diff options
Diffstat (limited to 'old/51972-0.txt')
| -rw-r--r-- | old/51972-0.txt | 12830 |
1 files changed, 0 insertions, 12830 deletions
diff --git a/old/51972-0.txt b/old/51972-0.txt deleted file mode 100644 index 245b2e3..0000000 --- a/old/51972-0.txt +++ /dev/null @@ -1,12830 +0,0 @@ -Project Gutenberg’s Priscilla and Charybdis, by Frank Frankfort Moore - -This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and most -other parts of the world at no cost and with almost no restrictions -whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms of -the Project Gutenberg License included with this eBook or online at -www.gutenberg.org. If you are not located in the United States, you’ll have -to check the laws of the country where you are located before using this ebook. - - - -Title: Priscilla and Charybdis - A Story of Alternatives - -Author: Frank Frankfort Moore - -Release Date: May 2, 2016 [EBook #51972] -Last Updated: November 16, 2016 - -Language: English - -Character set encoding: UTF-8 - -*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK PRISCILLA AND CHARYBDIS *** - - - - -Produced by David Widger from page images generously -provided by the Internet Archive - - - - - - - - - -PRISCILLA AND CHARYBDIS - -A STORY OF ALTERNATIVES - -By Frank Frankfort Moore - -Author Of “Castle Omeragh,” The Jessamy Bride,” - -“A Nest Of Linnets,” Etc. - -London: Archibald Constable & Co. Ltd., Orange Street Leicester Square -W.C. - -1909 - -[Illustration: 0001] - -[Illustration: 0007] - - - - - -PRISCILLA AND CHARYBDIS - - - - -CHAPTER I - -WHAT Morley Quorn could not understand was why people made such a -fuss over that fellow Kelton. Who was Kelton anyway that he should give -himself airs, he enquired with some insistence of the five “bassi”--they -were labelled “bassi” in the programme--who were lounging about the door -of the schoolroom where the rehearsal for the concert was being held. - -“He does give himself airs, doesn’t he?” growled another of the same -division of the chorus. - -The rest shook their heads gloomily. It was denied to them to express -themselves adequately on this point, the fact being that the Reverend -Edwin Tucknott, the curate of St. Joan of Arc, was standing hard by with -his flute. The proximity of the clergyman checked complete freedom of -speech, including “language,” among the young men, for they failed to -recollect that in the due performance of that portion of his sacred -office known as the Commination Service he went much further than the -most highly qualified basso could go even when he found it necessary to -describe the absurdities of another and more popular vocalist. - -Mr. Tucknott smiled his olive branch smile in the direction of the -“bassi.” - -“I suppose it is natural for a tenor to give himself airs,” he remarked. -The instant he had spoken he glanced around in rather a shaky way. He -had a feeling that he had gone a little too far. He hoped that no one -would fancy he had been unable to resist a play upon the words. He had -no need, however, to have any misgiving on this point. It was plain that -his daring had hurt the susceptibilities of none. - -“Oh, I don’t say that we’re not prepared for a good bit of side from -a--a chap that fancies he sings tenor,” said Morley Quorn; “but that -fellow Kelton goes just too far. Now what is he up to this time? -Cheeking Mozart Tutt! I wonder that Mr. Tutt stands his impudence.” - -But in a second it became plain that Mr. Mozart Tutt was doing nothing -of the sort. He had been playing the pianoforte accompaniment to Mr. -Kelton’s song, but not in a way that was met with the unqualified -approval of Mr. Kelton. - -“I must ask you to try to play _pianissimo_ when I am doing my shake -on the high note,” said he; and Mr. Tutt had accordingly played -_pianissimo_ when the thing was repeated. - -But Mr. Kelton did not attempt to ascend to the high notes. He stopped -short, and let his page of music flap down in a movement suggestive of a -disappointment that was practically hopeless. - -“If you don’t throw some life into the passage you had better let me -sing without any accompaniment,” he said in a pained way. - -“I will play in any way you suggest, Mr. Kelton,” said Mr. Tutt. “Will -you kindly sit down to the piano and play the accompaniment as you wish -it to be played?” - -But this invitation the tenor felt it to be his duty to decline. He was -no musician. He could not play a passage from the musical score to save -his life, and of this fact Mr. Tutt was well aware. - -“I don’t ask very much--only that you should give me a little support,” - said Mr. Kelton with a suggestion of long-suffering in his voice. “I -take it that the accompaniment to a song--a tenor song--should be played -as if it were nothing more than a background, so to speak, and the -vocalization supplies the colour. I don’t wish to discourage you, Mr. -Tutt; you play quite well sometimes--quite well enough for the people -about here; but we must have light and shade, Mr. Tutt. Now let us try -again.” - -If Mr. Kelton sang with expression, Mr. Tutt played with expressions--he -was almost audible at the door. But still he attacked the air with -spirit. He was a very competent man; he had composed a _Magnificat_ -which Miss Caffyn, the Rector’s daughter, said took a deal of beating, -like a dusty carpet. - -Down went Mr. Kelton’s page of music once more, after he had strained -up to a very shaky G, and up jumped Mr. Mozart Tutt, before the vocalist -had time to formulate his latest complaint. - -“I’ve done my best, and if that isn’t good enough for Mr. Kelton he -would do well to play his own accompaniment, or get some one to play it -who will submit to his insults,” said the musician. - -He walked with dignity to the door leading off the platform, and was -enthusiastically greeted by the five “bassi.” Mr. Tucknott, flute and -all, ran away; he was fearful lest some people should associate him with -the intrepid step taken by Mr. Tutt. - -It was the Rector’s wife who took command of the situation. She knew -that the singing of Mr. Kelton increased to an appreciable extent -the attractiveness of the concert, inasmuch as the Honourable Mrs. -Bowlby-Sutherst had a passion for listening to tenor music, and Mrs. -Bowlby-Sutherst lived at the Hall, and, her husband being patron of the -living, she duly patronized the people who lived by it. It would never -do, Mrs. Caffyn, the Rector’s wife, perceived, to induce the patroness -to attend the concert and then find that there was no tenor solo. That -was why she approached Mr. Kelton with a smile that was meant to suggest -a great deal, and that certainly assured Mr. Kelton that the Church was -on his side. - -“We mustn’t be too hard on poor Mr. Tutt,” she said soothingly. - -“I’m not,” cried the tenor quickly. “But it’s a little too bad that a -man in my position should be subjected to the caprice of such a person. -I have a great mind to throw up the whole business.” - -He had turned a cold shoulder to the lady, as if he meant to leave the -platform that very instant. - -“Oh, no, Mr. Kelton, you would never desert us in such a fashion; -it would not be like you to do so,” said Mrs. Cafifyn. “Mrs. -Bowlby-Sutherst is, I know, coming to our concert solely to hear you -sing ‘In the Land of Sleep.’” - -“I cannot help that, Mrs. Cafifyn. I do not expect a great deal when I -come to sing at a country concert, but I look for common civility, Mrs. -Cafifyn--common civility.” - -“We are all so sorry. I would not for anything that this--this little -difference should arise. You will make allowance for the strain upon -poor Mr. Tutt--I know you will.” - -“Not unless he apologizes--I have a certain amount of self-respect, Mrs. -Caffyn. I have no idea of allowing a person in the position of Mr. Tutt -to presume----” - -“Oh, mother, I have just been talking to Priscilla, and she says she -will be delighted to play the accompaniment to ‘The Land of Sleep,’” - said Rosa Caffyn, who came up hastily to the platform at that moment. -She was a girl who was alluded to in a friendly spirit as healthy--in -an unhealthy spirit as blowsy. She had a good eye, critics of beauty -affirmed, and a straightforward voice, Mr. Tutt had more than once -announced to the schoolmistress. - -“How sweet of Priscilla!” cried Mrs. Caffyn. “Oh, Mr. Kelton, you will, -I know, be pleased with Priscilla’s playing--Miss Wadhurst, you know,” - she added in an explanatory tone. - -Mr. Kelton pursed out his lips slightly, assuming the air of a man -who is being bandaged by the people in the motor that has knocked him -down--an air of aggrieved submission. - -“An amateur?” he said. “I am not familiar with the name as a -professional.” - -“Oh, yes--strictly amateur,” replied Miss Caffyn, who played golf and -other things, and so knew all about the distinctions between performers. - -“I’m not accustomed to be accompanied by amateurs,” said the tenor, -who was a bank clerk in the county town, “but I don’t mind giving her a -trial. Where is she?” - -He put on his _pince-nez_ and looked patronizingly around. - -“Here she comes,” said Rosa, beckoning to some one who was seated in the -body of the school-house--a young woman with a good deal that might -be called striking about her, besides her hair, which was rather -marvellous, and made one think of a painter of the early Venetian -school--there was too much of brown in it to allow of its ever being -called golden, and too much of gold to admit of its being called -coppery. People who knew where they stood compromised the matter by -calling it marvellous. But whatever it was it suited her, though a girl -or two had said positively that Priscilla Wadhurst would be nothing -without her hair. They were wrong: she would still have been -Priscilla--with a difference. - -“It is so sweet of you, Priscilla,” began Mrs Caffyn. - -“Oh, no,” said Priscilla; “I am not good enough--not nearly good -enough.” - -She cast down her eyes for a tremulous moment, and then raised them -coyly to Mr. Kelton’s face; and she saw by the way he looked at her that -he thought she would do. - -“You will not find that I am such a terrible person after all, -Miss--Miss----” - -“Wadhurst,” said Rosa. “I should have introduced you. Miss Wadhurst--Mr. -Kelton.” - -“I heard you last year,” murmured Miss Wadhurst. “I am not likely to -forget it. I am not nearly good enough to be your accompanist, Mr. -Kelton; but if you will make allowances----” - -“Don’t be afraid,” said he with a condescending wave of the left -hand--the right was engaged at the point of his moustache. “You will -find me anything but the dreadful person you might imagine me to be. All -that I ask is to have my instructions carried out to the letter. -I am sure that I shall have no trouble with you, Miss Wadhurst.” - -“I can only do my best, Mr. Kelton,” said Priscilla, sitting down at the -piano. - -“What a nice girl she is! and plays so prettily too,” murmured Mrs. -Cafifyn, resuming her seat and addressing the lady next to her, a Mrs. -Musgrave. - -“Pity she made such a fool of herself!” said Mrs. Musgrave, who, being -a large subscriber to the Church and other charities, availed herself -of the privilege of speaking out when she pleased; and it pleased her to -speak rather more frequently than she pleased by speaking. - -“Ah, yes, yes--a sad story--very sad!” assented the Rector’s wife with a -pleasant sigh. - -And then Miss Wadhurst struck the first chords of “In the Land of Sleep” - in no spirit of compromise. She played the accompaniment a great deal -better than Mr. Tutt had played it--Mr. Tutt said so, and he knew. Mr. -Kelton affirmed it, though he knew nothing about it. Miss Wadhurst -knew a good deal about a piano, and within the past half-hour she had -acquired more than an elementary knowledge of the vanity of an amateur -tenor. She knew that she was at the piano not to do anything more -artistic than to feed the vanity of the vocalist, and she found herself -giving him a very generous meal. She never allowed the instrument to -assert itself, and she wilfully rejected several chances that the music -offered her of showing him what was the exact effect he should aim -at achieving. She knew what the music meant and she knew what the man -meant, and she let him do what he pleased. She gave him plenty of rope -and he made use of every fathom. She waited while he lingered lovingly -on the high note that came into the setting of every stanza, and she -smothered up his false quantities in his lower range. She prolonged the -symphony which the composer had artfully introduced between one stanza -and the next--this was the great feature of the song, for it enabled the -tenor to burst in with startling effect just when people were getting -thoughtful--and, above all, she allowed the vocalist to have the last -word, though the composer meant this to be the perquisite of the piano. - -Mr. Kelton professed himself delighted. He was patronizingly polite in -his reference to Miss Wadhurst’s “touch”--it was quite creditable, he -said; occasionally it had reminded him of Wallace Clarke--it really had. -Wallace Clarke was the very prince of accompanists; it was a pleasure to -sing to his playing. But lest Miss Wadhurst should allow her head to be -turned by his encomiums, Mr. Kelton very discreetly expressed the hope -that she would spend the evening with the music, so that when the time -came for her to accompany him in public she should be able to give all -her attention to his singing, and not have to glance at the pages of the -music before her. - -“Keep your eye on me,” he said. “I never bind myself down to sing a -song twice in the same way--I trust to the inspiration of the moment. My -accompanist must be prepared for anything.” - -“You must not be too hard on Miss Wadhurst,” said Mrs. Caffyn, smiling. - -“Oh, dear, no! you may trust me,” he said heartily. “I know Miss -Wadhurst will trust me. By the way, Miss Wadhurst, I think I shall sing -‘The Message’ for the _encore_. I hope you know the accompaniment.” - -“I think I can manage it,” said Priscilla. - -“It is so good of you to promise us an _encore_,” cried Mrs. Caffyn, -“and I am sure that Mrs. Bowlby-Sutherst will be delighted.” - -“I am always ready to comply with an _encore_,” said Mr. Kelton, “but I -simply decline to respond when people _encore_ my _encore_. Please bear -that in mind, Mrs. Caffyn. I cannot in justice to myself do more than -respond to one _encore_, let that be clearly understood. No matter how -enthusiastic your friends may become----” - -“I am going home. Are you coming, Priscilla?” cried Rosa Caffyn, -breaking in on the cautionary remarks of the tenor with such abruptness -as caused him to be startled, and put on his _pince-nez_ for the purpose -of giving her a rebuking stare. But she was off before he had fallen -into the right pose to obtain the best results, and Priscilla was only a -pace behind her. - -“Did you ever hear such a bounder?” cried Rosa, before they were -quite off the platform. “The idea of taking an _encore_--a double -_encore_--for granted! Priscilla, I would give my second best hat to be -sure that he did not get even the first _encore_.” - -“He knows that an _encore_ is a foregone conclusion: every one _encores_ -the tenor,” said Priscilla, smiling queerly. “Still, it wouldn’t -surprise me if for once-- - -“What are you grinning about in that way? Do you mean to get up a -_claque_ to shout him down?” said Rosa, fancying that she saw some -intelligence behind the smile of the other. - -“Goodness! Do you think that it would be possible to import the tactics -of Italian opera into our peaceful village?” cried Priscilla. “Besides, -how could any one prevent an _encore_ being given? It is easy enough -to force one on, but how are you, short of hissing, to keep down the -applause?” - -Rosa looked at her searchingly. - -“I don’t know, but I believe that you do,” she said. - -“Oh, Laura Mercy!” exclaimed Priscilla, and laughed. - -Before Rosa could demand an explanation of the laugh, they came face to -face with Mr. Mozart Tutt. He was smiling, but not quite easily; it -was plain that he was not sure how his behaviour in regard to the -accompaniment would be regarded by the young women; he had a great -respect for their point of view, and so his smile was a little blurred. -Its outlines were fluctuating. - -He raised a playful forefinger to Priscilla. - -“I am ashamed of you,” he said in a low voice. - -“You need not be, Mr. Tutt. You know that I played the accompaniment -quite well,” said she. - -“You played it artfully, not artistically,” he replied. “The composer -would be ready to tear his hair at the way you pandered at his expense -to that fellow. Did you mean to teach me a lesson in manners?” - -“I mean to teach him a lesson in manners, and music,” said Priscilla -confidentially. - -“What do you say?” cried Rosa, who had failed to hear every word. - -“I only mean that in my opinion Mr. Tutt showed himself singularly -lacking in tact as well as tactics,” said Priscilla. “The idea of a -capable musician standing on his dignity with a man who sings without -any knowledge of music! You should be ashamed of yourself, Mr. Tutt. You -a master, and yet incapable of teaching him a lesson!” - -“I think that you were quite right, Mr. Tutt,” said Rosa. “You showed -the most marvellous patience with that bounder, and you were fully -justified in throwing him over. If he were Caruso himself he could not -have behaved more insolently.” - -“I am so glad that you take my part, Miss Caffyn,” said Mr. Tutt. “I am -sorry that you have not been able to persuade Miss Wadhurst to take your -view of the incident. I assure you that in all my experience I never -found it necessary to act as I did to-day. It was very painful to me. I -wish I understood you better, Miss Wadhurst.” - -“Didn’t some one say that to be understood was to be found out?” said -Priscilla. “Good-bye, Mr. Tutt. Mr. Kelton instructed me to spend the -rest of the day in the company of--of the accompaniment, and I mean -to obey him. I think I see my way to do a good deal with that -accompaniment. Good-bye. I suppose you mean to wait for your mother, -Rosa?” - -“I wouldn’t if you would make it worth my while not,” said Rosa. - -Priscilla shook her head and hurried off. - - - - -CHAPTER II - -Attention was called to the fact that Mr. Kelton, the great tenor, who -had come from Great Gagglington to sing at Mrs. Caffyn’s concert, was -walking about the streets--to be strictly accurate, the street--of -Framsby in the morning, just as if he was an ordinary person. He was -greatly looked at, and it was clearly understood that he was fully -cognisant of this fact, for the self-conscious way in which he tried not -to appear self-conscious could scarcely fail to strike even the young -women of the Glee and Madrigal choir, who, it was understood, were -devoted to him, not merely collectively, but individually. - -It was a great gift, surely, that with which he was endowed, but at the -same time, like other precious endowments of Nature, it carried with it -a great responsibility--perhaps greater than any one man should be asked -to sustain, was what Mr. Eggston, the Nonconformist draper of Framsby -High Street, remarked to his two assistants (male) when he had returned -to the low level of his shop work, after gazing out at Mr. Kelton, who -went by with Clara Gibson, of the Bank. (Mr. Kelton was the guest of -the Gibsons of the Bank--the Gibsons of the Bank were said to be “very -musical.”) Perhaps there was something in the Nonconformist judgment on -this point, and perhaps there was also something in the view taken of -the whole case of Mr. Kelton and his assumptions by the friends of Mr. -Mozart Tutt, and crystallized into the one word “puppy!” - -At any rate, during the day (the concert was to begin at eight o’clock -in the evening) the topic of the town was the quarrel--perhaps it should -rather be called an artistic misunderstanding--between Mr. Tutt and Mr. -Kelton; and of course it was inevitable that the action of Miss Wadhurst -in coming forward to play the accompaniment when Mr. Tutt had felt -himself insulted and retired from the discharge of that duty, was widely -commented on. - -Some who took part in the discussion affirmed that it was rather -extraordinary for a young woman, situated as she was, to place herself -in a position of such prominence. Surely it would have shown better -taste on her part if she had kept in the background. It was foolish for -her to do anything that might have a tendency to attract attention to -herself and to reawaken public interest in that other affair with which -she had been connected. To be sure, it was not quite her fault, -that other thing; but still, if she had made proper--even -reasonable--enquiries before it happened she would not have been made a -fool of. Oh, yes, it was a great pity that she had failed to learn her -lesson at that time. - -And then an impartial chronicler cannot neglect the criticisms of -The Families--the important but not impartial families who surrounded -Framsby with a cincture made up of ten generations of stupidity. The -Palings, the Hamptsons, the Whiteleafifes--these represented the gems -in the girdle that enclosed Framsby, and they agreed that that Wadhurst -young woman was showing herself to be all that they had feared she must -be. “Of course there never was a question of our looking on her as one -of ourselves; but still we thought it might be possible, after a year or -two, when the thing was not so fresh in people’s minds... but the young -woman has not shown herself to be duly penitent for having been made a -fool of, and now she is actually going to appear on a platform--a public -platform.... Oh, yes, it is quite as well that we made no move.” - -And all this discussion took place between Wednesday afternoon and -Thursday evening. It was on Wednesday afternoon that the rehearsal -of the music was held; the concert was to take place on the following -evening. Rosa Caffyn heard a good deal of the talk that arose on all -sides during this brief space of time, and she knew that, whatever -surmises were made as to Priscilla’s object in agreeing to play the -accompaniment, not one of them got within measurable distance of the -truth. What was the true object of Priscilla’s ready compliance Rosa -herself was at a loss to say; but she was quite convinced that good -nature was not at the bottom of it--the suggestion made by Mrs. Caffyn -and acquiesced in by the Rector--and she was equally certain that a -desire to bring herself into prominence was not the impulse in the force -of which she had acted. Good gracious! the prominence of the player of -a pianoforte accompaniment to a single song! Good nature! the most -weak-kneed of the virtues. Rosa knew perfectly well that Priscilla had -too much character to be ever accused of being good-natured. Miss -Caffyn was puzzled, and it was not for the first time that she was so in -association with the affairs of Priscilla Wadhurst. There, for instance, -was that other affair which gave Priscilla rather more than the -prominence of an accompanist at a charity concert--that had puzzled -Rosa. How could any girl---- - -But Rosa refused to allow herself to enter again into that tortuous -question; all that she knew was that Priscilla Wadhurst remained before -her eyes as an object worthy of admiration--a girl who could think out -things beforehand, and who refused to allow herself to be got the better -of by Fate; who refused to be submissive to the ways of Providence, -but was always on the look-out for a by-way of her own--just what -strong-minded persons are when they are busy making history. When any -young woman like Rosa Caffyn has come to think of another in such a -spirit, she has gone too far to be brought by much thinking into line -with the rest of the world, who, though thinking they can see, are blind -and incapable even of groping. - -But the last criticism on Priscilla Wadhurst came from Morley Quorn and -the company of “bassi.” It took the form of a shaking of the head--a -sad, disappointed shake taken at three-quarter time at first, but -gradually quickening until it ceased in a quiver of quavers. The “bassi” - were large-hearted fellows, and had always thought the best of Miss -Wadhurst. They felt quite sad to think that she had consented to help -that chap Kelton up to another step in that pyramid of self-conceit to -the apex of which he had been toiling for years, since he had received -his first _encore_ on a platform in Framsby and had been asked to supper -at the Bowlby-Suthersts. Yes, the “bassi” shook their heads, but they -determined so far as the concert was concerned to remain neutral in -respect of applause; they would not stoop so low as to refuse to applaud -the singing of the song, if it was well sung, simply because the -singer had insulted the musical conductor. At the same time they would -certainly not applaud an incompetent rendering of the song simply -because a young lady who had wonderful hair and who had been rather -unfortunate in other ways was playing the accompaniment. - -And thus, with criticism and comment and innuendo, the hours passed -until the doors of the hall were opened and the public crushed into -their places, the Bowlby-Suthersts arriving a little late. Priscilla -sat in the third row of the front seats by the side of her friend Rosa -Caffyn and her young brother Clifford Caffyn. The Rector and his wife -had, of course, seats in the front row; it was necessary that they -should be in that position, so that they might welcome their patrons the -Bowlby-Suthersts, and this division of the family deprived people of -the power of saying that Mrs. Caffyn wholly approved of Priscilla. Mrs. -Caffyn had long ago perceived that it would be dangerous if not actually -detrimental to her position--well, not exactly her position, for the -position of the wife of a clergyman of the Church of England is not -jeopardized even by a display of Christianity--no, but still--well, Mrs. -Caffyn had no notion of allowing her name to be mixed up with that of -Priscilla Wadhurst, especially when any of the Bowlby-Suthersts were -at hand. And the consequence was that people said that Mrs. Caffyn had -acted very well in this delicate matter, and that when her daughter Rosa -got a year or two older she would find that it did not pay to foster -close intimacies with people who showed a tendency to be unlucky in -life. - -Mr. Morley Quorn got a great reception when he came forward to sing -“Honour and Arms,” and when he got his second wind for one of the runs, -and then went ahead of the piano through a feeling of terror -lest he might not have enough breath to complete the run of -“glo-ho-ho-ho-ho-ho-ho-ho-ho-ho-ho-ho-ho-ho-ho-ho-horay,” in one of -those braggadocio flights of the great master, Mr. Kelton, who was among -the performers on the platform, bowed his head and laughed gently to -himself, but with the face of the man who laughs so that no one could -fail to notice what he was about. - -But although Morley Quorn saw him out of the corner of his eye, and -longed to do for him all that Harapha looked forward to do for Samson, -still he managed to pull himself together and make a distinct impression -by his low note at the finish. He held on to that low note, and every -one knew that he meant it to be a sort of challenge to that fellow -Kelton. But Mr. Kelton, feeling the same thing, was more offensive than -before, for he joined in the applause that greeted the singing of the -_aria_; only he ceased clapping his hands long before the rest of the -audience had ceased clapping theirs, and then he glanced around with a -look of pained enquiry in his eyes, as if he were the conductor of an -orchestra asking his kettledrums what they meant by continuing their -noise after he had given the signal that the thing was over. - -He made a little motion with his hands when an _encore_ was insisted on, -as though he felt that such an absence of discrimination made him quite -hopeless of such an audience. - -Mr. Morley Quorn, however, took his call, but not too easily, and when -Mr. Tutt struck the first notes of “The Wolf” there were loud tokens -of approval heard on all sides; for Morley’s treatment of the panoramic -effects of this song was well known to Framsby. While the horrors of -the situation were being dealt with vocally, Kelton was wise enough -to contain himself, and the basso went off the platform with an air of -triumph. - -Rosa looked into Priscilla’s face and smiled; but Priscilla did not -return her smile. She could not think that the fact of Morley Quorn’s -having come brilliantly out of the ordeal in any way exculpated Mr. -Kelton for that sneering laugh of his. - -But Mr. Kelton had not yet exhausted his resources of irritation, -for when Mr. Mozart Tutt sat down to the piano to play the “Moonlight -Sonata,” instead of joining heartily in the greeting that the conductor -received, as any one with any sense would have done, in order to give -the audience to understand that, however he might differ from Mr. Tutt -on certain points in playing an accompaniment, he was still -generous enough to recognize the man’s merit when displayed in -other channels--instead of doing this, with emphasis, he yawned -ostentatiously, tilting back his chair, with his hand over his mouth. -Then he began to talk to the man beside him, and a little later he -smiled down upon Priscilla in the third row and signalled something -to her, afterwards lying back and laughing up to the ceiling, and, on -recovering himself, assuming a bored look, and taking out his watch and -putting it to his ear as if to satisfy his doubts as to the accuracy of -its registration of an inexpressibly dull five minutes. - -Mrs. Caffyn was not a very observant woman, but she made up her mind -that she would never again write a letter of entreaty to Mr. -Kelton concerning her concert. Even though the patronage of the -Bowlby-Suthersts were reserved, still she would not bore him again. - -The tenor’s two songs had no place in the first part of the programme, -and he did not resume his seat on the platform after the interval -between the parts. He always took care that his entrance was made at the -effective moment--when the audience had become warmed up, but not weary; -and of course Priscilla had to leave her place in the body of the hall -to await his moment in the little room where tea was brewed upon -the occasion of some festivity involving the brewing of tea and the -distribution of buns. Here she sat with Mr. Kelton and a couple of -“soprani,” as they were styled in the programme, whom Mr. Kelton made -laugh by his clever imitation of Mr. Morley Quorn’s “Wolf.” He was under -the impression, he said, that no concert direction was in so bad a way -but that they could keep “The Wolf” from the door. But then Framsby was -a funny place altogether. Fancy “Honour and Arms,” “The Wolf,” and that -blessed “Moonlight Sonata” all in one evening! There was no other town -known to him where so old-fashioned a programme would be tolerated. - -Then he cleared his throat, and ran up the scale once or twice as he had -heard artists do while waiting for their turn. - -“Are you in good voice, Mr. Kelton?” enquired Priscilla. “Your song is -the next.” - -He smiled. - -“My dear young lady,” he said, “I am not like one of those tenors of -long ago who could never be depended on from one day to another--Sims -Reeves, you know--people of that stamp. No, I am always to be depended -on. I am always at my best.” - -“And never nervous?” she suggested. - -“I don’t know what nerves are,” he replied. - -And then they heard the sound of the applause that marked the finish -of the duet which, in the programme, preceded “In the Land of Sleep.” - Priscilla jumped up from her seat. Mr. Kelton rose with the smile of a -man of leisure and gave a self-satisfied glance at the little mirror. He -improved the set of his collar by a deft little push and then saw to his -cuffs. - -“Don’t be in a hurry; there’s plenty of time,” he remarked to Priscilla. -He had no idea of falling into line with the ordinary amateurs who aimed -at expedition. He knew the importance of making an audience slightly -impatient for his appearance. He even knew the value of opening the door -leading on to the platform and allowing it to close again--giving them a -false alarm or two after a prolonged delay. He smiled at Priscilla g it -when, after that trick of opening the door and closing it on a blank, -there was a movement among the people in the hall. But this was just -where Priscilla drew the line. She detested being associated with such -trickery. She pulled open the door and walked on to the platform alone, -making a straight line to the piano, and acknowledging in no way the -warm greeting of the audience. - -She had spoiled his _entree_, and he was well aware of this fact. The -audience had wasted their applause upon her; he only came in for the -tail end of it. And he was not artist enough to be able at a moment’s -notice to hide his discomfiture under the ingratiating smile of the -professional, which is supposed to make the most critical audience -become genial. His smile was the leer of a Cherokee when his successful -opponent is removing his scalp. - -Priscilla spread out the paper of the music and struck the first chord -of the accompaniment. At the right moment the singer’s voice came in, -and he meandered through the stanza, reaching up for his high note -in the repetition of the refrain and taking it easily. There was a -considerable amount of applause at this point, and upon that applause -Priscilla the pianist had counted, when she ran pleasantly into that -very expressive “symphony” which every one knows makes so effective a -link from stanza to stanza of “In the Land of Sleep.” The accompaniment -was still running along soothingly and dreamily when the vocalist -once more took up the theme, and was perfectly well satisfied with his -treatment of it until he got to the refrain. Then he became aware of the -fact that his voice was rather strained. He felt that he must make an -effort to do that high note, and when the moment came, he strained. He -did not quite achieve it; every one that had ears to hear knew that he -was flat; and he knew it himself. He found it necessary to resist the -temptation--for the first time--of holding the note, and he finished the -refrain in a hurry. Led by the Bowlby-Suthersts, however, the audience -gave some applause to the second stanza; and once again Priscilla -was grateful for it. She flashed into the introduction to the third -stanza--the showy one, with the high A introduced twice, the second time -with a grace-note that adds to its effect. - -But it soon became plain that the vocalist, if he had never before known -what nervousness meant, was quickly learning something of this mystery. -It seemed as if his voice was becoming tired, and once there was -actually a suggestion of breaking down. But then Mr. Kelton pulled -himself together, lifted up his chin, and boldly attacked the refrain. -In an instant it became certain that he would never be able to touch the -high notes. For some reason or other, which was plain only to Mr. Mozart -Tutt and a few other musicians who were present, Mr. Kelton’s voice had -lost some notes out of its range. He slurred over the lower notes on the -principle of an aeronaut throwing out a sandbag or two, in order that he -might get up higher. He went up and up and then made a bold attempt to -squeeze out the A by some means. The result sounded like the quivering -shriek of a leaky steam whistle. No one, however, knew exactly what it -was like, the fact being that its vibrations were drowned by the shrieks -of laughter of the school girls in the gallery, and in another instant -these infectious sounds had spread to the body of the hall, and there -was a whole minute of irrepressible merriment; even the honest attempt -made by some of the boys from the grammar school to suggest a natural -parallel to Mr. Kelton’s note, failed to restore order; but this was -only to be expected, considering that there was a serious difference -of opinion among these authorities as to the direction in which the -equivalent was to be found, a large and important section maintaining -sturdily that the farmyard at the break of day provided a variety of -such notes (examples given); while the lower forms rather more than -hinted at their impression that not dawn but moonlight was made vocal -with such sounds--moonlight and tiles, or perhaps a garden wall. - -Mr. Kelton was unable to profit by this purely academical discussion, or -to give his casting vote to decide which of the theories--equally well -supported by the disputants--was the more plausible. His weird shriek -had struck terror even to his own soul--the ravening howl of Morley -Quorn’s old “Wolf” sounded domestic by comparison--and with a gasp he -had crumpled up the pages of his music and dashed the parcel at his -feet, making a rush for the door, through which he went, closing it -with an echoing bang that deprived the scene of the last shred of -seriousness, and Mr. Kelton of the last shred of sympathy which his -misfortune may have tended to excite among the audience. - -Miss Wadhurst, every one agreed, had behaved nobly under the ordeal to -which she, as (to some extent) a participant in the fiasco, had been -subjected. She showed that she was doing her best to mask the retreat -of the tenor by limbering up and bringing into action all the heavy -artillery within the compass of her piano, and she was smiling so -good-naturedly all the time that soon the cat-calls and cock-crowing -merged into applause. When she rose from the instrument with a laugh, -and took her call, nodding to the boys in the distance, she received an -ovation, and made a graceful retreat to a chair just below the altos of -the chorus. - -In another minute Mr. Mozart Tutt was tapping with his _bâton_ on the -music stand, the members of the chorus sprang to their feet, and order -came about quite naturally while “When the Wind Bloweth in from the Sea” - was being charmingly sung by the choir; and the remaining details of an -admirably selected programme were tastefully performed. - -The performing members of the choir seemed extremely well satisfied with -themselves, especially the “bassi”; but Mr. Morley Quorn wore a solemn -look, while his friends were inclined to be jocular. He was wondering -if, in spite of the verdict of science and the agnostic trend of modern -thought, there was not such a thing as retributive justice. He felt -strongly on the vexed question of “lessons.” Surely the downfall of -Mr. Kelton the tenor should convey to the most careless of amateurs the -necessity for the maintenance of a spirit of meekness even though he may -be able (upon ordinary occasions) to produce the high A. Mr. Quorn tried -to feel subdued; so that when young Titmus assured him that he had never -sung “The Wolf” with greater effect, he only shook his head. - -He had no notion that the administration of the valuable “lesson” - was due solely to the cleverness of Miss Wadhurst, who had seen great -possibilities in that picturesque “symphony” in the accompaniment. It -was very daring of her to run the chance of such applause greeting the -finish of each stanza as should enable her to raise the key in which the -song was set, without being detected. She knew that Mr. Kelton would be -too greatly absorbed in himself to notice the modulation until it -should be too late; but she was not so sure of some other people on -the platform. It seemed, however, that no one had detected her manouvre -except Mr. Tutt. She caught his eye when she was in the act of rising -from the piano, and she perceived that he knew all. - -That was why she tried to avoid him when she was leaving the platform, -letting her steps drag behind the choir. She failed in her object this -time, for he waited for her. - -“I was lost in admiration,” he murmured. “It never occurred to me. -Anyhow, I never should have had the courage to try it on. You must have -worked pretty hard at the thing last night. You have been well grounded. -I couldn’t have worked out the double transposition in the time. And -then you had to trust to your memory.” - -“I meant to teach him a lesson,” murmured Priscilla. - -“And you have done it! My word, you have done it. He caught the last -train to Sherningham, starting just as he was. His suit case is to be -sent after him. I could hear him shaking off the dust of Framsby from -his feet. He did it very soundly in the vestibule--a regular cloud of -it. A lesson! My word! a lesson!” - - - - -CHAPTER III - -Of course Priscilla confessed to her friend Rosa by what means she had -encompassed the downfall of Mr. Kelton. Rosa was not much of a musician, -and it seemed to her quite wonderful that any one could perform such -a feat as the transposition of a song within the space of twenty-four -hours, and then not shrink from playing the modulated version from -memory. - -“It had to be done,” said Priscilla firmly. “How could I stand by and -hear that conceited man--but there was a clever man--a Frenchman of -course--who said ‘a tenor is not a man but a disease.’ I wonder why it -is that so many girls simply worship a tenor. Dr. Needham says it dates -back to primeval man and primeval woman, All singing, he says, is simply -primeval man calling to primeval woman to come out for a walk in -the moonlight. And that’s why the most favourite songs nowadays are -love-songs--tenor love-songs--languishing things--I hate them!” - -“It served that horrid man right,” said Rosa. She did not show herself -to be greatly interested in the theories of Dr. Needham; but she was -intensely interested in the humiliation of a man who was horrid. “I -should like to be able to do just what you did. Men want to be taken -down dreadfully; but if a girl ever rises to do it she is looked on as -horrid herself.” - -“And she usually is,” said Priscilla. “I have sometimes felt that it was -very horrid of me to play that trick upon that odious Mr. Kelton. Who -am I that I should set myself up to avenge his insults in regard to Mr. -Tutt? I have heard a little voice whispering in my ear.” - -“You were quite right. Besides--” here Rosa made a little -pause--“besides, haven’t you very good reason to--to--well, I meant that -you were very badly treated by men, Priscilla dear.” - -“Only by one man,” said Priscilla quickly. “Only by one.” - -“And isn’t that enough? It’s a shame that one man should have it in his -power to wreck the life of a girl.” - -“It does seem to be a shame. But what’s the good of complaining? A -woman has always been the bearer of burdens, and if she complains she is -treated worse than ever. I’m not sure that in the old days--before there -was any thought of convention or religion, which is only another form -of convention--a woman was much better off than she is now. To be sure, -when she found that she had married the wrong man she had it in her -power to run away with the right one, or the nearest approach to the -right one that she could find. I have now and again wondered during the -past year why I shouldn’t run away to another man and try to patch up -this wrecked life of mine.” - -“Why shouldn’t you? It would only be fair and just; but you never would -do it, Priscilla.” - -“Why should I not? I believe that I would do it if only the right man -turned up.” - -“If he would let you do it he would not be the-right man.” - -“I’m not so sure of that. The best men--the greatest men--the -bravest--the cleverest--the most devout men have never been -over-particular when it came to a question of women. I believe if I -were really to fall in love with a man I would do as so many of the best -women in the world have done--I would go to him, and let convention and -religion go hang.” - -“Don’t tell me. You would do nothing of the sort. But do you really -feel so strongly about being married? I think, you know, that since you -worked out your plan of teaching Mr. Kelton a lesson you seem to be a -different girl, but still----” - -“My dear Rosa, don’t let any one try to tell you that there’s any life -for a woman in this world apart from a man. There’s not. And don’t let -any one try to convince you that there’s any life for a man without a -woman by his side. There’s not.” - -“To play his accompaniments?” - -“Yes, in the right key, mind. That’s just what a woman is placed in the -world to do--to play a man’s accompaniments in the right key. If Mr. -Kelton had a wife by his side he would not now have a sense of being -made a fool of.” - -“He’s probably as conceited as ever by this time. Now how was it that we -went on to talk of men and women when really our topic was Mr. Kelton?” - -“I know. You were about to say that no one should think hardly of me for -making a fool of any man, considering how great a fool I was made by a -man. That was what was in your mind; but you were wrong, Rosie dear, for -I don’t think at all bitterly of men. On the contrary, I tell you -that you must be prepared for the worst--what your father and other -professional moralists would call the worst--from me. I’m only an -amateur moralist. In fact, I’m not quite sure that I should even call -myself an amateur. I don’t really know that I have any morals whatever.” - -“You have no need for any. What do girls like you or me know of morals?” - -“Nothing, except those we got hold of when we read Fontaine’s Fables at -school.” - -“And then we always skipped or slurred over the ‘morals’--they spoilt -the story.” - -“They did, and that is what they do every day; they spoil our stories. -Oh, what idiots we are--a couple of girls who have seen nothing in the -world and know nothing in the world, moralizing on morals! I’m not sure -that it isn’t immoral to discuss morality, Rosa. I should like to have -the opinion of a specialist on this point.” - -“Try Miss Southover.” - -“A maiden schoolmistress who makes a thousand a year by teaching girls -how to be at once dignified and dunces! She would be too shocked to be -able to give an opinion. No, I should apply to a man of the world--a -bishop, or at least a rural dean. Now I have done with this subject. I -didn’t go very far, did I? A year ago I’m pretty sure I wouldn’t have -gone even so far.” - -“Poor old Pris!” - -“You may say that. I feel to-day as old as your grandmother. And I have -been thinking--oh, what thinking! I know what there is in me, Rosa. If -ever any girl was made to be a help to a man, that girl was me. And am -I, because I allowed myself to be made a fool of--am I therefore bound -to do nothing with my life--nothing, only to live it--to live my life -apart from all that makes life life?” - -“Poor old Pris! There never was any one who had half your bad luck!” - -“You may say that. But you needn’t think that I have done with life yet. -I haven’t.” - -“That’s what I love about you, Priscilla. You are so rebellious! You -are not one of the tame ones who submit to what they call the will of -Providence.” - -“I think too highly of Providence to believe that its will is that my -life should be wrecked by no fault of my own--no fault except obedience. -It was my obedience that made me what I am to-day, and upon my word I -don’t believe that my punishment is out of proportion to my offence.” - -“Your offence? But you never----” - -“I did. I ceased to be myself. I put myself behind myself and allowed -myself to be led like a lamb to the slaughter--the slaughter of that -womanhood which I should have upheld--my womanhood, which meant the -right to think for myself--the right to be a woman to love a man, and -help him in his life and be loved by him and to give him children. That -is how love is immortal--our children live after us, and our children’s -children!... No more obedience for me, thanks; I mean to live my life. -That’s all!” - -“I’ll tell you what I think, Priscilla----” Rosa allowed a considerable -interval to elapse before she spoke. “I’ll tell you what I think, and -that is, that the awfulness of the past year has made a woman of you in -this way.” - -Priscilla seemed a little startled by the enunciation of this theory. -She looked quickly at her companion, and then laughed queerly. - -“God is too busy making worlds, universes and that, to have a moment to -spare to a woman,” said she. “No, it is the man who makes the woman; -and be sure that if the woman is made by the man, the man is made by -the woman--by the woman and by the children that she gives him. And -yet--here we are.” - -“Yes,” said Rosa, “here we are. Oh, there is one thing certain: God made -primroses.” - - - - -CHAPTER IV - -They had been walking along the narrow hilly road that branched off -from the broad highway between the little town of Framsby and the -villages of Dean Grange, Beastlington, and Elfrisleigh, and now they -were standing on the ridge of the Down that overlooked the lovely valley -of the Wadron. The day was one toward the end of April, when everything -in nature, including men and women and healthy girls, feels stirred with -the impulses of the Spring, and while all fancy they are living only -in the joy of the present, they are yet giving their thoughts to the -future. Everything in nature was showing signs of thinking of the -future. The early flowers were looking after themselves, doing their -best to offer allurements to the insects which they trusted to -carry their love tokens for them from stamen to pistil; and the pale -butterflies became messenger Cupids all unconsciously. But the birds -were doing their own love-making. Every bough was vocal, every brake -quivered in harmony. In that green lane there was the furtive flutter of -wings. Some nests had been built and padded for the eggs, and here and -there a stranger looking carefully through the interspaces among -the glossy leaves could see the glitter of the beady eye of a hiding -blackbird, and, with greater pains, the mottling of a thrush’s throat. -Love-making and home-making on all sides--this is what the Spring meant, -and it was probably because she was so closely in touch with the season -and its instincts that one of the girls had spoken out some of the -thoughts that made her warm as though her thoughts were infants of the -Spring, to be cherished very close to her body. - -They stood at that part of the road which bridged one of the tributary -streams that went down to the Wadron, losing itself for many yards where -it crept among the bosky slopes nearest to the road, but making its -course apparent by many a twinkle of quick water, and now and again by -a crystal pool, overflowing among mossy stones and cascading where there -was a broad steep rock. Again it disappeared among the wilderness of -bramble, but when one looked for its continuation, its glistening, not -directly downward, but many yards to one side, gave one a glad surprise. - -And all its course was marked by primroses. The park through which it -flowed was carpeted with primroses, and all the distance of the valley -was tinted with ten thousand tufts. Only on one of the high banks of the -parkland, where the pines stood in groups, was the brown earth covered -with a haze of bluebells. Close though this bank was to the road, it was -picked over with rabbit burrows, and when the girls came near there was -a scurrying of brown and a flicker of white among the bluebells and the -ferns. - -“It is getting wilder and wilder,” said Rosa. - -“Thank goodness!” added Priscilla. “It was the wisest thing that ever -the owner did, to die and keep every one out of it for all these years.” - -“Yes, so far as we are concerned,” said Rosa. “We have got more out of -the place than any one else.” - -“You would have been a visitor to the Manor in any case,” said -Priscilla; “but what chance would I have had? Well, I might have come in -under the shelter of your wing, not otherwise.” - -“Perhaps the son’s wife might not have been so stuck up as the rest of -the people in our neighbourhood,” remarked Rosa, consolingly. - -Priscilla laughed. - -“I think I should take their--their--standoffishness more to heart if -you were not here, Rosa,” said Priscilla, thoughtfully “What shall I do -when you go away?” - -“Go away? I heard nothing about my going away.” - -“I hear a good deal about it to-day from the birds, and the sheep, and -all the other voices of the Spring. They have talked about nothing else -all the morning.” - -Rosa looked at her anxiously for some moments. Then she gave a sound -that had something of contempt in it, crying, “What rot! My dear girl, -you know as well as I do that I have no intention of going away--that -I do not bother my head with any notion of--of that sort of thing. I am -quite content to remain here. It would take a lot of coaxing to carry -me away. Come along now, I don’t trust strangers, and I certainly don’t -trust April weather, and I certainly don’t trust that cloud that puts a -black cap on Beacon Hill. If we are to get our baskets full in time we -would do well not to wait here sentimentalizing.” - -She led the way on the road by the park fence, and Priscilla was still -behind her when they went round the curve, where the road had been -widened in front of the pillars that supported a pair of well-worn -entrance gates. Lodges were on each side, picturesque sexagonal -cottages, their shape almost undiscernible through the straggling mass -of the creepers that covered them. - -“Do you remember the pheasants’ eggs?” whispered Rosa, when they had -gone through the gates and had just passed the lodges. - -“I am trying my best to forget them,” replied Priscilla. “How awful it -would be if I accidentally spoke of that omelette in the hearing of some -one who would mention it to Mr. Dunning!” - -“It would be awful!” acquiesced Rosa. - -Their exchange of confidences related to the hospitality of the wife of -one of the keepers, who occupied the lodge on the right. One day during -the previous year the girls had been drenched in the park, and while -they were drying their clothes the good woman, who had been a cook at -the Manor, made them an omelette, using pheasants’ eggs, of which quite -a number were in her larder awaiting consumption. - -“It was a nice omelette,” said Priscilla, “but it made me feel that old -Mr. Wingfield mightn’t have been so wise after all in allowing the place -to remain unoccupied for so long.” - -Signs of neglect were to be observed on all sides--not by any means the -neglect that suggests the Court of Chancery or an impoverished owner; -merely the neglect that is the result of the absence of any one -interested in the maintenance of tidiness. The broad carriage drive was -a trifle green, where fresh gravel was needed, and the grass borders had -become irregular. The enormous bough that had broken away from the trunk -of one of the elms of the avenue was lying just where it had fallen, -sprawling halfway across the drive, and much of the timber shielding of -a sapling had been broken down by some animal and remained unmended, so -that the bark of the young tree had been injured. These tokens that some -one had been saying “What does it matter?” a good many times within the -year, were not the only ones to be seen within the grounds; and when -Priscilla pointed them out to Rosa, she too said, “What does it matter? -Who is there to make a row? You don’t expect them to keep the place tidy -for us?” - -Priscilla said that nothing was further from her expectations, but still -she thought--but of course beggars can’t be choosers, and after all a -primrose by the river’s brim was still a yellow primrose, and a joy to -the cottage hospital. - -“And a black cloud is a beast of a thing when it bursts,” added Rosa, -pointing to the menace in the distance, above the balloon-like foliage -of the immemorial elms. - -Priscilla shook her head. - -“We’ll do it,” she cried; “yes, if we hurry. I don’t want to get this -frock wet, so we’ll rush for the primroses and shelter at the house. It -will be an April shower, but we’ll dodge it.” - -“No fear,” acquiesced Rosa. - -Down they plunged among the trees of the long slope, at the bottom of -which the trout stream curled among the mossy stones, spreading its -delicate white floss over some, and threading the narrows with a cord of -silk, and then spattering the ferns on each side of a rock that met its -advance too abruptly. - -In a few minutes the girls were among the primroses. They were like the -yellow pattern upon a green carpet at this place, only one could not see -the carpet for the pattern. When the two serviceable baskets were packed -with primroses there did not seem to be a clump the less in this garden -that appeared to be the very throne of Spring itself--the throne and the -golden treasury of the millionaire Spring. - -And all the time that they were filling their baskets the blackbirds -were making music among the bracken on the opposite slope, and once a -great thrush came down with a wild winnowing of wings to a bramble that -swung above the ripples of the water. It sounded its cackling note of -alarm, and before it had ceased a cuckoo was heard as it flew from among -a clump of chestnuts, gorgeous in drapery, to where a solitary ash, not -yet green, stood far away from the billowy foliage of the slope. - -And then the sunlit land became aware of a shadow sweeping up the -valley. The rumble of thunder came from the distance. - -“We’re in for it!” cried Rosa, springing up from the carpet where she -had been kneeling. - -“We’ll be in for it, as fast as we make ourselves--in the porch at -least,” shouted Priscilla, catching up her basket and making a run for -the zig-zag track up the bank. She was followed by Rosa with all speed, -but before they got to the carriage drive at the top the first drops -were making kettledrums of the crowns of their straw hats, and once -again the organ of the orchestra was beginning to peal. - -They gathered up their print skirts and ran like young does for the -shelter of the house. It was an example of dignified Georgian, with a -pillared porch and square windows. People said there was no nonsense -about Overdean Manor; and others remarked that that was a pity. The -front was masked by trees from the carriage drive. Some people said that -it was just as well that this was so; it gave the horses a chance. No -horse could maintain a trot in view of so dignified a front. - -But it had an ample porch, and into its sheltering embrace the two girls -plunged with only breath enough left for their laughter. - -“Not a dozen drops,” they gasped, pinching each other’s blouses at -their arms. “Actually not a dozen drops--practically dry--but hot--oh, -goodness, wasn’t it hot!” And now they were going to have it in earnest. - -They had it in earnest, but only as a spectacle. They were glowing after -their race, but the porch contained no seats, and so they leant against -the pillars and looked out at the rollicking Spring storm. It came with -all the overdone vehemence of a practical jester--a comical bellow and -a swirl and a swish; the topmost branches began complaining of -their ill-treatment, bending and waving at first gracefully, then -wildly--panic-stricken. Then the rain came--a comical flood suggesting -the flinging of buckets of water--the rough play of grooms in the -stable yard. The air became dark where the first swish of the rain swept -by--dark and silent among the trees, while that madcap wind rushed on -and made its fun on the fringe of the plantation. Out of the darkness a -flash, and out of the distance a bombastic roar of thunder, but not the -thunder of a storm that meant devastation; it was more like the laughter -of good-humoured gods over some boy’s joke--something that had to do -with the bursting of a cistern, or the turning on of a standpipe in the -centre of a score of unsuspecting gentlemen wearing tall hats. The -girls joined in the laughter of that boisterous thunder; but only for -a moment. They became aware of an extraordinary pause--the suspicious -silence of a room where the schoolboys are in hiding and ready to jump -out on you. Then came the sound of a mighty rushing in the air that -was not the rushing of the wind. Half-a-dozen rooks whirled in a -badly-balanced flight across the tops of the nearest trees, cawing -frantically; and the next instant they were seen by the girls like fish -in the tanks of an aquarium. The world had become a world of waters. -They were looking out upon a solid wall of water, and a hurricane of -hail made up the plate glass in front of the tank. - -They watched its changes for the five minutes that it lasted, and the -lightning became more real and the thunder more in earnest. Then it went -slamming away into the distance, leaving the big sweep of the carriage -drive in front of the house the glistening lake of a minute, and -transforming the Georgian mansion into an Alpine mountain of innumerable -rushing torrents. It seemed as if a thousand secret springs of water had -been set free in a moment, and all rushing down through their runnels to -the valley. - -“It will all be over in a few minutes, now; but wasn’t it a squelcher -while it lasted!” cried Rosa, taking a cautious step outside to look -round for the rainbow. - -“I knew that we could just dodge it if we were slippy,” said Priscilla. -“I wish we had some place to sit down.” - -“Not worth while. We’ll be off in a minute.” - -But it soon became plain that they would not be off quite so soon. When -the thunderstorm with its wild blustering had departed, it left behind -it, not the blue sky that might reasonably have been expected, but a -tame flock of clouds that lumbered onward, discharging their contents -upon the earth beneath with no great show of spirit, but with the -depressing persistency of the mediocre. - -“Hopeless!” sighed Priscilla. - -“Horrid!” exclaimed Rosa. - -After a few more minutes of waiting, the word “hungry” followed in -alliterative sequence from both of them. - -“If we could get round to Mrs. Pearce we might have some bread and -butter,” suggested Rosa. (Mrs. Pearce was the name of the caretaker, and -her premises were naturally at the other side of the Georgian mansion.) - -“If we made a rush for the lodge we might have some plovers’ eggs,” said -Priscilla. - -Rendered desperate and, consequently, courageous by the thought of such -dainties, one of the pair suggested the possibility of attracting the -attention of the caretaker by ringing the door bell. The idea was a -daring one, but they felt that their situation was so desperate as to -make a desperate remedy pardonable, if reasonably formulated. - -Hallo! there was no need to pull the bell; looking about for the handle, -they found that the hall door was ajar to the extent of four or five -inches. - -“Careless of Mrs. Pearce! We must speak seriously to her about this,” - said Rosa. - -“When we have eaten her bread and butter,” whispered Priscilla, with a -sagacious nod. - -They passed into the great square hall, with its imposing pillars -supporting the beams of the ceiling, and then they stopped abruptly, for -they found themselves confronted by a vivid smell of tobacco smoke. - -“Has Mother Pearce been indulging?” whispered Rosa. - -“Oh, dear, no; it’s not that sort of tobacco,” replied the sagacious -Priscilla. “No; it only means that Mr. Dunning has been paying a visit -of inspection.” - -(Mr. Dunning was the agent of the estate.) - -They passed without further hesitation through the tobacco barrier, and -seeing one of the doors open just beyond, they pushed through it and -entered the room which they knew to be the library. They had been in -the house more than once, before the days of its emptiness, and so knew -their way about it. - -“Hallo! we’re in luck,” said Rosa, pointing to where the table was laid -with a cloth and plates, bread, cheese, biscuits, lettuce, and actually -plovers’ eggs. There was, however, only one knife and fork, only one -glass, and only one bottle--it was a bottle of hock, and Rosa hastened -to read its label--Liebfraumilch. - -“Mr. Dunning is here on business and is having a scratch lunch,” said -Priscilla. “Liebfraumilch is a lovely wine, taking it year in and year -out. Of course there are exceptionally good years of Liebfraumilch; but -taking it all round it is a good sound wine.” - -“_Vide_ auctioneer’s catalogue,” said Rosa. “But I decline to touch it, -highly recommended though it is by a distinguished canootzer. I’ll have -of that bread, however, une trauche, s’il vous plait, and I’ll poach a -couple of those eggs, if I do get three months for it. How funny! Didn’t -I say something about plovers’ eggs just now?” - -“I’d be afraid to meddle with the eggs, but I’ll back you up in the -matter of the bread and cheese; I’m fairly starving. On the whole, -perhaps we would do well to hunt up Mrs. Pearce first. It’s as well to -be ceremonial even in a house that you have broken into by stealth. If -you take so much as a bite of that egg before we can start level, I’ll -cut you up into such small slices.” - -The knife which Priscilla had picked up for the purpose which she had -but partly defined, fell from her hand. A sound had come from the big -hooded chair in the shadow of the screen at the fireplace, and she had -glanced round and seen, looking round the side of the chair at her, a -man’s face. - -The knife fell from her grasp at the startling sight. Rosa, following -the direction of her gaze, turned round and saw the apparition; but she -did not let fall the egg which she had taken up for critical inspection. - -There was an awkward silence, but an effective tableau, had any one been -present to see it. There was the large square room, with bookcases of -the loveliest Chippendale design hiding all its walls, and at one side -of the table stood a young woman, with a face beautifully rosy, and -a mouth slightly open to complete the expression of astonishment -that looked forth from her eyes; at the end of the table nearest the -fireplace, another girl glancing over her shoulder at the man’s face -that protruded beyond the line of downward slope at one side of the -chair. - -Perhaps the expression of astonishment on the man’s face was the -strongest of the three. His mouth was quite wide open, and his eyes were -staring curiously, with a look within them that suggested that he had -not quite succeeded in taking in the details of the picture before -him--that he had not succeeded in reconciling all that he saw with the -actualities of life. - -Both the girls perceived in a moment that he had just awakened; but this -fact did not prevent their being paralysed for the moment--for several -moments. The moments went on into minutes, until the whole thing had the -note of the child’s game of “Who speaks first?” - -It was this broadening of an impressive silence into a child’s comedy -that was the saving of the situation. A smile, to which his open mouth -lent itself quite readily, came over the young man’s face--he was -a young man, and his face was still younger--and, after a maidenly -hesitancy of a few seconds, the girls also smiled. His smile broadened -into a grin, and both girls broke into a peal of laughter. - -He pulled himself round in his chair and got upon his feet, still -grinning, and then they saw that he was just what girls accustomed to -tall men would call short, or what girls accustomed to short men would -call medium-sized. He had very short hair of an indefinite shade of -brown, and his mouth, when he grinned, was well proportioned, if it was -designed to make a gap touching the lobe of each ear. - -He stood up before them and shook himself out, as it seemed, after the -manner of a newly awakened dog. Then he took in a reef or two (also -speaking figuratively) of his mouth, and it became quite ordinary. He -bowed as awkwardly as most men do in ordinary circumstances, and this -fact was pleasing to the girls; no girl who is worth anything tolerates -a man who makes a graceful bow. - -“This is an unexpected pleasure,” he said. “That is--for me; it can’t be -the same for you--that is, of course it’s unexpected, but little enough -of the pleasure. Only if I had known--you didn’t say you were coming, -you know--maybe you are in the habit of coming every day.” - -The girls shook their heads; both glanced toward the window. He followed -their example. - -“Gloriana!” he said, “it has been raining after all.” - -“Yes,” said Priscilla. “It has been a thunderstorm--a terrible -thunderstorm!” - -“You don’t say so! Long ago?” - -“Half an hour ago. You must have heard it--the hail was terrific!” - continued Priscilla. - -“Gloriana! I’m afraid I’ve given myself away. If I said I wasn’t asleep -I suppose you wouldn’t believe me.” - -He looked from one to the other as if to guess whether of the twain -was the more charitable or the more likely to make a fool of herself by -telling a lie that would take in no one. He could not make up his mind -on either point; and so he illuminated the silence by another grin. -The girls looked at each other; they could hardly be blamed; and they -certainly were not blamed by him. - -He became quite serious in a moment, and his mouth seemed actually -normal. - -“I think that I’m rather lucky, do you know, in awaking to find such -visitors--my first visitors--the first people to give me a welcome in -my house. Before I have slept a single night under its roof--only for a -matter of half an hour, and that in the day--I have two visitors. I hope -that you will let me bid you welcome and that you will welcome me. -May we exchange cards? My name is Wingfield--Jack Wingfield. I am the -grandson, you know. You didn’t take me for the grandfather, did you?” - - - - -CHAPTER V - -WE never heard that you were coming--not a word,” said Rosa. - -“Not a word,” echoed Priscilla. “We have enjoyed permission from -Mr. Dunning to walk in the park and to pluck the wild flowers and -blackberries and things like that. That was why we came to-day.” - -“Let me see; isn’t it a bit too early for blackberries?” said he. - -“Yes; but not for primroses,” said Rosa. - -“Nor for lunch,” said he. “Did I dream that I heard one of you--if not -both--say that this house should be called Starvation Hall?” - -They both laughed. - -“Not exactly,” said Priscilla. - -“Well, words to that effect,” he cried. “Anyhow, whether you did or not, -you’ll never say it again. Here comes Mrs. Pearce--of course you know -Mrs. Pearce. I needn’t introduce her to you.” - -“Oh, we all know Mrs. Pearce,” cried Rosa, as the caretaker entered, -bearing a tray and a smell of a grill. - -“Then she can introduce you to me,” said he. - -Mrs. Pearce, red of face and opulent of bust, stood for a moment as one -amazed, looking from the young women to the young man. - -“Good morning, Mrs. Pearce,” cried Rosa. - -“Good morning, Miss Rosa--Miss Caffyn,” said the woman, nearly dropping -the tray in her attempt to drop a curtsey--the curtsey of the charity -school girl to a member of the Rector’s family. - -“Good morning,” said Priscilla. - -“Good morning, Miss Wadhurst.” - -“Thank you, Mrs. Pearce,” said the man, as she laid down her tray on -the table. “Do you think you could add to your favours by hunting out -a couple more plates and knives and forks, and, above all, glasses? I -quite forgot to tell you that I had sent out invitations to lunch. My -first guests have arrived.” - -“Please do not trouble; bread and cheese for us,” cried Priscilla. - -“What about that plover’s egg that you were trifling with--oh, I see -you have laid it quietly back on the dish,” he remarked, with an -ingratiating smile in the direction of Rosa. - -“I’m afraid,” murmured Mrs. Pearce--“I’m afraid that--that----” - -She was looking in the direction of the covered dish on the tray. - -“I’m not,” cried he. He lifted off the cover and displayed the twin -halves of a chicken beautifully grilled. “She’s afraid that there isn’t -enough to go round!” He pointed to the dish. “Gloriana! as if I could -eat all that off my own bat! Do hurry about those plates--and, above -all, don’t forget the glasses. Can you guess what the name of this hock -is?” he added, turning to Rosa. - -“It’s Liebfraumilch, and you were not asleep after all,” cried the girl, -rosy and smiling. - -“Not after all, but just before,” he said reassuringly, placing chairs -at the table also with a good deal of assurance. But he was not so -engrossed by the occupation as to fail to see the glances exchanged -between the girls--glances of doubt, shot through with the enquiry, -“Should we?” - -“What a day it is turning out, and the morning looked so fine,” said he, -not gloomily, but cheerfully. “Won’t you sit down? The spatchcock’s all -right, only it takes offence if it isn’t eaten at once.” - -“I don’t see why we shouldn’t,” said Rosa boldly to her friend. The man -turned his head away to enable her to do so--a movement that displayed -tact and not tactics. - -“You are extremely kind, Mr. Wingfield,” said Priscilla very formally. -“I don’t suppose that we are quite in line with the precepts of the book -of etiquette; and, besides, we have no business to deprive you of your -lunch and----” - -“And sleep,” murmured Rosa. - -That finished the formally-worded apology. Before their triolet of -laughter had passed away they were all seated at the table, and Mrs. -Pearce had brought in the requisite crockery and cutlery. She did not -forget the glasses. She beamed confidently upon the girls as if she was -endeavouring to assure them that she was a mother herself, and that she -would be at hand in case she should hear screams. - -He showed some dexterity in carving his spatchcock. They kept their eyes -on him, with a protest ready if he should leave nothing for himself; but -they had no need of such vigilance, and their protest was uncalled for. -He was quite fair to them and to himself, and witnessing his tact once -more they became still more at their ease. - -“The day doesn’t seem quite so hopeless now as it did a quarter of an -hour ago,” he remarked, when they had all praised the cooking of Mrs. -Pearce. “Nothing seems the same when a chap has done himself well in the -eating and drinking line--especially the drinking. I don’t wonder that -crimes are committed when people haven’t enough to eat.” - -“I wonder if having too little to eat or too much to drink is most -responsible,” said Priscilla. - -“Meaning that it’s about time I opened that bottle?” said he. “Now, I -can’t think that either of you is under the influence of a temperance -lecturer; but if you are, you’ll drink all the same to my homecoming.” - -“Delighted, I’m sure,” cried Rosa. “There’s no nicer thing to drink than -Liebfraumilch, when it’s of the right year.” - -“I was under the impression,” said he, scrutinizing the bottom of the -cork, “that taking the bad years with the good, a chap has a better -chance with Liebfraumilch than anything in that line.” - -“I got it all from a catalogue--I have a good memory,” confessed -Priscilla. “I hope it’s true.” - -“A wine merchant’s catalogue? Gospel--absolute gospel,” said he -solemnly. - -He poured out half a glass and became more solemn still while he -examined it in breathless silence. He held it up to the light, and the -girls saw that it was a pale flame smouldering in the glass. He gave it -a shake and it became a glorious topaz. - -“A very fair colour indeed,” said he on the completion of these -mysteries, and the girls breathed again. “Yes, I don’t know who laid -it down, but I know who’ll take it up, and every time it will be with a -hope that his grandsire’s halo is as good a colour. The occasion is an -extremely interesting one, and the wine is almost equal to the occasion. -If not, we are. Ladies and gentlemen, it is with feelings of etcetera, -etcetera, that I bring to your notice the toast of the young heir now -come into his inheritance. Long may he reign--I mean long may it rain, -when it was the means of bringing so charming a company round his table, -and so say all of us; with a--I’m extremely obliged to you, and I’ll -respond later on.” - -He had the aspect and the manner of a merry boy. About him there was -a complete absence of self-consciousness. He treated the girls in the -spirit of comradeship, and Priscilla at least felt that he must have -been possessed of a certain gift of intuition to perceive that this -spirit and no other was the one that was appropriate to the occasion; -and moreover that he must have had other gifts that enabled him to -perceive that they were the very girls to appreciate such a form of -unconventional courtesy. He was in no way breezy or free-and-easy in his -manner. He made fun like a schoolboy, never forcing the note; and these -young women knew that he was perfectly natural from the ease with which -they remained natural and with no oppression of self-consciousness in -his company, in spite of the fact that the situation was not merely -unconventional, but within the prohibited degrees of consanguinity, -to indiscreetness, as indiscreetness would be defined by the district -visitor or her relative, Mrs. Grundy. - -These young women, who found themselves taking lunch and drinking -wine--actually hock of a brand that was habitually highly spoken of in -the catalogues--at the invitation and in the house of a young man to -whom they had never been presented, were beginning to feel as if they -had been acquainted with him all their life, and they made an extremely -good meal. The plovers’ eggs vanished when the spatchcock had been -despatched, and the cream cheese and lettuce were still occupying them -when Mrs. Pearce came from the kitchen to find out if all was well, and -if she should serve the coffee in the library or in the drawing-room. - -“Oh, the drawing-room by all means,” cried Mr. Wingfield; and when -she disappeared he whispered, “The good creature has just been to the -drawing-room to take off the covers, I’m sure, and she would never -forgive us if we didn’t go to see how careful she has been of -everything. The only thing about it is that I couldn’t find my way from -here to the drawing-room.” - -“You may depend on us,” said Rosa. - -“I may? Then I place myself unreservedly in your hands,” said he. “I’ll -tell you what we’ll do. You shall show me through the house and tell -me the story of all the rooms--who was killed in which, and where the -celebrated duel was fought--you may, by the aid of a reasonable amount -of imagination, still see the marks of the bullets in the wainscot.” - -“I never heard anything of that,” said Rosa. “A duel? When did it -happen?” - -“What, do you mean to say that there’s no room in this house where -the celebrated duel was fought?” cried he. “And you can assure me that -there’s no picture of an old reprobate who went in the county by the -name of Butcher Wingfield--or was it old Black Jack Wingfield--maybe -Five-bottle Wingfield?” - -“I really can’t tell. All that I can say is that I never heard of any of -them,” said Rosa. - -“This is a nice thing to confront a chap who has just entered into -possession of an old house and, as he hoped, a lot of ready-made -ancestors,” said he mournfully. “Not one of them with any of the -regulation tokens of the old and crusted ancestor about him! But you’ll -at least show me the room that Nell Gwyn slept in--or was it the Young -Pretender?--you’ll show me his initials, Y. P., that he carved on the -eighteenth century panelling of the Priest’s Room with the sliding -panel--you know?” - -“Oh, yes, I know,” laughed Priscilla. “And the ghost of Lady Barbara -that appears to the stranger who has been inadvertently put to sleep -in the Blue Room, and the old chest where the bones were found, and the -tiny pink shoes with genuine Liberty buckles.” - -“You give me hope--the ghost of a hope--I mean the hope of a ghost. I -expected half a dozen at least; but one sees, on reflection, that that -would be unreasonable. I’ll be content with one if you throw the tiny -shoes into the bargain.” - -“I’m afraid that you’ll have to be contented with comfort and a -surveyor’s certificate,” said Priscilla. - -“What I am thinking is, who will give us a certificate that we have been -reasonably engaged when we return home,” remarked Rosa, when they were -rising from the table--he did not offer them cigarettes. - -“Do you really think it possible that your people will be uneasy?” said -he, with some concern in his voice. “It’s still raining. Will they not -be certain that you took shelter somewhere? If there’s any doubt, I’ll -send a message by my motor.” - -“You have brought a motor, and yet you looked for ghosts and things?” - said Priscilla. - -“I came from Barwellstone in it this morning. A nice run. I tried -a railway guide for trains, and found that with luck I could do the -journey in eight hours.” - -“And you did it in twenty minutes by motor?” - -“Twenty-five, in addition to three hours. It’s just ninety-two miles. So -this is the drawing-room? Very nice, I’m sure.” - -They had walked across the hall and had passed through a very fine -mahogany door into another big square room, with exquisite plaster -decorations on the walls and ceiling and mantelpieces, of which there -were two. The eighteenth century furniture was mahogany and upholstered -in faded red damask. The chairs were all uncovered, though the curtains -remained tied up in such a way as caused each to reproduce with -extraordinary clearness the figure of Mrs. Pearce. The transparent -cabinets all round the room were filled with specimens of the art of -Josiah Wedgwood--blue and green and buff and black--beautiful things. - -“This is the Wedgwood drawing-room,” said Priscilla. “It is considered -one of the most perfect things of its kind in the country.” - -“Why the Wedgwood room? Was there a Mr. Wedgwood who planned it?” asked -the owner. - -“There was a Mr. Wedgwood who supplied the china,” said Priscilla. - -“Local--a local man, I suppose--Framsby, or is it Southam?” - -“Oh, no, Wedgwood was not a local man by any means,” replied Priscilla, -wondering in what circles this young man had spent the earlier years of -his life that he had never heard of Wedgwood. - -“Anyhow, it’s quite nice to look at; and here comes the coffee,” said -he. “It’s a queer room--gives even an ignorant chap like me a feeling -that it’s all right--furnished throughout, and not on the hire-purchase -system.” - -Then he drank his coffee and looked about him, and then at his -visitors--first at one and then at the other. They were standing -together at one of the oval windows looking out upon a flagged terrace -with a balustrade and piers and great stone vases of classical design. - -“A really nice room,” he said, as if he were summing up the result -of his survey of the young women. “I think, you know, that I make its -acquaintance in rather happy circumstances,” he added. “I hope I may -consider that you have left cards on me so that I may ask you to dinner -or something. I went into the dining-room the first thing, and then down -to the cellar. I don’t think that the dining-room looks so finished as -this room. I felt a bit uneasy, you know, to see all those frames with -hand-painted ancestors grinning down at me. They seemed to be winking at -one another and whispering, ‘Lord, what a mug!’ I didn’t feel at all at -home among them--pretty bounders they were to make their remarks--silk -coats and satin embroidered waistcoats and powdered hair worn long! -Bounders to a man! I felt a bit lonely among them, and that’s why I told -the woman I should have my plate laid in the library. I didn’t want any -of their cheek. I was thinking what a rather dismal homecoming it was -for me--not a soul to say a word of welcome to a chap. I felt a bit down -on my luck, and I suppose that’s why I fell into that doze. Only five -minutes I could have slept, and when I opened my eyes--I give you my -word I had a feeling--that halfwaking feeling, you know--that it was the -ghosts of two of the nicest of my ancestors come back to say a word -of encouragement to me to make up for the bad manners of those -satin-upholstered ones. I do hate the kind of chap that gets painted in -fancy dress!” - -The notion of the Georgian portraits being in fancy dress sent the young -women into a peal of laughter; and then he laughed too. - -“That’s like coming home,” he said a minute later. “That’s what I looked -for, and if I didn’t feel grateful to you both----” - -“Grateful to the rain, the thunder and lightning,” suggested Rosa. - -“All right, thunder and lightning and rain and all the rest. I’ll have -a greater respect for them in the future; but all the same the gratitude -will go to you. You have turned a failure into a success, and no other -girls would have been able to do so much. They would have giggled and -gone the moment they caught sight of me. Yes, I’m grateful.” - -“And we are glad,” said Priscilla, gently. “And we’re quite sorry -that the rain is over so that we have no excuse for--for--oh, yes, -trespassing on your hospitality.” - -“But you have only shown me one of the rooms, and there are about -forty others, I believe. Think of me getting lost in a rabbit warren of -bedrooms and dressing-rooms and still rooms and sparkling! Wouldn’t it -be on your conscience if you heard of that happening?” - -“Our conscience--Mr. Wingfield takes it for granted that we have only -one conscience between us,” said Priscilla. - -“And perhaps he thinks that he’s generous,” said Rosa. - -They did it very nicely, he thought. They were really very charming--not -a bit like any other girls he had ever met. - -“You don’t need a conscience, I’ll bet,” he said. “What do you ever do -to keep it up to its work?” - -“If we stay here another five minutes it will be working overtime,” - laughed Priscilla. “Good-bye, Mr. Wingfield, and receive our thanks for -shelter, and a--a--most unusual afternoon.” - -“Good-bye. You have done a particularly good turn to a chap to-day, and -don’t you forget it. I’ll go to the door with you.” - -He walked with them to the pillared porch and said another good-bye in a -different key. - -They heard him close the hall door, and they knew that he would have to -go to a window of the dining-room if he wished to watch them departing -on the carriage drive. - -They wondered--each of them on her own account--if he had hurried to -that particular window. - -“He is not so silly as he promised to be the first five minutes we came -upon him,” said Rosa, when they were approaching the entrance gates. - -“Not nearly. As a matter of fact I found him entertaining.” - -“Not intellectually.” - -“Perhaps not. I’m not sure that I am entertained by intellectual -entertainment. He is a man in the clay stage. I’m not sure that that -isn’t the most interesting--it certainly is the most natural. He might -be anything that a woman might choose to make him.” - -“Of course we’ll tell them at home what happened,” said Rosa, after a -long pause. - -“Why should we not? We would do well to be an hour or two in advance of -Mrs. Pearce,” said Priscilla. - -They got upon the road, and were forced to pay attention to its -condition of muddiness rather than to the delight of breathing the sweet -scents of the rain-drenched hedges on each side. They parted at the -cross-roads, and only at that moment remembered that they had left their -primroses in the porch. - -Rosa went in the direction of the town, and Priscilla set her face -toward the slope of the Down in front of her. Before she had gone for -more than half a mile on her way to the farm, she saw a man approaching -her--a middle-aged man in a black coat and leggings rather the worse for -wear. He held up his hand to her while they were still far apart. - -“Something has happened,” she said. “It cannot be that he became uneasy -at my absence.” Then they met. “What is it, father?” she asked quickly. - -“Dead--he is dead--the man is dead!” he said in a low voice. - -“Dead--Marcus Blaydon--dead--are you sure?” - -“Quite sure,” he replied. - -“Thank God!” she said, speaking her words as though she were breathing a -sigh of great relief. - -And so she was; she was speaking of her husband. - - - - -CHAPTER VI - -There came a dreadful misgiving to her. She clutched her father’s arm -as they stood together on the road. - -“You are sure?” she said in a low voice, with her eyes looking at -him with something of fierceness in their expression. “There is no -mistake--no possibility of a mistake? Remember what the man was--a -trickster--unscrupulous--you are sure? Is that a letter--a paper?” - -“A paper,” he said--“several papers. There can be no doubt about it. And -don’t speak ill of him now, Priscilla. You will be sorry for it. He died -the death of a man. However bad his life may have been, he made up for -it in his death.” - -“A hero?” she said, and she was smiling so that her father was angered. - -“I would not have believed it of you; it is unnatural,” he said. “Have -you no sense of what’s proper--what’s decent?” - -“I have no sense that makes me be a hypocrite,” she said. “The man -cheated me--he was within an hour or two of making me the most pitiful -creature. As it was he made me the laughing-stock of the world. No one -thought of my misfortune in being married to an impostor, a criminal, -and having my life ruined by him. Every one took it for granted that -I was a poor weak creature, on the look-out for a husband and ready to -jump at the first suitor who turned up. What could I long for but his -death? What chance should I have of doing anything in the world so long -as he was alive and married to me? What could I long for but his death? -At first it was mine that I longed for; but then I saw that to long for -his was more sensible--more in keeping with the will of Heaven.” - -“The will of Heaven! How can you talk like that, Priscilla?” - -“If God has any idea of justice--of right and wrong--as we have been -taught to regard right and wrong by those who assure us that they have -been let into some of His secrets--it could not be His will that I -should have my life wrecked by that man. I felt that I was born for -something better, and so I hoped that he would die. Now that by the -goodness of God he is dead, shall I not be grateful? Oh, what fools! -standing here on the roadside discussing a delicate point in theology -instead of talking over the good news!” - -He looked at her for a few stern moments, and then thrust into her hand -a bundle of papers. - -“Read them for yourself,” he said. “I am going into the town. I don’t -want to be by while you are chuckling over the death of a man--a man who -died as the noblest man might be proud to die--trying to save his fellow -creatures from destruction. Read those papers for yourself, and then ask -God to forgive you for your dreadful words.” - -“He died like a hero,” she murmured, taking the papers; and then she -smiled again. - -Her father was striding down the hill; the self-respecting gait of -the churchwarden was his--the uncompromising stride of the man who -worshipped the Conventional, and never failed to go to church for this -purpose, returning to eat a one o’clock dinner of roast sirloin and -Yorkshire pudding. - -She watched him for some time, and the smile had never left her face. -Then she looked strangely at the bundle of papers which he had flung -at her--his action had suggested flinging them--in his wrath at her -utterance of all that had been in his own heart for more than a year. - -She glanced at the papers. They were Canadian, she saw, and they were -profuse in the display of strong lettering in the headlines of the -columns that met her eyes. It seemed as if the half-column of headlines -was designed to exhibit the resources of the typefounders. She saw, -without unfolding the papers, that they referred to a wreck that had -taken place off the coast of Nova Scotia, great stress being laid on the -fact that sixteen lives were lost, and that a man who had tried to carry -a line ashore from the wreck had been swept away to destruction. “A -Hero’s Death!” was the headline that called attention to this detail. - -She folded the papers back into their creases. She felt that she could -not do full justice on the open road to the matter with which they -dealt. She must hurry home and read every line in the seclusion of her -own room. In the same spirit she had occasionally hurried to her home -with a new novel by a favourite author under her arm. Nothing must -disturb her. She must be allowed to gloat over every line--to dwell -lovingly upon the bold lettering of the headings, “A Hero’s Death!” - -She almost ran along the road in her eagerness; and now her elation -had increased so greatly that she felt it to be indecent--almost -disgraceful--all that her father had suggested that it was. It was all -very well for her to be conscious of a certain amount of satisfaction on -learning that she was released from the dreadful bondage which compelled -her to be the wife of a convict, but it was quite another matter to -feel herself lilting that comic opera air, “I’ll kiss you and die like a -‘ero”; and, when she succeeded in banishing that ridiculous melody from -buzzing in her ears, to be conscious of the rattle of the drum and the -trumpet call of the cornet introducing Don César’s singing of “Let me -like a soldier fall” in the opera of “Maritana.” But there they went on -in her ears--the banjo-bosh of the one and the swashbuckler’s swagger of -the other, accepting the beat of her hastening feet for their _tempo_. -The more she hurried, the more rapidly the horrid tuney things went on; -and she had a dreadful feeling of never being able to escape from them. - -She was doomed for her wickedness to be haunted by those jingles for -evermore. - -Of course she had no idea that she was on the verge of hysteria; but her -father would have known, if he had had any experience of the range -of human emotion outside the profitable working of a large farm, that -hysteria must be the sequel to that unnatural calm which his daughter -had shown on learning that the man to whom she had bound herself was -dead. - -It was not, however, until she had reached her home and had gone very -slowly upstairs to her room, that the buzzing and the lilting and the -tinkling of tunes in her ears rushed together in a horrible terrifying -jingle, and she cried out, flinging herself upon her bed in a paroxysm -of wild tears and falsetto sobs. The reaction had come, and borne her -down beneath its mad rush upon her. - -When she became calm once more she had a sense of having been absurdly -weak in failing to keep herself well in hand. She could not understand -how it was that she had let herself behave so foolishly. If the man had -been her lover she could not have been more upset by the news of his -death, she thought. - -But the thing had happened, however, and she felt that she might rest -confident that it would never happen again. So she bathed her face and -brushed her hair and set herself down to her newspapers on the seat at -her open window. The sky was blue above the Downs, and the rain had left -in the air a clean taste. In the meadow there were countless daffodils, -and the afternoon sun was glistening upon the rain drops in their bells -and on the blades of the emerald grasses of the slope. From the great -brown field that was being ploughed came the rich smell of moist earth -and the varying notes of the ploughman’s words to his team. When he got -to the end of the furrow nearest to the farmhouse she heard his words -clearly; then he turned, and his voice became indistinct as he plodded -slowly on in the other direction. From the clumps of larch in the -paddock came the cawing of innumerable rooks, but the song of the lark -fell to her ears from the blue sky itself. - -She sat for a long time with the newspapers in her lap. She had not for -many months felt so restful as she did now. It seemed to her that she -had been in prison for more than a year. She had heard through iron bars -all the sounds that were now coming from the earth and the air and the -sky, but she had not been able to enjoy them; on the contrary, they had -irritated her, reminding her of the liberty which had once been hers, -but which (she had felt) she was never again to know. - -And now... - -She sat there living in the luxury of that sense of freedom which had -come to her--that sense of restfulness--of exquisite peace--the peace -of God that passeth understanding. It had come to her straight from God, -she felt. Although she had shown but little faith in the goodness of -God, still He had not forgotten her. The words of the hymn came to her -memory:-- - - ‘’God moves in a mysterious way - - His wonders to perform, - - He plants His footsteps in the sea - - And rides upon the storm.” - -Ah! yes, it was His hand that had passed through the air, and that storm -had rushed down upon that ship; it was His footsteps that had stirred -up the seas to engulf it and that wretch who had tried to wreck her -life--ah! it was he who had been the first to suffer wreck! Poor wretch! -Poor wretch! In the course of her large thoughts of the mercy and -justice of God she could even feel a passing current of pity for the -wretch; but it was one of very low voltage: it would not have caused -more than the merest deflection of the most sensitive patho-meter. When -she had sighed “Poor wretch!” it was gone. Still she knew that she was -no longer the hard woman that she had been ever since she had stood by -the church porch and had watched the policeman putting the handcuffs -on the man whom she had just married, and had heard his saturnine jest -about having put a ring on her finger and then having bracelets put on -his wrists. It was that hardness which had then come into her nature -that caused her to speak to her father with such bitterness when he had -met her with his news on the road. - -But now she was changed. She would ask her father’s forgiveness, -and perhaps he would understand her, though she did not altogether -understand herself. - -And still the newspapers lay folded in her lap; and her memory began -to review in order the incidents that had led up to that catastrophe of -fourteen months ago. It was when she was visiting her aunt Emily that -she had met him. - -But her memory seemed determined to show itself a more complete recorder -than she had meant it to be of everything connected with this matter. It -carried her back to the earlier days when her hair had been hanging down -her back, and her aunt had had long consultations with her mother on -the subject of her education. “Befitting for a lady”--that had been her -aunt’s phrase--she, Priscilla, was to be educated in such a way as was -befitting for a lady. Aunt Emily was herself a lady; she had done -much better than her sister, Priscilla’s mother, who had only become a -farmer’s wife. To be sure Phineas Wadhurst was not to be classed among -the ordinary farmers of the neighbourhood, who barely succeeded in -getting a living out of the land. The Wadhursts had been on their farm -for some hundreds of years, and their names were to be read on a big -square tablet in the church with 1581 figuring as the first date upon -it. Some of them had made the land pay, but others had spent upon it the -money that these had bequeathed to them, without prospering. It was old -Phineas Wadhurst that had done best out of it, and when he died he had -left to his son a small fortune in addition to a well-stocked farm. - -But before many years had passed young Phineas, who had the reputation -of being the longest-headed man that had ever been a Wadhurst, perceived -that the conditions under which agriculture was carried on with a profit -had changed considerably. He saw that the day of English wheat was -pretty nearly over, but that if the day of wheat was over, the day of -other things was dawning, and it was because he became the pioneer -of profits that people called him long-headed. While his neighbours -grumbled he experimented. The result was that in the course of five -years he was making money more rapidly than it had ever been made out of -the wheat. “Golden grain,” it had been called long ago. Phineas Wadhurst -smiled. Golden butter was what he had his eye on--golden swedes which -he grew for his cattle, so that every bullock became bullion and every -heifer a mint. - -And then he did a foolish thing. He got married. - -The woman he chose was a “lady.” The English agriculturist’s ideal lady -is some one who has had nothing to do with farming all her life; just as -his ideal gentleman is a retired English shopkeeper. Eleanor Glynde was -one of the daughters of a hardworking doctor in general practice in the -little town of Limborough. - -She was an austere woman of thirty, of a pale complexion, which in the -eyes of every agricultural community is the stamp of gentility in a -lady. Mrs. Wadhurst took no interest in the cultivation of anything -except her own pallor. She had once been known as the Lily of -Limborough, and she lived in the perpetual remembrance of this -tradition. She did not annoy her husband very much; and though there -were a good many people who said that Phineas Wadhurst would have shown -himself to be longer-headed if he had married a woman in his own station -in life, who would have looked after the dairy and kept all the “hands” - busy, yet the man felt secretly proud of his wife’s idleness and of her -attention to her complexion. She read her novels and worked in crewels, -and after five years became the mother of a girl, who grew up to be an -extremely attractive creature, but a creature of whom her mother found -great difficulty in making a lady. - -Mrs. Wadhurst’s ideal lady did not differ greatly from the ideal of the -agriculturists; only she added to their definition a rider that she was -to be one who should be visited by Framsby. To be on visiting terms with -Framsby represented the height of her social ambition. - -But Framsby is a queer place. It has eight thousand inhabitants and -three distinct “sets” of gentility. The aristocracy of the town is made -up of the family of a land agent, the family of a retired physician, -the family of a solicitor still in practice, the family of a clergyman’s -widow, whose grandfather once “had the hounds,” as she tells you before -you have quite made up your mind whether the day is quite wonderful for -this time of the year, or if you mean to attend the forthcoming Sale -of Work. These and the elderly wife of a retired colonial civil servant -made up the ruling “set” at Framsby. They were on golfing terms with the -other sets, but socially they declined to look on them as their equals. -The other sets consisted of the bank managers, two of the three doctors -and their families--for some reason or other the third doctor, with a -foolish talkative wife and a couple of exceedingly plain daughters, had -_entrée_ at the aristocratic gatherings--a couple of retired officers of -Sappers and their families, and some officials, the county surveyor, the -master of the grammar school, and the manager of the brewery, each with -his _entourage_. - -Of course the clergymen of the Established Church and their families -were, _ex officio_, members of all sets, but it was clearly understood -by the ruling party that they were only admitted on sufferance--they -must at all times recollect that they were only honorary members, -without any power of voting or vetoing on any of the great questions of -leaving cards on strangers, or of the membership of the Badminton Club. - -And the funny part of the matter was that while the members of the best -set were neither people of good family nor people who were in the least -degree interesting in themselves, whereas several of the other set were -both well born and educated, no one was found to dispute the fact that -the one was the right set and the other the wrong set. - -When a girl in the wrong set was spoken to or patronized by a frump in -the other, she showed herself to be greatly pleased, and became quite -cool and “distant” with her own associates; and when one of the frumps -snubbed the ambitions of a girl in the wrong set, all the other girls -in the wrong set became chilling in their attitude to that girl; and a -knowledge of these facts may perhaps account for the impression which -was very general in other parts of the county that Framsby was a queer -place, and that its precious “sets” might be roughly classified as toads -and toadies. It was clearly understood that Framsby was an awful place -for strangers to come to. No matter how clever they were--no matter -how greatly distinguished in the world outside Framsby--they were not -visited, except by the tradesmen, until they had been resident for -at least two years. This circumstance, however, by no means raised an -insurmountable barrier between them and the people who were hunting up -subscribers for some of their numerous “objects.” The newcomers -were invariably called on for subscriptions by the very cream of the -aristocracy of Framsby--subscriptions to the Hospital, to the Maternity -Home, to the School Treats, to the Decayed Gardeners’ Fund, the Decayed -Gentlewomen’s Fund, the Poor Brave Things’ Fund, the Zenana Missions -Fund, the Guild of St. Michael and All Angels Fund, the Guild of -Repentant Motherhood (affiliated with the Guild of St. Salome), and -the Guild of Aimless Idlers. These and a score of equally excellent -“objects” were without any delay brought under the notice of all -newcomers; so that if the old inhabitants showed themselves to be -extremely discourteous and inhospitable in regard to strangers, it must -be acknowledged that they made up for their neglect of social “calls” by -the frequency and the persistence of their visitations when they thought -there was anything to be got out of them. - -And these were the people for whose patronage Phineas Wadhurst’s wife -pined all her life, and it was solely that her daughter might one day -be received by some of the best set in Framsby that she agreed with her -sister that Priscilla should be “finished” at a school the fees of which -were notoriously exorbitant. - -This was the point at which Priscilla’s review of the past began while -she sat on her chair that afternoon, when for the first time for a year -she had a sense of peace--a sense of her life being cleansed from -some impurity that had been clinging to it. It was the sense of the -rain-washed air that induced this feeling; and she smiled while she -remembered how, even so long ago as the time of which she was thinking, -she had been amused by the seriousness with which her pale mother and -her aunt Emily discussed the likelihood there was that when the fact -of her being “finished” at that expensive school should be reasonably -presented to the right people at Framsby, it would prove irresistible as -a claim upon their compassion, so that they would come to visit her in -flocks. - -Alas! she had gone to the expensive school and had learned when there -a great number of things--some of them not even charged for in the long -list of extras; but still she was only regarded by the great people of -Framsby as a farmer’s daughter. Nay, several of the wrong set who had -been on visiting terms with Mrs. Wadhurst took umbrage at the girl’s -being sent to a school to which they could not afford to send their -daughters; and they talked of the great evils that frequently resulted -from a girl being educated “above her station”--Priscilla remembered -the ridiculous phrase for many days. But whatever their ideas on -proportionate education may have been, Priscilla was educated. She took -good care that she had everything that her father’s money was paid for -her to acquire. She did not mean to be over-exacting, but the truth was -that she had a passion for learning everything that could be taught to -her; and she easily took every prize that it was possible for her to -take at the school. - -But still the best set showed no signs of taking her up; and whatever -chance she had of this form of rapture vanished on that day when, at -a local bazaar, a young Austrian prince who spoke no English, was a -visitor. He had been brought by Mrs. Bowlby-Sutherst, but that lady, -having another engagement in the town, had asked one of the best set to -lead him to some person who could speak German. But a full parade of all -the members of the best set failed to yield even one person who could -speak one word of that language. They were all smiling profusely, -but they smiled in English, and the prince knew no English. Mrs. -Bowlby-Sutherst was in despair, when suddenly Miss Caffyn, the daughter -of the Rector of St. Mary’s in the Meadows, brought up, without a word -of warning, Priscilla Wadhurst, offering the great lady a personal -guarantee that she would have no difficulty with the prince. - -Of course Mrs. Bowlby-Sutherst was delighted. She saw that Miss Wadhurst -was the most presentable girl in the hall, and she made no enquiry -respecting her lineage or the armorial bearings of her father, but at -once presented her to the young man, and noticed with great interest -that she was not in the least fluttered at the honour; she was as much -at her ease with him as if she had been in the habit of meeting princes -all her life. She chattered to Prince Alex in his own language quite -briskly, and for an hour and a half she had him all to herself, -and delivered him up at the end of that time safe and sound to Mrs. -Bowlby-Sutherst, on that lady’s return. - -This incident, taken in connection with its illustration in a London -paper through the medium of an enterprising snap-shottist on the staff -of the local _Gazette_, in which Priscilla “came out” extremely well, -ruined whatever chance she might once have had of being visited by -Framsby’s best. They ignored her existence upon every occasion when they -might reasonably have been expected to notice her; and the failure of -her plans was too much for her mother. The lingering Lily of Limborough -took to her bed--she had taken to her sofa the year before--and never -held up her head afterwards. - -And all the time that she was complaining of the want of appreciation of -Framsby for all those accomplishments which constitute a “lady,” she was -imploring her daughter to make her a promise that she would not spend -her future in so uncongenial a neighbourhood. Her aunt Emily, the wife -of a prosperous brewer in a minor way in one of the largest cities in -the Midlands, had joined her voice with that of Mrs. Wadhurst in -this imploration; and with a view of giving her a chance of forming a -permanent connection far away from the detestable place, had insisted on -her paying several visits of some months’ duration to her own house, -and had presented to her favourable consideration more than one eligible -man. - -Somehow nothing came of these attentions, and Mrs. Wadhurst became -gradually more feeble. Then all at once there appeared on the scene -a gentleman named Blaydon, who occupied a good position in one of the -great mercantile firms of the Midland city, having come there some years -before from his home in Canada. He was greatly “smitten”--the expression -was to be found in one of Aunt Emily’s letters--with Priscilla, and -there could be no doubt as to his intentions. There was none when he -proposed to her, and was rejected. - -He went away, sunk into the depths of an abyss of disappointment. And -then it was that Aunt Emily threw up her hands in amazement. She -wished to know whom the girl expected to marry--she, the daughter of a -farmer--a wealthy and well-to-do farmer, to be sure, but still nothing -more than a farmer. Did she look for a peer of the realm--a duke--or -maybe a baronet or a prince? And Mr. Blaydon had eight hundred a year -and a good situation. Moreover he had been told that her father was a -farmer, and yet he had behaved as a gentleman! - -What, in the face of all this impetuosity, was Priscilla’s plaint that -she had no affection for the man--that she felt she could not be happy -with him--that she was not the sort of wife that such a man wanted? - -Aunt Emily ridiculed her protests. They were artificial, she affirmed. -They were the result of reading foolish novels in foreign languages; -and in a year or two she would find out the mistake she was making--yes, -when it would be too late--too late! - -Priscilla fled to her home, but only to find that the story of her -folly, of her flying in the face of Providence--the phrase was Aunt -Emily’s--had got there before her. - -Within a week she had written accepting Mr. Blaydon. Her mother--her -dying mother--backed up by her father, had brought this about. She had -implored Priscilla to accept the man. - -“My last words to you, my child--think of that,” she had said. “The last -request of a dying mother anxious for her child’s happiness. I tell you, -Priscilla, that I shall die happy if I can see you safely married to a -man who will take you away from this neighbourhood. If you refuse, what -will be your reflections so long as you live? You will have it on -your soul that you refused to listen to the last prayer of your dying -mother.” - -The girl made a rush for the writing-table with her heart full of anger -and her eyes full of tears. But she wrote the letter, and the ardent -and eligible Mr. Blaydon came down to Framsby, and they were married one -February morning in Athalsdean Church, and he was arrested on a -charge of embezzlement when they were in the act of leaving the sacred -building. The police officers had arrived ten minutes too late. - -It was the sentiment of the young and innocent wife, dwelt on so -pathetically by his counsel--“Was it right that she, that guileless -girl, should be made to suffer for a crime of which she was as innocent -as an infant unborn?” he enquired--it was this sentiment that caused -the jury to recommend him to mercy and the judge to sentence him to one -year’s imprisonment only, from the date of his committal. - -He went to prison, and Priscilla went home, and continued to call -herself by her maiden name--was she not as a maiden entitled to it? she -asked. Six weeks later her mother died; and now... - - - - -CHAPTER VII - -Every incident in this year of dreadful unrest passed through the mind -of the girl sitting at the window, breathing of the clear air of this -April afternoon, and feeling that rest had come to her at last. In the -force of that review of the bitter past fresh upon her she wondered how -she had ever had the courage to do all that she had done since. How had -she ever been able to hold up her head walking through the streets of -Framsby? How had it been possible for her, within three months of her -marriage, to go about as if the only event that had made a mark upon -her life was the funeral of her mother? She remembered how she had felt -when, on going into Framsby for the first time in her black dress, she -saw the interested expression that came over the faces of all the people -whom she knew by sight. Every one gazed at her with that same look of -curiosity that came to them when a celebrity chanced to visit the town. -And upon that very first day she had met one of the ladies of the best -set walking with her two daughters. She had seen them nudge one another -and pass on a whisper, and then a little curious smile while she -was still a good way off. The smile--and it was a very detestable -one--lasted until she had walked past them. Another of the same set was -with a stranger on the opposite side of the street, and Priscilla saw -her point her out furtively to the stranger, and then over the back -of her hand, explain what was the exact nature of the interest that -attached to her. - -A third lady--she was the wife of the retired colonial civil -servant--had shown worse taste still; for although she had never -spoken a word to Priscilla in all her life, yet now she stopped her and -expressed her deep sympathy for her in “that sad affair,” asking her -what her plans were for the future, and saying, “Of course you will -leave this neighbourhood as soon as you can.” - -How had she borne it all, she now asked herself. How had she the courage -to face those people who seemed to think that that blow which had fallen -on her had somehow brought Framsby within measurable distance of being -thought disreputable by the world at large? But she had not merely borne -it all, she had nerved herself to appear in public more frequently than -she had ever done, and she went to help her friend Rosa Caffyn at the -entertainment the wife of the Rector of St. Mary’s in the Meadows was -getting up in the Rectory grounds for the new Nurses’ Home. - -It was on account of her unbending attitude under the burden that she -had to bear, that Rosa had talked with admiration of her confronting -Fate and her splendid rebellion against what the Rector had claimed -to be the heavy hand of a Power to whose mandates we should all be -cheerfully resigned. Rosa was resolute in declining to accept the -theories of the pulpit on the subject of cheerful resignation. How -could she accept them, she asked, when her father refused to be either -cheerful or resigned in such comparatively small dispensations of -Providence as a cook with a heavy hand in the peppering of soups, or a -parlourmaid with a passion for arranging the papers in his study? - -But if Priscilla now found difficulty in understanding how she had had -the resolution to face the world of Framsby as if nothing had happened, -she did not fail to feel that her attitude was worthy of admiration, -and she knew that it had received the admiration of Framsby in general, -though the best set had felt scandalized by it. She had received many -tokens of what she felt to be the true sympathy of the ordinary people -of the town. A solicitor in the second set had offered to make an -application to the courts of law--he was justifiably vague in their -definition--to have her marriage rendered null and void, assuring her -that he would do everything at his own expense. (He was well known to -be an enterprising young man.) Many other and even more gracefully -suggested evidences of the sympathy which was felt for her outside the -jealously-guarded portals of the “right set” were given to her. In the -eyes of the young men she had always been something of a heroine, and -this matrimonial adventure of hers had not only established her claims -to be looked on as a heroine, it had endowed her with the halo of -a saint as well. And thus it was that, when she had appeared on -the platform so fearlessly, and with a complete ignoring of the -head-shakings and lip-pursings of the front rows, she had been received -with the heartiest applause, very disconcerting to Mr. Kelton, who had -never before in the whole course of his amateur experience known of an -ordinary accompanist so “blanketing” a singer. - -Her recollections of the various conflicting incidents and interests in -her experiences of the year were quickly followed by some reflections -upon her freedom and what she was to do with it. Thus she was led -far into a bright if mysterious future; but presently she found her -imagination becoming dazzled and dizzy, and down toppled the castle -which she was building for herself after the most approved style -affected by the architects of such structures in Spain--down toppled -the castle, and she awoke from her vision, as one does from a dream of -falling masonry, with a start. - -What had she been thinking of? Was it all indeed a dream--this sense of -Spring in the air--the rain-washed air--this sense of the peace of God? - -She looked about her vaguely. Her hands fell on her lap, and came upon -the still folded newspapers which remained there. She had forgotten all -about the newspapers. (So the prisoner just released from gaol takes but -the smallest amount of interest in the certificate of discharge.) - -She read the account given in every one of the three of the wreck of -the steel-built barque _Kingsdale_ on the coast of Nova Scotia, in the -neighbourhood of Yarmouth. The vessel had lost her rudder and become -unmanageable, and she had been driven between the low headland and a -sunken rock in the darkness. Boats had been stove in on an attempt being -made to launch them; and then it was that the passenger whose name was -Blaydon--“an unfortunate but well connected gentleman and a friend of -Captain Lyman, of the ill-fated vessel”--had nobly volunteered to carry -a line ashore. He was a powerful swimmer, and it was believed for some -time by the wretched mariners whom he meant to save that his heroic -attempt was crowned with success. Unhappily, however, this was not to -be. On hauling upon the line after a long interval it had come all too -easily. There was no resistance even of the man’s body at the end. -It was plain that the brave fellow, about whose shoulders it had been -looped, had been dragged out of the bight and engulfed in the boiling -surge, perishing in his heroic efforts on behalf of the crew. Through -the night’s exposure no fewer than eleven of the crew died within half -an hour of being brought ashore by a fishing smack from St. John’s. The -survivors, twelve in number, included Captain Lyman, the master, and the -second and third mates; also an apprentice named Jarvis, of Hull. - -“From information supplied by Captain Lyman, we are able to state that -the heroic man who perished in his attempt to provide the crew with -the means of saving themselves, had but recently been released from an -English prison, having worked out his sentence for a fraud committed -by another man whom he was too high-minded to implicate. He had, it was -said, a young wife in England, for whom the deepest sympathy will be -felt.” - -Practically the same account appeared in all the papers; one, however, -went more deeply into the past history of the man, giving--evidently -by reference to some back files of an English paper--the date and -particulars of the trial of Marcus Blaydon; but it did not introduce -these details at the cost of the expression of sympathy with the young -widow--all the accounts referred to the pathetic incident of the young -widow and offered her the tribute of their deep sympathy. - -And there the young widow sat at the open window, conscious of no -impression beyond that which she had frequently acquired from reading a -novel at the same window. She felt that she had been reading an account -of a wreck in a novel, in which the hero lost his life in a forlorn hope -to rescue his fellow creatures, and the hero had been a black sheep; the -object of the writer being to show that even the worst man may have in -his nature the elements of the heroic. - -The man Blaydon seemed as legendary to her as Jim Bludso in Hay’s -ballad. He seemed quite as remote from her life. She took no more than a -novel-reader’s interest in the story. She was harder than the newspaper -men, for she could not bring herself up to a point of sympathizing with -the young widow. - -“Good heavens!” she cried, getting to her feet so quickly that the -papers fluttered down to the carpet. “Good heavens! have I allowed -myself to be made miserable for so long by a person who was no more than -a character out of a novel--one of the black sheep hero novels? Oh, -what a fool I was--as foolish as the girls who cry copiously when their -fustian hero gets into trouble.” - -Then she leant up against the side of the window and was lost in a maze -of thought. Several minutes had passed before she found herself, so to -speak; and she found herself with a smile on her face. - -“Good heavens!” she said again. “Good heavens! After all I was not -miserable, but glad. I allowed myself to be driven into marrying him -when all the time I did not even like him. I had a sense of committing -suicide--of annihilating myself--when I married him, and I now know that -it was a relief to me when we were separated. And now the final relief -has come--relief and release; and my life is once more in my own hands. -Thank God for that! Thank God for that!” - -And then, strange though it was, she began to recall, apparently without -any connection with her previous reflections, something that she -had said to Rosa when on their way to the primrose park in the -forenoon--something about immorality--it was certainly a very foolish -thing--some hint that if she were to set her mind--no, her heart--upon -some object, she would not allow any considerations that were generally -called moral considerations to interfere with her achievement of that -object. - -That was in substance what she had said in her foolishness, and now, -thinking upon it, she felt that it was not merely a very foolish thing -to say, but a very shocking thing as well. The very idea at which she -had hinted was revolting to her now, so that she could not understand -what was the origin of the impulse in the force of which she had talked -so wildly. This was what she now felt, illustrating with some amount -of emphasis how a slight change in the conditions which govern a young -woman’s life may cause her to lose a sense of the right perspective in a -fancy picture that she is drawing, as she believes, direct from Nature. - -It was with a blushing conscience that she now remembered how for some -weeks she had been thinking that if the only obstacle that prevented -her living her life as she felt that her life should be lived, was what -would generally be regarded as a moral one, she would not hesitate for -a moment to kick that obstacle out of her way, and live her life in -accordance with the dictates of the heart of a woman:--a true woman, -quivering with those true instincts which make up the life of a real -woman. - -That had actually been the substance of her thoughts for several weeks -past. She shuddered at the recollection now. She thanked God that she -could look at such matters very differently now; and this meant that she -thanked God for having removed temptation from her. - -The young widow bathed her face and smoothed her hair and looked at -herself in the glass, and was quite satisfied with the reflection. She -had emerged from an ordeal by fire, and she found that not a hair of her -head was singed. The three young men who had passed through the -seven times heated furnace must have felt pretty well satisfied with -themselves when they found that they had not suffered. Only a few -hours earlier this young woman had had her gloomy moments. She was an -intelligent girl, and so was perfectly well aware of the fact that a -girl’s supreme chance in life comes to her by marriage, and she had -thrown this chance away, and it might never return to her. It was the -force of this reflection that had caused her to begin experimenting with -her maimed life, with a view of making the most of it. The trick which -she had played upon the bumptious tenor represented only one of her -experiments. All the people around her, men as well as women, had been -unable to stem the current of his insolence. They were all ready to lie -down before him and allow him to achieve the triumph of the hero of a -bas-relief, at their expense: they had permitted him to put his feet on -their necks, as it were. She had wondered if it would not be possible -for her to trip up this blatant alabaster hero when he was stalking -about from neck to neck of better people than himself. Her experiment -had succeeded, and she had gone home with a feeling that if she had been -made a fool of by a man, she had shown herself capable of making a man -look very like a fool even in his own eyes. - -This was some encouragement to her; and she had thus been led to wonder -if it might not be possible for her to employ her intelligence and her -looks to such good purpose as should at least minimize her folly in -throwing away her best chance of making a great thing out of her -life. She knew that this question demanded some earnest thinking out, -considering her position, but she had already attacked it, when lo! in a -single moment all the conditions of the contest--it would be a contest, -she knew--had changed. - -Not once had she thought of the man’s death as a possible factor in the -solution of the problem of her life. Death was something between man -and his God only, and she had so come to feel that the All-Powerful was -leagued against her, that she had never thought of His making a move in -her favour. Well, she had been wrong--she had done God an injustice, -and she had apologized for it on her knees. And now she felt that if -Providence were really and seriously to be on her side, or at least, as -the man who met the grizzly in the open prayed, not on the side of the -bear, her future might be all that she could hope it would be. - -Having asked the forgiveness of God, it was a simple thing now to ask -her father to pardon her for the extravagant way in which she had spoken -when he had brought to her the news of the man’s death. Mr. Wadhurst was -one of those plain-spoken, straightforward men, who think it right and -proper to be hypocritical over such matters as death and bankruptcy. -He had joined solemnly in the complaints of his unprosperous neighbours -over the bad times, and had shaken his head when one of them, who had -been going to the wall for years, at last reached that impenetrable -boundary of his incapacity; though Mr. Wadhurst did not fail to perceive -that he would now be able to join the derelict farm on to his own and -obtain the live stock at his own valuation--a chance for which he had -been waiting for years. And he had never failed to be deeply shocked -when he heard of the death of a drunken wife, or a ne’er-do-weel son, or -a consumptive daughter on the eve of her marriage with a scorbutic man; -and thus he hoped that God would look upon him as a man with a profound -sense of decency. He certainly looked upon himself as such; and he never -felt his position stronger in this respect than he did when his daughter -met him in a contrite spirit for having spoken with so great a want of -delicacy in regard to her rascally husband. - -“I’m glad that you have come to see that--that vengeance is God’s, not -man’s,” said he, with great solemnity. - -She replied substantially that she was glad it was in such capable -hands, though the words that she employed were of conventional -acquiescence in the conventionally Divine. - -“Whatever the man may have been, he died like a man,” resumed her -father, repeating the phrase that he had used before. “You must respect -his memory for that deed.” - -She could not help feeling that she would respect his memory more on -this account if he had done the deed before she had met him. But she -did not express this view. She only bent her head; she was no longer a -rebellious child, only a hypocritical one. - -“It’s a shocking thing--an awful thing!” continued her father. “To think -that within a year your mother and your husband have gone. Have you yet -grasped the fact that you are a widow, Priscilla?” - -She certainly had not grasped this fact. The notion of her being a -widow seemed to her supremely funny. But for the sake of practice in the -career of duplicity which he was marking out for her, she took out her -handkerchief and averted her head. - -He put a strong arm about her, saying, “My poor child--my poor -motherless child! I did not forget you when I was in the town just now. -I called at Grindley’s and told them to send one of their hands out here -with samples, so as to save you from the ordeal of appearing in public -in your ordinary dress.” - -She moved away from his sheltering embrace. - -“Samples--samples--of what?” she said. - -“Of the cap--the--Ah! that I should live to see my child wearing widow’s -weeds!” - -“You were very thoughtful, father,” she murmured; “but I am not sure -that I should think of myself as really a widow.” - -“You are a widow,” he said, with some measure of asperity. - -She shook her head in a way that suggested she felt that she was not -worthy of such an honour. - -“You are a widow, and I hope that you will remember that,” he repeated. -“Your marriage was quite regular. There was no flaw in it.” - -“I suppose, then----” - -“You may not merely suppose, you may be sure of it. Do you fancy that -there would be a flaw in any business, that I had to do with?” - -“I do not, indeed. This was, however, a bad bit of business for me, -father. However, we need say no more about it. I don’t wish ever again -to hear that wretched business alluded to. It has passed out of my life -altogether, thanks be to God, and now it only remains in my mind as a -horrid nightmare.” - -“It was a legal marriage, and marriage is a holy thing.” - -He spoke with the finality of the Vicar’s churchwarden--as if he -were withstanding the onslaught of a professed freethinker. His last -statement was, however, too much for the patience of his daughter--to be -more exact, it was too much for her mask of humility which she had put -on to save the trouble of discussion with him. - -She turned upon him, speaking with a definiteness and finality quite -equal in force to his display of the same qualities. - -“Look here, father,” she said. “We may as well understand each other at -once. You know as well as I do that there was nothing sacred about that -marriage of mine. You know that the--the--no, I will not give him -his true name, I will call him for once a man--he behaved like a -man--_once_--you know, I say, that he married me simply because that -foolish woman, Aunt Emily, gave him to understand that you would endow -me handsomely on my wedding day, and he wanted the money to pay back all -that he had embezzled. You also know that I never had the least feeling -of affection, or even of regard, for the man--that I only agreed to -marry him because my mother forced me to do so.” - -“Do not speak a word against your mother, girl.” - -“I am not speaking against her. She, I am sure, was convinced that she -was urging me to take a step for my own good; she had always bowed -down before the superior judgment of Aunt Emily. No matter about that; -I married the man caring nothing for him, but believing that he cared -something for me. It was proved at the church door that he never cared a -scrap for me. That is the marriage which you tell me was sacred!” - -“Marriage is a sacred ordinance. You can’t get over that; and every -marriage celebrated in the church----” - -“Sacred ordinance! You might as well talk of any Stock Exchange -transaction being sacred because it is made in what I believe they call -the House. Sacred! A sacred farce! I remember feeling when I was in the -church that day how dreadful was the mockery of the whole thing--how the -curate talked about the mystic union between Christ and the Church being -symbolized by marriage--dreadful!... Never mind, what you know as well -as I know is that that marriage of mine was not made by God, but by the -Power of Evil; it was the severance of that marriage that came from God, -and the coming of it so quickly makes me feel such gratitude to God as I -cannot express in words. That is all I have to say just now; only if you -fancy that I shall be hypocrite enough to pretend that I am mourning for -that man who did his best to wreck my life, you are mistaken. You know -that all rightminded people will say ‘What a happy release for the poor -girl!’ and they will be right. It is exactly what the poor girl herself -is saying, and what the father of the poor girl is saying in his heart, -however he may talk about the sacredness of marriage.” - -He looked at her for some moments, and the frown upon his face became -more marked every moment. He seemed more than once about to make some -answer to her impetuous speech, but he made none. When she had said her -last word, he looked at her as though he meant to box her ears. Then he -turned suddenly round and walked straight out of the room. - -So that, after all, it may be said that he had answered her accusations. - -She felt a great pity for him; she knew that she had treated him badly; -but with the memory of the past year fresh upon her--the sense of having -escaped from a noisome prison by the grace of God--she could no longer -play the part which he was encouraging her to play. - -She felt that, though a girl might marry a man whom she detested, solely -to please, her mother, it was too much to expect that she should become -a hypocrite solely to please her father. - -She was aroused from a reverie by the unfamiliar sound of the throbbing -of the passionate heart of a motor up the steep lane leading to the -farm. The car appeared round the side of the house when she had got -upon her feet to find out who the visitor was that had dared that -tyre-rending track. - -The car was a very fine one, but it carried only a chauffeur and a -basket of primroses. They parted company at the door. Priscilla heard -the man speaking a word or two to the maid at the hall door, and the -machine was backed slowly in the segment of a circle away from the house -to put it into position for taking the hill properly. - -“Mrs. Pearce has told him who we were, and he found the baskets in the -porch,” were the words that came to her mind at that moment. - -And then she gave a little start, and it was followed by a little laugh, -and then a little frown. - -It had suddenly occurred to her that here was a basket of flowers sent -by a kindly hand as a conventional tribute of respect; only it was -impossible that any such sentiment should be pinned to it, written on -paper with a black border. - -Still, there was the obituary notice in that newspaper on the table, -and there was the basket of flowers--they could easily be worked into a -wreath. - -The maid brought them into the room and laid them on a chair. - - - - -CHAPTER VIII - -Of course the next day some of the London newspapers contained ample, -though by no means extravagant, reports of the wreck of the barque on -the coast of Yarmouth, Nova Scotia. They had previously published cables -to the same effect, but only to the extent of a hundred words. At -that time no more interest was attached to the incident than would be -associated with the wreck of an ordinary vessel. It was not until -the arrival of the Canadian papers that it was found that there was -a popular feature in the transaction. The public mind, always deeply -stirred by an account of a black-sheep hero, could not be ignored by -the newspapers; and in recognition of this fact, several columns in the -aggregate and a few sub-leaders appeared dealing with the attempt--a -successful attempt too--made by Marcus Blaydon to make up for the errors -of his past by an act of heroism that had cost him his life. Posthumous -honour in this form is always administered with a generous hand; and the -consequence was that, by the time the country papers had, on account -of the local interest attaching to the loss of the barque _Kingsdale_, -filled to overflowing the cup of effervescent incident in this -connection, and offered it to their readers, Mr. Wadhurst had come -to think of himself as the father-in-law of a hero. He actually had a -feeling of pride when he saw his name in the bracketed paragraphs at the -foot of the spirited account of the wreck: “It will be remembered that -the heroic if unfortunate man, Marcus Blaydon, married on the morning -of his arrest, the only daughter of a much-respected practical -agriculturist, Mr. Phineas Wadhurst, of Athalsdean, near Framsby.” - -He felt very bitterly on the subject of his daughter’s refusal to wear -mourning; and now that the local papers had dealt so fully with the -leading incident of the wreck, recognizing the popular element that it -contained, he was angrier than ever. He asked her if she had any idea -what the people would think of her if she were to appear among them -without even a hint at the “weeds”; and when she replied that she had -never thought of the people of Framsby and did not intend to begin now, -he expressed himself as being ready to accept a compromise from her on -this point. He tried to suggest to her the possibility of adopting -such a costume as would make it plain that, while she deplored the past -errors of her husband, she fully appreciated the elements of distinction -associated with his last act. - -That was what he had in his mind, but he did not quite succeed in giving -definition to it with sufficient clearness to enforce its appeal to her -sense of proportion; and when she told him so, he stalked away from her. - -And that “romance of the sea,” as one newspaper termed it, had -apparently attracted the attention of the lady who had been responsible -for Priscilla’s meeting with the man, for the young widow received a -long letter from her Aunt Emily the purport of which was to convince her -that, in spite of what had been said at the time of her marriage, she, -Aunt Emily, had been quite correct in the estimate she had formed of the -character of Marcus Blaydon: he had shown himself to be a fine and noble -gentleman--Aunt Emily harped on the word “gentleman,” as usual. She -ended her letter with a sentence which, reduced to the plainest English, -was in effect: “Since I did so well for you once before, if you come to -me now you may depend on my doing as much for you again.” - -Her father thought she should visit her aunt and give her another trial. -(He wanted to get her as far away as possible from the observation of -Framsby--to get her removed to some place where the absence of those -distinguishing “weeds” would not arouse comment.) - -Priscilla threw the letter, torn into shreds, out of the window, and -some of the choicest paragraphs became the lining of a blackbird’s nest -that was being hastily papered and plastered for the coming of a new -brood. - -She did not hasten to show herself in the street of Framsby. What was -Framsby to her that she should flaunt in its face her feeling in regard -to her position? She had no occasion to go into the town, and she took -care that she did not create an artificial necessity for the sake of -displaying her unconventionality. Her friend Rosa paid her a visit, -accompanied by her mother, who really liked Priscilla. Now Rosa’s visit -was one of congratulation, whereas her mother’s was one of condolence, -so that she had no reason to complain on any score. She did not -complain. She took the congratulations with the condolences in the -spirit in which they were offered, and so every one was satisfied. - -At the end of a fortnight she began to have a longing for some traffic -with the outer world. She was becoming as melancholy as the Lady of -Shalott; and the _Daily Mirror_, in which she gazed every morning to -find a reflection of the incidents of life, only caused her longings to -be increased. The things of the farm, the incidents of the orchard, the -promise of the crops, the “likely” calves, the multiplying of the -lambs, now ceased to interest her. Neither her father nor her mother had -encouraged her to take any interest in the great money-making farm; they -gave her to understand that her part in connection with the farm was to -spend the money that it made for the family. She was to be a “lady,” and -this involved laziness in all matters that mattered in connection -with the farm. She was to give all her attention to her piano, to her -painting, to her dressing, all these being accomplishments as essential -to the development of a “lady” as an acquaintance with the methods of -the farm was detrimental to the effecting of this end--the great end of -life. - -But Priscilla had, without any desire to go against the will of her -parents, come to perceive how infinitely more interesting were the -things of the farm than the working of tea cloths and the embroidering -of teapot cosies--the eminently ladylike occupations which her mother -encouraged her to pursue. The consequence was that, in the course of a -year or two, she knew a great deal about the farm, and several times she -had detected errors made by the men responsible for at least two of -the departments; but having only communicated her knowledge to the men -themselves, and not to her father, she had not hurt the susceptibilities -of either the former or the latter. - -But now, as the month of May went on, and she remained watching how all -living things around her were full of the delights of companionship, she -had a sense of loneliness--of isolation. She felt keenly just now the -cruelty of her position in respect of the “sets” at Framsby. She knew -that the Tennis and Croquet Club was in full swing, but she was not a -member. Rosa Caffyn had been made to understand by Mrs. Gifford, -the lady who practically ran the club, that she need not put up Miss -Wadhurst’s name, for she would have no chance of being admitted. Then -there were two cricket matches being played on the county ground, but -she had no one with whom she could go, though she took great interest in -cricket, and all Framsby would be there. - -She felt very lonely in her isolation on the Downs, and began to go for -long walks in the company only of Douglas, her Scotch collie, keeping as -remote as possible from the motor tracks, for the month was turning -out dusty dry. But in spite of her intentions in this direction, she -detected the aroma of burning petrol when she was on her way home -through a rather steep brambly lane, the surface of which retained the -cart ruts of the previous winter--perhaps of an earlier winter still. -The scent seemed warm, so she was not surprised to come upon the _fons -et origo_ when she had followed the bend of the lane toward the old -coach road. The machine was standing with one wheel up on the ditch, -and its engine was silent. Two men were on their knees in front of -the exposed machinery, but it was plain that their posture was not -devotional--in fact, from the character of a word or two that strayed to -her ears, she gathered that it was just the opposite. - -He waited for her to smile first: he seemed uncertain and rather anxious -to know what she would do and so give him the note for him to follow; -and when she smiled quite happily and unconcernedly, his mouth widened -visibly, and he gave her an excellent caricature of a jocose boy. He had -no notion of letting her walk on after she had greeted him and said: - -“Thank you so much for sending the primroses. That is your motor, is it -not? Nothing material, I hope?” - -“Sure to be nothing when it’s found out,” he said. “It’s a bit pink-eyed -to-day--had rather a lurid night.” - -“Oh, really?” she said. “I thought that those things had iron -constitutions--stand any amount of racket.” - -“I suppose I should say something about the amount of spirit they -consume and that,” he remarked, still smiling. - -“Too obvious,” she said, shaking her head. “Still after the obviousness -of my ‘iron constitution’ you might say anything. What a lovely day it -is--just the sort of day for a breakdown!” - -She had begun to walk on, saying her last sentence with a sort of -good-bye nod and smile. - -“Might I walk on a bit with you?” he asked, becoming solemn and pitching -his voice half a tone lower. “The fact is”--his voice became lower -still, almost confidential--“the chap knows more about the machine than -I do, and he works best when let alone.” - -“Of course you may walk as far as you wish. I shall be only too glad, I -can tell you,” said she. “I have been having a lot of solitary walks of -late, and I’m sick of them. I was longing for some one to talk to.” - -“I’m sorry you haven’t come across some one who is better in that line -than myself,” said he. “I never was up to much as a talker.” - -“Why, you talked quite a lot that day when you gave us so nice a lunch.” - -“Oh, I always talk a lot--no mistake about that; but there’s no brains -behind it all--no, not even grammar,” he added, after an anxious moment. - -“You have plenty of brains,” she said, looking at him as if her remark -had reference to the size of his head and she was verifying it. “What -makes you fancy that you’ve no brains?” - -“I do the wrong things so often--things that no chap would do if he had -brains enough to think whether he should do them or not.” - -“For instance?” - -“Oh, for instance? Gloriana! I’ve instances enough. Well, go no further -than this moment. I’m not sure that another chap--a chap that remembers -things, and knows the decent thing to do--would have stopped you in the -way I did.” - -“Why shouldn’t you stop me if you wished? Why, you were excessively -polite in asking me if you might walk with me to keep you from getting -in the way of the chauffeur.” - -“Of course--that’s all right the way you put it; but--but--well, I heard -from Mrs. Pearce who you were, and then I read all that in the papers, -so that I wasn’t sure if--if--it was just the thing, you know.” - -“If it was quite in good taste to speak naturally to one who had -suffered a recent bereavement?” - -He nodded, his eyes brightening as if in recognition of the excellent -way in which she expressed what was in his mind. He went further, -seeming to feel quite pleased that he had in his mind something that -could be so well expressed. - -“Mr. Wingfield,” she said, “you have the highest form of brain power, -let me tell you--the power to see in a single glance what most other men -would require to have explained to them, and even then not be able to -grasp properly. You saw in a moment that I was not the sort of girl -who would try to affect the part of the bereaved widow, taking all the -circumstances of the bereavement into consideration.” - -He looked at her in frank admiration for some moments; then he said: - -“It’s you that have the brains, to see that that is just what I saw. I -knew in a moment that you would not put on a woebegone air when you know -what everybody else knows, that you have only cause to feel delighted.” - -“Not exactly----” - -“I beg your pardon; of course not delighted--a man’s a man--you couldn’t -feel delighted to hear of the death of any man, even though he was as -great a rascal as the fellow who did his best to drag you down to hell -with him. If he had cared the merest scrap for you he never would have -asked you to marry him--he would have run away to the other end of the -world or cut his throat first.” - -“Yes; but he’s dead now.” - -“Yes, I know; _de mortuis_ and the rest; and so no one should speak -a word against Judas Iscariot. A kiss--a kiss was the sign of the -betrayal.” - -There was a suggestion of fierceness in the way he spoke, but nothing -that approached the passion with which she flared up, “He never kissed -me--never once!” she cried, her face flushing and her hands trembling -visibly. Her collie, who had been running ahead, turned and came back to -her. He looked up at her and then glanced, enquiringly, at the man. -She laid one trembling hand on the dog’s head, and then seemed to calm -herself. “Pardon me,” she said, “you really did not suggest--but you had -every right to take it for granted that we had been lovers--that I had -some regard for him. It is as great a crime for a woman to marry a man -without caring for him in the least as it is for the man to marry her. I -deserved all that I suffered; but I was spared, thank God, the memory of -having had so much as one kiss from him. I never told him that I had any -regard for him; but I did say that perhaps one day I might come to have -some sort of feeling for him, but till then--I wonder if anything like -this ever happened before. It’s funny, isn’t it?” - -“Funny? No. If any one else told me of it, I would think it funny; but -when I look at you, I don’t think anything of the sort.” - -“It is funny, and what’s funnier still is that you are the first person -whom I have told this to. Now, why should I tell it to you?” - -“I don’t know why, I’m sure, only I can tell you that you have told it -to the right man. And now will you go a step further and confide in -me how it was that you ever did marry the fellow? and we’ll drop the -subject for ever and the day after. Don’t tell me if you don’t wish.” - -“I have gone so far that I may as well go further. I never knew until -now how fascinating a thing is confession. I suppose that if it were not -for women there would be no such thing as a confessional in any church.” - -“I should say not; but their secrets are sacred.” - -“I could never doubt you, and that is why I tell you now that I allowed -myself to be persuaded by my poor mother into marrying that man. She -believed that it would be for my own good.” - -“Of course. But why--why? Your father has heaps of money, I’m told, and -the man’s position was a poor one.” - -“It was my position in this neighbourhood that was a poor one. You see, -I’m only the daughter of a farmer.” - -“What better could you be? The Wadhursts have been at Athalsdean for -hundreds of years, and in the neighbourhood for maybe a thousand. The -name is Saxon. I looked up the whole dynasty in the county history.” - -“Then you know all about that; but is there any county history that will -tell you who are the sort of people at Framsby that have it in their -power to decree who are to be visited and who are not?” - -“A pack of idiots--old women--tabbies with their claws always out, and -not prize tabbies at that. I’ve heard all about them. The family of the -village sawbones--the village attorney--a colonial clerk whose ability -was assessed at four or five hundred a year--I have been properly -coached on the whole crew--all rotters. But it’s the same way in every -beggarly town like Framsby. It’s in the hands of half-a-dozen tabbies, -and their whole aim is to keep out the nicest people--the best-looking -girls and the best educated.” - -“They kept me out, at any rate. Perhaps they were right; if they began -admitting farmers’ daughters into their sacred circle, where would its -sacredness be? They kept me out as they had kept my poor mother out, and -the very means that she had taken to have me recognized--the education -that she insisted on my getting, the expensive frocks, the good furs-- -real sables, mind, not musquash sables at forty pounds or rabbit-skin -sables at thirty shillings, but real sables--these only caused the door -to be more tightly closed against me; and my dear mother took it all so -much to heart that she never raised her head afterwards. That was why -she made me accept the first offer I received from some one who would -take me away from this neighbourhood.” - -“You should not have allowed yourself to be forced, mother or no mother. -A girl like you!” - -“She was dying. She said to me: ‘Will you let me go down to the grave -without having my one request granted? I have done everything for -you--will you not do this one thing for me so that I may close my eyes -in peace?’” - -He shook his head. Then he looked at her, but he only saw the back of -her head; she had turned away her face and her eyes were on the ground. -He knew that they were full of tears. They walked on slowly for some -time, and then he took his right hand out of the pocket of his jacket -and let it drop till it was on a level with her left. Very gently his -fingers closed over hers for a moment--only a moment. - -“I was wrong,” he said. “There was nothing else left for you to do; but -it was rough on you. Well, well; you have had a bad year of it--that’s -all, but you might have had a bad fifty years. It’s odd how the rights -of a story do get about somehow, whatever people may say. Now that -gossipy old woman, Mrs. Pearce, was only too glad to tell me all about -you when you went away that day we met; and when I said that it was your -own fault--that it was a shame, but you had made your own bed--she took -your part and said that if duty to a mother was a fault, then you were -to blame. She holds that a girl should do just what a mother tells her -to do in all matters, but especially as regards marriage. I don’t. But -then I fancy I miss my gear pretty frequently when I try to express -myself on most matters. I’m all for independence of thought and action. -That’s why they presented me with the Fellowship at the University.” - -“A Fellowship--and you said you had no brains?” She had recovered -herself and was now looking at him with only the smallest trace of her -former emotion in her face. - -“A Fellowship--yes, the Fellowship of the Boot,” he said with a grin. - -“Oh, you were sent down?” - -“If you wish to put it that way.” - -“It was your independence of thought that did it?” - -“Beyond a doubt. You see, I never could see the humour in talking of the -University as the Varsity; and I pretended not to understand one of -the dons--the surliest and the most ignorant of the lot, if I knew -anything----” - -“But you don’t. You confessed just now that you didn’t” - -“I know that--he was a chap with the mug and the pug of a pugilist. -They’ve made him a bishop since--a sort of bishop.” - -“A sort of bishop, Mr. Wingfield?” - -“This one was made Metropolitan of the Salamander Archipelago. His see -was in the sea--that was the joke made at the time. Anyhow, I asked him -on what philological grounds he called the University the Varsity. I -added that I came to Oxford to be educated, but I didn’t think that the -people who shirked the correct pronunciation of the name of the very -institution itself, but adopted the vulgarest that could be imagined and -clung to it in spite of all correction, could say that they were earning -their money honestly.” - -“You said that to a don?” - -“To that effect. You see he had been cheeking me like ribbons about -something else.” - -“And so they sent you down for your independence of thought?” - -“Well, there was a bit of a scrap over the Varsity question. I got up a -faction who had pledged themselves to call the place the University, and -in our zeal for the truth we insulted the Varsity faction. They replied -with counter-insults that took the form of pieces of brick aimed at our -windows; we replied with pieces of stone and a few tins of ready-made -paint that I had picked up seeing them go for next to nothing at a sale. -It was that paint that did it. The paint was traced to me, and so I -was the one to be sacrificed on the altar of pure pronunciation of the -English language as opposed to the Oxford manner.” - -“Well, you have the satisfaction of knowing that you are a martyr to -your own opinions, and that your opinions were right.” - -“Yes, but though we hear that a great cause has its foundations cemented -by the blood of martyrs, yet it didn’t turn out that way when I was -the martyr; they went back to the old vulgarity of Varsity in a moment. -There was not one there to pass on the blazing torch of pure English -which I had lighted for them.” - -“You shouldn’t have made the torch out of the old oak.” - -He gazed at her in amazement. - -“Who told you that about the oak door?” he asked. - -“No one; only it occurred to me that there must have been something of -that sort going on in the course of the proceedings. I have heard that -you may do anything you please at Oxford if you only keep good hours and -respect the oak. Here comes your machine. The chauffeur quite bore out -the character you gave him; but I shall feel that I did something to -help him by taking you out of his way.” - -“Confound him! he’s just a bit too quick,” said Mr. Wingfield. “We’ve -got a lot more to say, haven’t we?” - -“You must say it to the chauffeur,” she said. - -“No; I’ll send him home with the machine and you’ll let me walk up the -hill with you.” - -“Not to-day, please. Good-bye. I am very glad that we met. I have got -rid of my gloomiest thoughts. I knew that what I wanted was a chat with -some one who was--was--like you--some one not just like the rest of -the world--some one who was a rigid purist in the matter of -pronunciation--some one who had gained distinction as a painter.” - -“Oh, I say; you must forget that business. I’m not proud of it now. As -a matter of fact I can recollect very little that I have a reason to be -proud of.” - -“Good-bye. You maybe proud of having pulled a poor girl out of the black -depths of her own reflections.” - -“Not black depths, surely.” - -“Black, without relief. You pulled me out of the Slough of Despond, and -the world appears with a rose-coloured ribbon or two fluttering about it -before my eyes. Thank you again and again. Good-bye.” - -“Good-bye. We are pretty sure to meet again. I suppose it wouldn’t be -possible for you to suggest some place where you are likely to take your -walks abroad?” - -She shook her head. - -“That would be to set oneself up as a sort of Providence, wouldn’t it?” - -“I like to make arrangements beforehand for coincidences,” said he. -“Never mind. When you feel gloomy, and want somebody to confess to, -don’t forget that I’m your man.” - -“You may be sure of that.” - -They had walked a dozen yards or so away from where the car had pulled -up, and now he went back to it, and took the wheel from the chauffeur. -She watched him start and gave him a little wave of her hand. - -He was a mile away before she had turned her face homeward. - - - - -CHAPTER IX - -Priscilla’s father had a piece of news for her when they met at supper -that night--the _menage_ at the farm involved tea at six and supper at -half-past nine. - -“That young Wingfield, the grandson of the old man, has come to live -at the Manor,” he said. “I heard all about it from Mr. Hickman to-day. -Hickman is not his solicitor, but he knows all about it. A young scamp -who will simply walk through that fine property which has been nursed -for him by the trustees all these years.” - -“I think you told us that the old man hoped that by preventing him from -inheriting the property until he was twenty-seven he would give him -a chance of gaining some sense to enable him to work it properly,” - remarked Priscilla. - -“That was the old man’s notion; but I don’t suppose it will prove to -have been worth anything. It’s usually the case that an ill-conditioned -puppy turns out an ill-conditioned dog. The young man is a wild young -ass, kicking up his heels at all authority. He was turned out of Oxford -in his third year. They couldn’t stand his ways any longer.” - -“That must have happened several years ago if he is twenty-seven now. I -wonder what he has been doing in the meantime.” - -“Wild--he has been very wild, I hear; knocking about the world--India, -Australia, the South Sea Islands, with America to follow. He has been -doing no good anywhere. He has no head, you see; his father had no head -either--allowed himself to be imposed on right and left. The old man had -to pay his debts half-a-dozen times over before he died. The boy -seems ready to follow in his father’s footsteps. It’s very sad. Twelve -thousand a year at the least.” - -“But are there not some farms still unlet?” - -“There are three; but that would only make a difference of a thousand -a year. I’m not sure that Dunning did his best in the matter of the big -farm--Birchknowle. But the trustees thought no end of Dunning, and you -may be sure that when they couldn’t see through him the young man won’t -either. Dunning is a muddler if ever there was one. Wouldn’t allow -Brigstock the year’s rent that he wanted when he was going in for -market gardening. A man could make a fortune off a market garden at -Birchknowle, since they brought the branch line there--a fortune. I told -Dunning so; and I told Brigstock the same. And so they’ve lost a couple -of thousand pounds to the estate when the year’s rent that Brigstock -looked for only came to three hundred! Dunning’s a muddler.” - -“I wonder will young Mr. Wingfield find that out for himself?” - -Mr. Wadhurst looked up from his plate with a very grim smile. - -“He’s not the sort to find things out for himself--he has no head, I -tell you,” he replied. “Ducks and drakes--that’s the sort of game that -will be played by the young ass until every penny’s gone.” - -“It’s a pretty large poultry bill that will absorb twelve thousand a -year, to say nothing of the accumulations,” said Priscilla. - -“Poultry bill? Pheasants, do you mean?” he said. - -“Ducks and drakes--that was what you mentioned,” said she. - -He shook his head in reproof of his daughter’s levity. - -“When a young spendthrift makes spending the business of his life you -may trust him to run through a million in a month. I wonder if he’ll -ever find out about the pheasants. Dunning did pretty well out of the -pheasants.” - -“Perhaps he put down all that he made by them--put it down to the credit -side of the estate,” she suggested; and again he smiled that grim -smile of his--the smile of the shrewd man who is conscious of his own -shrewdness. - -“If he was doing that he wouldn’t have taken the trouble to bind Jenkins -over to secrecy,” said the farmer. - -“But you found out all about it in spite of Jenkins being bound over,” - said she. - -He smiled less grimly, accepting her compliment, and then rose from the -table, having finished his supper, and went into the room that he used -as his office. His business methods were admirable. For over thirty -years he had spent an hour in his office every night before going to -bed. This space out of every day was small, but it was quite enough to -enable him to know exactly how he stood financially from one week to -another. His system was admirable; but it had helped to kill his wife. - -When Priscilla went to her own room and looked out upon that May night -of pale starlight and clear sky she could not help feeling that an -element of interest had come into her life, beyond any that had ever -been associated with it. Here was a man who represented an estate of -twelve thousand pounds a year, and the question was, “What is to be the -result of his entering into possession of this splendid property? Is he -to turn it to good account, or to dissipate it like the young fools of -whom I have heard so much lately?” - -Here there was a question of real interest beyond any that had ever -risen above the somewhat restricted horizon of her life. What were all -the questions that her father had to decide in connection with his -farm compared with this? What were all the questions connected with the -social life of Framsby, or even Birchleigh--proud of its ten thousand -inhabitants--compared with this? - -Was he a fool--the fool that her father believed him to be, forming his -conclusion on the reports made to him by Mr. Hickman, the solicitor, at -Framsby--the fool who, according to the proverb, is quickly parted from -his money? - -This was the question the answer to which was bound to influence the -answer that should be given to the other question. - -She could not bring herself to think of him as a fool. To be sure it -could not be denied that his attitude in relation to certain matters was -not at all that which the majority of people would think justifiable; -and in the eyes of most persons, her father included, this fact was in -itself strong presumptive evidence that he was inclined to be a young -fool. A man who declines to fall into line with the prejudices and the -conventionalities of the majority of his elders is looked on as a bit -of a fool. Yes; unless he succeeds in becoming a leader of thought, in -which case he becomes a hero, though as a rule he has been dead some -time before this happens. Priscilla knew a good deal in a general way of -the history of the world, and the men who made history, in action and by -putting their thoughts on paper; but she could not remember one of these -who had not begun life by being looked on as a bit of a fool. - -Now, of all the institutions that have existed for the conservation -of the conventional, Oxford University is the most notorious; and yet -people were ready to call that undergraduate, Mr. Wingfield, a -giddy young fool because he had refused to accede to one of the most -cherished--one of the least worthily cherished--of its conventions! - -Putting the matter in this way, she felt that she had every right to -decline to accept the judgment of such people. - -But what about his own confession to her? Had he not confessed quite -frankly to her that he had no brains? - -He certainly had done so; but what did this prove except that he had -brains? It is only the empty-headed man who thinks that he is largely -endowed with brains. She could recall several little things that Jack -Wingfield had done--she left out of consideration altogether the things -that he had said--which convinced her that he had some ability, and that -he possessed something of the supreme gift of understanding how to make -people do what he wanted them to do. If he had failed to exercise -this valuable endowment of his upon the authorities at Oxford, he had -succeeded in doing so upon the two young women who had paid him that -remarkable visit on the day of his arrival at his home. By the exercise -of extraordinary tact he had induced them to take lunch with him, and to -sit with him afterwards in his drawing-room. If any one had said to her -the day before this happened, “You will go boldly into a strange house, -and you will there meet a young man whom you have never seen before; he -will ask you to remain to lunch before you have even heard his name, or -he yours, and you will accept his invitation without feeling--you -who have been to a ‘finishing school’--that you have done anything -_outre_”--if any one had said this to her she would at once have denied -the possibility of such an incident taking place. And yet it had taken -place, and the tact shown by the young man had made it seem quite an -ordinary matter. - -Did not this show that he possessed the supreme talent of knowing how -to deal with people--how to persuade them that the unique was the -usual--nay, the inevitable? - -And then, what about their coming together on the road? How had he, a -man whom she had seen but once before, and that in no regular way--how -had he succeeded in getting her to confess to him that--that--well, all -that she had confessed? - -She really could not understand how it was that she had been led to -confide in this young Mr. Wingfield what she had not even confided to -her one dear friend, Rosa Caffyn: it must only have been by the -exercise on his part of an extraordinary ability--more than ability, -intuition--that he had drawn from her that confession. And would any one -succeed in persuading her, after this, that Jack Wingfield was a bit of -a fool? - -And what an effect her stroll and chat with him had had upon her! She -had been, as she told him (more confession), plunged into the black -depths of despondency; and yet within five minutes, owing to his -sympathetic attitude--owing to her feeling that he understood her and -sympathized with her and applauded her boldness in standing out against -her father’s prejudices in carrying out that form of hypocrisy known -as mourning--she had been drawn out of the depths and made to feel that -there might yet be a place for her in the world. - -The result of her consideration of the whole of this question--the most -interesting that had ever come within her ken--was to make her feel -that she would like to have it in her power to do something for that -man--something important--something that would make people see that -he was not the brainless spendthrift which so many people, on quite -insufficient evidence, assumed him to be. - -She was perfectly well aware of the fact that she was not in love with -him, and she felt that she understood him so well that she could not -be mistaken in perceiving that neither was he in love with her. She had -always been an observant girl, and she had had several opportunities -of diagnosing--of subjecting to the interpretation of her mental -spectroscope, so to speak--the various phases incidental to the progress -of the phenomena of falling in love. She had never actually been in -love herself, but several men had been in love with her, and with the -exception of her music master at that finishing school, whose methods -were very pronounced, all her incipient lovers had behaved alike, and -she could see no difference between the way their love affected them -and the way it affected some of the living things of the farm. The -ingratiating tones of voice, the alternate little shynesses and -boldnesses, the irritation at the approach of any others of the same -sex, and the overweening desire to appear at their best before the -object of their worship--all these foolish, pretty ways incidental to -the condition known as being in love, she had observed in her incipient -lovers, in common with other animals; and her observance of them enabled -her to be always on her guard. - -But he showed no sign of being even momentarily under such an influence -as suggested its presence in some of the ways she knew so well. She -felt that he was not in love with her, and she was glad that he was not. -There is no such breaking up of friendship as love, and she felt -that one suggestion of love on his part--one glance of love’s -admiration--would have been enough to prevent her from looking forward -to a hard-and-fast friendship with this young man of great interests -in life. He had treated her all along in exactly the right spirit of -companionship. There had not been a false note in their interchange of -words. Their sympathies were alike, and their sense of humour. But she -had noticed that there had been a certain lack of enthusiasm in the tone -of his voice when referring to some matters upon which she would have -been disposed to speak with warmth; there was the shrug of a man who has -seen a good deal, in some of the things that he had said; and she had -felt that his experiences, whatever they had been, had tended to make -him too tolerant, and toleration she had good reason to believe was -mostly the result of laziness. He was the sort of man who underrated his -own powers, and was therefore disinclined to be active in the exercise -of such ability as he possessed. - -And then this farseeing young woman perceived that his grandfather had -made a mistake in his over-anxiety to avoid one. If Jack Wingfield had -entered upon possession of his property when he was six years younger -he might have set about its management with enthusiasm, but in the -interregnum to which he was forced to submit he had lost (she believed) -something of the sanguine nature of the very young, which often causes -them to do better work than they feel inclined ever to set their hand to -later on. - -But then she reflected that, however tolerant he had shown himself to -be in talking of things in general, he had been as warm as she could -possibly have wished in his criticism of the “best set” in Framsby and -the empty arrogance of its leaders. Possibly it was her recollection of -this fact that caused her to feel that she had never yet met a man on -whose behalf she would do all that it was possible for her to do--it was -with regret that she reflected upon how little it was in her power to do -for him. She hoped that he would before long show the people around him -who thought him a fool, that he was very far removed from being a -fool. She did not stop to think if her anxiety on his behalf might not -possibly have its origin in the feeling that if he proved himself -too sapient he could hardly be guilty of the folly of striking up a -friendship with her. - -She sat for a long time at her open window, breathing the sweet scents -of that May night, and feeling better satisfied with the world than she -had felt since she had last sat at that window, trying to realize the -idea that the man who held her in bondage was dead. At that time all her -thoughts had been of the past; but now they were all of the future. -The idea of a sincere and far-reaching friendship with a man was very -pleasing to her. It took away from her the sense of isolation. She -recalled many cases of which she had read of the admirable operation -of a true friendship between a man and a woman, and why might it not be -possible, after all, for her to help the man of whom she was thinking -in some way by which his interests in the world might be appreciably -advanced? - -The thought of this possibility was much more agreeable to her _amour -propre_ than any thought of the possibility of his loving her would have -been upon this particular night. - -And all the joy of the silver summer night was about her as she sat -there. Her own garden was just beneath her window, and in its borders -the groups of old-fashioned spring flowers could be dimly seen through -the silver-shot air. From the meadow at the foot of the Downs came the -barking of a dog, and the sound was faintly answered from the shepherd’s -hut higher up. There was the occasional lowing of one of the herd of -Jerseys, only a short time sent out to the grass and not yet used to the -change. Every now and again a bat flapped between her face and the sheen -of the sky, and gave her the impression of the hand of some ghostly -figure making a grasp at something close to her. At rarer intervals a -still more spectral thing swooped by, and its passage was followed by -the squeal of a rat, and later by a “tu-whit-tu-whoo” of the barn owl. - -She leant out of the window so that she could see the dark, many-folded -cloud spreading itself abroad halfway across the valley through which -the Wadron wandered. That cloud represented the trees of Overdean Manor. -The Manor House was hidden by the summer boskage of the Park, so that -she saw nothing of it--not even a light in one of the windows. - -She drew back into her room and, after another interval of thought, -unfastened the clasps of her clothes and let them slip down to her feet; -she had already loosened the coils of her hair, and now, by a shake of -her head, her white shoulders and the exquisite full curves of -roseate flesh were deluged with a thousand little cascades flowing and -overflowing with the unevenness of a torrent on which a fitful moon is -shining. She began her task of brushing, and went on with it for five -minutes until her arms began to ache. Then she wove her plaits, and -in crossing the room to get her nightdress she caught a glimpse of her -figure passing the tall looking-glass. The glimpse did not interest her -in the least. She did not cast a second glance at the glass. She slipped -her nightdress over her head, blew out her candles, and went into bed. - -No, she was not in the least in love with the man of whom she had been -thinking. - - - - -CHAPTER X - -The news that young Mr. Wingfield had come not only into possession of -the property which he had inherited, after the interval made compulsory -by the will, but into residence at the Manor House as well, did not take -long to spread round Framsby. Framsby was ready to receive him to her -great motherly heart. The fact of his being a prodigal did not interfere -in the least with the warmth of the maternal embrace which Framsby was -preparing for him; nay, it actually increased the enthusiasm with which -the sentiment of his coming was hailed. Is it not well known that the -prodigal son is the nearest to the mother’s heart of all her family? - -Now, nothing was known of the details of Jack Wingfield’s prodigality; -but the terms of his grandfather’s will had assumed that his prodigality -would be a matter of course, and all Framsby were ready to stand by the -inference of so interesting a legal document. If there was any doubt -in the matter, they were quite ready to give him the benefit of it by -assuming that the piquancy of prodigality was attached to him. He would -make the money fly, no fear! was the prediction of the men who winked -at one another in the evening over the pewter measures of the “Field -and Furrow”; and the tradesmen of Framsby hoped with all their heart and -soul that he would. A prodigal during the first few years of his career -is the idol of the tradesmen; later on they think of Jeroboam the son of -Nebat first, and of the fate that befell his house, and of Pharaoh the -monarch of Egypt afterwards. They turn away from the worship of idols -and harden their hearts at the suggestion of credit. - -But of course it was the representatives of the right set at Framsby -who were most interested in the news that Jack Wingfield had come to -the Manor House. The truth was that eligible men were not numerous in -Framsby or the neighbourhood; and this was, socially speaking, rather a -pity, considering what a number of eligible women there were. The worst -of a country society, or, for the matter of that, the society in any -community, is that every woman is “eligible,” but only a man here and -there. Every girl in Framsby considered herself eligible, and her mother -agreed with her; but there the matter began and ended. The select set -was not the set from which eligible men made their selection, and the -consequence was that the number of unmarried young women of various ages -between twenty and forty-six became oppressive to any statistician -who was thinking with interest, increased by alarm, of the future -generation. - -But none of them gave up all hope. Some of them hunted a little and got -themselves splashed thoroughly with the mud of many ditches, and torn -woefully with the briars of many gaps, and the barbarities of numerous -fences--they made themselves blowsy at hockey and brown at golf, hoping -that they would be taken for young women still; but they would not have -minded being taken for middle-aged women or elderly women, if only they -would be taken. It seemed, however, as if no man would take them at any -estimate. Their devotion to sport was keen, but, unhappily, keenness -does not invariably mean proficiency. It means talk, and there was -consequently plenty of talk at Framsby about golf and hockey and lawn -tennis and croquet, but the examples of play given by the exponents of -every one of these games were deplorable. The Tennis and Croquet Club, -however, absorbed practically the whole time of the members of the right -set throughout the summer; but when it became known that the Manor House -was occupied by Mr. Wingfield and his mother, the civility of these -representatives of Framsby society caused them to steal some hours from -the courts to pay their respects to the newcomers; and within a week -Mrs. Wingfield and her son received twenty-five visitors, and an equal -number of offers to propose them as members of the Lawn Tennis and -Croquet Club. Unfortunately, Mr. Wingfield had not an opportunity of -making the acquaintance of any of those visitors, the fact being that he -had slipped out upon that convenient terrace which went round the front -and the side of the house, the moment that the approach of the visitors -became imminent. In two cases he was just half a minute too late to be -absolutely free from any charge of impoliteness: the French window of -the drawing-room, by which he was escaping, was stiff and jerky in one -case, and in the other the edge of one wing got caught in the curtains, -thereby detaining him most awkwardly for several seconds. The back view -of him which the callers obtained did not afford them sufficient data -for a detailed description of young Mr. Wingfield, but they made the -most of it in conversation with their less fortunate associates the next -day. - -“Have you called on the Manor people yet? What, not yet? We were there -yesterday. My husband knew old Mr. Wingfield very well, you know. Mrs. -Wingfield is a charming person--quite handsome still. She had been -looking forward to seeing us. She feared that there were no families -with whom she could make real friends in this neighbourhood.” - -“Was the son there? Did you see the son?” - -“Ah, yes, we saw him--only for a short time, however; he had to hurry -off to keep an appointment. What is he like? Oh, quite nice--rather -retiring, I should say.” - -“We heard some rather dreadful stories about him. Did he seem wild?” - -“Oh, nothing to speak of. It doesn’t do to believe all that one hears -about young men like that. I hear that the property, even allowing -for the unlet farms, amounts to something close upon twenty thousand a -year.” - -And then the audience raised interested eyebrows and smiled complete -acquiescence in the obvious truth that one should be slow to believe -anything to the discredit of an eligible bachelor with an income -approaching twenty thousand pounds a year. - -It so happened, however, that Jack Wingfield was something of a lawn -tennis player, and he had already entered for an open tournament to be -held on the Framsby ground the first week in June; and he was glad -when his mother told him that she had accepted the offer of Mrs. -Bowlby-Sutherst to put up his name and her own for the club. Jack -Wingfield belonged to Ranelagh and Hurlingham and a couple of lawn -tennis clubs, and he had snatched a second-class prize now and again at -Cannes and Mentone. He had been told encouragingly by the men who had -beaten him that he had in him the making of a first-class player; -and perhaps he had, but he had also in him an inherited trait of -self-depreciation which prevented him from working hard to attain -anything. He thought very poorly of himself all round; and when urged by -competent advisers to give himself a chance, he had invariably given his -shrug, saying, “What’s the good? I’ll never be anything but a plater or -an ‘also ran.’ I get some fun out of it as it is, but I’ll never do more -than I have done.” - -So it was with cricket and polo. He never took every ounce out of -himself in fighting for anything. - -Framsby’s lawn tennis week begins on the first Monday in June, and the -tournament being an open one, and several champions and ex-champions -coming to take part in it, some good play was certain to be seen when -the Framsby folk were got rid of, which was usually during the first -day’s play. Moreover, there was a “gate” during this week, so that the -ground, sacred for the rest of the year to the members, was invaded by -outsiders with shillings in their hands--five shillings for the week. - -And that was how it came that Priscilla Wadhurst contrived to put in an -appearance at the club from the membership of which she was excluded by -the engineering of the select and the elect. - -This was the first time she was seen by the Framsby people since her -name had appeared in the local papers in brackets at the foot of the -account of the loss of the barque _Kingsdale_; and there was a consensus -of opinion in the pavilion that she showed rather more than doubtful -taste in exhibiting herself to the public--the phrase was Mrs. -Gifford’s. Mrs. Gifford was the senior member of the select, the wife -of the colonial gentleman with a pension. “But it was just what might be -expected from her,” another of the set whispered to her when Priscilla -passed in front of the pavilion. The pair took good care to be so -engrossed in conversation together that even an ambitious young woman -like Priscilla could hardly have looked for a recognition from them. -(She was on nodding terms with the most exclusive ladies in Framsby, but -only when they met her in the street--not upon special occasions when -important strangers were present, who might go away with the notion that -they were intimate with her.) - -But whatever bad taste Priscilla showed in appearing in a public place -so soon after the death of the man who had tried to wreck her life, no -one could suggest that any detail of her dress was not tasteful. All -that people might have found fault with was her dress as a whole. And -a good many of her own sex availed themselves of such a chance. She -was undoubtedly a widow, and yet she bore no token of widowhood in her -dress; and so the right set either turned their eyes toward each others’ -faces as she passed, or gazed at some point in space a considerable -distance above her head. Thus they avoided hurting her feelings by -letting her see how shocked they were. - -But all the same she knew that they wished it to be known that they -were shocked; and she also knew that they would not have been so greatly -shocked if her dress had not fitted so extremely well. A chastened -spirit and a misfit invariably go together in some people’s minds. - -Priscilla knew what it was to dress well, and she was quite aware of the -difference there is between a garden party and a lawn tennis meeting. -She wore the simplest hat and the simplest frock; both white, and -neither relieved by the least touch of colour. But the hat and the frock -and the shoes and the gloves and the sunshade were the best that money -could buy. They were the sort of things that owed their distinction to -the wearer, and only when she had served them in this way did they show -their generosity by conferring distinction upon her. - -“Who is that exquisite creature?” said one of the strangers in the front -row of the pavilion seats, as Priscilla moved past without so much as -casting a glance at the occupants of any of the seats. - -“An exquisite creature, indeed!” said the one to whom the remark was -addressed. “She walks like a goddess; and what hair!” - -The two of the right set smiled each in the other’s face, with the -corners of their lips turned down. They could hardly resist giving the -strangers the information that she was not an exquisite creature, but -only a farmer’s daughter. - -But before they had straightened their lips once more the ladies in -front of them, who had followed Priscilla with their eyes, were becoming -excited. - -“Dear me!” cried one. “Cynthia is speaking to her. I hope she will bring -her here.” - -“How nice of Cynthia!” said the other. - -The Framsby people, by putting their heads slightly forward, saw that a -big girl in tennis costume and with a racket in her hand had sprung up -from a seat where she had been resting between games, and flung herself -upon Priscilla, kissing her impetuously and then roaring with laughter. -Priscilla had received her onslaught only a trifle more sedately, and -they stood together on the turf beside one of the courts, chatting like -old friends who have not met for years. - -And now the Framsby people saw that the young girl was pointing with her -racket to the pavilion, and then leading Priscilla back by the way she -had come. She led her, still chatting briskly, until they were both -beside the two strangers in the front row. - -“Mother,” said the girl, “your chance has come at last;--this is -Priscilla the Puritan maiden.” - -The lady got upon her feet. - -“Not Miss Wadhurst?” she said. “But of course you are Miss Wadhurst. -I should have known you from Cynthia’s photograph, only you are older -now--more--what shall I say?--no, not more--less, yes, you are less of a -girl.” - -“That is charmingly put, Lady Gainsforth,” said Priscilla. - -The Framsby ones gasped. So that was the Countess of Gainsforth, and -that girl was her daughter, Lady Cynthia Brooks, the great tennis -player, who was waiting for the mixed doubles. They gasped together; and -then each tried to outdo the other in an attempt to catch Priscilla’s -eye. One of them succeeded, but somehow Priscilla missed seeing her even -with the eye that she caught, and the next moment Priscilla was being -presented to the second lady, whose name was Mrs. Marlowe. - -And then the four began to chat of matters far beyond the horizon of -Framsby folk--of the old school where it seemed the girls had been -together--of Lady Gainsforth’s kindness in asking Priscilla to stay -at Gainsforth Towers during the Cowes week, which Priscilla so greatly -appreciated, only regretting that she had promised to go with the Von -Hochmans to their villa at Honnef-on-Rhine; and after all the Count had -been ill, so that they had nothing of him or his opera. Oh, yes, the -opera was produced at Frankfort and afterwards at Nice. - -“Why, did they not sing your old English song in it?” asked Lady -Gainsforth. - -“Oh, yes,” replied Priscilla. “It was highly praised too in one of the -papers. This is what they said about it”--here followed half-a-dozen -phrases in French, which might have been Sanscrit to the listening -Framsby folk--and Priscilla went on: - -“Vanity, was it not, committing the criticism to memory?” - -“Shocking vanity!” laughed Lady Cynthia, and when Lady Cynthia laughed -the people in the furthest court looked round, and then they laughed -also. - -But the Framsby folk did not laugh, although they were closer to the -cyclonic centre. They were, however, ready to smile should Priscilla -give them the chance. But Priscilla was a hard woman; she could so -easily have spoken to them; and after that it would have been a simple -matter introducing them to Lady Gainsforth and Mrs. Marlowe as the -leaders of society in Framsby; but Priscilla would not do it, just -because they had taken some pains to cut her a quarter of an hour -earlier. Oh, she was a hard woman for one so young! - -Lady Cynthia had, however, betrayed her whereabouts by her laugh, and -one of the officials of the Association sent her a message to the effect -that the second of the Mixed Doubles would be played when the court -would be vacant at the end of the Gentlemen’s Singles. - -“I must rush,” she cried. “I have a good fighting chance for the M.D.s., -though not a ghost of one for the L.S.s. Come round with me, Prissy.” - -Priscilla said _au revoir_ to Lady Gainsforth and Mrs. Marlowe and -strolled away with Lady Cynthia’s arm through hers; but before she had -turned the corner of the pavilion she found herself face to face with -Mr. Wingfield, and he took off his cap and greeted her also as if he -was an old friend--it seemed that he had been talking to Lady Cynthia -earlier in the day. - -Framsby gaped and then gasped. - - - - -CHAPTER XI - -In a few minutes they were alone together, Lady Cynthia having hurried -to the court which was now vacant. They were alone, with something like -two hundred people about them. - -“I have not seen her for two years,” said she. “Funny, isn’t it, that -girls may be the closest of chums at school and yet never see each other -again in life? Of course it is less funny in regard to Lady Cynthia and -myself, because we move in what’s called different spheres.” - -“Of course,” he assented with a laugh. “I never thought of that. Yes, to -be sure; you are the daughter of a farmer and her sire is an earl. Her -grandfather was a working navvy, and no human being knows who -his father was. Your grandfather and great-grandfather and -great-great-great-grand-grand-grandfather was a Wad-hurst of Athalsdean -on back to the time of William the Conqueror, a noted robber who -flourished in the year ten hundred and something, and brought over a -crowd of gaolbirds to England to turn out the Saxons. They didn’t turn -out the Wadhurst of the time, and so here you are moving in a different -sphere from Lady Cynthia. And that brings us up to the present moment. -Now maybe you’ll tell me in what particular sphere you’ve been moving -since I saw you last. That’s ten days ago. I hoped to have the chance of -coming across you at some place.” - -“I have not been very far beyond the boundaries of the farm,” she said. -“I have been fully occupied. You see, I’m very fond of two things--music -and milk, and both are absorbing all my time.” - -“I could understand music absorbing you, but surely it’s you who absorb -the milk, if you like it,” said he. - -“It wasn’t that sort of absorption,” she said. “No one knows anything -about milk by drinking it.” - -“And what on earth do you do with it?” - -“Test it--analyse it; so that at a moment’s notice you can say what it -is.” - -“It’s never anything but milk, is it--before it’s wheeled off to -the railway stations and sent up to the retailers who mix it with -things--water and boracic acid?” - -“That’s the haphazard way in which a dairy was run until recently. My -father used actually to run his on the same want of principle. It was I -who got the laboratory built, and now he works it on a proper system. We -got rid of over fifty cows in a fortnight--some of them were believed by -the dairy manager to be the best on the farm. It was only after a -number of tests that I found out that their milk contained only the most -miserable proportion of the true component parts of good milk.” - -“And was it worth your while, may I ask?” - -She looked at him in surprise. - -“Worth our while? Why, the milk question is the most important that -exists in England or anywhere else at the present moment. It is not -going too far to say that the whole future of England depends upon the -milk consumed by the people. Milk is the most marvellous thing in the -world. It seems to me that it should be given a place in Nature all to -itself. There is nothing so marvellous as milk, believe me.” - -“It’s not so popular as beer in most localities. But now that I come to -think of it, I fancy that you are right about it. It certainly is worth -your while keeping your eye on it.” - -“Oh, everything is worth one’s while if one does it properly.” - -“Everything--except farming, it would appear. Dunning, my agent, has -a very bad account to give of our farms--three of them without -tenants--the largest has had no tenant for over three years. That’s not -encouraging.” - -“What are you going to do?” - -“What can I do?” - -“Why is the largest farm unlet?” - -“Bad times; the chap who had it last threw it up in despair. He wanted -to get it rent free for a year and half-rent for the next two so that he -might carry out some wild-cat scheme of market gardening on the French -principle.” - -“And why didn’t Mr. Dunning let him have it on his own terms?” - -“I suppose Dunning knows. He saw that the market garden notion was all -tommy rot.” - -“Did he go into the matter thoroughly--scientifically? Did he show you -the basis of his calculations, and did you verify them?” - -“Is it I? Great Gloriana! Where should I be by the side of Dunning?” - -“You would be there--by the side of Dunning, and you would make Dunning -look silly. Why should you accept any man’s judgment without figures? -Make him give you figures.” - -“He said it would be madness to give him the place rent free for a -year.” - -“But you have given it over to Nature, rent free, for three years. The -figures that Mr. Dunning has given you are £2,000 with a minus sign in -front.” - -“That’s a fact. You are beginning to wake me up, Miss Wadhurst. I wish I -wasn’t so lazy. But that market garden scheme--Dunning says the chap had -been reading up a lot of stuff that was written about the French system, -and that turned his head.” - -“It turned his head--yes, it turned it in the right direction, Mr. -Wingfield; that farm would make a fortune for any one setting to work it -solely for market produce.” - -“God bless my soul!” Jack Wingfield stopped dead when Priscilla had -spoken--they had gone beyond the green limits of the furthest of the -nets and were walking under the group of trees that had been allowed to -remain standing when the ground had been deforested in order to make -the tennis courts. “God bless my soul!” he repeated, in quite a reverent -voice, which he assumed to counteract the suggested levity of his first -utterance of the exclamation. - -“Have I startled you?” she asked. “I meant to startle you. I used -every art that I could think of to startle you. I should be horribly -disappointed if you had remained unmoved.” - -“Unmoved,” he said, in a slow way, moving from one syllable to the -other. “Unmoved. I say, there’s a seat in a reasonable place under those -trees. Let us make for it. I want to hear more.” - -“I can’t quite see that you are justified in practically leaving the -courts when you may be called on at any moment to play your game.” - -“Oh, it doesn’t matter; I’ve got no chance of anything. The people here -are too good for me. I don’t bother myself working up my game until the -week before.” - -“You never will do anything in the world on that principle.” - -“I don’t suppose I shall; but what’s the odds? You can’t turn out a -Derby winner if you have only a humdrum roadster to go upon.” - -“And you are content to live the life of a humdrum roadster?” - -“The roadster that looks to win the Derby is an ass--a fool! Now isn’t -he?” - -“I’m not sure of that. He may become the fastes roadster of his day, and -that’s something. No, I’ll not’ encourage you to sit on that lazy man’s -seat under the trees. I want you to play every ounce you have in you in -your game. I don’t want the strangers to go away at the end of the week -saying that there isn’t a player in this neighbourhood.” - -“Oh, let the game go hang! I want you to tell me what you meant by -startling me as you did just now. What did you mean when you said that -about the market garden? Was it merely a ruse to draw me out?” - -They were now standing on the low natural terrace with the trees at -their back. She lowered her sunshade. - -“I meant to startle you, but not at the sacrifice of the truth,” she -replied firmly. “We know all about that farm. My father, who is the best -judge of land in the county, and who has made more by this knowledge -than any man in the county, went over every inch of the farm, and he is -absolutely certain that it would make the fortune of any man working it -as a market garden.” - -“If I was startled a minute ago, I’m amazed just now,” said he. “Does -your father not believe in Dunning?” - -“I can tell you nothing about that,” she replied, shaking her head. “I -can’t say what his opinion of Mr. Dunning may be, but he knows something -about men and farms and--cats and mice.” - -“If he has a working knowledge of parables he beats me,” said Wingfield. -“Cats and mice--what have cats and--Oh, Lord! maybe I do see it after -all. When the cat’s away---” - -“Exactly. And you told me that you hadn’t brains!” - -“Your father thinks that Dunning is no exception to the rule that -applies to cats and mice?” - -“I’m sure he thinks that he could convince you in a day or two that that -farm could be worked at a profit if the worker turned it into a market -garden, and showed the railway that it would be greatly to their -advantage to give him siding and a wagon all to himself. You could do -that, Mr. Wingfield. What have you on your hands just now?” - -“Time,” he said mournfully. “I’ve time on my hands, and by the Lord -Harry it hangs pretty heavy there. I was just thinking how on earth I -was going to put in the summer in this place.” - -“And you haven’t been here more than a month?” - -“Even so. What is a chap to do when he has pottered about the place with -a couple of fat dogs at his heels? I love summer and I love the place, -but what is a chap to do to keep himself from dying by sheer boredom?” - -“Good gracious!” she cried, lifting up her beautifully-fitting gloves so -that he was as much impressed by the movement as he would have been if -her arms had been bare. “Good gracious! You can talk of being bored at a -place so full of possibilities as yours!” - -“Possibilities? You see possibilities in the place as well as in me? You -look through the eyes of an incorrigible optimist. Your generosity runs -away with you. Possibilities? Should I learn how to test the quality of -milk, for example? I believe there is a pretty good lot of beasts at the -home farm. I wonder, by the way, what becomes of all the milk.” - -“Look into that. I don’t want to be the means of depriving any deserving -or undeserving family of their perquisites; but you take the first -opportunity of placing the transaction--the benefaction--on a proper -basis. And take the advice of one who knows, and get rid of that nice -lot of beasts which you have heard are on the home farm.” - -“You mean to say that they are not a nice lot?” - -“They were a nice lot ten years ago, my father told me; but instead of -being kept up to the highest level, they have been allowed to degenerate -to a frightful extent.” - -“How?” - -“The same way as any first-class stock degenerates--by marrying beneath -them. Now the matrimonial alliances among the beasts on that farm would -make any matchmaking mother weep. There’s not one in the family that did -not make a _mesalliance_ at some time of her life. And your grandfather -was so careful in this respect. If you have any respect for his memory -you will get rid of the lot.” - -He was greatly interested in her revelations, and said so, adding, - -“What a juggins you must all think me! But I suppose that was because -you worked on the same principle as Adam did when he was asked to give -the fox a name. ‘I’ll call it a fox,’ said he, ‘and a better name you’ll -not get for it, because it’s a fox, if I know anything about animals.’ -You couldn’t find a better name for me than a juggins, because I am -one.” - -“That’s nonsense,” she said. “There’s nothing of the juggins about you -if I know what a juggins is. If you were one would you be talking here -to me on the most important topics that an owner of property can talk -about, when you might be criticizing some of the play at the nets? And -if I thought you a juggins would I talk to you for five minutes--for one -single minute? I’m mistress of myself. I’m independent of the opinion -of any of the people here. I see no reason to be bored for the sake of -being polite. I told you the last time we met just what I thought of -you, and since then I’ve thought more on precisely the same lines. Of -course I feel flattered at your listening to all that I have to say; but -I’m not so eager for flattery that I should bother myself talking to you -for the pure joy of seeing you listen to me with one ear while I knew -that all the time everything I said was trickling out by the other. Now -the next word you say depreciating yourself will make me consider that -you are trying to depreciate me, so I’ll get up and walk away, or else -say something about the weather.” - -He had turned his eyes slowly upon her in the course of her long -speech--she had spoken her words so rapidly and with such animation it -did not seem so very long--and by the time she had ended, which she had -with a little flush, he was gazing at her with an expression that was -bordering upon wonderment. In the pause that followed, his expression -had become lighted up with admiration. Then he looked away from her, -and rubbed the tip of his chin with the tip of one forefinger. He became -very thoughtful, and the break in their conversation was so long as -to assume the proportions of an irreparable rupture. It was, however, -nothing of the sort. It was long only because he found it necessary to -review and to revise some of the most highly cherished beliefs of his -life, and the young woman beside him was fully aware that this was so. -She had no mind to obtrude upon his course of thought. - -At last he spoke. - -“I wonder if you could tell me if I really did think myself a juggins,” - he said. - -“Why do you ask me such a question, Mr. Wingfield?” - -“Because you have opened my eyes to so many things. You have shown that -you can read me like a book.” - -“Before I talk to you about reading you like a book, I will try to -answer your question. I believe that from the first you have been -in contact with very foolish people--as foolish as the people at -Framsby--it has been called ‘foolish Framsby’ before now.” - -“If not, we’ll call it so now. Go on.” - -“These people, I have an impression, assumed that because your -grandfather so arranged things that you should not take over the -property until you were twenty-seven, you were bound to be the sort -of person your grandfather believed you would be, and they treated -you accordingly, and you were content to accept yourself at their -valuation.” - -He almost sprang out of his chair, making in the excitement of the -moment a downward smash with his racket which, if it had taken place in -the course of a set, would never have had a chance of being returned by -an opponent. - -“Great Gloriana! you have hit the nail on the head!” he said. “I don’t -know how you’ve come to know it, but you have come to know it; and -now you’ve let me into the secret, and I’m hanged if it isn’t the most -important secret of my life--it’s a revelation--that’s what it is! I’ve -been now and again at the point of finding it out, but I never got so -far. I don’t know how you came to make the discovery, but you have done -it, and by the Lord Harry Augustus it has made a new man of me!” - -Suddenly he appeared to recover himself. He had spoken so excitedly that -he had not only startled her, he had also drawn the attention of some -one who was standing by the nearest of the courts, and that person--a -stranger--was smiling. - -He dropped into his seat at once, saying, “I beg your pardon; I’m making -rather a fool of myself; but--well, it can’t be helped.” - -“Don’t trouble yourself about him,” she said--she saw that he had -noticed that the stranger had noticed him. “He’ll only fancy that we are -quarrelling; but we’re not, so it doesn’t matter.” - -“Not a tinker’s curse,” he replied, with more than necessary emphasis. -Then he turned to her and spoke, leaning forward, swinging his racket -between his knees, so as to convince the observant stranger that he was -not so excited after all. “I tell you that you have hit upon the mistake -that I have made all my life and that everybody about me has made,” - he said. “From the first it was taken for granted that because my poor -father was a fool I must be one too. I tell you that I took it for -granted myself. Now, when a chap starts life in that way what chance has -he, I should like to know? When a poor devil is told by every one around -him that he has in him the seeds of an incurable disease--consumption, -or cancer, or something--what chance has he? I never had a chance. That -was why I made an ass of myself at Oxford. Oh, those blessed trustees! -They told me when they were sending me to Oxford that they were -perfectly certain I should make an ass of myself, and they somehow made -me feel that it was inevitable that I should, and so I rode for a -fall. I see it now. And it was the same when I went on my travels. They -believed that I wanted to paint every place sealing-wax red that I came -to, as I had painted the college oak navy blue, and they made that an -excuse for cutting down my allowance to bedrock--they didn’t let me have -enough to buy turpentine even at wholesale price to mix my paint.” - -“And you didn’t buy a can or two of distemper--distemper is what young -dogs suffer from, and you were a sad young dog, you know,” said she, -laughing under her breath. - -“I never did any painting at all after Oxford,” he said. “I had really -only now and again an inclination for it. I give you my word that I -began to feel ashamed--actually ashamed--at my own tameness, and it was -really because I did so that I now and again nerved myself to go on a -bust. Gloriana! what poor busts they were. I never came in touch with -the police but once, and nothing came of it; the judge--every magistrate -is a judge out there--began to laugh at the business--it had something -to do with a mule, of course--and then the _polis_ began to laugh, and -so the bust bust up, with every one grinning, and making me feel that -I was pretty bit of a mug that couldn’t even get up a row that would be -taken seriously.” - -“What did you do to the poor mule?” she asked, for she had detected -the note of despondency in his voice as he told her the story of his -failure, and she wanted to cheer him up. - -“Oh, it was some rot or other,” he replied. “There was the old mule, -with his ears going like the fans of a screw propeller, and his tail -whisking mosquitoes into eternity by the thousand, and there was the -basket with the eggs, and when the mule man went into the wineshop with -the woman that had laid down the basket, what was there to be done?” - -“You needn’t ask me; you saw for yourself. But after all you only got -the length of painting the pavement a nice yellow--not vermilion. It’s -no wonder that the judge laughed.” - -“I suppose it isn’t. But you needn’t. I’m sorry I said anything about -the mule. You may begin to think that I’m not serious in all that I -say.” - -“Are you serious?” she cried very seriously. - -“I give you my word that I am. The scales have fallen from my eyes. I’ll -never think of myself as a juggins again. Oh, confound this fellow! He’s -looking for me. I think I’ll scratch for the rest of the day. I’ve no -chance against Glenister. Yes, I’ll tell him----” - -“Now’s your chance,” she said earnestly. “If you have made up your mind -not to treat yourself in future as your trustees and the rest treated -you in the past, you’ll play every ounce that’s in you in this -tournament and ever afterwards.” - -He looked at her. - -“What’s a set or two--knocking a ball backwards and forwards across a -net, when we’re talking together on a vital matter?” he said peevishly. -“I want to have my talk out with you and--here he comes, I’ll tell him -to go to----” - -“To the court and wait for you,” she said, rising. “Now’s your chance. -If there’s anything in what I’ve said to you or you’ve said to me, -you’ll play as you never played before. Now just try the experiment.” - -He looked at her again--steadily--in a way that he had never looked at -her before. - -“By God I will!” he said, and marched off to meet the man who had come -in search of him for the second of the singles. - -The man was cross and confounded him properly for a dam skulker. He was, -of course, a particular friend of Jack Wingfield’s, or he would have -frozen him with politeness. - - - - -CHAPTER XII - -Priscilla watched him with a considerable amount of interest, for -she was far enough away from the crowds at the courts to allow of her -watching him without feeling that she was being watched. She saw how he -was walking--swiftly--eagerly--a foot or two ahead of the man who had -found him--his head slightly bent forward, his fingers clutching the -grip of his racket as though he were ready to return with fury the ball -that had been served to him with a smash--as if he had made up his mind -that the man who sowed the wind (within an indiarubber sphere) should -reap the whirlwind--if he could. - -He never looked back--that she noticed with the greatest amount of -interest. If he had looked back she would have felt that she had not -succeeded in her endeavour to force him to take every ounce out of -himself. But now she saw that she had been successful. - -Was she just too successful? That was a dreadful question which -suggested itself to her. Was that the proper spirit in which he should -approach his task of getting one step near to the holder of the cup? -Would he not have a better chance if he had gone to the court in the -tranquil spirit that was usually his--the spirit of Horatio--the man -that Fortune’s buffets and awards had ta’en with equal thanks? She knew -that the race is not always to the swift, nor the set to the smasher. -The eager man with the racket is apt to become racketty and not precise; -and she had sent him from her as full of enthusiasm as a schoolboy -arriving in London with a sovereign in one pocket and in the other a -ticket for the pavilion at the Oval for Surrey v, Sussex, and Ranji 75 -not out the previous evening. - -For a while she had a grave misgiving. She felt that after all she had -misjudged the man. She had never believed that he would be capable of -anything like this within half an hour of her beginning to speak to him. -She had never believed in sudden conversions--the _tours de force_ of -the brilliant evangelist; and she had fancied that it would take her -several days, extending over the whole summer, to convince that man -that there was something in him. And yet there he was, profane--actually -profane in his enthusiasm in less than half an hour! - -And the worst of it was that she had been foolish enough to allow her -action in this matter to suggest that she was staking her reputation as -a prophetess upon the event. That was very foolish on her part. No sibil -worthy of the name would have done this. The sibil made her book with -wisdom and caution, a safe hedging and an ambiguous phrase being the -note of her advice. - -Priscilla felt that by laying so much emphasis upon the necessity for -his throwing his whole soul into his game of tennis she had jeopardized -the success of her counsel to him in the matters that mattered. - -She felt angry with herself when this reflection came to her; but a -few minutes later she felt far angrier at the thought that she had been -angry over something that was no business of hers. What did it matter to -her if Jack Wingfield made a fool of himself over his tennis or anything -else or everything else? How could his success affect her one way or -another? - -She really could make no satisfactory reply to this question that -suggested itself to her; for clever and all as she was, she was as -imperfectly acquainted with her own character as most other women are -of theirs. The eagerness with which she had carried out her scheme of -adopting the _role_ of a retributory Providence in respect of Mr. Kelton -had not given her a hint as to what was the dominant impulse of her -nature; nor had her enthusiasm in regard to the working of her father’s -farm and the reform of the dairy revealed it to her; though she had -been on the brink of a discovery of the truth when she had had her -conversation with her friend Rosa going a-primrosing, and had said that -if a man sometimes was the means of a girl’s sudden development into a -woman, she was equally sure that it was a woman who made a man of a man. - -She did not know that in herself was so strongly developed the instinct -of woman to be a maker of men--to put forth her strength in order that -they may be strong. To be the mother of a man child, to give him of the -sustenance of her body, to have him by her side and to have command over -him until he breaks away, as she thinks, from her control, leaving her -in tears, but always ready to advise him in the taking of a wife and to -advise the wife, when she is chosen, how to conduct her household--that -is the best part of the nature of a woman. But the exercise of the power -to influence a man, to make herself necessary to the happiness and the -prosperity of a man, is the most irresistible joy that a woman can know, -though she does not know it. - -Priscilla Wadhurst had felt a certain satisfaction in the thought that -she had the destiny of Mr. Kelton under her fingers, so far as Framsby’s -concerts were concerned; and she had been greatly gratified when her -father had admitted that her reform of the dairy was a step in the -right direction. But what were these triumphs compared to those that she -longed to effect, though she might not have part or lot in the supreme -tableaux in the procession of events? - -And yet, in spite of the consciousness that she had exercised her -influence upon another man for his benefit, she sat there asking herself -why she should feel it as a personal matter whether Jack Wingfield made -a fool of himself over his tennis or in any other way? - -And then she saw once again the look that had appeared on his face for -more than a moment when his eyes were upon her. It had startled her, and -the recollection of it gave her a little fright. But her fright -quickly subsided, and she sat there losing herself and all sense of her -surroundings in the thoughts that came down upon her, not like a riotous -throng of fantastic things, but like a silver mist shot through with a -gleam of golden light here and there, but making everything about her -seem blurred--indefinite as the future seems to any one landing on the -shore of a strange land. - -Suddenly she sprang to her feet--almost as suddenly as he had risen when -in the midst of their little chat together; only the exclamation that -she gave was not the same as his. Hers was derisive, contemptuous, -impatient, and there was certainly something of impatience in her walk -round the courts where play was going on. She had, however, recovered -herself--she had walked herself outside the atmosphere, so to speak, of -whatever thoughts had irritated her--before she had come opposite -the court where Jack Wingfield was playing off the second set of the -“Gentlemen’s Singles”; but even if she had not done so, a few minutes of -watching the game that was in progress would certainly have cleared away -any wisp of mist that might have remained with her on emerging from that -atmosphere of conjecture into which she had allowed herself to stray. - -She slipped into the only unoccupied chair at this court. It was at the -end of the third row of the seats at the side from which Jack Wingfield -was serving. An elderly visitor, wearing a velvet hat built up like a -pagoda, sat immediately in front of her, so that she ran no chance of -being seen by him. This was what, she thought when she took the seat; -but before being in it many seconds she could not help smiling at the -thought of how ridiculous it was to fancy that her coming might divert -his attention for a single moment from the game, to the detriment of his -play. The scheme of Oriental architecture in front of her effectually -hid every inch of the court and the players from her, but her seat being -at the end of the row, she had only to move a few inches to one side to -command a complete and perfect view of the whole; and she perceived in -a moment that the man who was serving with his back to her and to the -whole world and all that is therein, had become compressed into the -spheroid which he held in his left hand preparatory to launching it -like a thunderbolt with a twist over the net. She smiled. If the German -Emperor or Mr. Roosevelt or some other commanding personality had -suddenly appeared on the court, Jack Wingfield would have seen nothing -of him. He had eyes only for the ball. - -But for the ball he surpassed Shelley’s night in the number of eyes that -he had. He was playing against a very good man--a man who, according to -some newspapers, had a very good chance of winning the cup that carried -with it the title of Champion of South Saxony--but Priscilla saw in -a moment how things were going. It seemed to her that it was not Jack -Wingfield who was serving, but quite a different person. She could not -imagine that desperately alert young man who served as if his whole -future were dependent upon his placing the ball on the exact inch of -ground at which he aimed--she could not imagine that this was the Jack -Wingfield of the shrug--the Jack Wingfield who half an hour ago had -been ready to scratch to the man whom he was now playing as if he had no -object in life but his defeat. - -He was playing with an enthusiasm which surprised every one who was -acquainted with his form, and no one more than his antagonist and -himself. Glenister was his antagonist--a brilliant man, not perhaps -quite so brilliant as he believed himself to be, but still as far above -the average in this respect as the sapphire excels the lapis lazuli. He -was a man of resource and imagination, and these qualities often stood -him in good stead; but it was to his brilliancy he trusted to win his -games for him. Priscilla heard the remarks that were being made by -competent critics sitting just behind her; and knowing what Glenister’s -play was, and seeing what Wingfield’s was, she appreciated the accuracy -of the criticisms. - -“Glenny as usual underrated his man,” some one remarked. “That was how -he lost the first two.” - -“He could beat half a dozen Wingfields any day,” was the counter. “How -the mischief could he tell that Wingfield was going to play as he is -now? How the----hallo! Did you see that?” - -“No, what was it? (In a whisper) Confound that hat! What was it?” - -“My aunt! Wingfield played the ball over his shoulder from the line, and -placed it too.” - -“Luck!” - -“I suppose so. No one could have a ghost of a chance of doing more than -getting it over. Is that Wingfield’s third?” - -“His third. He won the first and Glenister pulled off the second. Now -we’ll see what Glenny’s service is worth?” - -And they did. They saw that its brilliancy was simply thrown away upon -Wingfield. He declined to be intimidated by it. He made an attempt to -return every ball, and succeeded in getting the third over; with the -first and second that were served to him Glenister made fifteen and -thirty. But he seemed so greatly surprised by Wingfield’s success with -the third as to be quite satisfied to send it back over the net right -opposite to where Wingfield was standing. Wingfield took a long aim, -and Glenister, watching his eye, ran to the extreme right of the line to -meet the ball; but Wingfield changed his mind and sent it to the extreme -left, making his first score. The next service no human being could have -returned. Forty--fifteen. The next was an easy one, and there was some -splendid play before Glenister got a downward smash which he planted -obliquely not two feet from the net on the left side and got his game. -2--3. - -“Getting into his form, hey?” said one of the critics behind Priscilla. - -“It’s the way with all of them; but Wingfield takes it out of him, all -the same,” was the reply. - -“He does, by George! I didn’t think that Wingfield had it in him; he -always seemed to me a lazy sort of beggar--doesn’t care whether he -wins or loses--doesn’t seem to know which he does. His partners in the -doubles bless him unawares. That was a good serve. My aunt, it was a -good serve! He’s working. Has he something on the game, do you suppose?” - -“If he had he wouldn’t worry as he’s doing. Most likely some pal of -his put a shilling on him and told him. But his backer would do well to -hedge. That’s deuce. Glenny will take all the rest.” - -But this prediction, like the many prophecies of critics, was not -realized. The play on both sides was quick, firm and commonplace, and -Glenister got his vantage. By two more services Wingfield got deuce and -vantage; Glenister returned the third ball, and Wingfield sent it back -in a tight place; but Glenister managed to get under it; he did the same -with Wingfield’s return, only he placed the ball. Wingfield got at it, -however, with his left, and when the other man was returning it to the -bottom of the court far over his head, Wingfield jumped for it, and just -managed to touch it over. His antagonist never even ran for it. - -“Luck!” remarked one of the critics. “That was a lucky win for -Wingfield. It might have gone anywhere.” - -Score 4--2. - -From that moment Glenister seemed to go all to pieces. The next game -realized “game--love,” and the next “game--fifteen,” and Wingfield -walked out, examining with extraordinary attention what he seemed to -think was a defect in the stringing of his racket. He went straight -past Priscilla without seeing her. She meant to say “Well played!” as he -was passing, but when the moment came she found herself speechless. -She could scarcely rise from her chair. She had no notion that her -excitement could have such an effect upon her; and what was strangest of -all to her was the tears in her eyes. Why on earth had the tears come to -her eyes the moment after he had gone past her? - -This was incomprehensible to her. There seemed to her to be no sense in -it. She did not take any exception to the feeling of pride of which -she was conscious, or to the whisper that sounded in her ears: “You -did it--it was you--you--you who made him win, and you have now linked -yourself to his success in life, and you will have to stand by him.” - -That was all right; she had no idea of making any attempt to evade her -responsibility. She had the instincts of a mother; was she one who would -set a child on its feet in the middle of the roadway and then run away? -She had talked to him so that his success in that match which he had -just played had become something like the ordeal of drawing lots in -the days when the Powers took care that there was no tomfoolery in the -business; she had taken on her the _rôle_ of the prophetess and had in -effect said to him, “Lo! this shall be a sign unto thee”--and he had -accepted the hazard which she suggested to him, and had won, though the -odds, as he knew, were against him. - -Well, the thing having worked out so, would he not follow up the -dictation of the sign? Would he not allow himself to be subjugated by -the logic of the lot and hasten to work out his own emancipation with a -firm hand and in a confident spirit? - -Of course he would. And what then? - -“Then I shall have made a man of him,” was the clarion sound that rang -in her ears. That was to be her reward; the reflection that she had -accomplished this--the sense of her own influence upon the life of a -man. She felt at that moment that she wanted nothing more. Her woman’s -instinct to be a maker of men was satisfied. - -She remained in her seat for several minutes, while the crowd who had -been watching the set melted away, or hung about the chairs with their -comments. She listened while some asked what on earth had come over -Glenister, and others what the mischief had come over Wingfield. How -did it come that Wingfield had just managed to nip his set away from -Paisley, who was practically an outsider, and then had licked Glenister, -who had been runner-up for the cup last year, into blue fits? That was -what they all wanted badly to know; and that was just what the young -woman with the lace sunshade and the beautifully made dress could have -told them. - -But they did not address their questions to her; and when the talk about -the match that had just finished melted into talk about the two players -who had just taken possession of the court, she got upon her feet and -walked away--straight away from all the play and from the ground and -from the man. - -She drove to the farm, took off her beautiful dress and hung it up, and -laid away the lace sunshade, and, putting on her working overall, spent -the rest of the day in the dairy, among her lactometers and test tubes. - -Yes, she found that she had been quite right: the four new Jerseys were -more than justifying the records of the stud book. - -She reflected with satisfaction upon the circumstance that her father -had bought them on her advice. His judgment as to the look of the beasts -bore out all that her scientific research had made plain. - - - - -CHAPTER XIII - -His mother, though not an invalid, had need to be very careful as to -her health. Undoubtedly she had been better since she had come to the -Manor than she had been for years; but it so happened that she had not -felt well enough to go with her son Jack to the opening day of the Lawn -Tennis meeting. She easily submitted to his injunction to remain in her -chair on the terrace. The great magnolia that would make the whole side -of the house so glorious in another month, was not yet in bloom, but a -couple of old-fashioned climbing roses had worked their way round the -angle of the wall and laid out fantastic arms heavy with blooms over the -trellis, and Mrs. Wingfield loved roses of all sorts, and nightingales -and all the other old-fashioned things of the English garden. She was -quite content with her surroundings and her canopy and her pavement on -this J une day, and felt confident that her son’s assurance that she -would enjoy her day very much more as he arranged it for her, than if -she were to join the giddy throng in watching him knock the balls about, -was well founded. He had settled her in her chair and exclaimed: - -“Why was I such an idiot as to enter for the two events? The chances -are that I’ll scratch when I get on the ground and come straight back to -you.” - -“You must do nothing of the sort, my dear,” she said. “Play all your -games; it will make a good impression upon the people.” - -“My aim in life is to impress Framsby,” said he. “It strikes me that the -only impression my play will produce upon the privileged beholders will -be that whatever I may be in other respects I’m a thundering duffer at -tennis.” - -“You can’t tell what their form maybe. You may have to play a second -or third class man who is worse even than you,” said his mother, in the -tone of the invalid who has been told by her doctor to be cheerful. - -He laughed. “Bless you, my dear mother, for your kind intentions; but I -feel that you are a sad flatterer,” he said, going off, having lighted -his pipe. - -She watched him as the mother of an only son watches him; and when he -had disappeared and she heard him start the engine of his motor, she -laid down her magazine and sighed. She knew very well why she did so. -She knew how large her hopes had been that his entering into possession -of his property would mean a settling down for him. In the days of their -poverty--comparative poverty--the settling up every now and again -was what she had good reason to dread, and now that they were -wealthy--comparatively wealthy--the settling down occupied her thoughts -quite as painfully. - -She had seen, with a sinking of the heart, that he was beginning to -lose a sense of the novelty of his position. He had become weary of it -already. He had not fallen properly into the place which his grandfather -had occupied; his grandfather had thought it the highest place to -which a human being could aspire--the position of an English country -gentleman. Jack Wingfield was beginning to be bored by it already, she -could see. It was a life of pottering, she knew, and pottering, as a -profession, must either be begun very early or very late in life if one -is to attain to eminence in its practice. Jack had set about it too -late for a young man and too early for an old one. He had had nearly -six years of wandering--a little in Africa and a great deal in South -America. They had been busy years, and certainly they had been restless -years; but they had been years of life, not of vegetating. The -rolling stone does not become associated with even so humble a form of -vegetation as moss; but when it has done its rolling and finds itself in -a position for such an accumulation, it is rather a pitiable object. - -For more than a week Mrs. Wingfield had noted the approach of that cloud -of _ennui_ which she had always dreaded when she had thought of him as -entering upon a career of pottering. She had made several suggestions -to him with a view to its dispersal before it settled down upon him. -She thought of the hounds--might it not be possible for him to take -the hounds? Was the present master not tired of them yet? And then she -thought of the pheasants--the pheasants had never been properly -looked after, she knew, though she was quite unaware of how handy the -gamekeeper’s wife at the lodge had found their eggs when she had to make -an omelette in a hurry. - -Only when she had thought of these ways of anchoring a man to the -county, the bower anchor of the hounds and the kedge anchor of the -pheasant, did she think of the third way--The Girl. She had been -thinking a great deal about the girl during the previous week; and -already she was wondering if she might not pencil in some dates in -her diary for mothers with nice--really nice, girls--they were getting -scarcer and scarcer, she thought--to pay a visit to the Manor and so -give Providence a chance of doing something for her son and incidentally -for the girl: for would she not be a fortunate girl who should attract -the attention of so eligible a man? - -She had dreams of cosy house parties; and now, instead of making herself -familiar with the stores of wisdom in the magazines on the table beside -her, she was looking wistfully out from the terrace across the lawn to -the water garden with its old stonework and its shrubberies and its many -fascinating and secluded nooks. How happy she would be if she could but -see her boy emerge from one of those romantic places with a charming -roseate girl--if he would lead that girl to her side with a word or two -to ask her to welcome a daughter! - -And it was just when such a picture was presenting itself to her that -the postbag arrived and was brought to her by a footman. She unlocked -it, and found within half-a-dozen letters for herself, a large number of -the inevitable tradesmen’s circulars, offering coal at the lowest summer -prices and a fine choice of grates in which to consume it. She threw -them to one side; but she did not so treat the two long envelopes with -evidently bulky enclosures which remained among the contents of the -mail. One had its origin printed right across it--“The East Indian Steam -Ship Company”; the other was floridly embossed with a tropical scene, -and the strap that enclosed it was stamped “The Madagascar Direct -Route.” A sort of guide-book pamphlet entitled “Try Patagonia” had -also come, addressed to her son, and a small volume purporting to be on -“Tarpon, and How to Catch Them.” - -She looked at each of them a second time, and read all the reading there -was on the covers. Then she laid them on her table, and kept her hand on -the topmost as though she were anxious to hide it from every eye. - -It had come--she had seen it coming--she had seen the restlessness in -his eyes that told her that the call had come to him out of the distance -of dreams--those dreams which had always been his--dreams of a sea that -he had never sailed on--a land that his feet had never trodden. The -end of their life together at this house which she hoped would be their -home, had come before it had well begun. - -The poor woman lay back on her chair and closed her eyes, thinking her -thoughts--asking herself how it was that she, a woman who cared about -nothing in the world so much as a home, should be denied one, just when -she fancied that the gift for which she had always yearned had been -given to her. She knew all that a home meant--that it was not merely -a well-appointed dwelling, but a place the tenure of which should be -secure to her so long as she lived. Such had been denied to her all -her life; for her husband had been a wanderer with no certainty in his -wanderings except of their continuance; and now, when she fancied that -the desire of her life had been given to her, it was snatched away -before she had taken more than a sip of its sweetness. He was preparing -to go away from her once more. He could not help it; the travel lust had -taken possession of him, and once more she would be left alone. - -She sat there asking herself if she had failed in her duty toward her -son. Had she too easily yielded to him, letting him have his own way in -the matter of travel? What had she left undone that might have prepared -him for the “settling down” which was bound to come, she thought, when -he really had a home to return to? Even now it might not be too late to -do something that would make him not merely endure the home that he had -inherited, but enjoy it as well. - -She could think of nothing that had not been in her thoughts long ago; -and so the day wore on, but the pain which she had at her heart was not -outworn. - -Oh, who could leave this place that was meant for that repose which is -the sweetest part of life--this gracious land of woodland and park -and meadow and paddock--the songs of the blackbird and the thrush--the -glimpse of the quick swallows athwart the lawn--the melodious murmur of -innumerable bees--the scent of the roses: who would choose to leave such -a place for the dread uncertainties of other lands? She knew something -of Jack’s travels; they had not been under the control of a personal -conductor. He had slept with a rifle by his side and a revolver under -his pillow, and when he was not suffering from a plague of mosquitoes he -was having his toes cut open to expel the enterprising “jigger” that had -made a burrow for itself and its progeny beneath his flesh. - -That was a very fair synopsis of his travels, she thought--at any rate, -those were the points that appealed most powerfully to her imagination; -and yet she had imagination enough to perceive how, having once tasted -of the excitement of living that wild life, he should feel the tameness -of his new inheritance to be unendurable. - -She had her invalid’s lunch brought to her where she sat, and she was -still in her chair when she heard the sound of his motor returning. -He strolled round to her on the terrace at once, still wearing his -flannels. - -“Well, what sort of a day had you--rollicking, eh?” he cried. “I got -away in good time to have tea with you. They had no use for me any -more.” - -“Did you not play after all?” she asked; she felt sure that he had not -troubled himself to play, or if he had played it was only one set. She -knew his ways. - -“Oh, yes, I played,” he replied. - -“But you did nothing? How could you expect to do anything? You left here -not caring whether you played or not. I wish you wouldn’t take it all so -pleasantly. Why don’t you rail against your luck?” - -“I don’t see why the mischief I should; I’ve nothing to complain of in -the way of luck,” said he. - -“That’s the way with you, Jack--it has always been the way with you; you -will blame no one and nothing--only yourself.” - -“That shows how strongly developed is my sense of justice, dear mother. -I should make a first-class judge, if I hadn’t to debase myself by being -a lawyer to start with. But you see I am just enough not to blame my -luck.” - -“You had no luck, I suppose, all the same?” - -“Not a scrap. I did it all by sheer good play, and a straight upper -lip.” - -“You beat anybody?” - -“I beat Paisley first and Glenister second.” - -“Glenister? But he is one of the best men! You never beat Glenister.” - -“Six--two. Poor Glenny never got the better of his surprise when I stole -my first game from him. He tried to think that it was a dream; I don’t -believe that he has recovered yet. Nairne was my last man. He got a pain -in his in’ards when the game stood four--love; and by the advice of an -old prescription of the family doctor, he retired into the shade. Poor -chap! he played very well in the M.D.s five minutes later. A -splendid recovery! I know that there’s nothing like taking a thing in -time--especially the advice of the family medico.” - -“I can’t understand how you did so well, considering that you have had -no practice.” - -He was silent. He had picked up his post and was glancing at the covers. -She watched him nervously. He read the steamship company’s imprint on -each, and then smiled queerly. She fancied that he was smiling at the -thought of being once again away from such absurdities of civilization -as lawn tennis. But suddenly his smile ceased. He allowed his eyes to -stray in the direction that hers had taken a few hours earlier--over the -green of the lawns, and the ballooning foliage on the outskirts of the -park. He continued so for a long time, siffling an air between his lips, -and tapping the large envelopes fitfully on his palm. - -She watched him, waiting for what was to come--he was going to say -something to her, she felt--something in the way of breaking the news of -his departure to her. - -She watched him. - -Suddenly his soft whistling ceased. He drew a long breath, and smiled -still more queerly than before. - -At that instant he caught her eye. He gave a little start, saying with -something of surprise in his voice: - -“What’s the matter? Why are you looking at me in that way?” - -She continued gazing at him in silence. And then he saw that her eyes -had filled with tears even while they were on his face. - -“My dear girl, what’s the matter? Who has been saying what to you, and -why?” he asked. - -She pointed to the envelopes in his hand. He glanced down at them, -saying: - -“What--what’s the matter here?” - -She shook her head and then turned away, and he knew that her tears had -begun to fall. - -In a moment he perceived all. - -She heard him laugh, and raised her head, trying to disguise her tears. - -She saw the smile that was on his face as he tore in two each unopened -cover, and then tore the two in four, and the four into eight, tossing -the fragments over the balustrade of the terrace on to the roof of a -great pyramid bay below. The act was one of great untidiness, but -she easily forgave him, garden worshipper and all though she was. She -stretched a white hand across the table to him eagerly, and once again -her eyes were moist. - -“My dear boy! My dear boy! You mean to stay?” she whispered. - -“Yes, I mean to stay,” he replied. - - - - -CHAPTER XIV - -She waited for something to follow--something that would let her into -the secret of his flinging away the fragments of the circulars for which -he had written to the officials of the steamship companies. She would -have liked to know that it was on her account he had abandoned whatever -project of travel he had in his mind; but dear as the reflection that he -had done it for her sake would have been, it would have brought with it -a certain pang to feel that she was a brake upon his enterprises. - -She had a mother’s instinct that there was something to be told to -her--something that would suggest to her what were his reasons for -making up his mind to give his new life a fair trial. So she waited. -She could see that something had touched him and left its mark upon him, -whether for good or bad she could not tell; but surely, she thought, it -must be for good. She was not so simple as to fancy that his success in -the tennis tournament was the incident that had been potent enough to -cause him to change his plans. The very fact of his enlarging as he did -upon his own play and the play of the other men was enough to convince -her that the day’s tennis had nothing to do with the matter. So she -listened, and became animated in her commendation of his perseverance, -and waited. - -He drank tea with her, still talking of the tennis, with an occasional -discursion in respect of the people who were on the ground; and then he -lit a cigar, and fell into a train of thoughtfulness. She believed that -he would now tell her something of what she wanted to, know; but he was -still reticent, and before he had got halfway through his cigar he rose -from his chair saying: - -“I think that I shall take a stroll across the park to the farm. Funny, -isn’t it, that I only spent about half an hour there since I arrived?” - -“I am sure that they will appreciate a visit,” said his mother. “After -so long an interregnum they will welcome the appearance of a new ruler.” - -“Especially if he doesn’t rule,” said he, grimly. - -“I don’t know that,” she replied. “These people even in this democratic -age like a little ruling. Where is Mr. Dunning? Would it not be well to -take him with you, or get him to coach you on a few points?” - -“I think I prefer to drive my own coach a bit,” said he, and so he went -off. - -He returned about half an hour before it was time to dress for dinner, -and during that comparatively short space of time he gave her a _resume_ -of the more prominent points which he had observed in the mismanagement -of the farm. He could not have believed it possible, he declared, that -such gross negligence could exist on any estate. Verrall, the manager, -had not been on the premises, he said, and no one seemed to know exactly -where he was to be found; and that gave the owner a chance of poking -about the place himself, and thus seeing all that there was to be seen, -without the assistance of a guide to prevent him from straying into -corners which might be considered inconvenient to inspect. The owner -had, it appeared, done a good deal of straying on his own account. - -“The place is simply disgraceful,” he said. “Dunning hasn’t been near it -for more than a year. I got so much out of one of the hands. He has been -leaving everything in the hands of Verrall; and Verrall, it seems, is a -great authority in coursing. He has quite a large kennel of greyhounds, -which naturally he keeps and has been keeping at my expense. I will say -that they looked first-rate dogs. But it seemed as if the kennel was -kept up at the sacrifice of the dairy. The dairy is a disgrace. Unclean! -That gives no idea of what it was like--absolutely filthy--sickening. -The pump in the dairy is out of order. And when had it been in order? -I asked. Seven months ago, I found out by crossexamining some of the -slovenly hands who were loafing about. And the cattle! Dunning had told -me that there were some fine beasts on the home farm. He knew nothing -about it. There was not a single good point among the cows.” - -“And your grandfather was so proud of his herd!” said Mrs. Wingfield. - -“He wouldn’t see much to be proud of among their successors,” said Jack. -“I never felt so ashamed in all my life. Verrall drove up in a dogcart -when I was in the dairy, and began bawling out for some one to come to -the horse. He had brought a new greyhound with him, and he bawled out -for some one to come and look after the dog. I saw the origin of all -this bawling when he tried to get down. He wasn’t over successful. He -certainly wasn’t over sober. I had a very brief interview with him. He -was startled at first, and then he thought that the right way to get -round me was by becoming jocular. I fancy that, fuddled and all as -he was, he has come to the conclusion by this time that that was a -strategical mistake.” - -“You gave him notice to quit?” - -“Oh, no; I couldn’t very well go so far as that on the spot; but I am to -go over the books of the farm to-morrow--I had previously found out that -no books were kept--and I’m inclined to think that Mr. Verrall will give -me notice of his intention to take himself off before we get far in our -investigation of how the books came to be accidentally burnt or drowned -or eaten by the prize cattle--whatever story he may invent to account -for their disappearance.” - -So he went on as they sat in the hall looking out upon the western sun -that was sending his level beams over the great elms of the avenue. He -had become quite heated in his account of the mismanagement of the -farm. A few hours ago his mother would have refused to believe in the -possibility of his being sufficiently interested in such an episode in -the profession of a potterer as to become even warm over its narration. -How on earth had the sudden change come about? - -That was the question which she kept asking herself all the time her -maid was dressing her for dinner, and her son Jack was splashing in his -bath, trying to remove some of the memories of his visit to his farm. -But it was not until the following afternoon that she got from him -any suggestion that she could accept as a clue to the secret of the -situation. - -He had been at the home farm at six in the morning and had dismissed -Farmer Verrall before breakfast. Farmer Verrall had looked for his -coming about eleven or twelve, and having been up until pretty late the -night before, he had not quite succeeded in his endeavour to do himself -justice by “sleeping it off”--the phrase was Mrs. Verrall’s--so that Mr. -Wingfield had further opportunities for inspection before the man had -got on even the most rudimentary clothing. - -After the simultaneous discharge of his duty and his manager, Jack -Wingfield had eaten a good breakfast and gone off to the tennis ground, -where he succeeded in beating two more antagonists in the G.S.s, and had -then got knocked out in the first set he played with a partner--a very -wild young woman--in the M.D.s. After these excitements he returned to -have tea with his mother. - -It was after a long pause at the close of that meal that he remarked, so -casually as to awaken the suspicions of his mother in a moment: - -“Talking of the dairy--” he had been saying a word or two respecting the -dairy--“I wonder if you have ever heard of a man named Wadhurst--a great -authority on shorthorns--in fact, a great dairyman altogether.” - -“Of course I have heard of him, several times,” she replied. “Why, I -heard something of him only a few weeks ago--something in a newspaper. -Something he had done in America, I think--something brave--not -connected with a dairy. What nonsense! I remember now. It was another -man--was it his son who tried to save some people on a wreck and got -drowned himself?” - -“Not exactly his son. The man who did that was a scheming rascal who -had inveigled Mr. Wadhurst’s daughter into a marriage with him and got -arrested for a swindle on the steps of the church.” - -“Of course, that was it. Stupid of me to forget. But really, what -between these Frenchwomen poisoning their husbands and Americans getting -divorces, it is hard to remember the details of any one particular case. -But I only need to be reminded and the whole thing comes back to me.” - -“Miss Wadhurst of course returned to her father’s house. She is living -there at present. She never had slept a night out of it.” - -“The detectives were just in time! How lucky for her! But she is not -Miss Wadhurst: she must be Mrs. something or other. The ceremony was -gone through with, wasn’t it?” - -“I believe it was, but it was only natural--only right--just--that she -should revert to her maiden name. She had a right to her maiden name, -hadn’t she?” - -“I suppose so; but a marriage is a marriage, and a sacred thing, -whatever the Americans may say.” - -“A sacred swindle, this particular one was, my dear mother. Anyhow, the -young woman is here and I have met her, and I don’t think I ever met a -more clearheaded young woman. She practically runs that big dairy of her -father’s off her own bat--they send a thousand gallons of milk to London -every morning.” - -In a moment she perceived what was the origin of her son’s zeal in the -matter of dairy work; her heart sank. But she made no sign. She only -remarked: - -“A thousand gallons! Surely that is impossible, Jack! A thousand----” - -“It’s a fact. It’s by far the biggest dairy in the county. I am going up -the hill to see it one of these days; and meantime----” - -He paused, and she looked up from the old lace that she was mending--she -looked up interrogatively. - -“Meantime I want her to give me a hint or two, and I should like, if you -don’t mind, to ask her to visit you.” - -“Is that necessary, do you think? Wouldn’t she feel more at home if she -looked in at the farm? She could then see in a moment at what end to -begin to work as regards your improvements.” - -“I think that she would feel at home anywhere or in any society,” said -he. “You would agree with me if you saw her and had a chat. She is -really a very clever girl.” Jack Wingfield’s mother had a natural -antipathy to clever girls. She had met a few in the course of her life -with a reputation for cleverness, and for some reason or other the -impression that she had acquired of them and their ways was that a -clever girl was another name for a scheming girl, and that whether she -was called clever or scheming she was an unscrupulous girl. That was why -she shook her head, saying: - -“I’m not sure that clever girls are quite at home in my company, Jack. I -know that I am never at home in theirs.” - -“And if you’re not I’m sure that I’m not,” said he. “But you’ll not find -that Miss Priscilla Wadhurst is that sort of a clever girl.” - -Mrs. Wingfield felt that if the young woman had impressed upon her son -the fact that she was a clever girl, but not that sort of a clever girl, -she was the cleverest girl of all; but she herself, being possessed of -a certain share of this particular quality, knew perfectly well that -in the way of a man with a maid there is nothing so stimulating as -opposition, especially reasonable opposition, so she hastened to assure -him that of course she should be greatly pleased if Mrs.--or, as she -wished to be called, Miss Wadhurst--would call upon her; and the son, -without being a clever man, had still no difficulty in perceiving that -his mother was afraid to show any further opposition to his suggestion -lest mischief might come of it. But he only said, “That’s all right, -then. I think she may come, though I’m not quite sure.” - -“I don’t suppose that she would find a visit to an old woman who has -lived away from everything in the world for so long very attractive,” - she remarked. “Have you asked this young person to advise you as to the -dairy?” - -“Not I. But I’m sure she’ll do it. She wears no frills.” - -“You met her yesterday?” - -“Well, I was going to speak to Lady Cynthia Brooks about the Mixed -Doubles, when she rushed into the arms of Miss Wadhurst--there was -kissing and all that; it seems that they had been at school together, -and very chummy. Lady Gainsforth was tremendously taken with her.” - -He did not think that it was absolutely necessary for him to tell his -mother that he first made the acquaintance of Miss Wadhurst in the -room next to that in which they were sitting; and he saw no harm in -introducing the name of a countess and her daughter in the course of his -account of meeting Miss Wadhurst. - -“Cynthia Brooks was always a nice girl,” said Mrs. Wingfield. “I’m not -sure that going about from one tennis meeting to another is very good -for a girl; but if her mother doesn’t mind---- Wasn’t it at Biarritz -we met them? That was three years ago--just before you went to South -America.” - -“Yes; it was at Biarritz. We carried off the M.D.s; but we had a very -shady lot against us. We should have no chance playing together at such -a meeting as this.” - -Not another word passed between them on the subject of Miss Wadhurst, -and Mrs. Wingfield went to her bed in a condition of great uncertainty -on the subject of her son and the young woman who was to come to pay her -a visit. A farmer’s daughter, with views of dairy management; that was -rather a curious sort of young person for Jack to take up--if he had -taken her up. But Jack was, she knew, like many other young men of -whom she had been hearing recently--ready to do the unexpected. It was -shocking to hear of them marrying girls who danced and did things. She -had not quite succeeded in determining whether dancing or a dairy -was the worse. Hadn’t some well-known man written a poem about a -dairymaid?--or was it a musical comedy? But here was a dairymaid with a -romantic story swirling round her like one of those gauzy robes in which -some _premiere danseuse_ was accustomed to make her gyrations. Mrs. -Wingfield had a horror of being in anyway associated with a person -who had had a romance in his or her life. She connected romance with -unrespectability just as she did cleverness and scheming. - -She sighed at the thought of her son’s marrying a dairymaid; but if -he had set his heart on marrying her and failed to do so, would he not -forthwith start once again upon his wanderings? - -Which of the two prospects was to be preferred? That was the -question which she had to decide. It was a case of Scylla and -Charybdis--_Priscilla and Charybdis_, she thought; but she went asleep -before she had made up her mind on this question. After all, was there -any reason for her to keep awake thinking if it was possible that her -son, who had run the gauntlet of many young women in search of husbands, -and many young women--these were the more dangerous--having husbands of -their own already, during the previous four years, was now head and ears -in love with a red-faced, brownarmed, blowsy dairymaid? - -She hoped for the best. - - - - -CHAPTER XV - -As for her son, he did not go to bed very soon. He had a good deal -to think about apart from that grave step which he had taken in the -morning--the first important step he had ever taken before breakfast. As -a matter of fact, everything that he had to think about he thought about -quite apart from his discharging the drowsy and thirsty Mr. Verrall, -though to be sure there was a certain connection between the person whom -he had in his mind and his recently-acquired zeal to set his household -in order. - -He had come upon her on the tennis ground when he was about to enter the -court for the Mixed Doubles, and she had greeted him with smiles, but -with no cry of “You see what I made you do yesterday!” He had asked her -at what time she had left the ground the previous day, and she had said -“Just after your match.” - -“You saw it, then?” - -“Oh, yes, I saw it. You surprised poor Mr. Glenister.” - -“And anyone else?” - -“Probably yourself.” - -“Probably everyone on the ground except you.” - -“I am glad you except me.” - -“I could swear by the horns of the altar that you were not a bit -surprised.” - -“And you would not perjure yourself--I’m not sure if the horns of the -altar are binding as a form of oath; but anyhow, you would have been -right. I did not fancy for a moment that my judgment as a prophetess was -in jeopardy when Mr. Glenister took two or three games from you.” - -“Then you watched it all?” - -“Every stroke after the first couple of sets.” - -“That was very nice of you. I kicked out Farmer Verrall before breakfast -this morning.” - -“What, the manager of your farm?” - -“There was no help for it. I went over the place yesterday afternoon, -and I saw with half an eye that he had allowed the whole farm to go to -the dogs--to the greyhounds.” - -“The greyhounds? You are coming on, Mr. Wingfield. We shall have -you running a dairy farm yourself and taking away our bread and -butter--certainly the butter--if we don’t look out.” - -That was the sum of their conversation before the alert official -had separated them, dragging him off to play in the M.D.s and get -ignominiously beaten, for which he had apologized most humbly to his -partner, and she went away affirming that he was a very nice man, only -it was a pity he didn’t practise more. But she was careful not to let -a whisper of this reach the ears of their successful opponents; she was -not sure that they would not say that it was her silly play that had -lost the game. - -He had manoeuvred to get close to her at lunch, but in this he was -not very successful. She was with the Gainsforth set, and they hadn’t -invited him to their table; but afterwards he had managed to beat to -windward of the party and to sail down upon her at the right moment. -Unfortunately it was only for a moment that he was allowed to be beside -her. He had only time to say, “I want to have a long talk with you,” and -to hear her answer “You will find me a most appreciative listener, Mr. -Wingfield,” when Lady Cynthia carried her off in one direction and the -alert official carried him off in another to play a single. When he had -beaten his man and set out to look for her, he saw that she was between -Lady Gainsforth and another watching a paltry match in which Lady -Cynthia was doing some effective work with a partner who tried to poach -every ball that came to her. - -He had strolled away, and had passed a dim halfhour by the side of Rosa -Caffyn, who presented him to her mother, and her mother had asked him if -he did not think Miss Wadhurst was looking extremely well, considering -all that she had come through, poor thing! and she feared that a good -many people would say that it was in rather doubtful taste for her to -appear in a public place and not in mourning, though her husband had -been dead scarcely more than two months; and he had replied that she -had the doubtful taste to refrain from that form of etiquette known as -hypocrisy; and Rosa had clapped her hands, crying “Bravo! That’s what I -have said all along.” - -His thoughts went over all the ground that he traversed during the day. -It was when he was motoring to the Manor that he had made up his mind -to mention her name to his mother, and she had replied to him. And what -then? - -What then? - -That was the question which remained to be answered by himself to -himself. - -Why was he taking so much trouble to bring her and his mother -together? Was it in order to give his mother the privilege of another -acquaintance? or was he anxious to show Priscilla how charming a mother -was his? - -He had gone out upon the terrace with his cigar when his mother had -left him, and now he sat in the long chair among some very well-disposed -cushions. It was a night that lent itself with all the seductiveness -of an English June, not to thought, but to feeling. One could feel the -earth throbbing with the sensuousness of the season, although the -stars of that summer night were but feebly palpitating out of the faint -mystery of their grey-blue canopy. He had started thinking, but he was -soon compelled to relinquish it in favour of feeling. - -“If she were but sitting in that other chair--nay, why the other chair? -Why should there not be only one chair between us?” He fancied her -sitting where he sat, her head among the cushions--oh, that perfect -head, with its glory of hair, shining like some of the embroidery of -that satin cushion at his shoulder! He pulled up the pillow and put his -cheek close to it. Oh, if only she were there! He would sit on the rest -for her feet, and hold them in his hands and put his face down upon the -arch of their instep. He had seen her feet that day when she had been -watching the game, by the side of her friends, and he knew what they -would be like to kiss. And then he would kneel by the side of the chair -and put his head down to the cushion that was below hers, so that their -faces--their lips--should not be far apart--not further apart than a -finger’s breadth--sometimes not even so far. - -And they would be silent together, drinking deep of the delight of each -other’s silence. For what would they have to talk about on such a night -as this? - -And while he sat there, abandoning himself to the abandonment of -Nature--that glorious Nature whose passionate heart was beating in -everything under the stars of this June night--a nightingale began to -sing out of the darkness of the shrubbery. He listened to it, feeling -that that singing was the most complete expression of the passion of -June. - -But the incompleteness of his life--sitting there alone, full of that -longing which the nightingale could so interpret! Why was she not here -beside him--in his arms? - -A window was being opened in one of the rooms above where he sat. Why -was not that the window of her room? Why was it not opened to let her -speak out to him--to whisper to him that she was there--waiting for -him--waiting for him? He was a sane man under the influence of a -pure passion--a passion whose chief property it is to stimulate the -imagination even of the unimaginative; and every sound that he heard -breaking the silence of this exquisite summer night had this effect upon -him. He felt that he could not live without her. He had fallen into such -a condition of thinking about her as made it impossible for him to weigh -in connection with her such considerations as prudence, propriety and -Mrs. Grundy; all that he knew, or was capable of knowing, was that he -loved her, and that he wanted her to be with him always--he loved her -and nothing else in the world; he was incapable of loving anything else -in the world. She absorbed all the love of which he was capable. He felt -that he should be deserving of the fate of Ananias and Sapphira his wife -if he had kept back any of his possessions of love from her to bestow -upon some one else. He cared nothing for anything in the heaven above -or the earth beneath, or the waters that are under the earth, apart from -her; but with her he felt that he loved them all! - -This was the condition of the man who had never in his life been -involved in an affair in which love played any but the most subordinate -part. He had had his chances, as most men who have lived for nearly -thirty years with no recognized occupation usually have. If he had -caused the worldly mothers of eligible daughters (and too many of them) -who were aware of his prospects, to hold him in contempt, he had at the -same time caused the husbands of uncertain wives no uneasiness whatever -He had had his little episodes, of course--those patches of pattern -which go so far to relieve the fabric of a man’s life from monotony; -but, to continue the simile, this pattern had not been printed in fast -colours; it had not stood the test of time or cold water, but had faded -out of his life, leaving scarcely a trace behind. He had never believed -himself to be capable of rising to the dizzy heights of such a passion -as this in whose grasp he felt himself, high above the earth and all -earthly considerations. He was astonished at first when he found himself -walking about the turf of the tennis ground in order to catch a -glimpse of her--detesting the play, and so making it pretty hot for his -opponents because it stood between her and himself; cursing the nice -people who had found her so nice that they took care to keep her near -themselves; and at last leaving the ground in sheer despair of being -able to find her alone, so that he could sit beside her and watch her -face, or the exquisite lines of her figure down to her fairy feet which -he wanted to kiss. - -He had driven to his home at something in excess of the legal maximum, -hating her (as he thought--the most solid proof of his love for her) and -hating himself for being such a fool as he felt himself to be. - -The necessity for strategy in talking to his mother helped to bring him -within the range of ordinary well-ordered life once more, and he had -ridden his soul on the curb, so to speak, ever since; but now his mother -had gone to bed, and here he was stretched at full length on his chair, -having abandoned himself to his passion--thrown out every ounce of -ballast in order that he might get a little nearer to the stars that -were as soft as pearls above him. - -He had ceased to be astonished at himself. He had reached that rarer -atmosphere where the conditions of life are altogether different from -those that prevail on lower levels, and where extravagance of thought is -simply the result of breathing the air. His intoxication took the form -of feeling that he was on the brink of a great happiness--that he was a -king on the eve of a great victory--that he was so considerable a person -in the world that he could carry out with a high hand every purpose -in life. In his heart was all the swagger of those braggart warriors -strutting about in armour and feathers on the walls of Troy or beneath -them. - -And in this condition of intoxication and its consequent hallucination -he remained until the stars of the one hour of the summer night waxed -paler than pearls in the exquisite dawn of the summer day. - -The nightingale that had been singing in the early night had long -ago become hushed. From a distant meadow there came the sound of the -unmelodious corncrake. There was a little cheeping and rustling among -the ivy of the walls, and then came a blackbird’s syrupy contralto from -among the laurels of the shrubbery, and far away the delicious liquid -ripples of a lark--two larks--three--the pearly air was thrilling with -the melody of larks and with the flutings of thrushes, and the cooings -of the wood pigeons, long before the sultans of the farmyards sent forth -their challenges to be passed on and on like the ripple on a lake, until -the last could be but faintly heard coming from the height of the Downs. - -He sat there listening to everything, and scarcely conscious of the -melting of the night into the dawn. There had been no darkness at any -time of that June night, and the dawn was only like all the pearls of -the sky melting in the liquid air. - -At last he got up from his seat and walked to the balustrade of the -terrace, looking forth over the white mists that curled and rose from -the lawns and the meadows beneath. He felt that his new day had arisen -for him. He went upstairs to his room, and when he had got into bed, he -was asleep within five minutes. - -It so happened, however, that the room in which his mother slept was -just opposite to his on the same corridor, and even the slight sound -that he made closing his door was enough to awaken her. She could then -hear the sound of his swinging back the curtains which the careful -housemaids invariably drew across his windows when they were turning -down the counterpane; and then she knew that he must just have come -upstairs. Her room was quite light, so that she could see the hour shown -by the little bracket clock. It was five minutes past two. - -So he had passed the four hours that elapsed since they had parted, -sitting alone in the empty room! (She knew nothing of his having gone -out upon the terrace.) - -Her knowledge of this circumstance told her a great deal more of his -condition than she could have learned from his own lips had he felt -inclined to confess to her all that was in his heart. - -It was true, then--the inference that she had drawn from his guarded -words respecting the young woman was correct. It was on her account he -had made up his mind that there was no place like home. - -The mother was in great distress for some time. She shed some tears, but -not many, for she reflected that at least a year must elapse before this -young widow--for she was a widow, whatever sophists might say--could -make another matrimonial venture, and what may not happen within a year? - -This reflection comforted her, and so did the thought: - -“After all, I have not seen her yet.” - - - - -CHAPTER XVI - -He saw matters with rather more reasonable eyes when he awoke after six -hours of very refreshing sleep--more than his poor mother had during the -whole night. He saw that all that passionate longing for her which had -taken possession of him in the early night was of no effect. He could -not possibly have her with him inside twenty-four hours, as was his -desire. - -In the new light that came to him he saw a good many things. He saw -that there were such elements as delicacy and decency which were highly -respected by all respectable young women, and that in his case the -amalgamation of the two meant delay. Was she a girl, he asked himself, -who would be likely to fall in love with such a fellow as he? He could -not bring himself to answer this question without a certain sinking at -heart. All the conceit had been knocked out of him with the broadening -of the light of day. He no longer felt himself to be a conqueror. The -brazen bucklers of the Trojan heroes were not for him. He felt that he -was not brave enough even to be a suitor. He feared her eyes--they were -beautiful eyes, but they were capable of expressing a pretty fair amount -of derision when occasion arose, and he could not imagine them wearing -any other expression when he thought of his standing before her and -asking her if she would consent to love him. - -What chance would he or any other man have with that particular girl? -Even if she were well disposed in regard to him, what would that amount -to in the face of the experience which had been hers? Had she not had -enough experience of men, and of marrying, to last her for some time at -any rate, if not for the rest of her life? And was he, Jack Wingfield, -the sort of man who would tempt that girl into a second adventure? In -spite of his recent successes--at tennis and in his own Augean dairy--he -had not got out of his old habit of thinking slightingly of himself and -the possibility of his reaching to any high level of attainment. What he -had achieved the day before he had achieved through her. He placed it to -her credit without any reservation--he did not deduct even the customary -commission which should have accrued to him as an agent. - -And when she had shown herself to be strong enough to make him do all -that he had done, was she likely to be weak enough to listen to his -prayer? - -All this form of reflection was very disheartening to him. He was a -very different man indeed from the one who had taken part in those fancy -flights on the terrace before the dawn, when he had put his cheek down -to that cushion where he had pictured her head to be lying. - -“Lord, what a bounder!” was the thought that came to him from that -reflection now. - -In the course of his reflections he did not even get so far as his -mother had gone, when she had thought that, let the worst come to the -worst--the best to the best was how he would have put it--a full year -was bound to pass before he could have her with him. There was no need -for him to draw upon so distant a source of uneasiness when there were -so many others to supply him close at hand. - -His mother never came down to breakfast, but he invariably went to her -room to bid her good morning. He thought that now she looked at him -narrowly, and he had an intuition that by some means she had come to -know of his late hours on the terrace, so like a sensible man, who -confesses when he knows he has been found out, he said cheerily: - -“I had rather a bad night. I went out upon the terrace when you left me, -and, by George! it was dawn--almost daylight--before I got to bed.” - -“That was very foolish of you, Jack,” said she. “But I suppose you were -thinking about--about--something of importance.” - -“That was it,” he assented, with the glibness of the accomplished liar, -though he was not a liar but only a lover. “That was it: I was wondering -if I had not been a bit too hasty with Verrall. Perhaps I should give -him another chance. Well, well; a chap doesn’t like starting life at -home by kicking out a man who has been about the place for so long as -Verrall has been. Oh, yes; I had a lot to think over. Well, wish me -luck.” - -“Wish you luck, dear--how?” said the mother. - -“How? Don’t you know that I am down to play some giants to-day, and -won’t you wish your little Jack--Jack the giant killer--the best of -luck?” - -“With all my heart--with all my heart--the best of good luck,” said she, -and he kissed her, and went away whistling like a successful dissembler. - -And then there happened the best thing that could befall a man who is -inclined to be weak-kneed and who stands in great need of a stiffening. -Mr. Dunning, the agent whom he had taken over from the trustees when he -had entered into possession of the estate, had had things his own way -for something like eleven years; there had been no voice of authority -but his own on the estate, and the result of two or three interviews -which he had with Mr. Jack Wingfield had been of so pleasing a character -that he felt that his voice would continue to give the word of command -from the Dan of Dington at one end of the property to the Beersheba of -Little Gaddlingworth at the other. He had communicated his estimate of -young Wingfield to his enquiring wife by a shrewd shake of the head and -a smile. He thought precious little of this young Wingfield. - -He was therefore all the more surprised when he received a visit the -previous day from Farmer Verrall, whom he had installed at the home -farm, to acquaint him with the fact that young Mr. Wingfield had -practically kicked him out of the place. Mr. Dunning felt that it would -never do for him to stand such an insult from a fellow who was nothing -more than the owner of the property. He saw clearly that now was the -time for him to strike. If he were to submit to such high-handed action -without protest he should have no end of trouble in the future. The -owner might even go so far as to exercise some authority over his -estate. Yes, he would show this young man what was his place. - -He scarcely waited for young Wingfield to bid him good morning. - -“Good morning. What’s this I hear about Verrall?” he said, all in a -breath. - -“What’s what you hear about Verrall?” said young Wingfield, after a -pause. - -“This about his being turned out of his farm at a moment’s notice?” - -And then young Wingfield took the measure of his visitor, and saw with -great clearness what was the object of his visit. - -“Look here, Mr. Dunning,” he said, “if you know all about the matter, it -seems hardly necessary for you to bother yourself coming to ask me about -it?” - -“Mr. Wingfield, I’m not accustomed to be treated in this cavalier -fashion,” cried the agent. “I think an explanation is due to me.” - -“Of course an explanation is due to you, Mr. Dunning. I was about to -send you a message asking you when it would be convenient for you to -drop in on me.” - -“It would have been much better if you had sent for me in the first -instance.” Mr. Dunning’s tone was now one of forgiveness, tempered by -reproof. “So far as I can gather, you told Verrall to turn out of his -farm, neck and crop. That was a bit high-handed, and not just the thing -that one might expect, considering that you have scarcely found your -feet on the property, Mr. Wingfield. The tenants are not accustomed -to such high-handed treatment, and I must say that neither am I, Mr. -Wingfield.” - -“I place myself in your hands, Mr. Dunning,” said Jack. “You see, I’m -new to this sort of thing, and you are not. What am I to do in the -future?” - -And then Mr. Dunning felt that his little plan had succeeded. -Firmness--there was nothing like firmness with chaps like young -Wingfield. Give them to understand at the outset that you’ll stand no -dam nonsense. That was what he felt, and he spoke in the spirit of his -philosophy. - -“You don’t know the mischief you may do--the difficulties that you may -place in my way,” he said. “In future you must leave these things to me. -In case you see anything that you think needs explanation, just acquaint -me with what you think should be done, and I’ll consider it.” - -“That will be very kind of you, Mr. Dunning,” said young Wingfield. -“Well, I may as well begin now. What I think should be done is to get a -couple of first-class men from a first-class London accountant’s office -to come down here on Monday and go over all the books of the estate--all -the books, mind you; the farm books in particular. I suppose that -although you haven’t been near the farm for the past eighteen months -yourself, you know all about the expenditure, and will be able to say if -it was I who paid for the feed of those greyhounds of Verrall’s and what -has been done with the milk of that splendid herd of cows that I saw -at the farm. The game books and the timber books will be gone through -carefully by the accountants with me sitting at one side and you at the -other, Mr. Dunning. Now I have acquainted you with my intentions as you -told me I should, and I’ve no doubt that we’ll get on all right together -in the future.” - -“What do you mean, sir?” cried the agent. “Do you mean to suggest that -I--that I--I have fallen under your suspicion? Do you suspect that -I--I----” - -“Good Lord! Is it me--suspect--suspect--you? Mr. Dunning, you have risen -too early--you can’t be quite awake yet.” - -“I think that your remarks can bear but one construction, Mr. Wingfield. -They suggest that you have unworthy suspicions in regard to my -integrity.” - -“You never were further mistaken in your life, Mr. Dunning. All I -suspect is your capacity. One of the most important of the farms has -been vacant for over three years because you refused to allow a man who -understood his business a year’s grace to carry out a scheme which a -little consideration by a competent person would have shown to be a -first-rate one. That meant some thousands of pounds out of my pocket, -and you have shown your incapacity to judge character by allowing -Verrall to have a free hand with the home farm, though he wasn’t a -tenant but a paid manager. Wherever I go I see evidence of carelessness -and incapacity.” - -“I did not come here to be insulted, Mr. Wingfield.” - -“No, you came here to do the insulting, Mr. Dunning. You came here -thinking to browbeat me--assuming that I was a juggins--a juggins, Mr. -Dunning--in other words, a mug. I saw what you thought of me the day -you pretended to set before me the principles of the management of the -property. But all the same I took a note of those matters which you -waved your hands over, telling me that they were not in my line--that -I should not understand them. I daresay I led you on to think poorly of -me, Mr. Dunning, and to put your tongue in your cheek when I had gone -out of your office and you were alone with your clerk; but though I may -have been a juggins at heart I wasn’t one at head, you must know. Now -will you stay and have some breakfast?” - -“No, thank you, Mr. Wingfield. I must consider my position, after what -you have said to me; I feel that it is necessary in justice to myself to -consider my position. I should be very unwilling to resign the position -of trust in which I was placed on the death of your grandfather.” - -“I don’t doubt it, Mr. Dunning. Pray don’t let anything that I have said -lead you to believe that I fail to appreciate how highly you value your -position. I have expressed myself badly if I have said anything that -suggested that to you. I think that Bacon and Tiddy are good enough -accountants for my purpose; but I know that Farside, Kelly and Ransome -have a big name for estate work. What do you think?” - -“I shall have to consider my position, Mr. Wingfield. I shall have to do -so very seriously.” - -“I will give you till to-morrow morning to consider it. If I don’t hear -from you by the morning I will conclude that you have sent me in your -resignation, and act accordingly. Six months’ notice, I suppose? But of -course you will go into the books with the accountants.” - -“I shall have to consider that point seriously also. I wish a couple -of strangers luck if they try to make anything out of the books without -me.” - -“Oh, you will not desert me--I think I know better of you than to fancy -that, Mr. Dunning. You must know what impression would be produced if -you were to clear off at such a time.” - -“Sir, my position in the county--your grandfather--he was high sheriff -that year--he headed the subscription list for the presentation to my -father.” - -“That was before I was born. Somebody told me that your father’s name -was in the county family list. I daresay the Dunnings were a power in -the land when the Wingfields were making money in the West Indies. You -are still a power in the land, Mr. Dunning, and you’ll let me know by -the first post to-morrow without fail.” Mr. Dunning went forth into the -sunshine without a word. He had an impression of awaking from a singular -dream. He scarcely knew how he came to be outside the house which he -had entered so jauntily half an hour before. He now felt not jaunty, but -dazed--queer. He could not understand how he had left the house without -saying what he had meant to say. He had meant to be very plain with that -young Wingfield and to give him to understand once and for all what -were their relative positions, but he had had no notion that it would be -necessary for him to take the extreme step of threatening to resign. -He had really no wish to resign. His position as agent of the Wingfield -estates was worth something over a thousand a year to him, but what -was he not worth to the property? Of course, juggins though that young -Wingfield was, he had still sense enough to recognize the value of such -an agent, and to know that without such an agent, he and his property -would be in the cart. - -No, he never thought that he should have to play that trump card of -his--the threat of resigning; all that he meant to do was to bring the -young man to his senses and to let him know that when all was said and -done he was only the owner, and as such, he had no right to make such a -decisive move as the removal of Verrall behind his agent’s back. - -And yet now he was walking away from the Manor House feeling that he and -Farmer Verrall were practically in the same boat--that they had both -got a shove off from the solid shore by the rude boot of a youth who was -really little better than an interloper, and that they were now adrift -on a choppy sea. - -But how it had all come about he could not for the life of him -understand. He had not been in the house for more than ten minutes; and -surely he had brought the young man within measurable distance of -an apology to him for his high-handed conduct, and yet--what had he -said?--accountants from London--books of the estate--the farm--the -milk--the pheasants--the timber--the underwood--and with all this he, -Mr. Dunning, J.P., the agent of the estates, the man whose father had -received a presentation of plate--whose name was in the only authentic -list of County Families--was to make up his mind by the next morning -whether he would remain and give the accountants from London his help in -going through the books or clear off with Verrall! - -The whole business was extraordinary and not to be fully realized in the -course of a morning stroll. He had reached the end of the paddock before -he was able to summarize his feelings up to that moment. His summary -assumed the form of an exclamatory sentence: - -“Who the devil would have thought that the chap had it in him?” - -As for young Wingfield, he was nearly as much puzzled by the issue -of his interview with Mr. Dunning as that gentleman was himself. When -Dunning had left the house Jack hurried to the breakfast-room, whistling -an uncertain air. The butler blew out the spirit lamp that heated the -breakfast dishes, and laid the latter on the table, with the coffee. -But the moment he had left the room, Jack Wingfield put his hands in his -pockets and walked away from the breakfast table to one of the windows, -and, standing with his legs apart, stared out, allowing his omelette to -get chilled and the coffee milk to get a surface on it. Jack Wingfield -was also puzzled to account for all that had occurred. Dunning had -always occupied in his mind a place of the deepest respect; and his -attainments he had been accustomed to think of with something little -less than awe. And yet he had been able within twenty-four hours to -discover his gross incompetence and, moreover, to tell him of it, and -to send him away with no more ceremony than he had thought necessary to -employ in clearing out Farmer Verrall and his greyhounds! - -The whole thing was too wonderful to be grasped immediately by such an -intellect as his. It required a deal of thinking out; so he stood at the -window staring at the garden for several minutes. - -At last he too thought that he might make a brief summary of the -situation and its development up to that moment. He whirled round -and gazed at the breakfast things. Then he removed his hands from -his pockets, and doubling up his right struck the palm of his left -vigorously, saying: - -“By the Lord Harry! She has made a man of me!” - - - - -CHAPTER XVII - -When he told her that his mother would be greatly pleased if she would -pay her a visit, her face became roseate. She hesitated before answering -him. She had usually her wits about her, and rarely failed to see in a -moment the end of a matter of which the beginning was suggested to her; -but now everything before her was blurred. She could not utter even the -merest commonplace word in response. - -Three days before she had seen that sudden light come into his eyes when -she had been trying--and not without success--to make him think -better of himself than he had been disposed to think, and she had felt -startled. She had gone home with that look impressed upon her. What did -it mean? She knew very well what it meant That is to say, she knew very -well that it meant that he was in love with her--for the moment, yes, -for the moment; and that was by no means the same as knowing all that it -meant. For instance, she could not tell if it meant that he would be -in love with her the next day and the day after. She did not know if it -meant that he would ask her to marry him, in the face of the opposition -of his family--she assumed the opposition of his family, just as she -assumed also that it was unnecessary for her to take into consideration -the possibility of his being influenced by what the people of Framsby -would say. He would of course snap his fingers at Framsby, but his -family was a very different matter. She wondered if he would be strong -enough to ask her in the face of his family. She was not quite sure of -him in this respect. One sees the effect that her experience of men and -their professions of love had upon her. She had been made thoughtful, -guarded, determined to refrain from allowing a second man to make a fool -of her--determined to do her best to repress all her own feelings in the -matter before it would be too late to attempt to do so--before she had -seen what his falling in love with her would lead to. That was why she -had gone away so suddenly on the first day they had met on the tennis -ground, and that was why she had taken the trouble to keep beside her -friends on the other days: she wished to give herself every chance--to -keep herself perfectly free in regard to him, so that, should nothing -come of the little flame which she saw flicker up behind the look that -he had given her, she would not have a lasting disappointment. - -At first she patted herself on the back, so to speak, for her -circumspection. She was behaving with wisdom and discretion, and with -a due sense of self-respect. But on the second day, when she had had no -more than half-a-dozen words with him, she returned to her home -with her heart full of him, and feeling the meanness of her -circumspection--hating her caution and abhorring her discretion. When -she was combing out her hair that night, she caught sight of herself, as -she had done before upon one occasion that has been noticed, in the tall -glass, but this time she seemed to have a glimpse of a strange girl in -whom she was greatly interested. She looked at herself curiously through -that fine network of hair that flowed around her, covering the white -draping of her white shoulders with a miraculous lacework of silk. -And then, in the impulse of a thought that suggested an instinct, she -unfastened the button of her drapery and allowed it to fall down about -her feet so that she stood there a warm white figure of a bather ready -for the plunge into the water, the foam of which was coiled about her -ankles. - -She looked at her reflection shyly as though she had surprised a strange -girl. But the strange shyness gave way to a strange interest in that -figure before her. She seemed to have acquired an interest in her body -from her head to her feet such as she had never known before, and she -found herself actually posing before the glass. Only for a minute, -however; with a little laugh that had something of maidenly merriment -in it and the rest of maidenly passion, she flung her hair away from her -figure and rushed to her bed. - -She did not go to sleep for a long time. The window of her room was open -and she could hear faintly the notes of the nightingale that was singing -in a plantation beyond the orchard. - -And somehow the song of the nightingale also seemed quite new to her. -She could not understand how it was that she had ever thought of it as -sad. - -She turned rosy when he asked her if she would pay his mother a visit, -and she did not answer him at once. - -“Did you tell your mother who I am--what I am?” she enquired, without -looking at him. - -“She knows all about you,” he replied. - -“And are you sure that she wishes to see me?” - -He did not answer at once. At last he said, - -“I don’t think that she wants particularly to see you. She doesn’t care -a great deal for seeing strangers. But I wish her to see you, and I wish -you to see her.” - -“In the ordinary course of life I should not pay your mother a visit,” - she said. “I know my place.” - -He laughed at the humour of her demureness, and she laughed because he -was laughing; but only for a second. - -“There’s nothing to laugh at,” she said. “I made a plain statement. In -the ordinary course of life social visits are not exchanged between the -ladies of the Manor and the girls of the farm; but in this case, and if -you will save me the trouble of explaining how it is that I go... and -yet I don’t know that you can explain it or that I can explain it... oh, -you had better not try to explain anything.” - -“Is there anything to explain?” he asked. - -“There is a great deal to explain, but nothing that can be explained,” - she replied. “I will be pleased to pay Mrs. Wingfield a visit. That’s -all that need be said on the matter. I am sure that she will be very -nice to me, and I know that I will be as nice to her as I can be to any -one. Haven’t I always been nice to you?” - -“Nice--nice?” he repeated. “That’s hardly the word. You have been nicer -to me than any one I ever met What have you been to me? There’s a word -that just describes it, if I could only find it. Guardian--no--no--some -other word?” - -“Pupil-teacher?” she suggested with some more demure humour. - -He paid no attention to her. He was not in the humour for humour at all. - -“I know the word, if I could only find it,” he said, musingly. “By -George! I have it--good angel--that’s the word. You have been my good -angel. You have indeed.” - -“That was a word worth waiting for,” she said gravely. “I don’t think -that there is any word that I should like better to hear any man apply -to me than that word--good angel. It simply means, of course, good -influence; and that is woman’s mission in the world of men; it is not -so much to do things herself as to influence men in the doing of things. -And when you come to think of it, woman has played a rather important -part in the history of the world by adopting this line. She hasn’t -actually done much herself, but she has been a tremendous power for good -or evil in her influence upon man. That is the sort of woman I should -like to be--an influence for good.” - -“A good angel--you have been my good angel,” he said in a low voice. -“You have plucked me by the hair of my head out of--out of--of--well, -out of myself; and--if you knew what I think of you--if you knew what I -hope--what my heart is set on--what----” - -“What your heart is set on just now is that I should visit your mother,” - she said quickly. She had no notion of leading him to fancy that she had -spoken to him of what was in her heart in order to induce him to speak -to her of what he fancied was in his heart. If he had confessed to her -there and then that his heart was set on marrying her she would have -refused to listen to him further, and all might be over between them. -But she had no idea of allowing this to come about. She cared far too -much for him for this. She had read the instructive Bible story--the -finest story that was ever written in the world--of a man being handed -over by God for Satan to try to make what he pleased of him. She thought -that God might be very much better employed in handing over a man to a -woman to try what she could make of him. She wondered which of the witty -Frenchmen would have replied that God, being merciful, would only make -the transfer to Satan. Anyhow, leaving theology aside for the moment, -the longing in her heart was that she might be given an opportunity of -standing by this man while he worked out his own salvation, and she knew -that the salvation of a man is the recognition by himself of his own -manhood. - -That was why she stopped him so quickly when he was going to say -something that would have spoilt his chance--and hers. - -“Your heart is set on my visit to your mother--at least I hope so, for -mine is,” she cried quickly, with a nod to him. “Now tell me how and -when I am to come.” For a moment he felt angry that she had checked his -all too rapid flow of words; he was not quite sure that the trend of -their conversation, and that accidental introduction of a word or two -that gives a man his opportunity, if only he is on the look out for it, -would ever be so favourable to him again. But he quickly perceived that -he had been too impetuous, and that if he had been allowed to go on he -would have ruined every chance that he had. - -“May I say Saturday?” he asked. “This business”--they were close to -the tennis courts, and had just arisen from lunch--“will be over by -Saturday.” - -“And you’ll have carried home the cup--don’t forget that,” she said. -“Yes, Saturday would suit me very well, and I hope it will suit your -mother.” - -“You may be sure that it will,” he said. “I have a very good chance -of the cup, haven’t I? There are only two lives between me and it. -If Donovan is killed by a thunderbolt to-night and if a brigand -stabs Jeffares with a poisoned stiletto in the course of the evening, -to-morrow I’ll carry off the cup. It will be plain sailing after that.” - -“No, you must win it,” she said. - -“Wish me good luck, and--I suppose you don’t happen to have about -you that ring which you habitually wear--the one with the monogram of -Lucrezia Borgia done on it in fine rubies, and the secret spring that -releases the hollow needle-point with the deadly fluid? No? Ah, just my -luck! you could put it on and then offer your hand to Donovan.” - -“I have left it at the chemists to be renewed,” she said, turning -halfway round in speaking, for they were in the act of separating. -“Yes, I have used up a lot of the fluid of late; I really must be -more economical. If I’m not I’ll not have enough money left to get it -recharged for Miss Metcalfe, who lost you the M.D.s.” And so they parted -with smiles and fun. - -And it so happened that he carried off the silver cup, for he beat Mr. -Donovan the next day, and Mr. Jeffares, the holder, found that he had -strained a tendon on the Saturday morning, and so declined to contest it -and also Mr. Wingfield’s offer to play for it when the tendon should -be in working order. (There were some people who said that it was very -sporting of Mr. Wingfield to make such an offer, and others that it was -very sporting of Mr. Jeffares to decline entertaining it. But in the -inner circle there were whispers that Mr. Jeffares’ tendon was a most -accommodating one, for it had been known to strain itself upon two -previous occasions when he had to meet an opponent who was likely to -give him some trouble.) - -She did not allow him to drive her up to the Manor House on -Saturday--indeed, he did not make the suggestion that she should do -so. She walked up to that fine old Georgian porch at the right visiting -hour, and she had already been talking to Mrs. Wingfield for some time -before Jack put in an appearance. - -Again she was dressed in white, but her garments were not those of the -tennis meeting. They were simpler and consequently more expensive, for -there is nothing more expensive than simplicity in a woman’s toilette if -it is to be the best; and second-class simplicity is in worse taste than -abject display. Mrs. Wingfield knew all that was to be known about -lace of all lands and of all periods, and she saw in a moment that the -Mechlin which made a sort of pelerine for her dress was a specimen. But -she felt that it was not a bit to be worn by a farmer’s daughter at any -time--that was her first impression. A little later, when she found how -graceful and natural and well-mannered was this particular daughter of -the farm, she came to the conclusion (reluctantly, it must be confessed) -that that piece of Mechlin not merely suited her extremely well, but -that it was exactly the right thing for her to wear. - -She was greatly impressed by Priscilla’s beauty; but more by her way of -speaking, and most of all by her manners. Manners with Mrs. Wingfield -meant an absence of mannerisms, just as distinction meant nothing that -could be seen distinctly, and good taste something that was only -known when a breach of it took place. Mrs. Wingfield did not find her -deviating from the straight paths of good taste when she referred to her -position in relation to the best set of Framsby. She did not boast of -not being “received” by these ladies; nor did she sneer at their want of -appreciation of her merits. She did not refer to Lady Gainsforth as “the -dear Countess” or to Lady Cynthia by her Christian name, to impress upon -Mrs. Wingfield the intimacy existing between her and Lady Gainsforth’s -daughter. Indeed it was Mrs. Wingfield who introduced these noble names, -and Priscilla knew that Mrs. Wingfield’s son must have mentioned them -in connection with her own; so she merely said that the skating at -Ullerfield Court, the Ullerfields’ place in Norfolk, had been very good -indeed when she had stayed there with Lady Cynthia and Katie Ullerfield. - -And then--also in response to Mrs. Wingfield’s enquiry--she went on to -speak of her dairy experience. She thought that on the whole there could -be no more interesting work than dairy work. They were in the middle of -the dairy when Jack put in an appearance. - -When they had had tea he took her round the greenhouses. She could talk -freely with him on this tour; she had no sense of being restrained by -the looming of a grave question ahead. She knew that although two days -ago he had been at the point of blurting out something that it would -have been impossible for her to reply to satisfactorily then, he would -never regard such an incident as the flowering of a yucca in a hothouse -as a legitimate excuse for asking her the question which she had -restrained. - -She had no fault to find with him upon this occasion. He talked about -the patience of his mother alternately with the bother of orchids and -the merits of the Phoenix Barbonica for indoors; and brought her safely -back to the drawing-room, where she put a crown upon the good impression -she had already produced upon Mrs. Wingfield by showing more than a mere -working knowledge of Wedgwood. It so happened that Priscilla had worked -up Wedgwood every year to beguile the tedium of her visits to her aunt -Emily. The town where her aunt lived contained a museum of the products -of the English Etruria, and she had a visiting acquaintance with every -piece in the collection. Thus was the good impression which she produced -upon Mrs. Wingfield sealed with a Wedgwood medallion. A girl who could -wear without reproach a Mechlin lace collar of the best period and who -could detect Hackwood’s handiwork on a tiny vase which was attributed to -somebody else, could not be far wrong. - -When she had gone away and his mother had come out from the drawing-room -and was about to take a turn round the garden, he lit a cigar and gave -her his arm. He was talking rapidly, not of Miss Wadhurst, but of -his approaching struggle with Mr. Dunning. His mother knew, from the -persistency with which he rushed away from every chance she offered him -of touching upon Miss Wadhurst, that he was anxious to an extraordinary -degree to get her own opinion of their visitor. - -It was not until he had led her to her favourite seat in the curve of an -Italian balustrade overlooking the stonework of a pond with a fountain -in the centre that she said, “I don’t wonder that you are in love with -her, Jack.” - -“Great Gloriana! I--in love--with--whom?” he cried. “She is, I think, -the nicest girl I ever met,” continued his mother. “She has elegance, -and that is the rarest quality among the girls of nowadays--the elegance -of a picture by Sir Joshua; and her dress--there was not a single -jarring note. I thought at first that that piece of Mechlin round her -neck was rather overdone--it is worth sixty or seventy pounds--ah, -now you perceive how outrageous is my taste--appraising the value of a -visitor’s dress. Dreadful!” - -“Monstrous! But you think----” - -“I think that she is the only girl who could carry off such a thing -without self-consciousness. She is a girl of the greatest taste.” - -He shook his head. - -“That’s bad news,” he said. - -“Bad news?” - -“Bad. If she has any taste what chance should I have?” His mother -smiled. She knew girls a good deal better than did her son. She had come -to think of her son as the one who chooses and the girl as the one who -is chosen. She never thought of the girl as having any choice in the -matter. It was her _metier_ to be chosen, and all the others stood by -envying her. - -It was no wonder that she smiled at his suggestion. - -“I only wish--but it is too late now. After all, it is only people who -have not seen her--who do not know her--that will sneer at her being -only a farmer’s daughter,” she said. - -“Only fools,” he cried. “Only--such fools--Framsby fools! Gloriana! What -better can any one be than a farmer? I’m a farmer. Not that that settles -the question once and for all,” he added, with a laugh. “Lord, how -rotten is all this rot that one hears about family and trade and -that! It’s a dreadful thing for a chap to have a shop, and, of course, -society, as it’s called, shuns him; but if he multiplies his offence -by a hundred he’s all right, and no matter what a bounder he may be, -society opens its arms to him, and the bounder becomes a baronet. If a -chap like me sets up a dairy and sells the milk, people say that it’s -sporting; but if a real farmer--the right sort of man--runs a dairy of -the highest order, he is called a dairyman, and is put on a level with -gardeners and grooms. So far as family is concerned, the Wadhursts are -as far above us and any of the rotters that control society at Framsby -as our family is above the Gibman lot who are hand in glove with -Royalty. The Wadhursts were in this neighbourhood at the time of the -Heptarchy.” - -“I think she is the nicest girl I ever met,” said his mother, when the -smoke had time to clear away. “Poor girl! How could she have made such a -fool of herself?” - -“What do you mean? Who made a fool of herself?” - -“You recalled the story--it was in all the papers. But I called her Miss -Wadhurst.” - -“There’s a difference between a girl making a fool of herself and being -made a victim of, isn’t there?” - -“But the notoriety--it is not her fault, I know, but still----” - -“Still what?” - -“I don’t know what. I don’t know anything. I only feel.” He looked at -her for some time--at first with a frown creeping over his face, but it -did not develop into a frown; on the contrary, it vanished in a smile. -He took her hand and put his arm about her. - -“Thank God that you can feel, mother, for it’s more than most women can -do nowadays,” said he. “And what you should feel is that if that girl -was a fool once she may be a fool again and marry me; and that if I have -been a fool always I may be wise once and marry her, if I can. I tell -you that she--she--by God! she has made a man of me, and that’s a big -enough achievement for any girl. Thank God, my dear mother, that I’ve -set my heart on a girl that can do this off her own bat.” - -“I will, my son,” said she, quietly; and they walked back to the house -without a word. - - - - -CHAPTER XVIII - -She never once looked back in any sense, when she had passed out of -the gates of the Manor. She had known that it was laid upon her to go -through this ordeal of standing before the mother whom he loved, to be -approved by her. She had faced the ordeal without shrinking, because she -loved him. She was as sure of him and his love for her as she had been -certain of the deceit of the wretch with whom she had gone through -the empty ceremony of marriage in order that her mother might die -happy--though the result was that she died of her misery. - -She knew that if Mrs. Wingfield were pleased with her, Jack would be -delighted and ask her to marry him the next time they met, if he did -not force a meeting with her for the purpose; but if his mother did not -approve of her, and called her heartless because her dress was white -instead of black, and flippant because she had appeared several days at -a sporting meeting within a couple of months of her husband’s death, -he would be greatly downcast, but he would ask her to marry him all the -same. - -But she had set forth to face the ordeal by visit as firmly as she would -have gone to meet the ordeal by fire or the ordeal by water, had she -lived in the days of such tests of faith. She knew that, whatever should -happen her faith in him would not be shaken and his faith in her would -remain unmoved. But she had made up her mind to find favour in the sight -of his mother, and she now felt that she had succeeded in doing so. -If she had failed, she would have been miserable, but she would have -promised to marry him all the same. - -The sense of exultation which was hers was due to her knowledge of the -fact that she had found favour in the eyes of the mother of the man -whom she loved, not to her feeling that she would, as the wife of Jack -Wingfield, occupy a splendid position in the county--such a position -as her poor mother had never dreamt of her filling. Beyond a doubt, she -found it quite delightful to think of owning that beautiful park through -which she had been allowed as a great privilege to stray while the house -was empty. Every part of the grounds was a delight to her--the deep -glen with its well-wooded sides sloping down to the little stream that -twinkled among its ferns and mosses and primroses--the irregular meadow -where stood the tawny haystacks like islands in the midst of a sea of -brilliant green--the spacious avenues of elm and oak that made her feel -when walking in their shadow, that she was going through the nave of -a cathedral--she loved everything about the place, and it would be the -greatest joy to her to live all her life there--with love; without love -she would as soon spend the rest of her life in one of the cottages on -her father’s farm. - -She felt exultant only in the thought that he was to be her companion -when she went to that place. She had all her life been looking forward -to a life of love; and it had been puzzling to her when she found that -year after year went by without bringing her any closer to love. She was -not conscious of being fastidious in her association with men; but the -fact remained the same: she never had the smallest feeling of love for -any of the men who had told her that they loved her--and she never had a -lack of such men about her. - -For the months of her engagement to that man, Marcus Blaydon, her -thought was that this was the punishment that was laid upon her for -the hardness of her heart--this prospect of living with a man who could -never be anything to her but an object of dislike. He never awoke in her -a slumbering passion--not even the passion of hate. She merely disliked -him as she disliked a foggy day; and yet she was condemned to spend the -remainder of her life with him with love shut out. Was that to be her -punishment for having rejected the many offers of love which had been -laid at her feet by men whom she liked well but could not love? - -And then with the suddenness with which a great blessing or a great -calamity is sent by Heaven (according to the Teachers) there had been -sent to her the two best things in the world--Freedom and Love. She knew -that if this man had been one of her father’s shepherds and had asked -her to love him she would have given herself to him. Her sense of being -on the way to fill a splendid position socially was overwhelmed by -the feeling that she was beloved by a man whom she loved as she never -thought it would be given to her to love any man. That was her dominant -thought--nay, her only thought--while she walked through the lanes to -her home. - -And it never occurred to her that she was reckoning among her -possessions a great gift which had not yet been offered to her. It -never occurred to her that she might be mistaken in taking his love for -granted. Even if weeks and months were to pass without his coming to -her, she would still not entertain so unworthy a thought as that he -was not coming to her. But she was not subjected to the ordeal of his -absence. He came to her on Monday morning, the first thing. It was -surely ridiculous for him to set out on this mission before the workers -in the fields had left their beds; but so he did. He went forth and -wandered for miles across the Downs. He went within sight of the sea, -by a curious impulse, and he sat on the turf in the early sunlight, -listening to the great bass of the breaking waves beneath him and to the -exquisite fluttering flutings, of a lark in the sky above him. Then he -turned and found the road that led down to the snuggest of villages--he -owned every house, though he did not know it--and up again to a region -of ploughed fields--enormous spaces of purple-brown surrounded by great -irregular hedges of yellow gorse. - -It might have been fancied that, with his heart so full of the great -intention, he would be walking like one in a dream, taking no thought -of the things about him; but so far from his being like this, he looked -upon everything that he came across with an affection such as he had -never known before. He felt that these things of Nature were closer to -him than they had ever been--in fact, for some of them he felt as would -an explorer in a strange land who suddenly comes upon a number of people -and recognizes in each a relation of his own. He had never been in such -close touch with Nature before, and every step that he took was one of -rejoicing. - -He dallied so much in strange ways that it was actually as far on in the -day as seven o’clock before he found himself in that narrow steep -lane close to a narrower and steeper one, which led up to Athalsdean -Farm--this was where his motor had broken down, and she had come upon -him searching (by the aid of his chauffeur’s eyes) for the cause of the -mischief. He had not yet reached the exact spot, when he saw her turning -from the farm lane to the one through which he was walking; but she was -not coming toward him; her turn took her in the opposite direction. - -He shouted to her, and she glanced round, and then stood still. She was -at that instant under an ash that was not yet fully clothed with leaves; -the sunlight shone upon her bare head. Bare? Well, scarcely bare with -that splendour of wreathed tresses crowning her; but she wore no hat, -and carried no sunshade. Her dress was a print, made very short, so that -her serviceable shoes and her ankles were fully exposed. Such leaves as -were upon the boughs cast dark shadows upon her dress, but her head was -altogether in the sunshine. - -She waited for him, rosy and eager--she could not control her -eagerness--she could not trust herself to speak a word of greeting in -reply to his. - -“I have been in search of you,” he said. - -“For long?” - -“For long? All my life, Priscilla. I want you, Priscilla--I never wanted -anything so much. I need you. I cannot do without you.” - -He had not released the hand that she gave him, but he did not hold it -so tightly but that she could have taken it from him if she had been so -minded; but it so happened that she was not so minded. She allowed him -to keep it, and he drew her to him. He put his other hand on her waist, -and then slipped it up to the back of her head. That was how he kissed -her, with his hand at the back of her head; and that was how she -allowed him to kiss her at 7.5 a.m. on that fresh June morning, when the -hedgerows were giving in scent to the sun the dews that had lain upon -them, keeping them fresh through the night. - -“You do not say a word,” he complained, when he had kissed her and -kissed her--on the cheeks, the chin, the eyes, and the mouth--when he -had held her so close to him that she felt deliciously dishevelled, and -for some seconds found it difficult to breathe. “Not a word!” - -She gasped, and kept him away with one hand. He was holding the other so -tightly by now that she had no chance of recovering it. - -She laughed. - -“A word? What word?” she gasped. - -“Any word--the word that is in your heart.” There was no use talking -loud. His arm was about her again. - -“There is no word in my heart--you have squeezed it out,” she managed to -say. - -“You would not let me lay a finger on you if you did not love me--I know -that,” said he. - -“You know that, and yet you ask me to say something to you. Talking is a -sinful waste of time.” - -“So it is, my darling girl. You have said it: out of the fulness of the -heart the mouth----” - -“Kisses--that is what it does; it doesn’t speak--it cannot.” - -“Since when has that knowledge come to you, Priscilla.” - -“I confess that it is newly acquired. You make an excellent coach for a -backward girl, my master.” - -“You are not backward; it is only that your education has been -neglected.” - -“And you look on yourself as a successful crammer? Haven’t you seen the -advertisements, ‘particular attention paid to neglected children’? You -are paying me particular attention. Don’t you think that my education is -pretty nearly complete, Jack?” - -“Oh, you have a lot to learn yet; but you are coming on. You have -learned that my name is Jack--that’s a distinct advance. Oh, my dear -girl, the delight of teaching you all--all--all!” - -“I had no idea that you were so ardent an educationist. Ah, I knew you -would come to me! But what I have been asking myself for several days -is, Were there no girls in your own station in life----” - -She could not finish her question for laughter; the phrase which her -father was very fond of using sounded very funny coming from her lips, -which were--as she had found out--exactly on a level with his own. - -“Station of life? Station of life? Your lips are the waiting room--a -first-class waiting room in the station of life,” said he. - -That was how he received her suggestion that he was ready to make what -his relations would undoubtedly call a _mesalliance_ in asking her to -be his wife; though, as a matter of fact, he had not yet asked her to -be his wife. Perhaps she should have regarded his movements during the -previous five minutes merely in the light of a friendly attention to -enable him to see if she was amicably disposed toward him. - -“Let that be the last word of frivolity between us,” she said. “I want -to be serious. Be sure, my dear Jack, that this is the most serious -moment that has come into our lives.” - -“I know it--I know it, my beloved,” said he. “I know that meeting you -was the most important thing in my life. And I know that marrying you -will be the wisest. You are the first person in the world who gave me -credit for having any backbone. You are the first person in the world to -give me a sort of respect for myself. My mother is the dearest soul on -earth; but she has never thought it necessary to help me on to anything. -She was quite content that I should live and inherit the property, and -follow her to the grave and then go there myself, doing as little as -possible in the interim. It’s wonderful how little a country gentleman -can do if he only puts his heart into the business of idling. I think it -quite likely that I might have made a record in this way. But you came -into my life, and--and you have become my life. That’s why I want you to -stay with me--to stand by me, and you’ve promised to do it?” - -“Have I?” she said. “Yes, I suppose I have; at any rate, whether I have -or not you may be sure that I’ll do it. And don’t you doubt, Jack, that -we’ll do something in the world before we are parted. A man without a -woman beside him represents an imperfect scheme of life. Life--that -does not mean a man, nor does it mean a woman; it means the man and the -woman. So it was in the beginning, so it is to-day. Life--the man and -the woman, each living for the other. That’s life, isn’t it?” - -“It is; and we’ll do some living, you and I, Priscilla, if others have -failed.” - -“The failures are those who forget--the woman who forgets that she is a -woman and seeks to do the man’s work--the man who forgets that he is a -man and treats the woman as if she were the same as himself. Oh, here -we are talking of the philosophy of life when we should be living. But -that’s the way of philosophy: it keeps a man learning the best way to -live, and by the time he has learnt it it is time for him to die.” - -“Hang up philosophy and give us life, say I. Dear girl, you have made me -happy and--hungry. I left my bed at four this morning, and now it’s past -seven.” - -“You will come with me and have breakfast. I wonder if any man up to -this day ever asked a girl to marry him before breakfast.” - -“I wonder. But a chap feels so much fresher in the early morning, I -think it should be tried more frequently.” - -“It was a bold experiment, Jack. But it might only succeed when carried -out in connection with the dairy industry.” - -“That is how you come to be up so early. Shall I have a chance of seeing -your dad if I go with you? I suppose a dad has always to be reckoned -with.” - -“No one has to be reckoned with except myself in this matter. I am -myself, and I know myself, and will obey myself and none other this -time--this time.” - -She spoke with some vehemence, and her last sentence was uttered with a -touch of bitterness. He knew what she meant. Providence had come to her -rescue once, but a second interposition on her behalf was too much to -expect. He could appreciate her feeling. - -“You will not have to meet my father until you please,” she said. “Just -now he is miles away--at Galsworthy. We shall be alone.” - -“I’ll not shudder at the prospect,” said he. “We can’t have everything -in this world, can we?” - -They went together up the lane to the farm with as much decorum as was -consistent with the possibility of being discovered by some watcher in -the fields, and they had breakfast face to face at an old Tudor table -in one of the panelled rooms of the farmhouse, and beneath the old -oak beams--a lovely room that had undergone no change in even the most -trifling detail for three hundred years. The bowls of wallflowers on the -table and on the lattice shelf were of blue delft, and the plate-rack on -the wall held some dishes of the same colour. - -“You suppose all this is old?” he said, looking around. - -“Oh, no; but it wasn’t bought in my lifetime,” she replied. “I can show -you in an account book exactly what was paid for everything. The date of -the last entry in the book is the ‘Eve of the Feast of the Purification, -1604.’” - -“Three hundred years ago. But that’s nothing in the history of your -family. Have you a ledger that goes back to the Heptarchy?” - -“I’m afraid that that one is mislaid. But the eggs are fresh; if we -don’t boil them now they will be three hours old at nine.” - -“You might have some relic of the Heptarchy, Priscilla.” - -“Alas! nothing remains from that date except our name.” - -“And yet you are content to submerge it in the mushroom-growth -Wingfield? Have you no reverence for the past?” - -“Just now I confess that I am thinking more of the future. Oh, the -future, Jack, my boy--the future!” - -She laid a hand upon his shoulder and stood in front of him in the -attitude of a true comrade. - -“My pal!” he cried, taking the note from her. “My pal, was there ever a -time when we didn’t know each other?” - - - - -CHAPTER XIX - -ONLY one stipulation will I make, my dearest, and that is that we shall -not be married in a church.” - -He was taken somewhat aback when she said this--they were sitting -together among the apple blossoms of the orchard. She fancied that she -felt his hand loosen slightly on hers at the moment; but it might only -have been fancy. - -“I thought that women always went it blind for the church and ‘The Voice -that breathed o’er Eden,’ with the Wedding March to follow,” said he. - -“They do. I believe that there are dozens of girls who get married -solely for the sake of the ceremony,” she replied. - -“And I can swear that there are thousands of men who will have nothing -to do with it simply on account of the ceremony,” said he. “If there was -none of that nonsense of carriages and clergymen and top hats and a new -frock coat, the marriage-rate would soon go up instead of down. What has -the parson to do with the thing any way?” - -“He can be done without, and so can the whole service, which is really -only a melancholy mockery. Oh, never, never again will I repeat those -phrases formally at the bidding of a clergyman or any one else. The -‘love, honour, and obey’ will be between you and me, Jack, and two of -the three will be contingencies.” - -“Oh, I say!” - -“I sympathize with you and all that, of course; but I can only promise -to love you; the honour and obedience----” - -“Oh, throw them in to make up weight!” - -“They are both conditional. But we can hope for the best.... Jack, I -would not go through another marriage ceremony in a church even if there -was no other way of getting married. The horrible mockery! Think what -would have happened if that man whom I had promised before God’s altar -to honour, love, and obey had come straight to me on getting out of -gaol! Could he not have claimed me as his wife?” - -“Not he. There is no law that could compel you to go with him.” - -“Then there was no sacred obligation implied in the vows, as they call -them; and every sensible person is aware of this, and yet the mockery -of repeating the words is carried on day by day. Jack, I am willing -to believe that God instituted marriage, but not the marriage service -according to the Church of England.” - -“I agree with you, my dearest; but for the sake of peace and quiet, and -all that, don’t you say that to my mother.” - -“Nothing will induce me. I am not given to forcing my views on this -or any other subject on people who may have feelings or prejudices in -favour of the conventional. If I were to suggest to my father a marriage -before a registrar or in a British Consulate he would look on me as an -outcast.” - -“He goes back to the Heptarchy. Yes, what you say is quite right. This -little affair of ours concerns our two selves only.” - -She gave him her hand and he put it to his lips, but she could not help -noticing that his eyes were fixed musingly upon a promising gooseberry -bush. She wondered if he was considering how he was to break the news -to his mother; or was he wondering how she was to break the news to her -father? Either the one problem or the other would, she knew, entail a -fair amount of musing. - -And that was why she sent him away--it was actually approaching noon, -so quickly does a day pass when lovers who have recognized each other -as such for the first time come together. They had not stirred from the -apple orchard. When they had left the house immediately after breakfast -there had been some talk between them about the great dairy; he avowed -himself to be dying to see the dairy and she had promised to make him -acquainted with all the details of it’s working. But they had not stirred -from the orchard. She sat among the apple blossoms; all the world before -their eyes was filled with apple blossoms; apple blossoms were trembling -in the air between their eyes and the blue sky, and with every gracious -breath that came among the overhanging boughs a snow of apple blossoms -fluttered to their feet. - -And then the high walls of the orchard gave them such a sense of -security. - -They never went near the dairy. Neither of them had a thought for it; -even though its management was on the borders of the sublime. The first -move that they made meant separating (for the time being), and they were -long in making it. Of course it was she who sent him away. She thought -that she would do well to meet her father alone and break the news to -him. - -When her lover had gone from her, she ran into the house and up the -stairs that led to a small gable room with a window commanding a view of -the steep lane through which he would have to pass crossing the country -to the Manor. She waited breathless until he swam into her ken. He -remained in her sight for the better part of three minutes, and then his -occultation took place by the denseness of the foliage of the hedgerow. -But that three minutes!... - -Slowly she went to her own room and threw herself into an easy -chair--the very one in which she had sat scarcely more than a month -ago when reading the batch of American newspapers. That was the thought -which came to her now, and with it came a sense of the enormous space of -time that lay between the events of that day and the event of the hour -in which she was living. It was impossible to believe that it was to -be measured by weeks and not by years. Had she no premonition on that -afternoon, when the earth was smiling in all its newly washed greenery, -that the man whom she had seen for the first time that day would become -so much a part of her life--a part?--nay, all--all her life? She could -not remember having had such a thought suggested to her at that time; -but that only made her feel that her memory was treacherous. She felt -sure that she must have had such a premonition. Even though she had had -a great deal to think about on that afternoon she must have had space to -ask herself if she did not hope to meet him again. - -She remembered how extraordinary had been her sense of relief when -she had sat at this window in this same chair trying to realize the -truth--trying to realize that she was once more free--that the course of -life which she had planned out for herself and to which she was becoming -reconciled, as men who have been sentenced to imprisonment for life -become reconciled to their servitude, was to be changed--that she was -free to live and to love as she pleased. - -It had taken her a long time to realize the exact extent of what the -news meant to her; and among the details of the vista of realization -that opened itself out before her then, the figure of Jack Wingfield -sitting by her side among the apple blossoms had no place. She had never -so much as dreamt that within a month she should be within a step of -possessing that park through which she had been walking and that house -with the spacious rooms she had always admired, but, of course, in a -distant and impersonal way. - -Now she thoroughly realized how extraordinary was the happiness which -was within her reach; but, as is usual in the case of imaginative people -in similar circumstances, there came to her a cold suggestion of the -possibility of disaster--a feeling that it was impossible for such -happiness as hers to continue--a dread lest the cup which was being -filled for her lips should be shattered before it reached them. She had -experienced these pranks of Fate before now, and she had found that -it was wise not to count upon anything on which she had set her -heart, taking place in all the perfection in which it existed in her -imagination. - -That was why she now made herself miserable for some time, saying in her -heart: - -“It is too bright--the prospect is too full of sunshine. He will be -killed in a motor accident--the house will catch fire and he will be -burnt in his room--something will happen--I know it! It is not given to -any girl to realize such happiness as I see before me.” - -In another minute, however, she was rejoicing in her thought: “Never -mind! Whatever may be in store for us of evil, we shall have had our -day--neither Fate nor any other power of malice can make us unlive -to-day. His kisses, the clasp of his arms, the sense of possessing me -which he had, delighting me to feel that I had surrendered myself to -him--these cannot be erased from the things that have been. The joy that -is past cannot be taken away from us.” - -This stimulating reflection was enough for her. She went over all the -delightful incidents of the morning from the moment of her hearing his -voice until that last kiss of his had left its mark upon her cheek--she -could feel the brand of his ardour upon her face; it was still burning -her white flesh, and she had seen its glow when she had passed the -looking-glass. It was very sweet to her to recall all such incidents, -even though a quarter of an hour had scarcely passed since the last -had taken place; and gradually she groped her way free from the gloomy -forebodings which she had forced upon herself so as to cheat Fate out -of some of the malignant surprise which that power might be devising for -her undoing. The roseate tint of that kiss which lay upon her face had -tinted all the atmosphere of the past and the future as a drop of blood -tints a basin of water, and she saw everything through this medium. When -a girl believes that all her future life will be as exquisite as that -of a pink flower--as exquisite as that carnation bloom which she wore on -her cheek--she can have no serious misgivings--even when she hears the -heavy boot of her father. A father’s boot may awaken one from a pleasing -dream, but it need not portend disaster. - -He was hungry and hot when she joined him in the dining-room. He had had -a tiring day, and he had been compelled to wear a hat. He was a quarter -of an hour too soon for the early dinner which was the rule at the farm; -but still he thought that it should have been ready for him, because he -was ready for it. - -She managed to clip five minutes off his waiting, but he did not think -it necessary to applaud her achievement. It was an excellent meal and -he did ample justice to it, scarcely speaking a word--certainly no word -that had not a direct bearing upon the joint before him. It was not -until the cheese was being brought into the room that she noticed the -marks of a smile on his face. (She wondered if he saw the marks of -something else on hers.) - -“A funny thing has happened,” said he. “You remember that we were -talking some time ago about Mr. Dunning and his pigheadedness in letting -Glyn give up his farm rather than allow him a year’s rent in starting a -market garden? Well, it seems that young Wingfield has been out at the -farm and has come to the conclusion that Dunning did wrong, and down he -came upon Dunning like a sack of potatoes the other morning, accusing -him of cheating him out of two years’ rent and so forth; and then -nothing would do him but he looks up Verrall at the Manor Farm, and -makes it pretty lively for everyone there, winding up by turning out -Verrall neck and crop. I saw Verrall just now at Gollingford looking for -a job. He gave me his version of the story; and I asked him if he hadn’t -left out the part about his being drunk--I took it for granted that -he had been drunk; he wasn’t many hours off being drunk at eleven this -morning. He was, I fancy, mid-channel between. Wingfield is less of a -fool than we fancied. Why are you laughing in that queer way, Priscilla, -eh?” - -“I am laughing because I was about to mention Mr. Wingfield’s name to -you, in a way that may possibly make you believe that there’s a great -deal more in him than you could believe, for he has been with me all -the morning, and long before eight he had asked me to marry him, and -I--I--gave him my word--at least, I gave him to understand that I would -marry him.” - -While she was speaking he had cut up his cheese. He paused with a piece -on the point of his knife in the act of conveying it to his mouth. It -never reached its destination. When she had spoken he did not give a -start, nor did he make an exclamation; he simply lowered the point of -his knife slowly until the cheese dropped off it, and then he laid the -knife across his plate, staring at her all the time. - -He stared at her, but he could not utter a word. She saw him make the -attempt, and smiled. - -“Of course I have given you a great surprise,” she said; “but I am sure -that it must be a pleasant surprise, father. You did not know that I was -acquainted with Jack Wingfield.” - -But her speaking thus easily had not, it appeared, done much to help -him. After the lapse of a minute or two, however, she saw a gleam come -into his eyes. He groped for his tankard of beer on the table-cloth, for -he had not taken his eyes away from her face. Nor did he do so even when -he was swallowing his beer; his eyes looking over the rim of the tankard -gave him a very comical look. - -Her smile became a laugh, and then the blank look on his face became a -very definite frown. - -“I don’t see the fun in such jokes, girl,” he said moodily, and he -picked up the piece of cheese in his fingers and jerked it into his -mouth. “I can’t for the life of me see how you--you, with the experience -you have had, can make a jest of anything that has to do with marriage.” - -He pushed his chair back from the table and got upon his feet, brushing -to the floor some crumbs that had clung to his knees. - -“I have told you the truth, father,” she said. “I have been acquainted -with Jack Wingfield for some time. I liked him very much from the first, -and I could see that he came suddenly to like me. I paid a visit to -his mother--such a charming woman! I expected him to come to me some of -these days. He came to-day--quite early in the morning, and--I gave him -breakfast; but that was, of course, afterwards. That’s the whole story.” - -“Marriage--does he mean marriage--marriage? You are sure that he doesn’t -mean to make a fool of you, girl?” he said in a low voice that had -a good deal of meaning in it. “I have heard that he is a scamp--an -empty-headed man who was expelled from college for bad conduct. Would -his grandfather have tied up the estate, think you, if it hadn’t been -that he knew the young fellow would make ducks and drakes of it? Does he -mean marriage?” - -“What else does a man mean when he asks a girl to marry him?” - -“There’s such a thing as a left-handed marriage. I know these idle -gentry. Game rights--some of them believe that the maidens on their -estates are fair game. The rascals! Is that what’s in this youngster’s -mind, do you think?” - -“He brought me to see his mother.” - -She spoke in a low voice, and rose from the table. - -“Why didn’t he come to me in the first place?” said her father. -“What business had he making advances to you before he had got my -consent--tell me that?” - -“I told him my story,” she replied. “Perhaps he gathered from it that, -having once obeyed the commands of my parents, I should take care ever -after to act on my own judgment. He talked to-day about seeing you; I -told him that there was no need.” - -“Why should there be no need if he means to run straight? I would see -that he meant right before I gave my consent. I don’t want you to be -fooled by him or any other man even if he was a lord. You’re not in his -station in life, and you know it. If he was making up to some one in -his own station he would have to see her father first. What is there to -laugh at?” - -She had become rosy, and had given a laugh when he made use of the old -phrase; but she could scarcely explain to him that her laugh was due to -her recalling the sequel to her introduction of the same phrase a few -hours earlier. - -“I can’t tell you how funny--I mean how--how--no; all that I can tell -you is that I have accepted Jack Wingfield and that I mean to marry him -and be a good wife to him.” - -“You can say that--you can talk about marrying another man before two -months have passed! I’m ashamed of you.” - -At first she did not know what he meant by his reference to two -months--two months’ since what? Then all at once it flashed upon her -that he had in his mind the incident that should have been appropriately -commemorated (according to his idea) by widow’s weeds. - -“I think that we had better not return to that particular matter,” she -said. “We can never look at it from the same standpoint. I married once -to please you and my mother; I will marry now to please myself.” - -“Decency is decency, all the same, whatever your notions may be,” said -he. “No daughter of mine with my consent will become engaged to a man so -as to outrage every sense of decency. A year is the very shortest space -of time that must elapse--even a year is too short for good taste.” - -“A year and more has passed since you gave me to that man--the man you -choose for me--a year since I outraged a sense that is very much higher -than your sense of decency by promising to honour a wretch who was -trying to accomplish my dishonour.” - -“What do you mean, Priscilla? Didn’t he marry you honestly in the -church? Give the man his due. I doubt if this young Wingfield’s -intentions are so honourable.” - -She rose from the table saying: “I will talk no more to you on this -subject, father. I thought that after my year of suffering--oh, my God! -what I suffered! And you could look on and know nothing of it! Was ever -a girl plunged as I was into such a seven-times-heated furnace of shame? -Was it nothing to me, do you think, to walk in the street and see women -nudge one another as I came up--to see myself pointed out to strangers -and to hear them mutter ‘Poor thing!’ or ‘What a pity she made such -a fool of herself!’--to have it set down to me that I was a girl so -anxious to find a husband that I jumped at the first man that offered, -without making the least enquiry as to his character? I told you that -when that man wrote to you for your consent--he was so scrupulous, -you know, he would do nothing without your consent--I told you that I -disliked him--that I distrusted him--that I could never be happy with -him, and yet you put me aside as if I were not worthy of a moment’s -consideration--you put my opinion aside and urged on my poor mother to -make her appeal to me, the consequences of which killed her. With -all that fresh in your mind--with some knowledge at least of what -my sufferings for that horrible year must have been--feeling my life -ruined--linked for ever to that man’s handcuffs--in spite of all this -you can still question my right to choose for myself--you can still -insult both me and the man whom I have promised to marry! That being so -we would do well not to talk any further on this topic.” - -She walked out of the room, leaving him still in his chair, his head set -square upon his shoulders and his lips tight shut. He allowed her to go -without a word from him. The truth was that she had given him a surprise -and a shock. Never once had she accused him during the year of having -failed to do his duty as a father in protecting her from the possibility -of such a calamity as had befallen her. Never once had she referred to -his persistence in urging her to marry Marcus Blaydon; so that he had -come to fancy, first, that she had forgotten this circumstance, and, -later on, that he had been all too ready to condemn himself for the -part he had taken in insisting on her marrying that man. Whatever slight -qualms he may have felt during the days of the man’s trial, when the -infernally sympathetic newspapers were referring to his daughter as a -victim, and pointing their usual moral in the direction of the necessity -there was for fathers to take a stricter view of their duties as the -protectors of their daughters from the schemes of adventurers--whatever -qualms he may have felt about this time at the thought that, but for his -persistence and his daughter’s sense of duty, Priscilla might never have -been subjected to such an ordeal, had long ago waned, and he had come -to think of himself once again as a model father. The thought that his -daughter was about to make what worldly people would call a brilliant -match, quite without his assistance, was displeasing to him. Still, he -might have got over his chagrin and given his consent; but that long -speech of hers had taken his breath away. It had left him staring at the -tablecloth and absolutely dumfounded. - -She had clearly been having a little savings bank of grievances during -the year, and now she had flung the result of her thrift in his face. - -It was no wonder that he remained dumb. - - - - -CHAPTER XX - -Was there any reason why they should wait for a year? - -That was the question which came up for discussion between them every -time they met, which was usually once a day. It was, as a rule, at -the hour of parting that the question came up for dispassionate -consideration. And they discussed it quite dispassionately, he with -his arms clasping her shoulders, and she enjoying an extremely close -inspection of the sapphire in his tie, at intervals of pulling his -moustache into fantastic twists, merging through this medium his -identity into that of many distinguished personages, Imperial as well as -Presidential, and even poetical. - -“A year! Great Gloriana! What rot! A whole year? But why--why?” - -“Why, indeed? But your mother--she takes the year for granted.” - -“And I suppose your father would turn you out of his house if you were -to marry me inside that time?” - -“That would be almost certain. It is generally assumed that a year----” - -And here there would be an interval--a breathless interlude in the -academic consideration of that nice question in the etiquette of -wedlock. - -And then they got tired of discussing it, and it was relegated to the -lovers’ limbo of the unnecessary. - -But if there were grave reasons (in the eyes of such people as accepted -the conventional as the inevitable) why they should not be married for a -year, there did not seem to be any reason why the intentions of the pair -should be concealed for the same period. Mr. Wingfield appeared several -times in the High Street of Framsby with Miss Wadhurst beside him in his -motor; and after the third time of observing so remarkable an incident, -some of the onlookers made an honest attempt to account for it. The best -set discussed it, and agreed that, being people of the world, they -would not shake their heads in condemnation of the antics of a -young reprobate. When a young reprobate has a rent roll of something -approaching fifteen thousand a year his peccadilloes must be looked on -with the eye of leniency. - -The fiat having gone forth to this effect, the members of the best set -looked indulgently into the shop windows when they noticed the approach -of the motor with the silly young man and the foolish young woman side -by side. This was very advanced, the best set thought--it put them on a -level of tact with the best set in Trouville or Monte Carlo, where -they understood such incidents were quite usual. But of course when the -mothers came upon Mr. Wingfield when he was alone, they did not fail to -recognize him or to do their best to induce him to accompany them home -to tea. Equally as a matter of course when they met Priscilla they -either looked across the street or at the telegraph wires between the -roofs in front of them. The elderly ones sniffed, and the younger ones -sneered. - -But when one day Miss Wadhurst appeared by the side of Mrs. Wingfield -in her victoria the impression produced in Framsby was indescribable. -It was paralysing. A four-line whip was passed round the members of the -best set calling them to their places in the front row of the pavilion -seats at the Tennis and Croquet Club to discuss the situation. - -“The poor old lady! She could have no idea of what has been going on!” - -“It would be an act of duty--certainly of charity--to give her a hint.” - -“Or write her a letter--not necessarily signed--charity is sometimes all -the more effective when bestowed anonymously.” - -“That girl is artful enough for anything.” - -“And pushing enough for anything. Did you notice how she was always -throwing herself in the way of the Countess at the Open Meeting?” - -“Surely Mr. Possnett will think it his duty to warn Mrs. Wingfield.” - -(The Reverend Osney Possnett was the Vicar of Athalsdean.) - -So the discussion of the grave and disturbing social question went on -among the members of the front row; and the caterer, observing askance -the amount of tea and tea cake incidentally consumed, made up his mind -that if another question came forward demanding the same amount of -sustenance as that--whatever it was--which was now being dealt with, he -would be compelled to increase his _per capita_ charge from sixpence to -ninepence. - -And then, just when they were warming on the question, stimulated by -copious cups, the effect of which all the cucumber sandwiches failed to -neutralize, Rosa Caffyn entered the pavilion with Mrs. Bowlby-Sutherst, -and asked for tea for two. - -Mrs. Gifford, the wife of the Colonial Civil Servant, who was the leader -of the best set, was quick to perceive her opportunity. She knew that -Rosa Caffyn was, in the face of all opposition, the friend of Priscilla -Wadhurst, and so might be made the means of conveying to that young -woman some idea of the grave scandal that her conduct was exciting. She -rose from her place and hurried to Rosa’s table. - -“We have just been discussing a very disagreeable incident,” she -remarked, after greeting the girl and Mrs. Bowlby-Sutherst. - -“Oh, then we have arrived quite opportunely to give you a chance of -discussing a very delightful one,” cried Mrs. Bowlby-Sutherst. - -“We have not heard any delightful one,” said Mrs. Gifford. - -“What, do you mean to say that you have not heard that that pretty Miss -Wadhurst, the girl with that wonderful hair, you know, is engaged to -Jack Wingfield? Why, where have you been living? Don’t you take in the -_Morning Post?_ No? Oh, well, I suppose it would not contain much to -interest you.” - -Mrs. Bowlby-Sutherst was very much of the county; she was indifferent -to Framsby’s “sets.” She watched with malicious interest the collapse of -the leader of the best and resumed her revelation. - -“Oh, yes; it was in the _Post_ this morning, ‘A marriage is arranged,’ -and the rest of it. I knew that you would all be glad to hear of it, but -I thought that you would be the first to get the pleasant news. Rosa and -I are driving to the Manor to offer our felicitations. Miss Wadhurst -is staying there with Mrs. Wingfield. It’s so nice when a handsome and -clever girl like that is making a good match; and the poor girl deserves -something good as a set-off against that unlucky affair of hers.” - -“She is a clever young woman,” said Mrs. Gifford spitefully. “Oh, yes, a -very clever young woman! I hear that she milks her father’s cows.” - -“Oh, my dear Mrs. Gifford, you are very far behind the times,” laughed -Rosa. “Nobody milks cows nowadays. You might as well talk of Priscilla -using one of the old barrel churns. It’s all done by machinery.” - -“And will you have some of the machine-made in your tea, Rosa?” asked -Mrs. Bowlby-Sutherst, poising the jug over the cups which had just been -brought to the table. - -“Thank you--that’s enough,” said Rosa. “And let me offer you some of the -machine-made butter on the machine-made bread.” - -“I think I’ll try a hand at a hand-made sandwich,” said Mrs. -Bowlby-Sutherst. “There’s a joke in that somewhere, I feel--can you -catch it?” - -“Hand-made sandwiches made by the handmaid of the caterer--is that it?” - asked Rosa after a thoughtful frown--the frown of the habitual prize -acrostic-solver and anagram-maker of the English vicarage. - -Mrs. Gifford felt rather neglected when the two others laughed together -quite merrily. She rather thought that she would take a stroll round the -grounds. - -“One of the cats,” whispered Rosa. - -“The leader of the tabbies,” assented Mrs. Bowlby-Sutherst. “But don’t -you make any mistake, my dear: although she’s wild to hear that your -friend is doing so well for herself----” - -“And for Mr. Wingfield.” - -“And for Mr. Wingfield--in spite of that, you may rest perfectly certain -that she will leave cards with pencilled congratulations upon the Manor -people as early as possible to-morrow. Another sandwich?” - -And that prognosis turned out to be correct. Several members of the best -set called at the Manor the next day and left congratulatory cards. They -had in view the possibility of future _fêtes_ at the Manor; they would -do any reasonable amount of calling or crawling to get invited to a -garden-party given by a county person; and Miss Wadhurst was to be -promoted over the heads of a large number of aspirants to a position in -the county. - -Although there were a certain number of persons who affirmed that she -was showing very doubtful taste indeed in becoming engaged to any one, -even a man with a rent roll of something like fifteen thousand a year, -within a few months after receiving the news of the death of the other -man, still Miss Wadhurst got quite a large number of cards of the same -nature from ladies who had done their best to keep her in her place in -the past, and who were clearly hoping that their failure to do so would -prejudice her in their favour in the days to come. - -But when a month had passed and the people of Framsby had almost ceased -discussing the question of the advancement of Miss Wadhurst, there came -a faint rumour to the effect that the _rapprochement_ between the young -couple was not quite so complete as it had been. They were no longer -seen together either on foot or in the motor, and while heads were being -shaken and significant winks exchanged, the definite announcement -was made (by Mrs. Gifford) that a final rupture had taken place. The -engagement was broken off, and the principals to that pencilled contract -had separated. - -A small and discreet commission of enquiry made their report on the -subject, the tenor of which removed any doubt that might possibly remain -on any mind. Investigations proved that the young man had elected to -run away; and the fact that his mother had affirmed that he had gone -on business, even specifying this business and alleging that he was -endeavouring to find a substitute for Mr. Dunning, the agent, whose -health had unfortunately broken down, necessitating his taking a long -voyage, suggested that she had had a hand in the breaking off of the -engagement. As for the young woman, it was thought very natural that -she should desire to avoid the humiliation of meeting, under altered -conditions, her Framsby friends, whose cards of congratulation she had -never so much as acknowledged. - -Rosa Caffyn knew all about her, and when interrogated, said that -Priscilla had gone to pay a visit to a girl friend of hers in -Dorsetshire, who was at the point of leaving England with her father, a -major-general in the army, about to take up an appointment in the Bengal -Presidency. This was Rosa’s story, and every one acknowledged that Rosa -was a staunch friend to Priscilla, unfortunate though the latter had -been; for she was ready to deny the breaking off of the engagement--to -be exact, she had not quite gone so far as to deny it in so many words: -being the daughter of a parson, however, she was sufficiently adroit -in choosing words which by themselves expressed what was the truth, and -could not be regarded as compromising, should it be found out, later -on, that they had been the means of promulgating a falsehood. “Every one -knows how guarded clergymen can be in this way,” said Mrs. Gifford and -her friends. - -Rosa’s exact words, when questioned, were these:--“She said nothing to -me about the engagement being broken off.” - -Oh, yes; Rosa was a staunch friend, but it could do her no good to -suggest in this way that the engagement was still unbroken; the whole -truth was bound to come out eventually. - -Of course, Mrs. Wingfield could not be asked directly if there was any -truth in the report. Being a semi-invalid she was rarely at home to any -of the Framsby people. But as ten days had passed and her son had not -yet returned to the Manor, it might surely be assumed that the lady’s -story about her son’s expedition in search of a new agent was partaking -of the character of Rosa Caffyn’s statement. Estate agents were not -so rare as black swans, they said; a man on the look-out for one could -certainly manage to obtain a specimen in less than ten days. - -Then there was Farmer Wadhurst; he was a straightforward man and a -man of business, and though officially connected with the church, yet -without that adroitness at misleading through the medium of verbally -accurate phrases, which--according to Framsby’s best set--is -characteristic of parsons and the members of their families--Mr. -Wadhurst might be approached on the subject of his daughters engagement. -But Mr. Wadhurst was not easy of approach on social matters, though -always ready to talk of “cake.” He had his theories regarding this form -of confectionery for milch kine, and was always ready to say which breed -should take the cake, and in what quantities. But he quickly repelled -the approach of such persons as came to congratulate him on the -engagement of his daughter--a fact that caused them to wink at their -friends and say that that was the right position for a yeoman to take up -in respect of his daughter’s engagement to the young squire. He was not -going to stand congratulations on such a thing. He was an English yeoman -and he paid his way, and he wasn’t the man to regard an alliance with -the Manor as a tremendous thing for him or his daughter either. He knew -all about the Wadhursts, and he knew all about the Wingfields, and he -wasn’t going to truckle down to any Wingfields, or, for that matter, to -the Duke himself; no, not he. - -This was Farmer Wadhurst. But someone, stimulated by a desire to find -out the exact truth, managed to approach him--a tradesman who enjoyed -the Gifford custom. - -“We haven’t seen your young lady about of late, sir,” he remarked when -the business excuse had been completed. “We hope that she’s well, and -nothing wrong, sir.” - -“You could hardly have seen her here, for she’s been in Dorset for the -past fortnight, and so far as I know she’s in good health,” said Farmer -Wadhurst. But in the act of leaving the shop a thought seemed to occur -to him. He turned round, and looked at the tradesman suspiciously. - -“What did you mean by that?” he asked. - -“Mean by what?” - -“By ‘nothing wrong’? What do you suspect is wrong?” - -The man held up horny hands of protest. - -“Bless your heart! Mr. Wadhurst, you musn’t take me up like that,” he -cried. “I meant nought more’n or’nary remark. I’d be the last man in -Framsby to hint at ought being wrong; I would indeed, sir, as I hope -you know. I’ve all’ays said that in this case it is the man that’s the -really lucky one, and I don’t care who knows it, Mr. Wadhurst.” - -Mr. Wadhurst gave a searching glance at the man, and then left the shop. -He was not quite satisfied with the explanation which the man had given -him of his use of that very ordinary phrase. “Nothing wrong--nothing -wrong--we hope there’s nothing wrong”--the words buzzed about him all -the time he was walking down the High Street. “Nothing wrong!” Why, what -could there be wrong? What could there be wrong? What sort of gossip was -going about? Who had been saying that anything was wrong? - -He went down the street to where his dogcart was waiting for him, and -mounting to his seat, drove off in the direction of the farm; but before -he had gone more than half a mile along the road he turned his horse -about, and drove quickly back to Framsby. He pulled up at the post -office, and, descending, entered the place and, after a considerable -amount of thought, composed and wrote out a telegram. - -Then he mounted his dogcart and drove off to his farm. - - - - -CHAPTER XXI - -It was barely ten o’clock the next morning when Mrs. Wingfield, telling -her maid that she felt that this was going to be one of her good days, -got her seat moved out of the shady part of the terrace into the region -of the fitful sunlight that had followed a liquid dawn. The day was -a grey one, with lazy pacing clouds very high up in the air; and the -occasional glimpses of tempered brilliance which the land was allowed -between the folds of the billowy vapour, were very grateful to the lady. -She had letters and a book and a writing-case. - -She had scarcely settled herself down among her cushions before she -heard the sound of wheels on the carriage drive--she could not have -heard it if her chair had remained on the shady part of the terrace. -Then came the sound of a man’s voice--imperative--insistent--set off -by the murmured replies of the butler. The insistence became more -insistent, and the replies louder--more staccato. Then the butler -appeared on the terrace. - -“Mr. Wadhurst is here, ma’am--says his business is important. I told -him that you were not at home to anyone in the morning unless by -appointment; but he said it was very important--in fact that he must see -you, ma’am. I did my best to put him off---I did indeed, ma’am; it was -no use. He’s not easy put off. So I said I would see if you would. If -not, ma’am, I’ll-----” - -“Certainly I’ll see Mr. Wadhurst,” said Mrs. Wingfield when the butler -had murmured his explanations to her. “Ask him to be good enough to come -on the terrace. Draw that cane chair closer.” - -“Very good, ma’am,” said the butler, retiring with dignity and leaving -the lady to wonder what Farmer Wadhurst could possibly want with her at -that hour of the morning. She had never seen Farmer Wadhurst. - -She saw him now. A large man with big bones, a slight stoop and a -suggestion of Saxon sandiness about his hair and beard. - -She rose to greet him, and the butler once more retired. - -“I am very pleased to meet you, Mr. Wadhurst,” she said. “I think it is -very likely that, if you had not come here to me, I should have ventured -to pay you a visit.” - -“What, have you heard something?” he asked eagerly. - -“Heard something? Well, nothing more than your daughter told me, Mr. -Wadhurst,” she replied. “But, surely, if my son and your daughter have -made up their minds, you and I should not turn cold shoulders to them. -Priscilla, I know, feels deeply your----” - -“Where’s your son to-day, ma’am?” cried Farmer Wadhurst, interrupting -the gracious words of the lady. “Where is he to-day, and where has he -been for the past fortnight?” - -“He has been in several places,” she replied. “He went to look after -an agent--Mr. Dunning has left us--it was very awkward--first to -Buckinghamshire, then to Lincoln. I got a letter from him yesterday from -Sandy-cliffe; he is having some yachting--a week of yachting. I fancy he -saw his chance now that Priscilla is visiting her friend. I don’t think -he would have been so ready if she----” - -“Read that,” cried the man, interrupting her once again, laying a -telegram--almost flinging it--on the table before her. - -“What is this?” she enquired, looking about for her _pince-nez_. “It is -a telegram from Jack. What--what--oh, don’t tell me that something has -happened--that he is hurt--something dreadful--that you were sent to -break it to me.” - -“Read it,” he said. “Something dreadful! Maybe not so dreadful to you; -not so strange either. You are his mother; you may have heard something -like it about him before.” - -She had found her glasses, and picked up the telegram with shaking -fingers. - -“_Priscilla no longer here left week yesterday?_ - -“What does this mean?” she asked. “She was staying with Miss Branksome -at Lullton Priory. Is this from General Branksome?” - -“I got wind of something being wrong,” said he, “and I telegraphed last -evening to the Branksomes asking if she was with them. That’s the answer -I got. You know what it means. But I warned her. God knows I did my duty -by her in warning her against him. She would not listen to me.” - -“I don’t know what you are thinking of. Can you not tell me what it is -that is in your mind? You surely do not suppose that Priscilla--that my -son---” - -“What’s in my mind is that your son is a scoundrel, ma’am--that’s what’s -in my mind--a rank, foul scoundrel! He has induced her to run away with -him, and for the past week they have been living together as man and -wife, wherever he is.” - -“You lie, sir; I tell you, you lie. My son may have his faults, but he -was never a seducer of women.” - -“Then he has begun now; every wickedness must have a start. He has -started with my daughter. I knew that he meant no good. I warned -her--God knows that I warned her, not once, but twice--every time that -I’d a chance of words with her. It wasn’t often of late; she had a way -of stalking out of the room every time that I opened my lips to warn her -against him.” - -“Mr. Wadhurst, you are mistaken. I feel certain that you are mistaken,” - she cried. “What object could he have in carrying out so shocking -a scheme? There was no obstacle in the way of their marriage. I had -received Priscilla as a daughter.” - -He smiled. “Mothers know nothing of the ways of their sons,” he said. -“I’ve known some that looked on their sons as saints, when all the -time----” - -“I don’t care what you knew,” she said. “I know my son, and let me add -that I also know your daughter--apparently I know her a good deal better -than you ever knew her. Don’t behave like a fool Mr. Wadhurst. Don’t -waste your time in this foolish way--every moment may be precious. -Priscilla may have gone to pay another visit; but on the other hand, -something may have happened to her. She may be in danger. One reads of -such things in the papers, never fancying that they may one day happen -to our own friends--in our own families. No time should be lost in -making enquiries. I will telegraph to my son, and you may be sure that -he will do his best--he will know what should be done. He would be -distracted at the thought that she is in danger.” - -Mr. Wadhurst smiled more bitterly than before. “In danger! She has been -in danger from the first moment she set eyes upon him. An evil hour it -was--an evil hour. What have I done that these evils should fall upon -me?” He had turned away from the lady, and was standing with his hand -clenched over the crumpled telegram as if he was addressing the -carved satyrs’ heads on the stone vases that stood on the piers of the -balustrade. “What have I done that these things should happen to me?” He -seemed to have an idea that Providence kept books on a proper system of -double entry, and every now and again, by the aid of a competent staff -of recording angels, posted up the ledgers and struck balances. Farmer -Wadhurst could not understand how, if this was done systematically, -he should be so badly treated. He believed that he had still a large -balance to his credit. - -“Don’t waste any more time; it may be precious,” suggested the lady -again; and he turned upon her with an expression of fierceness. - -“I’ll take your advice,” he cried. “I’ll not waste any more time. I’ll -find her--and him--and him. I know where to look for her; wherever he -be, she’ll be there too. I’ll go to her--and him.” - -“And I’ll go with you,” she said, rising. “I’ll go with you to -Sandycliffe, and he will, I know, confide in me. He is certain to know -where she is to be found; but if he does not, he will know what should -be done. He would be distracted if anything were to happen to her.” - -He seemed to be startled by the suggestion. He looked at her for several -seconds; then his eyes fell. - -“You think that I mean to kill him?” he said in a low voice. - -“No,” she replied. “You would not try to kill him unless you-found them -together, and I am confident that they are not together.” - -“You need not be afraid for him--it is not him that I mean to kill.” - -“I am afraid neither for him nor for her, Mr. Wadhurst.” - -“Come, then, if you’re not afraid. It’s only a two-hour journey to the -coast. There’s a train in forty minutes from now--no, half an hour from -now. I’ve been here ten minutes. I looked it up. You will catch that -train if you mean to come. I’ll make sure of it myself.” - -He spoke almost roughly, and when he had spoken he turned round and -strode away. She called to him, begging him to come back, but he paid -no attention to her. He seemed anxious to make it plain to her that he -refused to recognize the fact that they were acting in concert in this -business--to make it plain that he was going for one purpose, and she -for quite another. She felt that he was a nasty man--a detestable man. -She liked Priscilla not merely because Jack loved her, but also because -Priscilla embodied all that she considered admirable in a girl; but now -she wished with all her heart that she had never come across her son’s -track. - -She perceived that there was no time to lose if she meant to catch the -10.47 train from Framsby to Gallington Junction, where one changed for -Sandycliffe. - -She also perceived that it would never do to allow that man to go -alone to the place. She was positive that Jack and Priscilla were not -together, but she distrusted Mr. Wadhurst. She had no confidence in his -powers of deduction or in his self-restraint. She saw as in a picture -the meeting between that man and her son--she could hear the irritating -words that the former would speak---the sharp and contemptuous replies -of the other--exasperation on both sides, and then perhaps blows--blows -or worse. - -It would not do to miss that train. - -She had set the household moving within a minute or two, and the motor -was ordered to be at the door in ten minutes. Her maid was overwhelmed -at the very idea of a start like this at a moment’s notice. She began -to remonstrate, but her mistress was peremptory; and amazed her by the -vehemence with which she commanded her to hold her tongue and get out a -travelling dress. It was only by much straightforward speaking that the -flight was accomplished in good time, and the railway station reached -with four minutes to spare. The maid found such a period all too short -for the full expression of her grievances in being compelled to start on -a journey in her house-dress with a most inappropriate wrap to conceal -its true character as far as possible--it was too short a space of time -for her purpose, but she certainly did her best. - -At first Mrs. Wingfield thought that Mr. Wadhurst had not arrived at the -station. He was nowhere to be seen. It was not until the train had come -in, and Mrs. Wingfield and her maid had taken their seats, that the man -appeared--he had hidden himself in the goods office, utilizing his time -by an enquiry regarding some crates of machinery which he expected. -He went past the first-class carriages without looking into any -compartment. When the change was being made at the junction she failed -to see him. But when Sandyclifle was reached she found that he -had travelled in a second-class compartment, that was next to her -first-class carriage. He took no notice of her, but walked with those -long strides of his out of the station in front of her. - -He was in a position to take notice of her when she met him face to face -coming out of the hotel door when she was at the point of entering. - -“Go in and make your enquiries, ma’am,” he said grimly. “You will find -out whether your opinion or mine of your son is the true one.” - -“What, is it possible that--that--he--they----” - -“They are here. Make your enquiries.” - -He went away, and she entered the hotel and hastened to the office. - -Oh, yes; Mr. Wingfield was staying there, the young lady said. - -“Alone?” asked the mother. - -“Only Mrs. Wingfield. They will be in for lunch at one. They have been -sailing since morning,” was the reply. - -Mrs. Wingfield could scarcely walk so far as the coffee-room. When she -managed to do so, she found that her maid had justified the character -she had always borne for thoughtfulness: a slice of cold chicken and a -small bottle of dry Ayala were on the table in front of her. - -“You must eat and drink now,” she said. “This promised to be one of your -good days; but that rush to the train and that long journey will go far -to make it one of your worst if we are not careful.” - -Of course the maid knew, as did every one at the Manor, of the -ridiculous visit of Farmer Wadhurst, and she was one of the few who -guessed rightly what was its purport. She was fully aware of all that -was meant by this breathless flight to the coast, and, as she had had -something like forty years’ experience of the world and the wickedness -of men and the credulity of women and the ambiguity of the word Love, -she had never for a moment doubted what would be the issue of this -journey. It was not at all necessary for Mrs. Wingfield to say to her, -as she did while the champagne was creaming in the glass: - -“Walters, Mr. Wingfield is here, and I have just learned that Miss -Wadhurst is here also--you saw Mr. Wadhurst and you will know, I am -sure, that it would never do for them to meet.” - -“It must be prevented at any cost, ma’am,” acquiesced Walters. “Where’s -Mr. Wingfield and Miss Wadhurst just now?” - -“They are out sailing; they will be here for lunch at one. It is -necessary that I should meet them.” - -“Quite so, ma’am. It’s a pity; but you’ll do it. This is one of your -good days. To-morrow will most likely be one of your worst. But it can’t -be helped.” - -“It cannot be helped. If I were to fail to meet them before--before -anyone else can meet them--there would be no more good days for me in -the world, Walters.” - -“Drink the champagne, ma’am, and rest quite still for half an hour and -you’ll be able to do it without risk.” - -Mrs. Wingfield obeyed her. She took some mouthfuls of the chicken -and then drank two glasses of the champagne. Her maid had spied a -comfortable chair overlooking the tennis lawns close at hand and the sea -in the distance. To this she led Mrs. Wingfield, and there she left her -with a wrap about her knees, to wait for her anxious half-hour. - -The day was less grey at Sandyclifife than it had been at the Manor, and -certainly the air was cooler. A breeze was blowing shorewards, bearing -in every breath the sweet salt smell of the Channel. It came very -gratefully to that poor weary lady sitting there waiting for what the -next hour should bring to her. - -But what could it bring to her except disaster? The man had told her -that he had no intention of making an attempt to punish her son; but -what did it matter about the man or his intentions? It was not the -consequences of the act that troubled her, it was the sin of the act. - -The thought that a son of hers--her only son--should be guilty of -anything so base, so cruel, so mean, so selfish, made her feel sadder -than she would have felt had the news been brought to her that he was -dead. - -She felt that so long as she lived there would cling to her the -consciousness that she had brought into the world a son who had been -guilty of an act of vice which she could never condone. That was what -her whole future would be--clouded with that consciousness, when she had -been hoping so much that was good for the days to come. - -And then, like every other good woman who is a mother of sons whose feet -have strayed from the straight road, she began to think if she had any -reason to reproach herself for his lapse. Had anything that she had -said or done led up to his commission of the baseness? Was she to be -reproached because of the ease with which she had withdrawn whatever -distaste she had at first felt for the idea of his wishing to marry a -girl who was not socially in his own rank of life? Surely not. If she -had opposed his wishes as so many other mothers would have done, she -might find reason for some self-reproach; but she had been kind and -sympathetic and had taken the girl to her heart; and yet this was how -he had shown his appreciation of her kindness--of her ridding herself -of every prejudice that she might reasonably have had in regard to -his loving of a girl situated as Priscilla was. This was how he was -rewarding her! - -The impression of which she was conscious at that moment was only one of -disappointment--supreme disappointment--such disappointment as one may -feel at the end of one’s life on finding out that the object for which -one has lived and laboured from the beginning to the end is absolutely -worthless. She felt sad, not angry. She felt that if her son were to -appear before her she could weep, but she could not denounce him. - -While she sat there thinking over the whole matter, her tears began to -fall before she became aware of it; and it was while she was holding -her handkerchief to her eyes that they came up, her son and Priscilla, -walking across the springy turf of the lawn so that she heard no sound -of their approach. - -When she removed all the tears that a handkerchief can remove--it only -touches the outward ones--they were standing before her. - -She did not cry out; she did not start. She only looked at them and -turned away her head. - -“Speak to her,” said he in a low voice, and he too turned away his face -from the accusation of his mother’s tears. - -Priscilla took a step forward and knelt before her, leaning across her -knees with caressing arms about her waist. - -“You will forgive us, dearest mother,” she said. “You will forgive me -because I did it out of love for him, and you will forgive him because -he did it out of love for me. Whichever of us is most to blame you will -forgive the most because that one is the one that loved the most.” - -The mother looked down at the lovely thing that pressed against her -knees. She laid a hand upon her shoulder, and at the touch the girl’s -eyes became full of tears. The other felt them warm on the hand that she -was pressing to her lips. - -There was a long silence. - -“Mother,” he said at last, for he noticed that some of the guests of the -hotel were strolling about the further edge of the lawn, and they might -choose to enter the dining-room by the French window that opened behind -his mother’s chair. “Mother, you will not blame either of us. We had -both the same feeling that we should make sure of such happiness as we -saw awaiting us lest it should be snatched from us by that malignant -Fate which delights to spoil a man’s prospects when they seem brightest. -That was why I forced Priscilla to marry me on the sly.” - -“I knew that you would detest the very name of a registrar, and I could -never bring myself to face the ceremony in the church,” said Priscilla. -“But indeed I will be as good a daughter to you as if the Church had had -a voice in the ceremony. Bless me, even me also, O my mother, and our -marriage will be blessed.” - -Then the mother fell on her neck, kissing her, and saying: - -“It is I who have to ask your forgiveness, dear. I cannot tell you -what--I thought--base--base! Oh, my darling, you have made me so happy; -you did what was right. I will never accuse you again.” - -She was looking up smiling through her tears as she held out a hand to -her son. - -“I knew that you would not be like other women,” he said. “You are the -best woman in the world--the best mother that a man with a mind for -wickedness could have. You don’t know all that you have kept me out -of. But why did you come to us to-day, mother? Did you suspect--great -Gloriana! Here’s your father, Priscilla. A regular family party--what!” - Mrs. Wingfield the elder laughed quite spitefully--quite triumphantly as -Mr. Wadhurst hurried across the lawn. He had spent half an hour on the -beach waiting for the approach of a yacht that was standing off and on -in the light breeze. He could not know that the hotel people had made a -mistake and that Mr. and Mrs. Wingfield had not left the shore. - -He was hurrying across the lawn, and on his face there was a look which -his daughter was able to interpret. That was why she spoke before he had -time to utter a word. - -“Father,” she said, “I don’t think that you ever met my husband, though -I daresay you know him by sight as well as he knows you. Jack, this is -my father.” - -He looked at her and then at him. His mouth was very tightly closed. -He stood quite a yard away from them and ignored Jack’s very cordial -salutation. - -“You must forgive these light-headed young people, Mr. Wadhurst,” said -Mrs. Wingfield the elder. “But it was really very naughty of them to -take the law into their own hands and get married by a registrar instead -of going properly to the church.” - -“Married!” said the churchwarden. “Married within three months of the -death of her husband! You did well to do it in that hole-and-corner way; -for you knew me too well to hope that I would give my consent.” - -“That’s quite true,” said she. “But I told you long ago that I had made -up my mind that a woman’s marriage is her own affair, not her father’s. -I had one experience of the union that receives the blessing of the -father and the blessing of the Church.” - -He looked at her. His mouth was tightly shut once again. - -“Look here, Mr. Wadhurst,” cried Jack. “We’re just going in to lunch. -If you didn’t give your consent to our marriage, you have still time to -give us your blessing. Hurry up. The lobsters in the dining-room will be -becoming anxious.” - -He still kept his eyes fixed upon his daughter. He did not seem to hear -Jack speaking. But the moment that Jack had said his last word, Mr. -Wadhurst glanced at him, and then, turning round, walked straight across -the lawn. - -They watched him in silence until he became occulted by the pavilion. - -“The lobsters will be getting impatient,” said Jack, helping his mother -to her feet. - - - - -CHAPTER XXII - -Another delightful week elapsed, with yacht cruises and adventures by -flood and field, and then Priscilla, never giving herself up with such -complete abandonment to the intoxication of the first month of marriage -as to be incapable of observing the changes of time and temper and -temperature--the variations in the pulse of that little spiritual animal -known by the pet name of Love, began to perceive that Jack was thinking -about home; and that meant that she had been wholly successful in her -treatment of that happiness of his which demanded the wisest nursing, -with a mental chart of its variations from day to day. Women who are -wise adopt the modern system of therapeutics, and devote all their -thought to the nursing of that happiness which has been entrusted to -their care when it is still in its cradle, and do not trouble about -the Pharmacopoeia. It had been her aim to lead him to think about his -home--their home--as that was where she meant him to spend most of his -time; and the wife who can keep her husband’s attention most closely -directed to home is the wisest as well as the happiest. The accountants -who were going over the books of the estate, kept in a culpably slovenly -way by Mr. Dunning, were, he was informed, approaching the end of -their labours; and the new agent, who had been found with really only a -reasonable amount of difficulty, was by the side of the accountants and -the stewards and the bailiffs, mastering the details of the old system, -which had been far from systematic, and, as Jack and Priscilla could see -by his letters, instituting a new _regime_ on a proper basis. - -This was satisfactory; but Priscilla could see that the establishment of -routine did not greatly interest her husband. He was imaginative, though -no one but herself had suspected it, and she meant that he should -have something to appeal to his imagination. Even before they had been -married she had seen some splendid possibilities in connection with the -trout stream that flowed through the glen, though at that time she had -not so much as hinted at them; but now she felt that she could do -so with good effect if the opportunity should arise; and when an -imaginative young woman is on the look-out for an opportunity, the -opportunity invariably presents itself. A letter from Mrs. Wingfield -mentioned the services of a new footman who had succeeded in putting -out a fire--the result of a lamp accident in the still-room and a -housemaid’s carelessness. Owing to the exertions of the man and the -training which he had received at his last place, the fire had done very -little injury; but if it had not been dealt with in time the Manor House -would certainly have been done for, said the letter. - -“Confound those lamps! That’s the third fire within two years, and all -through those antiquated abominations,” cried Jack. - -“Sell them for scrap metal, and trust to electric light,” said Priscilla -in a second. - -“Who is to pay for a cable from Gallingham--nine miles?” he enquired. - -“No one, my dear. There is no need to go so far or to spend so much -money, when you have that lovely cascade going to waste in Primrose -Dell.” - -“What has the cascade to do with it, my girl? I wasn’t talking about a -fire engine; though with these lamps----” - -“With some elementary engineering and a simple dynamo you can make an -electric installation for the house, and stables, and yard, and farm, -and gardens, that will cost you little more than the wages of one -man--say, twenty-five shillings a week.” - -“Make it thirty.” - -“Well, thirty. Mind you, you will be able to put stoves in all the -bedrooms, and you will be able to run machinery for pumping water, for -cleaning harness, for churning, for brushing your hair, if you wish for -it.” - -“I don’t wish for it for brushing my hair, but I do for everything else. -Is this a dream of yours, my girl, or have you been reading a pictorial -advertisement?” - -“I went into the question two years ago, hoping that we might be able to -introduce electric power on the farm; but unhappily we have no stream of -water to work the dynamo and it would not pay to use coal; we might as -well use the coal energy direct. I went so far into the matter as to -visit a place where a private installation had been made, and my eyes -were opened.” - -He gazed at her admiringly in silence for some time. Then he cried: - -“Great Gloriana! You are a bit of a wonder, Priscilla! You carry me off -my feet; and the worst of it is that I feel I must do everything that -you suggest. If I try to look the other way I see something that sends -me back to you. I’m like the master mariner whose adventures worried us -at school--in trying to avoid what’s its name, he fell on the other--you -know.” - -“Scylla and Charybdis?” - -“That’s it--Scylla--in my case, Priscilla and Charybdis. Priscilla and -Charybdis--that’s how I am. But by the living shrimp, you’re a wonder! -Where can I get any books that will go into the business? I suppose -the dynamo people are those to apply to in the first place. But I know -nothing worth talking about of electricity.” - -“What is there to know about such a simple adaptation of it as is -necessary for our purpose? I assure you that the sparking of your motor -is a thousand times more complicated, and you know all about that. Long -ago people thought that to be an electrical engineer enough to light -up a house required years of training, and people’s sons were to become -electrical engineers instead of being doctors or lawyers; but now they -are only something between plumbers and gasfitters. Isn’t that so?” - -“By the living shrimp! we’ll have the whole place in a blaze before the -winter,” She lay back and laughed at his enthusiasm and the unfortunate -way in which it led him to prophesy. - -“I hope it will not be quite so bad as that,” she said. For the next -three or four days he could talk of little else than the electrification -of the Manor. She explained to him the way in which the course of the -stream could be diverted at a trifling cost and at the sacrifice of none -of the picturesqueness of the place of primroses. - -“I would not have a primrose interfered with,” she cried. “The Primrose -Dell is a sacred place.” - -“I will take steps to have it incorporated on our coat of arms,” - he said. “And I will see that it has a special motto to itself. Yes -‘Priscilla and Charybdis.’ Oh! we mustn’t spoil the primroses. If it -hadn’t been for them where should I be to-day? What should I be to-day?” - And then some of the books arrived, and with his usual aptitude for -picking up new ideas, he mastered all the essentials to the schemes -which Priscilla had initiated. - -But before he had quite made up his mind as to the most suitable part of -the stream to touch, something occurred which interfered materially with -the development of his plans; for one morning he got a telegram signed -“Franklin Forrester,” enquiring if he could be seen at 2.30 that day. -“Very important.” - -“What the mischief!” he exclaimed. “How does he know that I’m here? What -can Franky Forrester want with me that’s very important?” - -“Who is Franky Forrester?” asked Priscilla. - -“Oh! Franky Forrester was one of the chaps who just escaped being sent -down at Oxford when I enjoyed that distinction,” he replied. “Franky was -a little too sharp for the powers. He had a genius for organizing; and -that’s how he got through. He could organize a row with any man, but it -was invariably part of his organization that he should be outside -the row when it was going on. He has made his way in the world by the -exercise of his genius. I saw him in London a few months ago. He is -still organizing things--politics, I believe he said, What can he want -with me?” - -“Money,” suggested Priscilla. “I have heard that funds are the soul of -politics, if principles are the body.” - -“He’ll get no money out of me,” said Jack. “But somehow I don’t think -that it’s money he wants. I suppose I had better see him. He is a nice -chap and well connected. He never loses sight of a man that’s well off -or that’s likely to be well off.” - -“That’s the art of organization in a nutshell,” said she. “I suppose it -is,” he said. “Anyhow, the phrase is a good one. There are a lot of -good phrases knocking about; it’s a pity that so many of them are in -nutshells--some of them are hard to crack. Franky was great at phrases. -You always needed to carry a pair of nutcrackers in your pocket when he -was in the offing. I wonder how he heard that I was here.” - -“I suppose you will see him, Jack. He says ‘very important.’” - -“Yes; but he doesn’t say whether it’s important to me or to himself. Oh, -yes, I suppose I must see him.” Although Priscilla did not think that -he had reached that period of honeymoon delight when a man is ready to -welcome the arrival of a friend, or even an enemy, she was still pleased -that a new element was entering into their communion. She had a strange -longing to be presented to some of his friends, and to hear him say: - -“I want to introduce you to my wife, old chap. She’s dying to know you.” - -And she was gratified shortly after lunch that day; for those were the -very words he employed when making her known to Mr. Franklin Forrester. - -She saw by the expression of the visitor’s face when he looked at her -that he was both surprised and pleased. - -“He is appraising my value as a possible asset to a political party,” - she said to herself; and that was precisely what Mr. Forrester was -doing. - -He was a well-made and rather good-looking man, with a Vandyck beard, -inclined to fairness. He had a moderate supply of hair on the front of -his head and he made praiseworthy, and on the whole successful, attempts -to conceal the fact that it was becoming rather thin on the top. His -eyes would possibly have been accounted good had he ever given anyone a -chance to see them long enough to form an opinion upon them. As it was, -most people saw them only long enough to see that they were restless. -Still, Jack’s wife had managed to interpret the general expression of -his face pretty accurately. - -“And now maybe you’ll tell me how you got my address here,” said Jack, -when they had said a few words about Sandycliffe and how it was -being developed. Mr. Forrester knew who was most interested in its -development, and how the hotel shares had been worked off. - -“I sent a wire to Elliot--you know Compton Elliot--at Framsby to find -out if you were at home. I believe that it was from Mrs. Wingfield, your -mother, that he got your present location. Useful man, Compton Elliot,” - said Mr. Forrester. - -“Yes, infernally useful,” assented Jack. - -“My dear Wingfield, you may be sure that I would not have thrust myself -upon you at this--this--this interesting time if I could have avoided -it,” cried the visitor. “At the same time, I must honestly confess that -I’m rather glad to find you so circumstanced----” - -“Gloriana! What a word--‘circumstanced’!” murmured Jack. - -“Well, I mean that I’m pleased to be able to make an appeal to you in -the presence of some one who will, I am sure, advise you to listen to -me, and not condemn me without thinking the whole matter over.” - -“Isn’t he artful?” said Jack. “He has just killed a political opponent -and he is about to appeal to my better nature not to give him away. He -knows that women are invariably on the side of the criminal. Go on, F. -F.” - -“Mrs. Wingfield, I ask you if this isn’t ungenerous on the part of your -husband. Here I have come down from the intoxicating pleasure of the -London season solely to ask this man to become a member of Parliament, -and this is how he receives my proposition.” - -Mr. Franklin Forrester had very rarely to be so straightforward as -he was in this speech. As a matter of fact, his resources in this -particular direction were so limited that he found it absolutely -necessary to economise them; and the general opinion that prevailed -among his political opponents was that he was very successful in his -exercise of this form of thrift. But his excuse to himself for having -resorted to an unaccustomed figure of speech was that this was an -exceptional case that demanded exceptional treatment. - -He had been straightforward almost to a point of abruptness, and he -perceived that the end had justified the means: Jack Wingfield was -voiceless and gasping, and Mrs. Wingfield was silent and flushing. - -He saw what manner of woman she was--yes, up to a certain point. He saw -that she was far more appreciative of a compliment paid to her husband -than her husband was; and he also saw that she was more anxious for her -husband’s advancement than her husband was. - -He had rendered them speechless; and he knew that that was the -prehistoric method of woman-capture; and that up to the present a more -effective method has not been devised by the wit of man. Stun them, and -there you are. - -He felt that he had captured Mrs. Wingfield. She had flushed with -surprise and delight. He had heard all about her from his useful friend, -Compton Elliot, of Framsby. She was a farmer’s daughter, and having -played her cards well, she had married a man with a fine property and -not too rigid a backbone. She was sure to be ambitious to achieve a -further step--one that should carry her away from the associations of -the farm into the centre of London society--for the greater part of the -year. - -That was what Mr. Franklin Forrester’s analysis of the situation -amounted to. It was not quite accurate; but there was something in it. - -He had not expected the farmer’s daughter of Compton Elliot’s -confidential report to have so pleasing a personality. He had rather -visions of a stoutish young woman with an opulent bust and dark eyes, -combined with a knowledge of how to use them. But the difference between -his ideal and the real lady did not cause him to change the plan of -attack which he had arranged for her capture. - -“Now the murder’s out,” he said, looking not at Jack, but at Jack’s -wife. “We want a good man who will make a good fight for Nuttingford, -and we believe that we can hold the seat.” - -“Then why the mischief didn’t you go to a good man?” enquired Jack. - -Mr. Forrester smiled. He did not tell him that he had already approached -two very good men; and that, being shrewd as well as good--politically -good, which represents a condition that is possibly not quite the same -as ethically good--they had shaken their heads and told him to go on to -the next street. - -No. Mr. Franklin Forrester regarded those communications as strictly -confidential; he did not think it necessary to allude to them. - -“I have come to the right man, if I know anything of the Nuttingford -division,” was what he did say; “and I think I know something of the -Nuttingford division,” he added. - -“I don’t doubt it; but you don’t know quite so much about the man you’ve -come to, or you wouldn’t have come,” suggested Jack. Then he glanced at -his wife, and Mr. Forrester noted that glance with great interest. - -“It’s because I know you, my friend, better than you know yourself--I -won’t say better than Mrs. Wingfield knows you--that I have come to -you,” said the politician. “You are the sort of man that we want--that -the country wants.” - -“Oh, I say, why drag in the poor old country by the hair of the head? -It’s almost indecent,” remonstrated Jack, and once again he glanced at -his wife. She smiled back at him, but spoke not a word. She was a wise -woman. A wise woman is one who has a great deal to say and remains -silent. - -“You are the man that’s wanted at this time,” resumed Forrester. “By the -way, what are your politics?” - -“What politics do you want?” asked Jack. “I fancy that if I were to -stand I could accommodate you; but I shan’t.” - -“You’re the man for us. Most of us inherit our politics with the family -Bible and our grandfather’s clock, and we rarely change them, unless, -like our young Zimri--the unsuccessful Zimri--we are at the tail end of -a Parliament, and are certain that there will be a change of government -in the next--a change of government has usually meant a change of -politics with the family of our aspiring Zimri. His father was the -successful Zimri, but he didn’t have peace; and the founder of the -family elevated Zimriism to a fine art--he didn’t have peace either--on -the contrary, he had a wife. All things are possible with such men; but -I don’t care what your politics are; we’ll put you in for Nuttingford, -if you’ll agree to stand.” - -“This is rot, Forrester, and you know it. What good shall I be in your -House of Commons? What good shall I be to your blessed Party anyway?” - -Mr. Forrester could quite easily have answered this question, had it -been prudent to do so. He could have told him that he was wanted by the -Party because there was a difficulty with two men, each of whom believed -that he had a right to the reversion of the seat, and would certainly -contest it in view of the other coming forward. In such a case the seat -would undoubtedly be seized by the solitary representative of the Other -Party. But Mr. Forrester perceived that such an explanation would occupy -a good deal of valuable time; and he wished to spare his friend and his -friend’s charming wife an acquaintance with details which possibly a -man, and certainly a woman, looking into the arena of politics from a -private box, might regard as sordid. So he merely laid his hand on his -friend’s knee, and said: - -“Leave that to us, my dear Wingfield. You may be sure that we would not -take you up unless we saw that you could do something for us that would -pay us for our trouble. Now, don’t you decide against us in a hurry. -Talk the matter over with Mrs. Wingfield. I wouldn’t give much for a man -who didn’t take his wife into his confidence on such important things.” - -“And how much would you give for a man who did, and then decided by her -advice against you?” asked Jack. - -“The constituency is a peculiar one,” said Forrester, ignoring the -question. “They hate politics. If we were to send them a well-known -politician he would have no chance with them. What they want is a -man like yourself--a simple ordinary, everyday, good-wearing English -gentleman--plain commonsense--that’s what they want; nothing very -definite in the way of a programme; they don’t want a windbag or a -gasometer; they’re not going in for air ships at Nuttingford. You know -what Cotton is?” - -“Cotton? Who the mischief is Cotton that I should know of him?” - -“That’s the best proof of the accuracy of what I’ve been telling you. -Cotton is the man who has sat for the constituency for the past fifteen -years, and yet nobody has heard of him.” - -“And why shouldn’t he continue in the obscurity of the House of Commons -for another fifteen years? Nobody wants him outside, I suppose.” - -“He has been ordered off by his doctor, and he is applying for the -Chiltern Hundreds at once. He will mention your name in his valedictory -address, and we’ll do the rest--that is, of course--you know what I -mean?” - -“Blest if I do, quite!” - -“Oh, I mean that having provided them with the right man for them--the -man they want--we’ll see that they are loyal to you.” - -‘“Wingfield and the Old Cause’--that’ll be the war cry, I suppose. -You’ll have to coach me on the old cause--only there’ll be no need, for -I haven’t the remotest idea of standing. I’m going in for a big electric -scheme, Forrester, and I’ll have no time for politics.” - -“I refuse to take your answer now. I should be doing you a grave -injustice. I didn’t except you to jump at my offer before it was well -out of my lips. Heavens, man! a seat in the House of Commons----” - -“Mother of Parliaments, and the rest.” - -“You needn’t sneer. I tell you it’s a position that carries weight with -it. I don’t wonder that it’s so coveted. Men spend thousands of pounds -trying to reach it--thousands of pounds and years of their life.” - -“I’m not one of them, Forrester. Don’t look angrily at me because other -men make such fools of themselves.” - -“I won’t, Wingfield, because I know that you won’t make a fool of -yourself by refusing this offer. But I have said my last word of -encouragement. After all, you know best what will suit you. It would -be an impertinence on my part to suggest that you are not competent -to decide for yourself. Don’t be in a hurry. Now, what about this -electrical scheme?” - - - - -CHAPTER XXIII - -Not one word had Priscilla uttered while that artful Mr. Forrester was -talking to her husband, and, incidentally, giving her many opportunities -for expressing her views either in accordance with or in divergence from -those he expounded so fluently. Her silence surprised their visitor. -He thought his friend Jack Wingfield an extremely lucky chap to have -married a wife who knew when to be silent and was very generous in her -time limit on this point. - -He was all the more amazed when he found that she was quite capable of -expressing herself on such subjects as the future of electricity and the -novels of Anatole France, with originality and distinction. A farmer’s -daughter, was she? Well, all that he could say was that agriculture, -which was laid on mankind as part of a Bible Curse scheme, and which has -been the subject of a pretty fair amount of reprobation within recent -years, deserved a good word if this young woman had come into the world -under its auspices. - -But he took a leaf out of her book--one of the blank pages--one that had -no word upon it--and went away, without another reference to the subject -of his mission to the developing seaside resort. - -When he had gone, Jack suggested a stroll along the beach, and she -picked up her hat in a moment Among her most artful perfections was her -readiness to move at a moment’s notice. She was at all times prepared -for everything. She never kept her husband waiting while she went to her -room for a hat or coat. - -Of course he began to talk immediately of the possibility of -Sandycliffe’s becoming developed out of all recognition of its charm. It -was jolly rum, he thought, how places like that come and go. One year a -place was the solitary right one to go to, and the next it was among the -places that should never be so much as visited by anyone who wished to -be thought anything; and such people were becoming more numerous every -day. - -She agreed with him. She wondered if there were any people in the right -set who decreed which watering-places on the coast should be visited, -and which left alone, just as the best set in Framsby decreed in regard -to persons. - -This was very interesting, of course, but she knew that he had not asked -her to walk with him solely to discuss the vicissitudes of coasts towns. -Still, they had gone on for quite half a mile before they had exhausted -the topic, and seated themselves on one of the new chairs on the end of -the concrete path. Even then he did not speak about Mr. Forrester and -his mission for some time. At last he said casually: - -“What brought that chap down to me to-day, do you fancy?” - -“He came to you because he knows that you are the sort of member that -the Nuttingford people want,” she replied with the utmost promptitude. - -“Bless my heart and soul! Why should they be such fools? You mustn’t -believe all that old F. F. tells you, my girl.” - -“All? I don’t think that he could induce me to believe a quarter of what -he says,” she replied. “But I’m positive that he believes you would -have a better chance of being elected than anyone who is likely to come -forward. What I felt from the first moment that he broached the subject -was that he and his Party are somehow in a tight place in regard to the -Nuttingford division. It occurred to me that someone whom they expected -to come forward had thrown them over, and for some reason or other he -thought that he might fall back on you. I wouldn’t go as far as to say -that he expects you to win, but he expects you to make a good show for -the Party on the day of the election; and so you will, Jack, only you’ll -be at the head of the poll.” He jumped up from the seat as if he had -been stung by a wasp. - -“What do you mean?” he cried after a long pause, which he utilized in -collecting himself. “Do you mean to think for a moment that I would -make such a fool of myself as to go among strange people for the sake of -getting a licking at a cost of a thousand pounds or so?” - -“My dearest boy, I want you to go in for this business if only for the -sake of showing that clever, far-seeing man that you’re not quite such a -fool as he fancies.” - -“The best way I could do that would be by laughing at him as I did.” - -“There’s a better way still: take him at his word--a little better than -his word--and amaze him by getting returned. He doesn’t believe that you -could get returned for the division, but he thinks, as I said, that you -will make a good fight for it. Now you must pull yourself together -and fight every ounce there’s in you. Jack, you _must_ do it, out of -compliment to me.” - -“Look here, my girl, you are making a man of me--I know that. Didn’t -I call you my guardian--my good angel--once upon a time? Well, so you -are--so you showed yourself to be; but are you not going ahead with me a -little too fast?” - -She rose from the seat and put her arm within one of his arms. - -“Let us stroll on a little farther,” she said. - -“I don’t like it,” he said. “Just beyond that iron railing there is the -cliff and some horrid rocks below. If we walk on through that railing we -shall come a cropper among the rocks. See?” - -“I see your very apt allegory. Jack, if you don’t want me to urge you to -go in heart and soul for this business, you made a grave error in that -last remark of yours. Jack, the man who could turn the topographical -condition of a place into a forcible argument and a picturesque one into -the bargain, is the man to convince a constituency that they badly want -him to represent them in Parliament.” - -“You’re hustling me, Priscilla. I repeat that you’re hustling me, and -I’m beginning to be mortally afraid of you.” - -“You needn’t be afraid of me. I’m not so stupid as to want to hustle -you. I’m not such an idiot as to start life with you by trying on a -system of nagging. In my eyes you’ll always be the man with the _bâton_, -and I’ll always be ready to play any tune that you beat time to. If I -urge you all that I can to do something, and you refuse to do it, don’t -fancy for a moment that I’ll dissolve in tears or get a hump or say, -‘You wouldn’t take my advice,’ when you come to grief through having -your own way. I promise you that I’ll do none of these things. You’re -the man and I’m your helpmeet. Heaven forbid that I should ever try to -make my opinions take the place of yours; but heaven forbid also, that, -having opinions, I should keep them to myself.” - -“Amen to that, say I.” - -“All that I can do is to lay them at your feet, Jack, and--no, that’s -too humble altogether: I won’t lay them at your feet, I’ll try to make -them look their best in front of you, and if you like them you can adopt -them as your own. That’s all that I can do. You’ll find that I know my -place, dear.” - -“I see that you do; you know it a deal better than you know mine, if you -fancy that my place is on a leather bench in the House of Commons.” - -“Maybe you’re right, Jack; but what an experience to one is an election -campaign! I’ve been longing all my life to be so placed that I should be -able to go through an election fight--not a hollow thing, mind you, but -a splendid tingling close fight. That’s the thing that develops whatever -character one may have--whatever strength one may have within one. The -only way by which a man can be made a man of is by a fight.” - -He looked at her and laughed. - -“And you’re determined to make a man of me, are you?” he said; “by a -fight--an election fight? Well, that’s all very fine; but supposing I -should win, where would we be then?” - -“In the House of Commons, ready to carry the fight into the enemy’s -country; and that’s where you’ll be as sure as you take off your -coat--and you _will_ take off your coat, Jack.” - -“And my waistcoat, if necessary. And what am I to fight for? I’ve no -definite opinions about anything in politics.” - -“You begin by defining your opinions, and you’ll very soon find out how -definite they are. But don’t you bother about opinions; the fight’s the -thing that matters. Any excuse for a fight is valid.” - -“You have a drop of Irish blood in you somewhere, my girl. Upon my word -you have almost persuaded me to say ‘Agreed’ to Forrester’s proposal. -But mind you, if I get in I’ll blame you. Let there be no mistake about -that.” - -She took a hasty glance around. She saw the strategical conditions of -their surroundings. She thought that when they should get a step or two -beyond the little peninsula of sea wall, she could do it.... And she -did. She had an arm about his neck in a moment, and he felt delightfully -near strangulation. He could not cry out for help, because there were -two middle-aged ladies with books and a clergyman with _The Guardian_ on -the seat in the hollow of the cliff. - -“You are a perfect darling!” she cried. “You are doing this thing just -to please me, because you know I have set my heart on it--and I _have_ -set my heart on it, Jack, dear. I admit that I am ambitious, Jack, but -only for you, dear--only because I know what there is in you, and I -want it brought out. I want people to accept you at your true worth. My -ambition is bounded by you.” - -He did not say anything in response to this confession. But he pressed -her arm very close to him, and so they walked on in silence, until he -said: - -“My girl, my girl, shall I tell you what I feel just now? I feel that -I should like to do something to justify your belief in me. Until you -began to talk to me I used to be inclined to grin at those old chaps who -used to bump about in armour--Lord! the noise they made must have -been like a tinker’s horse running away with a cartload of tin -kettles--looking out for doughty deeds to do so that they might appear -big Indians in the eyes of their ladies fair. They spelt--such of them -as could spell, and there weren’t a lot--‘lady’ with an e at the end. I -say I used to laugh at them and think them howling bounders; but by the -Lord Henrietta! since I came to know you I’ve had just the same feeling. -I tell you that I should dearly like to do something big, so that you -might be able to say, ‘He did it, and he’s my husband, and it was I -taught him how.’” - -“And you will do it--I have no fear for you, Jack. You will show people -what you can do, and I shall feel--I may boast of it, too--that I have -had an influence for good upon you, not for evil.” - -“If anybody wants to hear further of what that influence has been to me, -send them along, and I’ll tell them. My dear girl, you’ve now set me a -job of work to do, and if you stand by me I’ll do it.” - -“I’ll stand by you, Jack; I’ve no interest in life except to stand by -you. If I wasn’t quite sure that you’ll be a success in the fight to get -into Parliament, and a still bigger success when you get in, I shouldn’t -say a word to urge you on to this job. But I know enough of you to -be sure that there’s no one in the House of Commons who has a greater -capacity than you for grasping the practical side of things, and seeing -the rights and the wrongs in every question. Of course you may say that -I don’t know all the members of the House of Commons and that I don’t -know so much about you, if it comes to that.” - -“Well, I admit that something like that did occur to me.” - -“I daresay it did. But don’t you think that I’m going to retract -anything that I said on that account. I’m not. I’ve read the newspapers -like a student for the past four years, and I’ve read you like--like -a lover for the past two months. These respective times are quite long -enough to enable me to pronounce the definite judgment that I did in -making my comparison. Oh, Jack, I can see quite well that people won’t -have oratory at any price, in these days. What they want is men like -you, who will say in common language--colloquial language--what they -think. After all, the great thing is the thinking and the doing; the -talking is quite a secondary consideration. Goodness! Here have I -been making a long speech to prove to you that there’s no use for -speech-makers nowadays.” - -“You have spoken good sense and to the point, my girl, and that’s more -than can be said of the majority of orators. Well, I’ve taken on a big -contract, and you’ve promised to see me through with it. All that we’ve -got to do now is to search for principles to take the place of politics. -Have you any outline in your mind at present?” - -“Not even the most shadowy.” - -“That’s satisfactory. We don’t start on this campaign with any foolish -prejudices in favour of one thing or another. We can be all things to -all men in the Nuttingford division of Nethershire.” - -“And to all women--don’t forget the women. I look to them to make a -strong muster on our side.” - -“Whatever our side may be.” - - - - -CHAPTER XXIV - -It was in this happy spirit that they approached Mr. Franklin Forrester -the next day, Jack having had a chat with him through the telephone. - -Mr. Forrester was delighted--at his own sagacity in playing his hand -so as to win Mrs. Wingfield to his side. He took care to make his -principals aware of his sagacity in this particular, and they also were -delighted. They smiled, of course, at the suggestion that the seat might -be taken by his friend Wingfield, but he would come forward and contest -it in their interest, and that was something. People, especially those -of the opposition, must not get it into their heads that The Party could -not put a man into the field to oppose Lawford, who would, of course, -win the seat, but not so easily as he expected--not so easily as to -reflect seriously upon the resources of The Party who were running -Wingfield. - -That was the way the leaders of the organization to which Forrester -belonged looked at the candidature of Wingfield. And the way Forrester -himself looked at it was that the fact of his being able to bring -Wingfield up to the scratch--that was his metaphor in referring to his -success--would raise him to the extent of another rung in the political -ladder which he had set himself to climb some years before, and up which -he had already made a creditable ascent. - -One thing he saw clearly, and that was that his candidate’s having -married the daughter of a farmer--not a gentleman farmer nor an amateur -farmer, but a farmer, and a farmer, too, who was well known to make his -business pay--was a distinct point in his favour. It would assuredly be -accounted to him for righteousness by a constituency like Nuttingford, -which was so largely agricultural. - -He mentioned this to Jack, who, he found, was fully alive to the -importance of making every legitimate use of this claim upon the -electorate. So far as he could make out, it was the solitary claim -which he had to their attention, and this made him value it all the -more highly. He delighted Mr. Forrester by the ease with which he showed -himself ready to adapt himself to circumstances and circumstances to his -candidature. Most high class men, Mr. Forrester’s experience had shown -him, had been at first inclined to take a very high tone on approaching -a constituency, striking the attitude of a patriot or a philanthropist -and assuring him that if they could not be returned solely on their own -merits without such adventitious aids as family interests or business -interests or the interest which attaches to an interesting wife, they -would much prefer not to be returned at all. Such high-toned men very -soon got such nonsense knocked out of them. One of them, who was the -father of two little girls with lovely eyes, had the mortification -of seeing his antagonist romp in ahead of him solely because he had -appeared every morning on the balcony of the hotel carrying on his -shoulder a flaxen-curled little boy in a Little Lord Fauntleroy suit, -though he had only borrowed the child for the election. - -“What did the crowds outside the hotel care whether the boy was his or -not?” cried Mr. Forrester. “They gave him their votes; and there was -the other man thrown out, though he might have played off his two lovely -little girls against the borrowed brat with every chance of success. Oh, -children are simply thrown away upon superior men like that!” - -But Wingfield showed himself superior to such ridiculous affectations of -superiority and high-tonedness. He knew enough about practical politics -to be aware of the affinity of the cult to the pastry industry of the -roadside. To attain success in the making of mud pies one must not be -over-careful of one’s hands. There is no making mud pies without mud, -and there is no dabbling in politics if you mean to devote your best -energies to the culture of lilies--not the speckled variety nor even the -golden, but the pure saint of flowerland, the snow-white sort. - -Of this fact Jack Wingfield was well aware, so he did not -resent--certainly not openly--Mr. Forrester’s advice: “You must run your -wife’s connection with farming for all that it’s worth.” - -“And it’s worth a good deal,” assented the candidate. “Yes, we’ll rub it -in, never fear.” - -And Priscilla also showed herself to be quite alive to the value of this -connection. - -“I’ll give a practical lesson daily on ‘How to make farming pay,’” she -cried. “I’ll take care that he has not a monopoly of the farm in his -speeches.” - -“Oh! those speeches are what I dread,” groaned Jack. “Psha! you’ve no -idea how simple this part of it is,” said Mr. Forrester. “All you’ve got -to do is to get well grounded on about half a dozen topics and speak all -you know of all of them at every meeting. Don’t on any account commit -anything to memory, for so long as you don’t make use of the same words -no one will recognize any sameness or repetition in what you say. I’ll -take care that you have a proper number of repartees made out for you -upon every occasion. These will be typewritten on slips of paper, -and placed in order on the table in front of you, so that when the -conscientious objectors, for whom we will arrange, ask you their -questions from the body of the hall or the gallery, you will have -nothing to do but glance at the repartee before you and repeat it with -whatever inflection you may think necessary. Only you mustn’t forget -to turn down each repartee when you have delivered it, or you’ll find -yourself at sea.” - -“I can easily believe that,” said the candidate. - -“And then we shall have to arrange for an effective interruption now and -again. But your appeal for the man to be allowed to remain and your joke -on the matter will also be typewritten in front of you. Some men prefer -to commit the joke to memory, but it’s never safe to do this. Oh, you’ll -have no trouble when once you get into the stride of the thing.” - -“I’ll do my best to accommodate my faltering steps to its majestic -swing,” said Jack. “This is a nice business I’m learning, Priscilla,” he -added, turning to his wife. - -“It’s the most interesting game ever invented--so much is clear to me,” - said she. “It’s the game of musical chairs on a heroic scale. You face -the music, and the moment it stops you make a struggle for a seat, and -if you don’t mind a little rough-and-tumble business you’ll get your -seat, Jack--I see that clearly.” - -This coaching took place during the first day or two after Jack’s -announcement of his decision. And then he went off with Priscilla to the -town of Nuttingford to make the acquaintance of the local organization -of The Party, and to be grounded on all local questions, so that the -soundness of his views on these points might never be open to suspicion. -Then at the right moment the member for the division, Sir Christopher -Cotton, applied for the appointment of Steward and Bailiff of the Three -Hundreds of Chiltern, and this being an office of emolument, his -seat automatically became vacant, but he did not offer himself for -re-election. - -His valedictory address appeared in all the papers, and it contained a -very handsome recognition of the abilities of the gentleman who had, -he said, come forward at considerable personal sacrifice to solicit the -suffrages of his friends in his place. He could not doubt, he added, -that the electorate would view with a friendly eye the candidature -of Mr. John Wingfield, who, though not personally connected with the -division, had many interests in common with the electors and was sound -on all matters of Imperial bearing. - -Beneath this graceful tribute to the worth of a gentleman of whom he -knew absolutely nothing, appeared the address of that gentleman himself. -It was of the simple, straightforward, manly type--and its burden was -the shameful way in which the agricultural industry--the most important -industry in the country--had been neglected not by one Government only, -but by all. He frankly admitted that the one aim of his life was the -placing of agriculture on a sound basis, and whether he was returned to -Parliament or not, his opinion would remain unaltered, that prosperity -to the country meant prosperity to the agricultural interests of the -country. At that point in the address the candidate’s frankness became -even more apparent. - -“I am prepared to hear it alleged,” his address went on, “that my -views on this matter are not wholly disinterested, that in fact my -own interests are largely bound up with the agricultural industry. -Gentlemen, I own that it would be futile for me to make an attempt -to deny this accusation. My own interests are identical with those of -agriculture. It is for you to say if this fact disqualifies me from -being regarded as a fitting representative of such a constituency as -yours.” - -Now, considering that Jack Wingfield and Priscilla his wife had -composed this address without the least aid from Franklin Forrester, the -encomiums which it received from that critic were accepted by them with -pride--of a certain sort. But when it is known that Jack, after reading -over the address in the newspaper out loud, appealed to Priscilla to say -if it contained a single false statement, and that she replied that it -really did not contain a paragraph that was absolutely untrue, it may -be gathered that their pride in its composition was tempered by some -misgivings. When two people find it necessary to assure each other from -time to time of the purity of their motives, one may perhaps go so far -as to assume that neither of them is absolutely convinced on this point. -It is understood that during an election certain ethical indulgence is -allowed to the candidates and their immediate supporters, just as, at -certain times of fasting, the representatives of the most rigid form of -Church government grant exemption to some persons from obedience to the -strict letter of the law, and just as ingenious Jews have in all ages -contrived to effect a compromise with their conscience in the acceptance -of the Mosaic injunctions in regard to the observance of the Sabbath -(though the Jew has always paid in something on account, so to speak). -But whether or not such an explanation of the ethics of the easy-going -may be considered satisfactory by the Judge Flynns--the “high-toneder” - people of the world, Jack Wingfield and Priscilla his wife soon found -themselves too busy to subject themselves to any tests of the searching -character of those that Farmer Wadhurst’s daughter had instituted in his -dairy. The use of a spiritual lactometer would be extremely inconvenient -during a contested election, and the contest at Nuttingford promised to -be an unusually brisk one. - -They both plunged into it. They had got the start of the other -candidate--a solicitor by profession, who had made a former appeal to -the same constituency--and they meant to keep ahead of him. - -From the first it was seen that the sagacity of Mr. Forrester had not -misled him when he had suggested that Mrs. Wingfield’s presence would -tell largely in favour of the candidate of The Party. Priscilla stood by -her husband at all times; but she refused to say to anyone: - -“I want you to give your vote to my husband.” - -“It’s entirely a matter between yourselves and him,” she would say with -a smile and a wave of her hand. “If you think him the man for you, as -I know him to be the man for me, you can’t do better than send him into -Parliament as your representative; but if you don’t, well, there’s no -harm done--I’ll have the more of him to myself.” - -Moreover, she never made a suggestion to him as to what the character -of any of his speeches should be. It was only when he talked over some -question with her and asked her advice that she put forward an opinion. - -She saw as clearly as did Mr. Forrester that Jack’s form of oratory was -the sort that must tell at an election meeting. It was not classical; -it was far better: it was colloquial. He told stories by the score, and -everyone of them bearing upon his own experience in many countries--just -the sort of stories that people like--about lions and tigers and killing -things--about niggers (with a sly word or two about the scantiness of -their attire)--about a cricket match in the South Seas which had lasted -three weeks with a hundred and twenty on each side, and a free fight at -the close--about a football match in Africa, where the football was a -cocoanut in its original husk, and how they kicked it to pieces with, -their bare feet, and how the referee was treated almost as badly as he -is upon occasions in the Midlands. “But the great pull that those chaps -have over us is of course that a black eye is never noticed.” This -commentary was received with laughter and cheers; and under the cover of -this demonstration Priscilla scribbled a few words on a piece of paper, -and pushed it before him. When the yells had passed away, he resumed: - -“I suppose you think that that about the black eyes has nothing to do -with us at this election. Well, you’re wrong. I was about to say when -you interrupted me--there really was nothing to laugh at. Do you think a -black eye is something to laugh at? (Great laughter.) Well, you’re wrong -again! (More laughter.) I should know, for I’ve had many a one myself. -(Renewed laughter.) In fact, at one time of my life I had so many black -eyes that my friends used to call me not blackeyed Susan, but black-eyed -Jack. (Great laughter.) My mother said, ‘This can’t be my own beautiful -boy, for my son had lovely dreamy blue eyes, and this boy’s are--’ -(The remainder of the sentence was inaudible owing to the laughter and -cheers.) But to come to the point. I was about to say that my opponent’s -disclaimer with regard to the labourers’ cottages resembled that -nigger’s black eyes. He declares that the opinions which I said were -his were not his opinions at all. Ladies and gentlemen, if you had asked -that nigger if he had a pair of black eyes he would have denied it. -My opponent holds those opinions without knowing it, and we accept his -disclaimer, feeling sure that he made it in good faith--as good faith -as the nigger’s who denied his lovely black eyes, and so we part good -friends.” (Loud cheers.) - -That was his style of oratory, and it did very well. But of course, he -was not always so successful as he was upon this occasion in dragging in -a connection between one of his stories and an election topic. Priscilla -was not always at hand to give him a hint of the possibility of -turning a story to good account. But his audience cared no more for the -appropriateness of a story to an election issue than children care for -the moral of a fable. They wanted to be entertained and he entertained -them, and they found him a jolly good fellow, and affirmed their belief -in varying keys the moment he got upon his legs and the moment he sat -down. - -Mr. Forrester began to feel that there was more than a likelihood -that the Wingfields would win. He took care to arrange with the local -organization to have a sufficient number of sound dull speakers -to precede Jack’s efforts and to follow them up. The difficulty -of providing such speakers is never insuperable in an agricultural -constituency, or for that matter, in any other constituency. - -But the _coup de theatre_ of Jack’s campaign was due to the happy -accident of a conscientious objector--not one of those who had been -provided by the management--being present in the gallery one night, when -Mr. Wingfield had been affirming (for the fiftieth time) that he was -heart and soul an agriculturist. - -“Look here, mister,” this person sang out. “Look here, we’ve heard a -deal about you and the lady (cheers and cries of ‘Turn him out!’) No, -nobody will turn me out.” - -“You’re right there, my lad,” cried Jack. “We don’t want anybody turned -out. We want somebody turned in--into Parliament, and I’ve the authority -of that person for saying that he doesn’t want to be turned in by -turning other people out. Go on, my friend. It’s a free country.” - -“So I was hoping, sir. Well, what I want to know is this. Did ever you -or your lady do a real day’s work yourselves? That’s what I want to -know.” - -There was some laughter and some confusion at the back of the hall, for -it seemed that there were conscientious ejectors present as well as the -conscientious objector. While order was being restored, Priscilla said -something in Jack’s ear, and at once he held up his hand for silence. - -“Our friend has thrown us down a challenge, and we’re only too glad to -take it up,” he cried. “Has either of us ever done a real day’s work? he -asks. Well, here’s my wife’s answer. Here we are in this hall to-night. -Now, to-morrow morning at 10 o’clock my wife will show all who honour -her with a visit in this place whether anyone in this neighbourhood can -tell her something she doesn’t know in dairy work. She’ll do a day’s -butter making with her own hands, and you’ll be able to judge for -yourselves whether or not I have been over or under the mark in my claim -that we understand what we’re talking about. If my speeches here haven’t -contained much butter it’s not because we don’t know what the real thing -is or that one of us at least can’t make it with it the best in the -land. There’s no duchess in this country or any other that can beat Mrs. -Wingfield at butter making (laughter), but it’s not for me to talk to -you of it; you come here, any of you that know what butter is, and you -can judge for yourselves to-morrow and maybe the day after. One friend -up there talked of a single day’s real work. Well, we accept his -challenge and double the task--two days--three--four--if he insists. -Now, mind you, this is no joke. You’ll find that it’s no joke if any of -you hope to beat the butter that will be made here to-morrow and as much -longer as you please.” - -He sat down “amid a scene of indescribable enthusiasm,” as the local -newspapers had it, only they said that “he resumed his seat.” The -man who had asked that question from the gallery was the driver of a -traction engine, and he had long been suspected of harbouring unworthy -socialistic theories. He thought it prudent to leave the hall before the -close of the meeting. - -“How will you get out of it?” asked Mr. Forrester of Priscilla. “That -husband of yours has either made himself or marred himself by his -attempt to get the better of that man in the gallery. How does he mean -you to get out of the business?” - -“He doesn’t,” replied Priscilla. “It was I who told him to take up the -challenge. Oh, Mr. Forrester, we’re all sick to death of this vulgar -talk, talk, talk day after day and night after night. Thank goodness -that I have now a chance of turning from that unwholesome stuff to a -good clean worthy job of butter making. I’ll win this election for my -husband in the legitimate way of work as opposed to words.” - -And she did win it for him. - -By eleven o’clock the next morning she had turned the hall into a dairy, -and in the daintiest dairymaid’s costume that had ever been seen, with -her white arms bare to the elbow, she churned her milk and turned out -pat after pat of the finest butter that had ever been seen in that -neighbourhood. By the evening she had produced sufficient to stock a -shop for a day, and she had leisure to make all the farmers’ daughters -acquainted with the scientific tests by whose aid alone could the best -results be obtained. - -The only trouble that there was in carrying out her scheme was in regard -to the regulation of the crowds of people who flocked from every quarter -to see Mrs. Wingfield respond to the challenge that her husband had -accepted on her behalf. The local police were quite unequal to the -duty of marshalling the crowd. Volunteer stewards had to assist them to -prevent the hall being rushed. But in spite of all their exertions the -doors had to be closed several times during the afternoon. At the -dinner hour of the working population the whole street was packed with -interested young women and still more interested young men, and the -sound of their cheering was as continuous as the firing of a battery of -machine guns. - -“What chance have I against that kind of thing, Forrester?” enquired -Jack’s opponent of the manager of Mr. Wingfield’s party. “I suppose this -is another of your clever tricks” he added, “I should be proud to be -able to father it, but I am not,” said Mr. Forrester. - -“You mean to say that you did not arrange for that challenge?” - -“I do indeed. It was sprung on us--the whole thing was sprung on us. I -give you my word for it. The fellow sang out some rot from the gallery, -and while they were calling to put him out, Mrs. Wingfield saw her -chance. She put Wingfield up to it, and he only did what she told him. I -didn’t know where I was standing when I heard him accept the challenge; -but in a minute or two I saw what could be made of it.” - -“Butter! I don’t know what we are coming to in England when the grave -issues of an election contest are decided in this way--I really don’t.” - -“I’m not sure that that young woman hasn’t inaugurated, a new state of -things. Speech-making is played out as an election force.” - -“And butter-making is to take its place! Why not have a milking match -between the candidates to decide which of them should be returned? Mrs. -Wingfield is a clever young woman, and her husband’s a lucky man. We all -thought him a bit of a juggins.” - -“So he was; but she has made a man of him.” - -“She has made a member of Parliament of him,” said Jack’s opponent; -and whatever enthusiasm he may have felt at the thought, he managed to -prevent it from being noticed in his voice. - -He spoke the truth. Mrs. Wingfield’s husband was returned as the -Parliamentary representative of the Nuttingford division of Nethershire -by a majority of eleven hundred and sixty-one votes. - -When the enthusiastic electors and non-electors--the latter are -invariably the more enthusiastic--blocked the street in front of the -hotel and shouted for Mrs. Wingfield, that lady appeared on the balcony, -but after a long interval. - -Everyone saw that she was smiling, but only those people who were close -to her saw that her smile was that of a woman who has wept and is still -weeping. - - - - -CHAPTER XXV - -The Wingfields as a topic were becoming too much for Framsby. No sooner -had the curiosities of Mr. Wingfield’s engagement to the daughter -of Farmer Wadhurst been discussed than the news came of that -hole-and-corner marriage of the pair. Agriculture was looking up, some -people said, while others asserted that it was manorialism that was -coming down. There was a feeling of indignation at being cheated out of -the marriage; the offence was in their eyes on a level with the promise -of a presentation of a stained-glass window to the church and then -sending one done on “Glacier” transparent paper. The act, if not -absolutely fraudulent, was certainly in very bad taste, a good many -people said; but there were others who announced that they were not -surprised at that young woman’s desire to avoid publicity being obtained -for such an act as her marriage to a second husband before her first had -been dead more than two months. These were the people who had invariably -referred to Priscilla as Mrs. Blaydon, and pretended not to understand -who was meant when anyone spoke of Miss Wadhurst. - -The right set agreed that the whole affair, from the engagement to the -marriage, was disgraceful, and hastened to leave a second relay of cards -upon Mrs. Wingfield the elder, and to enquire with a most interesting -expression on their faces, if they were fortunate enough to get a word -with that lady, when the young couple would be at the Manor, so that -they might leave cards upon them as well. - -It might reasonably have been expected, Framsby thought, that the -Wingfields had absorbed enough of the conversation of the community up -to this point; but it seemed as if the Wingfields had set themselves up -as a perpetual topic; for while the buzz about the marriage was still in -the air, there came the news, announced in ridiculously large type under -the heading of “The Nuttingford Vacancy,” that the Wingfields were in -this business as well. “The Candidature of Mr. Wingfield” soon became -the most conspicuous line in every newspaper; and the way even the -most respectable London organs lent themselves to this new scheme for -pandering to that young woman’s insatiable desire for publicity showed, -in the estimation of Mrs. Gifford and her friends, with deplorable -emphasis, how depraved was the taste of the readers for whom the -newspapers catered. - -The same censors were, however, just enough to affirm that the woman -was at the bottom of it all. They rehearsed the various items in her -progress of publicity; and the result was certainly a formidable total. -The first was, of course, the sensation of the arrest of Marcus Blaydon -at the church door; and then came his trial, and the pathetic appeal -made by the prisoner’s counsel to the judge and jury on behalf of the -young wife, every line of which appeared in the papers. But this was -apparently not enough for that young woman, and her name must be dragged -into the published account of the death of her husband. Two months -later she had married Mr. Wingfield in a way that was eminently open for -discussion, and now here she was urging her poor husband--the poor rich -man whom she had inveigled into marrying her, to make a fool of himself -by coming forward as a candidate for the representation of an important -division of an important county. - -They marked off the items on their fingers after the convenient method -of Lord Lovat in Hogarth’s picture, and then enquired where it was all -going to end. When were those newspapers who gave four or five snapshots -every morning of Mrs. Wingfield engaged in canvassing for her husband, -and now and again a cabinet portrait of herself, coming to reason? When -were they going to cease lending themselves to the ambitious schemes of -the farmer’s daughter? Everybody knew, and several newspapers asserted, -that Mr. Wingfield had no chance whatsoever of being returned to -Parliament for Nutting-ford, so what on earth was the sense of pushing -that young woman before the eyes of the public? That was what the -censors were anxious to know. - -But when the butter-making scenes came, and the papers were strewn with -snapshots of this transaction--when the great London organs gave column -reports of it, with occasional leading articles, and when finally the -news came that Mr. Wingfield was returned by an enormous majority--the -members of the best set hurried out to the Manor with a fresh relay -of cards. Surely the new member and his wife, out of gratitude for the -distinction conferred upon them by the electors of Nuttingford, would -provide the people of Framsby with a series of _fêtes_ on a scale -unparalleled by any remembered in the neighbourhood. - -Now there was in Framsby a population of some 9,000 who belonged to -none of the recognized sets, and who had never so much as heard of -the existence of these sets; these are the people who matter in -every community, not the retired civil servants, not the retired -undistinguished officers of Sappers or the A.S.C.; and these were the -people who felt that something should be done to show how proud Framsby -was of having given Nuttingford a member and of having given that member -a wife who had her portrait looking the whole world in the face out of -the pages of the illustrated papers. These are not the people who hire -halls and elect a chairman and pass resolutions to the accompaniment of -long, commonplace speeches. But they get there all the same, and they -got there when they felt that they should do something to show their -admiration for Mr. Wingfield and his wife. - -What they perceived they could do in this way was to meet the train by -which the pair whom they desired to honour would arrive at Framsby, and, -removing the horses from their carriage (they had found that the motor -was not to be used), harness themselves to the vehicle and drag it -through the streets and along the road to the Manor. From the steps of -the porch the new member of Parliament would address them, and possibly -his wife would follow him; they would all cheer and sing that about -the jolly good fellow, and then the final and most important act of -appreciation would take place: the health of the young couple would be -drunk by the crowd at the young couple’s expense. Moreover, a little -reflection was sufficient to convince the good people that the occasion -represented what was known as a double event: the celebration was -not only of the home-coming of Mr. and Mrs. Wingfield, after their -honeymoon; it was also the celebration of the splendid and successful -election contest in which they had both been so actively engaged. - -The good people pulled themselves together. They felt that it could -be done. They felt themselves quite equal to doing the honours of the -double event, and no one who knew them would have ventured to suggest -that the confidence which they had in their own powers was misplaced. - -There was very little organization in the matter--very little was -required. Half-a-dozen house painters prepared as many lengths of -canvas containing the simple manly English words “Welcome Home,” and -half-a-dozen young gentlemen in the drapery line got together some -slices of bunting which they shaped and glued on to rollers, so that -they became bannerets in a moment. For the necessary bouquets they knew -that they could depend upon the Manor gardeners; so the arrangements -for the demonstration did not occupy much time or thought. The musical -accompaniments were suggested by the Town Band, and then it was that Mr. -Mozart Tutt, Mr. Morley Quorn, and the other members of the Framsby Glee -and Madrigal Meistersingers had a chance of putting into practical form -their recognition of what Mrs. Wingfield had done for them upon one -occasion, for they prepared some choice serenade music with which to -greet the lady and her husband in the course of the night. - -Someone suggested that they should practise a chorus beginning “See, -the Conquering Hero Comes” for the railway station; but Mr. Tutt was too -wise to enter into any contract that would involve competition with the -band and the cheers of the public. - -And on this scale the home-coming of Mr. and Mrs. Wingfield was arranged -for; and as neither of them had been informed of the intention of -Framsby, they were rather surprised when, late in the evening, their -train steamed into the station, and slowed down into an atmosphere of -yells. Beyond the barrier there was a sea of faces whose waves were caps -with an occasional straw hat, and here and there a bowler--all were in -the air undulating fitfully, and lapping the base of a headland bearing -the inscription “Welcome Home.” - -“Gloriana!” cried Jack. “Is this for us? And I fancied we had been done -with all that sort of thing until the next general election.” - -“Of course it’s for us,” said Priscilla. “I had no idea that Framsby -would rise equal to the occasion.” - -“Framsby is rather more than equal to the occasion,” growled Jack. “What -I want to know is, what has Framsby got to do with the election?” - -“This isn’t an election demonstration. Can’t you see that it’s only a -welcome home?” - -“Dammitall!” murmured Jack. - -It is part of the penalty which people have to pay for being popular -that when they are trying to get into the church where a clergyman is -waiting to marry them, their admirers prevent them from entering; -when they are leaving a public meeting where they have made a stirring -speech, they have to fight their way to their carriage, and when they -are met at the railway station they are all but deafened first and -suffocated afterwards. Jack and his wife tried to stem that sea of faces -that roared in front of them, but they found it impossible. The platform -exit was narrow, and now it was choked with human life. But this -circumstance did not affect the enthusiasm of the people beyond. They -cheered and waved and quite prematurely broke into the “Jolly Good -Fellow” chorus which, properly speaking, should only find its vent when -Mr. Wingfield should announce from the porch of his house that he hoped -his good friends would honour him by drinking to the health of his -bride. - -It was not until the railway authorities had admitted a force of police -that Mr. and Mrs. Wingfield were able, following in the hollow of the -wedge which they inserted between the masses at the barriers, to reach -the outer atmosphere, which was resonant and throbbing with the fifes -and drums of “See, the Conquering Hero Comes,” though the moment -they put in an appearance, the strains were overwhelmed by cheers as -completely as the flame of a candle is overwhelmed when the extinguisher -is dropped over it. The whole space in front of the station and the -streets to the right and left were crammed with warm human life, -cheering in battalions. - -It was all very flattering and overpowering, and unless a man had gone -through a fortnight’s electioneering he would not know what to do to -restore the _status quo ante_. Happily Mr. Wingfield was such a man. He -sprang upon a trunk--a weight-carrier of the Saratoga type--and taking -off his cap, raised his hand. At once the cheers began to wane and then -they ceased altogether in the region of the station, though further away -they died hard. - -“My friends,” said Jack, in strident tones. “My friends--” and so on. -Everyone knows what he said--everyone present knew what he was going to -say, and he said it. It lasted just three minutes, and before the crowds -had recovered from the effects of that spell of silence, he was in the -carriage with Priscilla by his side. The coachman had taken good care -to send the horses that had been taken out of the traces, back to their -stables, so as to prevent the possibility of a mistake being made by the -crowd. He had heard of enthusiasts taking the horses out of a carriage -upon a similar occasion and failing to return them. - -It was a triumphal progress of Mr. and Mrs. Wingfield from the railway -station to the Manor. Never could such a home-coming have been looked -for by either Jack or Priscilla when, in accordance with the terms of an -agreement which they had entered into at the office of the registrar of -marriages, they had left that station a couple of months earlier, -she having returned to Framsby for one day only from her visit to her -Dorsetshire friends, and he from his interesting interview with his -promising agent. - -The sun had just set when the carriage was dragged along the road to the -Manor House, the crowds trotting on each side. It was a warm evening, -and they were getting into fine form for the beer which they knew was -awaiting them. On through the gates and up the avenue the carriage -was dragged. The band had been left some distance behind, so they were -spared any more suggestions of the “Conquering Hero,” but the full choir -of the Framsby Glee and Madrigal Meistersingers now ranged around the -Georgian porch, and in response to the beat of Mr. Tutt, struck into -“Hail to the Chief that in Triumph Advances,” and the effect was -certainly admirable, especially as the blackbirds and the thrushes -supplied an effective obbligato from the shrubberies. There are several -stanzas to that stirring chorus, and the young couple had ample time to -greet Mrs. Wingfield, who had come to the head of the steps of the porch -to welcome them, before the strains had come to a legitimate close. Jack -had also time to ask the butler if he had made any arrangements about -those casks of beer, and to receive a satisfactory reply. - -When the last notes of the melody had died away and the cheers began -once more, he stood with Priscilla by his side (she was carrying the -beautiful bouquet with which she had been presented: every flower had -come from the garden before her) at the top of the steps. - -“My dear friends,” he began, and then he said the rest of what everyone -expected him to say--even his final words, referring exclusively to -the drinking of his health and the health of Mrs. Wingfield, were not -unexpected--at any rate, they were quite as well received as any part -of his speech; and then came the true and legitimate rendering of the -anthem which marks the apotheosis of the orator, “For He’s a Jolly Good -Fellow,” followed by the “Hip, hip, hip, hooray!” thrice repeated, with -one cheer more in case that the enthusiasm had not found an adequate -vent by the triplex scheme, though the latter certainly did not seem to -be ungenerous in its application. - -The butler responded to the sentiment of the cheer. - -Priscilla went upstairs to her room to change her travelling-dress, but -Jack, with his arm about his mother, went into the dining-room, where -some cold eatables had been laid out, with a refreshing “cup” in an old -cut-glass jug. No candles had yet been lighted; there was no need for -them; the glow of the sunset came through the windows and imparted the -show of life to the portraits, each in its own panel along the wall on -both sides of the fireplace. - -The man glanced round the room with a look of satisfaction on his face. - -“Ha, my old friends,” he cried; “how have you all been since I saw you -last? Somehow you don’t seem quite so surly as you used to be when I -first came among you. You’re not altogether so sneery as you were, -my bold ancestors--what? Do you know, mother, I always had a hang-dog -feeling from the first day I found myself among these impressive -Johnnies--I had a feeling that they were jeering at me; and I was afraid -to argue it out with them on the spot. But now I can face them -without feeling that I’m like the dirt beneath their feet. I’ve done -something--I’ve married the right wife for a chap like me--she has done -it all, mother. I never should have had the cheek to try it off my own -bat. She made me go in for it, and then she pulled it off for me. And -all so quietly and tactfully; no one would fancy that she was doing it -When Franklin Forrester was stating the case to me, she sat by and never -uttered a single word, and so it was to the very end. I tell you she -almost succeeded in inducing me to delude myself into the belief that I -was doing the whole thing. Oh, she’s the wife for me!” - -“Indeed I feel that she is,” said his mother, still keeping her hand -upon his arm. “I am so glad that I have lived to see your happiness, -Jack. I am so glad that I loved her from the first.” - -“I knew that you would, dearest. That made you doubly my mother. I felt -that I was giving you a daughter after your own heart.” - -She pressed his arm, and held up her face to him. He kissed her silently -on each cheek, and then on the forehead. - -“Good-night, my boy,” she said. “I must leave you now. You will be -together.” - -“Don’t think of going yet,” he cried. - -“I have not been quite so well to-day,” she said. “I just got up so as -to be able to welcome you both, but it has been too much for me. You -will say good-night to her for me.” - -“You do look very pale and frail, my dearest,” he said. “You should not -have left your bed. We could easily have put off our return for another -day.” - -“Oh, I’m not so ill as all that,” she said, with a laugh. “But you -know how I need to be careful. If I have a good night I may be able to -breakfast with you in the morning. Good night, my own boy. God bless -you.” - -“God has blessed me,” he said. “I have the best mother in the world--the -best wife in the world.” - -He put her in the hands of her maid, who was waiting for her in the -corridor at the head of the staircase. Then he walked to the further -end of the same corridor and stood at the window, looking out at the -dissolving crowds below, hearing the “chaff” of the boys and the -girls, and the cackling laughter of incipient but certainly not insipid -love-making. The advances of the young men were no more deficient in -warmth than was the retreat of the young women. The giggle and the -shriek were, of course, the natural accompaniments of this playfulness. - -And the Meistersingers were giving their serenade in a self-respecting -style. Mr. Tutt knew all about how that sort of thing should be done. -He had spent close upon three months at Leipzig, studying music on its -highest plane and becoming thoroughly familiar with the varying aspects -of German sentimentality. - -Jack was waiting for the sound of Priscilla’s door and of her steps on -the corridor. Half-an-hour had passed since she had gone upstairs, and -she was not the girl to be making an elaborate toilet at this time. She -should have been ready long ago. - -He returned half-way down the corridor, and entered his own -dressing-room to change his coat and brush his hair. The bedroom was in -silence. - -“Hallo!” he said, without opening the connecting door. “Hallo, -Priscilla, what are you about that you haven’t come down yet?” - -He heard her voice say, “Jack, come to me--come,” but he scarcely knew -the voice to be hers; it was the voice of a stranger. - -He opened the door and passed through. - -She was standing in the centre of the room, still in her -travelling-dress--she had only taken off her hat. - -“I say, what’s the matter?” he began at the moment of entering. But -then he stood still, as she turned her face to him. “Good God! -Priscilla--dearest, what is the matter? You are as pale as death.” - -He thought that she was about to fall--she was swaying as a tall lily -sways in a breath of air. He hurried to her and put his arm about her. - -“My God! You are ill. You have been doing too much. You have been -overdoing it at that beastly election, and this is the reaction. Pull -yourself together, darling.” - -She seemed trying to speak, but no word would come. She gasped. Her -attempt to speak was choking her. At last she managed to make herself -audible. Clutching at his shoulders rather wildly and with her face -rigid, pushed forward close to his--with wild eyes and cheeks as pale as -moonlight, she cried in gasps: - -“Jack--Jack--my own Jack--my husband--swear to me that you will stand by -me--that you will never leave me whatever may happen.” - -“My darling! Calm yourself! Tell me what has happened.” - -“What? What? Only one thing--one thing! I saw his face in the -crowd--close to the carriage. He was not drowned--he’s alive--he has -returned.” - -“What do you mean?--he?--who? God above--not--not that man?” - -“Marcus Blaydon--I tell you I saw his face. He smiled--such a smile! -There is no chance of a mistake. He is alive, and he has returned.” - -The Framsby Glee and Madrigal Meistersingers were giving a spirited -rendering of “Auld Lang Syne.” - - Should auld acquaintance be forgot, - - And never brought to min’, - - Should auld acquaintance be forgot - - And days o’ lang syne? - - - - -CHAPTER XXVI - -The moment that she had spoken he flung a protective arm about her--his -left arm; his right arm was free, and he had turned his face away -from her with a jerk and had alert eyes fixed upon the door. His man’s -instinct had forced him into the protective attitude of the primeval man -when threatened by a sudden danger of another man or another animal. He -had not in that second realized the details of the danger that her words -had disclosed; his action was automatic--the inherited instinct of the -cave-dweller ancestor. - -As such its force was felt in every nerve by the woman who was clinging -to him. - -The silence was broken by the dwindling laughter of the dissolving -crowds outside the house, where primeval man was carrying on his -courting of primeval woman after the manner of their tribe, among the -shrubberies. - -“I knew that you would hold me from him,” said Priscilla. “I knew that I -need not fear anything with you near me, my man, my man!” - -At her words the man, for the first time, was startled. He turned his -face toward her, drawing a long breath, and looked into her eyes. - -In another moment he gave a laugh. - -“Yes,” she said, smiling and nodding her head, interpreting his laugh by -the instinct of the forest. “Yes, let anyone try it.” - -There was a long interval before his hand fell away from her waist. He -felt with that hand for the back of the chair out of which she had risen -on his entering the room--his eyes were still upon her face; they were -still upon it when his groping had found the chair, and he sat down -slowly and cautiously. - -“My God, my God!” he whispered, and once again there was silence. He -could hear that she was shivering as if with cold. There was more than a -hint of chattering teeth. - -“Sit down,” he said, after a long pause. “Sit down and tell me -what--what has happened.” - -She fell shivering into his arms, a dead weight. He thought that she -had fainted, but she had strength enough left to reassure him. She was -clinging to him and her head was upon his shoulder. - -“You will keep me, Jack, you will keep me from him,” she said in a -gasping whisper. “I saw him there, I could not be mistaken--and the way -he smiled.... But I knew that something like this was in store for us. -It would be impossible for such happiness as ours to last. It is always -when one has built up one’s happiness bit by bit, brick by brick, a -palace--a palace was ours, Jack--a hand is put out and down it topples. -That was why I married you in such haste, my darling. I told you, when -you asked me, that I was afraid of losing you. But I haven’t lost you, -dear; I have you still. I have you still!” - -“You have, Priscilla. Whatever else may be doubtful, you may be certain -that you have me still. I will not fail you. Oh, what a fool I should be -if I let anything--or anyone--come between us! Where should I be without -you? What should I be apart from you, darling? I know--I know what I -should be because I know what I was before you came into my life. Do you -fancy that I would shrink from killing a man who tried to part us? Let -him try it!” - -Then he started up with such suddenness that he almost seemed to fling -her away from him. He stood in the middle of the room with clenched -hands, and cursed the wretch who had done his best to wreck her -life--who had not been content with what he had done in this way -more than a year before, but who had been guilty of this contemptible -fraud--pretending that he was dead so that he might return and complete -the work that he had begun--the work in which he had been interrupted. -He cursed him wildly--madly--his teeth set and his eyes like the eyes of -a hungry wolf--worse--infinitely worse. And she sat by, listening to -his ravening and glorying in it as the woman of the cave gloried in the -anger of her man when he heard the wolves howl in the distance. She knew -that her man would fight them and get the better of them. She knew that -the man is fiercer than the wolf and forces the wolf to retreat -before his anger. Every curse that Jack uttered--and he uttered a good -many--added to her love for him. That was what she had come to by the -stress of circumstances. - -But she knew that when the passion of the wolf in the man had spent -itself, the god in the man would take the upper hand. If there had not -been a bit of a god in man he would have remained a wolf. - -She noted the dwindling of the impromptu Commination - -Service which he conducted without the aid of an acolyte. He paced the -room for a while and then stopped in front of one of the windows looking -out into the sapphire glow of the summer twilight. Before he turned to -her the room had become perceptibly darker. She could not see the -expression on his face, for his back was to the light, but she knew what -it was by the sound of his voice, when he said, “Forgive me, Priscilla; -I forgot myself.” - -“You did, dear, you forgot yourself; you remembered only me,” she said. -“Sit down, Jack, and let us talk it all over. I have recovered from -the effects of that first sense of terror that I had. I suppose it was -natural that I should be terror-stricken.” - -“Terror-stricken! I cannot understand how you managed to restrain -yourself for so long. You saw him shortly after we left the station, you -said?” - -“Yes, I think I must have cried out, but, of course, you could not hear -me on account of the cheers.” - -“Ah, those cheers! A triumph--a triumphal progress! A joyful welcome -home--that ruffian’s smile.... You could not have made a mistake. I -don’t suggest so obvious a way out of this trouble. You saw him.” - -“I saw him.” - -“And yet you were strong enough to bear yourself as if nothing -had happened! No woman alive except yourself could have done that, -Priscilla. And then--then you were strong enough to tell me all there -was to be told. Another woman--any other woman--would have tried to keep -it secret, would have paid the fellow his blackmail until his demands -became too monstrous, and then--what might happen? Heaven only knows. -But you were straight. You did the right thing. You told me--you trusted -me.” - -“Whom should I trust if not you, my husband?” - -He took the hand that she stretched out to him. He kissed it over and -over again. But this was not enough for him; he took her into his arms -and put his face down to hers. - -“You knew that I was not a fool,” he said. “What should I be without -you?... And what is to come out of it, Priscilla? Can you see what is to -come out of it all?” - -“Everything that we think--the worst--the very worst is to come of it,” - she said. “I see quite clearly all that is before us--well, perhaps not -all, but enough--oh, quite enough for one man and one woman to bear. Oh, -Jack, if you were only a little less true, all might be easy. But you -would not let me leave you even if I wished.” - -“Take that for granted,” said he. “But what is to come of it all? There -would be no use buying him off, though I’ve no doubt that that’s what he -looks for. The infernal scoundrel! There’s nothing to be bought off. -If he were to clear off to-morrow matters would only be the more -complicated.” - -“Not a step to one side or the other off the straight road must we -take,” she cried. “We must begin as we mean to end. No compromise--there -must be no thought of compromise. You are married to me and I am married -to you, and to you only--I never was married to that man--that is the -truth, and nothing shall induce me to deviate from it, Jack.” - -“That’s the way to put it--I don’t care a tinker’s curse what anybody -says; and take my word for it, a good deal will be said. Oh, I know the -cant. I know the high-hand inconsistency of the Church. But we’ll have -the sympathy of every man and woman who can think for themselves without -the need of a Church handbook on thinking. Yes, I’m pretty sure that -we shall have all the minds on our side if we have the ranters and the -canters against us. At any rate, whether we have them with us or not, -you’ll have me with you and I’ll have you with me. That’s all that -matters to us.” - -“That’s all that matters to us. Only--oh, Jack, your mother--your poor -mother!” - -He was silent for a long time. - -“Look here, Priscilla,” he said at last; “when a man marries a wife he -throws in his lot with her and he should let no consideration of family -or friendship come between him and his wife--that’s my creed. But we can -still hope that my mother will see with our eyes.” - -She shook her head. - -“I have no hope in that way,” she said. “She will go away from us when -we tell her what we have resolved upon. But she is so good--so full of -tenderness and love for us both. Oh, Jack, I would do anything--anything -in the world rather than wound her.” - -He saw at once that her feeling for his mother would make her relinquish -her purpose. He would need to be firm. - -“Look here, my girl,” he said; “there is only one course for us to -pursue. We have no alternative. You spoke the truth just now when -you said that it would not do for us to deviate in the least from the -straight track in this business. The moment we do so we’re lost. That’s -all I have to say. Change your dress and follow me downstairs. I’m -hungry and thirsty. You must be the same. It will not do for us to let -ourselves run down just when we most need to keep ourselves up. We’ll -have the devil and all his angels to fight with before we’re done with -this affair.” - -“I don’t mind the devil,” she said, “it’s the angels that I dread--the -angels with the haloes of their own embroidering and the self-made -wings. Oh, Jack, I wish we could have the angels on our side.” - -“That’s a woman’s weak point; she would go any distance to get the -patronage of an angel.” - -“Do you remember the day when you called me your good angel, Jack? Alas, -alas! Jack!” - -“I called you that once, my girl, and I’ll call you so again--now. I -never felt greater need of you than I do now. I am just starting life, -dear, and that is when a chap most needs a good angel to stand by him.” - -“And for him to stand by. Oh, Jack, if I hadn’t you to stand by me now -I would give up the fight. If I had not married you, where should I -be when that wretch came and said, ‘I have come for my wife’? You have -saved me from that horror, Jack.” - -“I wish I knew how to keep you from the horror that you have to face, my -Priscilla.” - -“You will learn, Jack, every day you will learn how to do it.” - -He gazed at her from the door for some moments, and then went slowly -downstairs and into the diningroom. A footman and the butler were in -waiting. He sent them away, telling the latter that Mrs. Wingfield was -a little knocked up by the attention of the townspeople, and would -probably not come downstairs for some time; there was no need for the -servants to stay up. - -She came down after an interval, and he persuaded her to eat something -and to drink a glass of the “cup” which had been prepared in accordance -with an old still-room recipe in the Wingfield family. - -Afterwards they went out together upon the terrace, and he lit a cigar. -They did not talk much, and when they did, it was without even the most -distant allusion to the shadow that was hanging over their life. When -there had been a long interval of silence between them, they seated -themselves on the Madeira chairs, and he told her how on that evening -long ago--so very long ago--more than two months ago--he had sat there -longing for her to be beside him; how he had put his face down to the -cushion thinking what a joy it would be to find her face close to his. - -“And now here it has all come to pass,” he said. “This is the very chair -and the cushion, and the face I longed for.” - -He sat on the edge of her chair and laid a caressing hand upon her hair; -but he did not put his face down to hers--he could not have done so, -for her face was turned to the cushion; but even then her sobs were -not quite smothered. He could feel every throb as his hand lay upon her -forehead. He made no attempt to restrain her. He had an intuition--it -was a night of instincts--that her tears would do much more to soothe -her than it would be in his power to do. - -For an hour they remained there, silent in the majestic silence of the -summer night. It was without the uttering of a word that she rose and -stood in front of him at last. He kissed her quietly on the forehead and -she passed into the house through the open glass door, and he was left -alone. - -He threw himself down on his chair once more, but only remained there -for a minute. He sprang to his feet in the impulse of a sudden thought. - -He went down by the terrace steps to the shrubberies, walking quickly -but stealthily, and moving along among the solid black masses of the -clipped boxes and laurels and bay trees. So he had stalked a tiger that -he wanted to kill on his last night at Kashmir. He moved stealthily -from brake to brake as though he expected to come upon an enemy skulking -there. And then he crossed by the fountains and the stone-work of -crescent seats and mutilated goddesses and leering satyrs, into the -park and on to the avenue that bent away from the country road. He moved -toward the entrance gates and the lodge with the same stealth of the -animal who is hunting another animal, pausing every now and again among -the trees to listen for the sound of footfalls. - -He heard the scurrying of a rabbit--the swishing rush of a rat through -the long grass, the flap and swoop of a bat hawking for moths--all the -familiar sounds of the woodland and the creatures that roam by night, -but no other sound did he hear. - -“The infernal skunk!” he muttered. “The infernal skunk! He has not even -the manliness to claim her--he does not even take enough interest in her -to see where she lives--to look up at the light in her window. He -lets her go from him, and he will come to-morrow to try on his game of -blackmail. I wish I had found him skulking here. That’s what I want--to -feel my fingers on his throat--to throttle the soul out of him and send -him down to...” and so forth. He completed his sentence and added to it -several other phrases, none of which could be said actually to border on -the sentimental. He stood there, a naked man among his woods, thirsting -for a tussle with the one who was trying to take his woman from him. - -It was not until he had returned to the chair of civilization and had -begun to think in the strain of fifty thousand years later, that he felt -equal to contrasting this wretch’s bearing with that of the sailor man -about whom his mother had read to him when he was a boy and she had -thought it possible to impart to him a liking for the books that she -liked--a sailor named Enoch Arden who had been cast away on a desert -island--he had had great hopes of any story, even though written -in poetry, which touched upon a man on a desert island. Enoch Arden -returned to England to find his wife married to another man and quite -happy, and he had been man enough to let her remain so. But Jack had not -forgotten how that strong heroic soul had looked through the window -of her new house the first thing on reaching the village. Ah, very -different from this wretch--this infernal skunk who had preferred -boozing in a bar at Framsby and then staggering upstairs at the “White -Hart” to his bed. He had a huge contempt for the fellow who wouldn’t -come to Overdean Manor Park to be throttled. - -But soon his train of thought took another trend. He knew that Priscilla -was womanly, though not at all like other women, to whom the conventions -of society are the breath of life, and the pronouncement of a Church the -voice of God. She had proved to him in many ways--notably in regard to -her marrying of him--that she was prepared to act in accordance with her -own feeling of right and wrong without pausing to consult with anyone -as to whether or not her feeling agreed with accepted conventions -or accepted canons. She had refused to be guilty of the hypocrisy of -wearing mourning for the man whom she hated; and she had ignored the -convention which would have compelled her to allow at least a year to -pass before marrying the man whom she loved. - -He reflected upon these proofs of her possession of a certain -strong-mindedness and strength of character, and both before and after -she had come to him as his wife he had many tokens of her superiority -to other women in yielding only to the guidance of her own feeling. -This being so, it was rather strange that he should now find that his -thoughts had a trend in the direction of the question as to whether it -might not be possible that, through her desire to please his mother--to -prevent people from shaking their heads--she might be led to be untrue -to herself--nay, might she not feel that she could only be true to -herself by making such a move as would prevent people from saying, as -in other circumstances they would be sure to do, that he was to blame in -keeping her with him? - -That was the direction in which his thoughts went after he had been -sitting on his chair under her window for an hour. But another half-hour -had passed before there came upon him in a flash a dreadful suggestion, -sending him to his feet in a second as though it were a flash of -lightning that hurled him out of his chair. He stood there breathing -hard, his eyes turned in the direction of her window above him. He -remembered how he had looked up to that window on that night in June -when his longing had been: “Oh, that I could hear her voice at that -window telling me that she is there!” - -She was there--up there in that room now, but... He flung away the cigar -which he held unlighted between his fingers, and went indoors and up the -staircase. - -He remained breathing hard with his hand on the handle of her door. - -Would he find that that door was locked--locked against him? - -He turned the handle. - -She had not locked the door. - -She was his wife. - - - - -CHAPTER XXVII - -The interview which he most dreaded in the morning was averted, or at -any rate postponed. His mother had had a very bad night and was unable -to get up--she might not be able to leave her bed for a week. Her -malady, though not actually dangerous, was disquieting because it was so -weakening, a bad attack frequently keeping her in bed for ten days or -a fortnight; and complete quiet was necessary for her recovery and long -afterwards. - -Jack breathed again. He had been thinking of the revelation which he -had to make to his mother before many hours had passed, and the more he -thought of it the greater repugnance did he feel for the discharge of -this duty. He breathed more freely. She might not be in a position to -hear the story for several days, and what might happen in the meantime? - -He could not of course make a suggestion as to what might happen; only -one happening might be looked for with certainty, and this was the visit -of Marcus Blaydon. - -“He will not delay in striking his first blow,” said Priscilla. “You -will let me see him alone? I shall know what to say to him, Jack.” - -But Jack felt that, clever and all though his wife was, he knew better -than she did how to deal with such men as Blaydon. - -“Don’t think of such a thing,” said he. “You and I are one. We shall -face him together. I know that you have your fears for me. You need -have none. I can control myself. But that ruffian--one cannot take too -elaborate precautions. Such men are not to be depended on. Revolvers -are cheap, so is vitriol. I know that type of rascal, and I’ll make my -arrangements accordingly. I have met with blackmailers before now, but -I’ve not yet met one that adhered strictly to the artistic methods of -the profession; they never move without a revolver or a knife--in the -case of a woman they trust a good deal to vitriol.” - -“I’m quite willing to submit to your judgment, Jack,” said she. “I’m not -afraid of him. If you say that I should not see him I’ll leave him to -you, but I think that I should face him with you by my side.” - -“So you shall,” said he. - -And so she did. - -They had not rehearsed an imaginary scene with the man. They had not -exchanged views as to what to say to him. Each knew what was in the -other’s mind on the subject, so that any planning was unnecessary. - -He came early--a man of good presence, he seemed to Jack to be probably -from thirty-five to forty years of age. His dark hair was somewhat -grizzled and so were his moustache and beard. Priscilla had thought -it strange that he had not shaved his face on getting out of gaol and -starting life afresh. He had always worn that short, square beard; but -it now appeared to her to be shorter and to have much more grey in it. -His eyes were queer, neither grey nor hazel; they were not bad eyes, -and they had a certain expression of frankness and good spirit at times -which was quite pleasing, until the man began to speak, and then the -expression changed to one of furtiveness, for he looked at the person -whom he was addressing with his head slightly averted so that the pupils -of his eyes were not in the centre but awry. - -The thought that came to Jack Wingfield at the moment of the man’s -entrance was that he could easily understand how one might be imposed -on by him; but to Priscilla came the thought that she had been right in -distrusting him from the first. - -He had been shown into the library by the order of Jack; the room was -empty; Jack kept him waiting for some minutes before he entered, saying: - -“Good morning. Can I do anything for you, Mr. Blaydon?” - -“You can,” said the other. “I came here for my wife, and I mean to have -her.” - -And then Priscilla entered. The man threw out both hands in an -artificial, stagey way, and took a step or two toward her. - -“Stay where you are,” said Jack imperatively. “You can talk as well -standing where you are. Don’t lay so much as a finger upon her. Now, say -what you have to say.” - -“Isn’t it natural that I should cross the room to meet my own true -wedded wife, sir?” said the visitor. “She can’t deny it; if I know -anything of her she won’t deny it--we were married according to the -rites of God’s holy ordinance in the Church; and those that God hath -joined together--but I know she will not deny it.” - -“You know nothing of her,” said Jack. “All that you knew of her--all -that you cared to know--was that her father had some money which you -hoped to get your hands on to cover up the consequence of your fraud. -But now you’re going to learn something of her. She escaped by a hair’s -breadth from your clutches, and believing you to be dead--the report of -your heroic death was another of your frauds, I suppose.” - -“I escaped by the mercy of God, sir, and my first thought was for her.” - -“Was it? Why was your first thought on getting out of gaol not for her? -How was it that you were aboard that vessel?” - -“Circumstances beyond my control--but--ah! I wanted to begin life again -and not drag her down with me. I felt that I had it in me, sir; I know -that I had it in me.” - -“You knew that the report of your death was published in the American -papers and you knew that it would appear in all the papers here. That -was nearly four months ago, and yet you took no steps whatever to have -that report contradicted. You wished everyone to believe that you were -dead.” - -“What better chance could I have of beginning life afresh? It seemed as -if the hand of God----” - -“Don’t trouble about the hand of God. You didn’t consider that it was -due to the girl whom you had linked to your career of crime, to mention -in confidence what your scheme was--to begin life again without being -handicapped by your previous adventures that had landed you in gaol?” - -“I wanted to wait until I had redeemed the bitter past. I wanted to be -able to go to her, an honourable man, and say to her, ‘Priscilla, bitter -though the past may have been, yet by the mercy of God----’” - -“Quite so. That was quite a laudable aspiration, and it shows that your -heart is in the right place.” - -“All that I thought about was her happiness, sir. I said, ‘If I -have done her an injustice in the past, she shall find out I have -atoned----’” - -“You thought of nothing but her happiness? Well, now that you come here -and find that she is happy, what more do you want?” - -“I want her--my wife.” - -“Because you think that she will be happy with you? Why didn’t you go -to her and tell her of your plans the very moment you were released from -gaol?” - -“I hadn’t the courage to face her after what had happened, sir.” - -“That was your only reason?” - -“That was my only reason.” - -The man bent his head in an attitude of humility, and Jack Wingfield, -who had spent six years of his life mingling with all sorts of men that -go to make up a world, and who had acquired a good working knowledge of -men of all sorts, looked at the man standing before him with bent head, -and said: - -“You lie, sir; you went straight off to another woman.” - -The man gave a start, and his humility vanished. His eyes revealed -unsuspected depths of shiftiness as he looked furtively from Jack to -Priscilla and back again to Jack. - -“What do you know about it? Has Lyman been writing to you?” - -“Never mind who has been writing to me: the fact remains the same, and -I think we have you in a tight place there, Mr. Blaydon,” said Jack, -smiling at the result of his drawing a bow at a venture. - -“Look here,” cried the visitor. “I know just how I stand. I know what -my rights are--restitution of conjugal rights. I’ve been to the right -quarter to learn all that, and what’s more, I won’t stand any further -nonsense. What right have you to cross-question me--you? It is you who -have ruined the girl, not me.” - -“Mr. Blaydon,” said Jack quietly, “you are a man of the world, and so am -I. You have said enough to show me that you are no fool. Now, speaking -as man to man, and without wishing to dispute the legality of your claim -or to throw away good money among bad lawyers, how much will you take in -hard cash to clear off from here and let things be as they are?” - -“Not millions--not millions!” cried the man indignantly. “I’m no -blackmailer--don’t let that thought come to you. I don’t ask for money. -Good Heavens, sir! what have I done that you should fancy my motives -were of that character? No; all I ask is for my wife to come with me.” - -“And supposing she went with you to-day, what could you do for her?” - said Jack. “Have you a home to which you could take her? What are your -prospects?” - -“My prospects may be none of the brightest, Mr. Wingfield; I wasn’t born -so lucky as you; but I’m her husband, and it’s my duty to think of her -first. If she’s the woman I believe her to be, she will acknowledge that -her duty is to be with me.” - -He looked toward Priscilla, but she remained silent; she made no attempt -to acknowledge his complimentary words. - -Then Jack went to the mantelpiece, and drew a postcard from behind a -bronze ornament--a postcard addressed to himself. - -“Take that card in your hand and tell me if you recognize the -handwriting,” he said, handing the card to the man who took it and -scrutinized the writing closely. - -“I never saw that writing in all my life,” he said, and Jack took the -card from him smiling. The man looked at his fingers; the card had -evidently been leaning against a gum-pot and got a touch of the brush on -its border. He wiped his fingers in his pocket-handkerchief, while Jack -replaced the postcard where it had been standing. - -“If you tell me you have never seen that writing before, I am -satisfied,” said he. “But I have a letter or two the writing on which -I fancy you would have no difficulty in recognizing. I will not produce -them just yet. Now, without wasting more time, Mr. Blaydon, I wish -to know from you in one word, now or never, if I offer you the sum of -twenty-five thousand pounds----” - -Priscilla started up. - -“Don’t you speak,” cried Jack, sternly. “I’m prepared to be liberal. -But mind, it’s now or never with you, my man; for I’ll swear to you -that I’ll never repeat my words--I say now, if I offer you the sum of -twenty-five thousand pounds to clear away from here, to go to, let us -say, Canada, and sign a paper never to return to England or to make any -further claim upon us--well, what do you say--yes or no?” - -There was an appalling pause. A great struggle seemed to be going on in -the man’s mind, and so there was, but he pretended that it was in his -heart, but this was where he made a mistake. He overrated his gifts as -an emotional actor. His shifty eyes prevented his being convincing. He -turned his head away, and took out his handkerchief. Then he wheeled -sharply round and spoke firmly. - -“Mr. Wingfield, I’ve told you that I have no thought except for the -happiness of my wife. I’ll take the money.” - -“Will you indeed?” asked Jack, anxiously. - -“I don’t want to stand between her and happiness. I will take the -money,” said the visitor. - -“I thought that you would decide in that way,” said Jack, “and I’ll pay -it to you----” - -“Never!” cried Priscilla, speaking for the first time. - -“Thank you; that’s the word I was looking for,” said Jack. Then he -turned to the man. - -“Take yourself away from here, and look slippy about it, my good -fellow,” he said. “You have shown yourself to be just what I guessed you -were. But I don’t think that you can say so much for us: we’re not just -the fools that you fancied, Mr. Blaydon. You thought you were a made man -when you learned that the girl you had tricked once had fallen a victim -to your second deception. You’ll need a bit of re-making before you can -call yourself a man. How much better would our position be if you were -to clear off without revealing the fact of your existence to anyone? -Our marriage would be legally still no marriage. And you thought that -in these circumstances we would hand you over a fortune. Now be off with -you, you impudent blackmailer, and do your worst. We shall fight you, -and get the better of you on all points. You may take that from me.” - -“I have come for my wife, and I mean to have her. You allowed just now -that she was my wife,” cried the man, weakly reverting to his original -bluff. - -“She refuses to go with you, Mr. Blaydon. How do you mean to effect your -purpose?” - -“I have the law on my side. I know where I stand. Conjugal rights----” - -“Two conjugal wrongs don’t make one conjugal right, and you’ll find -that out to your cost, my good fellow. We’ve had enough of you now, Mr. -Blaydon. I’ve been very patient so far, but my patience has its limits. -Go to the attorney or the attorney’s clerk who sent you here, and ask -him to advise you as to your next step.” He rang the bell, and the -footman had opened the door before he had done speaking. - -“Show this person out,” said Jack, choosing a cigar from a box on the -mantelpiece, and snipping the end off with as great deliberation as is -possible with a snip. Priscilla had already gone out of the room by the -other door--the one which led into the dining-room. - -The man looked at Jack, and then looked at the respectful but -unmistakably muscular footman. - -“Good morning, Mr. Wingfield,” he said, picking up his hat. - -“Good morning,” said Mr. Wingfield. “Fine weather for the harvest, isn’t -it?” - -“Admirable,” responded the departing guest. “Admirable! Ha! ha!” - -He made a very inefficient villain of melodrama in spite of his “Ha, -ha!” laugh. - -Yes, but he occupied a very important position as an obstacle to the -happiness of Mr. and Mrs. Wingfield. He was legally the husband of the -young woman who called herself Mrs. Wingfield, and who had never called -herself by his name, and a legal husband is a quantity that has always -to be reckoned with. His position is a pretty secure one when considered -from the standpoint of English legality. In America he would do well not -to step on a slide. - - - - -CHAPTER XXVIII - -That’s over, at any rate,” said Jack, when he had come to the side of -Priscilla in the dining-room. He was smiling, but his face was pale, and -his fingers that held his cigar were twitching. “I didn’t say just what -I meant to say, but I think I said enough.” - -“Every word that you said was the right word,” she cried. “You spoke -like a man who knows that a fight has to be faced, and does not fear to -face it. Dearest, you were splendid; only--what do you know about him? -Who has been telling you anything?--that about the woman--who suggested -to you that he had gone to a woman?” - -“I have had experience of men of all sorts and conditions. I knew when -I saw the fellow that I had to deal with a man on whom such a shot would -tell. It was a shot, and I hope that it may turn out to have been a -happy one for us. What was the name he mentioned?--someone who he said -had been giving him away?” - -“Lyman.” - -“Lyman. So it was. We must make a note of that. Lyman is the name of the -man that is ready to give him away. Now, who is Lyman?” - -“Lyman is the name of the captain of the barque that was wrecked on the -coast of Nova Scotia. He was among the saved.” - -“You knew that? Well, that’s so much. I’m not sure that it’s a great -deal, but the smallest contribution will be thankfully received.” - -“Another mystery--that postcard. It was from the gunmakers--about the -last cartridges. What would you have learned if he had recognized the -handwriting of the clerk?” - -“That was a little dodge of mine to get from him a piece of undoubted -evidence of his identity. You see, I wasn’t quite certain that he -was the man. There are so many men ready to carry out some scheme of -imposture if they only get the chance. Lord! the cases that I have heard -of! Now, what more likely than that someone on the look-out for a job -should have read the accounts that appeared in the papers of the heroic -death of Marcus Blaydon, and then got hold of the idea that it would pay -to come to me with a story of how he had not been drowned, and with a -demand for his wife or a pretty fair sum to keep away?” - -“There can be no doubt that he is Marcus Blaydon--oh, none whatever. I -wish there was even the smallest chance of a chance. But how would the -postcard prove anything?” - -“Well, an hour ago I found that card on the mantelpiece, and I gave it a -light coating of gum. By that means I got an excellent impression of his -fingers, and by good luck his thumb also. Now, if I send that card to -the governor of the gaol where the man spent a year, he will tell me, -in the course of a post or two, if he is Marcus Blaydon or Marcus -Aurelius--see?” - -She did see. She saw very clearly that the man whose education in a -certain direction she had airily undertaken, possessed some elements -of knowledge in another direction. He had not mis-spent his years of -wandering. He had come to know something of his fellow men and their -ways. She was well aware of the fact that, however resolute, however -brave she might have been in meeting that man face to face at the -critical moment, she would not have succeeded in getting rid of him -as easily as Jack had got rid of him; and her admiration for Jack had -proportionately increased. Women love a man who is successful with -women, but they worship a man who is successful with men. - -Priscilla gazed in admiration at the man before her. - -“You got the better of him in every way,” she said “He was like a child -in your hands--a foolish boy.” - -“We’ll get the better of him in the long run, too, you may be sure of -that,” he said. - -The morning’s work had immeasurably increased his admiration for her. -She had only said one word during the whole of that time spent in the -library. If a man esteems a low voice as a most excellent thing in a -woman, he bows down before the wisdom of a woman who has a great deal -to say and yet can keep silent. And surely no woman alive possessed the -wisdom of his Priscilla in this respect. She had done neither coaxing -nor wheedling of the electors of the Nuttingford division; she had -resorted to none of those disgusting flatteries of which the wives or -the sisters of other candidates whom he could name had been guilty -even in bonnie Scotland, where Conscience is understood to be the only -consideration to make her sturdy sons vote this way or that. No; his -Priscilla had won him the election by her silence; and in the same way -she had allowed him to send Marcus Blaydon out of the house. - -“You don’t think I was a little too high-handed with him?” said he, -after a thoughtful pause. - -She made an expressive motion of negation with both hands. - -“The sooner it’s over the sooner to sleep, dear Jack,” she said. -“There’s nothing so dreadful as suspense. We shall never know a moment’s -ease until the thing is over--or, at any rate, begun. The sooner he -begins the better pleased will I be.” - -“I don’t think that I gave him any excuse for dallying,” said he, -grimly. - -“What will his next step be, do you fancy?” she asked. “Tell me what he -can do beyond making the newspapers publish the story of his escape. -I know how they will do it--with the column headed in big letters, -‘A Modern Enoch Arden.’ They won’t have the sense to see that he has -nothing of Enoch Arden about him.” - -“We shall have to face some nasty bits of publicity but we’ll face -them,” said he, resolutely. “He has plainly been in touch with a man of -the law; he had got hold of that legal jargon about conjugal rights. He -will have to appeal to a judge to make an order for you to go to him.” - -“But no judge will make such an order--surely not, Jack?” - -“You may take it from me that he will get his order.” - -“Is such a thing possible?” - -“Absolutely certain, I should say.” - -“And what then?” - -“Nothing. The judge who makes the order has no way of enforcing it. Only -if the man can carry you off he has the law on his side. You had much -better not let him carry you off after he gets his order, Priscilla.” - -“Or before it. I suppose that he has the law on his side as matters -stand at present.” - -“I suppose he has. But when he gets his order and you refuse to obey it, -he will have a very good chance of getting a divorce.” - -“It would be hoping too much to expect that he will do us such a good -turn. So then we shall be the same as before.” - -“That’s what I have been thinking; but I’ve also been thinking that -if you made an application to have your marriage to him annulled, the -chances are greatly in favour of your having that application granted.” - -“Jack, you are talking like a lawyer. I did not know that you could give -an opinion on these points so definitely.” - -“I only speak as a layman, from my recollection of certain cases -that have appeared from time to time in the papers. I may be all -wrong--remember that. We may have to fall back upon something that -Captain Lyman knows, and try for a divorce.” - -“That was why you made that shot which showed your knowledge of men such -as he is.” - -“I confess that I hoped to get him to commit himself.” - -“And he did.” - -“Yes; but unfortunately his doing so will not count for anything in a -court of law. We shall have to produce evidence as to the woman--perhaps -even the woman herself. If we find that, immediately after leaving gaol -he went off to her and deserted you--the court would place great stress -upon his desertion of you--we might have a very good chance of getting a -divorce.” - -“Only a good chance?” - -“It would be a layman’s folly--even a lawyer’s folly--to talk with any -measure of certainty about the result of an action at law. But I am -pretty sure that in an application to have the marriage pronounced null -and void, as the jargon has it, his desertion of you would play a very -important part. Funny, isn’t it?” - -“Funny! Funny! Oh, Jack, darling Jack, will not everyone say that it was -the unluckiest day of your life when you met me?” - -“You may be sure that some fools will say that, Priscilla, my wife; but -you may be equally sure that people who knew what I was before I met you -and who have continued their acquaintance will say that, whatever may -happen, my meeting you and marrying you were the best things that ever -happened to me. You may be sure that that’s what I say now and what I’ll -ever say. Now, don’t you suggest anything further in that strain. Good -Lord! Didn’t you say that the best thing for bringing out what was best -in a man was a good fight? Well, I feel that I am now facing a conflict -that will develop every ounce of character I possess. That’s all I’ve -got to say just now, except that I’ve wired to Reggie Liscomb to meet -me at his office in London this afternoon--he belongs to Liscomb and -Liscomb, you know, the solicitors--and he will tell us what we should -do, and I’ll tell him to do it without a moment’s delay. But you may -leave that to Liscomb and Liscomb; their motto has always been ‘Thrice -is he arm’d that hath his quarrel just, and four times he that gets his -fist in fust.’ They’ll get their fist in fust, you bet, if only to take -the wind out of the sails of the other side.” - -Priscilla had frequently heard of the great firm of Liscomb and Liscomb, -but never had she an idea that one day she would be in a position to -recognize that celerity of action in the conducting of a case which had -frequently resulted in the extrication of a client from a tight place. - -“You are going up to London to-day?” she said in surprise. “You don’t -take long to make up your mind, Jack. Why, you had only the night to -think over this dreadful business, and yet you were able to get that man -to commit himself and show his hand, and now you know what is to be done -to give us the best chance of getting rid of him for ever. Jack, I ask -your forgiveness; but I didn’t think you had it in you.” - -“Neither did I until lately, Priscilla. It was you who made me think -differently. Six months ago if I had been brought face to face with a -thing like this I should have run away simply to avoid the bother of -it all. But now--well, now I don’t think that you need fear my running -away.” - -He went up to town by a train that arrived in good time to allow him to -have a long afternoon with his friend, the junior partner in the great -firm of solicitors who had “handled” some of the most interesting -cases that had ever come before a court of law, and some still more -interesting that they had succeeded in settling without such an appeal -to the judgment of the goddess of Chance. Newspaper readers owed them -more grudges than anyone had a notion of, for the persistence with which -they accomplished settlements, thereby preventing the publication of -columns of piquant details--piquant to a point of unsavouriness. The -public, who like their game high and with plenty of seasoning--and -the atmosphere of the Divorce Court is very conducive to the former -condition--little knew what they lost through the exertions of Messrs. -Liscomb and Liscomb; but Messrs. Liscomb and Liscomb knew, and so did -many a superfluous husband and many a duplicated wife. - -But here was a case that could by no possibility be regarded as one that -might be settled out of court. It was bound to move forward from stage -to stage until it came before a judge. Mr. Reginald Liscomb saw that -clearly when Jack had given him an outline of the case which had not yet -advanced to the position of being a case, but which would do so the -very next day, on being “stated” by Messrs. Liscomb and Liscomb to the -eminent advisory counsel whom they kept constantly employed. - -“We have never had anything quite on all fours with this,” said the -junior partner. “What we want is a decree of nullity--that’s plain -enough. But shall we get it? Well, that’s not quite so plain. As a -matter of fact several things may seem plain, but as a matter of law -there’s nothing that can be so described. What’s the man going to do? Is -he going to do anything? Does he fancy that there’s money in it? Did he -suggest that when he came to you to-day? Mind you tell me everything. -The man that conceals anything from his lawyer is as great a fool as the -man that hides something from his doctor, only the lawyer is the more -important. After all, your doctor only deals with your body and its -ailments.” - -“Whereas you look after--no, not exactly one’s soul--one’s -reputation--more important still,” said Jack. - -“You put it very well,” assented Mr. Liscomb modestly--as modestly as -was consistent with an inherent desire for strict accuracy. - -“You compliment me,” said Jack. “You may be sure that I’ll keep nothing -back--especially if it tells against the other man.” - -“Don’t bother about that so much as about what tells against yourself. -At present what might tell against you is the indecent haste in the -marriage--within three months of the report of the husband’s death by -drowning. A judge may think that was not a sufficient time.” - -“But the man would not be more thoroughly dead at the end of a year than -he would have been at the end of three months.” - -“No; but there was only a report of his death. The question that a -judge will ask is this: Did the lady exercise a reasonable amount -of precaution in satisfying herself that her husband was dead before -entering into a second contract of marriage? That’s a very important -question, as you can understand. If the court didn’t consider this point -very closely, you can see how easy it would be for a man and his wife -to get a decree of nullity by the one publishing a report of his or her -death in a newspaper. If the proof of the publication of such a report -were to be accepted as justification for a second marriage after a -brief interval, the time of the court would be fully occupied in issuing -decrees of nullity.” - -“I see--yes--there’s something in that. But the circumstances of -this case are not quite the same, are they? The first marriage was no -marriage, so far as the--the actualities of marriage are concerned: the -man was arrested within five minutes of the signing of the register; -besides, the fellow had made fraudulent representations.” - -“Fraudulent representations are punishable by imprisonment, but they are -not held to invalidate a marriage. But as you say, this particular case -is not on all fours with any that has come under my notice. We were -talking about the question of money, however. Did the man make any -suggestion about your paying him any money?” - -Jack made him aware of the points in the interview bearing upon money, -and Mr. Liscomb took a note of them. No, the fellow could not be called -a blackmailer: the suggestion of the twenty-five thousand pounds had -not come from him; but he had clearly shown his hand. On the whole, -Mr. Liscomb, speaking for himself, and subject to the correction of Sir -Edward, the eminent perpetually-retained counsel learned in the law, -and, more important still, in the idiosyncrasies of judges and the -idiotcies of juries, was of the belief that, taking the peculiarities -of the case into account, a decree of nullity might be obtained; but -failing this a divorce might be tried for. - -“In the meantime it is advisable that Mrs.--that the lady should go back -to her father’s house. You will, of course, see that this is so.” - -“I see nothing of the sort,” said Jack. “She holds that she is my wife, -and I hold that I am her husband, and so we mean to stand by one another -whatever may happen. Besides, the father would hand her over to Blaydon -the day she went to him; and I don’t know what you think of it, but it -seems to me that just now Blaydon occupies a pretty strong position. If -he were to get his hands on her, and hold her as his wife, where should -we be then? How could he be hindered from putting her aboard a ship and -carrying her off to the South Seas?” - -Mr. Liscomb shook his head. - -“We should have to serve a writ of _habeas corpus_ and-----” - -“Don’t trouble yourself further on this score,” said Jack. “We are -together now, and we mean to remain together. Take that as final.” - -“Very unwise! You’ll have difficulty getting the divorce. But in an -exceptional case, possibly--anyhow, we’ll make a move to-morrow, under -the advice of Sir Edward, of course. We’ll be first in the field, at any -rate. So far as I can see just now, we shall enter our case at once and -trust to have it heard early in the Michaelmas sittings.” - -“What, not before October?” cried Jack. - -“Most likely November, with luck, but probably December,” replied Mr. -Liscomb with the complacency of a lawyer for whom time means money. “You -may rely on our losing no time. By the way, has the man anything to gain -by holding on to the lady--I mean, of course, something in addition to -the companionship of the lady?” - -“Her father is well off--a wealthy farmer,” said Jack. - -“Heavens! this is indeed an exceptional case--a wealthy farmer nowadays! -And you have reason to believe that if she went to the custody of her -father he would hand her over to the man?” - -“He would do his best in that way--he would not succeed, because his -daughter is stronger than he is; but he would only force her to run back -to me.” - -“I should have thought that the old man would kick him out of his -house--a blackguard who was fool enough to get caught. But I’ve had -experience of fathers--mostly Scotch--who believe so desperately in the -sacredness of the marriage bond that they would force a woman to live -with the man she has married even though he has just returned from penal -servitude for trying to murder her.” - -“So far as I can gather from my wife, her father is something like -that.” - -“My wife!” murmured Mr. Liscomb, smiling very gently, when his client -had gone away. “My wife!” - - - - -CHAPTER XXIX - -Jack gave what he considered to be an adequate account to Priscilla of -his interview with Mr. Liscomb. He did not, however, think it necessary -to tell her what that gentleman had said respecting the wisdom of their -separating until the case or cases should be heard, nor did he do more -than hint at the difficulties, which Mr. Liscomb had rather more than -hinted at, in the way of proving the profligacy of Marcus Blaydon. But -he thought it well to prepare her for the inevitable law’s delay; and -he was gratified at the sensible way she received the information that -three months would probably elapse before the case could come on for -hearing. - -“It seems a long time, Jack,” she said. “But I don’t think that it would -be possible for us to have everything ready to go before the judge much -sooner. I have been thinking over the whole matter while you have been -away, and I see clearly, I think, that we shall have trouble in proving -that he went away straight from the gaol to that woman of your surmise. -How are we to get hold of Captain Lyman? and when we do get in touch -with him, how are we to get him to tell us all that he knows?” - -“Yes, all that will take time,” said Jack. “The evidence on this point -may help us in the nullity suit, and in the divorce suit it would, of -course, be absolutely indispensable.” - -There was a pause before she said doubtfully: - -“I wonder if Mr. Liscomb suggested that our marrying in such -haste--within a few months of the news reaching me--would prejudice a -judge.” - -“Of course he did; it was stupid of me to forget that,” replied Jack; -“very stupid, considering that I was thinking of it in the train on my -way home. He made a remark about the haste--indecent haste, he called -it.” - -“And he gave it its right name,” said she. “That was a mistake on my -part, Jack; but don’t think that I’m sorry for it, or that I wouldn’t do -it again. Where should I be to-day if I had waited?” - -“Would your father have insisted on your going to that man?” - -“He would have tried to compel me--I am sure of that. In his eyes -a marriage is a marriage--for worse as well as better--it makes no -difference.” - -“I’m glad that you think so. It lets me know that I did not make a -mistake in what I said to Liscomb on that point. But with reference to -the indecent haste point, surely any judge that is worth his salt will -see that nowadays and in certain circumstances three months are as -long as a year was in the old days--the Prayer-book days! It was in the -fellow’s power to send you a cablegram letting you know that he was safe -long before you had a chance of seeing a newspaper with the account of -the wreck and his heroic conduct. ‘Heroic conduct’ was in the heading, I -remember.” - -“Yes; he’ll have to reply to the judge on that point. By the time Sir -Edward has done with him he’ll have to make a good many replies. Well, -we shall wait for the next move. But three months--if the people are -nasty to us it will seem a long time, Jack; you are right there.” - -“You’ll not find that the law errs on the side of indecent haste. We -shall soon see how the people behave.” - -He was quite right. The next day he glanced at the local paper, thinking -that it was quite possible the man might have gone without the delay of -an hour to make his statement public; but the paper contained no such -interesting item of news. The man was plainly still in consultation with -his solicitor. - -In the course of the afternoon the road to the Manor was crowded with -vehicles bearing card-leavers for Mrs. Jack Wingfield. The two livery -stables at Framsby found the strain on their resources so severe as -to necessitate their collecting the fragments of their most ancient -vehicles and glueing them together in haste to respond to the demand for -carriages from people who had never been otherwise than impolite, if not -actually insolent, to Miss Wadhurst, but who now had a feeling that Mrs. -Jack Wingfield would make her husband’s money fly in _fêtes_. It would -never do for them to miss invitations to whatever festivities were -in the air through neglect on their part to take every reasonable -precaution to secure their being invited. - -But when the footman had the same answer for all--namely, that Mrs. Jack -Wingfield was “not at home,” the feeling was very general that it was -rather too soon for Mrs. Jack Wingfield to give herself airs, though it -seemed that airs were to be looked for from her as inevitably as in an -opera by Balfe. - -Another day brought the newspapers, but there was still no news, in even -the most enterprising of them all, bearing upon the incident which had -caused Mrs. Jack Wingfield to think that for some time at least she -would do well to be “not at home” to any visitors. - -But on the afternoon of the third day a visitor called to whom she did -not deny herself. Her father was admitted and found himself awaiting her -coming in the library. She did not keep him waiting for long. - -“Well, father, is not this a shocking business?” she said, before he had -even greeted her. - -“A shocking business! A shocking business to find you still here, -Priscilla,” he said. - -“Where should I be if not with my husband?” she said. - -“Your husband! Your husband isn’t here; you know that well, my girl.” - -“The only husband I have ever known is here. Please do not fancy that I -recognize as my husband that contemptible fraud to whom you gave me.” - -“However badly he treated you, however grossly I was taken in by him, he -is still your lawful husband. Marriage according to the rites of the -Church is a sacred bond. It is not in the power of man to sever it. You -swore ‘for better for worse.’” - -“I did not swear at all. That is one of the fictions of the Church -like the ‘Love, honour, and obey’ paragraph. Do you tell me that I must -honour a felon, love a trickster, and obey a blackguard?” - -“It is God’s holy ordinance; you cannot deny that, however blasphemous -you may become in your words.” - -“Do you tell me that it is God’s holy ordinance that I should worship -with my body a swindler--a man who only wanted to get me into his power -to prevent his swindling from sending him to the gaol that he deserved? -Do you think that it would be in keeping with the holy ordinance of God -for me to live with a wretch who made his scurrilous joke about the ring -he had just put on my finger a few minutes before the handcuffs were put -on his wrists?--a blackguard who went straight from the gaol to a woman -in America--who allowed the report of his heroic death--oh, how you laid -stress upon that heroic death of his, and called me indecent because I -was sincere enough to thank God for having delivered me from him!--he -allowed the report of his death to be published in order that he might -have a chance of blackmailing my husband.” - -“Your husband! Your--I tell you, girl, that Marcus Blaydon is your -husband, and that so long as you remain under this roof John Wingfield -is your paramour. I warned you of him long ago. I did my duty as a -father by you in warning you that he did not mean to wed you; and didn’t -my words come true?” - -Her face was scarlet and her eyes were blazing. She took a couple -of rapid steps toward the door; but when about to fling it open, she -managed to restrain herself. She stood there, breathing in short gasps, -looking at him but unable to speak for indignation. - -“You are my father,” she managed to say at last; “I do not wish to turn -you out of this house; but if you utter such an accusation again in my -hearing, out of this house you will go--straight--straight! You have -made some horrible--some vile accusations against me--me, your daughter, -whom you placed in the power of that wretch, though I told you that I -never could love him--that I almost loathed him; but instead of showing -my poor mother the cruelty of which she was guilty, you backed her up -and compelled me to utter lies---lies that you knew were lies--in the -church. He uttered lies too; and yet, knowing all that you know, you are -still not afraid to call this duet of Ananias and Sapphira God’s holy -ordinance! I don’t know what your ideas of blasphemy are, but I know -that you have provided me with a very good example of what I should call -blasphemy.” - -He gazed at her as he had never before gazed even when she had also -amazed him by the ease with which she got the better of him. He gazed -at her for some minutes, and then his head fell till his chin was on his -breast. - -“Oh, God, my God! how have I sinned that my girl should turn out like -this?” he said in a firm voice, as if uttering a challenge to his God to -lay a finger upon a single weakness in his life that demanded so drastic -a punishment. - -She watched him, and she had a great pity for him, knowing him to be -sincere in his belief in his own integrity and in the infallibility of -the ordinances of the Church. - -“Father,” she said, “have you not read in the Bible that those who sow -the wind shall reap the whirlwind? I do not profess to know much about -the ways of God toward men--there are people who, while they tell me -one minute that His ways are past finding out, will, the next, interpret -with absolute confidence the most incomprehensible of His acts. But -I have taken note of some things that I have seen, and that is one -of them--the whirlwind harvest. Here we are to-day in this horrible -position--why? Because you compelled me to go to the church and make -promises, and utter falsehoods by the side of that man for whom I had no -feeling of love. If I had ever loved him, would the fact of his going to -gaol have made any difference to me? Not the least. It would only have -made me love him more dearly, knowing that my love would mitigate his -suffering. If I had loved him, would I not have been by his side the -moment he got his freedom? If I had loved him, would I have been capable -of loving someone else and of marrying that one within three months of -his death? The seed was sown, and this is the harvest. I feel for you -with all my heart; but I see the justice of it all--I even see that, -like every other woman, I have to pay dearly for my one hour of -weakness--for my one hour of falsehood to myself.” - -He had not raised his head all the time that she was speaking, nor did -he do so until several moments had passed. He seemed to be considering -her words and to be finding that there was something in them, after all. -But when he looked up there was not much sign of contrition in his face. - -“Whatever you may say, there’s no blinking facts, and you know as well -as I do what are the facts that face you to-day,” he said, shaking a -vehement fist, not as if threatening her, but only to give emphasis to -his words. “The facts are, first, that you are the lawful wife of -Marcus Blaydon, and secondly, that you are not the lawful wife of -John Wingfield, and that if you persist in living with him you are his -mistress.” - -She opened the door this time, but not vehemently. - -“Go away,” she said, “go away. I might as well have kept silent. I -shall work out my own salvation in the face of your opposition and the -opposition of the world.” - -“Your salvation? Woman, it is your own damnation that you are working -out in this house--this house of sin!” - -He took a few steps toward the door and then wheeled round. - -“One more chance I give you,” he said. “Come with me now, and you will -only be asked to resume your former life. I will not insist on your -joining your husband--only come away from this house.” - -“Go away, go away,” she said, without so much as glancing at him. - -Only one moment longer did he stay--just long enough to say: - -“May God forgive you, Priscilla.” - -He contrived, as so many pious people can in saying those words, to -utter them as if they were a curse. They sounded in her ears exactly as -a curse would have sounded. - -And then he tramped away. - -Jack came to her shortly afterwards. - -“You have no news for me, I suppose?” he said. - -“No news, indeed. The old story.” - -“You knew what to expect. I think that the best thing we can do is to -clear off from this neighbourhood as soon as we can. Until the matter -is settled one way or another we should feel more comfortable among -strangers.” - -“I am perfectly happy here, my dear Jack,” she said. “I am so confident -that we are doing what is right, I do not mind what people may say. -Perhaps we should do well to go when your mother is strong enough to -learn what has happened. That is the only thing that I dread--telling -her the story.” - -He shook his head sadly. - -“That will be the worst moment of all,” he said slowly. “Thank heaven -there is no possibility of our having to tell her anything for some -time. She is far from well to-day.” - -That same evening Jack received from Messrs. Liscomb and Liscomb a -copy of the opinion of the astute Sir Edward on their case. It was not -voluminous, but it was very much to the point. It was in favour of an -application for a decree of nullity in respect of the marriage -with Blaydon, on the grounds, first, that the man had made false -representations (ante-nuptial); secondly, that he had deserted his wife, -making no attempt to see her after his release from gaol; and, -thirdly, that he had taken no step to contradict the report, so widely -circulated, of his death, thereby making her believe that she was at -liberty to enter into a second contract of marriage. Failing success to -have the marriage nullified, there were some grounds for trying for -a divorce. In this case it would of course be necessary to prove -misconduct. - -On the whole, Messrs. Liscomb and Liscomb were inclined to think that -the court would consider favourably the application for a nullity decree -on the ground that the man and the woman had never lived together--the -lawyers made use of a legal phrase--and that the latter had good reason -to believe, owing to the default of the former, that she was a -widow when she contracted her second marriage. Of course the -misrepresentations (ante-nuptial) of the man, though of no weight in -an ordinary case of divorce or separation, might in a petition for a -nullity decree be worth bringing forward. They also thought that the -fact of the man’s being convicted of a crime against property (always -looked on seriously by a judge and jury), and of his being arrested -practically in the church porch after the marriage ceremony, would -influence a court favourably in respect of the petitioner. - -“They have never misled a client by an over-sanguine opinion, I should -say,” remarked Jack when he had read to her the letter of Messrs. -Liscomb and Liscomb. - -“And I am sure that they have found that plan to be the wisest,” said -she. “But I think that they rather incline to the belief that we shall -succeed.” - -“From all that I have heard respecting them I feel that they have in -this case expressed what they would consider to be an extraordinarily -roseate opinion of our prospects,” said he. “I wonder what move the -other side will make next, and I wonder also if his advisers will take a -sanguine view of his prospects. Did you gather from anything your father -said that the fellow had been with him?” - -“He said nothing definite on that point; but how should my father know -anything of what has happened unless he had seen Marcus Blaydon?” said -Priscilla. “He is, as we knew he would be, on the side of Blaydon. Just -think of it! He is on the side of the wretch who did his best to wreck -my life--who shortened my mother’s life and made its last months to be -months of misery instead of happiness--who allowed that false report of -his death to go about uncontradicted so that I should run the chance of -finding myself in the midst of the trouble that has come to me now--my -father takes the side of that man against us, simply because of his -superstition as to the sanctity of the marriage service according to the -Church of England! He does not consider for a moment that the sacredness -of marriage is to be found only in the spirit in which the marriage is -entered into. He does not ask himself how there can be any element of a -holy ordinance in a fraud.” - -Jack Wingfield was a man. He had been wise enough to refrain from -considering the question of marriage either from the standpoint of a -sacrament--the standpoint assumed by the Church of Rome--or from -the standpoint of a symbol of the mystical union of Christ and the -Church--the standpoint assumed by the Church of England. He had, as a -matter of fact, never thought about marriage as a mystery, or the symbol -of a mystery. It had only occurred to him that these assumptions, though -professed by the Church within the Church, were ignored by the Church -outside the Church. The Church of Rome refused to recognize divorce; but -had frequently permitted it. It called marriage between an uncle and a -niece incest, but sanctified it in the case of a royal personage. The -Church of England, with its reiteration about every marriage being -indissoluble by man, having been made by God, smiled amiably at the -Divorce Court and petted _divorces_. The Church did not attempt to -assign a mystic symbolism to divorce; and though it had for years -affirmed that the marriage of a man with the sister of his deceased wife -was incest, yet Parliament and every sensible person had assured -the Church that this view was wrong, and the Church, after a little -mumbling, like giants Pope and Pagan at the mouth of their cave, had -submitted to be put in the wrong. - -Jack Wingfield being a student--a newspaper student--of contemporary -history, was aware of the numerous standpoints from which marriage is -discussed, with well-assumed seriousness, by people whom he suspected of -having their tongues in their cheeks all the time; but, as has just -been stated, he had never himself given a thought to the mysticism of -marriage or the symbolism of a wedding. He felt that it was enough for -him to know that when his time came to fall in love with a girl and to -desire to make her his wife, if the girl consented, he would marry her -according to the law of the land, and she would be his wife. - -Well, this had all come about; he had fallen in love and he had married -the girl according to the law of the land; and was there anyone to say -that she was not his wife or that he was not her husband? Of course he -knew that there were quite a number of people who would say so; but -what was their opinion worth? If she was the wife of someone else, she -should, in the opinion of these people, leave him and go to someone -else--yes, go to live with that swindling scoundrel--go to be the -perpetual companion of a felon and a trickster who had shown his -indifference to her and to all that she had suffered as his victim. What -was the value of the opinion of people who should, with eyes turned up, -assert the doctrine of the sacredness of marriage, and the necessity -of acting in the case of himself and Priscilla in sympathy with their -doctrines? These were the people who regard the conduct of Enoch Arden -with abhorrence. Was he not actually allowing his wife to “live in sin” - with the man who had supplanted him? - -No; Priscilla and he had married in good faith, and they should be -regarded by all sensible and unprejudiced people as man and wife. There -was no man living, worthy of the name of a man, who would not call him a -cur if he took any other view of the matter than this. - -The idea of his handing over that girl to be dealt with by a felon -according to his will, simply because the rascal had succeeded in -getting the better of her father and mother... - -Jack Wingfield laughed. - -“Let him come and take her,” he said to himself. - - - - -CHAPTER XXX - -That was what he was longing for--for the claimant to come in person -and lay a hand upon her. He felt that he would have given half -his estate for the chance of answering the fellow as he should be -answered--not by any reference to the opinions of those half-pagan -patriarchs known as The Fathers; not by any reference to the views -promulgated in the Middle Ages by that succession of thieving -voluptuaries, murderers and excommunicators, the heads of the Church of -Rome; or by modern sentimentalists struggling to reach the focus of the -public eye--no, but by the aid of a dog-whip. - -That was what he was longing for in these days--the chance to use his -dog-whip upon the body of Marcus Blaydon. But Marcus Blaydon did not -seem particularly anxious to give him the chance, and this fact caused -his indignation against the man to increase. He felt as indignant as the -henwife when her favourite chicken had shown some reluctance to come out -of its coop to be killed. - -It was the Reverend Osney Possnett, the vicar of Athalsdean, who paid a -visit to the Manor House. Mr. Possnett had not been able to officiate at -the marriage ceremony between Priscilla and Marcus Blaydon; he had been -in Italy at the time; it was his curate for the time being, the Reverend -Sylvanus Purview, who had married them. Doubtless if Mr. Purview had -remained in the parish he would have paid Priscilla a visit when still -under her father’s roof, to offer her official consolation upon the -untoward incident which, happening at the church porch immediately after -the ceremony, had deprived her (as it turned out) of the society of her -husband; but the Reverend Sylvanus Purview had found that the air of the -Downs was too bracing for him, and he had quitted the parish a few days -after the vicar’s return, leaving the vicar to pay for his month’s board -and lodging, which he himself had, by some inadvertence that was never -fully explained, omitted doing, although it was afterwards discovered -that he had borrowed from Churchwarden Wadhurst the money necessary for -this purpose. - -Mr. Possnett had, however, made up for his curate’s official -deficiencies, as well as his monetary, and had spoken very seriously to -Priscilla, on his return from Siena, on the subject of what he termed -her trial--though it was really to Marcus Blaydon’s trial he was -alluding. - -Priscilla had listened. - -And now the Reverend Osney Possnett would not accept the formal -statement of the footman, that Mr. and Mrs. Wingfield were not at home, -but had written a few lines on the back of his card, begging Priscilla -to allow him to speak a few words to her. - -“I wouldn’t bother with him, if I were you,” said Jack when she showed -him the card. “We have no use for your Reverend Osney Possnett. But -please yourself.” - -“I don’t want to be rude,” said Priscilla. - -“No, but he does,” said Jack. - -“I don’t mind his rudeness,” she cried. “Perhaps--who can tell?--he may -have something important to communicate to me--something material----” - -“They scorn anything bordering on the material,” remarked Jack, “except -when they get hold of a fraudulent prospectus with a promise of eighty -per cent, dividends. But see him if you have any feeling in the matter.” - -“I think I should see him, Jack.” - -“Then see him. I’m sure he won’t mind if I clear off.” - -So Jack went out of the room by the one door and the Reverend Osney -Possnett was admitted by the other. The room was the large drawing-room -with the cabinets of Wedgwood; and the sofa on which Priscilla sat -was of the design of that in which Madame de Pompadour was painted by -Boucher. It is, however, scarcely conceivable that the Reverend -Osney Possnett became aware of any sinister suggestiveness in this -coincidence. - -He shook hands with her, not warmly, not even socially, but strictly -officially. - -“Priscilla,” he said--he had known her from her childhood--“Priscilla, -I have seen your father. He has told me all. I felt it to be my duty to -come to you--to take you away from here.” - -She looked up and laughed--just in the way that Mrs. Patrick Campbell -laughs in “Magda” when the man makes the suggestion about the child. -Priscilla’s rendering of that laugh made her visitor feel angry. He was -not accustomed to be laughed at--certainly not to his face. He took a -step toward her in a way that suggested scarcely curbed indignation. - -“Priscilla,” he cried, “have you realized what you are doing? Have you -realized what you are--what you must be called so long as you remain in -this house?” - -“Yes,” she replied. “I am Mr. Wingfield’s wife, and I am called Mrs. -Wingfield by all in this house, and I must be called so by everyone who -visits at this house!” - -“You are not his wife--you know that you are not his wife,” said Mr. -Possnett, vehemently. - -“I know that I am his wife, Mr. Possnett,” she replied with irritating -gentleness. “I married him in accordance with the law of the land.” - -“But you were already married--that you have found out; so your marriage -was no marriage.” - -“I agree with you--my marriage with Marcus Blaydon was no marriage.” - -“It was a marriage, celebrated in the house of God, by a priest of God, -that made it a marriage--sacred; and yet you----” - -“Sacred? Sacred? Mr. Possnett, do not be so foolish, I beg of you. Don’t -be so--so profane. Surely the sacredness of marriage does not begin and -end with the form of words spoken in the church. Surely it is on account -of its spiritual impulses that a marriage, the foundation of which is -love, is sacred. A marriage is made sacred by the existence of a mutual -love, and by that only. Is not that the truth?” - -“I have not come here to-day to discuss with you any quibble, Priscilla. -You know that you can legally have but one husband and----” - -“Ah! I had no idea that you would make such a sudden drop from the -question of the sacredness of marriage to the question of mere legality. -I understood that the Church’s first and only line of defence was the -spirituality of marriage--the sacred symbolism--the mystery. Now you -drop at once to the mundane level of the law--you talk of the legal -marriage. I thank God, Mr. Possnett, that I adopt a higher tone. I elect -to stand on a loftier level than yours. I do not talk of legality, but -of spirituality.” - -“You cannot evade your responsibility by harping on words or phrases, -Priscilla. In any question of marriage one cannot express too rigid an -adherence to what is legal and what is illegal.” - -“In that case, then, surely we shall be able to obtain a divorce in a -court of law----” - -“There is no such thing as divorce.” - -Mr. Possnett had unwittingly walked into the trap laid for his feet by a -young woman who had for years been acquainted with his individual views -respecting the dissolution by a court of law of a marriage celebrated in -a church of God. - -“There is no such thing as divorce,” he said. “I refuse to recognize the -validity of a so-called decree of divorce. I would think it my duty to -refuse to perform the service of marriage between two persons either -of whom had been divorced. Having once said the words, ‘Whom God hath -joined together, let no man put asunder!’” - -“But surely divorce is perfectly legal, Mr. Possnett?” said Priscilla. - -“I care nothing for that.” - -“But you said just now that in all questions of marriage one must be -bound down by what is legal and what is illegal; and now you tell me -that you refuse to be bound down to a legal decree of divorce. Oh, Mr. -Possnett, you cannot blow both hot and cold in the same breath.” - -“In all matters but this--but our Church permits a priest to hold his -own opinion, if it be formed on conscientious grounds. It is not like -the Church of Rome; it recognizes the imperative nature of the call of -religious scruples on the part of an individual priest.” - -“And the Church does well. Let the priest follow the example of his -Church, and recognize the spiritual exigencies of a poor woman who loved -a man and married him in all honesty of purpose and in all good faith.” - -“Talk not to me of such things; the fact remains--the terrible -truth--that man is not your husband. Priscilla, this is, I know, a great -trial; but you know whence it comes. I have taught you ill all these -years if you fail to acknowledge the Hand--the Hand--you know that it -comes from God.” - -“That is the reflection which prevents me from being overwhelmed, Mr. -Possnett. I try to feel that it all comes from God--that it is meant -to try our faith, and I cannot doubt that its effect will be to draw us -closer together, my dear husband and myself--nay, I have felt that it -has done so already. Our faith in each other has been strengthened--it -has indeed.” - -“That is not the object of the trial. Trial is sent to purify the soul, -as gold is tried by fire; the furnace of affliction is meant to cleanse, -not to strengthen one’s persistence in a course of sin.” - -“I have never doubted it, Mr. Possnett, nor can I doubt that -this burden, though it is hard to bear, will but strengthen our -characters--strengthen all those qualities which go to build up into one -life the life of a man and a woman who love each other, and whose faith -in each other has been proved under the stress of adversity.” - -The Reverend Osney Possnett felt that he was now being subjected to a -greater trial of patience than he could bear. Here was this young -woman, the daughter of his own churchwarden, facing him and turning and -twisting his words to suit her own pernicious views! He could almost -fancy that she was mocking him. He could scarcely believe that such a -trial should be included among those of celestial origin. - -“Priscilla, I, your priest, tell you that you are living in sin with -this man who is not your husband, and I command you to forsake this -life and to forsake that man who, I doubt not, has tempted you by the -allurements of a higher position in life than that for which you were -intended by God, to be false to your Church, false to the teaching of -its priest, false to your own better nature. Leave him, Priscilla; leave -him before it is too late!” - -Again she laughed; but this time it was with a different expression. - -“I cannot say ‘_Retro me?_ because I am not resisting any temptation,” - she said. “You have shown that you do not understand in the least how I -feel in regard to my position--you could not possibly understand me if I -were to refer to the church in which you preach as a house of sin.” - -“Priscilla, for God’s sake, pause--pause----” - -“I have not called it a house of sin; God forbid that I should be so -foolish! but it was made the means of my committing the greatest sin -of my life--the abandonment of myself--myself--at the bidding of my -parents. All that has happened since, you have assured me as a delegate, -is to be part of a great trial sent for the purification of my heart, -my soul, whatever you please. Well, I told you that I accepted that view -and that I hoped I should come away from it purified and strengthened. -But I cannot get away altogether from the thought that perhaps it may -be a judgment on myself for being untrue to myself when I entered your -church at the bidding of my father and my mother to say words that I -knew to be false--that they knew to be false--to make promises that I -knew it would be a crime to keep.” - -“I care nothing about that, Priscilla. All that concerns me is that -you were joined to a man according to the rites of the Holy Church, and -that, he being still alive you are now wife to him and to no other.” - -“And you would have me now go to him and live with him as his wife -according to God’s holy ordinance, and to keep those promises which I -made in your church?” - -“I solemnly affirm that such is your duty.” - -“You say that, knowing the man, and knowing that he is a criminal--that -he married me to save himself from the consequences of his crime--you -can tell me that I should worship him with my body, that I should love, -honour, and obey him till death us do part? Knowing that I have never -had any love for him, you tell me that my place is by his side?” - -“Your place is by his side. The words of the Prayer-book are there; no -Christian priest has any option in the matter. The mystic words have -been said. ‘The twain shall be one flesh.’” - -“Ah, there is the difference between us--the flesh. You will insist -on looking at the fleshly side of marriage, whereas I look on the -spiritual. Don’t you think that there may be something to be said in -favour of the spiritual aspect of marriage--the marriage voice which -says, not, ‘The twain shall be one flesh,’ but ‘The twain shall be one -spirit’? What, Mr. Possnett, will you say that marriage is solely a -condition of the flesh?” - -“I refuse to answer any question put to me in this spirit by a woman who -is living in sin with a man who is not her husband.” - -“You will admit that the trial to which I have been subjected has -influenced me for good--making me patient and forbearing in the face -of a repeated insult such as I would not have tolerated from any human -being a week ago. I have listened to you, and I have even brought myself -to pay you the compliment of discussing with you a matter which concerns -only my husband and myself, but you have not even thought it worth your -while to be polite to me--to treat me as an erring sister. You come with -open insults--with an assumption of authority--to pronounce one thing -sin and another thing duty. But your authority is a mockery--as great a -mockery as the enquiry in the marriage service, ‘Who giveth this woman -to be married to this man?’ when you know that the pew-cleaner will be -accepted by the priest as the one who possesses that authority. Your -authority is a mockery, and your counsel is worth no more than that -of any other man of some education, of abilities which have the lowest -market value of those required for any profession, and experiences of -the most limited character.” - -“Woman--Priscilla, you forget yourself!” - -The Reverend Osney Possnett, who had never had a chance in his life -of reaching a point of declamation beyond what was necessary for the -adequate reproof of a ploughman for neglecting to attend Divine service, -and who had never been addressed except with respect bordering upon awe -since the days of his curacy, found himself in a mental condition for -which the word flabbergasted was invented by a philologist in the lumber -trade. When he had told Priscilla that she was forgetting herself he -forgot himself. He forgot his part. He had come to the Manor House, on -the invitation of his churchwarden, Farmer Wadhurst, to administer a -severe rebuke to Farmer Wadhurst’s self-willed daughter, whose early -religious instruction he had superintended, and who, he saw no reason -to doubt, would be at once amenable to his ministration; but he found -himself forced not only to enter into something of an argument with -her--a course of action which was very distasteful to him--but also -to be reproved by her for a sensualist, looking at the fleshly side of -marriage instead of the spiritual--to be told by her that his opinion -was of no greater value than that of an ordinary man who had never been -granted the distinction of holy orders, which the whole world recognizes -as a proof of the possession of the highest culture, pagan as well as -Christian, the most virile human intellect, and an intuitive knowledge -of mankind, such as ordinary people can only gain by experience! - -He had come to be letter-perfect in the part which he had meant to play -in her presence, and with a good working knowledge of the “business” of -the part; but she had failed to act up to him. She had disregarded the -cues which he waited for from her, and the result was naturally the -confusion that now confronted him--that now overwhelmed him. He had in -his mind actually, if unconsciously, the feeling that it was her failure -in regard to her cues which had put him out, when he cried: - -“Priscilla, you forget yourself.” - -“No, you do not quite mean that,” she said, with a disconcerting -readiness; “you do not quite mean that; you mean that I forget that -for years I sat Sunday after Sunday under your pulpit listening to your -preaching--that for years and years you gave your opinion, which was -followed without question, to my father and mother on the subject of -my bringing up; that until now I was submissive to you, with all the -members of the household. That is what you had on your mind just now, -and I do not wonder at it. I have amazed you. I don’t doubt it; I have -amazed myself. The troubles which I have had during the past eighteen -months--you call them trials, and that is the right word--have been the -means of showing me myself--showing me what I am as an individual: that -I am not merely as a single grain of sand running down with a million -other grains in the hour-glass only to mark time till the whole are -swallowed up. I thank God for those trials which have made me what I am -to-day. I can even thank God for the present trial, terrible though it -seems, because I have faith in God’s way of working to bring out all -that is best in man and woman; and I know that we shall come out of -it with our love for each other strengthened and our belief in God -strengthened. That is what you forgot when you came here to-day, Mr. -Possnett; you forgot the power that there is in suffering to develop -the character, the nature, the individuality, the human feeling and the -Divine love of every one who experiences it. That was your mistake: you -did not make allowance for God’s purpose in suffering. You thought that -I should be the same to-day that I was eighteen months ago. You have -much to learn, both of God and man, Mr. Possnett. So have I. I am -learning daily.” - -The Reverend Osney Possnett lifted up his hands--the attitude was that -of Moses blessing the congregation; but by a sudden increase of emphasis -and a tightening of the hands into fists it became the attitude of Balak -the son of Zippor reproving Balaam the Prophet for having betrayed the -confidence reposed in him as an agent of commination. He was not a man -of any intelligence worth speaking of, and with so limited an experience -of the world that the least departure from the usual found him without -resources for meeting it. Such men are unwise if they make the attempt -to play the usual against the unusual. They are wisest in avoiding it. - -The Reverend Osney Possnett showed that he was not without wisdom by his -retreat. Sorrow and not indignation was the lubricant of his farewell. -His prayer was that she might be brought to see in what direction the -truth lay before it should be too late. - -And that was just the prayer to which Priscilla could say “Amen!” with -all her heart. - - - - -CHAPTER XXXI - -Two days later the papers were full of the news of the reappearance of -Marcus Blaydon. - -Jack Wingfield had been very impatient of the delay. Every morning that -he opened the newspapers, and drew them blank, he swore at the man. What -the mischief was he waiting for? Was he such an idiot as to fancy that -he, Jack Wingfield, was likely to give a more promising reply to his -demands than he had already given him? Did he hope to gain anything by -merely menacing him in regard to the publication of his story? - -Priscilla was clever enough to see that the man had hoped much from the -visit which her father had paid her, and perhaps even more from that of -the Vicar of Athalsdean. She felt sure that she saw what was the sort of -game he meant to play when he returned to England. He had meant to try -the familiar game of blackmail in the first instance, being idiot enough -to think that Priscilla would jump at the chance of being allowed to -pay over some thousands of pounds for his promise to clear out of -the country and tell no human being that he was her husband. Failing, -however, to convince her or Wingfield that their position would be to -any extent improved by the acceptance of his terms, he had gone to -her father, knowing that he had a sheet-anchor in the enormous -respectability of Farmer Wadhurst. He did not want Priscilla--if he -had wanted her he would have hurried to her the moment he found himself -free, if only to tell her that he meant to start life afresh, in order -that he might win her love and redeem the past--no; he did not want -her; but he was well aware of the fact that her father was a moderately -wealthy man, and that Priscilla was his only child. These were the -possibilities that appealed to him. Perhaps the father might show his -readiness to pay a respectable price for the preservation untarnished -of the respectability of the family; but failing that, he might still be -able to make a good thing out of the connection, for his father-in-law -would stand by him, could he be made to see that it would be for the -good of the family to stand by him. But her father’s mission and the -mission of the Reverend Osney Possnett having failed, the man had no -further reason for delay in making public the romantic incidents in -which he had taken a prominent part. - -These represented the surmises of Priscilla and Jack, and they were -not erroneous in substance, though in some particulars not absolutely -accurate, as they afterwards found out. - -What Jack confessed his inability to account for was the flight of the -man across the Atlantic, when he had such good prospects opening -before him as the husband of Priscilla, the daughter of that prosperous -agriculturist, Mr. Wadhurst. To be sure, it was just on this point that -he had allowed his imagination some play when he had that conversation -with Marcus Blaydon. He had suggested that the fellow had gone across -the Atlantic in order to be with some woman whom he had known -before; but Jack was scarcely inclined to give the man credit for a -disinterested attachment such as this, when he had such good prospects -at home as the lawful husband of a beautiful young woman, whose society -(post-nuptial) he had had but a very restricted opportunity of enjoying. - -That was a matter which, he saw, required some explanation; but he felt -sure that the explanation would come in good time; and it would be his, -Jack Wingfield’s, aim to expedite its arrival; and he knew that the -success of the nullity suit depended on his finding out all about that -unaccountable attachment which had forced a mercenary trickster into an -unaccountable position. - -But here were the newspapers at last containing the information that -Marcus Blaydon, who had been placed in the early part of the summer -in the forefront of the rank of maritime heroes--by far the most -picturesque of all heroic phalanxes--had returned to England, none the -less a hero because he had by a miracle (described in detail) escaped -the consequences of his heroism; and engaged--also without prejudice to -the claims made on his behalf when his name was last before the eyes -of the public--in the discharge of a duty so painful as to cause him to -feel that it would have been better if he had perished among the rocks -where he had lain insensible for many hours after doing his best to -rescue his messmates from a watery grave, than to have survived that -terrible night. - -That is what the announcements in some of the newspapers came to. But -they had the tone of the preliminary announcements of a matter which is -supposed to contain certain elements of interest to the public later -on, if the public will only have the kindness to keep an eye upon the -papers. Some of the phrases--including that important one about the -“watery grave,” appeared in all the accounts of the matter; but in a -few cases the news did not occupy a greater space than an ordinary -paragraph, while in others the attention of casual readers was drawn -to it by the adventitious aid of some startling headlines--two of -these introducing the name of Enoch Arden. Not once, however, in any -newspaper, was the name of Mr. Wingfield introduced. - -“They read like a rangefinder,” remarked Mr. Wingfield, when he had -gone through every line of the paragraphs. “That is what the fellow is -doing--he is trying to find out our position.” - -But there was no need for the invention of such a theory to account for -the guarded omissions in the paragraphs, the truth being simply that the -professional correspondent of the Press agency who had handled the item -understood his business. He had no wish to drag the name of a member of -Parliament into a piece of news offered to him by a man whose trial -for embezzlement he had attended professionally the previous year. -In addition, he perceived how it was possible for him to nurse the -information, if it stood the test of enquiry, until it should yield to -him a small fortune. He understood his business, and his business was to -understand the palate of newspaper readers. - -And that was how it came that Mr. Wingfield was waited on by a -well-dressed and very polite literary gentleman that same day, and -invited to make any statement which he would have no objection to read -in print the next morning on the subject of the return of the heroic -Marcus Blaydon. - -“The man told you, I suppose, that his trying mission to England was to -claim the lady from whom he was parted at the church door after their -marriage, and whom I married a short time ago,” said Mr. Wingfield, M.P. - -“That is the substance of the statement which he made to me yesterday, -sir,” said his visitor. “I hesitated to transmit it to my agency at -London, not wishing, on the authority of a man of his antecedents, even -though endorsed by Mr. Wadhurst, to publish a single line that might -possibly--possibly----” - -“Be made the subject of a libel action--is that what is on your mind?” - said Mr. Wingfield. - -“Of course--but in the back of my mind, Mr. Wingfield,” replied -the other. “What I was really anxious to avoid was saying anything -calculated to give pain to----” - -“I appreciate your consideration,” said Jack pleasantly; “but I know -that omelettes cannot be made without breaking eggs.” - -“Yes, sir; but I should like to avoid a bad egg.” - -“Then you would do well to avoid Marcus Blaydon.” - -The gentleman laughed, and shook his head. - -“A bad egg, beyond doubt, Mr. Wingfield; but good enough for some -culinary operations,” said the skilful paragraphist. “It is true, then, -that he was really married to the lady whom you subsequently--” Jack saw -the word “espoused” trembling on his lips, and he hastened to save him -from the remorse which he would be certain to feel when he should awaken -at nights, and remember that he had employed that word solely to save -his repeating the word “married.” - -“I believe that to be the truth,” he said at once. “The man came here -and claimed the lady as his wife, but she declined to admit his claim, -pending the result of her appeal to the proper quarter for the annulment -of her marriage with him.” - -The gentleman whipped out his note-book in a moment, and made with -the rapidity of lightning some hundreds of outline drawings of gulls -flying, and miniature arches, and many-toed crabs, and trophies of -antlers, interspersed with dots and monkeys’ tails, variously twisted, -and Imperial moustaches similarly treated. - -“Mrs.--Wingfield--” the gentleman had infinite tact and taste--“Mrs. -Wingfield is making such an application? Messrs. Liscomb and Liscomb, I -suppose?” - -“Messrs. Liscomb and Liscomb.” - -“With Sir Edward retained, of course?” - -“With Sir Edward. You seem pretty well acquainted with the procedure.” - -The gentleman smiled. - -“I have been connected with the Press for fifteen years, sir,” he said. -“May I ask one more question, Mr. Wingfield? Is it the intention of -the--of Mrs. Wingfield to remain at the Manor House pending the result -of the litigation?” - -“You may take it from me that she will run no risks,” said Jack. “She -will not change her present domicile for any other, so long as Marcus -Blaydon remains out of gaol.” - -The visitor made some more lightning drawings in outline, and then -became thoughtful. - -“May I venture to express the hope that Mrs. Wingfield is in good -health, sir?” he said--“in good health, and confident of the result -of her application for a pronouncement of nullity?” he added, after a -hesitating moment. - -“She is in excellent health and spirits, thank you,” replied Jack. “Of -course, in matters of law one must always expect delay, and in such a -point as that upon which we await a decision, it is natural that one -should become impatient. However, we know that there is nothing for it -but to sit tight for a month or two.” - -“I’m extremely obliged to you for this interview, Mr. Wingfield,” said -the gentleman, turning over a new leaf of his note-book, and looking -up with his pencil ready. “Now, if there is anything whatever that you -would like to be made public in this connection----” - -“I don’t know that I have anything in my mind beyond what I have just -told you,” said Mr. Wingfield. “Of course, you can easily understand -that we would greatly prefer that nothing should appear in the -newspapers about us or our lawsuits until they are actually before the -courts, but we know that that would be to expect too much.” - -“If I am not taking too great a liberty, sir, I would say that, -unpleasant though it may appear from some standpoints to have the -particulars published, you will find that in the long run it will be -advantageous to you. Public sympathy is better to have with one than -against one.” - -“I suppose it is second only to having the law on one’s side.” - -“Public sympathy is superior to the law, Mr. Wingfield; and they are -beginning to find that out on the other side of the Atlantic. This case -is certain to attract a large amount of attention. You see, we are just -entering on the month of August. Upon my word, I shouldn’t wonder if it -became the Topic of the Autumn--I shouldn’t indeed, Mr. Wingfield. Well, -I’m extremely obliged to you, sir; and I won’t take up any more of your -time. Good morning.” - -“Good morning. Any time that you want any information that you think I -can give you, don’t hesitate to come to me.” - -“You are very kind, sir. I should be sorry to intrude.” - -So the representative of the Press went his ways, congratulating himself -on having, after a Diogenes-search lasting, for several years, come upon -a sensible man and a straightforward man, devoid of frills. Most men who -had attained, by the exertions of their forefathers, to the position of -landed proprietors, he had found to be not easy to approach on matters -which they called private matters, but which newspaper men called public -matters. Mr. Wingfield, however, so far from resenting an interview on a -subject which required to be handled with extreme delicacy, had actually -given him encouragement to repeat his visit. - -He was determined that Mr. Wingfield and the cause which he had at heart -should not suffer by his display of a most unusual courtesy. - -The next day all England was discussing the case of the new Enoch Arden. -They would have discussed the case throughout the length and breadth of -the land simply on account of the romantic elements that it contained, -even if the lady who played so important a part in it had been an -ordinary young person; but as she was a lady whose achievements during -the last byelection had been directly under the eye of the public, the -interest in the romance was immeasurably increased. The representative -of the Press agency who had the handling of the story from the first, -had not found it necessary to embellish in any way the account of his -interview with Marcus Blaydon in the morning or with Mr. Wingfield in -the afternoon. After alluding to the mystery suggested by Mr. Blaydon’s -remark, published in connection with his reappearance in the land of the -living the previous day, he described how he had waited upon Mr. Blaydon -to try to convince him that the painful matters which had necessitated -his making a voyage to England could scarcely fail to be of interest to -newspaper readers; and how he had succeeded in convincing Mr. Blaydon -of the correctness of his contention. Mr. Blaydon had then described the -incidents associated with his escape from destruction; how he had been -cast upon the rocks in his attempt to carry a line ashore, and how -he had lain there for some days, with practically nothing to eat, and -apparently suffering from such internal injuries as prevented him from -reaching the house where those of his messmates who had survived the -terrible night were being so hospitably treated. - -Then, according to his own account, it occurred to Mr. Blaydon that the -chance of his life had come--such a chance as comes but too rarely to -an unfortunate man who has acted foolishly, but is anxious to redeem -the past--the chance of beginning life over again. He was well aware, -he said, that he would be reported as dead, and that was just what he -wished for: to be dead to all the world, so that he might have another -chance of succeeding in life without being handicapped by his unhappy -past. - -So Mr. Blaydon’s story went on, telling how he had just made a start in -this new life of his, when by chance he came upon an English newspaper, -referring to the fact that the gentleman who had agreed to contest the -Nuttingford division of Nethershire at the by-election had just married -the daughter of Mr. Wadhurst of Athalsdean Farm. Then, and only then, -did he, the narrator, perceive that he would have acted more wisely -if he had written to the lady who believed herself to be his widow, -apprising her of the fact of his being alive, and endeavouring to make -for himself a name that she might bear without a blush. (Mr. Blaydon -was well acquainted, it appeared, with the phraseology of the repentant -sinner of the Drury Lane autumn drama.) - -“What was my duty when I heard that my wife had gone through the -ceremony of marriage with another man?” That was the question which -perplexed Mr. Blaydon, as a conscientious man anxious not to diverge a -hair’s breadth from the line of Duty--strict duty. Well, perhaps some -people might blame him; but he confessed that the thought of his dear -wife--the girl whom he had wooed and won very little more than a year -before--going to another man and living with him believing herself to be -his wife, was too much for him. He made up his mind that so shocking a -situation could not be allowed to continue, and he had made his way back -to her side, only, alas! to be repulsed and turned out of her house with -contempt, though the fact that her father had received him with the open -arms of a father in welcoming the return of the prodigal, proved that -even in these days, etc., etc. - -Stripped of all emotional verbiage, Mr. Blaydon’s statements simply -amounted to a declaration of his intention to apply to the court to make -an order to restore to him his conjugal rights in respect of the lady -who was incontestably his lawful wife. - -Following this was the account of an interview with Mr. Wingfield, M.P., -who, it appeared, had already taken action in the matter on behalf -of the lady referred to by Mr. Blaydon. The interviewer succeeded in -conveying to a reader something of what he termed the “breezy colloquial -style” of Mr. Wingfield, in the latter’s references to the Enoch -Ardenism of Mr. Blaydon; but very little appeared in the account of the -interview that had not actually taken place at the interview itself. -Readers of the newspapers were made fully acquainted with the fact that -Messrs. Liscomb and Liscomb had already made a move in the case, and -that the invaluable services of Sir Edward had been retained for the -lady, and also that the lady was living at Overdean Manor House, which -chanced to be the residence of Mr. Wingfield, M.P., and that it was -her intention to remain there for a period that was not defined by the -writer. He refrained from even the suggestion that the period might be -“till the case is decided by the court.” - -The remainder of the column was occupied by a pleasant description of -Overdean Manor Park in early August, with a quotation from the “Highways -and Byways” series, and a brief account of the Wingfield family. - -Of course, in addition to these particulars which appeared in most of -the newspapers, the illustrated dailies contained a reproduction of the -recently-used “blocks” of Mr. and Mrs. Wingfield on their now celebrated -election campaign, as well as some entirely new photographs of the Manor -House, and Athalsdean Farm, the birthplace of “Mrs. Wingfield”--nearly -all the newspapers referred to Priscilla as Mrs. Wingfield, inside -quotation marks; but three or four omitted the quotation marks, and an -equal number, who were sticklers for strict accuracy, called her Mrs. -Blaydon, though one of them half apologised for its accuracy by adding -“as we suppose we must call the unfortunate lady.” - -The comments on the romantic features of the case which were to be read -in different type in the columns devoted to the leading articles, were -all of that character which is usually described as “guarded.” The -writers excused their want of definiteness on the ground that it would -be grossly improper for anyone to offer such a comment as might tend to -prejudice a judge or jury in the suits which would occupy the attention -of the law courts during the Michaelmas sittings. It was quite enough -for the writers to point out some of the remarkable features of the -whole romance, beginning with the arrest of Marcus Blaydon when in the -act of leaving the church where the wedding had taken place--most of the -articles dealt very tenderly with this episode--and going on to refer -to the impression produced on the court by the appeal for mercy to the -judge made by Marcus Blay-don’s counsel on the ground of his recent -marriage to a charming and accomplished girl to whom he was devoted, -and who would certainly suffer far more than the prisoner himself by his -incarceration--an appeal which the judge admitted had influenced him in -pronouncing his very mild sentence of imprisonment. - -These were some of the nasty bits of publicity which Jack Wingfield had -foreseen. Priscilla had reddened a good deal reading them, but she had -not shrunk from their perusal. She accepted everything as part of the -ordeal which she had to face. She even smiled when, a few days later, -there appeared in one of the papers a letter signed “A Dissatisfied -Elector,” affirming that, as the election for the Nuttingford division -had to all intents and purposes been won for Mr. John Wingfield by a -lady who was not his lawful wife, the seat should be declared vacant. - -Jack also smiled--after an interval--and threw the paper into the basket -reserved for such rubbish. - - - - -CHAPTER XXXII - -And then began the persecution which everyone must expect who is -unfortunate enough to attain to a position of fame or its modern -equivalent, notoriety. - -The month was August, and no war worth the salary of a special -correspondent was going on, so the newspapers were only too pleased to -open their columns to the communications of the usual autumnal faddists, -and the greatest of these is the marriage faddist. “The Curious -Case” formed the comprehensive heading to a daily page in one paper, -containing letter after letter, from “A Spinster,” “One Who Was -Deceived,” “Once Bitten Twice Shy,” “True Marriage,” “I Forbid the -Banns,” and the rest of them. Without actually commenting on the case, -these distinguished writers pointed out day by day how the various -points in the curious case of Marcus Blaydon and Priscilla Wadhurst bore -out the various contentions of the various faddists. Now this would not -have mattered so much but for the fact that it was the most ridiculous -of these letters which, after a column’s advocacy of the principles -of free love or some other form of profligacy, such as the “Spiritual -Union,” or the “Soul to Soul” wedding, invariably wound up by a -declaration that “all honour should be given to that brave little woman, -who has thrown in her lot with the man she loves, to stand or fall by -the principles which she has so fearlessly advocated”--these principles -being, of course, the very principles whose enunciation formed the -foundation of the ridiculous letter. - -The most senseless of all these letters was signed “Two Souls with but -a Single Thought;” and the superscription seemed an appropriate one, -for the writers did not seem to have more than a single thought between -them, and this one was erroneous. - -Of course, after a time Priscilla became almost reconciled to the -position of being the Topic of the holiday season, though earlier -she found it very hard to bear. At first she had boldly faced the -newspapers; but soon she found that the thought of what she had read -during the day was interfering with her rest at night. She quickly -became aware of the fact that persecution is hydra-headed, and every -heading is in large capitals. She made up her mind that she would never -open another newspaper, and it was as well that she adhered to this -resolution; for after some days the American organs, as yellow as -jaundice and as nasty, began to arrive, and Jack saw that they were -quite dreadful. They commented freely upon the “case,” being outside -the jurisdiction of the English courts, and they commented largely upon -incidents which they themselves had invented to bear out their own very -frankly expressed views regarding the shameless profligacy of the landed -gentry of England, and the steadily increasing immorality of the English -House of Commons. On the showing of these newspapers, Mr. John Wingfield -was typical of both; he had succeeded in combining the profligacy of -the one with the immorality of the other; and he certainly could not but -admit that the stories of his life which they invented and offered to -their readers, fully bore out their contention, that, if the public life -of the States was a whirlpool, that of England was a cesspool. - -It was only natural that the accredited representative of so much -old-world iniquity should feel rather acutely the responsibilities -of the position to which he was assigned; but he had been through the -States more than once and he had also been in the Malay Archipelago, -and had found how closely assimilated were the offensive elements in -the weapons of the two countries. The stinkpot of the Malays had its -equivalent in the Yellow Press of the United States; but neither of the -two did much actual harm to the person against whom they were directed. -If a man has only enough strength of mind to disregard the stinkpot -he does not find himself greatly demoralised by his experience of its -nastiness, and if he only ignores the “pus” of the Yellow Press no one -else will pay any attention to its discharges. - -He burned the papers, having taken care that Priscilla never had a -chance of looking at any one of the batch. He was in no way sensitive; -but now and again he felt tempted to rush off with Priscilla to some -place where they could escape for ever from this horror of publicity -which was besetting them. He did not mind being made the subject of -leading articles, if it was his incapacity as an orator or his ignorance -of the political standpoint that was being assailed; but this intrusion -upon his private life was as distasteful to him as it would be for -anyone to see one’s dressing-room operations made the subject of a -cinematograph display. - -How could he feel otherwise, when almost daily he could espy -strangers--men with knapsacks and women with veils (mostly green), -all of them carrying walking sticks--coming halfway up the avenue and -exchanging opinions as to the best point from which the house could be -snapshotted? Such strangers were no more infrequent than the visits of -men on motors--all sorts of motors, from the obsolete tri-car to the 60 -h.p. F.I.A.T. He was obliged to give orders at the lodge gates that on -no pretence was a motor to be allowed to pass on to the avenue, and that -bicycling strangers, as well as pedestrians with kodaks, were also to be -excluded. But in spite of these orders, scarcely a day went by without -bringing a contingent of outsiders to the park; he believed that -excursion trains were run to Framsby solely to give the curious a chance -of catching a glimpse of the lady who figured as the heroine of “The -Curious Case” column of the great daily paper. - -But as far as Framsby itself was concerned, it did not contribute -largely to the material of the nuisance. The truth was that the “sets” - of Framsby, who had for some days made the road to the Manor suggest a -picture of the retreat of the French from Moscow, owing to their -anxiety to leave cards upon the young couple, now stood aghast at the -information conveyed to them by the newspapers that Mrs. Jack Wingfield -was not really Mrs. Jack Wingfield. They stood aghast, and held up -their hands as if they were obeying the imperative order of a highwayman -rather than the righteous impulse of outraged propriety. Some of them, -who, through the strain put upon the livery stables, had been compelled -to postpone their visit until a more convenient season, now affirmed -that they had had their doubts respecting the marriage all along. There -was some consultation among the “sets” as to the possibility of having -their visits cancelled, as now and again a presentation at Court was -cancelled. Would it not be possible to get back their cards? they -wondered. The baser sort had thoughts of sending in the livery stables -bill to Mr. Jack Wingfield. - -But before a fortnight had passed it became plain to Jack and Priscilla -that they were not going to remain without sympathetic visitors. -Priscilla got a letter from Mrs. Bowlby-Sutherst--a vivacious letter, -and a delightfully worldly one into the bargain. The writer stated her -intention of coming to lunch at the Manor House the next day, and of -bringing a fire escape with her to allow of her getting in by one of the -windows if she were refused admission by the door. And when she came and -was admitted without the need for the display of any ingenuity on her -part, she proved a most amusing visitor, showing no reticence whatever -in regard to the “case,” and ridiculing the claims of Marcus Blaydon to -conjugal rights, after the way he had behaved. Of course everyone with -any sense acknowledged, she affirmed, that the marriage was between Jack -and Priscilla. - -When she had gone away Priscilla wondered if there was anything in what -she had said on this point; and Jack replied that he was afraid that -Mrs. Bowlby-Sutherst was too notorious as a patron of notoriety for her -opinion to have much weight. But as things turned out, that was -just where he was wrong, for within the week several other ladies of -considerable importance--county importance--called at the Manor, and -were admitted. These were people who owned London houses and had a -premonition that next season Mrs. Wingfield--they were sure that -she would be Mrs. Wingfield by then--would be looked on as the most -interesting figure in the world of drawing-rooms; and Priscilla found -them very nice indeed, referring to her “case” as if it were one of the -most amusing jests of the autumn season. They showed no reluctance in -talking about its funniest features--its funniest features were just -those which a rigid disciplinarian would have called its most serious -features--and they promised faithfully that when she should appear in -the court they would be present to offer her their support--their moral -support. They seemed quite downhearted when she explained to them how -it was her hope that the arbitrament of the Divorce Division would be -avoided by a decree of a judge on the question of nullity. They had -quite set their hearts on the Divorce Court, and had in their eye -a toilet scheme which they felt sure would be in sympathy with the -_entourage_ of that apartment, and to which they thought they might be -trusted to do justice. - -But as the social position of these visitors was among the highest in -the county, Priscilla began to feel that there was no chance of her -becoming isolated even at the Manor House. The reasonableness of her -attitude appealed, she saw, to some reasonable people. She had great -hopes that it would appeal as well to one or more of His Majesty’s -judges when the time came. - -And she was not neglected by her dear friend Rosa Cafifyn; but this -young woman came to her unaccompanied by her mother. The Caffyn -household was divided against itself on this vexed subject of -Priscilla’s attitude. Mrs. Caffyn, who had never encouraged her -daughter’s friendship for Priscilla Wadhurst, was aghast at the -publicity which her daughter’s friend had achieved. - -“She was always getting herself talked about,” she remarked. “First -there was that affair with the prince; everyone was talking about her -speaking to him in French--in French, mind--for more than an hour.” - (Mrs. Caffyn seemed to have acquired the impression that a conversation -in French could scarcely fail to possess some of the elements of the -dialogue in a French vaudeville, and she had heard enough about that -form of composition to make her distrustful of its improving qualities.) -“And then,” she went on, “there came all that horrid business about her -marriage--the arrest of the man, you know, and all that. The next thing -was the trial, where her name was mentioned in the hearing of all the -common people--witnesses and people of that class--in the court. Later -on there was the heroic drowning of the man, and then her marriage to -Mr. Wingfield within a few months, and the electioneering business--I -really think that she should have been more discreet than to get herself -talked about so frequently. As for her present escapade, I can only say -that it seems to me to be the crowning indiscretion of her life.” - -But the Reverend Mr. Caffyn, who had been talking to his patroness, Mrs. -Bowlby-Sutherst, about Priscilla, was disposed to take the view of an -easy-going looker-on at the world and its ways from a lesser altitude -than that of his pulpit; and he smiled at Priscilla’s resolution to -remain at the Manor. He did not think that it mattered much just then. -Had she not married young Wingfield in good faith, and had they not been -going about together ever since? he asked. He had in his mind, though -his wife did not know it, the saying of the wicked witty Frenchwoman -who had accepted the legend of the King’s making quite a promenade when -deprived of his head, on the plea that, after all “_c’est le premier pas -qui coûte_.” And so his daughter had no hesitation in paying her visit to -the Manor. - -It was when she was going through the gates that she recollected how -Priscilla had talked to her upon that morning long ago at this same -place. What had she said? Was it not that if she were to love a man -truly she would not allow any considerations of morality or any other -convention to keep her apart from him? - -Rosa wondered if there really was anything in the theory which was held -by some people, to the effect that sometimes a judgment followed -hard upon the utterance of a thoughtless phrase. She wondered if the -publicity in which Priscilla was now moving had been sent to her as a -punishment for her impulsive words. - -Perhaps it was the atmospheric envelope, so to speak, of this thought -which remained hanging about her in the house and prevented her visit -to her dear friend from being all that she expected it to be. It was of -course a delightful reunion; but somehow Priscilla did not seem to be -just the same as she had been long ago. - -With these variations of visitors and with plenty to occupy her mind and -her hands Priscilla found the weeks to go by rapidly enough. She took -care to be constantly occupied, by undertaking the reorganization of -the dairy in connection with the home farm, and she had no difficulty -in reviving Jack’s interest in the scheme for introducing electric -power for the lighting of the house and for the lightening of labour in -whatever department of the household labour was employed. An expert on -dynamos was summoned from Manchester, and his opinion bore out all that -Priscilla had said to Jack on this interesting enterprise; and before a -fortnight had passed the details of the scheme had been decided on and -estimates were being prepared for the carrying out of the work. - -In addition to her obvious duties Priscilla was making herself -indispensable to Jack’s mother in her long and tedious illness, reading -to her and sitting with her for hours every day. It was, however, when -Jack was alone with his mother one evening that she laid her hand on -his, saying: - -“My dear boy, I had my fears at one time for the step you were taking; -but now I can only thank you with all my heart for having given me a -daughter after my own heart. I have, as you know, always longed for a -daughter, and my longing is now fulfilled with a completeness that I -never looked for. She is the best woman in the world, Jack--the best -woman for you.” - -“I hope that I shall be able to make her as happy as she has made me,” - said he. - -“Ah, that is the very point on which I wished to speak to you,” said the -mother. “I wonder if you have noticed---if you have thought that she is -quite as happy as we could wish her to be. A shadow--no, not quite so -much as a shadow, but still something--have I been alone in noticing -it?--something like a shadow upon her now and then.” - -Jack was slightly startled. He had taken good care that no newspaper -containing an allusion to the “curious case” which was exciting the -attention of all England and calling for immediate attention on the -other side of the Atlantic as well, should get into his mother’s hands; -but now that she was approaching convalescence, he knew that however -vigilant he might be in this respect, an unlucky chance would make her -aware of all that had happened since the beginning of the attack that -had prostrated her. He had been living in dread of such a catastrophe -all the previous week, and now he perceived that it was imminent. -Priscilla had not been able to play her part so perfectly as to prevent -the quick feeling--the motherly apprehension--of the elder lady from -suggesting something to her. - -“It would be the worst day of my life if any cloud were to come over her -path,” he said. “I hope that if anything of the sort were to happen, -it would only be a temporary thing--something that we should look back -upon, wondering that it should ever have disturbed our peace.” - -“What!” she cried. “You have noticed it?--there is something!--you know -what it is?” - -“Oh, yes,” he said, with an affectation of carelessness “there has -been something--a trifle really--nothing of the nature of a difference -between Priscilla and myself, but----” - -“I am glad you can assure me of that--that it is not the result of any -difference between you,” said she. “I know that the first few months of -married life are usually the most trying to both the man and the woman; -but you can assure me that it is not----” - -“I can give you such an assurance,” he replied. “There has not been -so much as a suspicion of difference between us in thought since she -entered this house--in fact, since she became my wife.” - -“What is the matter, then? May I not know, Jack? Don’t tell me if it is -anything which concerns Priscilla and you only.” - -“Dearest mother, there is nothing that can concern us without being a -matter of concern to you. Still, this one thing--of course you must know -it; but what I am afraid of is that you will attach too much importance -to it--that you will not see how it may be easily cleared away.” - -“You will tell me all about it, Jack, and I promise you not to think of -it except in the way you say I should.” - -“It really is quite a simple thing--five minutes should clear it away -for ever; and so far from its standing between Priscilla and myself, it -will, I am sure, only draw us closer to each other.” - -He was not an adept in the art of “breaking it gently”; he had never had -need to practise it. He felt that this, his first attempt, was but an -indifferent success; he could see that so far from soothing her, his -preliminary ambling around the subject was exciting her. And yet he -feared to come out with a bare statement of the facts. He was snipping -the end off a cigar; somehow he was clumsy over the operation; he could -not understand why until he found that he was trying to force into the -chamfered cutter the wrong end. - -And his mother was noticing his confusion and becoming unduly excited. - -Fortunately at this moment Priscilla entered the room--it was Mrs. -Wingfield’s boudoir, a pretty apartment for an invalid, the windows -overlooking a garden of roses. Never did Jack so welcome her approach. -The moment she passed the door she knew what was before her. - -“Oh, by the way, Priscilla,” said he, “you may as well tell mother just -now all there is to be told about this disagreeable business. I have -said that it is unlikely to take up more than a few minutes of the -judge’s time. You can best do it alone, I know.” - -He bolted. - -His mother smiled, and Priscilla laughed outright; it was so like a -man--each knew that that was just what the other was thinking--“so like -a man!” - -The elder lady’s smile was still on her face when Priscilla said: - -“There’s really very little to be told about this disagreeable affair; -but it must be faced. The fact is that we are applying to a judge to -have my first marriage--that shocking mockery of a marriage--annulled, -and everybody says that there will be no difficulty whatever about it.” - -“I don’t suppose that there should be any difficulty, my dear,” said -Mrs. Wingfield. “But what would be the good of it?” - -“Something has happened which makes it absolutely necessary,” replied -Priscilla. “But it is really the case that what has happened will make -it very much easier for the judge. The wretch who, with a charge of -fraud hanging over him, did not hesitate to make the attempt to involve -me in his ruin, went straight from the gaol to America.” - -Mrs. Wingfield nodded. - -“Don’t trouble yourself, dear,” she said. “I know all the story; it is -not all squalid; you must not forget that he died trying to save the -others.” - -“That was his lie,” cried Priscilla. “He managed to get safely to the -shore and he turned up here trying to get money out of us to buy him -off. Jack showed him the door pretty quickly; so now you can understand -how necessary it is that we should have the marriage nullified. A judge -can do it in five minutes. Jack has been to Liscomb and Liscomb, and -they told him so.” (She was not now giving evidence in a court of law.) -“Oh, yes; they had the opinion of Sir Edward upon it--five minutes! But -in the meantime----” - -“That’s it--in the meantime,” said Mrs. Wingfield slowly. She seemed -trying to think out some point of great difficulty which had presented -itself to her mind. - -“In the meantime,” she repeated. “Am I right, Priscilla, in the meantime -you--you----” - -“In the meantime, my dearest mother, if Jack were to die, and in his -will refer to me as his wife, the judge of the Probate Court would -decide that I should get whatever that will left to me. Is there anyone -who will say that I am not Jack’s wife? You will not say it, and you are -Jack’s mother.” - -“I certainly will not say it, Priscilla; but still--there are some who -would say it, and--in the meantime--oh, it is terrible! my poor child; -it is no wonder that there was a shadow cast upon your life. What you -must have suffered--what you must still suffer! and how bravely you bore -your burden in front of me!” - -Priscilla had flung herself on her knees beside the sofa, and put her -face down to the cushion on which the mother’s head was resting; but her -tears were not bitter, and her sobs were soft. - -So she lay, her right arm about the shoulders of the other, for a long -time, in complete silence. - -At last she raised her head from the cushion, and then bowed it down to -the pale face that was there until their tears mingled. - -“I know what you are thinking, dearest,” she whispered. “You are -thinking that in the meantime I should not be in this house. Is not -that so? Oh, I knew that that was your thought; but it will not be your -thought when I tell you that....” - -Her whisper dwindled away into nothing--it was not louder than the -breathing of a baby when asleep. - -But the elder woman caught every word. She gave a little cry of -happiness, and held Jack’s wife close to her, kissing her again and -again. - -“Dearest,” she said, “you are right; your place is here--here--in the -meantime.” - - - - -CHAPTER XXXIII - -In spite of the very good case which Priscilla had made out for herself -to Jack’s mother, without deviating from strict accuracy more widely -than could easily be pardoned by even the severest moralist, and in -spite also of the still better case which was made out for her by some -of the contributors to that holiday page of the newspapers, she felt -that she had considerable cause for uneasiness as the weeks went by and -Messrs. Liscomb and Liscomb, having returned from Scotland or Homburg, -were busying themselves about the nullity suit. Incidentally, they were -concerned in two very dainty divorce suits and three libel actions which -they hoped to get on the list before Christmas. They let Jack know that -a defence had been entered to the nullity suit by Mr. Marcus Blaydon, so -that the petitioner should not have a walk-over, whatever might happen; -and they urged on Mr. Wingfield the necessity for finding out whether -all that Captain Lyman knew would be in favour of Priscilla or of Marcus -Blaydon. - -It was apparent that what Captain Lyman knew would be an important -factor in the case; but what he did know he had no chance of revealing, -for it seemed as if Captain Lyman was lost. His name was in the registry -of certificated mariners, but it was there as the master of the -barque _Kingsdale_, and the owners of that ill-fated craft, on being -communicated with by Messrs. Liscomb and Liscomb, stated that he was -no longer in their service, nor did they know whose employment he had -entered after the loss of his vessel. During the whole of the month of -August the solicitors had, through their agents, been endeavouring to -trace Lyman, but they had met with no success. The barque _Kingsdale_ -had been owned in Quebec, and he had been seen in that city in the month -of June, but since then his whereabouts had been vague; and the clerk -who was ready to rush off at a moment’s notice in search of him, and to -fathom the mystery of what he knew, began to feel that he stood a very -good chance of being deprived of his excursion. - -Messrs. Liscomb and Liscomb were beginning to write rather grave -letters, They reminded Jack that they had absolutely no evidence to show -that Blaydon had gone away from the English gaol to meet another woman -than his wife; and as this was an important fact to establish both in -the nullity suit and the possible divorce suit, and as, apparently, -no one but Captain Lyman could give evidence on this point--a question -which had not yet been answered--they thought no stone should be left -unturned in order to find him and learn from his own lips what it was -that he knew, and how much of it he did actually know, and whether -his knowledge should take the form of an affidavit, or be carefully -suppressed. - -As a matter of fact Messrs. Liscomb and Liscomb gave Mr. Wingfield to -understand that the success of their case would be seriously jeopardized -unless they could place some evidence before the judge bearing upon the -object of that trip made by Marcus Blaydon across the Atlantic. - -Jack did not question the accuracy of their opinion in this matter; but -what was he to do to provide them with the evidence they required? It -was all very well for them to write about the necessity for leaving no -stone unturned in order to find the extent of Captain Lyman’s knowledge; -but how could he, Jack Wingfield, travel through the world during the -next couple of months, turning over stones to see if Captain Lyman was -concealed beneath one of them? - -He felt greatly disappointed, but he took good care that Priscilla -remained in ignorance of the purport of Messrs. Liscomb and Liscomb’s -letters, and every day made it harder for him to keep her in this -condition. - -One afternoon he drove with her into Framsby, and their carriage stopped -at a shop almost exactly opposite to the Corn Exchange, just when -the frequenters of that institution were standing in groups along the -pavement on the one day of the week when the Exchange was open. Business -had been exceptionally good that day, and most of the farmers and -millers were in a good humour. As soon as the rumour went round that the -handsome lady in the carriage was the daughter of Farmer Wadhurst who -was “standing up for her rights”--that was the _precis_ that reached -them of the “curious case” of the newspaper page--they took off their -hats and gave her a hearty cheer. - -This was not the first time that Priscilla had been so greeted in -Framsby; but such proofs of the position she occupied in the hearts of -the people, though gratifying, when considered from one standpoint, -did not throw the light that was needed upon the question of what stone -would, when turned, reveal the form of Captain Lyman ready to make an -affidavit that should have weight with a judge. So while Priscilla drove -home gratified by the kindly spirit shown by her sympathisers, Jack -could not help feeling that he would gladly have exchanged it all for -a single statement, made in the presence of a commissioner for taking -oaths, bearing out the admission of Marcus Blaydon in regard to that -woman on the other side of the Atlantic. - -Of course Priscilla quickly perceived that he was becoming uneasy, and -equally as a matter of course she found out the cause of the uneasiness. -He told her something of what Messrs. Liscomb and Liscomb had -communicated to him, though he did not go so far as to let her know that -they considered the absent evidence to be vital to the success of the -petition. - -She took his explanation without saying more than a word or two. - -“If Captain Lyman is not to be found we cannot have his evidence, -whether for us or against us,” she said. “And that being so, we shall -have to do our best without it. I have great faith in Sir Edward’s power -of cross-examining. If he puts that man in the witness-box he should be -able to get him to confess as much as he did to you.” - -Jack did not tell her that Messrs. Liscomb and Liscomb had explained to -him that perhaps Marcus Blaydon might be prevented from going into the -box by his own advisers, who might think it advisable to let the judge -say whether or not she had succeeded in establishing her petition when -she had been examined before him. It was well known that a very strong -case indeed required to be made out in favour of pronouncing a marriage -null and void before a judge would make such a pronouncement. So Messrs. -Liscomb and Liscomb had told him; but he kept this information to -himself. - -It was with that phrase about leaving no stone unturned ringing in his -mind, as if it were Messrs. Liscomb and Liscomb’s telephone bell, that -he sent off to the governor of the prison where Marcus Blaydon had been -incarcerated the postcard which contained upon its gummy surface the -imprint of the finger-tips of the man who had visited the Manor claiming -Priscilla as his wife. In spite of the absolute certainty of Priscilla -that he was Marcus Blaydon, Jack thought that there was just a chance -that he was an impostor. Even within his experience there had been -cases of men impersonating others with a view to blackmail or to an -inheritance. There was just a chance that this man was not the real -Marcus Blaydon, but a scoundrel of a slightly different pattern. - -He sent the card in a small box, enclosing with it a letter asking the -governor to be good enough to let him know if the finger-prints that -it bore were those of Marcus Blaydon, who had been incarcerated in the -prison for over a year. - -With the lapse of only a few posts he received a communication from the -acting-governor of the prison stating that he had sent on the card to -the Criminal Investigation Department, and that the reply had been that -the prints were those of Marcus Blaydon. - -He told Priscilla what he had done, and what was the result, and she -shook her head and smiled. - -“It was very clever of you to get the finger-prints as you did,” she -said. “But I knew that I could not be mistaken in the man.” - -“There was only the ghost of a chance that the man was an impostor,” - said Jack; “but I felt bound to leave no stone--oh, there’s that phrase -buzzing about me again!” - -“You were quite right, dear Jack,” she said. “No stone should be left -unturned in digging the foundation for our case.” - -Nothing further passed between them on this point; but two days later -Jack received a private letter from the governor of the prison, stating -that he had just resumed his duty after taking his annual leave, and -that he had seen the letter which his deputy had answered. - -“I can easily understand that you should be interested in an enquiry -of the nature of that suggested by your communication,” he added; “and -though the reply which was sent to you may not have been just the one -for which you hoped, yet I think it possible that it may be in my power -to give you some assistance in any investigation you or your lawyers may -be making in regard to Marcus Blaydon. It would not be regular to do so -by letter, but if you could make it convenient to pay me a visit I might -be able to place you in possession of one or two interesting--perhaps -they may even turn out to be important--facts which came to my knowledge -respecting the man when he was in my charge. - -“When I read in the English newspapers, which I received in Switzerland, -the particulars of the case in which Marcus Blaydon played so sinister a -part, I made up my mind to place myself in communication with you; and -I would have done so even if your letters had not been put into my hands -on my return.” - -“It may mean a great deal or it may mean nothing,” remarked Jack, -passing this communication on to Priscilla. - -Of course, Priscilla felt inclined, on a first reading of the note, -to attribute a great deal of importance to it. “Why should the prison -official take the trouble to write asking you to meet him if he was not -sure that what he had to say was vital?” she asked Jack. But a second -reading caused her to be less sanguine. - -“It is just as you say it is: the man is guarded in his words; they may -mean a great deal or they may mean very little,” she said. “But he is -in an official position, and no doubt he has had experience of curious -cases and of everything that has a bearing upon them; and I can’t think -that he would have taken the trouble to write to you or to ask you to -visit him unless he had something important to tell you.” - -“He says it may turn out to be important,” said Jack; “but just now he -thinks that it is only interesting. I am inclined to believe that it -will never get beyond that qualification. You see, if he himself had -thought that what he knew was vital to our interests he would have -telegraphed to us the moment the first newspapers came into his hands.” - -“Yes, that is so, I can see plainly; but anyhow, you’ll go, will you -not?” said Priscilla. She could see plainly that J ack was a little -annoyed because nothing had come of his cleverly-contrived trap in -obtaining the man’s finger-prints. He was not disposed to have any -extravagant hopes of important information coming from a quarter that -had failed him before. She knew that he was unreasonable; but she also -knew that it was quite natural for him to be affected as he was by the -failure of the authorities to say that the finger-prints were those of -some man other than Marcus Blaydon. - -“Great Gloriana! Of course I shall go to see him, and you will come with -me,” cried Jack. “No matter what he has to say to us, I feel that no -stone----” - -Priscilla clapt her hands upon her ears and rushed out of the room. - -The county gaol to which Marcus Blaydon had been committed was a long -way from Framsby. To reach it necessitated a journey to London, and -thence into the heart of the Midlands. Passing through London they -called upon Messrs. Liscomb and Liscomb to tell them of their mission, -and the junior partner, who was acquainted with Major Crosbie, the -governor of the prison, became greatly interested in the letter which -he had written to Jack--so interested, indeed, that if the duty had -not been laid upon him of receiving professional visits from two most -promising prospective co-respondents and three defendants of newspaper -libel actions, to say nothing of sundry uncompromising plaintiffs, he -would, he declared, accompany his clients into the very presence of -Major Crosbie. - -“Whatever he may have to communicate, you may be sure that it will have -a bearing upon the case,” he said. “He will put you on the track of -evidence--real evidence--not merely what somebody said that somebody -told somebody else. You know where we are deficient in this particular.” - -“Yes,” said Jack quickly, being afraid that he might go on to express -himself strongly in Priscilla’s presence regarding the need for evidence -on the object of Blaydon’s trip across the Atlantic. “Yes, we know -pretty well how we stand. Any proof that Blaydon was a blackguard will -be received with gratitude.” - -“That’s it,” said Mr. Liscomb. - -“I thought Sir Edward’s cross-examination might be expected to do great -things for us in this way,” said Priscilla. - -“It may do something, but not a great deal,” said Liscomb. “Judges are -fond of facts; they don’t care much about cross-examinations, however -brilliant the newspapers may call them. You can easily see how the -fellow, now that he has been put on his guard by your hint that you mean -to try to connect his voyage with a woman, will be careful to have a -story ready to account for all his movements, and he has only to stick -to it to pull through, however Sir Edward may browbeat him. If you can -bring the woman into court we shall have him in the cart.” - -That was all that Mr. Liscomb had to say to them, and they began to -feel that they might as well have gone on direct to the gaol instead of -calling upon him. And that was exactly what Mr. Liscomb himself thought. -The honour and glory of being associated with the “curious case” - were not inordinately estimated by him; the firm had been so closely -connected with such a number of other curious cases ever since he had -become a partner. - -They found Major Crosbie waiting for them in a private room at the -governor’s house. As he was somewhat irregular in offering them -the information of which he was possessed, he was too strict a -disciplinarian to receive them in an official apartment. Within the -precincts of his private residence he felt himself at liberty to talk as -he pleased. A conscience capable of such reasonable differentiation is -most valuable in an official. - -He waved aside in a graceful way Mr. Wingfield’s expression of gratitude -for the invitation to this interview. - -“There is no need to say a word on this point, Mr. Wingfield,” he said. -“Your case is a most curious one.” - -Jack confessed that he had heard it so described. - -“A very curious one. It had been for nearly a week in the papers before -I had a chance of hearing anything about it; but when I heard the name -Marcus Blaydon I at once recollected some particulars which had come -under my notice officially in connection with that man Blaydon. You are -aware that it is part of my duty to read not only those letters which -the prisoners in my charge write to persons outside, but also those -which are received for themselves. Now, Blaydon received while in -this prison four letters, all of which had been addressed to him at -Prangborough, where, as you doubtless know, he lived.” - -Priscilla assented. Prangborough was the town in which her Aunt Emily -lived. - -“They had been addressed to him at Prangborough, and from there were -forwarded to the prison. I find by reference to my official diary that -three of them came from apparently the same correspondent and were -posted at the same place--London in Canada; they were signed -‘Lucy.’ The fourth was from a man, evidently a captain in the merchant -service, named Horace Lyman. It had been posted at Sunderland, and was -received by me a short time before the expiration of the man’s term of -imprisonment.” - -“That is the letter which would be of importance to us if it told us -what is the present address of Captain Lyman,” said Jack. - -Major Crosbie shook his head. - -“You cannot expect a letter written nearly seven months ago to state -positively what is the writer’s address to-day,” said he with a laugh. -“But the contents of that letter made it clear that the writer and his -correspondent were not on the best terms; and that the reason of this -was the ill-treatment by Blaydon of the writer’s sister, whose name was -Lucy.” - -“And the woman’s letters--did they make anything clear?” - -“The woman’s three letters made a good deal clear. The one of the -earliest date suggested very clearly that she was the man’s wife.” - -“What, Blaydon’s wife!” cried Jack. “That would be the best possible -news for us.” - -“So it occurred to me,” said Major Crosbie. “If the man had been -married--as the letters suggested he was--some years before he came -under my notice--under our notice, I should say--and if his wife was -alive, as she must have been when those letters of hers were written, -the curious case becomes a very simple case indeed.” - -“And the letters suggested marriage?” said Priscilla, interrogatively. - -“They undoubtedly suggested marriage--at least, they would have done -so to someone with a smaller experience than I have had of such -correspondence. But from what I know I should say that to assume that -because a woman addresses a man as ‘My own husband,’ she is that man’s -lawful wife, would be a very unwise thing to do. Such a form of address, -I have learnt by experience, comes quite naturally to the woman who -is not married to the man but who should be on the grounds of the most -elementary morality. It is the form used by the woman who has been -deserted by the man, but who hopes to get back to her former place in -his affection. She seems to think, poor thing, that if she assumes the -title of wife whenever she has the chance, she will in time come to -feel that she is his wife. I am not sure if you recognize the--the--what -shall I call it?--the naturalness of all this.” - -He glanced first at Jack and then at Priscilla, and paused as if for -their acquiescence in his suggestion. - -They acquiesced. Jack nodded and muttered “Quite so.” Priscilla said: - -“I am sure it is natural--it is quite plausible. But it might be -possible, might it not? to gather from the rest of the letters whether -the woman was trying to bring back a husband or a lover.” - -“It is sometimes a good deal more difficult to do so than you could -imagine,” replied the Governor. “I used to think that I could -determine this point by the character of the letters; the most -earnest letters--those that were the most loving--the most full of -endearment--were written by the woman to her lover; the tamest--the most -formal, with a touch of nasty upbraiding, came from the legal wife to -her legal husband. That was the general principle on which I drew my -conclusions; but I soon found out how easy it was to make a mistake by -building on such foundations only. You see, women differ so amazingly -in temper and in temperament, leaving education and ‘the complete -letter-writer’ out of the question altogether, that a wife who is not -quite a wife may be carried away by her feelings of the moment, and say -something so bitter that you could only believe it to come from a true -wife, and the true wife may be really in love with her husband, and -ready to condone his lapses without a word of reproach. That is how it -is quite easy for one to make a mistake in trying to differentiate on -the basis of correspondence only.” - -“Quite so,” muttered Jack. - -“I can quite believe that,” said Priscilla. “But about these particular -letters?” - -She thought it quite as well to bring back Major Crosbie from his -consideration of the abstract to that of the concrete. She could see -that Jack was becoming slightly impatient at the somewhat cynical -expression of the Governor’s experiences. - -“I was just returning to the letters written to Marcus Blaydon,” said -he. “It was necessary for me to state to you the difficulty which I find -in the way of coming to any legitimate conclusion on the point which -concerns you most, in order to prevent you from falling into the mistake -of believing that you are quite safe, when investigation may prove that -you have assumed too much.” - -“Of course--quite right,” said Jack. “But you believe that the woman was -his wife?” - -The Governor caressed his chin with a neat forefinger. - -“I think, after going very carefully once more over the copy of the -letters, that there would be sufficient in any one of them to allow a -Grand Jury to bring in a true bill,” he replied. - -Jack saw that the man described very neatly what was in his mind. -But Priscilla had never served on a Grand Jury. She required further -explanation. - -“What I mean to say,” resumed Major Crosbie, “is that the letters -suggest a relationship which may prove on investigation to be a legal -union contracted three years ago in Canada. You observe how cautious I -am?” - -“I do indeed,” replied Priscilla, and she did not acquiesce merely out -of politeness. - -“I should be reluctant to say one word that might lead you to expect too -much,” said he. “My experience leads me to look for the worst and not -the best in men; but I should be reluctant to say that the letters -signed ‘Lucy’ did not come from a woman who was the legal wife of Marcus -Blaydon.” - -“That is so much, at any rate,” said Jack; “and now if you can give -us any clue as to how it would be possible to be brought in touch with -Horace Lyman, we will be evermore indebted to you.” - -“The woman is his sister--so much I gathered,” said the Governor. “And I -learned that he was waiting for Blaydon at the prison gate when Blaydon -was released. That is all I know. But the sister’s address is, as I -mentioned just now, London, in Canada--at least, that was her address -when she was in communication with Blaydon. Her letters were not -illiterate, though of course they were not carefully written. They -showed what critics would possibly call an ill-balanced mind--extremes -of blandishments on one page, and threats of the wildest nature on the -next. I can give you copies if you would care to see them.” - -Priscilla shook her head. She could not see herself sitting down to read -the confidential letters of the poor woman. - -“I am quite willing to accept your judgment on them, Major Crosbie,” she -said. - -“I think that you are right to do so,” said he. “If you were to, read -them they would certainly convey more to you, who have fortunately had -no experience of this form of correspondence, than would be good for -your future peace of mind. You would say at once when you saw the -address ‘My dearest husband,’ and the reiteration of the same word, -‘husband’ with various vehement adjectives--you would undoubtedly -feel confident that the pair were married, but you must think of that -possibility with great suspicion.” - -“You have suggested it, at any rate, and for that you have our heartiest -thanks,” said Jack. “Why, only to be able to put that name ‘Lucy Lyman’ -on Sir Edward’s brief means an enormous gain to us.” - -“But you will, of course, send someone out to Canada to make the thing -sure,” said Crosbie. “You may be able to find the woman herself, and to -bring her to England to confront the man. Whether she’s his wife or not, -that will be a help to your case.” - -“I should rather think that it will be a help,” cried Jack. “If it can -be shown that the man went straight from this place to the side of that -woman in Canada, I don’t see how any judge could refuse us a verdict. I -shall start for Canada to-morrow.” - -“For Heaven’s sake consult with your solicitors first,” said Crosbie. -“They may think that one of their own agents is the best person to -pursue the necessary enquiry in Canada. And now that we have gone as far -as we are likely to go into this matter, even though we should confer -together for a week, we shall have lunch. My wife and daughter are -unfortunately still in Paris--I left them starting on a round of -shops--but you will make allowances for a household run for the present -_en garçon_.” The lunch was, however, so excellent as to leave no need -for any allowance to be made by either of the visitors; and when it was -over their host offered, as they expected he would, to show them over -the prison. Jack knew that governors of prisons, as well as commanders -of cruisers and vergers of cathedrals and superintendents of lunatic -asylums, take it for granted that every visitor is burning to be “shown -over the place”; and he felt too deeply indebted to Major Crosbie not to -afford him an opportunity of exhibiting his hobby at this time. So for -the next hour and a half he and Priscilla gave themselves up to this -form of entertainment. The Governor spared them none of the interesting -horrors of the “system.” They were shown the handsome young bank clerk -who, on a salary of one hundred and twenty pounds a year, had managed to -keep a motor and to go to a music hall every night of his life for -three years without once arousing the suspicion of the directorate; -the ex-Lord Mayor (not of London) who had made a fortune by insuring -people’s lives (in an American office) and then encouraging them to -drink themselves to death; the soldier who, after winning the Victoria -Cross twice over, and saving two batteries of field artillery, had taken -to beating women in Bermondsey, and had one day gone a little too far in -this way; the great financier who had done his best to save the life of -the King by standing by in his 300-ton yacht when his Majesty was in -no danger, and had a little later been sentenced at the Old Bailey for -another audacious fraud; the young man of “superior education” who -had done several very neat forgeries, and was now making pants in the -tailor’s shop; the ex-officer of Engineers who had lived in a mansion -on the Cromwell Road for several years on the profits of writing begging -letters, and was now, by the irony of Fate, engaged in sewing canvas, -mail-bags in which probably, when he came to be relieved of -this obligation, his own compositions would be conveyed to their -destination--all of these interesting persons the visitors saw, with -many others of equal distinction. And they went away fully satisfied, -and with a consciousness of having cancelled a good portion of whatever -debt they owed to the Governor. - -“Funny!” said Priscilla suddenly, when they were sitting opposite to -each other in the dining-car a few hours later. “Funny, isn’t it, that -that man with the reddish hair who was working out his sentence for -forgery should be the Reverend Sylvanus Purview, who read the marriage -service between Marcus Blaydon and myself!” - -“Great Gloriana! Are you positive?” cried Jack. - -“As positive as I was about the other,” said Priscilla. “And what’s -stranger still, he recognized me the moment we entered the tailor’s -shop. I saw as much by his face, though I had not recognized him in his -prison clothes. He was a temporary hand taken on by Mr. Possnett to do -his duty when he was absent on his holiday. He lodged in Mrs. Bowman’s -cottage, and went away without paying her. It created rather a scandal -in our respectable neighbourhood.” - -“The rascal! I suppose he’ll lose his frock, now,” said Jack. - -“Mr. Possnett wrote to the Bishop about him; but he had left the -diocese, and no one knew what had become of him,” said Priscilla. - -“Well, we know now. I wonder what it was he forged. He was clearly a bad -egg from the first. How did you feel when you recognized him?” - -“Delighted,” cried Priscilla. “I felt as if I were paying him back in -full the grudge that I owed him.” Jack laughed. - - - - -CHAPTER XXXIV - -They remained in London that night, in order that they might tell Mr. -Liscomb how they had fared on their visit to the prison. They had a good -deal to discuss between themselves in the meantime. Upon one point they -were in complete agreement, and this was with regard to Major Crosbie’s -belief in the relationship existing between Marcus Blaydon and the woman -who had signed herself ‘Lucy.’ He had endeavoured to be very cautious in -all that he had said on this important point in their presence. He had -been extremely careful not to commit himself in any way, or to leave -them any chance of reproaching him afterwards for leading them to have -false hopes that the marriage of Blaydon with Priscilla was a bigamous -one. But in spite of his intelligent caution, the impression which he -had produced upon them was that he at least was a firm believer that -Blaydon and his Lucy were man and wife. - -They tried to reconstruct the whole of Blaydon’s story so far as -Priscilla was concerned. It was quite plausible that, after marrying -his Lucy in Canada and living with her for some years, they had -quarrelled--had not Major Crosbie said that the letters betray a very -ill-balanced temperament--one page showing her going into an extreme -of affection and the next flying into an excess of abuse? This was -eminently the sort of woman with whom a husband would quarrel, and from -whom he would eventually fly. - -And then fancying that he had escaped from her, and being led to commit -those frauds for which he was afterwards sentenced to imprisonment, was -not his wooing of Priscilla just what might be looked for from such an -unprincipled man? He had an idea, no doubt, that he would be able to -squeeze a fortune out of her father, and when he had made his position -secure, he would have cleared off, perhaps leaving Priscilla a message -that he was not her husband. - -They had no trouble whatever in piecing together such a story of fraud -as was adapted, they felt sure, to the fraudulent tendencies of the -man and the ill-balanced passions of the woman on the other side of the -Atlantic--Priscilla could see her quite clearly--a tall, darkhaired and -dark-skinned creature--a termagant--the sort of woman that a sort of man -would love fiercely and desert with joy when the dust of the ashes of -his passion began to make his eyes smart and to irritate his nostrils. -And as she pictured her, this woman was not the one to let a man wrong -her and remain unpunished. She would not be such a fool as to allow a -man to approach her unless he meant marriage; and she would certainly be -able to hold him captive until he was ready to marry her. - -But while Priscilla believed what she wanted to believe--namely, that -the man and the woman had been husband and wife before he had left her, -she would have been sorry to allow herself to be so carried away by that -impression as to believe that Marcus Blaydon might not have behaved -to that woman as the scoundrel he had shown himself to be in regard to -herself. She would have been sorry to think that he was not capable of -deceiving his Lucy and running away from her; and being so obsessed by -the certainty that the man was a villain, she could not feel so sure as -she would have liked that he had actually married the woman who had been -writing to him. - -She and Jack agreed, however, that Major Crosbie, a man who had been -associated with greater villains, and a greater number of them, than -almost any living man, certainly believed that Blaydon and that woman -were man and wife, and against the belief of a man so well qualified to -judge, the impressions of ordinary people not moving in criminal circles -must be held of small account. And Priscilla, feeling this, was quite -satisfied to allow her belief in the persistent villainy of Marcus -Blaydon to yield to such _force majeure_. - -But these beliefs and impressions and speculations were, after all, -of no importance in relation to the final issue of their visit to -the prison, compared with what they had achieved in learning in what -direction to begin their search for whatever Captain Lyman could tell -them. When they had set out upon their journey to the prison, the only -thing that they had before them was the discovery of the whereabouts of -Captain Lyman, who might possibly be able to give them some information -in regard to the woman whom Jack, with his acquaintance with the -wickedness of men, had asserted, when face to face with Marcus Blaydon, -that this same Blaydon had gone straight from gaol to meet. But from -this rather indefinite quest they had come with some very definite -information indeed, not respecting Captain Horace Lyman, but respecting -the woman herself. They had no need of the help of Captain Lyman or the -fulness of his knowledge just now. They were in a position to go direct -to the woman, and then... - -“We are going ahead a bit too fast,” said Jack, when they had got so -far in their review of all that they had gained by their visit to the -prison. “We would do well not to go just yet beyond the point when we -set out for Canada.” - -“_We?_” cried Priscilla. “Do you mean to say that you would take me with -you?” - -“I told you a long time ago that I meant to run no risks where you -are concerned, and that’s my situation still,” replied Jack. “I do not -intend to let you out of my sight until this business is settled. It -is about time that you had a holiday, and there’s no better place for -holiday-making than Canada in the Fall.” - -She could not speak to acknowledge her appreciation of his care for her. -She pulled his arm about her and nestled in its hollow. - -“There is no such amazing sight--no such picture of colour in the whole -world as the Canadian backwoods in the Fall,” he continued. “It will -amaze you. The sight of those leaves...” - -Off he went, and for the rest of the evening they threw aside every -consideration of the ostensible object of their trip to Canada and -devoted themselves to their itinerary of the St. Lawrence, with -excursions north and south, and a week at Niagara. Not another word did -they say about the man or the woman, or the possible effect of producing -the latter in the English courts to testify to the man’s perfidy. They -were going on a holiday together, and that was enough for them. They -exchanged plans until bed-time. - -Even at breakfast the next morning Priscilla returned to the topic, -asking him what clothes she should take with her on her journey, and he -replied that she couldn’t do better than take the usual sort; an answer -that sent her into a little fit of laughter which lasted until he had -shaken his newspaper out of its folds and glanced at the first page. -Then her laughter was stopped by his familiar exclamation: - -“Great Gloriana! What’s this?” - -“What’s what?” she asked. - -He did not answer her.. His eyes were staring at the paper. He was -reading something with an intensity that prevented his hearing her. - -She waited patiently until he looked up in a puzzled way, and remarked -once more: - -“Great Gloriana!” - -“What is it, Jack? What have you been reading there?” she said. - -He gave a little start, as if he had not expected to see her beside him. - -“I beg your pardon,” he cried. “I was so--so--knocked--read it--the -letter--there--farther down.” - -“Horace Lyman!” she cried. “What is this?” - -The name that had been so much in their thoughts for all these weeks was -there--printed in small capitals at the foot of a letter addressed to -the editor: “Horace Lyman, master mariner.” - -It did not take her long to read every word that appeared above that -signature. - -The letter was headed “An Impostor,” and between that heading and the -signature she read the following: - -“Sir,--A copy of your esteemed paper, dated the 2nd ult., having come -into my hand, I learn that a man named Marcus Blaydon has been giving an -account to your representatives of an incident which he describes as a -miraculous escape from drowning when endeavouring to carry a line ashore -from the wreck of the barque _Kingsdale_, off the coast of Nova Scotia, -on the night of April the 9th. Sir, I fear that you have been hoaxed by -an impostor in this matter; for it would be impossible to believe that -any man who, when he reached the shore, had the heartlessness to free -himself from the line, leaving his messmates to their fate--certain -death, as he had every reason to believe it would be--and then to hurry -away from the scene of the disaster, would have the effrontery to face -men and women--and _women_, I repeat--in a Christian land. - -“Sir, I am prepared to prove every word that I say, and what I do say -and affirm solemnly and before my Maker, is that Marcus Blaydon cast off -the line which he had carried ashore, leaving us to our fate, and walked -away from the coast inland without making any enquiry and without making -any attempt to procure help for us in our extremity from some of the -fishing population of that coast. With his further movements ashore I -am also fully acquainted up to a certain point; but I still say that I -refuse to believe that even so inhuman a wretch would presume to have -the impudence to face Christian people in a Christian country.” - -That was the letter, written by the hand of a sailor-man all -unaccustomed to that elegance of diction which marks the sentences of a -newspaper correspondent, but at the same time quite practised in the art -of striking out straight from the shoulder, regardless of pleonasms in -composition. - -“That is Horace Lyman, and that is Marcus Blaydon,” said Priscilla -without emotion. - -“Look for a leader,” cried Jack, turning over the pages of the -newspaper. “I shouldn’t wonder if there was a leader or something on -this letter. A man would need to convince the newspaper people pretty -completely of his rights in this matter before’ he could induce them to -print such a libel. By the nine gods, here it is!” - -And there, sure enough, was a short editorial note calling attention to -Captain’s Lyman’s letter and stating that Captain Lyman had proved to -the satisfaction of the editor that he could, if given an opportunity, -substantiate every word of the serious charges which he had brought -against Marcus Blaydon, a man whose name the public had acclaimed as -that of a hero in the Spring, but who, it would now appear, so far -from being a hero, was a paltry adventurer, without any of those better -qualities which are occasionally found associated with adventurers. - -The newspaper was one which had made a name for itself by reason of its -fearlessness in exposing fraud and for its persistence in following up a -clue to an imposition, no matter by whom attempted. - -Jack read the editorial comment and laughed. - -“I’m afraid there will be no trip to Canada, Priscilla,” he said. - -“On our part, no,” she said. - -He looked at her enquiringly. - -“On our part? Do you suggest that--that--he----” - -“I think that he will go to Canada--to London, Canada,” said she. - -“Even though her brother has shown him to be such a skunk?” - -“_Because_ her brother has done so.” - -“Is that woman?” - -“Yes, that is woman.” - -“I’m learning. And she is married to him, you still think?” - -“No; I don’t believe now that she is. However, we’ll soon learn the -truth. We shall have no difficulty in getting in touch with Captain -Lyman now. The newspaper people will be certain to have his address in -case of accidents. They would not care to be saddled with a libel action -unless they could lay a hand on Captain Lyman at a moment’s notice.” - -“I’m certain of that; they’ll give us his address fast enough at -the newspaper office. We shall call for it when we have seen Reggie -Liscomb.” - -They had agreed with Mr. Liscomb to call upon him on their return from -their visit to Major Crosbie, to acquaint him with the result of their -interview with that officer; and when they entered the private room of -the junior partner, they found him with a copy of the newspaper which -they had just been reading, on the desk in front of him. - -“You have seen it?” said Jack. “Captain Lyman’s letter?” - -“I have gone one better. I have seen Captain Lyman himself,” said Mr. -Liscomb. - -“Then you know his present address and we need not send for it to the -paper?” said Priscilla. - -“You certainly need not be at that trouble. His address just at this -present moment is ‘Waiting-room, 3, Bishop’s Place.’” - -He touched a bell. - -“Send in the gentleman who went last into the room,” he said to the -messenger, and before Jack or Priscilla had recovered from their -surprise, a black-bearded, well-built man, wearing a jacket and carrying -a tall hat of an obsolete pattern that had been called in several years -before, entered the room, and gave a fine quarterdeck bow all round. - -“Captain Lyman,” said Mr. Liscomb, “this is the lady and gentleman about -whom we had our chat just now.” - -“Proud, ma’am--proud, sir,” said Captain Lyman, bowing once more. - -“Captain Lyman,” said Priscilla quickly. “Was your sister Lucy ever -married to Marcus Blaydon?” - -“Never, ma’am, never; and never will be if I can help it,” was the -reply. - - - - -CHAPTER XXXV - -There was a long silence in the room when that quick answer had been -given to Priscilla’s quick question. - -Captain Lyman looked first at Priscilla, then at Jack, and lastly at Mr. -Liscomb. He seemed not to understand quite why he had been asked that -question, but as it had been asked, he was ready to reply to any other -that might be put to him. But no one seemed to have a question ready. - -It was Mr. Liscomb who broke the silence. He looked up from the -newspaper which he had been reading and said: - -“Captain Lyman, I should like to ask you how it came that you allowed -that report of the man’s being drowned to be published in the papers -when you were aware of his being alive, and why you allowed him to be -written about as a hero when you knew from the first that he had cast -off the line, leaving you and your shipmates to your fate, as you say in -this letter? That’s a question which people will be pretty sure to ask, -and you may as well be prepared for it.” - -“I’m quite prepared for it, sir,” replied Lyman. “I cooked the report -for the benefit of my sister, who was--but it’s a long story, sir, and -there’s not much in it that you haven’t heard before, of a woman without -wisdom and a man without a conscience.” - -“It’s the oldest story in the world--and the newest; but every variation -of it is interesting--in fact, nobody cares about any other sort of -story,” said Mr. Liscomb. - -“I’ll cut this particular variation as short as I can,” said the -mariner. “I have a sister, and she fell in love with Blaydon, it must be -six years ago. There was no reason why they should not have married, for -he had a good billet and she had a trifle of her own; but the marriage -didn’t come off, and the man behaved badly--she told me so when I -returned after a voyage--if I had been at home I’d ha’ taken damgood -care that the marriage did come off. But it didn’t, and the next I hear -is that he has borrowed money from her and cleared off. It was near -about three years before I got wind of him, for you see I’d been -knocking about the world, first in one ship and then in another. I -had put into Sunderland in the barque _Kingsdale_, and there I found -a letter waiting for me from my sister, telling me that the man was in -gaol but would be out in a week or two, and that I was to write to him -and then wait for him at the prison gate, and not lose sight of him -until I brought him to her. I was able to do what she told me, for the -barque was in the graving-dock for a month. I met him the moment he got -his freedom, and we sailed the next day. He wasn’t very willing to come -with me, but he never said a word about having been married the year -before until we were pretty far out of soundings, and then he showed -me the paper with accounts of his arrest outside the church, and of his -trial, when he was let off light by reason of the jawing of the lawyer -about the poor young wife that was waiting for him to turn his erring -feet into the straight path, _et cetera_--you know the sort of stuff -lawyers talk, sir!” - -“I do--I do; I do it myself,” said Mr. Liscomb. “Never mind the lawyers -and their tricks; go on with your story.” - -“I ask your pardon, sir. Well, of course, when I saw that he was married -already I had no further use for him. All I could do was to give him a -sound hiding with a rope’s end; and a sounder one man never got, though -I say it that shouldn’t.” - -“We’ll pardon your boast, Captain,” said Mr. Liscomb. - -“Oh, certainly,” acquiesced Mr. Wingfield, heartily. - -“Thank you, gentlemen. I did my best, and no man can do more. Well, -nothing happened until the barque ran on the rocks, and then he came to -me and said he was a good swimmer and he would like to try to make up -for his wickedness by carrying a line ashore for us. I was fool enough -to be taken in by him. He got the line ashore, but then he cast it -adrift--when we hauled it in we found that the knot had been properly -loosed----” - -“It couldn’t have become unfastened by the action of the waves?” - suggested the lawyer. - -The Captain smiled grimly. - -“No knot that I tie is of that description, sir,” he said. “No, the -rascal slackened the bight and then walked away without saying a word to -anyone until he came to a house nine miles from the coast, where he was -able to loan a suit of clothes--he had his pockets full of money--and -the next day he caught a train for the town where a friend of his lived, -and there he lay till he caught sight of a newspaper that told him -that his wife had married again, and he came to England to see if there -wasn’t some money in it for him.” - -“That’s quite clear; but you haven’t said why you allowed the reports -of his heroic death to be printed, when you knew the truth,” said Mr. -Liscomb. - -“I’m sure the lady will see that I did it because I wanted to let my -poor sister down gently,” said Captain Lyman. “I wanted her to believe -that the man was drowned, and I wanted her to think the best of -herself--to feel for the rest of her life that, after all, she had loved -a man that showed himself to be a man in the way of his death. But when -I landed in England a week ago, and came across the papers with that -‘curious case’ in them, I saw that Lucy was bound to know all; and -having picked up with a newspaper young gentleman, he took me, as I told -you just now, sir, when we were alone, to the office of his paper and, -after a talk with the head boss, I wrote that letter. It was the same -gentleman that told me to call on you, sir.” - -“You did the right thing, and you’ll never regret it,” said Mr. Liscomb. - -“No, I don’t think I’ll regret it, if it puts a spoke in that -blackguard’s wheel,” said Captain Lyman, brushing the cylinder of his -silk hat with his sleeve. “You have my address, sir, in case you need me -at any time,” he added when at the door. - -“And I think we shall need you,” said Mr. Liscomb. When Jack and -Priscilla were left alone with the man of the law he questioned them -as to the result of their interview with the Governor of the prison, -mentioning how he had led them to believe what he certainly believed -himself--that Marcus Blaydon and the woman who had written to him were -man and wife. - -“And how do we stand now?” asked Jack. “Are we anything the better for -Lyman’s visit?” - -“Not a great deal up to the present,” said Mr. Liscomb. “What I now fear -is that Blaydon will clear off without waiting to oppose the petition -for nullity.” - -“Then all will be plain sailing,” cried Jack. - -“Anything but that,” said Liscomb, shaking his head. “There’s nothing -that the judge is more cautious about than collusion. If a case like -this is not opposed, he begins to suspect that the opposition has been -bought off. We shall have to make the whole thing very clear to him.” - -“And that is more difficult now than it was before,” said Priscilla; -“for we cannot now say that he went straight away from the prison to -the woman in Canada. As a matter of fact, he was taken away from England -practically by main force; and the woman in Canada was the last person -whom he wished to be near.” - -“I am glad that you appreciate the difficulties of the case,” said the -lawyer. “The sacredness of the ceremony of marriage is cherished by the -people of England very much more scrupulously than are its obligations. -A judge feels that his responsibility in a question of pronouncing a -marriage null and void is almost greater than he can bear. I believe -that one of them never could be induced to believe that he had the power -to pronounce such a decree. It all comes from those foolish words in -the marriage service, ‘Whom God hath joined together let no man put -asunder.’ The old powers of the Church survive in that sentence. The -marriage was not a civil contract, but a sacrament of the Church, and -some nice hanky-panky tricks the Church played in the same connection. -And now when the ceremony in the church is only kept on as an excuse for -a display of the _dernier cri_ of fashion, and when the civil contract -part--the only part that is according to the law of the land--is made -the centre of some beautiful but absolutely useless embroidery of words -and phrases, the final aweinspiring sentence, ‘Whom God hath joined -together let no man put asunder’ is supposed to be the motto on the seal -of a sacred bond. But it is really nothing more than the ordinary phrase -of a parson addressing his congregation, unless you wish to assume, -which for obvious reasons I don’t, that the civil laws of England have -the same Divine origin as the Ten Commandments.” - -Priscilla smiled. How much plainer he had expressed what she had often -tried to express, was what she was thinking at that moment. - -Jack was becoming uneasy. If Priscilla and that lawyer were to begin to -exchange opinions and compare views on the great marriage question, they -might easily remain in that stuffy office for another hour or two. But -as usual, Priscilla’s extraordinary capacity for keeping silence came to -his aid. She smiled, but said not a word. - -“Then how do we stand just now?” asked Jack, picking up his hat. - -“Well,” said Mr. Liscomb. “I am bound to say that I am disappointed, but -by no means surprised----” - -But at this point he must certainly have been surprised; for he sprang -from his chair with an exclamation. - -It was not to be wondered at; for with a bang and a rush, the man who -had just left the room returned to it. He had a paper in his hand--the -first edition of an evening paper. - -“She has killed him!” cried Captain Lyman. “Lucy has killed him--my -sister--there it is--and I didn’t know that she was in England. She must -have read about the case and come across! Oh, my God! she has killed -him, and I remember her when she was a little girl with golden hair -lying in her cot--as innocent as a lamb. Oh, damn him! but he’s in hell -now--thank God there’s a hell for him--thank----” - -The room was not big enough for the curses that welled up in the big -heart of the sailor. The atmosphere became impregnated in a moment -with the smell of turpentine and bilge-water, and a freshly opened -consignment of flour of sulphur. - -Mr. Liscomb had snatched the paper from him. Jack glanced over his -shoulder while he read. Priscilla sat down. Her face had become deathly -pale. She watched Captain Lyman weeping into a large handkerchief of the -bandana variety. She felt as if she were taking part in a tableau. - -Then the door opened, and the senior partner entered with another -newspaper in his hand. - -“Good heavens! you have seen it also?” he cried. “A terrible thing!--a -shocking thing!--the best thing that could have happened! Good-morning, -Mrs. Wingfield. Don’t allow yourself to be upset. Let me get you a glass -of wine--brandy perhaps would be better.” - -“There is no need,” said Priscilla. “You see, I don’t know what has -happened. Please don’t try to break it gently to me, Mr. Liscomb.” - -“A kiddie with curls as fair as flax, ma’am,” cried Captain Lyman, -waving his handkerchief in the direction of the lady. - -The senior partner stared at him. - -“This is Captain Lyman,” said Priscilla. - -“Lucy she was called at her christening, and she was as innocent as -a lamb before he got hold of her. But she killed him--killed him -dead--it’s all in that paper--and I didn’t even know that she was in -this country, sir. She didn’t come across to kill him; I’ll swear that -she didn’t. But maybe it would have been better if I’d told her the -truth.” - -“The truth is--ah--sometimes justifiable,” said Mr. Liscomb. “This, -however, is a clear case of self-defence. She will not be imprisoned for -a day.” - -“But she loved him, sir,” said Captain Lyman. “What is it makes women -love a man like that; can you tell me?” - -“Self-defence,” came the voice of the junior partner. “He was following -her with a revolver. He had fired three shots, one of them grazed her -shoulder. There were two witnesses--she seized the first weapon that -came to her hand--he ran upon the prongs.” - -“Justifiable, oh, of course,” said the senior partner. He glanced -towards Priscilla. “Bad taste to congratulate her,” he whispered to his -brother Reggie. “Get them out of this as soon as possible; and send me -in a copy of the writ in Farraget’s case. Get rid of the sailor. He’s no -credit to the office.” - -“I can’t forget her--fair hair and such sweet blue eyes,” resumed -Captain Lyman. - -“Come along with us, Captain Lyman,” said Priscilla. “Thank heaven we’ve -got rid of them so easily,” said the senior Liscomb. - -“The woman did the best job for the Wingfields that ever was done for -them,” said the junior. “As the case stood, I doubt very much if Sir -Gabriel would have given us a decree, and there was no evidence for a -divorce. They can get married to-morrow.” - -The next edition of the evening papers contained a full account of -the opportune killing of Marcus Blaydon by Lucy Lyman. It happened -the previous evening in the strawyard of Athalsdean Farm, where Marcus -Blaydon was staying with Mr. Wadhurst. Three of the yardmen saw the -woman enter and enquire for Mr. Blaydon; and she had gone, according -to their direction, into one of the outhouses where he had been -superintending some work, for it seemed that Farmer Wadhurst did not -allow him to eat the bread of idleness. The men shortly afterwards heard -the sound as of an altercation, and then of a shot. The woman rushed out -shrieking, and Blaydon came after her, with a revolver, from which he -fired two more shots at her. He was overtaking her when she picked up -one of the two-pronged forks with which the bundles of straw were -tossed from the carts, and turned upon him with it. He was in the act of -rushing at her, but he never reached her; he rushed upon the two prongs -of the fork and fell dead at her feet. - -That was the whole story; for although the woman was arrested and -admitted that she had produced the revolver in the presence of the -man in order to terrify him and force him to go away with her, it -was perfectly plain that he had got possession of the weapon, and had -endeavoured to take her life, his efforts being only frustrated by the -accident of the strawyard fork lying in her way when she was trying to -escape. - -“Justifiable homicide”--that was the phrase which was in everybody’s -mouth during the next few days; and everyone who spoke the words added -that he or she supposed that Mr. Wingfield and Priscilla would now get -married in proper form. - -But that was not Priscilla’s intention at all. She meant to have the -contract between herself and Marcus Blaydon pronounced null and void in -a court of law, and she expressed herself to this effect to Jack. She -thought that she would have some trouble in inducing him to see that it -would not be just the same thing if they got married the next day; but -she found that he was with her on all points in this matter. Messrs. -Liscomb and Liscomb were instructed to proceed with the case; and a -good many people, when they heard this--including Messrs. Liscomb and -Liscomb--said that Mr. Wingfield and Priscilla were a pair of fools. - -And that was exactly what the judge said when he was appealed to a -couple of months later in the form of a petition by Priscilla. “A pair -of young fools!” This was when he was driving home from the court. When -he had had a sleep and a game of whist at the _Athenaeum_, and a chat -with his wife, he said again, “A pair of young fools!” - -The next day he granted the petition. - -It so happened, however, that there was another scene in this -matrimonial comedy; for on the very morning after the return of the -Wingfields, the Reverend Osney Possnett called upon Priscilla. - -“He is come to tout for a job,” was the comment of Mr. Wingfield upon -this incident. “Tell him to send in his estimate, and we’ll consider -it with the others. Like his cheek to write ‘_Most important_’ on his -card.” - -“I cannot understand what he means,” said Priscilla. “Surely he does not -hope to persuade me that a judge of a civil court has no authority to -pronounce a decree of nullity!” - -“You never can tell,” said Jack. - -And then the clergyman entered. He was in a state of great agitation, -and Priscilla believed that tears were in his eyes. - -He went toward her with both hands extended. - -“My poor girl--my poor Priscilla!” he cried. “I am to blame--I only am -to blame. Such a thing has happened before, but only once, I believe, -during the past twenty years.” - -“What has happened, Mr. Possnett?” she enquired. “Are you quite sure -that you are to blame?” - -“Yes, that’s the question,” said Jack, who did not know when to keep -silent. - -“No, no; it was my fault. I should have made more ample enquiries; but I -was in a hurry, and I never dreamt that he was not all right,” cried Mr. -Possnett. - -“Do you mean about Mr. Sylvanus Purview?” said Priscilla. “If so, we -know all about him; he is in prison. We saw him there some time ago.” - -“What, you are aware that he was an impostor--that he had forged his -ordination papers--that he had never been a priest in holy orders?” - -“We heard nothing of that,” said Priscilla. “Major Crosbie heard -nothing of it either, I’m sure. He told us that the man was of superior -education, and had been sentenced to imprisonment for forgery, but it -was in connection with a bond.” - -“No one could have told you about his fraud upon me, for he only -confessed to me yesterday,” said Mr. Possnett. “He had expressed a -desire to the chaplain to see me, and the Governor wrote to me--a -cautious letter--mentioning this fact. Of course I went to the prison, -and I saw the unfortunate man. He seemed to me to be truly contrite--the -chaplain is well known for a zealous preacher. The man’s right name is -Samuel Prosser, and he lived in Australia. He was at Melbourne College, -and he had a remarkable career in New South Wales. He came to me from -a London agency, bearing, as I thought, satisfactory credentials for a -_locum tenens_. He had forged every one of them. He confessed it to -me. I believe he would have done so even if he had not seen you at -the prison, and heard your story from the chaplain. But I shall -never forgive myself--never! Happily yours was the only marriage he -celebrated. The usual procedure in such a case is to take legal steps -to have all marriages celebrated by a man who, though unqualified, -is accepted _bona fide_ by the contracting parties as an authorized -clergyman, pronounced valid--it has been resorted to more than once; but -in this case----” - -“I don’t think we’ll go to that expense,” said Jack. “At least, my wife -and I will talk the matter over first.” - -“Ah, just so. But my dear Pris--Mrs. Wingfield, can you ever forgive -my want of care in this matter? Oh, it will be a warning to me in -future--culpable want of care--can you ever forgive me?” - -“Well, yes, I think I can,” said Priscilla. - -And there is every reason to believe that she did--freely. - -“My dear Priscilla, after all you were the most unmarried woman of all -the world when you came to me,” said Jack. - -“And now I believe that I am the most married,” said she. - -And all Framsby left cards the next day. - -THE END. - - - - - - - -End of Project Gutenberg’s Priscilla and Charybdis, by Frank Frankfort Moore - -*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK PRISCILLA AND CHARYBDIS *** - -***** This file should be named 51972-0.txt or 51972-0.zip ***** -This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: - http://www.gutenberg.org/5/1/9/7/51972/ - -Produced by David Widger from page images generously -provided by the Internet Archive - - -Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions will -be renamed. - -Creating the works from print editions not protected by U.S. copyright -law means that no one owns a United States copyright in these works, -so the Foundation (and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United -States without permission and without paying copyright -royalties. Special rules, set forth in the General Terms of Use part -of this license, apply to copying and distributing Project -Gutenberg-tm electronic works to protect the PROJECT GUTENBERG-tm -concept and trademark. Project Gutenberg is a registered trademark, -and may not be used if you charge for the eBooks, unless you receive -specific permission. If you do not charge anything for copies of this -eBook, complying with the rules is very easy. You may use this eBook -for nearly any purpose such as creation of derivative works, reports, -performances and research. They may be modified and printed and given -away--you may do practically ANYTHING in the United States with eBooks -not protected by U.S. copyright law. Redistribution is subject to the -trademark license, especially commercial redistribution. - -START: FULL LICENSE - -THE FULL PROJECT GUTENBERG LICENSE -PLEASE READ THIS BEFORE YOU DISTRIBUTE OR USE THIS WORK - -To protect the Project Gutenberg-tm mission of promoting the free -distribution of electronic works, by using or distributing this work -(or any other work associated in any way with the phrase “Project -Gutenberg”), you agree to comply with all the terms of the Full -Project Gutenberg-tm License available with this file or online at -www.gutenberg.org/license. - -Section 1. General Terms of Use and Redistributing Project -Gutenberg-tm electronic works - -1.A. By reading or using any part of this Project Gutenberg-tm -electronic work, you indicate that you have read, understand, agree to -and accept all the terms of this license and intellectual property -(trademark/copyright) agreement. If you do not agree to abide by all -the terms of this agreement, you must cease using and return or -destroy all copies of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works in your -possession. If you paid a fee for obtaining a copy of or access to a -Project Gutenberg-tm electronic work and you do not agree to be bound -by the terms of this agreement, you may obtain a refund from the -person or entity to whom you paid the fee as set forth in paragraph -1.E.8. - -1.B. “Project Gutenberg” is a registered trademark. It may only be -used on or associated in any way with an electronic work by people who -agree to be bound by the terms of this agreement. There are a few -things that you can do with most Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works -even without complying with the full terms of this agreement. See -paragraph 1.C below. There are a lot of things you can do with Project -Gutenberg-tm electronic works if you follow the terms of this -agreement and help preserve free future access to Project Gutenberg-tm -electronic works. See paragraph 1.E below. - -1.C. The Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation (“the -Foundation” or PGLAF), owns a compilation copyright in the collection -of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works. Nearly all the individual -works in the collection are in the public domain in the United -States. If an individual work is unprotected by copyright law in the -United States and you are located in the United States, we do not -claim a right to prevent you from copying, distributing, performing, -displaying or creating derivative works based on the work as long as -all references to Project Gutenberg are removed. Of course, we hope -that you will support the Project Gutenberg-tm mission of promoting -free access to electronic works by freely sharing Project Gutenberg-tm -works in compliance with the terms of this agreement for keeping the -Project Gutenberg-tm name associated with the work. You can easily -comply with the terms of this agreement by keeping this work in the -same format with its attached full Project Gutenberg-tm License when -you share it without charge with others. - -1.D. The copyright laws of the place where you are located also govern -what you can do with this work. Copyright laws in most countries are -in a constant state of change. If you are outside the United States, -check the laws of your country in addition to the terms of this -agreement before downloading, copying, displaying, performing, -distributing or creating derivative works based on this work or any -other Project Gutenberg-tm work. The Foundation makes no -representations concerning the copyright status of any work in any -country outside the United States. - -1.E. Unless you have removed all references to Project Gutenberg: - -1.E.1. The following sentence, with active links to, or other -immediate access to, the full Project Gutenberg-tm License must appear -prominently whenever any copy of a Project Gutenberg-tm work (any work -on which the phrase “Project Gutenberg” appears, or with which the -phrase “Project Gutenberg” is associated) is accessed, displayed, -performed, viewed, copied or distributed: - - This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and - most other parts of the world at no cost and with almost no - restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it - under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included with this - eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org. If you are not located in the - United States, you’ll have to check the laws of the country where you - are located before using this ebook. - -1.E.2. If an individual Project Gutenberg-tm electronic work is -derived from texts not protected by U.S. copyright law (does not -contain a notice indicating that it is posted with permission of the -copyright holder), the work can be copied and distributed to anyone in -the United States without paying any fees or charges. If you are -redistributing or providing access to a work with the phrase “Project -Gutenberg” associated with or appearing on the work, you must comply -either with the requirements of paragraphs 1.E.1 through 1.E.7 or -obtain permission for the use of the work and the Project Gutenberg-tm -trademark as set forth in paragraphs 1.E.8 or 1.E.9. - -1.E.3. If an individual Project Gutenberg-tm electronic work is posted -with the permission of the copyright holder, your use and distribution -must comply with both paragraphs 1.E.1 through 1.E.7 and any -additional terms imposed by the copyright holder. Additional terms -will be linked to the Project Gutenberg-tm License for all works -posted with the permission of the copyright holder found at the -beginning of this work. - -1.E.4. Do not unlink or detach or remove the full Project Gutenberg-tm -License terms from this work, or any files containing a part of this -work or any other work associated with Project Gutenberg-tm. - -1.E.5. Do not copy, display, perform, distribute or redistribute this -electronic work, or any part of this electronic work, without -prominently displaying the sentence set forth in paragraph 1.E.1 with -active links or immediate access to the full terms of the Project -Gutenberg-tm License. - -1.E.6. You may convert to and distribute this work in any binary, -compressed, marked up, nonproprietary or proprietary form, including -any word processing or hypertext form. However, if you provide access -to or distribute copies of a Project Gutenberg-tm work in a format -other than “Plain Vanilla ASCII” or other format used in the official -version posted on the official Project Gutenberg-tm web site -(www.gutenberg.org), you must, at no additional cost, fee or expense -to the user, provide a copy, a means of exporting a copy, or a means -of obtaining a copy upon request, of the work in its original “Plain -Vanilla ASCII” or other form. Any alternate format must include the -full Project Gutenberg-tm License as specified in paragraph 1.E.1. - -1.E.7. Do not charge a fee for access to, viewing, displaying, -performing, copying or distributing any Project Gutenberg-tm works -unless you comply with paragraph 1.E.8 or 1.E.9. - -1.E.8. You may charge a reasonable fee for copies of or providing -access to or distributing Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works -provided that - -* You pay a royalty fee of 20% of the gross profits you derive from - the use of Project Gutenberg-tm works calculated using the method - you already use to calculate your applicable taxes. The fee is owed - to the owner of the Project Gutenberg-tm trademark, but he has - agreed to donate royalties under this paragraph to the Project - Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation. Royalty payments must be paid - within 60 days following each date on which you prepare (or are - legally required to prepare) your periodic tax returns. Royalty - payments should be clearly marked as such and sent to the Project - Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation at the address specified in - Section 4, “Information about donations to the Project Gutenberg - Literary Archive Foundation.” - -* You provide a full refund of any money paid by a user who notifies - you in writing (or by e-mail) within 30 days of receipt that s/he - does not agree to the terms of the full Project Gutenberg-tm - License. You must require such a user to return or destroy all - copies of the works possessed in a physical medium and discontinue - all use of and all access to other copies of Project Gutenberg-tm - works. - -* You provide, in accordance with paragraph 1.F.3, a full refund of - any money paid for a work or a replacement copy, if a defect in the - electronic work is discovered and reported to you within 90 days of - receipt of the work. - -* You comply with all other terms of this agreement for free - distribution of Project Gutenberg-tm works. - -1.E.9. If you wish to charge a fee or distribute a Project -Gutenberg-tm electronic work or group of works on different terms than -are set forth in this agreement, you must obtain permission in writing -from both the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation and The -Project Gutenberg Trademark LLC, the owner of the Project Gutenberg-tm -trademark. Contact the Foundation as set forth in Section 3 below. - -1.F. - -1.F.1. Project Gutenberg volunteers and employees expend considerable -effort to identify, do copyright research on, transcribe and proofread -works not protected by U.S. copyright law in creating the Project -Gutenberg-tm collection. Despite these efforts, Project Gutenberg-tm -electronic works, and the medium on which they may be stored, may -contain “Defects,” such as, but not limited to, incomplete, inaccurate -or corrupt data, transcription errors, a copyright or other -intellectual property infringement, a defective or damaged disk or -other medium, a computer virus, or computer codes that damage or -cannot be read by your equipment. - -1.F.2. LIMITED WARRANTY, DISCLAIMER OF DAMAGES - Except for the “Right -of Replacement or Refund” described in paragraph 1.F.3, the Project -Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation, the owner of the Project -Gutenberg-tm trademark, and any other party distributing a Project -Gutenberg-tm electronic work under this agreement, disclaim all -liability to you for damages, costs and expenses, including legal -fees. YOU AGREE THAT YOU HAVE NO REMEDIES FOR NEGLIGENCE, STRICT -LIABILITY, BREACH OF WARRANTY OR BREACH OF CONTRACT EXCEPT THOSE -PROVIDED IN PARAGRAPH 1.F.3. YOU AGREE THAT THE FOUNDATION, THE -TRADEMARK OWNER, AND ANY DISTRIBUTOR UNDER THIS AGREEMENT WILL NOT BE -LIABLE TO YOU FOR ACTUAL, DIRECT, INDIRECT, CONSEQUENTIAL, PUNITIVE OR -INCIDENTAL DAMAGES EVEN IF YOU GIVE NOTICE OF THE POSSIBILITY OF SUCH -DAMAGE. - -1.F.3. LIMITED RIGHT OF REPLACEMENT OR REFUND - If you discover a -defect in this electronic work within 90 days of receiving it, you can -receive a refund of the money (if any) you paid for it by sending a -written explanation to the person you received the work from. If you -received the work on a physical medium, you must return the medium -with your written explanation. The person or entity that provided you -with the defective work may elect to provide a replacement copy in -lieu of a refund. If you received the work electronically, the person -or entity providing it to you may choose to give you a second -opportunity to receive the work electronically in lieu of a refund. If -the second copy is also defective, you may demand a refund in writing -without further opportunities to fix the problem. - -1.F.4. Except for the limited right of replacement or refund set forth -in paragraph 1.F.3, this work is provided to you ‘AS-IS’, WITH NO -OTHER WARRANTIES OF ANY KIND, EXPRESS OR IMPLIED, INCLUDING BUT NOT -LIMITED TO WARRANTIES OF MERCHANTABILITY OR FITNESS FOR ANY PURPOSE. - -1.F.5. Some states do not allow disclaimers of certain implied -warranties or the exclusion or limitation of certain types of -damages. If any disclaimer or limitation set forth in this agreement -violates the law of the state applicable to this agreement, the -agreement shall be interpreted to make the maximum disclaimer or -limitation permitted by the applicable state law. The invalidity or -unenforceability of any provision of this agreement shall not void the -remaining provisions. - -1.F.6. INDEMNITY - You agree to indemnify and hold the Foundation, the -trademark owner, any agent or employee of the Foundation, anyone -providing copies of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works in -accordance with this agreement, and any volunteers associated with the -production, promotion and distribution of Project Gutenberg-tm -electronic works, harmless from all liability, costs and expenses, -including legal fees, that arise directly or indirectly from any of -the following which you do or cause to occur: (a) distribution of this -or any Project Gutenberg-tm work, (b) alteration, modification, or -additions or deletions to any Project Gutenberg-tm work, and (c) any -Defect you cause. - -Section 2. Information about the Mission of Project Gutenberg-tm - -Project Gutenberg-tm is synonymous with the free distribution of -electronic works in formats readable by the widest variety of -computers including obsolete, old, middle-aged and new computers. It -exists because of the efforts of hundreds of volunteers and donations -from people in all walks of life. - -Volunteers and financial support to provide volunteers with the -assistance they need are critical to reaching Project Gutenberg-tm’s -goals and ensuring that the Project Gutenberg-tm collection will -remain freely available for generations to come. In 2001, the Project -Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation was created to provide a secure -and permanent future for Project Gutenberg-tm and future -generations. To learn more about the Project Gutenberg Literary -Archive Foundation and how your efforts and donations can help, see -Sections 3 and 4 and the Foundation information page at -www.gutenberg.org Section 3. Information about the Project Gutenberg -Literary Archive Foundation - -The Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation is a non profit -501(c)(3) educational corporation organized under the laws of the -state of Mississippi and granted tax exempt status by the Internal -Revenue Service. The Foundation’s EIN or federal tax identification -number is 64-6221541. Contributions to the Project Gutenberg Literary -Archive Foundation are tax deductible to the full extent permitted by -U.S. federal laws and your state’s laws. - -The Foundation’s principal office is in Fairbanks, Alaska, with the -mailing address: PO Box 750175, Fairbanks, AK 99775, but its -volunteers and employees are scattered throughout numerous -locations. Its business office is located at 809 North 1500 West, Salt -Lake City, UT 84116, (801) 596-1887. Email contact links and up to -date contact information can be found at the Foundation’s web site and -official page at www.gutenberg.org/contact - -For additional contact information: - - Dr. Gregory B. Newby - Chief Executive and Director - gbnewby@pglaf.org - -Section 4. Information about Donations to the Project Gutenberg -Literary Archive Foundation - -Project Gutenberg-tm depends upon and cannot survive without wide -spread public support and donations to carry out its mission of -increasing the number of public domain and licensed works that can be -freely distributed in machine readable form accessible by the widest -array of equipment including outdated equipment. Many small donations -($1 to $5,000) are particularly important to maintaining tax exempt -status with the IRS. - -The Foundation is committed to complying with the laws regulating -charities and charitable donations in all 50 states of the United -States. Compliance requirements are not uniform and it takes a -considerable effort, much paperwork and many fees to meet and keep up -with these requirements. We do not solicit donations in locations -where we have not received written confirmation of compliance. To SEND -DONATIONS or determine the status of compliance for any particular -state visit www.gutenberg.org/donate - -While we cannot and do not solicit contributions from states where we -have not met the solicitation requirements, we know of no prohibition -against accepting unsolicited donations from donors in such states who -approach us with offers to donate. - -International donations are gratefully accepted, but we cannot make -any statements concerning tax treatment of donations received from -outside the United States. U.S. laws alone swamp our small staff. - -Please check the Project Gutenberg Web pages for current donation -methods and addresses. Donations are accepted in a number of other -ways including checks, online payments and credit card donations. To -donate, please visit: www.gutenberg.org/donate - -Section 5. General Information About Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works. - -Professor Michael S. Hart was the originator of the Project -Gutenberg-tm concept of a library of electronic works that could be -freely shared with anyone. For forty years, he produced and -distributed Project Gutenberg-tm eBooks with only a loose network of -volunteer support. - -Project Gutenberg-tm eBooks are often created from several printed -editions, all of which are confirmed as not protected by copyright in -the U.S. unless a copyright notice is included. Thus, we do not -necessarily keep eBooks in compliance with any particular paper -edition. - -Most people start at our Web site which has the main PG search -facility: www.gutenberg.org - -This Web site includes information about Project Gutenberg-tm, -including how to make donations to the Project Gutenberg Literary -Archive Foundation, how to help produce our new eBooks, and how to -subscribe to our email newsletter to hear about new eBooks. - |