddered, and hid her face in her hands. When she lifted it, it +was as drawn as if she had risen from a long and wasting illness. + +"It is true! It is true!" she moaned, hoarsely; "and now you want me +to----" She could not go on, but her lips moved. + +"I want you to keep your promise, that is all, my dear Violet," he +said, coolly. + +"And if I refuse?" + +"You will not refuse," he said, quietly. "You dare not! If you are not +ready to accompany me at five o'clock I shall go to Blair, and tell him +all that I have told you. + +"Come, Violet; you must know that it is of little avail to oppose me, +much less to argue. Face the inevitable. You used to be a brave woman +once, summon up some courage now. Consider, after all, what can you +do better than fly with me? In an hour or two, at any moment, as I +say, Blair and the countess will meet, the truth will be known, and +you--what will you be? Nothing--worse than nothing! The law cannot give +you redress, for Blair believed her dead; but none the less you will +be--an outcast!" + +She writhed and tore at the pillows in a frenzy of despair. + +"Oh, please!" he murmured, reproachfully. "Is this the same woman who +bade me separate Blair and Margaret Hale at any cost?--_at any cost_? +Come, pluck up a little spirit. What must be, must be; and it is +certain that you will have to yield to me." + +"He can but kill me!" she moaned, desperately. + +Austin Ambrose laughed. + +"Nonsense! Blair will do nothing of the kind. He will simply repudiate +you, and with many apologies, show you the door. But really it would be +more merciful to kill you outright, than to leave you the butt of the +whole of London! The great heiress, Violet Graham, wrongfully married +to Blair Leyton, and discarded for his first and lawful wife!" and he +laughed. + +She put up her hand to silence him; and, his mood changing, he caught +the hand and fell on his knees at her side. + +"Forgive me, Violet! Do you not see that I am only seeming hard and +cruel? Do you think that my heart does not bleed for you? But what can +I do? You force me to tell you the truth in all its nakedness; for I +know that if I do not convince you that you have no other alternative, +you will not yield! Do not force me to say any more; accept the +inevitable. Say the word; give me your promise to be ready at the time +I have named, and I will take you with me----" + +"Never! never!" she said, hoarsely, and endeavoring to draw her hand +from his grasp. + +"What do you fear? Why do you shrink from me? Do you think that I do +not love you? What stronger proof do you want than that I have given +you? Have I not done more to win you than one man in a million does +for the woman he wants? If it had been murder itself I would not have +hesitated, I would not hesitate now! Ah, Violet! think of me a little. +I, too, have suffered, suffered the tortures of the damned, for it was +my hand that gave you--for a time--to him! I have stood by and seen you +the wife of another, the man I hate----" + +"Hate!--you hate him?" she re-echoed. + +"Yes," he said, a lurid light shining in his eyes. "I always hated him +because you loved him! Many and many a time I have longed to see him +dead at my feet--but no more of that! What does it matter? It is only +of my love for you that I wish to think or speak. Trust yourself to my +love, the deepest and truest man ever felt. I will marry you when and +where you please; I will spend the remainder of my life in devotion +to you; I will----" he stopped breathless, and carried away by his +passion, he threw his arms about her. + +She struggled from his embrace, and even struck at him. + +"Go with _you_!" she gasped. "Leave him for _you_?" and she laughed +wildly. "I would rather die!" + +"Very good. I may take that as your decision? In half an hour I take +Blair to his wife; in half an hour I will tell him how he came to lose +her, and that it was you--Violet Graham--who tempted and prompted me to +carry out the plot which has nearly wrecked his life. And then I leave +you to face him." + +He took one step from her, but she sprung up and throwing herself at +his feet clutched at his arm. + +"No, no! Give me time! Wait, Austin! Only wait! I--I did not mean to be +hard. I--I--oh, have pity on me!" and she turned her white face up to +him. "Have pity on me! I was only a woman, and I--I did love him so! +Yes, I know it was I who tempted you, but I did not know that you cared +for me as--as you say you do, and--oh, Austin, look at me kneeling to +you for more than life--ah, for life itself! Do not betray me! I will +do anything----" + +"Anything but the one thing I want," he said, coldly. "You would offer +me money, anything. Money! If you had all the wealth of the Rothschilds +and offered it to me to forego the reward I have worked for, I would +say 'no!' No, if I cannot have you, for whom I have plotted and +planned, I will at least have revenge. You cannot rob me of that. Let +go my hand and leave me free to join the early parted husband and wife." + +"No!" she wailed, clinging to him. "Stay, Austin, I will--I will +consent!" + +He stooped down and looked at her face. + +"Say that again," he said, eagerly. "You will consent? You will go with +me?" + +She rose, and with both hands pushed her disordered hair from her white +face. Then, looking at him steadily: + +"Yes, I will go with you." + +"You--you will? Oh, my darling!" and he made to take her in his arms, +but she put out her hands and kept him off. + +"Yes," she said in a low, dull voice, "I will go with you. I see it is +useless to fight against you." + +"It is, it is!" he assented, intently. "And you will come to the +cathedral----" + +"No," she said, like one repeating a lesson; "come to me here at five +o'clock. I--I am not strong enough to go out. Come at five o'clock, +and--I will be ready." + +He knelt on one knee, and taking her hand, pressed it to his lips. + +"Violet, you know that I can keep an oath. I have proved it, have I +not? Then hear me swear that you shall never regret your resolution. +I will wipe out the past, I will surround you with a love that shall +cause you to forget all that has happened, and that, that--must make +you happy! At five! Go now and lie down, dearest! You will need all +your strength, for the journey must be a long and a swift one. A few +hours and we shall be beyond the reach of pursuit! And then--ah, then, +your new life will commence! A life which my love shall make one dream +of happiness! Go, dearest! At five! Remember!" + +He led her to the door; she drew her hand from his hot, burning +fingers, and pressed it on her forehead, then as she opened the door +she turned and looked at him--a steady, resolute look. + +"I will remember," she said. "I will be ready when you come!" + + + + +CHAPTER XXX. + + +Ten minutes after Lottie fell senseless beside the stone steps of the +Palace Augustus, a slight, girlish figure came quickly down the street. +It was dressed in black, the only spot of relief being the fur lining +of the hood which almost concealed her face. Though she was quite +alone, she walked with a fearless and confident bearing, like one whose +safety was insured. As she came near the gateway of the palace, a man, +bearing the unmistakable signs of a footpad, approached her stealthily, +but after a glance at the half-shrouded face, he made a bow, and +spreading out his hands toward her, with respectful and almost awed +deprecation, stood aside to let her pass. + +Margaret, for she it was, returned the salutation with a gentle +inclination of her head, and went on her way. + +As she walked along in the starlight, a strange feeling of +peacefulness, that for all its serenity had something of elation in it, +pervaded her. She had just come from visiting a child down with the +fever, which is as characteristic of Naples as its bay, or its volcano, +and the blessings which the mother of the little one had called down +upon Margaret's head, seemed to have borne fruit. + +To-night, as she looked up at the stars, she could bring herself to +think of Blair with a feeling of forgiveness and tenderness which she +had not, as yet, been capable of. + +In this life he could never be her own again, never; but perhaps in +that mysterious after-life toward which they were all drifting, he +would, in some way, come back to her. That he had loved her, even +while sinning against her, she felt convinced; and to-night, as she +walked through the silent streets, his face came before her, and his +voice rose in her memory with a strange distinctness. In fancy she +was back again at Leyton Court and at Appleford, and a reflection of +these times, in all their glorious coloring of happiness, fell upon her +spirit in the dark street, and illuminated it with a curious sadness +that had a tinge of joy in it. + +"Oh, Blair, my love, my love!" she murmured, looking up at the stars, +very much as he had done about an hour before, "we shall never meet +again here on earth, but who knows what may await us up there?" + +As she lowered her eyes with a gentle sigh, she saw the figure of +Lottie huddled up in a scarcely distinguishable mass beside the doorway +of the Augustus Palace; she stopped immediately, and kneeling beside +the unconscious girl, spoke to her gently. At first she thought that +the girl was dead, but she detected a faint movement of the heart, +and raising her head upon her knee, she moistened her lips with some +eau-de-Cologne. + +The light was so dim that she did not recognize her, and she was +loosening the worn shawl and chafing the thin hands that hung limply at +her side, when a man and woman came down the street. + +Margaret beckoned to them. After a glance, they were keeping on their +way; but she called to them, and hearing her voice their manner +changed, and they hurried forward. + +"A poor girl who has fallen in a swoon," explained Margaret. + +"Looks like dead, signorina," said the man, shrugging his shoulders +Italian fashion. "Best fetch the police: dead people give trouble to +the most innocent." + +"Oh, no, no; she is not dead, indeed!" said Margaret, earnestly. + +"That's not what you said when the signorina nursed you through the +ague, ungrateful pig!" exclaimed the man's wife, with charming candor. +"What shall we do, lady?" + +"If I could get her somewhere out of the street," said Margaret, +anxiously. "I think she has fainted from hunger." + +"Like enough," said the man. "It's a most popular complaint, lady!" + +"I'll take her to our rooms, signorina," said the woman promptly. "Lift +her, Tonelli!" + +The husband obeyed with half sullen resignation, and the pair carried +Lottie to a house in one of the small streets. They laid her on the +bed; and Margaret, after dispatching the man to her house for wine and +food, and setting the woman to light a fire, threw her fur cloak over +the girl, and then, and not till then, carried a light close to her. + +As she did so the lamp nearly fell to the ground, for she recognized in +the girl she had rescued, the woman who had dealt her the blow that had +wrecked her life. There, lying motionless and senseless, was Blair's +real wife! + +She set the lamp down and staggered back to a chair. + +"The signorina is tired and ill!" exclaimed the woman of the house, +gazing at her sympathetically. "Will not the signorina leave the girl +to my care, and go home to rest? You wear yourself out for the poor, +lady!" + +"No, no!" said Margaret, fighting against the weakness which threatened +to master her. "It--it is only a little faintness. Is the fire all +right? Yes? Then will you go down and warm some of the wine Tonelli +will bring, and bring it up to me?" + +The woman left the room, and Margaret once more bent over the +unconscious Lottie. + +Yes, it was the same woman! But how came she to be lying in the streets +of Naples, in rags, and evidently half-famished? Had Blair deserted her +again? + +All the while she was pondering she was using means to bring warmth and +life back, and presently the woman of the house came up with the hot +wine. + +Margaret succeeded in getting some through the white lips, and after +awhile Lottie opened her eyes. They rested upon the lovely face for +some seconds vacantly, but presently a gleam of intelligence shot +across them, and she tried to raise herself upon her elbow, staring +wildly at what she took to be a vision. + +"Do not move," said Margaret, softly. "You are weak and ill. Drink some +of this wine." + +Lottie took the cup and drained it feverishly. + +"Give me some more," she gasped. "Give me anything to wake me from this +dream. Do you hear? Wake me, or I shall go mad! I tell you I can see +her standing there in front of me!" and she pointed to Margaret wildly. +"I've often fancied I've seen her, but never so plainly as now. Wake +me! for Heaven's sake, wake me!" + +"Try and keep quiet," said Margaret, soothingly; but at the sound of +her voice Lottie only grew more excited. + +"There! I can hear her speaking! What is it she says? I know I did it! +I plead guilty, my lord! But it was not me only. Where is _he_? Where +is Austin Ambrose? He is worse than I am, my lord. Send me to prison, +if you like, but don't let him go scot-free. He is worse than I am! It +was he who put me up to it--and now he leaves me to starve! Yes, he +did! He threatened me, told me that he'd have me charged, and that he'd +swear he knew nothing about it. Where is Austin Ambrose? He is worse +than I am, my lord!" + +Then she sank down, as if exhausted; but presently she started up with +a cry of terror and clutched at Margaret's arm. + +"Blair! Blair!" she shrieked, and at the name poor Margaret winced and +could scarcely suppress a cry. "Blair will be killed! I heard them say +so! Quick! Find him--stop the fight! The prince will kill him! Blair +is no match for him--I heard them say so. Oh, for the love of Heaven, +don't stand there doing nothing, but find them and stop them!" + +The woman of the house crept to the bed, and looking down curiously +shrugged her shoulders. + +"She is English, lady, is she not? She is in the fever and raves; is it +not so? What is it she says?" + +"I--I am afraid she is delirious," said Margaret, scarcely knowing what +she answered. "Will you go for the English doctor and beg him to come +to me at once?" + +Lottie caught the word doctor, and raising herself on her elbow, held +out her hand imploringly. + +"Oh, never mind me!" she panted. "What does it matter about me? It's +Blair--Blair you must save! Don't you believe me? I tell you I heard +them talking about it before I fell--where was it?" and she put her +hand to her head and sank back with a groan. + +Margaret sat beside the bed, with one of the girl's wasted, burning +hands held tightly in her own. + +She could not think--the meeting was too strange and mysterious to +permit of her doing that--but she sat in a kind of dull stupor, even +after the doctor had come and gone again. + +The night passed away, and morning dawned, and with the first streak in +the east Lottie awoke. + +That she was no longer delirious was evident by her eyes, but she +turned pale and started, as they fell upon Margaret. + +"It was no dream, then!" she said, in a low voice, covering her face +with her hands. "It was really you who sat beside me?" + +"Yes, it was I," said Margaret, sadly and shyly, for it Came flashing +upon her that this woman, after all, was Blair's wife. "I am glad you +are better. I will go now," and she rose, a little stiffly. + +Lottie put out her hand. + +"No--stay," she said, with a frightened, nervous glance. "I--I have +something to tell you! Oh, if I only knew how! Don't be angry with me +more than you can help. Punish me if you like, but don't say much to +me. I've done the cruellest thing that ever one woman did to another, +and I deserve to be shot----" At the word she started up, and flung out +her arms. "What is the time? is it morning? Not morning! Do not tell me +that! Oh, great Heaven, how long have I been lying here? Oh, too late, +too late!" and she rocked herself to and fro. + +"Why are you too late, and for what?" + +"To save him! To save Blair! Didn't I tell you? It seems to me that I +have been raving about it for hours! He and the Prince Rivani are to +fight this morning. This morning! It is light now!" + +"Blair--Lord Leyton; your--your husband!" said Margaret, holding on to +the bed to support herself. + +"My husband!" Lottie almost shrieked; then she laughed wildly and +hysterically. "No! not my husband, _but yours_!" + +"Mine!" said Margaret, her eyes fixed on the flushed face and desperate +black eyes. + +"Yes; yours, yours, yours!" cried Lottie. "Oh, can't you understand? +No! You are so good and true, that you cannot believe there are such +fiends in the world as me and Austin Ambrose!" + +"Austin Ambrose!" was all Margaret could falter. + +"Austin Ambrose! The cruellest, cleverest scoundrel on earth!" cried +Lottie, tearing at her clothes and flinging them on as she spoke. "It +was he who tempted me to go down to that place in Devonshire, and pass +myself off as Blair's wife----" + +"Pass yourself off as----Then--then you are not his wife?" + +"No, and never was!" cried Lottie. + +"Then----Oh, stop!--give me a minute! No!--don't touch me! I'm not +going to faint!" for Lottie had sprung forward to catch her. "I will +not faint; only give me a minute. I am Blair's wife!--Blair's wife! Say +it again!" and the poor soul, white and red by turns, held up her hands +to the wickedly weak and erring Lottie. + +"I'll say it a thousand times; I'll beg your forgiveness on my knees; +I'll do anything to atone for what I've done--but not now!" she +exclaimed fiercely. "For while we are talking here, murder's being +done; for it is murder to pit a man against Prince Rivani, and that's +what they have done with Blair--Lord Ferrers, I mean!" + +"Ah!" Margaret caught her breath, and pressed her hand to her heart for +a moment; then she snatched up her cloak and flung it round her, and +sprung to the door. + +Lottie had just succeeded in getting on her ragged clothing, and put +out a hand, humbly and imploringly, to stop her. + +"Where are you going?" she asked. + +Margaret put her hand away with simple dignity, and, looking at her, +replied: + +"To save _my husband_!" + + * * * * * + +Mr. Austin Ambrose left the boudoir a happier man than he had ever been +before during the whole course of his life. + +There is a keener joy in the anticipation of success and victory which +the actual success and victory themselves cannot produce. In his mind's +eye he saw himself--as he had pictured to Violet--lying at her feet in +some sunny, vine-clad villa in Spain. Those two by themselves, with +no one to share or dispute his claim to her! With Blair either dead +of Prince Rivani's rapier thrust, or away in England with Margaret! +Yes, success had come to him at last. Not only would he have won the +woman he loved with a passion which he had nourished and fostered and +secretly fed during all those long and bitter months, but he would +have secured wealth as well, for he had not managed Blair's estate for +Blair's benefit alone, but had contrived to feather his own nest pretty +considerably; besides, Violet still held her own money, and it would +now become his! + +He was so filled with the ecstasy of anticipation that he could have +stopped on the great staircase, and raised the house with his exultant +laughter, had there not been still something to do before he could +admit that all was ready. + +Always looking forward to this supreme moment, he had arranged with one +of the drivers of the pair-horse carriages to expect a summons from +him, and, slipping on a cloak, he went out to the corner of the street +and gave the man his instructions. He was to wait at the corner of the +cathedral until he, Austin Ambrose, arrived with a lady. The man was +then to drive to the station as if for his life, and regardless of +anything. Then he returned to the palace, and hastily packed a small +portmanteau. He had scarcely finished it when Blair's valet knocked at +the door, with General Trelani's card. + +Austin Ambrose slipped on a dressing gown over the traveling suit, for +which he had exchanged his other clothes, and received the general with +calm serenity and dignity. + +"You expected me, doubtless, and I will not detain you with apologies +for the lateness of the hour," said the general, a stiff and +soldier-like old man, to whom duels were very ordinary matters indeed. +"I may add that my principal, Prince Rivani, will not accept an +apology." + +Austin Ambrose bowed. + +"The Earl of Ferrers has no intention of offering one," he said, +quietly. + +The general inclined his head. + +"As the person challenged, the earl has the choice of weapons," he said. + +"Though, like most Englishmen, I am unfamiliar with the etiquette of +the duello, I am aware of that. Lord Ferrers chooses swords." + +The general looked rather surprised. + +"Indeed! In honor, I am compelled to remind you, sir, that his highness +is skilled with the rapier; if pistols would be considered more +fair----" + +"Thanks, general, but the earl has made his choice." + +"Then nothing remains to settle but the hour and place," said the +general, suavely. + +"Will half-past five be too early?" asked Austin Ambrose. + +"No hour will be too early for us, sir," said the general, blandly, +"and I would recommend the field behind the hospital. It is quiet and +secluded at that hour----" + +Austin Ambrose assented, and the general looked at his watch. + +"My mission is finished, sir," he said. "Pray convey my devoted +respects to the earl." + +Austin Ambrose bowed him out, and then returned to his room and +completed his preparations. He sat down and wrote a short note. + +"The meeting is for half-past five in the field behind the hospital. +Do not wait for me. I have gone into the town and will join you to the +minute." + +He rang the bell and gave the note to Blair's valet, then locking the +door, flung himself on the bed and closed his eyes, trying to force +himself to sleep, but the effort failed for a time. + +His acute brain was still at work picturing the incidents as he +imagined them. At half-past five he and Violet would be speeding over +the frontier. Blair would go to meet Prince Rivani; they would wait +a quarter of an hour, half, perhaps; and then, the prince growing +impatient, the general would offer to act as second for Blair; the two +men would fight, and there would be no doubt as to which would fall. +With pistols, Blair, who was a good shot, would stand something of a +chance; but with swords, Rivani, whose skill was proverbial, must win. +With his eyes closed he could see Blair lying stretched out upon the +ground, with a thin streak of crimson creeping snake-like across the +breast of his shirt, and at the vision a fiendish smile of satisfaction +curved his lips. + +Then he must have slept, for presently the sound of a church bell smote +upon his ear, and with a start he sprung from the bed, and stealthily +drew the curtains a little apart. + +Yes, the dawn was breaking, the hour of his triumph was approaching. + +Wrapping himself in his cloak, and with a fur over his arm for Violet, +he caught up his valise, and with cat-like step made his way to the +boudoir. + +The door was ajar, as he had left it a few hours ago, but he paused and +softly whispered her name. + +There was no answer, and he crept in. + +He had expected to find her there ready dressed, and waiting for +him, but the room was empty. He went to the door of the bedroom and, +knocking gently, cautiously called to her. + +Still there was no answer, and after a moment's hesitation, he tried +the door. It was unlocked, and he opened it and entered. The room was +dimly lighted by a small shaded lamp, and for the moment he could +distinguish nothing clearly, but the next he saw a figure lying on the +bed. It was she. She was lying as if she had fallen backward in a fit +of exhaustion, her pale face turned upward, one arm hanging by her +side, the other thrown across the bed. + +"Asleep? My poor darling!" he murmured. "But I must wake her! There is +no time to be lost!" + +Still she did not move, and he took her hand. + +Something--its icy coldness, perhaps, or its irresponsive +lifelessness--sent an awful pang of fear through him that was like the +stab of a knife. + +Still holding her hand, he caught up the lamp and held it above her +head, his eyes scanning her face. + +The next instant the lamp dropped from his grasp, and with a stifled +cry, he reeled like a drunken man, and fell at her feet! + + + + +CHAPTER XXXI. + + +Blair wrote his letters--there were not many, for Austin Ambrose had so +entirely undertaken the management of the vast estates that Blair knew +very little about any business pertaining to them. + +He commenced a letter to Violet herself, but after several attempts +tore it up. He would see her before he started for the meeting, and say +good-bye as cautiously as he could. + +Then he went out, and, leaving the city behind, wandered into the +country beyond. + +Still thinking of Margaret and the picture which in so mysterious and +strange a manner photographed her and her death, he returned to the +palace, and was surprised to find that it was past four. + +He went straight to his rooms, and there, on the dressing-table, found +Austin Ambrose's note. + +Blair destroyed the note, then had a bath, and dressed himself with +more than his usual care, doing it with his own hands, and without +summoning the valet. + +Then he sighed. He could not go on this errand of life or death without +saying "good-bye" to his wife. And yet he shrank from it as he now +shrank from nothing else connected with the affair. But it had to be +done, and he went into her apartments and knocked at the bedroom door +which Austin Ambrose had closed after him. There came no answer, and +Blair, after waiting for a minute or two, turned away. + +He went to the writing table, and taking out a sheet of the scented +paper stamped with its gold coronet, wrote a line. + + "Good-bye, Violet! Heaven send you every happiness. + + BLAIR." + +This he put in an envelope and laid it on the slope where she would see +it when she entered the room; which she would do about ten o'clock. If +he came out of this affair alive he should return long before that hour +and could destroy the note. + +Then he put on his cloak, and as quietly as possible left the house. +The morning air struck coldly, and with a little shudder he turned up +the collar of his coat and lit a cigar. + +As the clocks chimed half-past five he reached the ground behind the +hospital. A carriage and pair stood under the shelter of some trees, +and near it was a group of three men. Blair distinguished the prince by +his height; the second man was the general, and the third Blair judged +to be the doctor; but Austin Ambrose was not there. + +"My friend Mr. Ambrose has not arrived, I see," said Blair cheerfully. +"I'm very sorry; but I have no doubt he will be here directly. He left +word that he would be here before me." + +"He will arrive in a minute or two, no doubt," said the general. + +Blair went and leaned against a tree and smoked his cigar placidly. +The prince stood at a little distance with folded arms, looking like a +statue--a statue of implacability--the other two paced up and down. + +A quarter of an hour passed, and the prince beckoned to the general. + +"What is the meaning of this delay?" he demanded haughtily. + +"His lordship's second has not arrived, your highness." + +The prince's face darkened. + +"It is a trick--a subterfuge!" he said, with suppressed rage. "When he +comes, he will be accompanied by the police, no doubt." + +The words were spoken with such an icy distinctness that they reached +Blair. + +His face flushed, and he flung his cigar away and approached the others. + +"Some accident has detained my friend, general," he said. "It is +getting late, and if we wait any longer we may be disturbed. Will one +of you gentlemen do me the favor of acting for me?" + +The two men looked blank; such an arrangement was utterly opposite to +all etiquette. + +Blair smiled cheerfully. + +"Pray don't mind saying no. I am quite willing to dispense with a +second." + +This suggestion certainly could not be entertained, and after a hurried +conference the doctor offered his services; the general and he selected +a level piece of ground, and the doctor brought a couple of swords. + +"You have brought no weapons, my lord," he said. "The prince begs you +will make choice." + +Blair chose one at haphazard, then took off his cloak, and coat and +waistcoat, and turned up his wristbands. + +The doctor eyed him approvingly. + +"If the result depended upon strength, my lord," he said, "I should +have little fear for you, but----" + +"Strength is little to do with it, I know," said Blair smiling; "never +mind, sir, I will try not to discredit you." + +"You are sure there can be no apology?" said the doctor earnestly. + +Blair shook his head. + +"I fear not. I think if I were to apologize, the prince would not +accept it. He has set his heart upon a fight, and"--he smiled again--"I +am not at all inclined to balk him." + +The doctor shrugged his shoulders; there was a short and hurried +conference between the two seconds, and then they placed their men. + +The prince stepped up to his position slowly, and took his stand with +that calm, resolute expression on his face which indicated a settled +purpose. The gray of coming morning fell upon the open space, the white +shirts of the duelists shining out conspicuously in the half light. The +general stood at a little distance between them, his handkerchief in +his hand, and both men fixed their eyes upon it. Then it dropped and +they approached each other slowly and steadily, and looked into each +other's eyes. + +And in the prince's fixed gaze Blair read his intended death-warrant. +He returned the look calmly, almost cheerfully, and the next instant +the shining blades crossed with a sharp, hissing sound. + +For a few moments each kept his guard, each man trying his adversary's +strength. + +It had occurred to Blair that he might succeed in wresting the sword +from the prince's hand, and in doing it sprain his wrist, and so render +him incapable of resuming the duel; but he was speedily convinced of +the futility of such an attempt. Though so much slighter than Blair, +the prince's wrist was like steel, and let Blair bear ever so heavily, +his giant's force was met by its equivalent in steel. Of a certainty +there was no chance of disarming the prince. + +"His lordship is a better swordsman than I expected," murmured the +general. "I always thought that Englishmen did not know how to fence!" + +"This man is one of a thousand," said the doctor. "If the prince should +only lose his temper he may stand a chance." + +The general shook his head. + +"He never loses either his temper or his head when he means +business, and he means it this morning; look at his face," he added, +significantly. + +The doctor nodded. + +"What can the earl have done to offend him so deeply?" he muttered. +"Some woman, I suppose?" + +The general nodded succinctly. + +"_Per Bacco_! they are splendidly matched!" he exclaimed, in a low tone +of admiration. + +At present, indeed, it seemed as if the chances were equal, for, though +the prince had made several passes that ought to have carried his sword +through Blair's body, Blair had parried them skillfully and gracefully, +and still stood untouched. + +The prince's face darkened and he paused, for he thought he read +Blair's intention. He would wait until the prince had scratched him or +inflicted a slight flesh wound, and then declare himself satisfied, the +seconds would interfere, and he, the prince, would be balked. + +With compressed lips, he commenced the attack again, and, seizing a +favorable opportunity, permitted his opponent's sword to cut his arm. + +Blair lowered his weapon instantly, and the seconds sprung forward. + +"A touch, your highness," said the doctor, in a tone of relief. "My +lord, you are satisfied, I presume?" + +Blair inclined his head, and wiped the tip of his sword, but the prince +smiled grimly. + +"Pardon me," he said, slowly, without removing his eyes from Blair's +face. "It is a mere scratch, and will not serve as an excuse, _even for +Lord Ferrers_!" + +There was so deadly an insult in the tone as well as the words, that +Blair's face flamed, and his fingers closed over his hilt. + +"When his highness is rested, I am ready to resume," he said, quietly. + +The seconds drew back reluctantly. + +"Now he will kill him," muttered the general. "Mark my words! At the +next thrust Rivani will run him through." + +Cautiously, and yet with deadly intentions, the prince resumed the +attack. The shining blades gleamed in the pale morning light, and +hissed like snakes as they seemed to cling together; Blair put all +the science he knew into it, but he felt that the moment would come +when the sharp steel, that seemed like something human--or rather +diabolical--in its persistence, would slip past his guard and finish +the chapter for him; and presently he felt as if a hot iron had pierced +his left shoulder; it was followed by the sensation of something warm +trickling down his side, and he knew that he was wounded. + +The two seconds sprung forward, but it was Blair who waved them back. + +"Nothing, nothing!" he said. "Do not interfere, please!" + +It would have been dangerous to have persisted in any attempt to stop +the men, for the swords were flashing and writhing furiously; the +prince was losing his calm; if it went altogether, it would leave him +at Blair's mercy. + +"By Heaven, it is my man who will be killed!" said the general, with +an oath. "What possesses him? Look! he will be in the earl's power +directly. Ah!----" + +The exclamation was wrung from him by a pass of Blair's that the prince +parried so narrowly that Blair's blade cut his sleeve from elbow to +wrist. + +The faces of the two men were white as death, their teeth set, their +eyes gleaming with that fire which springs from hearts burning for a +fellow creature's life. + +Another moment would settle it, one way or the other, and Blair, whose +strength was beginning to tell, was wearing down the prince's guard; +the seconds were, all unconsciously, drawing nearer and nearer in +readiness for the fatal moment, when a woman's shriek clave the air, +and two figures seemed to spring from the ground, and fling themselves +upon the prince. + + + + +CHAPTER XXXII. + + +Blair sprung forward and picked up the prince's sword, and was offering +it to him when one of the women released her grasp of the prince, and +turning to Blair with outstretched arms, uttered his name. + +He started and shuddered as if he had been shot, then, with his eyes +fixed on the pale, lovely face before him, began to tremble. The fact +was, the poor fellow thought that he was dead, and that this was his +Margaret coming to meet him in the other land! + +"Blair!" she breathed, trembling like himself, and drawing a little +nearer; "Blair, do you not know me?" + +Then he uttered a cry--a cry of such agony, of doubt, and fear, and +longing, that it went to the hearts of all who heard it. It touched two +of them with pity, but the third--the prince's--it turned to fire. + +"Stand aside!" he cried, passionately, and he thrust Lottie from his +arm. "Stand aside! Your victim shall not save you, you heartless +scoundrel! Here, in her presence, you shall pay the penalty!" and he +sprung forward with his blade pointed. + +The men rushed toward him, but Margaret was before them. With a cry she +flung herself upon his breast, and seizing his arms, held them up with +a strength almost superhuman. + +The prince looked down at her face with wild anguish. + +"You, you!" he uttered, reproachfully. "You step between me and this +villain!" + +"I see no villain, prince!" she said, panting, her eyes fixed on his +face. "He who stands there is--my husband!" Then she slid from him and +sank with an indescribable cry of love and joy upon Blair's breast. + +The prince leant on his sword, and he stood looking at them with a wild +amazement that seemed to hold the general and the doctor as if in a +trance. + +The general was the first to recover himself. With his eyes still +fixed on Blair and Margaret, who stood gazing into each other's eyes +speechlessly, he went up to the prince, and gently took the sword from +his grasp. + +"Come away, your highness," he said, in a whisper, "this is no place +for us." + +"Her husband! Her husband!" breathed the prince, like one in a dream. +"Impossible!" + +"It looks only too possible," said the general gravely. "Doubtless Lord +Ferrers will offer a full explanation later on, but this is no time for +it." + +"That it isn't, but you can take my word for it that it's true!" said a +voice, broken with a sob. + +It was Lottie's. The general turned and stared at her. + +"You are Miss Leslie's--that is, the countess'--friend, madam?" +he said, still staring at her in amazement, that overwhelmed his +politeness. + +"No, her worst enemy, but one," said Lottie, in her old curt manner. +"Oh, I can't tell you half of the story, but if you want to know, it +was I who separated them," she said defiantly, through her tears. +"But," she added pathetically, "it was I who brought them together +again!" + +"This is strange!" murmured the general. "Come away, Rivani!" + +The prince started as if from a trance and strode toward Blair and +Margaret. + +"One word, my lord!" he said hoarsely. "You know, you have known from +the first, the reason for our meeting. Will you tell me, as man to man, +that it had no basis? Will you pledge me your word that you have not +injured this lady, for alas, I cannot trust her! It is her heart that +has spoken----" + +"As man to man I pledge my word that I have not knowingly injured this +lady," said Blair brokenly. "She is my wife, Prince Rivani!" then his +voice failed him, and he drew Margaret closer to him with a passionate +pressure. + +The prince bowed, his face white as death, his lips quivering. + +"That is sufficient," he said. His eyes turned to Margaret. "Madam, +will you forgive me? It was for your sake----" he stopped. + +With a sob. Margaret put out her hand to him. He took it, bent over it +as if to kiss it, then, as if he could not trust his forced composure +another moment, he let it fall and strode away. + +Two minutes afterward Blair and Margaret and Lottie were left alone. + +What pen could describe the joy which fell upon those two hearts, so +long parted by worse than death, but now reunited! Mine shall not +attempt it. For a time they stood, her head resting upon his breast, +his arm holding her tightly, as if he feared that the next moment he +might lose her again. For a time they could only speak in broken, +passionate murmurs and it was not until Lottie timidly drew near them +that Blair led Margaret to a fallen tree and implored her to tell him +how it came to pass that she, whom he had mourned as dead, was now +again in his arms. + +For an hour they sat, while with many breaks and much faltering, she +told the strange story, he listening the while in an amazement that +almost overwhelmed his joy. He forgot Lottie, forgot that the city had +awakened into its daily life, and above all, he forgot that another +woman claimed to be his wife; that, at no great distance, Violet Graham +was awaiting him. + +It came upon him suddenly, so suddenly that he almost sprung to his +feet with a cry of terror and agony. + +"Oh, Blair, be calm!" said Margaret, clinging to him, for she thought +that he had suddenly realized who it was that had wrecked their lives, +though she had cautiously and carefully refrained from mentioning +Austin Ambrose. "Be calm, dearest. All our trouble is over now. Let him +go. What does it matter? Promise me, Blair--Blair, my love, my husband!" + +He groaned, then he started. + +"Let him go! Him? Who?" + +His wildness frightened her, and she would have soothed him and put the +question by, but Lottie was within hearing, and it was too much for her. + +"Who? Why, Austin Ambrose!" she exclaimed. + +"Hush, hush!" said Margaret, warningly, and she held up her hand +haughtily, for, much as Lottie had done to restore her to happiness, +she could not endure the sight of her or the sound of her voice. + +"Hush!" exclaimed Lottie, half indignantly. "What! are you going to +let him go on trusting that wolf in sheep's clothing any longer? Why, +it's past reason! Give him a loophole, and he'll ruin everything yet. +I know him and you don't, no, neither of you, and Blair--I mean Lord +Ferrers--least of all. Why, my lord, you two would never have been +parted but for Austin Ambrose." + +"Austin! Austin!" echoed Blair. + +Then Lottie poured out the story of her villainy and her weakness. Out +it came, despite Margaret's commands and entreaties, and, like a lava +torrent, it seared Blair's heart. + +White and speechless he listened, until, almost breathless, Lottie +cried in conclusion: + +"And he is down at the palace still, and he'll ruin everything yet if +you don't crush him. Oh! I know what he is. He is there with her----" + +"Her! Who?" asked Margaret, bewildered. + +Lottie stopped short and looked aghast. She had forgotten Violet +Graham, the woman who stood before the world as the Countess of +Ferrers, as Blair's lawful wife. + +Blair held up his hand. + +"Not a word more!" he said. "Go, now, Lottie. I--I will send for you +later." + +Lottie hung her head and left them, and for a few minutes Blair sat +silent, feeling as if some fiend had dashed the cup of joy from his +lips again. + +How was he to tell this lovely angel whose image had never left his +heart's throne, this lovable woman who clung to him as if to sever from +him would be death to her, how could he tell her that, thinking her +dead, he had taken another woman as his wife! + +He could not then, at that supreme moment, at any rate. + +He rose, still with his arm round her. + +"Dearest," he said in a whisper. "You must go home--to your own home +for the present----" + +Margaret started and looked at him, then her face went white, but she +said nothing, not one word. + +"For the present," he repeated, almost beside himself. "In an hour or +two I will come to you. Tell me where?" + +She told him falteringly, yet calmly. + +"You can trust me! Surely you can trust me! Ah, if you knew what it +costs me to part with you for a single second! But it must be--it must +be!" he groaned. "Believe in me, trust me, dearest Margaret, my wife, +for a few short hours longer! You will?" + +She looked up at him for a second with a deep earnestness, then she +laid her head upon his heart and he kissed her. + +With a consideration and a delicacy peculiarly Italian, the prince had +left his carriage, and Blair led her to it. He stood and watched it as +it drove away, with all that he cared for in life, with the treasure so +marvelously restored to him, then he turned toward the city. + +He seemed to be walking in a dream. What was this task that lay before +him? He was to go to Violet Graham and say, "you are no longer my +wife--you never have been my wife! Begone!" It was true he owed her +no pity, for she had gained her ends by an unscrupulous alliance with +the traitor who had marred and ruined so large a portion of his life; +but--still--it was from love of him that she had sinned! And now to +go to her and tell her that Nemesis had fallen upon her, and that +henceforth she must go before the world a thing for scorn to mock at. + +With Austin Ambrose, Blair knew how to deal; there would be no +hesitation there. Two or three short words, followed by one blow. But +Violet----! + +Slowly he made his way to the palace. Servants were running to and fro +in the vast hall, the sounds of life were filling the air which a short +time back was so still and quiet. + +He entered the hall and mounted the stair with dragging step. In the +corridor his valet stood aside to let him pass, and regarded his pale +face with covert curiosity. + +"Is--is her ladyship down yet?" asked Blair. + +"No, my lord; it is not her ladyship's time for rising yet." + +Blair glanced at the clock. + +"No, no," he said. Then his face darkened. "Will you go to Mr. +Ambrose's room and send him to me?" he said. + +"Mr. Ambrose has gone into the city, and has not returned yet, my +lord," said the man. "I thought your lordship knew----" + +"Wait in the hall until he returns, and ask him to come to me," said +Blair. + +He passed on and entered Violet's boudoir. His note lay on the table +where he had left it, and he tore it in pieces and dropped it on the +fire. Then he paced to and fro, stopping to listen now and again. + +All was still in Violet's room, and he began to ask himself the +question if it was necessary for him to see her. Could he not write and +tell her all that he had discovered; could he not break it to her in +some way? Why should he not leave the place with Margaret alone, within +an hour or two, and see Violet no more? + +But his spirit rebelled against the suggestion. It seemed unmanly +and unworthy. No, he would go through with his task to the bitter +end. First Violet, then the other conspirator, Austin Ambrose. Still +he waited. The hands of the clock toiled round the dial, and chimed +the hour. With a start he nerved himself and knocked at the door. No +response followed, and he knocked again and again, more loudly. Then he +opened the door and entered. + +The next instant he staggered back with a cry of horror. + +Stretched upon the bed was the woman he had made his wife, and lying at +her feet was the man who had been at once her dupe and her master. As +Blair bent over to raise her, he fell back shuddering, for he saw that +she was dead! At the same instant the white hand of the man lying at +her feet dropped lifelessly and slid away. Blair, who had been about to +strike him, saw a small vial lying at his feet. + +Small as it was, it had contained sufficient poison for Austin Ambrose. +It was the vial he had carried in his breast for months past, for +which he had felt that night when he thought that Blair had discovered +his villainy. It was for this that he had plotted and schemed with a +heartless ruthlessness that an Iago might have envied! To find the +woman he had loved and entrapped snatched by Death from his grasp in +the very hour of his triumph, and to finish his career--a Suicide! + + + + +CHAPTER XXXIII. + + +About twelve months after what the newspapers called "The Mystery +in High Life at Naples," on a very bright day in June, the Earl of +Ferrers and Margaret, his wife, were standing at the open window of the +drawing-room at the court. + +This window commands the best view of the drive, and it seemed by the +intentness with which the two pairs of eyes watched it that they were +expecting some one. + +Leyton Court always looks at its best in June, and it has never looked +better than it did this year, for the earl had spent a great deal of +money on the place--"a small fortune," as it was said. A new wing had +been built; the old part of the house redecorated; but above and beyond +all, an addition had been made to the picture-gallery, which raised it +to the first rank in England. + +This had been done "to pleasure" Margaret, the countess, whom the world +rightly regarded as one of its best and noblest artists. This same +world, too, had gone slightly mad over the countess, and would have +been delighted to make her the sensation of the season. For, consider! +she was not only the wife of a wealthy earl, but the heroine of as +romantic a history as the modern world wots of. Even now people did not +know the full particulars, did not know more than that the countess +was supposed to have died, and that the earl had, in all innocence, +married Violet Graham; and that Violet Graham had died of heart disease +at Naples, and Mr. Austin Ambrose had poisoned himself--for love of +her. All this the world knew, but it was still ignorant of the details, +of the diabolical plot which Austin Ambrose had woven, and so nearly +successfully. But it knew enough to make Margaret a "sensation," and it +was quite prepared to meet her in saloons and ballrooms, and point at +her in the park, and fight for introductions to her, and intrigue to +get her to its concerts and dinner-parties. + +But Margaret had declined to be made a sensation of. Immediately after +the tragedy at the palace at Naples, both she and Blair disappeared, +not together, as the world hinted, but separately; and it was only +through the appearance of her pictures at the various European +galleries that people were made aware of her existence. + +For months Margaret lived in a seclusion as impenetrable as that of +a Trappist, and it was not until Blair had fallen ill and sent for +her that she had gone to him. Then the rumor went round that Leyton +Court was being done up, and that the earl and countess were going to +live there just like an ordinary couple who had not been the hero and +heroine of romance. + +"I hope they won't be late," said Blair, looking at his watch and then +staring down the drive. + +"The trains are always late--unless you want to catch them, then they +are fatally punctual!" said Margaret. "I feel as if I were growing +_old_ waiting for them!" + +He turned and looked at her with that smile of combined devotion and +admiration which the man wears who is both husband and lover. + +"You don't look very old, Madge," he said. "In my eyes you seem younger +than when I saw you first. What is it you use? Some magical cosmetique, +eh?" + +"I don't generally tell my toilet secrets, but I will just this +once. It is a capital preparation, Blair, and, but that you look so +ridiculously boyish yourself, I'd recommend you to use it. It is +_Cosmetique de Felicite_----" + +"Which translated means----? You know I don't know two words of French." + +"Which translated means 'Cosmetic of Happiness,' you ignorant young +man!" and she stole a little closer and looked up at him invitingly. + +He put his arm round her and kissed her, and of course she pretended to +be indignant. + +"Right, before the window, and these people likely to come at any +moment, sir!" she exclaimed. + +"I wish they would come," he said. "I hate waiting for people. Let us +go out and meet them." + +"Very well!" she responded, and dashed off for her hat. + +In two minutes they were walking side by side down the avenue, and they +had not got very far before the Court carriage came bowling up the +smooth road. + +"There they are, Blair! Hold up your hand or they'll pass us! Florence! +Florence!" + +At the sound of her musical voice a girlish head appeared at the +carriage window, and a girlish voice shouted an eager greeting. The +coachman, looking rather scandalized at this want of ceremony, pulled +up, and Prince Rivani and the Princess Florence sprung out. + +The two men shook hands warmly, each looking into the other's face +with that frank, steady glance which denotes a stanch friendship; and +the two girls embrace, and laugh, and almost cry in a breath. + +"Oh, you dear creature!" exclaimed the princess. "Isn't this just like +you to come and meet us? And we thought it was only a young couple +love-making as they strolled along, for you had got hold of each +other's hand, just like two sweethearts; did you know that?" + +Margaret blushed. + +"We are two sweethearts," she whispered, almost piteously. + +Then Margaret turned to the prince, who was waiting for his share of +the greeting. + +The prince looked older than when we saw him last, but as he took +Margaret's hand in his and pressed it warmly, he was able to meet her +clear, pure eyes without a trace of embarrassment or reserve. Good +blood has many advantages over the ignoble sort, and not the least is +the power to conquer self. In the twelve months that had passed since +he stood opposite Blair, and sought to take his life, Prince Rivani +had fought a sterner fight even than that memorable one at Naples; the +fight with a passion which had threatened to absorb his life, and he +had conquered so completely that he could return the gentle pressure of +Margaret's hand with one of brotherly affection. + +"If I cannot have her for lover and wife," he had sworn to himself, "at +least, I will have her for friend!" + +It was a noble and unselfish vow, and he fought for strength until he +had accomplished it. + +"And now, when you can tear yourselves apart, you two," said Blair, +with a smile, addressing the two ladies, who displayed a great +disposition to linger under the trees, and talk for the remainder of +their lives, "perhaps we'd better go to the house." + +"And what a lovely place it is!" exclaimed the princess. "I always +thought the Villa Capri the beautifulest house in the world, but it is +a _hovel_ compared to this. Oh how happy you must be, dear!" she added +in a whisper. + +"Yes," said Margaret, with her quiet smile; "yes I am very fond of the +Court, but I think I am happy because I am the wife of its master!" + +Florence glanced at Blair as he strode along beside the prince in +earnest conversation. + +"What a splendid fellow he is, dear," she said in a low voice, not +altogether free from awe. "Do you know, if I weren't so fond of +him--you aren't jealous?--I think I should be a little afraid of him. +The stories we are always hearing about him since we came to England! +It is always how Lord Blair--they always call him Blair!--rode in such +and such a race, and how he swam such and such a river, and fought such +and such a man, and what a magnificent place Leyton Court is, and how +lovely and famous the Countess of Ferrers had become! Why, when some +people heard we were coming to stay with you they looked at us as if we +were going down to Windsor Castle!" + +Margaret laughed with all her old light-heartedness. + +"You always were a terrible flatterer, Florence!" she said. + +"Now, that's a shame, for it prevents me saying what I was going to +remark; but I'll say it all the same. Margaret, do you know that I +should scarcely have known either of you?" + +"Really? We have both grown so gray!" + +"You have both grown so ridiculously _young_!" retorted the princess +emphatically. "I don't mean that you ever looked old, that's absurd of +course; but you were so grave and quiet and sad. Don't you remember +the first day I saw you I said you reminded me of mamma? That you were +so--so--what is the word you English are so fond of?--so sober! That's +it! And now you speak and laugh like a young girl again!" + +And Margaret answered her almost as she had answered Blair. + +"Do I, dear? It must be because I am so happy!" + +And indeed it was a very happy little party in the small dining-room +that night. Blair was like the old Blair, full of stories of his wild +youth, ready with the old light laughter; just the same Blair who used +to win the hearts of old and young in the time before Austin Ambrose +had commenced to set his snares. + +They were so merry in a wise fashion, so light-hearted, that they +had forgotten the past entirely; and it was not until the two ladies +had left the room--the princess beseeching the two gentlemen not to +leave them alone in the drawing-room _too_ long, in case they should +quarrel--that Blair grew suddenly quiet. + +"I can't tell you how I have looked forward to this visit, Rivani," he +said. "I have been looking forward to it since that day in Florence +when we shook hands at parting, and you promised to come and stay with +us." + +"I am very glad to come," said the prince, with sincere earnestness. +"Gladder still to see you so well--and the countess." + +"You thinks she looks well?" said Blair, his face lighting up at once. + +"She looks the picture of youth and health and happiness," said the +prince, quietly, "and more beautiful--you will pardon me--than ever in +my eyes." + +"And in mine, old fellow!" said Blair, holding out his hand. + +There was silence after that significant meeting of the palms, then +Blair said, "Any news?" + +The prince was silent a moment. + +"No, not much," he answered, after a pause. "All you wished done I have +had carried out." + +He referred to two graves in the cemetery at Naples which he had +undertaken to keep in order--two graves covered with huge slabs of +black marble, one bearing the initials "A. A." and the other "V. G." + +Blair nodded, and his face grew cloudy for a moment. + +"And Lottie?" + +"Lottie doesn't need your generous assistance any longer," said the +prince, with a smile. "She is now one of the most famous young ladies +in Italy. I forgot to send you the paper containing an account of her +great success in the new spectacular play"--he had not forgotten, but +had remembered with some consideration that the paper would only recall +the past and its old bitterness--"she took them by storm, I assure +you, and for weeks our volatile people were raving about her; for that +matter they are raving still," and he laughed. + +Blair smiled, but his face was still clouded, and the prince laid a +hand on his shoulder. + +"Blair, forgive me, but I think the time has now come when the past may +be allowed to bury its dead. That it may do so the more completely I +want you and Lady Ferrers to assist me in a short ceremony." + +Blair looked at him inquiringly. + +"Will you ask her ladyship if she will kindly show me round her +studio?" said the prince gravely. "She knows how devoted I am to the +art of which she is so great a mistress!" + +"Certainly," said Blair, rising, and still puzzled. + +They went into the drawing-room, where Margaret and the princess +were sitting very close together, and Blair whispered a few words to +Margaret. + +She got up directly, and drew the princess' arm through her own. + +"Follow me," she said; and she led them to the magnificent studio which +Blair had built for her. + +Here, amongst costly pictures and rare statues gleaming in the +reflected light of antique curtains of deep reds and blues of Oriental +dyes, she showed them her latest work. + +"Beautiful!" exclaimed the prince. "Beautiful! Ah! if Alfero could but +be here! Do you know what he said when I told him that I was coming to +see you?" + +"No," said Margaret; "but everything that was kind and thoughtful I am +sure," she added. + +"He told me to convey his devotion to you, and say that he looked +forward to the hour when he should be able to kiss your hand; then he +sighed and added, 'and tell her not to forget that she is an artist as +well as a great English lady. Anybody can be a countess, but Heaven +only sends us such a painter as she is at long intervals. Tell her to +put the paint-brush and the palette first and her coronet afterward!'" + +"That was like him!" said Margaret softly. "How much I owe him! You +shall take my answer back, prince. But, see; do you think I have been +idle?" and she looked modestly at the pictures on the wall and on the +easel. + +"No," he said. "No," then he was silent a minute; "but there is one +thing I wish you would do--it is for myself. I want you to alter a +picture of yours I have got." + +"Really!" she cried eagerly. "Of course I will!" + +"Thanks!" he said gravely, "I knew you would not refuse me. I will go +and fetch it, for I have brought it with me." + +He left the room, and the other three waited expectantly. While he was +gone, Margaret took up her palette and brush, and absently began mixing +some colors. + +He re-entered the room presently with a canvas-inclosed case, and, +unlocking it, placed upon the easel the famous picture of the Long Rock. + +Blair uttered an exclamation, but Margaret stood and regarded it in +silence, though her face was very pale. + +"I want you to alter this for me," said the prince, gravely and gently. +"Can you not guess how?" + +She looked up at him inquiringly, then, reading his meaning in his +eyes, she took up a large brush, filled it with black paint, and in +another minute the picture had disappeared. + +Florence uttered an exclamation of dismay, but the prince inclined his +head, and as Margaret turned and hid her face on Blair's breast, he +said: + +"That is what I wanted. Now, in deed and in truth, my friends, we may +say that the past is blotted out; not even the shadow of it can mar the +happiness of your future; a future made bright with a love that has +been tried in the furnace and found not wanting." + +And this is the reason why Lady Ferrers' great masterpiece, which set +all Italy talking and made her famous, can never be found, and some +art critics are beginning to doubt whether, after all, it could have +been so good as Signor Alfero and others declared it to have been; and +whether some of her later pictures, which dealt with the bright side +of nature, may not be far better than the mysterious work which has +disappeared so strangely. + +[THE END.] + +[Illustration] + + + + +Transcriber's Notes: + + +This e-text is derived from the hardcover Columbus Series edition, +where the book was used as filler following Mrs. Alex. McVeigh Miller's +_A Dreadful Temptation; or, A Young Wife's Ambition_. + +Added table of contents. + +Italics are represented with _underscores_. + +Some inconsistent hyphenation retained (e.g. "dressing gown" vs. +"dressing-gown", "maidservant" vs. "maid-servant"). + +The inconsistent spelling of General Tralani vs. General Trelini +appears to be an error, but as both spellings appear just once, and the +error is found in multiple editions of this book, it is impossible to +determine which is the correct version. + +Page 6, added missing quote before "Tell the man." + +Page 9, moved misplaced quote inside "Don't interfere, my men." + +Page 17, added missing quote before "I thought." + +Page 25, added missing em-dash before "that his lordship." + +Page 26, removed extraneous quote before "Well, let's go now, grandma." + +Page 28, changed "mussical" to "musical." + +Page 32, changed "Say" to "Stay" in "Stay, if you please." + +Page 34, added missing quote before "What a beautiful bouquet." + +Page 37, added missing quote after "old one." + +Page 44, changed "juyous" to "joyous." + +Page 50, changed comma to period after "at any rate." + +Page 51, changed comma to period after "stopped short." + +Page 52, removed extraneous comma from "perfectly absorbed." + +Page 55, removed extraneous quote after "To keep it!" Changed "It in +mine" to "It is mine." + +Page 72, changed "hers ketch-block" to "her sketch-block." + +Page 76, removed superfluous quote before "Not sure?" + +Page 78, adjusted capitalization/punctuation at start of "What did she +say?" + +Page 79, changed incorrect nested quotes at end of final paragraph. + +Page 83, added missing quote after "you're right, Austin." + +Page 84, added missing quote after "I dare say." + +Page 86, added missing quote after "take this." + +Page 93, removed superfluous quotation mark after "from the room." + +Page 105, changed "sauvely" to "suavely." + +Page 123, added missing comma after "need not wait." + +Page 127, added missing "o" to "all of their." + +Page 130, changed "Mrs. Blair" to "Mrs. Day." + +Page 132, added missing quote before "Well, the tide." + +Page 140, changed "all-devoring" to "all-devouring." + +Page 151, changed "keep if" to "keep it." + +Page 161, added missing quote after "out in this storm." + +Page 168, changed "Met me help" to "Let me help." + +Page 174, removed superfluous quote after "Rose of Devon." + +Page 179, added missing quote before "Some people's." + +Page 181, added missing quote after "Prince Ferdinand Rivani." + +Page 182, italicized "salon" for consistency. + +Page 193, changed "camllias" to "camellias." + +Page 196, added missing quote after "dear Lucille." + +Page 199, changed "faint fry" to "faint cry" and "sholders" to +"shoulders" and added missing quote after "she murmured huskily." + +Page 208, changed "acccount" to "account." + +Page 215, changed ! to ? in "Oh, what have I said?" + +Page 217, changed "sufficed for the signor" to "sufficed for the +signora." + +Page 220, removed superfluous quote after "young attache." + +Page 230, changed "require some preparations" to "requires some +preparations." + +Page 242, changed comma to period after "favorable position." + +Page 246, changed "addresss" to "address." + +Page 251, changed ! to ? in "Do you think I am dreaming?" + +Page 257, added missing close quote after "could require." + +Page 258, changed "forgotton" to "forgotten." + +Page 259, removed superfluous quote after first "It is true!" Changed ! +to ? in "And if I refuse?" Removed superfluous quote after "I have told +you." + +Page 261, changed "husband wife" to "husband and wife" and added +missing quote before "I will go." + +Page 263, changed "signoria" to "signorina" (twice in last paragraph). + +Page 266, removed superfluous quote after "Ambrose" in "Austin Ambrose! +The cruellest." + +Page 268, added missing quote after "to the minute." + +Page 273, changed "possessses" to "possesses." + +Page 281, removed superfluous quote after "he had accomplished it." + +Page 284, added missing single close quote after "coronet afterward!" + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Wild Margaret, by +Geraldine Fleming and Charles Garvice + +*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 44828 *** |