diff options
Diffstat (limited to 'old/65117-0.txt')
| -rw-r--r-- | old/65117-0.txt | 9137 |
1 files changed, 0 insertions, 9137 deletions
diff --git a/old/65117-0.txt b/old/65117-0.txt deleted file mode 100644 index d6b2c96..0000000 --- a/old/65117-0.txt +++ /dev/null @@ -1,9137 +0,0 @@ -The Project Gutenberg eBook of The Dazzling Miss Davison, by Florence -Warden - -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 -will have to check the laws of the country where you are located before -using this eBook. - -Title: The Dazzling Miss Davison - -Author: Florence Warden - -Release Date: April 20, 2021 [eBook #65117] - -Language: English - -Character set encoding: UTF-8 - -Produced by: MWS, David E. Brown, and the Online Distributed Proofreading - Team at https://www.pgdp.net (This file was produced from - images generously made available by The Internet - Archive/American Libraries.) - -*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE DAZZLING MISS DAVISON *** - - - - -_THE DAZZLING MISS DAVISON_ - -[Illustration] - - - - - THE DAZZLING - MISS DAVISON - - BY - - FLORENCE WARDEN - - AUTHOR OF - “THE HOUSE ON THE MARSH” - - NEW YORK - THE H. K. FLY COMPANY - PUBLISHERS - - - - - Copyright, 1910, by - THE NEW IDEA PUBLISHING CO. - - Copyright, 1910, by - THE H. K. FLY COMPANY - - _Entered at Stationers’ Hall, London_ - (_All Rights Reserved_) - - Printed in the United States of America - - - - -THE DAZZLING MISS DAVISON - - - - -CHAPTER I - - -A roomy, comfortable, old-fashioned house in Bayswater, with high -windows, big rooms, and little balconies just big enough to hold a -wealth of flowers in summer and a very pretty show of evergreens when -the season for flowers was past. - -On October a row of asters, backed up by a taller row of foliage -plants, made the house look bright and pretty, and the young faces that -appeared at the windows of the drawing-room made it prettier still. - -Mr. and Mrs. Aldington, the occupiers of the house, thought that there -was nothing pleasanter in life than the gayety of young people, and so, -as they had only two children, a son and a daughter, both grown up, -they gave a general invitation to the younger generation, of which, -particularly on a Sunday afternoon and evening, the contemporaries of -their son and daughter were not slow to avail themselves. - -Especially was it the pleasure of these good-hearted people to extend -hospitality to those young folks whose lives were, for one reason or -another, not so bright as those of their own children. And many a -friendless young barrister waiting for a brief, young doctor struggling -for a practice, and many a girl whose parents had a hard time of it -in keeping up a fair position on an unfairly small income, found -recreation and a warm welcome at the old-fashioned house in Bayswater. - -Some of them found more than that. Gerard Buckland, for instance, a -clever young barrister who was tired of hearing of the great things he -was to do some day, since he was unable to get even small things to do -to go on with, found at the Aldingtons something that he had stoutly -resolved to do without until he had “got on.” - -He found, in other words, his “ideal.” - -It was on a bright Sunday afternoon, when the big drawing-room was full -of lively people, mostly young, and all talking at once, that Gerard, -having been introduced by Arthur Aldington two Sundays previously, took -advantage for the third time of the general invitation given him by the -host and hostess, and found himself surrounded by a dozen people among -whom he knew no one except the Aldingtons themselves. - -Whereupon Rose, the daughter of the house, made him sit by her, and, as -he was shyly looking over a basketful of loose photographs which he had -found on a table beside him, undertook the task of showman, and told -him all about the pictures as he looked at them one by one. - -It chanced that the second picture he picked up after Rose’s arrival -was the portrait of a girl which attracted him at once. - -“What an interesting face!” said he, as he looked at the photograph. - -“And she’s an interesting girl too!” said Rose, who was a plain, -amiable young woman of six-and-twenty, whom everybody liked and nobody -had as yet chosen. “She’s the daughter of a Colonel, who speculated, -and then died and left his wife and two girls with scarcely anything to -live upon. Papa says it’s one of the saddest stories he knows. They’ve -gone to live in a cottage somewhere, after living in one of the most -beautiful houses you ever saw in the country, and having a flat in town -as well.” - -Gerard Buckland was looking intently at the photograph, which was that -of a quite young woman with an oval face, delicate features, and an -expression which combined vivacity with intelligence. - -“She looks very clever,” he said. - -“Yes, so she is--and very pretty too.” - -“Yes, very, very pretty.” - -He was fascinated; and when he was compelled to look at other -photographs, he placed that of the girl whose story he had just heard -at the side of the basket, in such a position that he could glance at -it again from time to time, and amuse himself by speculating about -this girl who was so handsome, so clever, and so unlucky. - -Rose Aldington noticed his preoccupation with the picture, and said, -with a smile-- - -“I see you admire her, just as everyone else does.” - -“I was thinking the story a sad one,” said Gerard, rather confused at -being discovered in his act of adoration. - -“Oh, well, perhaps she’ll marry well, and her sister too, and then it -will be all right. The sister is even better-looking than Ra--than she -is, and just as nice. Only unluckily she hadn’t finished growing up -when their father died, so she hasn’t had the benefit of such a good -education as the elder.” - -“It’s hard upon a girl, though, when she has to marry just for money,” -observed Gerard. - -“Oh, yes, of course. And I’m not sure that this particular girl would -do it either. But that’s the usual thing to say, isn’t it, when a very -pretty girl is left unexpectedly poor?” - -“Yes.” - -Gerard answered quite shortly, and looked at the photograph again. And -at that moment the door opened, and an exclamation rose to his lips as -he recognized in the new arrival the very girl whose picture he held in -his hand. - -He felt the blood rush to his face as he looked at her. He saw at -once that the absence of color from the photograph had given him an -altogether wrong impression of what the girl herself would be like. She -was of medium height, slender, pale, brown-haired, brown-eyed, and her -dress was plain almost to dowdiness. - -But she carried herself so well, her figure was so graceful, her -expression so intelligent, and her smile so charming, that she -attracted instinctive attention in greater measure than any of the -other girls in the room. - -“Rachel!” cried Mrs. Aldington. - -“Miss Davison!” cried her son Arthur at the same moment. - -And the new-comer was brought into the group near the fire and -surrounded, while Gerard Buckland, at a little distance, listened to -the tones of her voice, and approved of them as he had done of every -detail concerning her. - -Only one thing about her seemed amiss. Well as she wore her plain, -almost shabby clothes, neat and graceful as she looked in them, Gerard -felt that they were not the clothes which she ought to be wearing, that -her beauty demanded a better setting than the plain serge skirt, the -black jacket, the gray felt mushroom hat with its trimming of a quill -and a big black rosette, which, though they became her, were not quite -smart enough either for the occasion or for her own type of womanhood. - -Gerard saw the glance of Rose Aldington wander in his direction with a -sly look, and he hoped she would not forget to find an opportunity to -introduce him to the interesting guest. - -He was not disappointed. Before tea was brought in, Rose had contrived -the introduction, and Gerard found himself in conversation with the -girl whom he felt to be the nearest he had yet met to the sort of -floating ideal of what is most gracious in woman, which he, in common -with most young men, carried about in his mind, ready to crystallize -into the face and form of some human, breathing, living girl. - -As she interested him, so did he, perhaps, interest her. The tall, shy, -handsome fair man of five-and-twenty, who spoke so softly, but who -looked as if his voice could be heard in other and stronger tones upon -occasion, and of whom it had been whispered in her ear by Rose that -he was “so clever, bound to make a name for himself at the bar,” was -pleasant to look upon and to listen to, and the two young people, in -that pleasant twilight which Mrs. Aldington loved, and which she would -not too soon have broken in upon by gas and candles, soon began to find -that they had many things to say to each other, as they sipped tea and -nibbled cake, to the accompaniment of the other gay young voices, in -the illumination of the leaping firelight. - -Somebody had drawn the talk of the whole room into the old channel -of woman’s rights and position, and immediately the whole company had -broken up into interested little couples and groups to discuss it with -the same freshness of interest as if it had never been discussed before. - -Rachel Davison was rather bitter about it. - -“It’s all very well to talk,” she said, “about the right of woman to -act for herself, and to make a position for herself, and the rest of -it. But you want more than the right: you must have the power. And that -is what we shall never get,” she added, with a sigh. - -Gerard argued with her. - -“Why shouldn’t they have the power?” he said. “When once the barriers -of prejudice are pulled down, what’s to prevent a woman from entering -any field where she feels her talents will be best employed?” - -She raised her eyebrows. - -“When once the barriers of prejudice are broken down!” echoed she. “But -that will be never. You don’t recognize how strong they are! Why, look -at my mother, for instance; she’s more particular about little things, -prejudices and that sort of thing, than about important ones. And she’s -not alone, she’s one of a type, the most common type. She would rather -see her daughters dead, I’m quite sure, than engaged in any occupation -which she’s been accustomed to think unwomanly.” - -“But she belongs to the last generation. We go on enlarging our ideas. -You, for instance, don’t agree with her, I can see.” - -“Not in everything, certainly; though I agree with her enough to -sympathize with her, and to wish that the world were just as she sees -it, with plenty of work for all, and work of the pleasantest kind--work -that one could engage in without loss of dignity, and with credit to -oneself.” - -“There’s plenty of such work to be found now. What about the dignity of -labor?” - -“All very well in theory, but quite a mistake in practice. At any rate, -there’s nothing dignified about any calling which I, for example, could -find to follow. Now poor mamma thinks it’s all right, that one has only -to look about to find ways of utilizing what she calls one’s talents, -and to make heaps of money by them.” - -“Perhaps she’s right after all. I’m sure you wouldn’t be long in -finding an opening for yours, if you wanted one.” - -“What makes you say that? At least I know. Of course, it’s the sort -of thing a man must say to a woman. But, as a matter of stern fact, I -haven’t any talents, and for a woman without to look for remunerative -and dignified labor is just the most appalling waste of time -imaginable.” - -“I’m quite sure you have talents, only perhaps you don’t recognize them -yourself yet.” - -“What makes you speak so certainly, when I tell you I have not?” - -Gerard hesitated. - -“I’m not quite sure whether I dare tell why. The thing I should have to -say, if I were to tell the truth, is the sort of thing some ladies as -young as you don’t care to hear.” - -He looked at her with shy interest, and she, alert and inquisitive, -insisted upon his explaining. - -“Whether I like to hear it or not, I must know what you mean,” she -said, with charming imperiousness. - -“Well, then, Miss Davison, you look--may I say it?--‘brainy.’” - -She nodded, smiling. - -“I’ve been told that before, but the look is deceptive. I’m only just -not quite an idiot. I can’t do anything--except one thing that I don’t -think I’ll own to,” she added, with a laugh. - -“Let me put you through a short catechism. Can’t you play?--the piano, -I mean.” - -“Not even well enough to get through the accompaniment of a song at -sight, or to play an easy piece that I haven’t diligently practiced -till the family is tired to death of it.” - -“Can’t you paint?” - -“Oh, yes, I can copy drawing-master’s pictures, which are like nothing -in heaven or earth or the water under the earth.” - -“You can sing, I feel sure.” - -“Yes, I can, but you have to sit very near the piano to hear me.” - -“Then you have some other accomplishments which you have concealed from -me,” said Gerard, affecting a judicial frown. - -Miss Davison laughed merrily. - -“Well, I have one, but wild horses shan’t drag from me what it is. And, -if you knew, you would not advise me to use it.” - -“Come, come, I must have complete confession. No half-way measures. -Let me see if I can’t suggest a way of utilizing this mysterious -accomplishment.” - -She laughed, blushed crimson, and suddenly opening her hand, showed -him, lying flat on the palm, a little silver pencil-case, at sight of -which he uttered an exclamation. - -“Why, that’s mine, isn’t it?” said he. “How did you--” - -He stopped, she laughed, and Rose Aldington, who was sitting near, -joined in her mirth, which was of rather a shame-faced kind. - -“Showing off again, Rachel?” she said. - -Miss Davison laughed, gave the pencil-case back to Gerard, and said, -with a demure look-- - -“There! that’s my best accomplishment. I flatter myself I can pick -pockets with any amateur living. Now you wouldn’t recommend me to take -to that as a livelihood, would you?” - -He was amused, almost dismayed, but protested earnestly that there must -be a hundred ways in which such exceeding dexterity could be profitably -exercised without having recourse to the profession she suggested. - -But, in the meantime, Rose Aldington having drawn the attention of the -rest of the people in the room to Rachel’s accomplishment, she was -called upon to give another exhibition of her skill, and this she did -in various ways, transferring trifles from the mantelpiece to the table -and back again so quickly and cleverly that the eye could not follow -her movements, and performing other little feats requiring extreme -delicacy of touch and quickness of eye, until they all told her she -would make her fortune if she were to set up as a conjurer. - -Gerard, however, was more deeply interested than the rest. He learned -from her that she performed these various tricks without ever having -been taught conjuring, and he argued from this that, if she were only -to train her special faculties in some given direction, she could not -fail to become exceedingly expert. - -“I should have thought,” he said, “that you would make a very clever -milliner, with your wonderfully light touch.” - -Miss Davison sighed. - -“I believe I should,” she said; “but my mother won’t hear of -it. Prejudice again! And I daresay that the talent which seems -extraordinary when it is untrained, would turn out quite commonplace if -I were to be pitted, at any calling such as millinery, against those -who have for years been brought up to it.” - -“I don’t think so,” said Gerard. “Indeed, I’m sure you do yourself -an injustice. Your lightness of hand and quickness of eye are quite -remarkable. And the wonderful way in which you move, so that you get -from one place to another without being seen on the way, if I may so -express it, reminds one rather of a bird than of the average solid, -stolid thing we call a human being.” - -Miss Davison was amused, rather pleased, by his evident enthusiasm, and -when he modestly and stammeringly expressed a hope that she would let -him know if she decided to make any practical use of her talents, she -told him that when she and her mother came to town, she would ask him -to go and see them. - -“At present,” she added, “we are living quite in the country, and we -can’t receive any visitors because my mother is not well enough.” - -“And how shall I know--through the Aldingtons--when you come to town?” -asked Gerard eagerly. - -“Oh, yes; they will know before anyone. Mrs. Aldington is such a dear, -and so is her husband; and so, for that matter, are Arthur and Rose. -Yes, whenever we come up, and wherever we settle, they will know our -address at once.” - -When Miss Davison rose to go, Gerard Buckland was not long in following -her. He came up with her before she reached the corner of the street, -and begged to be allowed to see her to the station. - -But she refused, saying quite gently that she must get used to going -about alone, and that it was the first step towards women’s rights. - -He looked pained. - -“I should have been so very grateful to you if you had let me call upon -you!” he said humbly, wistfully. - -Her face grew grave. - -“No,” she said; “I can’t do that. The plain truth is that my mother -has not yet got over a terrible change in circumstances which we’ve -suffered not long ago, and she can’t bear that anyone should see us in -what is practically a workman’s cottage. Prejudice again, of course, -but it has to be considered.” - -“May I hope for the pleasure of meeting you again at the Aldingtons?” - -“Oh, yes, I’m often there. I shall be very pleased to see you again -when I go there.” - -She gave him her hand and he was obliged to bid her good-bye and leave -her. - -But the impression she had made upon him was so strong, deepened, -no doubt, by the circumstances in which she was placed, and also, -perhaps, by her resolute attitude which was neither coquetry nor -prudery, but simply pride, that he could scarcely think of anything -for the next few days but the pale oval face and the big brown eyes, -alternately gay and grave, and the soft voice that was different from -the voices of other girls. - -He went to the Aldingtons assiduously after that, always hoping to -meet Miss Davison again. But each time he was disappointed, and at -last he grew ashamed of calling so often, and of being so dull when -he was there, and absented himself for a couple of months from the -old-fashioned Bayswater house and its gay circle. - -Then he called again, but only to hear that nothing had been seen or -heard of the Davisons for some time. At last, six months after his -meeting with Rachel, and while the remembrance of her face, her voice, -and her quietly outspoken opinions was still fresh upon him, Gerard met -Arthur Aldington one day in the Strand and was at once reproached for -neglecting them. - -Gerard made excuses, and asked after Miss Davison. - -Arthur’s face changed. - -“I don’t know what’s happened to them,” said he, with a perplexed -look. “I haven’t seen anything of any of them till a day or two ago. -And then”.... He checked himself, and said, “You were quite gone on -Rachel, weren’t you?” - -“I admired her immensely,” said Gerard. “I wanted to see her again, but -she wouldn’t let me call; said her mother didn’t like receiving people -in a cottage, after the sort of life she’d been used to.” - -Arthur smiled. - -“Oh, that was all rot,” said he simply. “Mrs. Davison is the most -fluffy, gentle old lady in the world. It was Rachel who was ashamed -of their simple way of living, always Rachel. She twists her mother -and sister round her little finger, and she could have had the entire -population of London to call if she’d chosen.” - -Gerard looked hurt. - -“She’s an odd girl,” went on Arthur. “The other day I met her for the -first time for months at the Stores. I went there to get some things -for mother, and I ran against Rachel. She was beautifully dressed, -looked awfully smart, and seemed quite confused at meeting me. She -didn’t answer when I asked her where she was living, but said her -mother was at Brighton and her sister at school in Richmond. And I -asked her why she hadn’t been to see us, and she said she had meant to -come, but had been busy. And she promised to come last Sunday, but she -didn’t.” - -“Is she living in town?” - -“I don’t know; but she’s doing well, anyhow. She looked remarkably -prosperous. She puzzled me altogether.” - -Gerard, whose interest in Rachel Davison had been revived and -strengthened by this meeting, and these details concerning the girl who -had roused his keen admiration, called next Sunday at the Aldingtons, -but only to be disappointed and still further puzzled by the accounts -he received of Rachel Davison. - -For Rose had met her, shopping at Marshall and Snelgrove’s, and Rachel, -who was exquisitely dressed and accompanied by a well-dressed but -undistinguished-looking man had cut her dead. - -“She’s married, I suppose, and to some sweep whom she doesn’t want to -introduce to us,” suggested Arthur. - -And Gerard’s spirits ran down to zero at the thought. - - - - -CHAPTER II - - -It was two months later than this meeting, and nearly eight months -after his first meeting with Rachel Davison, when Gerard Buckland, as -he was “doing” the Academy with a listless air on a hot afternoon in -June, came suddenly upon a sight which at once changed his listlessness -into excitement of the most violent kind. - -In front of him, with half a dozen Provincial and suburban loungers in -between, were two girls, both beautifully dressed, of whom Gerard at -once recognized the elder to be Rachel Davison. - -The transformation, however, from the plainly dressed and dowdy girl he -had met a few months ago at the Aldingtons, to the woman in a trained -dress of écru lace, with a big brown hat trimmed with long ostrich -plumes shading from palest pink to deepest crimson, was so amazing, so -complete, that he for a moment doubted whether he had made a mistake. - -For the change was not in dress only. The beauty of the brilliant -Rachel was of that type which is greatly enhanced by handsome dress, -and she appeared ten times more beautiful now than she had done in the -shabby clothes of the year before. - -The other girl Gerard guessed to be her sister, and a more charming -contrast it would have been impossible to find than that of the pale -dark beauty and the pink-and-white fair one beside her. - -The younger girl was dressed in an ankle-length skirt of black lace, a -blouse to match with elbow sleeves, and long black kid gloves to meet -them. Her large mushroom hat was black also, and the only relief to -the somber hue besides her golden hair and brilliant blonde coloring, -consisted in a bunch of sweet peas which was tucked into her dress. - -The good looks and smart appearance of the two girls attracted the -attention of the crowd in the rooms to such a degree that wherever they -went the people followed them, and Gerard had difficulty in forcing his -way through the admiring mob to Rachel’s side. - -The sight of her had confused his thoughts, made his heart beat fast, -and revived, with extra vividness, the intense interest he had from the -first felt in the girl. - -With some diffidence he greeted her, and was relieved to find that -she did not “cut” him, but holding out her hand with a smile, while a -little tinge of pink color appeared in her cheeks, greeted him by name, -thus showing that she had not, as he had feared, quite forgotten him. - -“I’ve been most anxious for the pleasure of meeting you again, and -I’ve asked the Aldingtons about you, but you haven’t been to see them -lately, they said,” he stammered, although he felt as he spoke that it -was rather a stupid thing to say. - -She blushed a little more. - -“I really haven’t much time for visiting now,” she said. “Let me -introduce you to my sister Lilian, Mr. Buckland. She’s at school at -Richmond, but I’ve brought her out for a day’s holiday.” - -“You are living in town now?” he asked. - -“Yes, I am staying with some friends. My mother is living down at -Brighton, and I divide my time between them,” said Miss Davison. - -Gerard hesitated. He wanted more than ever to know all about her, to -be able to meet her at her home, to renew the acquaintance which had -delighted and impressed him so much. But her words seemed to imply -quite clearly that she had no such wish on her side. - -“I--I had heard--the Aldingtons thought”--he stammered at last--“that -you were married.” - -She smiled. - -“I’m not a marrying girl,” she said. - -There was a pause and then he grew bold. - -“You’ve taken my advice and found an opening for your talents,” said he. - -Miss Davison looked alarmed. - -“What do you mean?” she said quickly. - -It was an awkward question to answer. He could not tell her that -whereas she had been shabby and ashamed of being seen in her mother’s -modest home a few months ago, now she was resplendent in expensive -clothes, and evidently as far removed as possible from the pinch of -poverty. - -“I mean,” he said diplomatically, “that from what I saw of you I am -sure you would not have failed to find some opening for your energies, -and” he dared to add, with a sly glance of admiration, “to judge by -what I see, you have succeeded.” - -The blush faded from Miss Davison’s face and gave place to a demure and -flickering smile. - -“We have had a little luck at last,” she said. “That’s all. It’s -nothing to do with me.” - -At that moment an elderly lady of distinguished appearance, who -appeared to be acting as chaperon to the two girls, came up to them -from the seat in the middle of the room, where she had been doing her -inspection of the pictures--and the people--without fatigue. Miss -Davison had to turn to talk to her, but she did not introduce him. So -he fell back upon the younger sister, who was full of excitement and -happiness over her holiday. - -“Don’t you find looking at pictures tiring?” asked he, for want of -something better to say. - -“Oh, no. You see this is a great treat for me, to come out with Rachel; -so nothing bores me, as it might anyone who could do this sort of thing -whenever he liked.” - -“You are very fond of your sister, I can see.” - -The girl’s face beamed with affection as she answered-- - -“I adore Rachel. She’s so wonderfully clever and energetic, and good to -us. Do you know that she has changed everything for mamma and me, by -her cleverness and her hard work?” - -“I’m not at all surprised,” said Gerard heartily. “I told her when -I met her first that I was sure she would find some opening for her -talents. She said she had none, but I knew better.” - -“No talents! Yes, isn’t it absurd? That’s what she always says,” cried -Lilian merrily. “A girl who can make eight hundred a year, without any -previous teaching or training, simply by drawing designs.” - -“Indeed!” said Gerard, admiring but almost incredulous at the -simplicity of the means. - -“Yes,” pursued Lilian confidently. “Of course she has to work very -hard, and she has to go about just where the firm that employs her -wants her to go. But she says she likes it, and certainly they treat -her very well.” - -Gerard was puzzled. That any firm should pay a designer eight hundred a -year, and want her to travel about for them seemed strange, he thought. -He had had a vague idea that a designer must go through a thorough -course of training before his talents were of much practical value; and -to learn that a girl who had had no experience of such work could, -within a few months, make such a large income was a surprise to him. - -“She must have to work very hard,” he said. - -“Yes, but she finds time to go about and enjoy herself too. That is -the wonderful part of it, and nobody could do it but Rachel,” babbled -on the pretty childlike seventeen-year-old sister proudly. “Old Lady -Jennings, whom she stays with, says she never sees her with a pencil in -her hand when she’s at home. But she has a little studio somewhere off -Regent Street--only she won’t tell us where, for fear we should go and -disturb her at her work,” added the girl ingenuously, “and when she has -anything important to do, she just shuts herself up there, and works -away for hours. I do wish I were clever like that!” she added wistfully. - -“I’ve no doubt you’re clever too, in some other way,” almost stammered -Gerard, puzzled and confused by the strange account the simple-hearted -schoolgirl had given him. - -He was conscious, even as he talked to the pretty child, that her -sister was watching them with anxiety. Was Rachel anxious that Lilian -should not be so frank? - -Old Lady Jennings, the distinguished-looking chaperon, seemed to be -anxious to have him introduced to her. But Rachel prevented this, and -contrived, without any appearance of incivility, to dismiss Gerard -within a few moments of the conversation he had had with her sister. - -He was disturbed, ruffled, rendered uneasy, and vaguely suspicious of -he knew not what. But the impression made upon him by Miss Davison -the elder, was stronger than ever, and he felt that he could not rest -until he had found out more about her, and fathomed the mystery which -appeared to surround her. - -The more he thought about it, the more certain he felt that the younger -sister must be under a misapprehension with regard to the income earned -by her sister. Either it was much smaller than she supposed, and Rachel -pretended that it was large, in order that the younger might not feel -that she was a burden, or else Rachel had some other employment, more -remunerative, to eke out her income. - -Was she on the stage? Though Gerard knew little about the theatrical -profession except from the outside, he was vaguely sure that incomes -of eight hundred a year cannot be made there except by actors and -actresses who have some training or experience, or who have made such a -mark for some special reason or other, that their names must be known -to everybody. - -That the girl in whom he felt such a strong interest would not stoop -to anything unworthy he felt sure. But that he remembered, with an -uneasiness which he could not stay, that singular treatment of her -friends the Aldingtons, for whom she had professed so much affection, -and yet whom she did not scruple to neglect and even to “cut,” without -any apparent reason. - -And why would she not let him be introduced to old Lady Jennings, when -the lady herself had evidently been willing, if not anxious, to know -him? Why did such a young woman choose to wrap her doings and her -whereabouts in a ridiculous mystery, which could not but be prejudicial -both to herself and her young sister? - -The whole thing was puzzling, irritating, and Gerard could think of -nothing else. - -He would have liked to think of Rachel Davison as he had seen her -first, and to honor her for her valiant efforts to restore to her -mother and sister the luxurious atmosphere of their old home, all by -her own hard work. - -Now, try as he would to dispel all doubts from his mind, he could not -but feel that there was a mystery about her which was disquieting. It -was true that this Lady Jennings, with whom she was staying, was a -woman with a high and even conspicuous position in the world. Not very -rich, she was a great connoisseur and a much sought after hostess, and -no girls on the threshold of life could have a better, a shrewder, or a -more trustworthy friend. - -But, on the other hand, Rachel had not been candid or truthful in her -statements to him: was it possible that she was equally lacking in -candor to others? - -She had told him that her prosperity was due to “luck,” and had -expressly stated that it had “nothing to do with her.” - -Now her sister had said frankly that this “luck” was due to her -sister’s talents and hard work. - -What did this discrepancy mean? - -Gerard worried himself unceasingly about this, for he could not get the -brilliant and beautiful Miss Davison out of his head. Lilian had said -that her sister had a little studio somewhere near Regent Street, where -she occupied herself with these wonderful designs which brought her in -so handsome an income. - -Mrs. Davison, she had said, lived at Brighton, and Rachel divided -her time between her mother and Lady Jennings, whose address Gerard -immediately set himself to discover. - -It was near Sloane Street, a small house, the position of which -suggested a rental quite out of proportion to its small size. - -Gerard took a walk in that direction, and looked wistfully at the -door at which he dared not knock. He felt himself to be growing even -dangerously sentimental about this girl, and told himself he was a fool -to think of a woman who certainly harbored no thought of him. - -And yet--there was the rub!--it had seemed to him, that afternoon at -the Academy, that Rachel looked at him with a certain expression which -suggested that, so far from having forgotten him, she retained almost -as vivid a remembrance of him as he did of her. This was not a fancy, -it was a fact, and it completed his subjugation to the tyranny of his -ideal. - -He began to haunt the West End, hovering between Sloane Street and -Regent Street until one evening, when there was a grand dinner-party -given, and a great crowd was assembled in one of the Squares in the -expectation of the arrival of royalty, he recognized, with a pang of -surprise and terror which almost made him cry out aloud, the face and -figure of Rachel Davison not far away from him. - -She was dressed in a shabby skirt and blouse, and an old, shapeless -black hat, but the disguise was ineffectual for him; he knew her at -once, and was about to approach her, and to address her, when suddenly -he saw her withdraw to the outskirts of the crowd, followed by a -thickset man rather above the middle height. Gerard, hiding himself -with a strange sickness at his heart, among the crowd, nevertheless -kept watch. - -And he saw her hand something bright and glistening to the man, and -then disappear absolutely from sight. - -Gerard staggered out of the crowd, faint as if he had received a -physical wound. - -Was Rachel a thief? - - - - -CHAPTER III - - -The incident happened so quickly, the appearance and disappearance from -Gerard’s sight of the disguised Rachel had been so sudden, so rapid, -so quiet, that it seemed as if the whole affair had been a vision, a -dream, anything but solid reality. - -Was he mistaken about the identity of the girl? - -Gerard began to think he must be. After all, it was night-time, there -was a great crowd of people about him, pushing and struggling, and -it was easy enough, in such circumstances, to mistake an accidental -likeness for a strong one. - -At least, this was what he told himself, desperately anxious not to be -forced to come to the conclusion that the girl he had just seen acting -in such a strange, and such a suspicious manner, was the beautiful -Rachel Davison who had made so great an impression upon him, whom he -could not forget. - -Although, however, he was unable to accept his own argument that he -might have been mistaken as to the identity of the woman, it was -still open to him to invent reasons why he might have been mistaken -as to what she was doing. He had believed he saw her hand to a man a -glittering ornament which looked like diamonds. And the impression had -brought vividly and painfully to his mind the remembrance of the first -occasion of his meeting Rachel, and of her display of nimbleness with -her fingers. - -There came back to his mind with unpleasant iteration the words she had -uttered about her accomplishment being good for nothing; unless she -meant to pick pockets. - -Of course she had uttered them lightly, and of course he had taken -them as a jest. Of course he knew too that the idea of connecting the -brilliant Miss Davison with the pursuits of a pickpocket was absurd, -revolting, horrible. - -He did not even, so he told himself, think the matter worth a second -thought. But he went on thinking of nothing else, and hurried away to -his rooms in Buckingham Street, oppressed by a sensation of discomfort -and depression, such as he could not remember having ever experienced -before. - -He stopped short suddenly as he was walking quickly along and tried -to remember what the man was like to whom he had seen her hand the -glittering object. - -But the whole episode had passed so swiftly, his own attention had been -so completely absorbed in the girl herself and in what she was doing, -that he had had no time or attention left for the man. He remembered -vaguely that the man’s back was turned to him, that he was tall and -broad-shouldered and that he wore a dark overcoat, but he could recall -no more details, try as he would. - -The man, too, appeared to have been an expert at rapid disappearance, -for when Gerard had turned to look for him he was gone. - -Supposing that Miss Davison, being a designer and therefore an artist, -had been in the habit of disguising herself in order to be able to -move about freely, and to see more of the world and of life than she -could in her own proper person. Surely there was a possibility of that! -There had been instances before of great artists passing themselves -off as people of a lower station, in order to gain information. And, -now he thought of it, it seemed to him highly probable, and not merely -possible, that this high-spirited and clever woman, always active and -on the alert for the means to make money for her family as well as for -herself, should make a practice of disguising herself in the dress of a -poor working-girl, in order the more readily to pass without attracting -comment among the crowds of London, and perhaps even to collect facts -which she could dress up into attractive press articles, or into book -shape, with the object of earning a larger income. - -The more he considered the matter, the more reasonable this idea -seemed. Her sister had said that she was a designer. Was it not more -than probable that that was what Rachel called herself, and that -her real occupation was that of a journalist, one of which her -old-fashioned mother would probably have disapproved if she had been -told of it. - -The little story grew in his mind until it seemed the likeliest -thing in the world. Rachel, anxious for something to do, aware of -her singular cleverness in gliding about without attracting too much -attention, had availed herself of the only means at her disposal of -earning a good income, by becoming a journalist; and, in order to get -the sort of first-hand knowledge of life necessary for her purpose, -she habitually went about disguised as a girl of the poorer classes. -Because she knew her mother would be distressed if she were to know -what profession her daughter followed, Rachel had given out that she -was an artist and designer, and so got the time she wanted to herself, -and represented herself as having a studio near Regent Street, in order -to account for the hours when she was occupied collecting information -for the editors who employed her. - -The longer he lingered upon this hypothesis, the more he liked it; but -in spite of his arguments, there lingered at the bottom of his mind a -vague fear that his little story was but a fiction after all. - -For what of the glittering thing he had seen her pass to the man? - -And what of the man? - -Even if his own fanciful theory were correct Gerard did not like the -intrusion of a man into the story. He could not deceive himself -about that. There had been a man in the case, apparently young, for -he appeared to be as active as herself, and--there had been that -glittering thing which he knew, after all, to be a diamond. - -What had the professional journalist to do with diamonds? What had she -to do with a man? - -Gerard resented his own fears, his own doubts, and, determined to solve -the mystery at no matter what cost, on the following afternoon he dared -to call at Lady Jennings’ house, and to ask boldly for Miss Davison. - -“Miss Davison is not here at present, sir,” said the footman. - -“She lives here does she not?” asked Gerard. - -“Oh, yes, sir, she lives here for the most part. But she has to spend -some time with Mrs. Davison at Brighton. She’s been down there for the -past three weeks, sir.” - -Gerard felt as if he had had a blow. For it was on the previous night -that he had seen, or believed he saw, Rachel in the crowd, and now he -was told that she was at Brighton! - -He was about to retire, very dissatisfied, and without knowing what -step he should take next to solve the problem which distressed him, -when a door opened into the hall and Lady Jennings, whom he remembered, -having seen her at Burlington House, came out and asked him to come in. - -She was a delightful old lady, with silver-white hair and keen eyes, -who dressed perfectly, and who was a little queen in her way. - -She was gowned in silver-gray satin with that profusion of rich-toned -old lace which every elderly lady who cares for her appearance should -never omit from her wardrobe. A knot of lace which yet was not a cap -was fastened in her beautiful white hair by two large-headed amber and -gold pins, and the rest of the jewelry she wore was old-fashioned, but -appropriate and handsome. - -She led Gerard into a long room with a dining-table at one end, and -every accessory of a boudoir at the other. Among her flowers and her -canaries, her fancy-work and her pet dogs she seated herself in a high -arm-chair which seemed specially designed to show off her handsome, -erect figure and clever, sympathetic face; and then her dark eyes -softened as she turned to her guest and said-- - -“And so your name is Buckland? Tell me, are you any relation to Sir -Joseph Buckland, of the Norfolk branch of the family?” - -“I am his grandson,” answered Gerard. - -“Dear me! How singular! And I danced with him at the ball he gave on -the coming of age of his eldest son!” - -“My uncle,” said Gerard. “He’s dead now.” - -“Dear me! Jo Buckland dead! Then you are the heir to the title, -surely!” - -“Yes, but not very much more, I’m afraid.” - -“Well, well, they tell me you’re very clever, and that you’ll bring -back fortune to the old house.” - -“Who told you that?” asked Gerard, surprised. - -“My protégé, Rachel Davison. She heard it from the people at whose -house she met you.” - -“The Aldingtons?” - -“Yes, that was the name. She seemed so much interested in you that -I’ve been anxious to know you ever since, especially as I thought you -might be related to my old friends. But Rachel is an odd creature. She -wouldn’t let me speak to you, and I thought perhaps she was jealous of -my attractions.” - -And the old lady laughed delightfully. - -“That may well have been,” said Gerard, smiling. - -Lady Jennings looked at him with keen, dark eyes. - -“Rachel’s an odd girl,” she said. “I’ve had her living with me for some -months now, but I can’t say I understand her yet, though I pride myself -on having some knowledge of human nature. She’s singularly attractive, -but eccentric, very eccentric.” - -“Yes,” said Gerard eagerly, “that’s just what I’ve thought. And that -makes her more interesting than other girls.” - -“Yes,” said the old lady rather slowly, “I suppose it does. But it’s -puzzling sometimes.” - -There was a pause for Gerard did not like to ask direct questions, -though he was dying to know in what way Rachel puzzled her clever old -friend. - -While he was wondering whether he dared put a discreet interrogation -about Rachel and her somewhat mysterious accomplishments, Lady Jennings -said abruptly-- - -“Do you believe in the doctrine, belief, theory--whatever you like -to call it, that every one of us in this world has his or her double -somewhere or other?” - -Gerard, scenting the approach of a confession bearing upon the supposed -discovery he had made of Rachel in an odd disguise, hesitated what to -reply. The old lady nodded. - -“I think you do,” she said solemnly. “Well, I never did till lately, -when an experience of my own made me begin to think there was something -in it.” - -“What experience was that?” asked Gerard, feeling that he was drawing -near to a similar story to his own. - -But Lady Jennings did not immediately answer. She raised the -gold-rimmed double-eyeglass which she wore dangling in front of her -from a long thin gold chain, and looked at a large portrait of Rachel, -which stood, framed and draped, on a little table near her. - -“A singular face! An unmistakable face!” said she, almost under her -breath. - -Gerard was alert and eager to hear more, but Lady Jennings suddenly -turned the conversation to another matter-- - -“And have you had your first brief yet?” she asked. - -“Yes, but not many of them,” answered Gerard, rather coolly, -disappointed at not having heard more of what he wanted to hear. - -“And do you ever go down to the old place?” - -“To my uncle’s? Oh yes, I go down every autumn to shoot, and always at -Christmas.” - -“Ask your uncle whether he remembers Dorothy Bellingham, and tell him, -if he does, that she has white hair now, but that she loves Norfolk and -the old Hall as much as ever.” - -“I won’t forget.” - -“And won’t you come and see us sometimes?” went on the old lady, with -an engaging smile. “I’m always pleased to see my friends, and I should -like Sir Joseph’s grandson to be my friend. I am always at home from -four to six, except on Sundays and in August and the early months of -the year. I love to have young people about me. And the young people -are an attraction to other young people, aren’t they?” she said archly. -“More often than not you will find Rachel Davison with me. She’s a -splendid secretary and does most of my correspondence.” - -“Your secretary, is she?” asked Gerard eagerly. - -“Not actually, but practically,” answered Lady Jennings. “I offered to -take her as my secretary when she was bemoaning the fact that she could -get no work to do, but the girl was too proud. She caught eagerly at -the idea of staying with me, and offered to do all my correspondence, -but she refused to accept any salary. Then, luckily, she developed this -unsuspected talent for design, and before many weeks were over she -was able to send money to her mother, to pay for her sister’s being -sent to a first-rate school, and to dress as she ought to dress. It’s -astonishingly clever of her, isn’t it?” - -“Most astonishing,” said Gerard emphatically. - -Was it fancy? Or did the old lady look at him inquisitively, as if -anxious to make out what he really thought? - -“And I never see her at work, that is the marvel. It’s true she has a -little studio where she draws most of her designs, and that she does -the rest down at Brighton, when she is staying with her mother. But -it’s wonderful to me that she can find time for it, when she is always -going about with me or with other friends.” - -“She is at Brighton now, is she not?” - -“Yes, she’s been down there for the last three weeks.” - -“May I know her address? I’m going down myself in a day or two, and -perhaps I might venture to call?” said Gerard. - -Lady Jennings caught at the suggestion, and at once seizing a piece of -paper from her writing-table, wrote down on it, with her gold-cased -pencil, an address on the sea-front, where she said that Mrs. Davison -was now living in rooms. - -She seemed quite eager to give him the address, and begged him to call -again upon her when he returned to town, and to tell her how Rachel -was, and her mother, and when the girl proposed to return to her. - -“Tell Rachel,” she said, “that she’s a naughty girl not to answer my -letters, and that I am getting into a dreadful muddle with my own -correspondence for want of her help.” - -Gerard rose, much pleased to have received this general invitation to -call when he liked, but went away puzzled and vaguely uneasy. - -Lady Jennings, he thought, was quite anxious for him to go to Brighton -to see Rachel. - -What new surprise would he find in store for him there? - - - - -CHAPTER IV - - -Gerard had made up his mind about the Brighton expedition even while -he was talking to Lady Jennings. He was full of conflicting thoughts, -hopes, and fears. - -On the one hand there was the assurance of a well-known and clever -woman of the world like Lady Jennings that Rachel Davison was a -charming girl, clever, high-principled, and generous to her family, -amazingly industrious and dutiful to her people, but amazingly proud as -well. - -And on the other hand there was the question of Lady Jennings as to -“doubles,” which made him ask himself--what he had not dared ask -her--whether she had herself fancied she met Rachel Davison in a -strange disguise. And there was the old lady’s statement that Rachel, -while at Brighton, never answered letters, and her evident anxiety for -him to go down there and see for himself what the girl was doing. - -Of course there was nothing so very amazing in this fact of the -disguise, if disguise it was, which he fancied he had seen Rachel -wearing. If, as he had supposed possible, she went about as a workgirl -to collect information or knowledge for literary or artistic work, it -might well be that she would not tell Lady Jennings all the details of -what she did in the way of her professional career. - -It seemed, indeed, as far as he could judge, as if this clever, -independent young woman were rather a puzzle to her own friends, and as -if they treated her with so much respect that they even condescended -to allow her to keep her own secrets. But Gerard himself felt that he -could not be thus content. Admiring Rachel Davison with an admiration -which grew ever more perilous to his peace of mind as the mysterious -circumstances connected with her made her more interesting, he felt -that the one thing more important than anything else to him at that -time was the solution of the mystery about her. - -And within a few days he was at Brighton, with the especial object of -finding out what he could about Rachel’s life while staying with her -mother. - -It was with a fast-beating heart and an uncomfortable feeling that he -had not come in an honest capacity, but in the character of a spy, that -Gerard rang the bell of the old-fashioned but substantial lodging-house -on the Brighton sea-front, the address of which had been given him by -Lady Jennings. - -He asked the maid who opened the door whether Miss Davison was at home. - -“No, sir, not Miss Davison; but Mrs. Davison is,” answered the servant -at once. - -Gerard decided at once to see Mrs. Davison and to find out something at -least about the mother of the girl in whom he was so much interested. -He had heard two different accounts of her; the one, from Rachel, -implied that she was a woman of some character, deeply suffering from -the change she had suffered in circumstances, and the other, from Rose -Aldington, which was quite another kind of person. - -He was shown into a sitting-room overlooking the parade, and there he -found a lady not yet past middle age, with hair scarcely touched with -gray, and so like her elder daughter that it was impossible to see the -one without being reminded of the other. - -Mrs. Davison remembered the name, when Gerard was announced, and -welcoming him with an outstretched hand, said-- - -“Ah, Mr. Buckland, I have heard something about you from both my -daughters, and I am very glad to make your acquaintance.” - -Gerard was surprised and much pleased to hear this, though he wondered -in what way he had been mentioned by the girls. Mrs. Davison, who -seemed a placid, happy-looking woman, and who had laid down her novel -when he came in, and begun to fondle a white Persian cat who resented -the attention after the manner of his kind, invited him to take a chair -near her, and asked him if he was staying in Brighton. - -“Only for a day,” said he; “but I was so anxious to make your -acquaintance, knowing your two daughters, as I have the pleasure of -doing, that I thought I would venture to call.” - -“I’m very glad you did,” said Mrs. Davison. “To tell you the truth, -although I’m so handsomely lodged here, through the cleverness and hard -work of my eldest daughter--which I daresay you know all about, Mr. -Buckland, I’m rather lonely down here. You see, although Brighton is -near London, it is not quite the same thing for one’s friends to take a -hansom or an omnibus to come and see one, as to take the train.” - -“Of course not. I wonder you didn’t settle in London, since you are so -much alone,” said Gerard. - -Mrs. Davison sighed with resignation. - -“It was a fancy of my daughter Rachel’s,” she explained, “that I -should be happier down here by the sea. But I sometimes think, though -I haven’t liked to say so, that I would rather have had a tiny flat -somewhere nearer my friends in town.” - -She spoke very gently, but it was evident that she suffered more -acutely than she liked to own from her isolation. - -“But you often have your daughters with you, don’t you?” asked Gerard, -feeling as he asked the question, uncomfortably like a spy. - -“Not so very often,” answered the lady in a tone of mild regret. -“Lilian is at school, and I don’t see her except during the holidays. -And Rachel lives with Lady Jennings, as perhaps you know. I couldn’t -interfere with that arrangement, because, of course, socially it’s such -a good thing for my girl to live with a woman who goes about so much -as Lady Jennings does. And through Rachel’s pride and energy, she is -able to earn her own living and so to keep her independence, while Lady -Jennings is very grateful for her help and companionship.” - -“But isn’t Miss Rachel staying with you now?” asked Gerard, in a -stifled voice, remembering that Lady Jennings had said the girl had -been with her mother for the past three weeks. - -“Oh no, I haven’t seen anything of her for more than a month. She’s -with Lady Jennings.” - -Gerard said nothing to this; indeed he felt as if he could not have -spoken to save his life. In spite of all the fears and doubts which -had previously troubled him concerning Rachel Davison, in spite of -what he had seen with his own eyes and heard with his own ears, he had -never once supposed her capable of such elaborate and carefully planned -deceit as that of which he now found her to be the author. - -For what was this story, as it was now unfolded to him? Nothing less -than a deliberate lie acted continually and consistently, not only to -her mother but to Lady Jennings? - -For the past three weeks each of these two ladies had supposed Rachel -to be living with the other, and during that time he himself had had -what he now began to think was absolute ocular proof, that she had -been living in London disguised as a workgirl all the while. - -Of course it was true that the hypothesis that she was engaged in -sensational journalism held good still. It might be that Rachel, -knowing neither her mother nor Lady Jennings would approve of the way -in which she would have to gain actual experience by living among -people of a much lower social rank than her own, had devised this -method of keeping her experiences a secret from them. But even if this -were true, Gerard felt that it was too daring a step for a young woman -to take without the support and advice of some older member of her own -sex. - -And then--the episode of the flashing ornament handed to the man! - -He wished that he could do one of two things: either look upon all this -that he had heard and seen concerning Rachel and her adventures as the -work of imagination, or fact distorted by imagination; or else that he -could give up thinking about a girl who, whatever her strength of mind -and her brilliancy of intellect, was undoubtedly not entirely to be -trusted either in her words or in her conduct. - -“Oh yes, of course--with Lady Jennings,” he stammered. - -Mrs. Davison noticed the absence of mind with which he answered the -next questions she put to him; and he, perceiving this and anxious not -to betray what he thought or felt, exerted himself to reply and to -conceal the effect made upon him by her statement about her daughter. - -But then she put a most disconcerting question. - -“Do you know Lady Jennings?” - -“Yes, slightly.” - -“You have met Rachel at her house?” - -“No, Miss Davison was not there when I called.” - -“When was that?” - -“It was about a week ago.” - -“Did you see any of her drawings?” - -“N-no,” answered Gerard nervously, knowing as he did that these same -drawings appeared never to have been seen by mortal eye. - -“It’s most extraordinary,” prattled on Mrs. Davison, who was evidently, -poor lady, delighted to have someone to break the monotony of the -life which her daughter obliged her to lead, “that Rachel should have -developed a talent for design, for there has never been any sort of -artistic ability in the family, on either side. But I suppose when -a girl is very clever, like my Rachel, her talent develops in any -direction where it is most wanted.” - -To this theory Gerard could only make a somewhat vague reply, and Mrs. -Davison laughed a little and apologized for talking about nothing but -her children. - -“But,” went on the simple-hearted lady with feeling, “really the way in -which my daughter has changed everything for us by her own strong will -and her own exertions, is to me a marvel which shuts out everything -else from my mind.” - -He congratulated her, and had tea with her, and enjoyed the society of -the simple old gentle-woman, with a strange undefined hope in his mind -all the while that Rachel, the brilliant, the puzzling, the mysterious, -would some day develop upon the same lines, if with greater breadth of -view and intelligence, as this kindly and feminine personality. - -Mrs. Davison let him go with evident regret and begged him to call on -Lady Jennings and to give Rachel her love. - -Gerard received this tender message with a pang. It seemed to him to -argue more mystery, and more undesirable secrecy, about Rachel’s mode -of life, that her mother should not dare to go up to London to see her -elder daughter, but should confide her messages to a chance visitor. - -He went back to town uneasier than ever about the girl whom, in spite -of all that he had learned, he began to think that he admired more than -ever. - -He had discovered beyond a doubt that she was capable of elaborate -deceit, that she was pursuing some calling of which her relations and -friends knew nothing; and yet, while he remembered the incident of the -flashing ornament, and the further incident of the unknown man, he felt -that he could not give her up, that he must find her out and know the -truth about her. - -It was a few days after his visit to Brighton, and while he was -debating how soon he might venture to call again upon Lady Jennings, -and whether he should find Rachel there if he did, when he saw, one -afternoon in Bond Street, a victoria waiting outside a shop. Leaning -back in it was a beautifully dressed woman whom he recognized, even -before he got near enough to see her face, as Rachel Davison. - -She was dressed in écru-colored lace over pale pink, and her sunshade -matched her gown. A hat of pale pink with écru-colored outstanding -feathers completed an elaborate and handsome toilet. - -Gerard was suddenly convinced, as he had not been before, that it was -she, and no other, whom he had met, in the shabby frock and battered -hat, that night in the crowd. He went up to the side of the carriage -and raised his hat, feeling, as he did so, as if the excitement and the -suspicions he felt must be discernible in his looks. - -It seemed to him that she looked startled on seeing him, and that her -manner was rather more reserved and distant than there appeared to be -any reason for. He was sure that she had not recognized him that night -in the crowd; and the only thing he could think of to account for her -coolness was that perhaps her mother had spoken or written to her about -his call, and Lady Jennings about his visit to her, so that the girl -had begun to wonder whether he was playing the spy upon her movements. - -It seemed to him as he greeted her and she bowed to him, not holding -out her hand, that she looked paler than ever. Her natural complexion -was colorless, a fact which added, in his eyes, to her exquisite -charm and air of extreme refinement. But now he thought it was almost -ghastly; and though he told himself that this might be due either to -the effect of the pink dress she wore, or to the effect of the season’s -gayeties and other exertions, he asked himself whether it was not more -probably the result of intense nervous strain. - -The elaborate deceit of the life she led, whatever her motives might -be, must, he thought, be exhausting and depressing even to the most -splendid vitality. - -“Have you seen anything of the Aldingtons lately?” he asked, by way of -something to say which should lead to no awkwardness in replying. - -“Nothing whatever. I am so busy that I really haven’t time to go and -see them, and I don’t know what I shall say when I do to excuse myself.” - -“They will take any excuse, rather than not have the pleasure of seeing -you,” suggested Gerard. “I’m sure that would be their feeling, as it -would be mine.” - -“Well, I shall be going away in a week or two, and I shan’t be able to -get to Bayswater before then, I’m quite sure. Besides, I fancy they -always go up the river in the summer, and shut up the London house -altogether.” - -“Have you been in town all the season?” asked Gerard. - -And against his will he felt that there was a look in his face, a tone -in his voice, which betrayed more than he wished her to know. - -She looked startled, as she had done on first meeting him. - -“I’ve had to go down and see my mother, and I’ve been to Richmond to -see my sister,” she answered rather shortly. “And you, have you been -away yet?” - -“Yes, I was at Brighton last week.” - -“Brighton?” She glanced at him quickly. - -“I called upon Mrs. Davison, in the hope of seeing you, Miss Rachel,” -said he boldly. “I had previously called at Lady Jennings’ house--” - -“So I heard,” cut in Miss Davison with a frown. “I was rather surprised -to hear it.” - -Gerard, determined to go through with the business now that he had made -the plunge, summoned all his courage, and said-- - -“I hope you were not angry with me for calling.” - -“Why did you do it?” asked Miss Davison sharply. - -Once more he gathered together all his courage, and replied more boldly -than before, as he came a step nearer and put his hand on the side of -the victoria. - -“I did it because I had been tantalized by one meeting with you, and I -could not wait patiently till chance put me in the way of another. I -therefore called, first on Lady Jennings and then at Mrs. Davison’s, in -the hope of seeing you.” - -Miss Davison seemed alarmed, he thought, though she laughed lightly, -and affected to be rather amused. - -“To look for such a busy, hardworked creature as I am, in any -particular spot, is rather a hopeless task,” she said. “I have been so -overworked lately that I have had to threaten to take a long holiday if -I am not allowed a little more relaxation.” - -He hesitated and then said quickly-- - -“I suppose it’s asking too much to beg you to let me call at your -studio and see these designs which have made so great a mark.” - -She smiled. - -“A great deal too much,” she said. “I never let anyone see me at my -work. Indeed, having to get through it in a totally inadequate time, on -account of social engagements I won’t and can’t give up, I couldn’t do -it unless I made it a rule that I should be left uninterrupted. Even -my own friends are not allowed to visit me in my professional den. I’m -an advanced woman, you see, strong-minded, and all that,” she added -lightly. “The mere feminine holder of a latch-key is a slave compared -to me.” - -But Gerard, who saw that she kept looking at the draper’s shop in front -of which the victoria was standing, as if anxious to get rid of him, -was not going to take his dismissal until he had paved the way for the -explanation which he was by this time determined that she should give -him. - -“You are waiting for someone?” he asked. - -“Yes, for Lady Jennings. This is her carriage, not mine. She is buying -something that ought to have been chosen and paid for in five minutes, -but she has our sex’s proverbial inability to make up its mind.” - -“Shall I go and look for her, and tell her you’re tired of waiting?” - -“Oh no, I could scarcely permit that, since I got out of helping her by -saying I was tired--as indeed I am--and that I should like the rest out -here.” - -“You do look as if you wanted rest,” said Gerard steadily. “I am sure -you work too hard. Not only at your social duties, and your designs, -but--in other ways.” - -Miss Davison’s pale face flushed suddenly. - -“What other ways?” she asked quietly. - -“You do a good deal in the way of journalism, I think,” he said. - -“Do I? How do you know?” - -“Do you remember the night of the fête at Lord Chislehurst’s, when the -king and queen were expected?” - -Miss Davison did not reply in words. But she changed her attitude, and -sitting upright, bowed her head as a sign to him to go on. - -“There was a tremendous crowd outside, and I saw you there.” - -She raised her eyebrows incredulously. If she was surprised and -disturbed, as he believed, she concealed her feelings perfectly. - -“You saw me--outside--in a crowd of that sort?” she said disdainfully. - -He nodded with confidence. - -“Not dressed as you are now, and not looking as you do now. You were -well disguised for your purpose--of journalism--in a hat and coat -which would make you laugh if you were to see them on the stage, for -instance. I thought the disguise very clever, but I remembered your -face too well to be mistaken.” - -“You were mistaken, though,” retorted Miss Davison with a forced laugh. - -But he stuck to his guns. - -“I think not,” he said gently. “I watched you for some time. I--I -watched you till--till you gave something to--someone else--a man, and -then disappeared.” - -If he had had doubts before, he had none then. Miss Davison said -nothing, but she sat so still, with such a fixed look of terror and -dismay upon her handsome face, that he was smitten to the heart, and -felt himself a brute to have tortured her, even though the knowledge of -what he had seen could not be kept to himself, and though it was the -greatest kindness he could do her to confide it in the first place to -her ears. - -It seemed quite a long time before she spoke. Then she turned to him -sharply, and said in a voice which sounded hard, metallic, unlike her -own-- - -“You have made a most curious, a most unaccountable mistake. You have -left me quite dumb. I don’t know what to say.” - -He paused, and then asked in a low voice-- - -“May I tell what I saw to Lady Jennings?” - -“For Heaven’s sake--no,” cried she hoarsely. - - - - -CHAPTER V - - -There was a long pause when this exclamation escaped the lips of Miss -Davison. - -She sat back, trembling and silent, staring out before her as if -unconscious of the presence of Gerard Buckland, who, holding the side -of the victoria with fingers which tightened as he stood, looked into -the girl’s face with agony which he could not repress. For surely -her exclamation was a confession! If she had no connection with the -working-girl whom he had seen in the crowd on the night of the fête, -why should she mind what he told Lady Jennings? Yet at his suggestion -that he should speak to the old lady about what he had seen, Rachel had -shown the most helpless terror. - -She presently recovered her composure, sat up in the carriage and -smiled faintly. - -“I don’t know,” she said, “why I should mind your telling Lady Jennings -whatever you please. But it is, perhaps, a little disconcerting to be -frankly and candidly disbelieved, and the experience is new and strange -to me.” - -Gerard hesitated what to say. - -“All I want to say to her,” he said, in a low voice which he could not -keep steady, “is that I think you do rash things, and that you want -someone to take care of you, as you are too reckless as to what you do -yourself.” - -Miss Davison looked at him with a frown. - -“Do you still persist then,” said she, “in believing that it was I you -saw that night in the crowd opposite Chislehurst House?” - -Gerard met her eyes fairly and frankly. - -“I’m quite sure of it,” he said simply. - -“Most extraordinary!” said she. - -He was annoyed with her for persisting in her pretense that he was -mistaken. - -“And I am sure,” he went on stubbornly, “that Lady Jennings has an idea -that there is something strange going on.” - -Miss Davison was prepared for this, evidently. - -“I shouldn’t like to answer for all the fancies the dear old lady takes -into her head,” she said. “But I’m sorry that you should think it -necessary to encourage her in them.” - -He could say nothing to this, but drew back, growing very red. Raising -his hat, he was about to withdraw without another word, when Miss -Davison, suddenly sitting up again, imperiously made an emphatic -gesture of command to him to return. Then looking him full in the face -she said coldly-- - -“I object to your trying to make mischief, Mr. Buckland, between Lady -Jennings and me.” - -“I don’t want to make mischief, Miss Davison; I want to get your -friends to take more care of you.” - -His tone was so quiet, so stubborn, that she looked frightened again. -There was something feminine, helpless about her look and manner when -she was threatened, which touched him and made him sorry that he had -to seem so harsh. But remembering as he did the reference made by Lady -Jennings to the doctrine of “doubles,” he was sure that the old lady -guessed something, and he knew that, at all costs, he must find out the -meaning of what he had seen. - -After a short pause, Miss Davison burst into a light laugh. - -“My friends, Mr. Buckland, my real friends,” she said coolly, “have a -strong impression that I don’t need looking after, that I can take care -of myself.” - -“Yes, I’ve no doubt you can take all the care of yourself that a girl -can take,” said he boldly; “but that is not enough, Miss Davison, if -I may daresay so, in the case of a lady as beautiful as you are and -as determined to let nothing stand in the way of carrying out her -ambitions.” - -Miss Davison, who had by this time quite recovered her outward -serenity, laughed. - -“I can’t see what ambition would be served by standing about in a -London crowd in clothes not one’s own,” she said. “It sounds to me like -the act of a lunatic; but as Lady Jennings considers me eccentric -already, I have no doubt, if you were to choose to put the notion into -her head, she would think me quite capable of what you suggest you saw -me do. In that case I should simply have to leave her house, where I am -very comfortable and very useful to her. For she would certainly worry -my life out, and I would not submit to that from anybody.” - -Gerard bowed, but he did not promise, as she wished him to do, to say -nothing to Lady Jennings. There was another short silence. - -“I am afraid you will think me a bore, Miss Davison, for obtruding upon -you so long,” said he, in another attempt to get away. - -She detained him instead. - -“Are you going to speak to Lady Jennings--and--and my mother?” she -asked imperiously. - -“If there is nothing in my fancy, what harm is there in my mentioning -to both the ladies the extraordinary coincidence?” said he. “It would -prepare them, at any rate, for other such coincidences--which will most -certainly arise in the future.” - -And he tried to retreat. - -“I can’t let you frighten my poor old mother, and worry Lady Jennings -to death,” she said imperiously. “I must speak to you. I can’t here of -course; but I must explain.” - -Explanation was just what he wanted, and Gerard’s heart beat high at -the word. - -“Shall I call--” he began. - -She interrupted him by a shake of the head. - -“No, no,” she said. “How can we talk before her? Let me see.” She took -out an engagement book from her carriage pocket, and glanced at it -reflectively. - -“Will you meet me to-morrow somewhere and take me to tea?” she said. - -“I shall be delighted.” - -“I’ll get Lady Jennings to lend me the victoria to-morrow, and meet you -outside Lyons’ tea room at four. Will that do?” - -She spoke with the air of an angry empress, cold, reserved, with a -suggestion of suppressed thunder in look and voice. Gerard went away in -a state of bewilderment impossible to describe. - -Not only was he now quite sure that it was she whom he had seen in the -crowd, but he knew that she had the strongest possible objection to -its being known that she led a double life. He could not understand -it. If she had been a clever “sensational” journalist, with subjects -to work up by actual observation, as he had at first supposed, there -was no reason in the world why she should not have confessed the fact -to him. Although he was not an intimate friend of hers, she knew him -quite well enough for an ordinary girl to feel sure that he could be -trusted with a paltry little secret such as that. It was true that -she might naturally prefer to keep her own counsel to her friends on -such a point: old ladies would certainly feel nervous about such an -undertaking on the part of a handsome young girl as the passing under a -disguise. - -But when she was found out, and by a man, surely common sense ought -to have suggested to her that confession was the only safe course! If -she had told him simply that she wore a disguise in the course of her -professional pursuits, and had begged him to keep her little secret, -she might have been sure of his delighted acquiescence, and of his -satisfaction in the thought that he knew something about her which she -wished to keep unknown to the world in general. - -Considering the high level of her intelligence, Gerard was greatly -surprised and disturbed at her obstinacy. - -But he told himself that she would certainly be more open on the -following day, and that she would tell him, if not all the truth, at -least enough to endeavor to engage his loyalty in keeping her secret. - -Yet in spite of these reflections, Gerard felt that there was still -something ugly about what he had seen. That passing of the flashing -stone to an unknown man, and then the prompt disappearance of the two -persons! What was he to think of that? What would she say when he told -her, pointblank, as he meant to do, that that was what he saw? - -There was all the time underlying his admiration for this beautiful, -spirited girl, a sickening horror of what might be in store for him -when he should learn all the truth. It was not, could not be possible -that she was a common thief, that the money she earned was made by -practices of absolute dishonesty. And yet, the longer he lingered -upon the circumstances, the more he thought about that interview with -Rachel that afternoon, the more he wondered whether there was something -horrible, something dishonorable about the whole affair. - -That she was not a designer or artist he was by this time quite sure: -every circumstance confirmed him in his opinion. No artist worthy the -name can live long without a pencil in his hand; yet no one appeared -ever to have seen her at this mysterious work which brought in eight -hundred a year! - -That notion then he took to be disposed of. - -He had suggested to her that she was a journalist, and if she had been -one, common sense would have made her confess at once and add that she -did not wish the fact generally known. - -What then was left? She could not possibly be on the stage without the -knowledge and consent of either Lady Jennings or her mother. - -What other calling was open to her? - -She had herself bewailed the fact that women can do so little, and that -so few callings were really open to them. - -Yet here was she, admittedly without training in any direction, making -what must be a good income. - -Gerard tormented himself all that day and the next by these and similar -thoughts, all leading in the same unpleasant and unwelcome direction. - -The next day when he was waiting outside the tea room in Piccadilly, he -was in such a state of morbid excitement and harassed thought, that he -wished he had asked her to put off the appointment, to give him time -to find out, before seeing her again, what he wanted to know about her -mysterious way of life. - -He had not to wait very long, for Rachel, being used to business -appointments, was punctual. He soon saw Lady Jennings’ victoria driving -up, and saw that Rachel herself, very quietly but well-dressed in -striped black and white silk, with black hat, black gloves, and a black -and white sunshade, was the sole occupant. - -He helped her out of the carriage and saw that she looked rather -flushed, a fact which added to her beauty, and then he led her into the -tea room. - -They were early, so they had their choice of a table, and seated -themselves near enough to the little orchestra for the music to help to -cover their conversation, which they knew was going to be serious. - -It was some time, however, before Gerard dared to broach the subject -upon which Miss Davison had promised to enlighten him. - -He could not very well say, “And now for an explanation!” but had to -wait her good pleasure. - -Miss Davison, however, seemed to have forgotten the reason of their -meeting. She chatted gaily, ate buttered scones hungrily, saying that -she had been too hard at work to have any luncheon, and enjoyed herself -in looking about her, which she did with a certain keenness which was -not at all like the casual glance of the ordinary girl out to tea. - -It was not until they had nearly finished tea, and when there was a -short silence, that Gerard dared to say-- - -“I have been thinking all night about our meeting yesterday, and about -what you said to me.” - -He was nervous, agitated. Miss Davison clasped her hands, and turned to -him superbly-- - -“And what was that?” she asked. - -But he would not be silenced like that. Gathering all his courage, he -said-- - -“You know you promised me an explanation of--of what I told you I -saw--that night--in front of Lord Chislehurst’s--in the crowd.” - -“And what was that? Tell me exactly what you did see,” said she -imperiously. - -And if she was disturbed she hid the fact very thoroughly indeed. - -He hesitated, and then said steadily-- - -“I saw you--in a poor sort of dress, with a large, flopping black hat -bent out of shape and with a feather out of curl that hung over it and -shaded the eyes, standing alone--or you seemed to be alone, in the -crowd. Then I saw you hand something that flashed--I think,” he added, -bending forward to speak low and hurriedly, “it was diamonds or a -diamond--to a man, who took it from you. And then you disappeared, and -so did he, so completely that I did not see a trace of either of you -again.” - -Miss Davison listened with an unmoved face. - -“And what,” she said, when he had finished, as she put her elbows on -the table, still with her hands laced together, and looked at him with -a sort of scornful challenge, “did you think of that?” - -Once more he hesitated. Then he said-- - -“I did not know what to think, Miss Davison.” - -She smiled with the same superb scorn. - -“Did you,” she asked majestically, as she looked at him through her -eyelashes with an air of ineffable contempt, “think I was a thief?” - -The blood rushed to his cheeks. - -“How can you ask me such a question?” he stammered. - -“But,” persisted she, “I don’t know what else you can mean, if -you really saw what you say you did, and if you put upon it the -construction which anybody else would put.” - -“You said,” he murmured, in a hoarse whisper, “that you would explain.” - -“Well,” said she, “what do you want me to say? Do you want me to assure -you that I am not a thief?” - -“Of course not.” - -“Do you want me to say that it was not I you saw?” - -He drew a long breath. - -“You can’t say that,” he retorted passionately. - -“Oh yes, I can, and I do,” said Rachel slowly. “Forgive me, Mr. -Buckland, if I’ve seemed to take this too lightly, but the truth is -that the whole affair is a desperately serious one for me. That girl -has roused suspicions in more people than one, and will again, I’m -afraid.” - -“What girl?” - -“The one you saw--my ‘double’--Maud Smith, as she calls herself, a -well-known thief.” - -Gerard sat back and looked at her incredulously. Then he bent forward -again, and looking earnestly, entreatingly into her face, asked-- - -“Do you mean to tell me that the girl I saw that night was not you?” - -“I can answer for that,” she said. “What should I be doing in a crowd -at that time of night--and picking pockets?” - -“Oh, I didn’t say that!” - -“Didn’t you? I think you implied it, though. You saw this girl pass -jewelry to another person. And then you saw no more of them. Is any -other explanation possible than that they were a couple of thieves?” - -It seemed to him callous, horrible, for her to put his unspoken dread -into simple, straightforward speech. He shrank before her as she did so. - -“I--I thought perhaps I was mistaken, and that--” - -“But you were not,” she interrupted sharply. “It is the bane of my -life, that this girl, who is, I am sorry to say, a relation of mine--” - -“A relation?” - -“A near relation,” she repeated solemnly. “I say it is the greatest -trial I have to put up with that she should go about as she does, and -lead the dishonest career she does, and that the likeness between us -should be so strong that not you only, but two or three more of my -friends have seen her and have thought--what you thought,” she added -quickly. - -He tried to look as if he believed her, but failed. - -“And you say her name is Maud Smith?” - -“No, I said she called herself so. Her real name, unfortunately, is -much more like mine. So far she has escaped detection and conviction, -though often only by the skin of her teeth. Until she is taken up and -convicted I suppose I shall be exposed constantly to the same annoyance -of having her mistaken for me.” - -“But won’t it be a great scandal for the family?” - -“Not necessarily. Her real name might not come out. But even if it did, -I think it would be better than for me to suffer the constant misery -of being mistaken myself for a pickpocket, and by people who ought to -know me better,” she ended with a flash of anger. - -Gerard hung his head, but he could not feel very guilty. - -“The resemblance is indeed extraordinary,” he murmured. - -She shook her head with a bitter little laugh. - -“I see you don’t believe it is only a resemblance,” she said. “Then -pray what do you think about it? At least I know. You must believe that -I pick pockets for a livelihood.” - -“Miss Davison!” - -“Well, what other explanation is possible?” - -He sat back again, pained and uneasy. - -“I wish,” he burst out suddenly, “that you would let me see you and -this girl--side by side.” - -She smiled contemptuously. - -“I see you don’t believe what I’ve told you,” she said. - -“Frankly, I can’t.” - -“You can’t believe that a face seen for a few moments--in a crowd--in -the darkness--surmounted by an old tawdry hat with a bedraggled -feather--was any other than mine?” - -Gerard replied stoutly-- - -“Well, no I can’t. I could believe myself mistaken with regard to any -other person’s face. I could think I had let my imagination play tricks -with me; but not with your face.” - -“Why not with mine?” - -Their heads were close together, the music was playing, and there was -nobody near enough to hear. So he blurted out the words which he had -that morning thought it impossible that he should ever say to this -woman who charmed him, but tantalized him at the same time. - -“Because I love you.” - -“You love a pickpocket?” - -“No, no, no.” - -“But it’s the same thing, isn’t it?” - -“No. I don’t believe your explanation; I can’t. But I don’t believe -either that you could be guilty of anything that was not absolutely -honorable and right. I’d rather believe that my own senses had betrayed -me than believe one word of anything but good about you.” - -When he had once begun Gerard found himself fluent enough. He -would rather have expected, if he had left himself time to expect -anything, that Miss Davison would have affected to scoff at his abrupt -confession, and would have laughed at him and as it were brushed him -from her path with scorn, putting on airs of indignation that he should -dare to make a sort of accusation against her in one breath, and a -declaration of love to her the next. - -But she did nothing of the sort. On the contrary, he saw her face -change, the muscles tremble, the head bend, and a tear glitter in her -eye. - -“Thank you,” she said, in a hoarse whisper. “I--I--we’d better go now, -I think. Lady--Lady Jennings--” - -She did not finish her sentence, but rose from her chair, put out a -trembling hand for her sunshade, and began to walk up the long room. - -When they were outside, Gerard, who was surprised and infinitely -distressed at the unexpected effect of his words upon her, said humbly-- - -“Are you very angry with me?” - -“Yes,” said Miss Davison. - -But her tone belied her words: it was gentle, soft, womanly, almost -tender. - -He grew bolder. - -“Not very angry, I think?” he suggested, as they stood in the gathering -crowd on the curbstone, neither quite sure what they were going to do -next. - -“Yes, I’m very angry,” said she. “You’ve accused me of disgraceful -things, and then you’ve dared--” - -“Well, what have I dared?” ventured he, seeing that the anger she -talked about was of the kind that usually melts on being challenged. - -“Oh, don’t let us talk nonsense,” said Miss Davison. - -“Is the carriage to meet you here? Or may I take you--” - -“Where to?” - -“Anywhere you want to go to.” - -“I sent the victoria away,” she said, “to meet Lady Jennings, and I -don’t suppose it will come back for me.” - -“Let me take you to see pictures, or something. Do.” - -Something in her manner, in her tone, had suddenly made him forget -everything in the consciousness that she was not so indifferent as she -pretended. He felt that the explanation she had promised him having -turned out so unsatisfactorily, he had a right to a better one, and he -thought that, if she would only be coaxed into spending a little more -time in his society, he should get it. - -She hesitated. Then she looked at her watch. - -“It’s five o’clock,” she said. “We might fill up the time somehow till -seven, when I have to be home to get ready for dinner.” - -Gerard hailed a hansom, and helped her in. - -“Where are we going to?” asked she. - -“To the park,” said he. “The part where the people aren’t, and where we -can talk.” - -Bold as the speech was, he had been confident that it would meet with -no challenge. - -And it did not. - - - - -CHAPTER VI - - -The hansom went quickly through the streets, and took them, as Gerard -had said, to that quiet northern end of the park where scarcely a -breath of the world’s life is ever drawn. - -They got out and wandered into the little-frequented paths, by this -time destitute even of the children and nursemaids whom they would have -found at an earlier hour. - -Both the young people felt that they were enjoying a sort of -surreptitious picnic, an unconventional, ridiculous _tête-à-tête_ which -was all the more pleasant and all the more exciting from the fact -that they stood each on the defensive towards the other: Rachel still -affecting a haughty indignation at his suspicions; Gerard humble but -unconvinced of the truth of her story. - -“Well,” she said, breaking the silence, “you told me you were going to -bring me here to talk. What are we to talk about?” - -“I don’t care. Talk about anything, as long as I can hear you speak.” - -“But you don’t believe what I say!” - -He hesitated. - -“What does that matter?” he asked at last. - -She stopped short and faced him, but there was no longer any pretense -at fierceness in her tone. She was argumentative, and she was charming. - -“I don’t like to be disbelieved,” she said; “and I’m not used to it. -I resent it, indeed; for you can’t respect a person whom you don’t -believe.” - -“Oh yes, you can. I don’t quite believe something you told me half an -hour ago, but I respect and admire you more than any woman I ever met.” - -“But that’s inconsistent!” - -“Very likely.” - -“You can’t really respect a woman whom you believe to be incapable of -speaking the truth.” - -“Of course one couldn’t. But I don’t think anything of the kind about -you. I think that you have told me what is not true, but I take it that -you had your own reasons for doing so, and you are in no way bound to -tell me anything but what you please.” - -Miss Davison seemed surprised and touched by these words, and said-- - -“I suppose you think that is very magnanimous.” - -“No; very silly. If it were any other woman but you, Miss Davison, I -shouldn’t be such a fool.” - -“Your compliments are rather left-handed; don’t you think so?” - -“They are not meant to be compliments at all. I tell you quite plainly, -without any compliment, that I admire you more than any woman I have -ever met, and that I am ready to accept from you conduct which I -should think dangerous and absurd in anybody else.” - -“How is my conduct dangerous and absurd? Do you mean in coming here -with you?” - -“No,” said he, smiling. “I mean I think it is dangerous to go about -disguised only just enough to be recognized easily by people who know -you. And absurd not to confess your little secret at once to me, who, -as you must see for yourself, am much too far gone to be capable of -anything but the most extravagant rapture at being trusted by you.” - -He had done with reserve now, and he told her steadily and -straightforwardly his story, in tones which left no doubt as to the -genuineness of his feeling. - -“You are right,” she said softly, after a pause, “to call yourself -silly.” - -“Well, won’t you take pity on my feeble intellect and tell -me--something more?” - -She shook her head. - -“I’ve told you,” she said stubbornly, “all there is to tell. If you’ve -inveigled me here in the hope of getting anything more out of me than -I’ve told you, you have miscalculated, and you have wasted your time.” - -“No, I haven’t,” he said softly. “I’m enjoying myself very much. I can -talk to you, I can look at you, and I--can ask you things.” - -She did not ask him what things, but became quiet and subdued, and -occupied with the landscape. He was seeing her in new circumstances, -in a new light, and the change from talkativeness and brilliancy to a -singular tranquillity interested and delighted him. - -“And you can disbelieve the answers,” she said softly. - -“I don’t know. It doesn’t follow, as I’ve told you, that because I -don’t quite understand one answer you’ve given me that I might never -understand you.” - -“I said believe, not understand.” - -“Same thing. If I were to ask you whether you’d ever cared for anybody, -I might perhaps believe your answer, if you would give me one?” he -suggested diffidently. - -“Well, I haven’t. I haven’t had time to think about that sort of -thing,” said Miss Davison, in a matter-of-fact tone. - -“Really? Never?” - -“Word of honor. Of course you can’t say that. Or, if you did, I -shouldn’t believe _you_.” - -“Why should I be disbelieved more than you on such a point?” - -“Because it’s one, I think, upon which no man tells the truth to a -woman.” - -“Don’t you think you will ever care for anybody?” - -She hesitated, and once again that pretty, faint tinge of pink color -came into her cheeks. - -“I don’t say,” she answered, in a dreamy and gentle tone, “that it -might not be possible. But it would make no difference. I have laid -down a plan of life, and I mean to keep to it. The sort of sentiment -you mean has no place in it.” - -“But why not? Isn’t there any pleasure in--the sort of sentiment I -mean?” - -“Oh, yes, I daresay there is. In fact,” and a faint smile appeared on -her face, one of those charming smiles that flitted over her face from -time to time so lightly that they illuminated the eyes rather than -stretched the muscles of the mouth, “I may say I’m sure of it.” - -“Then why be so stoical?” - -“Well, because, for one thing, I’m convinced that the better I’m known -the less I’m likely to be loved--” - -“That I deny!” - -She turned upon him with pretty scorn. - -“What matters your denial?” she said. “I _know_!” - -“You don’t know what love is--I must say the word,” said he with -passion. “I’ve tried to call it everything else, but the real name must -come. I love you, Rachel, I’ve told you so, and the more I know you the -more I love you.” - -“Yes, because I take care you shan’t know me beyond a certain point; -and I never mean to. No. Let me have my say now,” she went on, as he -tried to interrupt her. “I’m not a bit ungrateful for your feeling: -I don’t pretend not to be pleased. I am pleased. I like you, and if -I were a different sort of woman I should find it easy enough to go -farther; but I don’t mean to. No, no, no;” and with every repetition of -the word her voice grew firmer. “Just listen to me, Mr. Buckland,” and -she looked steadily into his face. “If you were to know more, if I were -to tell you all the truth about myself, I’m satisfied that you would -never feel a spark of anything like sentiment--the sort of sentiment we -mean--again. No, look incredulous if you like; be incredulous if you -like. In fact, I’d rather you should be incredulous about it; but it’s -the plain truth all the same. Although we had a little wrangle this -afternoon about something you fancied you saw, and that I explained in -a way you didn’t like, it is absolutely true that there is something to -be known about me which would make an insurmountable barrier between -us. Now don’t think me hard and unfeeling: I’m neither the one nor the -other really. But I am other things that the ideal should not be, and -one of those things I’ll confess to you. I’m proud: not rightly proud, -but wrongly proud. And that alone is enough to stand up and divide -us--forever.” - -Even as she spoke, and as it were instinctively, she held out her hand, -stretching it to its utmost distance from her, as if she were warding -him off. Something in her face, her voice, her manner, made the gesture -so significant that Gerard felt as if he had received a blow. - -“And now good-bye,” said she; “and I thank you for having suggested -this walk--and this talk. I am glad we have had the opportunity of -speaking out frankly. Now, in the future, all will be plain.” - -He would have burst out into an eloquent appeal to her to be open -with him, to tell him what was troubling her, to take into her whole -confidence the man who loved her, who was ready to give his life for -her; but Miss Davison, with her usual cleverness, had seen and taken -advantage of the approach of a group of people, foreigners on their -way to the Albert Memorial, to make an effectual barrier against a -continuation of their talk. - -She insisted on going with the stream of people, and he had to follow -her, bewildered, distressed, and silent, until they turned into the -high road, when she made him put her into another hansom, and shaking -hands with him, drove away in the direction of Sloane Street, with a -wholly conventional farewell. - -Gerard went home to his rooms, puzzled, distressed, and perplexed as he -had never been before. - -Not a bit nearer the solution of the mystery which surrounded Miss -Davison than he had been before. - -There was the puzzle, that she could talk to him, could be frank with -him--up to a certain point, but that she could keep her own counsel -perfectly, almost uncannily, and as it were hold him off while -certainly at the same time keeping him on. - -For, mystery or no mystery, he was now more in love with her than ever. - -He made an attempt to see her, by calling at Lady Jennings’ house, but -he saw only the old lady, and heard that the young one was out. - -He haunted the streets looking for a glimpse of her, but for some time -in vain. - -But as in London no one can remain untraced for long, and as Miss -Davison, in her own proper person, was not the sort of woman to remain -long unseen, in the very last days of July he caught sight of her as -she got out of Lady Jennings’ victoria at the door of one of the big -stores. - -She was, he thought, more exquisitely dressed than ever, in the palest -blue batiste--of course he did not know that it was batiste, he simply -called it “bluey stuff”--with a big hat and belt of deepest sapphire -color. She wore a row of pearls round her neck, a watch studded with -pearls and diamonds on her breast, and in her hat were pins set with -real stones. - -He thought she looked the daintiest fairy princess he had ever seen; -and the long cloak which she carried over her arm, of silk of the -sapphire shade lined with the pale blue, was a garment which even -ignorant male eyes could admire. - -He followed her into the stores, but kept at a good distance, -wondering whether she would condescend to see him, and whether he -should get snubbed. - -She was buying largely, in one of the most crowded compartments of the -establishment, where real lace handkerchiefs and dainty and expensive -trifles made of lace were being disposed of at “sale prices” which -scarcely seemed so “alarming” as they were described to be. - -At last she caught Gerard’s eye, and he saw her falter and turn pale as -she handled, with a connoisseur’s fingers, a beautiful shawl of modern -point lace. - -He wondered whether she was going to cut him; but she did not. She was -evidently confused at the sight of him, but she recovered herself, -shook hands, and then, asking him to get her a packet of postcards, and -to meet her outside with them, dismissed him on what he saw to be an -errand invented to get rid of him. - -He was disturbed, perplexed, but that was no new experience where Miss -Davison was concerned. He went obediently to do her bidding, hoping for -a few minutes’ talk to compensate him for his docility. - -But as he went back towards the department where he had left her, he -met one of the employés hurrying out, saying excitedly under his breath -to another-- - -“Tell the commissionaire to go for a policeman. We’ve got hold of our -swell shop-lifter at last.” - - - - -CHAPTER VII - - -Gerard felt sick with alarm. A shop-lifter! Although he was ashamed of -his own fears, they overpowered him. - -He asked himself what right he had to connect the arrest of a -well-known shop-lifter with the presence of Miss Davison in that -particular department of the stores where the theft appeared to have -been detected. But even as he did so, and tried to think that he ought -to be ashamed of his suspicions, he knew very well that they were -justified; that the episode of the sparkling ornament passed by Miss -Davison (or her “double”) to the man in the crowd on the night of the -fête at Lord Chislehurst’s suggested inevitably that she was the person -who was now to be arrested for theft. - -The thought was horrible. Even though, in this first moment of surprise -and dismay, he had no doubts about her guilt, he was none the less as -much distressed to think of the disgrace which awaited her as if she -had been one of his own kin. - -For the puzzle, the marvel of the situation was that although he could -not help his strong suspicions of Miss Davison’s honesty, he knew -her to be as pure-souled as it is possible for a human being to be, -and the conviction which had already been forming in his mind now -grew stronger that she must be a kleptomaniac, and that she stole, if -indeed she did steal, not from criminal intention, but by irresistible -instinct. - -Of course this supposition did not account for everything. There were -discrepancies in any story which he could make up to account for the -strange behavior, the glaring inconsistencies of the beautiful girl -who had roused his admiration and inspired him with an unconquerable -passion. - -She seemed far too sane and well-balanced a girl to be subject to -mania of any kind, and it seemed to him extraordinary, if she were -really a prey to a disease so acute and so distressing, that she -had not been put under some sort of restraint, or at least that she -was not constantly shadowed by some companion who could explain her -idiosyncrasy and pay for the things she stole. - -He had heard of such things being done in well-known cases of this -kind, and he felt sure that she could not have become so expert as she -evidently was without the fact of her tendencies becoming known to -some, at least, of her friends. - -But even while he argued thus with himself, hoping against hope that he -could prove to himself that she was innocent of criminal intent, one -circumstance after another obtruded itself upon his mind, all tending -to confirm the fact that she was too artful, too deliberate in her -plans, for an innocent victim of instinct. - -The sending of her mother to Brighton, for instance, and the cleverness -with which she played off Mrs. Davison and Lady Jennings, the one -against the other, pretending to the one that she was staying with -the other, when all the while she was absent on some mysterious and -unexplained “business,” spoke, not of innocence, but of a very well -developed and keen instinct for deceit of the most flagrant kind. - -And, if her thefts were the result of kleptomania, where did her income -come from? For her appropriation of other people’s property to be -blameless it must be proved that she did not profit by it. Whereas he -knew that, without any occupation that could be traced to her, she made -large sums of money! - -And she had told him frankly that her character was not a lovable one, -that there was a barrier between them which could never be passed. - -Strange to say, however, it was upon these words of hers and the manner -and tone in which she said them, that Gerard relied more than anything -else for his own fixed and firm belief in her real innocence. - -She was conscious that there was something in her character and conduct -that would be disapproved of, and that would make an insurmountable -obstacle between her and him. And yet she said this with an evident -belief that she herself was justified in the course she held. And she -was so grave, so sincere, so entirely sane in manner and look during -their talk, that Gerard had felt convinced that the barrier of which -she spoke was not one of the terrible character her actions would have -led him to suppose. - -And now--what was he to think? - -The moment he heard the order given by one of the shop-walkers to a -subordinate, to run for a policeman, he determined to wait outside to -see what was going to happen. - -He did not know what was the customary procedure on such occasions, -but he imagined that a cab would be called, and that a small -party, consisting of the accused person herself, one or more of -the shop-assistants, and a policeman, would come out by one of the -side-entrances, get in and drive off as quietly as possible to the -nearest police-station, where the charge would be preferred. - -He thought that perhaps, in such a case, he might be able to be of use, -as he could offer to fetch her friends, and bring the necessary and -usual testimony to her respectability. - -In the meantime, however, he addressed himself to another assistant, -who had overheard the order given to fetch the police, and asked him if -such occurrences were common there. - -The man seemed reluctant to speak, but said that they were very rare. - -“I believe, however, sir,” he added, “that this is a bad case, and -that we have at last succeeded in catching a woman who has been doing -this sort of thing systematically in the big London stores for a -considerable time past. She dresses splendidly, and is altogether what -we should call a very smart person, and nobody would suspect her of -being a thief.” - -Gerard wondered whether he should press forward and present himself -as a friend of the unhappy woman. But he reflected that this was -impossible until he was absolutely, instead of morally, sure of her -identity, and he had to content himself with his previously proposed -course of conduct. - -Before he could carry out his intention, however, he saw the assistant -come back with a policeman; and both men, amidst the whispers and -questions of such of the customers as noticed the occurrence, passed -hurriedly through one department after another, and disappeared into a -private room into which all the rest of the persons interested in the -affair had retired. - -There was great excitement everywhere, which the assistants in -vain tried to allay by assuring the customers that nothing of any -consequence had taken place. - -And in the midst of the excitement, a tall, thin man, tightly buttoned -up in a frock-coat, and wearing a pair of gold-rimmed spectacles, came -quickly into the stores, and was led into the locked private room where -the shop-lifter had been temporarily imprisoned. - -Gerard looked at him, noted his black beard, his silk hat, his -professional manner, and wondered whether he was a doctor called in to -pronounce as to the sanity of the thief. - -Then, with a heavy heart, after watching the door of the private room -for a few minutes, the young man went out into the street. There for a -couple of hours he wandered up and down, without seeing anyone come out -who appeared to have any connection with the unhappy incident of the -afternoon. - -He made the circuit of the building, going round to the back -entrances, where nothing unusual appeared to have disturbed the peace -of the neighborhood. He feared that the party might have gone to the -police-station long since, escaping quietly by some little-known door -in order to avoid attention. - -At last the hour for closing the stores arrived, and the last customer -having left, Gerard watched the doors more keenly than ever, thinking -that perhaps they would have decided not to leave the building until -the customers had left. - -Just as the shutters were closing, he saw a lady step out quickly and -make a dash for the four-wheeled cab that was waiting outside. - -Gerard uttered a low cry of surprise and relief. - -It was Rachel, and she was alone. He stepped forward quickly, and saw -that she was allowed to come out by herself, and that there was no one -in the cab, the door of which the commissionaire was holding open. - -“Miss Davison!” cried Gerard, with an air of triumph, which made her -stop short, startled, and turn quickly to look at him. For a moment she -stood as if not knowing what she was doing, or at whom she was looking, -and he saw that she was not pale with the healthy pallor of every day, -which he had so often admired, but with a ghastly whiteness that looked -sickly and distressing. - -“Oh,” she said faintly, “is it you, Mr. Buckland! Why--surely”--she -uttered the words slowly, pausing between them, as if collecting -thoughts that had gone very far away, and slowly coming back to the -life of every day again--“surely--you--have not--been waiting for me -all this time!” - -She looked scared, and stared into his face as if she would have -penetrated to his inmost thoughts. - -“I--I didn’t know what had become of you,” he stammered hoarsely. “I--I -thought you meant to meet me outside.” - -She started. - -“So I did. I remember!” said she. And then, very sweetly, as if -overcome with remorse, she said, “I’m so very, very sorry; but I forgot -all about it. I have spent the whole afternoon, or at least nearly -three hours of it, buying lace and frocks and things, and trying hats -on! I’m so awfully ashamed of myself. Do please forgive me.” - -“Let me send away this cab, and take you to tea somewhere. You look -done up,” said Gerard, still speaking as if he hardly knew what he was -about. - -She hesitated and looked around her stealthily. - -Then she said shortly, in a faint voice-- - -“All right.” - -Gerard gave the cabman a shilling, and hailing a hansom, helped her in -and told the man to drive to the nearest tea-shop. - -Then he jumped in after her, feeling his heart sink. - -For the delight and relief of the first moment, when he had been ready -to look upon her appearance by herself, a free woman, as a sign that -she was innocent and that he had misjudged her, had given place to a -dread that the danger was not over yet, and that she knew more about -the affair of the shop-lifting than for the moment he had supposed. - -They went along in silence, Rachel closing her eyes as if too tired to -talk, and Gerard dumb with fear and distress, and a kind of desperate -pity. - -It was quite plain that she had been through a harassing time, much -more distressing and fatiguing than an afternoon spent in trying on -new clothes could possibly have been. So he left her in peace until -they got out at the tea-shop, and even then he waited until she was -refreshed, and until her natural pallor had returned to her cheek -instead of the unhealthy flush which had succeeded to the ghastly -whiteness he had at first noticed on meeting her. - -Then it was she who, noting his eyes fixed upon her face with stealthy -interest, asked him abruptly-- - -“Why did you wait for me?” - -He hesitated. - -“I didn’t know how long you would be. I--I was not sure where you -were,” he began. Then changing his mind he said suddenly, “And -something had happened at the stores to interest me--the shop-lifting.” - -She looked at him steadily. - -“What was that?” she asked. - -But he lost his patience, and said curtly-- - -“Oh you must know. Why pretend you don’t?” - -But Miss Davison had entirely recovered her self-possession by this -time, and she leaned back in her chair, played with the glove she had -taken off, and said-- - -“Was that what all the fuss was about? The crowd and the crush round a -private door at the back?” - -“Yes,” said he shortly. - -“Tell me all about it,” said she. - -And suddenly leaning forward, she looked at him with an expression in -which interest in his narrative was combined with perfect innocence as -to the details to be related. - -Gerard did not know whether to be amazed, disgusted, or amused. This -brazen attitude might either be considered shocking, perplexing, or -simply whimsical, as one chose to look at it. He looked down, and -when he raised his head again, after being lost in thought for a few -moments, he fancied he surprised upon Miss Davison’s beautiful face a -sort of wistful look, as if she was sorry and ashamed of the attitude -she had to take up, or at least that was the fancy that came into his -head about it. - -He dashed into his narrative abruptly when their eyes met. - -“A woman was caught in the act of stealing something, I believe,” he -said, keeping his eyes fixed upon her, but meeting with no shrinking -in return; “and I learn that she is an old offender. A smartly dressed -woman who goes about to the best shops, and is well-known, but whom, as -I gathered, they’ve not been able to catch before.” - -“And have they caught her now?” asked Miss Davison innocently. He -stammered and grew red. - -“They--they seemed to think so,” he said, in a voice that was not -steady. - -“Did you see her?” - -“If I did it was without knowing that she was a shop-lifter,” said he. - -“Kleptomaniac, they call that sort of woman nowadays,” observed Miss -Davison lightly. “She will get off, depend upon it. Some old doctor -will swear to her being in ill health and not responsible for her -actions. Oh, that’s what they always say.” - -Gerard remembered the man with the black beard and the gold-rimmed -spectacles, and sat back reflectively. Was Miss Davison merely -relating what had already happened? Had she waited calmly while they -went for a doctor, and had he then examined her and at once pronounced -her as wanting in balance and not responsible for her actions? - -It seemed like it. - -“But they say she has done it before!” - -“And got off before in the same way, no doubt,” said Miss Davison -quietly. “Watch the papers for the next few days, and you will find -nothing about the case, I’ll answer for it.” - -“Did they tell you so at the stores?” asked he dryly, and with emphasis -which he did not try to hide. - -“I know by what I have seen before of these cases,” she replied -evasively. “It doesn’t do any good to the shops to have these things -known, because there’s always some sort of doubt thrown upon the case -by the other side and people are led to believe that there’s been undue -harshness in pressing the charge.” - -Gerard listened in confusion. Had she reckoned upon these things, and -so felt sure that she would escape the disgrace of arrest, trial, and -conviction? - -“Are they unduly harsh in this case?” he asked. - -“How should I know? These people keep affairs like that quiet, and a -casual customer like myself hears nothing about it except by chance, -unless it gets into the papers, which, as I tell you, it very seldom -does. London is full of well-dressed thieves, and a good many of them -steal for pleasure, and hoard what they steal. When they get found -out, the usual way of dealing with them is to make them pay for what -they have robbed the tradesman of, as they can always do easily enough. -I’m quite sure nobody knows how much of that sort of thing goes on. -It’s very rarely you find such a case in the papers, very common to -meet with them outside.” - -She spoke simply, as if upon a matter with which she had nothing to do, -but on which she was able to supply information, and did so because he -appeared interested in it. - -“And what degree of guilt do you ascribe to them?” he asked abruptly. -“Are they conscious of what they are doing, and aware that they are -committing crime?” - -A faint smile flickered over Miss Davison’s face. - -“Some of them,” she answered rather dryly, “are very well aware of it, -indeed.” - -There was an awkward pause. Presently he caught a strange glance from -Miss Davison; she suddenly looked at him in a frightened way, as if she -thought her last words had contained a confession, and was anxious to -qualify them. But before she could speak, he said-- - -“What makes them do these things then? What makes an honorable woman -who is not in want, stoop to such meanness, such despicable dishonesty?” - -He spoke with great warmth, his eyes flashing, his fists clenched. -He was torn with conflicting feelings, perplexity, horror, pity, -contempt, and through it all he wondered whether it could be true, and -whether this lovely woman with the frank face, the straightforward -manner, the noble aims, the steadfast heart, could really be guilty of -the abominable crime of theft. - -She hesitated and looked down. In her face there was a strange -expression which he could not understand. It might be shame alone, or -sullen anger, or fear, or a compound of all three. All he could be sure -of was that it was infinitely painful for him to watch her, and to know -that it was his words which were inflicting upon her a torture which, -whether deserved or not, was none the less distressing for him to cause. - -For he loved her; in spite of the fears, doubts, certainties -even, which tormented him concerning her, he was ready to believe -impossibilities, to trust her honesty and truth in spite of everything, -to say to himself that there was no trace of the criminal in her; and -that, if indeed these larcenies could be brought home to her, as he -prayed that they could not be, then that they were the result of some -overpowering impulse of which she was ashamed, and which the doctor who -was called in by the people at the stores, had been able to explain and -account for. - -After a silence which appeared long to both, Miss Davison raised her -head to reply to his questions. But as she began to speak, her eyes -were evidently attracted by some object behind him, and he perceived, -as she uttered some commonplace words, instead of saying what he was -anxious to hear that she was intent upon something else and was no -longer giving him her attention. - -He saw, indeed, a slight raising of her eyebrows, which he took to be -a sign to some person behind him. Turning quickly, Gerard was just in -time to see a well-dressed man behind him, in the place to which her -eyes had been directed. - -The man’s back was turned. Gerard watched him in the hope that he would -turn round and show his face; but instead of doing so, the man went -straight out of the shop and disappeared in the crowd outside. - -When Gerard turned around again, Miss Davison was on her feet. - -“I don’t know what poor Lady Jennings will say,” she cried, “at my -being late for dinner, as I can’t help being. I must make all the haste -I can.” - -“I’ll get you a cab,” said Gerard rather coldly. - -He was, in spite of himself, roused to fresh suspicion by this apparent -collusion between Rachel and the man who had gone out of the shop. He -went out with her, put her into a passing cab, and, by her direction, -gave the driver Lady Jennings’ address. There was some reassurance in -this, that she was going back home, and he tried to find comfort in -the fact, saying to himself that if she had been in any fear of being -followed or arrested, she would not have done this. - -When she had driven away, he was about to continue his own journey back -to his rooms, when a girl ran out of the tea-shop with a cloak which he -recognized as the handsome one he had admired on Rachel’s arm. - -“The lady left this, sir,” said the girl. - -He took it with inward satisfaction, for it afforded him exactly the -excuse he wanted for going to Lady Jennings’ house, to find out whether -Rachel had really returned there, as she had apparently proposed to do. - -He was half ashamed of himself for his mistrust, well founded as it -was, as he got into a hansom and drove away. - - - - -CHAPTER VIII - - -Gerard arrived at Lady Jennings’ house at an awkward hour, and felt -rather diffident as to the sort of message he should give, as he knew -it would be dinner-time, so that he could not very well ask to see -Rachel, and yet did not like to ask if she were at home and then give -the cloak. - -When he got to the house, however, he saw that there was no light in -the dining-room, the window of which was wide open, but that a lady -was sitting in the room above, which he knew must be the drawing-room. -There was a light in the room, but the lady was standing between the -curtains, looking out. - -Puzzled and disturbed, he resolved to ask boldly whether Miss Davison -was at home, and did so, on the opening of the door. - -“Yes, sir,” said the footman in answer to his inquiry, and he at once -proceeded to show Gerard upstairs into the drawing-room, where the -young man found himself face to face not with Rachel, but her younger -sister, Lilian. - -The girl was looking charming, her fair hair, which she still wore tied -with a large bow of ribbon at the back of the neck and hanging down -her back, shone in the glare of the electric light like gold; while -the simple frock of pale pink cotton and the schoolgirl black sailor -hat with a pale pink ribbon, suited her girlish face and figure to -perfection. - -She greeted the visitor with frank pleasure. - -“I’m so glad to see you again,” said she. “I know how much Rachel likes -you, and how kind you were at the Academy. And you like Rachel, don’t -you? That is quite reason enough for me to be glad to see you.” - -There was something in this speech which made Gerard’s heart leap up. -“Rachel likes you.” He was sure that there was no deceit, no pretense, -about this charming schoolgirl, that what she said came naturally to -her lips from her own knowledge, and he was touched and surprised to -hear the confidence with which she spoke. It was almost as if she -looked upon Gerard as a sort of possession of the family, to be greeted -and treated as such. - -“I’ve been waiting here ever so long,” said she, with a sigh; “and I -am so glad you’ve come to talk to me! Lady Jennings is out, and so is -Rachel, and I’ve been amusing myself as well as I could with the papers -the man brought me, and with looking out of the window. But it’s so -dull, and such a shame to have to waste one’s time like that when I so -seldom come to town!” - -“Didn’t they expect you?” asked Gerard, in surprise. - -A sort of hesitancy appeared in the girl’s manner. - -“Why no,” she said. “Something happened this morning that seemed odd to -Miss Graham--that’s the schoolmistress. A gentleman called to see me, -and asked questions about Rachel, and didn’t give his name; and as one -of the junior mistresses was coming up, Miss Graham said I had better -come too, and see Rachel and Lady Jennings about it.” - -A horrible fear, of a kind to which he was now getting used in matters -that concerned Rachel Davison, assailed his heart at these words. -Who could the mysterious gentleman be who had come on such a strange -errand, not to Rachel herself, but to her younger sister, a mere -schoolgirl? - -“You did quite right in coming,” he said, after a short pause. “It does -seem an odd sort of thing to happen.” - -“Yes,” replied she innocently. “Although he did not give his name, -Miss Graham took it for granted, from the way he spoke, that he was -some relation or old friend of ours, until he saw me; and then, when I -didn’t recognize him, and he said merely that he was an old friend of -our father’s, she began to think it rather strange. However, I’m bound -to say he was very nice, and that I was quite glad to see him; and if -Miss Graham hadn’t thought it odd, I don’t know that I should have done -so. Why shouldn’t an old friend of my father’s come and see me?” - -“Why, the strange part of it was his not giving his name, of course,” -said Gerard. - -“Yes, I suppose so. He looked like a military man, with his white -mustache and way of holding himself; and most of our old friends are -or were in the army. So I asked him and he said ‘Yes,’ and that he had -been in the army some years ago. That was all. But very likely Rachel -will know more about him.” - -Gerard sincerely hoped that Rachel would not have reason to regret the -appearance of the military-looking man who had been in the army, and -would not give his name. But the strange episode suggested to his mind -that the police were making inquires about the Davisons, and that the -white-mustached gentleman would prove to be one of their emissaries. - -“It’s very strange that neither she nor Lady Jennings should be back to -dinner, isn’t it?” she went on. “It’s past eight, and they usually dine -at half-past seven, I know; and I’m so dreadfully hungry!” - -“Are you going back to Richmond to-night?” - -“I hope not,” replied she merrily; “because I should like Lady Jennings -to invite me to stay the night, and to take me to a theatre. But it’s -getting too late for anything that begins before nine!” she added with -a sudden change to a dismal look, as she glanced at the ormolu clock -which stood on a bracket on the wall. - -“I should have thought you’d be having holidays now,” said he, “at the -end of July.” - -“Yes, we have broken up, and I’m only staying on there until Rachel has -made up her mind what I’m to do during the holidays. Perhaps she and -I and mamma shall all go away together somewhere, but it depends on -Rachel’s work,” she added, with a sort of earnest pride that seemed to -Gerard infinitely touching. - -“It’s very irregular, this work of hers,” he said, in a voice which -shook in spite of himself. - -He wanted to learn what he could, but it seemed dreadful to have to -talk about it to this child, who rejoiced so openly in her sister’s -cleverness, and had no thought of harm or of wrong. - -“Oh yes, very,” replied Lilian quickly. “That’s the worst part of it, -that she never knows what she will have to do next, and has to be at -the beck and call of the people who employ her. It’s dreadful to me,” -she said, with sudden earnestness, “to have to know that poor Rachel is -making herself a martyr to me and mamma, and working too hard, much too -hard, just to earn money for us. I do so wish I could do something to -help her; but I have no talent at all for anything, and can never hope -to be anything but a burden to anybody.” - -“I don’t think,” answered Gerard, smiling, “that you will really have -to look upon yourself in that light very long! I think I can answer -for it that you’ll find quite a number of people not merely willing, -but anxious, to take the burden, as you call it, off your sister’s -shoulders very quickly indeed, when once you’re ‘out.’” - -“You mean that somebody will want to marry me?” asked Lilian, with -a sort of blushing archness and shyness combined, which he thought -charming. - -“Yes. The moment you are ‘out’ I prophesy that you will be snapped up,” -said Gerard. - -But Lilian’s fair face clouded again. - -“Ah,” she said, “that coming out will be another great expense for poor -Rachel. She’s determined that I shall be presented at Court, and the -expense of that will be horrible.” - -Gerard was aghast. Timidly, hesitatingly aware that he was on delicate -ground, he ventured to suggest obstacles. - -“But don’t you think,” he said, “that if you were to assure her that -you would much rather not be presented, that it would be a useless -sacrifice of money, if I may say so, she would be persuaded?” - -“I think it would be waste of money, too,” said Lilian, with a long -face; “but she is very determined. She says all the women of our family -have always been presented, and I must be. But what I say is, that in -that case she ought to be presented first.” - -“Quite right. And what did she say to that?” - -“She said she was afraid she would not be eligible, because of having -to work for firms in trade. And that in any case she hadn’t the time.” - -“But if she isn’t eligible,” said Gerard, more earnestly than ever, -“perhaps it would affect your position too; and think what a dreadful -thing it would be if the presentation were to be cancelled! That -happens sometimes, when any circumstances come to the knowledge of the -Lord Chamberlain that--that--” - -He grew confused, and stopped. He knew very little about Court -Presentations, but was conscious that in the circumstances it would be -madness to think of this one. - -“But she’s an artist, and not engaged in trade herself, unless you call -selling her designs trade,” said the girl rather distantly. - -“Oh yes, yes, of course I know that. But--but the Chamberlain’s -distinctions are not at all logical. The wives of small professional -men and stockbrokers are eligible; and a lot of Americans get in who -would never get presented if they were in a similar position in England -to that which they hold in their own country; while no actress is -eligible, however great her genius or however noble her character, -and even women of rank lose their rights if they engage in trade. -Altogether, there’s nothing to be gained by presentation now that the -middle classes go to Court _en masse_, and if I were you I would very -strongly urge your sister not to persist in her plan for you.” - -They were talking so earnestly, the girl impressed by his tones, and -he excited by his fears for the result of the rash act suggested, that -neither heard footsteps outside the door, and both were surprised when -it opened, and Lady Jennings came in. - -She was in her outdoor dress, having just come in, and was looking -cross and worried. She greeted the girl kindly, but without losing her -look of annoyance, and turned abruptly to Gerard. - -“Ah, Mr. Buckland, how do you do?” she said, holding out her hand to -him. “I hope you’ve come to tell me what has become of Rachel. She made -an appointment with me at my club at seven, and has never turned up. -She is getting frightfully unpunctual and tiresome.” - -Lilian uttered a little cry of dismay, and Gerard glanced quickly -towards her to remind his hostess of the young girl’s presence. - -Lady Jennings uttered an impatient sigh. - -“Can you tell me anything about her?” she asked imperiously. “I’m told -you brought back her cloak.” - -“Yes, I met her and took her to have some tea. She had done a long -afternoon’s shopping and was tired.” - -“Afternoon’s shopping! Why, she had nothing to buy but a few veils and -gloves, that I could have bought in half an hour,” cried Lady Jennings -impatiently, thus confirming his own doubts as to Rachel’s account of -her occupation that afternoon. “And where did she go to when you left -her?” - -Gerard was nonplussed for a moment. He could not say that he had -thought she was coming straight home, as that would certainly put -Rachel herself into an awkward position when she did make her -appearance. So he said-- - -“I understood that she was coming here, but I think she may have missed -her cloak and gone back for it to the shops she had been to.” - -This was a good suggestion, and for the time Lady Jennings was partly -appeased. She turned to Lilian, heard almost without listening the -girl’s account of the reason of her visit, and then suggested that they -should all go down to dinner together. - -But Gerard excused himself, and took his leave. - -He knew that there was trouble ahead; that this mysterious visit to the -schoolgirl sister on the part of the white-haired gentleman who would -not give his name, could only mean disaster for Rachel. - -He was torn with anxiety on her account, and, forgetting his disgust, -his doubts, his fears, he set about contriving some way of helping her -to escape from the difficulties which threatened her. - -He excused his eagerness in this perhaps questionable work, by telling -himself that he did not, after all, know anything against her, that -all his suspicions were mere surmise. But the very fact that he feared -arrest for her betrayed his real belief, and he himself felt ashamed -that he was so eager on her behalf. - -More and more startling, as he knew her better, had grown the -difference between her character as unfolded in her confidential talk, -and the avocations of which he more than suspected her. She spoke and -looked like a woman of the highest honor, the strongest sense of right -and duty; and yet on every side he met with circumstances which seemed -to point to her being engaged in crime! - -One hope, and only one, remained to him; this was that she could be -proved to be acting under an impulse so irresistible that what she did -was no longer to be called crime at all, but irresponsibility. But -though he had frequently heard the plea put forward on behalf of this -or that woman afflicted in a similar manner, it was not surprising -that, in spite of himself, he shrank from accepting, fully and -straightforwardly, this explanation of the conduct of the woman whom, -in the face of every doubt, he felt that he still loved. - -Wistfully, despairingly, he still clung to the hope that some other way -out of the difficulty would be found; that the mystery about her would -be cleared up satisfactorily, and that he would be able once more to -look upon her with the adoring eyes of his first day’s acquaintance. - -In the meantime, uneasy and perturbed, he conceived the idea of going -in the direction of the police-station which was nearest to the -stores, with the vague notion that he might learn something in that -neighborhood of what had happened that afternoon. - -So he went part of the distance by train, and part on foot, and -approached the police-station at a slow pace, looking about him -observantly. - -The sight that met his eyes as he drew near seemed to turn him to -stone. Rachel Davison, closely veiled and with bent head, was being led -into the building, with a policeman on one side of her and a man on the -other, whom he recognized by his dress as the one he had seen going out -of the tea-shop that evening, after giving her a sign that she was to -come out. - -She had been arrested then, after all! - - - - -CHAPTER IX - - -Gerard was puzzled; he had long since ceased to be capable of horror at -anything he saw done in connection with Rachel Davison. - -He did not even feel sure that she had been arrested; for he knew by -this time that she was, as she had said, quite capable of taking care -of herself, and that, although it looked as if she were in charge of -the policeman and a detective, she might yet succeed in escaping from -their clutches. - -But the amazement he felt on seeing her taken into the police-station, -after she had been able to get out of the stores in safety, was so -intense that he could do nothing but stare at the three figures as they -disappeared into the police-station, and at the cab which had brought -them as it stood waiting outside. - -One very striking circumstance he noted as she disappeared from his -sight. Her appearance had completely changed since he had seen her -last, less than two hours ago. - -When he had put her into the hansom outside the tea-shop and directed -the driver to take her to Lady Jennings’ house, she had been dressed -in pale blue, with a big hat of the deep color of a sapphire. He had -noted this particularly, as he was struck with the taste of her dress -and had vaguely wondered why other girls could not manage to look as -well-dressed as she always did. - -She had had no cloak with her, as she had left behind her, in the -tea-shop, the handsome dark-blue mantle, lined with the paler color, -which he had himself taken to Lady Jennings’ for her. - -Now, however, Miss Davison was wearing, not the big blue hat, but -a small dark toque swathed round with one of those large gauze -motor-veils which can be used as an effectual mask for the features. - -And her figure was disguised as effectually as her face; for she wore a -large black garment with voluminous sleeves, and as one side of it flew -back when she ascended the steps to the police-station he noted that -there was, fastened to the hem, a square white price-ticket, indicating -plainly that the mantle was new from some shop. - -This incident seemed to him conclusive and stupefying. - -After her narrow escape--if it was altogether an escape, which he did -not yet know--of that afternoon, and after directing him to tell the -cabman to take her home, Miss Davison would appear to have changed her -mind, and to have immediately seized the opportunity of being alone to -do a little more shop-lifting! - -Reluctant as he was to come to this conclusion, there seemed to be no -other to come to. For he knew she had not been home, on the one hand, -and yet she was wearing a different hat and mantle since he had last -seen her! - -As for any possibility that he could have been mistaken as to the -identity of the lady in the brand-new cloak and the motor-veil, he knew -there was none. Closely as she was wrapped up, Rachel had made far -too deep an impression upon Gerard for him to fail to recognize not -merely the figure, but the carriage and the walk, of the woman who had -attracted him more than any other in the world. - -He waited at a distance of a few yards to see what would happen. - -There was a long pause, and then a policeman came out and spoke to the -cabman and went into the police-station again. - -Another pause, and then there came out from the police-station a group -of people, among whom Gerard recognized two of the assistants from the -stores, together with a man who looked like a manager, by his dress, -his air of importance, and the deference paid him by the other two. -There were also two women, one old and one young, whom he supposed to -be two more assistants, and the bearded man whom Gerard had supposed to -be a doctor. - -One of the women was carrying the very toque and cloak which he had -just seen Miss Davison wearing. This one was put by the rest into the -cab which was waiting, and driven away, while the rest of the party -broke up into twos, and walked in the opposite direction from where -Gerard was standing. - -There was another pause, and then a policeman came out from the station -and whistled for a cab, and a four-wheeler drove up. - -Gerard began to grow sick with anxiety, for he guessed that the next -person he should see would be Miss Davison, and he wondered whether she -would be alone again, or whether she would be in custody. - -But he was disappointed, for the next person to come out was the -well-dressed, broad-shouldered young man whose back he had seen twice -already, but whose face he had never yet contrived to see. - -This man, still turning his back to Gerard, opened the door of the cab, -and looked towards the police-station, out of which, a moment later, -Rachel herself came, dressed once more in her own hat, and wearing her -pale blue dress without any cloak. She ran quickly out and got into the -cab, and the young man shut the door and remained for some minutes in -earnest conversation with her, as he stood on the pavement. - -Even then Gerard was unable to see his face; for the horse’s head -was turned towards Gerard, so that the young man had to turn in the -opposite direction to talk to Miss Davison, who was sitting alone in -the cab. - -Gerard wondered what had happened. She had been made to give up -the new hat and cloak which she had worn when she came to the -police-station. Yet now she was allowed to go away, without escort, so -that apparently she had not been made prisoner. - -Suddenly and most illogically he was seized with frantic jealousy of -the man beside the cab, whom he had at first taken for a detective, but -whom he now began to think must be a friend who had interceded for her, -and who had succeeded in getting her freedom. - -Had he only become bail for her appearance? But in that case she would -have been taken before a magistrate in the first place, he was aware; -and he doubted whether there had been time for that, even if it had -been possible to take her away by some back door, and bring her back to -the police-station in the same way, which would surely not have been -necessary if she had been allowed to go out on bail. - -It was only one more of the many mysteries which surrounded Miss -Davison like a network, and Gerard stared helplessly at her in the -darkness which was now complete but for the light of the gas-lamps, -which were not near enough to cast a light upon her face, the cab -having stopped not exactly opposite to the police-station, but a few -steps farther down the street. - -When the man stepped back from the cab, raising his hat in farewell, -Miss Davison’s face advanced a little into the light, and Gerard -was at last able to see her plainly. She looked haggard, fatigued, -and excited, and it was plain that she had just been through another -harrowing experience. - -Suddenly her expression changed to one of alarm, and he saw that she -had recognized him. - -Putting her head out of the window, she called to the driver, who had -just started his horse, to stop, and beckoning imperiously to Gerard, -waited at the cab-window for him to come up. - -As he did so, he looked round for the other man, anxious to get a good -look at him; but, in the moment when Gerard had been occupied with Miss -Davison, the well-dressed man who never showed his face had disappeared. - -Gerard came slowly to the cab-window, raised his hat in sullen silence, -and waited for her to speak. - -For a moment she appeared not to know what to say to him. Then, in a -ferocious undertone, she said-- - -“You’ve been playing the spy!” - -“Well, what if I have?” - -She looked at him for a few moments, panting and angry, before she -answered-- - -“You have no right to do it, no right at all. Do you think I haven’t -troubles and cares enough, without your adding to them by this -insulting persecution?” - -He drew himself up. - -“I can scarcely argue the point here,” he said coldly. - -“Of course not. Let me see.” She paused, and looked as it were -stealthily out of both windows. He wondered whether she was looking for -the man who had been speaking to her a moment before, the man who had -beckoned her out of the tea-shop; and his absurd jealousy was roused -again. “You had better come with me as far as Lady Jennings’,” she said -coldly; “then you will perhaps be satisfied that, for the present, at -least, you have no further need to play the spy.” - -For a moment he hesitated, and then he accepted the invitation. At -any rate, he could warn her of Lilian’s visit, and of the message -she had brought. Inconsistent and even unwarrantable as he felt his -partisanship of this girl to be, he was glad of the opportunity of -putting her on her guard against further dangers. - -He got inside the cab, and seated himself opposite to her. - -They drove in silence for some minutes; then she turned to him -fiercely-- - -“What made you come here? Did you follow me all the way from the -tea-shop?” - -“No. The girl brought out your cloak, which you had left on a chair, -and I took it to Lady Jennings’. There, of course, I found that you had -not come home, as you had said you were going to do.” - -“I see. And what did you do next?” - -She spoke with great irritation, not unmixed with fear. - -“I--I came this way.” - -“But why? I know it can’t have been accidental, your coming to such a -place as this.” - -“It was not, of course. I came because I was interested in the -shop-lifting affair that occurred at the stores this afternoon, and -thought that the nearest police-station would be the place where I was -most likely to get further information about it.” - -“And did you?” - -He hesitated. - -“I saw you come,” he said presently, in a low voice; “and I saw the -others. I saw--oh, why should I tell you? You know all about it. -It’s horrible. Of course I know you are justified in saying it is no -business of mine; but still I hate the thought of it all. And, besides, -you may put it, if you like, that it is merely because I’m puzzled and -curious, and want to understand it all. Why did you pretend you were -going home, when you were coming here? Who was the man who beckoned you -out of the tea-shop, and who spoke to you just now? I want to know all -these things, and you may say it is merely curiosity, if you choose.” - -Miss Davison was sitting back, closing her eyes wearily, as if she -scarcely heard and did not at all care what he was saying. When he had -finished speaking she made no attempt to answer him, did not even open -her eyes. There was a long pause. Then he said-- - -“Why don’t you answer my questions? Is it because you can’t, or because -you don’t care what people think?” - -Then she opened her eyes, with an expression of helpless boredom. - -“Why should I answer you? What right have you to question me? If I -choose to say I am going home, you should be satisfied. And if you -follow me, as you suppose, and find I have not gone home, you should -shrug you shoulders, and tell yourself that it is no affair of yours. -As for what you saw to-night, what did it amount to? You saw me go -into the police-station--and you saw me go out of it. Is it absolutely -necessary for me to report the fact to you, if I get my pocket picked?” - -“Of course not. But--the change in your dress was singular!” - -“I don’t think I’m called upon to explain that; but you can know if you -like. I did not wish to be recognized, as I went in, and so I borrowed -some clothes that, as I supposed, effectually disguised me.” She turned -to him fiercely again. “Surely your ill-natured suspicions ought to be -set at rest, since you saw that I came out as freely as I went in!” - -“I said nothing about suspicions; but I have something to tell you. -I found your sister at Lady Jennings’ house, and she had come with a -strange message.” - -Foreseeing bad news of some kind, Miss Davison changed her languid, -listless attitude, and sitting up, looked at him apprehensively. - -“Well, well, go on. Do you know what brought her?” - -“Yes. I’m very sorry, very sorry indeed to have to worry you with more -anxieties when you are tired. But you had better be prepared to find -both your sister and Lady Jennings rather puzzled.” - -“Oh, go on, go on,” said Miss Davison impatiently. - -“It seems that a gentleman called at Richmond--at the school--yesterday, -I think--” - -He had got no further when he saw by the sudden change which came over -her face that Miss Davison’s listlessness was entirely gone. She was -alert, keen, desperately interested at once. He went on-- - -“This gentleman said he was an old friend of your father’s, and that he -had been in the army himself. But the singular part of the visit was -that he did not give his name.” - -“Very singular, indeed,” said Miss Davison. - -But though her outward tranquillity was perfect, it did not deceive -Gerard. - -“Miss Graham thought you and Lady Jennings ought to know about the -visit, because he asked a good many questions about you. He was, -I understand, a man past middle age, with an upright figure and a -perfectly white mustache.” - -He saw at once that Miss Davison recognized the description, although -she raised her eyebrows and said-- - -“Indeed! I suppose he was an old friend of my father’s, and that it was -only a whim to hide his name. It’s absurd of Miss Graham to make so -much fuss about the matter. If it had been anyone without any knowledge -of us, who wanted to scrape acquaintance with Lilian, you may be sure -he would have given some name, even if it had not been his own. People -who have anything to be ashamed of don’t do eccentric things.” - -The reasoning was admirable, and Gerard bowed his head in assent. But -for all of that he knew that the information had thrown Rachel into a -state of deadly fear, and that she was worrying herself with a new and -unexpected anxiety. - -For a long time neither spoke, and it was not until the cab had turned -into Sloane Street, and they were quite near to Lady Jennings’ house -that Miss Davison turned suddenly to him again. - -“You pretend to admire me, don’t you?” she asked sharply. - -“No. I don’t pretend, Miss Davison.” - -“Well, you admire me, and you take an interest in me, if only because -you look upon me as a thorough, if rather clumsy appropriator of other -people’s property.” - -“You have no right to say that. You know it’s not true.” - -“Well, whatever your motive may be, I want you, in consideration of -this admiration, this interest, to make me a promise. Will you give -me your word that you will cease this persecution of me, that you -will take it for granted I have my own reasons for behaving as I do, -and that, if I am a criminal, I shall be punished in due course, and -justice will be satisfied? And will you, in addition to all this, -promise me that you will say nothing to anybody about me or my doings, -that you will try to consider me as unknown to you, that you will, in -short, not only give up my acquaintance, but behave exactly as if I -had never existed? Listen, Mr. Buckland. I know you to be an honorable -man, and I believe you to be a chivalrous one. Won’t you, at my -earnest request, leave justice to take its course upon me without your -interference, and without your knowledge, and leave me to be dealt with -in the natural course of things as I deserve?” - -“Why don’t you explain? I’m sure you could if you wished. I won’t -believe you are guilty of a course of despicable crimes--” - -“It’s absolutely immaterial to me whether you believe that or not,” -retorted Miss Davison, cutting him short with superb disdain. “I -don’t ask you to believe I’m innocent: it’s not the adjective most -applicable to me. All I ask is that you should leave me alone, and -that, as you have seen that the police have their eye upon me, you -should take it for granted that they know what I’m about, and that, -when they have proof enough, they will arrest me, bring me to justice, -and punish me as I deserve.” - -“But I can’t believe this--I can’t believe the evidence of my own eyes!” - -She laughed lightly, having quite recovered her self-possession, though -she still looked pitifully pale and drawn. - -“Why not? I don’t wish you to believe anything else. Only--be quite -sure that your eyes see aright, Mr. Buckland, and that you don’t -sometimes see more than there is to be seen. Now we are at Lady -Jennings’. Are you coming in?” - -There was no invitation in her look or tone. - -“No,” said Gerard shortly. “It is too late. Besides, I’ve been there -already this evening.” - -“And your promise?” - -“I shall not give you any promise.” - -He spoke with quiet resolution, but without menace of any sort. - -Miss Davison looked grave. - -“You mean to go on with this persecution? You mean to follow me about, -to insult me by your suspicions--” - -“You told me you did not care what I thought. How then can any -suspicions I may have be insulting?” - -“Oh, don’t let us quibble,” said she impatiently. “I ask you to leave -me alone. I wish to drop your acquaintance, but to do it amicably and -without any ill-will. Or, if you won’t do that, I ask you to bring -specific charges against me, or even to give information about me to -the police.” - -“Miss Davison!” - -“Oh, I’m quite prepared for you to do that. Then I should have -something definite to meet, I should understand your position. But that -you, without any right to follow me about and persecute me, without -any proof that I have ever done anything disgraceful or unlawful, -should keep watch over my movements and spy upon my actions, should pay -unexpected calls upon my friends and relations, and appear to be always -at hand when anything unusual takes place in my family, I say it is -infamous, intolerable. I won’t put up with it, and I insist that you -shall put an end to this persecution. Now--promise.” - -“I refuse to promise,” said Gerard stubbornly. - -The answer, though she might have expected it, seemed to disconcert -her. She appeared to have thought that her determination, her cold, -proud manner, her lofty indignation, would have had the effect of -reducing him to submission to her will. To find him stubborn still -surprised and perplexed her. They had reached Lady Jennings’ house, -and the cab stopped. Gerard got out. Then Miss Davison, instead of -getting out immediately and sweeping past him haughtily into the -house, as he was prepared for her to do, sat still a moment, and -suddenly threw at him a glance in which he read a thousand things that -in a moment altered the opinion of her which her words would have -formed. Instead of looking fierce, indignant, cold, hard, angry, and -disdainful, she involuntarily let him see in her beautiful dark eyes, -just for one short moment, the look which belied all the rest, the look -of womanly gratitude and satisfaction which told that, mysterious as -was her conduct, persistently unreasonable as was her attitude, and -incensed as she had appeared to be by his obstinacy, she was at heart -touched and melted by his pertinacious loyalty. - -Gerard started forward, but before he could speak, Miss Davison, -recollecting herself, sprang out of the cab, and ran up the steps to -the house without a word or a look of farewell. - -Gerard watched her without daring to follow her, with his heart and -brain on fire. - -The door opened quickly, and she disappeared into the house, and the -footman came out to pay the cabman. But Gerard had already done that, -and begun to walk away. - -He threw one glance up at the window of the dining-room as he went. The -lights were lowered, and the blind was drawn up to let the cool night -air in through the open window. And between the curtains, standing -immovable, he saw the figure of Miss Davison, and knew that she was -watching him, and wondered what she was thinking. - -Remembering that last look of hers, in which the soul of the woman, -grateful for admiration, grateful for love, had seemed to shine out -upon him, he could not help the belief that she was thinking--and -thinking kindly--of him. - - - - -CHAPTER X - - -Now Gerard Buckland, although he was very much in love, was not a fool. -And it was not necessary to consider very deeply the facts connected -with the brilliant Rachel Davison’s existence to feel quite certain -that, however handsome and however attractive she might be, it was the -height of folly to lose one’s heart to a woman of whom so much to her -disadvantage was known to him. - -Look at the incidents of the day in whatever way he might, it was -impossible to escape from the conclusion that Miss Davison’s share in -them was one inconsistent with that innocence which, as she herself -acknowledged, was not one of her most conspicuous qualities. - -That was the worst of it, that she did not deny the mystery about her, -but challenged him to find it out if he could. She said in effect that -she chose to go her own way, that her way was one of which he would not -approve, and that she did not care what he thought. She meant to follow -her own inclination, and she was tired of his pursuit, and desired him -to leave her alone for the future. - -He on his side had made no pretense of hiding the fact that he did not -mean to do so, and while more bewildered than ever by what he had seen -and heard that day, he maintained his determination to try every means -in his power to get at the root of the mystery, and to find out the -secret which was poisoning her life. - -For that Rachel was unhappy he was sure. He remembered her face as he -had first seen it a year ago at the Aldingtons’ house, how bright her -eyes were, how ringing her voice was. Now, although she was handsomer -than ever in his eyes, with that sort of suggestion of thought and care -underlying her beauty, which made it pathetic and haunting, now that -the outline of her face had sharpened and grown more refined than ever, -there was a look in her face which had never been in it before, a sort -of defiant expression, as if she had made up her mind to a certain -distasteful course of action, and meant to persevere in it in spite of -everything. - -Gerard was aware that this view of the change in the beauty might be a -somewhat fanciful one; but fancy is generally very busy in the brain -of a young man in love, and that he was still in love with Rachel -Davison in the face of all he knew and all that he suspected, he had to -acknowledge. - -Was she a thief? That he would not believe. Was she a kleptomaniac? -That was even more difficult to admit, since it was plain that, if -kleptomania were a disease, it could not pay, whereas the occupation -followed by Rachel certainly appeared to pay very well. - -If she had really been the heroine of the scene at the stores that -day, she must, he knew, have found someone ready to stand by her, and -to tell some story which found acceptance in the eyes of the persons -concerned in the charge, and saved her from prosecution. - -For it was impossible to believe that, worried and worn out as she was -when he left her, she would not have been infinitely more distressed if -she had known that a police prosecution was hanging over her. - -Who was the man who had beckoned her out of the tea-shop, who had -accompanied her to the police-station, and put her into the cab -afterwards? - -That was the one question, Gerard felt, upon which the whole mystery -hinged. And he was conscious, absurd as he felt the sensation to be, -that he was not only curious concerning that important personage, but -actually jealous of him. - -Was she in the power of some man who exercised over her an overwhelming -and sinister influence? Was she under the power of hypnotic suggestion? - -He could not but feel sure that the man he had so dimly seen would -prove to have an important bearing upon the matter, and made up his -mind that, at all hazards, he would find out who he was. - -If it should prove to be the case that she herself was only a more or -less helpless instrument in the hands of a designing and unscrupulous -man, then he felt that her position instead of being a guilty and -infamous one, was pitiful in the extreme. - -But the weak point in this argument was the fact that Miss Davison -seemed to be, of all persons in the world, the least likely to be -made a victim in the way suggested. While essentially feminine, she -was high-spirited, active-minded, full of resolution and initiative, -and wholly unlike the gentle, meek, lymphatic people who are the most -readily subjected to such experiments. - -But then he had heard that highly strung nervous temperaments are also -among the subjects of experiments of one mind upon another; and whether -Miss Davison could be made submissive to the will of another depended -upon the strength of will in the person who obtained an influence over -her. - -This, then, was now Gerard’s chief object: to find out and learn all he -could about the mysterious man. - -If the girl had been, by artful plans, entrapped into acting as one -of a gang of expert thieves--and, horrible as this suggestion was, -Gerard felt that it was one that had to be entertained--then it was the -leader of the gang for whom he must look. And it was scarcely likely -that this leader should have trusted himself inside the police-station. -He thought, therefore, that he might dismiss the notion that the -well-dressed, young-looking man whom he had but half seen, could be -the inspirer and fountain-head of the organization, if organization -there were. Rather, Gerard thought, would he be a man set to act as a -scout and spy, and to divert suspicion from his companions by posing as -a friend who could answer for their character. - -Gerard, true to his resolution not to let the matter drop, set about -devising an excuse for calling upon Lady Jennings the very next day; -but he was saved that trouble, for on the following morning he found -on his breakfast-table a note from the old lady asking him to luncheon -that day. - -Delighted at this opportunity of seeing Rachel again, Gerard duly -presented himself at a quarter past one at the pretty little house, -where he found Lady Jennings by herself in the drawing-room. - -She was not looking her usual serene self, but was flushed and -irritable, although she greeted the young man with the kindness she had -always shown him. - -Gerard soon ventured to ask whether Lilian had gone back to school the -previous night, and Lady Jennings frowned, though not ill-temperedly. - -“No; I kept her here till this morning, and took her back myself as -far as the station,” she said. “She was in great distress, poor child, -because her sister had been angry with her for coming. But of course -she was quite right to come,” added the old lady tartly. - -“Yes, and it was Miss Graham who sent her, I understand?” - -“Yes. Rachel has no right to be angry about it, but she is an odd girl, -and full of caprices. I wish to know where you met her last night. -I saw that you came back in the cab with her, but I cannot find out -from her where she had been or what she had been doing. Now I quite -understand that she is free to go about by herself, and to transact her -business without interference; but as she is living in my house, and -I feel, as it were, answerable for her, I think she ought to show me -a little more consideration than she does, and that my curiosity when -she misses the dinner-hour and has no very clear explanation to give -is only natural. She says she was detained by business, and then she -leaves her cloak in a tea-shop, and presently she returns home with -you. So that you must have met her twice yesterday, Mr. Buckland, and -can, I hope, satisfy what I am sure you will not think idle curiosity.” - -The old lady, having talked herself out of breath while Gerard was thus -given an opportunity of considering a diplomatic reply, sat back and -paused, looking at him with pursed-up lips, which he took as a sort of -warning that she expected a straightforward and full answer. - -He did not want to tell too much, or to put her on the track of -Rachel’s real movements by saying that he had met her at the stores. - -But at the same time he felt that he might make worse mischief if he -were to say something which Rachel herself would contradict. - -So he said diplomatically-- - -“I met her casually, in the first place, near enough to a tea-shop in -Westminster for us to go straight in there, as she looked tired.” - -“Westminster!” echoed Lady Jennings dryly, and he felt that he had -probably “put his foot in it” already. “What was she doing there, I -wonder? And where”--she turned upon him suddenly--“did you meet her the -second time?” - -What on earth was he to say? The truth was not to be thought of. -He certainly could not tell her that he saw Rachel going into a -police-station. - -She perceived his hesitancy and spoke sharply-- - -“Of course, if it’s a secret, I have no business to ask, I suppose.” - -“You have every right, Lady Jennings, to know all about Miss Davison’s -movements,” answered he frankly; “but as I feel that you are asking me -questions to which she herself has given you an insufficient answer, -I feel, don’t you see, as if I would rather not say more than this: -that I met her not far from where I had left her before, and that I -understood she had been detained on business connected with her work.” - -He felt, as he said this, that he wished it were not so true as he -feared it was. - -Lady Jennings half smiled. She approved of his attitude, but remained -unsatisfied with that of her protégé. - -“She works too hard,” said Gerard suddenly after a silence. “I have -noticed a great change in her looks. Her face now has a worried -expression. I think she wants a long rest, and I wish she could take -it; but I suppose while she is earning so much it’s impossible.” - -The old lady turned upon him with a strange look. - -“Yes, I suppose she does earn a great deal,” she said rather dryly. -“She seems to spend a great deal, at any rate.” - -“Yes. If she supports her mother and sister,” said Gerard valiantly. - -But the old lady shrugged her shoulders. - -“Oh, one may make too much of that,” she said quickly. “She spends -money on herself too. She dresses magnificently. It wouldn’t have been -thought proper when I was young, for an unmarried girl to spend so much -on her clothes. However, things are altered now, I suppose!” - -“She dresses in excellent taste,” observed Gerard. - -“Oh yes. You take a great interest in Rachel, Mr. Buckland?” - -The words were a challenge, and Gerard took it up promptly. - -“Greater than I have ever in my life taken in a woman before,” said he. - -She shrugged her shoulders slightly. - -“If I took an interest in any man who was in want of a wife,” said she, -“and who thought of looking in this direction, I should recommend him -to choose the younger sister rather than the elder. Of course she’s -very young, but she’s a sweet girl, and if she has less character, what -she has is more amiable than her sister’s.” - -Lady Jennings spoke with as much ill-nature as it was in her to show, -though that was not very much. Gerard, however, took fire and made a -brave stand for his own choice. - -“Miss Lilian is a lovely girl,” he said, “but pretty and charming as -she is, I confess that a woman of more character has still greater -charm for me. Now Miss Rachel has not only her beauty, but she has -something besides, some soul, some capacity for deep feeling which, -while no doubt it makes her miserable sometimes, makes her interesting -too.” - -“She can be miserable no doubt, as well as other people,” said Lady -Jennings rather dryly; “but I think she has probably a still greater -capacity for making others miserable.” - -“Certainly she would make a man miserable if he were head over ears in -love with her and she didn’t care for him,” replied Gerard quickly; -“for he would never be likely to find any girl to take exactly the -place she had made for herself in his heart.” - -Before he had finished speaking he saw a look on Lady Jennings’ face -which made him glance behind him, and he saw that Rachel herself had -come in quietly while they were talking. It was clear that she had -heard his words and understood them, and her pale face, which was very -grave, lighted up a little. - -She shook hands with him, and exerted herself to be lively and -entertaining, and to dispel that slight feeling of resentment towards -her which she knew that her erratic ways had caused her protectress to -feel. - -They went downstairs together, and she found an opportunity to ask him -what he had said in answer to the questions about the day before, which -she knew Lady Jennings must have put. She seemed satisfied and even -grateful when he told her, and from that moment her spirits rose, so -that she was the life and soul of the little party at luncheon. - -When they rose from the table they all drifted towards the window, -where Lady Jennings kept her little birds in a large aviary cage. -Rachel was still very gay, and Lady Jennings’ resentment had softened -under the influence of the girl’s exertions to amuse her. - -Miss Davison was laughing and talking brightly when Gerard suddenly -perceived a strange change in her, the brightness dying out of her eyes -and the color out of her lips. - -Glancing out of the window in search of the cause, Gerard saw that a -gentleman of the middle height, erect and of military appearance, with -a snow-white mustache, was passing slowly, and looking up at the window -as he did so; and he knew it was the visitor to Lilian who would not -give his name. - - - - -CHAPTER XI - - -Gerard glanced at Rachel, but she was too much occupied with her own -thoughts, as she stealthily watched the retreating figure of the -erect, middle-aged gentleman with the snow-white mustache, to pay -any attention to him, or to remark the shrewdness with which his eye -followed the direction of hers. - -The fact was that one glance at the stranger outside on the pavement, -and then another at Rachel, had been enough to assure Gerard that he -had at last found the key to the mystery which surrounded the actions -of Miss Davison. - -True, it was a key which he could not yet make use of, but he was none -the less confident that he now had it in his hands. - -The man in the white mustache, whom Miss Davison at once recognized, -and whose appearance filled her with evident consternation, was, Gerard -felt sure, the leader of the organization which was using the unhappy -girl for its own illegal ends, and his first care, on noting this, was -to hide every sign that he had seen anything. - -So he turned to Lady Jennings to give Rachel an opportunity of -recovering her composure. - -He was still talking to the old lady when Rachel, taking out her watch, -said-- - -“Oh, I forgot to tell you, Lady Jennings, that I have to be in the -city again this afternoon by four o’clock. I shall only just manage it -if I run away now. Do, do forgive me for having forgotten to tell you -before.” - -But Lady Jennings was in no forgiving mood. The news thus suddenly -sprung upon her transformed her at once from an angel of mildness into -an embodiment of just indignation. Drawing herself up, she said-- - -“This is the third time during the last few days that you have done -this, Rachel, disappointed me at the very moment when we have been -going out together! I can’t understand how you can make appointments -and forget them in this manner. Even if I, who don’t pretend to be -a woman of business, were to do so, I should soon be in a state of -hopeless confusion as to what I had to do and where I had to go.” - -“I’m very sorry,” said Rachel meekly. But even as she spoke she was -walking to the door. “But really you don’t know how difficult it is to -reconcile the two conditions, and to be a woman of business and a woman -of leisure at the same time.” - -She went out of the room without giving time for any more discussion, -and Lady Jennings turned to Gerard indignantly. The young man had a -sympathetic manner, and old ladies always found in him an interested -hearer. - -“Isn’t it too bad of that girl,” she asked, “to treat me in this -manner? I make every allowance for the fact that she is a busy woman, -and that business appointments have to take precedence of social -engagements with her. But when she has expressly asked me to take her -to call on certain people, and at the last moment she throws me over -like this, I really feel that I have just reason to complain. One can’t -treat a duchess in this way, whatever one’s position may be, and it was -to meet the Duchess of Beachborough that I was going to take her this -afternoon.” - -“Don’t you think,” suggested Gerard gently, “that it is because she is -overworked that she is rather erratic in her ways just now? It seems -to me that she looks paler every time I see her, and that her face has -grown very much sharper in outline even during the past few weeks. -Couldn’t you persuade her to take a rest from business, and to go away -for a thorough change? I feel it would do her all the good in the -world. Six months abroad, for instance, might make a new woman of her.” - -The old lady shook her head. - -“You forget her circumstances,” said she. “How can a woman who has any -sort of business connection, leave her work for six months? I don’t -know much about these things, but I feel sure I am right in that.” - -Gerard knew that she was, and found it hard to continue his argument. - -“At least,” he suggested, “a six weeks’ holiday, then, might be tried -with advantage. Don’t you think so?” - -“She has been talking of taking a holiday,” said Lady Jennings rather -coolly, “but I don’t want her to go with me. I want a little rest from -her tiresome ways.” - -“Oh, I’m sorry to hear you say that,” urged Gerard earnestly. “Feeling -the interest I do in Miss Davison, I have always been so glad to think -that she had by her a friend so judicious, so kind, and so considerate -as you.” - -“Consideration is wasted upon a girl so self-willed. I don’t mean to -say anything against her. No doubt if she were not headstrong she would -never have done anything for herself or her people. But I confess she -has tried my patience lately.” - -“Why doesn’t she go down to her mother for a little while?” - -“She was talking of going away with her and with Lilian,” said the old -lady; “but I don’t know whether she has decided upon anything. She -seems now not to know her own mind for two minutes together.” - -Gerard felt afraid that it was because she was under the control of a -mind other than her own, and was silent. Lady Jennings sighed. - -“However,” she said, “we must hope it is as you say, and that a holiday -of some sort will work wonders in her. I wish you, who appear to have -some influence with her--” - -“Oh, no, no; I wish I had!” interpolated Gerard. - -“I wish you would talk to her, and try to persuade her to be more -reasonable. You might show her that she is doing herself--and -consequently Lilian--a great deal of harm by her vagaries. People won’t -take the younger sister up, as Rachel wants them to do, if they find -the elder is too much of a handful.” - -Gerard was dismayed by what he heard. He felt that if Lady Jennings -were to throw Rachel over, the girl would be left entirely to the -influence of those false friends who must, he felt sure, be already -poisoning her happiness and spoiling her life. Ineffectual as Lady -Jennings’ friendship and protection appeared to be in restraining her -in her reckless course of conduct, Gerard clung to the hope that a -short period of rest might bring reflection, and that, as long as her -best friends stood by her, she might at least be saved from giving -herself up wholly to the bad influences which were at work upon her, -and that he himself might, by probing the mystery surrounding her to -the very bottom, be able to save her from her dangerous acquaintances, -by threatening to put the police on the track of the gang. - -“I will talk to her,” said he, in a low voice; “though I’m afraid it -won’t have much effect.” - -“She likes you very much, I know. She uses you as an example of what a -man should be,” said Lady Jennings. - -Gerard’s face brightened in spite of himself. - -“Does she really?” - -“Only this morning she did, in speaking to her sister. Will you, Mr. -Buckland, dine with us to-morrow night, and see what you can do with -her?” - -“I’m afraid I’m engaged to-morrow night.” - -“What night can you come?” - -“I’ve got to go down to some friends on the river for the week-end. -That will take me up to Monday.” - -“And this is Thursday. Let me see. How will Wednesday next suit you?” - -“I should be delighted to come.” - -Gerard was on his feet, most anxious to get away, for he had heard the -door shut after Rachel, and he was determined to follow her and to -witness, if possible, her meeting with the man of the white mustache. -He shook hands with his hostess, and went away with the proper air of -leisured reluctance. - -But when once he was outside, he went up the street at a great pace, -taking it for granted that Rachel, who was no longer in sight, would -have gone in the same direction as the stranger. - -He slackened his pace when he got to Sloane Square, and taking great -care never to leave the shelter of a crowd, a matter which was easy -enough at that time in the afternoon, he looked about him in all -directions for a sign of either the white-haired man or Miss Davison. - -And at last he caught sight of them both, the man a little in front of -the girl, making their way to the station. - -They had no sooner disappeared than Gerard crossed the road hastily -in pursuit, and, still taking care to keep himself out of their -sight, watched them go down the stairs; taking a ticket himself, he -followed them down to the platform, where they were now engrossed in -conversation. - -Gerard had deliberately set himself the task of getting as near as he -could to them without being seen, in order to overhear, if possible, -enough of their conversation to know in what relation these two stood -to each other. - -And, even before he heard a word they were saying, he knew by what he -saw all that he wanted to know. - -For the white-haired stranger, who was a handsome, well-preserved man -of about sixty years of age or perhaps a little younger, was evidently -laying down the law to Miss Davison, quietly but emphatically, speaking -in such a low voice that not a word he uttered went beyond her ears, -but so effectively that the girl, who was trembling as she stood with -bent head before him, listened in absolute submissive silence to what -Gerard felt must be directions, commands. - -Not until their train came in with the usual rattle and roar, and the -hurrying movement among the passengers began, did the white-haired man -raise his voice. Then Gerard, from behind them, as they moved towards -the train, caught these words uttered by Miss Davison in a tone of -despair-- - -“Won’t you let me off? Haven’t I done enough?” - -He did not hear the answer, but he heard a little faint moan from the -girl, which told him that her request had been refused. Then he heard -the man’s voice, as he whispered something quickly into the girl’s ear, -and, raising his hat, immediately hurried on to a smoking carriage. - -Left by herself, Miss Davison got into a first-class compartment, into -which Gerard followed her. She went quickly to the extreme end of it, -and sitting down with her back turned towards him, affected to be -reading a letter. - -But he knew very well that she could not see, that she was quietly -shedding tears, and that, having heard him get in without guessing who -he was, she had used the pretense of the letter so that, bending over -it, she could dry her eyes furtively without, as she believed, being -observed. - -The train started, no other passengers having got in with them. - -They stopped at the next station, and still Rachel had not moved. -Gerard’s heart bled for her. He knew that she was miserable, that she -was being coerced, that she was suffering tortures, which must be -doubly keen to a woman as proud as she was, and that she was in such -a position that she could not go for comfort or advice to any of her -friends. - -What the conditions were which the white-haired man had insisted upon -with her, what the work was that he commanded her to do, he could not, -of course, tell. But that there was something distasteful in the work, -something shocking, terrible to her, in the task he had insisted upon -her performing, was no longer open to question. - -The words he had heard her utter in remonstrance to the man still rang -in Gerard’s ears. - -“Won’t you let me off? Haven’t I done enough?” - -What was it that she had done already? What was it that he now wanted -her to do? In spite of all he knew, and all he had seen and heard, in -spite of the suspicions which would crop up at every point of their -acquaintance, concerning the mysterious work upon which Miss Davison -was engaged, Gerard had never ceased to ask himself whether there might -not be some possible explanation of the suspicious circumstances, some -more favorable interpretation to be put upon her mysterious actions, -than the obvious one that she was engaged in some sort of criminal -enterprise, or that she was not responsible for her actions. - -This meeting with the man of the white mustache seemed to make the -latter hypothesis untenable. Kleptomaniacs do not act under orders; -they steal from impulse and impulse alone. - -Whereas Rachel was plainly under orders, acting against her own will, -and at the instigation of someone with a will stronger than her own. - -It was utterly incomprehensible to Gerard how a woman of Miss Davison’s -birth and breeding, a woman who had seemed to him exceptionally -high-principled, honest, fearless, and strong-willed, should so far -have stifled all the natural and acquired instincts and principles of -an honorable woman as to have listened to the suggestions of a man -engaged in some sort of nefarious enterprise. - -Was the theory of hypnotism to be considered? Gerard knew very little -about the subject, but had a vague idea that persons under hypnotic -influence, far from protesting, as he had heard her do, against the -power they feel, act like machines, without strength enough to protest -against the will that makes them commit acts at which, were they free -agents, their minds might well revolt in horror and dismay. - -His heart went out to the girl, in spite of all that he had heard; and, -touched to the quick by the misery which he knew her to be suffering, -he suddenly left his seat, placed himself near her on the opposite side -of the compartment, and said in a low earnest voice-- - -“Miss Davison, what is troubling you? Won’t you speak to me?” - -The girl started back, dashed away the tears which had gathered in her -eyes, and sat up and faced him. - -“Have you been here all the time, watching me, spying on me again?” - -Her tone was not passionate, or even indignant. She was worn out, -irritable, impatient. That was all. - -“I got in when you got in. Yes, call it spying if you like, I followed -you from Lady Jennings’ house.” - -“Of course,” interrupted she impatiently. “I thought I had slipped away -without your seeing me, but I might have known you were too clever for -me. Pray, what made you come?” - -She had dashed away her tears, sat up, and tried to resume her ordinary -manner. She was evidently not sure how much he knew, and was trying to -“bluff.” - -Gerard looked down and answered quietly. He must tell her all he knew, -in the hope that she would then admit the rest. - -“I came because I knew--or at least I guessed--that you were going to -meet someone, someone whom you saw from the window.” - -She flushed with surprise. - -“You have keen eyes!” she said sarcastically. - -She might mean that he had seen more than there was to be seen, or -merely that she admitted there was something to see which he had been -quick to notice. - -“They are keen where you are concerned, Miss Davison. It is no secret -to you, or to anybody who knows us, that whatever concerns you is of -the deepest interest to me.” - -She made a movement as if she would have answered him in the same tone -as before, with sarcasm, with coldness, with an air of being offended; -but before she could utter a word, she glanced askance at him, and -something in his look and manner made her expression change. She looked -down suddenly, and he saw her lower lip quiver. - -“I do wish you wouldn’t,” she said querulously, like a child. “Of what -use is it to be interested in me, considering what you think?” - -“It’s too late for me to ask if it’s of any use,” said he. “Besides, -isn’t it just possible that it may be of use--to you--to know that -there is someone to whom you could go if you were in a difficulty, -someone who knows so much already that there would be little harm in -telling him the rest?” - -She threw a frightened glance at him. - -“You know nothing,” she said sharply. “You may guess a great deal, and -put a wrong construction upon everything; but you really know nothing -whatever.” - -He hesitated a moment, and then said-- - -“I know that you are in some way in the power, or under the influence -of a man who wishes you to do things against which you revolt.” - -It was evident that, whatever she might pretend, Miss Davison was -startled by this statement. - -“How do you know?” she asked abruptly. - -He went on, without answering her question-- - -“And that you have protested, and protested apparently in vain, against -his suggestions, or orders.” - -Then she understood, and did not pretend to misunderstand or deny any -longer-- - -“You have been eavesdropping,” she said contemptuously. - -“I would not scruple to do anything that would lead to a better -understanding of the marvel that makes a well-bred, honorable woman do -things which she is ashamed of, and that she does not dare to mention -to her family and friends,” retorted Gerard boldly. - -She stared at him, with her lips parted, her eyes very wide open, her -breast heaving. Both were in terrible earnest. - -“You talk nonsense,” she said at last sharply. “All your listening -and spying only result in your learning half the truth; and if you -were wise, not to say chivalrous, you would take it for granted that -you were mistaken in your evil thoughts of me, and that there is just -something to be learned which I do not choose to tell you, and which -you have no possible right to know.” - -He looked at her steadily. - -“I wish I could believe you,” he said. “I wish to Heaven I could. But -it’s impossible to credit that you, a young girl, should have secrets -from all your friends and relations in which there is no harm.” - -She faltered and her eyes fell under his gaze. - -“Harm!” she echoed, in a hoarse voice. “There are different degrees of -harm. What one person thinks justifiable may shock and disgust another -person. If your ideas of what is right are so very lofty, you have no -right to take for granted that mine, which may be rather lower, are -degrading and wholly unjustifiable.” - -“I take nothing for granted. I only see that you are miserable and -unhappy, and that you are so because you are acting against your -conscience at the bidding of a person whom you fear and whose influence -you know to be bad,” retorted Gerard. - -She made an impatient movement. - -“Why begin the old arguments all over again?” she said shortly. “Why -don’t you see for yourself that I have willingly and with open eyes -adopted a certain course, and why don’t you leave me alone to endure -the punishment if I have done wrong, or to receive the reward if I -have done right? Believe me, you are only harassing me, adding to my -troubles and embarrassments by your persistent persecution. Nothing -will turn me from the course I have entered upon, about which I will -only say this, that I entered upon it of my own free will, with -entire knowledge of its promises and possible rewards, and of its -disadvantages as well.” - -“I would leave you alone if you were happy,” burst out Gerard. “It -is because I see you are miserable and harassed, because I hear you -imploring to be let off doing that which you have been ordered to do, -that I beg you to leave this career, and its rewards, and the rest of -it, at any rate for a time. If you would only leave London for a while, -go away somewhere and rest and forget this work and all its troubles, -I would be content. But until you do, until I know that you are taking -the rest and holiday you need, I shall continue what you call my -persecution, in the hope of being near you at the moment--which is sure -to come--when you will want a friend to stand by you, a better one than -those for whom you are working now.” - -He was conscious that he was weak in argument, and that his lame words -would have but little effect against the resolve which set her mouth -firm and shone in her mournful eyes. - -What he had not been prepared for, however, was the gentleness with -which she received this tirade, as she stood up in the compartment and -prepared to get out at the next station. - -“You are only adding to my difficulties,” she said, in a tone of -mournful resignation. “I quite appreciate the kindness of your motives, -but your actions worry and harass me. In gratitude for your good -intentions I say ‘Thank you.’ But in self-defense, as you are with the -best will in the world doing me a decided injury, I must say also: I -wish to Heaven I had never met you, and that I may, now that I have had -the misfortune to meet you, never meet you again.” - -She ended with a sort of stifled sob. - -The cruel words stabbed Gerard to the heart. He uttered an incoherent -protest, but she would not listen. Going quickly to the end of the -compartment, she remained standing, with her back turned towards him -and without uttering another word, until the train stopped at the next -station, when she hurriedly got out, ran up the steps, and jumped -into a hansom, leaving him, remorseful, uneasy, and miserable, on the -platform. - -He had jumped out after her, but saw that it was ridiculous to think of -further pursuit. - -But a glance at the moving train as it went out of the station showed -him, in one of the compartments, the face of the white-haired -gentleman, with a faint smile on his cold features. - -And Gerard, who saw that the mysterious stranger was looking at him, -with a sort of faint, cold contempt upon his face, wondered vaguely -whether he had not seen those well-cut features, and that inscrutable -expression, somewhere before that day. - -And as he walked away and thought the matter over, the impression grew -stronger and stronger upon him that, either in a picture or in the -flesh, he had seen the man’s face before. - - - - -CHAPTER XII - - -It was on the very last day of July, when the season had come to an -end, and streams of luggage-laden cabs were flowing in the direction of -all the great railway stations, that Gerard kept the engagement he had -made with Lady Jennings, and arrived at her house in time for dinner. - -During the days which had elapsed since the luncheon at her house, and -his pursuit of Miss Davison and the mysterious white-haired man, Gerard -had seen and heard nothing whatever of the girl, and had indeed done -his best to think of other things, and to push her image out of the -unduly prominent position which it had occupied in his mind if not in -his heart. - -The attempt had been, of course, unsuccessful. And it was with the -strongest possible feelings of passionate interest, and in a state of -keen excitement, that he presented himself again at the house of her -old friend and protectress, and found his heart beating high at the -thought of seeing her again. - -Lady Jennings, however, came into the drawing-room alone, and though -three or four other guests came in almost immediately, Miss Davison -did not appear. - -Gerard’s spirits sank when the gong sounded, and they all went down to -dinner, and he saw, with dismay, that all the places were filled, and -that the woman in whom his thoughts were centered was absent from the -circle. - -No explanation of her absence was asked for by anybody. - -He was so depressed that, although he of course took his share in the -general conversation and exerted himself to appear unmoved by his -disappointment, he felt sure that his hostess noticed it. When she and -the other ladies left the room, he asked the oldest of the men present, -who was a constant visitor at the house, what had become of Lady -Jennings’ young friend and protégée. - -“Oh, haven’t you heard? There’s been a split, I believe, a -misunderstanding, quarrel, or something serious of that sort. I don’t -know the details myself, and I can’t find out more than that. But Lady -Jennings is very sensitive about it, and will not broach the subject -with anybody, while one gets snubbed if one starts it oneself.” - -Gerard was on thorns. - -“When did it happen?” he asked quickly. - -“I don’t know exactly; but it was within the last few days. One by one -her friends, as they called, found Miss Davison missing, and gradually -so much has leaked out, and no more. So be warned.” - -But Gerard could not accept the warning; he did not care two straws -about Lady Jennings’ anger, compared with Rachel’s fate. And he had -already decided to ask his hostess direct what had become of her young -companion. - -In the meantime the gloomiest doubts and forebodings filled his heart. -Even that latest adventure with her had not cured the longings he -felt for a sight of her, for a touch of her hand, for a look into -those beautiful, mournful, enigmatic eyes, which had stirred him as no -woman’s eyes had ever done before. - -He made an opportunity of approaching Lady Jennings, and at once, in -defiance of the warning he had received, asked where Rachel was, and -whether she had consented to take a holiday. - -The old lady’s face hardened, and her manner grew cold as she answered-- - -“I don’t know what has become of her, Mr. Buckland; I have broken off -the acquaintance.” - -“Is it indiscreet to ask on what grounds?” asked Gerard steadily. - -“Well, yes, I should say it is indiscreet, decidedly. But as I know you -take an interest in the girl, I’ll tell you the reason. She has formed -an acquaintance with some people of whom I don’t approve--Americans.” - -Gerard looked surprised. He knew that he had met several charming -Americans at the house. The old lady perceived his bewilderment. - -“Oh, I don’t object to these Van Santens because they’re Americans,” -she explained; “but because they are a type of Americans whom I -dislike, and of whom I disapprove.” - -Gerard had heard the name of Van Santen and knew that these people had -made some sort of stir in certain circles during the past season by -novel and tasteful entertainments, which had earned them the way into a -good “set.” - -“I don’t know them,” he said; “but I know some people who do, and who -find them very charming.” - -“I’ve no doubt,” retorted the old lady icily; “but I am old-fashioned, -and these Sunday bridge-parties which they give down at a place they -have hired in Hertfordshire are things of which I strongly disapprove. -I don’t like the thing, to start with, and I don’t like the way it is -done, as far as I have heard anything of it.” - -“I’m sorry to hear there has been a rupture between you and Miss -Davison upon such an unimportant matter.” - -“Oh, it is important in my eyes, though I daresay some people might -think me too strict. But, as you must know, we have been getting -on so much less well together for some time, that a comparatively -small thing was able to complete the separation. We won’t refer -to it further, please. I will only say this, that my quarrel, or -disagreement--whatever you like to call it--with the elder sister, -will not prevent my doing what I can for the younger. And I hope that -Rachel’s absence from my house will not cause you to forsake it, Mr. -Buckland.” - -Of course Gerard protested that it would not, and equally of course he -knew in his own heart that he would never care to come near the place -again. He cherished quite an unreasonable resentment, indeed, against -the old lady, for what he felt to be an unjustifiable desertion of -Rachel in her hour of need; and this in spite of his knowledge that -Rachel was one of those difficult persons to deal with who make their -own troubles, and persist in their own chosen line of conduct in -defiance of the will and wishes of anybody. - -The evening was a dull and tiresome one for him, and when he got to his -rooms that night he spent two or three hours in deep thought on the -subject of Rachel, and was surprised and ill pleased to find how deeply -he felt the disappointment at not having seen her. - -He remembered where he had heard talk about the Van Santens, the lively -and charming Americans who had supplied a fresh zest that year to the -entertainments of London society. It was at the Aldingtons’ that he had -heard the family discussed, and Arthur Aldington had been quite proud -of being invited to their house, as the Americans had found open to -them the doors of many houses which would have been rigidly closed to -English people of the standing which the Van Santens occupied in their -native country. - -So on the following Sunday he went down to the Aldingtons’ house on the -river, where they spent the summer months, and found out all he could -about this American family of whom Lady Jennings disapproved. - -Arthur was delighted to talk about them, and expatiated upon the -superior charm of American over English girls, and especially about the -dainty beauty and grace of Cora Van Santen, who, he said, was quite the -most charming girl he had met in London that season. - -“Would you like to know them?” asked Arthur, quite proud to introduce -his handsome friend among his new and smart acquaintances. “If so, -I’ll take you down in the car one Sunday. They keep open house on -Sunday always, whether in town or in the country; and I have a general -invitation, and can bring a friend when I like.” - -Gerard caught at the chance of seeing these people, and of deciding -whether Lady Jennings could have any serious complaint to make against -them, or whether, as he thought more likely, she had merely made use -of them as an excuse for breaking the relationship with the young -protégée who had offended her by her erratic ways. - -The two young men went down the very next Sunday to the Priory, which -proved to be a very much modernized old house, which the Americans had -rented furnished from an English baronet. - -It was a charming old place; and although these newly arrived rich -people had brought down with them from town, and even across with them -from New York, certain novelties necessary to their comfort, they had -had discretion enough to avoid swamping the old with the new so that -the house presented an appearance of refined comfort and luxury most -attractive to the eye. - -The family consisted of five persons, and the first thing that Gerard, -who had grown keen in observation of late, noted about them was that -they all represented different types in form and feature. - -Delia, the eldest girl, was what Arthur Aldington irreverently called -the nut-cracker type, and was a showy, tall woman, some thirty years of -age, vivacious, talkative, and amusing. - -Cora, the younger girl, was much shorter, and was a dainty, pale girl -of twenty-five, who dressed with studied simplicity, and sang with -great charm and sweetness. Indeed, her voice was one of the family -assets, and being well trained, had been one of the most valuable aids -in the family rise to the enviable position they already occupied in -English society. - -The mother was a dry, quiet American woman, very shy and watchful, as -if not quite sure of herself among her motley brood. - -The rest of the family consisted of two old-young men, whose age seemed -to be greater than would have been expected in the brothers of the -girls, but who were supposed to be sons by a former wife of the head of -the family, Mr. Van Santen, who was shortly expected from America. - -Neither was like the sisters; the one being withered and bent, with -long teeth and a curious hard smile, while the younger of the two was -a tall, rather good-looking man with a little fair mustache which he -appeared to have only recently grown, a deep voice and a genial and -almost homely manner. - -The group was an interesting one, yet there was something about this -household which Gerard did not like--a strange, unwholesome atmosphere. - -The afternoon was not far advanced when two parties were formed for -bridge-playing, and a third for poker. Gerard did not play, but he kept -his eyes open while the play went on, and listened, entranced, when -Cora sang for the guests. - -Her beautiful voice, indeed distracted some of the card-players, -although they were in two of the suite of drawing-rooms opening on the -terrace, and she was in the third. - -Gerard thought he had never heard any voice so sweet as that of this -pale girl with the washed-out blue eyes, and the soft, colorless -hair brushed straight back in a high full roll from her forehead. As -he stood at the piano, while her mother played her accompaniments, he -thought, looking at her slender figure, with her hands clasped behind -her and her plain white muslin dress falling in full folds round her, -without any other ornament than a wide white satin sash, that she made -a most charming picture against the background of old tapestry which -was one of the attractions of the music-room. - -He was still listening enraptured to her singing of an old ballad which -he had never admired before, when Arthur Aldington and another young -fellow who had been playing cards all the afternoon came to join him on -the terrace. - -“I’m cleaned out,” said Arthur. “This singing is beautiful but it -doesn’t go well with card-playing. I’m not the only man who has quite -lost his head between the two. Card-playing for high stakes and lovely -music don’t go well together.” - -Gerard listened with attention. The very same idea had entered his -own head some time ago, and he wondered how any of the men could keep -their attention sufficiently fixed on the cards to play either poker or -bridge within hearing of Miss Cora Van Santen. - -“That’s just what I should have thought,” said he. - -“Of course her two brothers, who are used to the music can keep their -heads,” went on Arthur, who rather resented the inroads which the -afternoon’s play had made in his allowance; “so they made money, while -we lost it.” - -Innocently as this was said, the speech struck an unpleasant note in -the mind of Gerard, who had grown much more suspicious of late than -he was by nature inclined to be. He was pondering the words, when -presently he heard Arthur’s voice, behind him, saying with surprise and -delight-- - -“What, you here! I am pleased to meet you. Are you staying here, then?” - -“Yes, I’m staying here,” answered a voice which Gerard recognized. - -And, in vague horror, he turned to find that this guest at the house of -the Van Santens was no other than Rachel Davison. There was a mutual -look of alarm in the eyes of the girl and Gerard as he turned sharply -and found himself face to face with her. - - - - -CHAPTER XIII - - -The Priory gardens were looking lovely under the rays of the hot sun -of the fading August afternoon; but the harmonious tints of tree and -lawn, of bank and blossom, faded into an indistinct mass before the -eyes of Gerard Buckland as he turned away from Rachel Davison, after a -low-voiced greeting which he uttered mechanically, without knowing what -he said. - -If she had been unmoved at the meeting, or if her manner and look had -been different, he would not have been so much perturbed as he was. -But it was not merely that she looked infinitely surprised, startled, -and alarmed at the sight of him, but that there was in her face an -expression which seemed to bear only one possible interpretation: she -looked guilty. - -Try as he would to forget the impression her face made upon him at that -first moment of astonishment at the meeting, he could not banish the -disagreeable impression. - -She had turned at once from him, after the first words of greeting, to -speak again to Arthur Aldington, and to make inquiries after the rest -of his family. But Gerard saw in this rapid turning away from himself -only another proof of guilty consciousness on her part that he was -there and that he was watching her. - -He turned away into the gardens, leaving the terrace and going down -towards the broad fish-pond, which lay in a hollow at the end of a -series of velvety lawns broken up by flower beds which were a mass of -tall, handsome, flowering plants. - -The gardens were one of the sights of the county, and even in the state -of uneasiness and anxiety from which he was suffering, Gerard was -conscious of their beauty. - -So, too, were other people. For wandering about among the high hedges -of yew and over the soft lawns, he found a dozen groups of two and -three persons, enjoying the warm summer air, and gathering under the -shade of the lime trees where Mrs. Van Santen was pouring out tea. - -The lady threw at Gerard the apprehensive glance with which she greeted -everyone who approached her whom she did not know well. He looked at -her narrowly, but there was nothing in the least suspicious about her; -she was a plain-featured, motherly woman who gave the impression of -being more used to a simple, homely style of life than to the state -which now surrounded her; and the gentleness with which she evidently -tried to live up to the new life prepossessed him in her favor. - -She smiled at him rather shyly, and invited him to take a seat beside -her. - -“I’m new to this,” she said, with a strong American accent, as she -poured him out a cup of tea; “to all this company, I mean. I’m used to -a quieter sort of life altogether; and your smart British society folks -make me shiver some!” - -“Well, I hope you won’t look upon me as belonging to the people who -make you shiver,” said Gerard, much taken with her gentle looks and her -homely form of speech. “So you don’t like us, Mrs. Van Santen, so much -as your friends on the other side of the Atlantic?” - -“I don’t say that,” replied Mrs. Van Santen, in the slow drawl which -Gerard found rather attractive. “I’ve no doubt many of the people who -frighten me because I’m not used to them only need to be better known. -But it’s just this, Mr. Buckland, when you’ve been used to a quiet, -homely kind of life, and you get suddenly plunged into a livelier sort, -why, it takes you time for you to feel your feet, you know!” - -“Of course it does. But why should you be forced to lead anything but -the kind of life you like, and you’re used to?” - -“Well, it’s like this,” said the good lady confidentially; “you -Britishers think a mighty deal more of the dollars than folks do over -on the other side!” - -“What!” cried Gerard in amazement. “We always think it’s the other way -about!” - -She shook her head shrewdly, and brushed back the braids of her grayish -hair, which she wore parted in the middle and done in a severely plain -knot behind. - -“I never knew the value of money,” she said emphatically, “till I -came over here. Where we come from there are many who have money, and -nobody thinks much of us; but over here we find friends among the smart -people, and yet there’s nothing to make us stand out from other folks!” - -“I think there is, by what I hear--and what I see,” added Gerard -courteously. “Your younger daughter, Miss Cora, has a voice that we -very rarely hear except on a professional platform, and everyone says -you give entertainments which are unique.” - -She laughed. - -“I don’t see anything so special about them,” she said simply, “except -that perhaps we’re not so stiff as you English people. But I should -have thought that was against us, instead of being in our favor!” - -He laughed. - -“There’s a great deal of pretense and what we call cant about us -English,” admitted Gerard. “We have bound ourselves by very rigid -rules; but we like to escape from them sometimes, and we do it by going -abroad, or by visiting people of wider notions than our own.” - -“Oh, that’s it, is it? Well, I daresay, you’re about right. But it’s -puzzling too, to see how your great ladies and your smart men come to -see us, when on our own side we’re not thought much of.” - -It was impossible not to like this simple homely creature, with -her lasting wonder at the ease with which she and her family had -established themselves in London society, and the freedom with which -they had been “taken up.” - -Gerard found it less surprising than she did. The very mixture of -simplicity and homeliness, as represented by the gentle middle-aged -woman who disdained the aid of much extravagance in dress, and frankly -spoke her mind about herself and her family, with the grace and -accomplishments of the daughters, and the devotion to cards of the -sons, formed a combination new and attractive to people who were tired -of more commonplace households. - -And the cleverness with which the Van Santens had chosen to locate -themselves in one of the prettiest places near London, and the taste -with which they had respected the beauties in which they found -themselves, all combined to make the Priory the most popular resort of -the moment with a considerable portion of the great world. - -A few belated stayers in London, who found a delightful Sunday resort -in the Priory, and a great many people staying in the country houses -and river villas came over each week-end in their motor-cars to spend -a few hours in the merry atmosphere, unburdened with Sabbatarian -restrictions, of the lively Americans. - -While he was still sipping tea and chatting with Mrs. Van Santen, the -sight of Rachel Davison, coming slowly from the house, accompanied on -one side by the younger and better-looking of the two male Van Santens, -made Gerard frown with displeasure. - -Miss Davison was exquisitely dressed, as usual, and looked exceedingly -handsome in a gown of black lace with a long train and lines of jet -upon it, finished with enormous jet tassels. A large number of tassels, -similar in design, but of smaller size, dangled from her bodice; and -from underneath the short, full black sleeves and up to the throat from -the slightly open black bodice, an underbodice and sleeves, very full -and of creamy white transparent material, peeped out, finishing the -costume with a relieving touch. - -Her dark hair, coiled high and fastened by amber and jet combs and -pins, set off the delicate pallor of her face. - -Gerard, who had never conquered the jealousy with which he looked upon -any other man who seemed to attract any of her attention, frowned when -he noted the evident admiration of the younger Van Santen, who was -tall, broad-shouldered, and good-looking. - -Perhaps it was because he hated the sight of a good-looking man near -Miss Davison that Gerard took an instinctive and strong dislike -to this Denver Van Santen, and told himself that the fellow was -ill-mannered, presumptuous, and “bad-form” altogether. - -On the other side of Miss Davison was an Englishman, a young baronet, -who was already making himself conspicuous by the rapidity with which -he was dissipating the fortune which he had recently inherited with the -title. - -Gerard, uneasily glancing from the one to the other, and from these -three to the groups of gay visitors who were laughing and talking -around them, wondered what sort of position the rest of the guests -held, and whether there were many present of the type represented by -the spendthrift young baronet. - -There were two or three racing ladies, women of birth and position, -whose rank enabled them to go fearlessly wherever they fancied, without -calling down upon themselves the decree of banishment which lesser -mortals can only avoid by extreme discretion. - -Gerard wondered whether the ladies he saw were all of that venturesome -type, and whether it was considered rather a daring thing to visit -these bridge-playing Americans in the snug retreat they had chosen for -themselves. - -Meanwhile Miss Davison had been brought to the group under the lime -trees, and placed in a comfortable chair, and waited upon assiduously -by the two young men who had accompanied her from the house. - -Sir William Gurdon, the young baronet, was complaining of his ill-luck -at poker. Denver Van Santen laughed at him. - -“Wants a cool head--poker,” he remarked; “and to keep your mind on -what you’re doing. That Cora and her singing were enough to distract -anybody. We’ll get farther away from the music this evening, if we play -any more.” - -“Yes,” assented Sir William. “I should awfully like to play again, but -I don’t want to make such a duffer of myself as I did this afternoon.” - -“I don’t think you’re cut out for a poker-player. If I were you I -should give it up,” said Denver, in a decided tone. - -Sir William resented this as an imputation that he was not cool-headed. - -“I don’t know why you should say that,” he said rather sharply. “I -suppose poker has to be learned like everything else, and probably you -play it better now than when you first began.” - -Denver shook his head modestly. - -“Not always,” he said; “sometimes I’m an arrant duffer at it. Why the -other day I was cleaned out, absolutely cleaned out, by a fellow who -hadn’t played half a dozen times in his life. I _did_ feel a fool, I -can tell you!” - -“You shall try again with me this evening,” said the baronet. “I’m not -going to be beaten without a struggle, at that or at anything else.” - -Denver, however, tried to dissuade him. - -“You’ll only get licked,” he said simply. “Whatever sort of a player -you may make some day, and if you go on trying I suppose you will do -all right in time, you’re not strong enough to play with old hands like -me and the two others who were with us to-day.” - -Mrs. Van Santen shrugged her shoulders. - -“It’s an almighty shame to play cards all Sunday!” she said, in her -homely way. “I wonder you’re not ashamed of yourself, Denver, to start -it!” - -“Well, so I am, perhaps,” said he good-humoredly; “but I love cards, -and if anyone else wants to play, I’m ready to take him on, you bet!” - -Miss Davison, seated near Mrs. Van Santen, was sipping tea and nibbling -bread and butter. Gerard, when the other two young men grew warm in -discussion of poker and moved away a little, took the seat beside her. - -“Different this, from the way the Aldingtons spend their Sunday!” said -he, in a low voice as soon as their hostess had turned to talk to -someone else. - -“Yes,” said Rachel. “It’s rather shocking--till you get used to it.” - -“I think it would always seem shocking to me,” said Gerard. “I don’t -think I have any strong Sabbatarian instincts, but I suppose the old -Puritan survives in us English, for I must confess that to see cards -played all day on Sunday grates upon me; and I should have thought,” he -added quickly, in a lower voice, “that it would have grated on you too.” - -This home-thrust made her blush. - -“One has to make allowance,” she said, “for other people’s ways. It’s -quite true, as you say, that one’s Puritan instincts revolt from the -continual card-playing; but I suppose that very strict people would say -it’s just as wrong to amuse oneself as one does at the Aldingtons’, -with music and conversation.” - -“I don’t see how there could be the same objection to that.” - -“It’s only a question of degree.” - -“So that you really wouldn’t mind if we all, at the Aldingtons’, were -to sit down to poker and baccarat, instead of spending the Sundays -there as we do?” - -She turned to him quickly. - -“I really don’t see that we are called upon to decide those questions,” -she said. “Each one must lay down his own laws of conduct. As a matter -of fact, it’s a sentiment, and not any law, human or divine, that -guides us in the matter, isn’t it? You can’t pretend that card-playing -comes under the head of work, can you?” - -Stung by what he took to be her indifference, Gerard made a very -indiscreet speech. - -“Work! I’m not so sure of that,” said he. - -Miss Davison turned to him quickly. - -“Pray, what do you mean?” she asked sharply. - -But he did not venture to say more. Indeed, he felt that he had nothing -to say. He could not well have defined the secret instinct which made -him vaguely suspect that there was something wrong about the play, just -because Miss Davison was in the house at the time. - -He certainly would not have liked to avow that that was his reason for -his faint suspicions. But that it was because Rachel, who had been -concerned none the less he knew, at the bottom of his heart, in other -dubious transactions, was present at the Priory, that he suspected, on -hearing that Arthur Aldington had lost his money, that all was not as -fair as it looked in the play. - -He stammered and would have changed the subject; but she would not let -him. - -“Surely you don’t imagine,” she said, “that you would meet Lady Sylvia -and the Marchioness at houses where there was anything wrong! I’m -afraid, Mr. Buckland, you let your Puritanism carry you a great deal -too far.” - -She spoke with so much emphasis that he felt ashamed of what he had -said, the more so that he really had no grounds for supposing that -the two wealthy young Americans would do anything that was not fair. -Indeed, he had himself heard one of them trying to persuade a silly -fellow not to play poker any more. - -“Well,” he said, in a shame-faced manner, “I admit that there’s -something so distasteful to me in seeing men win money under their own -roof, that I said what I had no right to say.” - -“I’m glad you admit so much,” said Rachel with dignity. “It is not a -very nice suggestion to make that my friends, the people in whose house -I am staying, are other than honorable.” - -Remembering what he was forced to suspect concerning her, Gerard could -not help casting at her a quick glance, at which she blushed again. - -She knew very well that he suspected her of complicity in other risky -adventures, and she had no right to challenge him. - -“Well,” said he, “I suppose I ought to apologize, but I confess that -if I am forced to play cards here, and one feels awkward at refusing -always, when one is asked, I shall feel very despondent at having to -pit myself against such a lot of good players.” - -A change came over Rachel’s face. For a moment she sat silent, but then -she rose from her chair, and with a glance which invited him to follow -her, sauntered away to a flower-border, where she stopped, as if to -admire the mass of gorgeous blossom in front of her. - -He looked at her, as she stood, a beautiful and even queenly figure, -in her glittering black dress against the green of the foliage and the -rich coloring of the flowers; and if she had turned at that moment she -would almost have been able to read in Gerard’s face the feeling at -his heart, the passionate wistful longing to know the truth, the whole -truth about her, to learn, for good or ill, the secret which he knew -was gnawing at her heart, to be able to tell, once for all, whether -the woman who attracted him in spite of his knowledge, in spite of his -judgment, was worthy or unworthy of an honest man’s love. - - - - -CHAPTER XIV - - -He was quite near to her before she spoke, and then she did so without -looking up. In an off-hand tone, she said-- - -“I shouldn’t have expected you to play cards, after what you’ve said.” - -“Really! What have I said to imply that I should never, in any -circumstances, play cards?” - -She made an impatient gesture. - -“Oh, you are trifling,” she said. “I meant that, after all you’ve said -about Sunday, and about these people playing so well, it would be -inconsistent on your part to play here to-day.” - -“I may be obliged to. One doesn’t like to stand out when everybody else -is playing,” said Gerard. And, with an uneasy feeling that he was going -to have some hint given him, he drew her out. “I happen to have some -money with me. I can’t say I could afford very well to lose all of it, -but after all, at poker, and these gambling games, it isn’t always the -old hands that win.” - -She spoke with vivacity. - -“You would be very foolish to expect to win, pitted against men like -these two idle Van Santens, who care more for cards than for anything -else.” - -“Do you mean that you advise me not to?” - -“Certainly I do. Just as I should advise any man not to try his rawness -against the skill of practiced players at cards or at anything else.” - -“Do they always play for such high stakes?” asked Gerard abruptly. - -“Of course. They’re rich men, and there’s no excitement for them unless -the stakes are high. And I may tell you that, rich as they are, they -like winning as much as any poor man could do.” - -Gerard looked at her steadily. - -“May I say what I think, Miss Davison?” he asked, after a short pause. - -“Not if it’s anything disagreeable,” she said quickly. “I’ve heard too -many unpleasant speeches from you, Mr. Buckland, and for the future I -command you to keep silence with me unless you have something to say -which I shall be pleased to hear.” - -She tried to speak flippantly, but there was an underlying seriousness, -nay, distress, in her look and tone, which told him that she was no -happier than she had been when he last met her. - -“I’m going to say what I had in my mind, all the same,” he said, in a -voice full of deep feeling. “It’s only this: I’m sorry to see you here, -Miss Davison. It’s a change for the worse from Lady Jennings’ house, -and I’m sure you must feel it so. Why did you quarrel with her?” - -She was deadly pale, but she tried to hold her own and to carry matters -with a high hand. - -“Don’t you think,” she said, “that you’re rather indiscreet, Mr. -Buckland, to presume to lecture me upon my actions? If I find that I am -uncomfortable in the house of one friend, surely it is my own affair -if I try another? And pray what fault have you to find with Mrs. Van -Santen? Isn’t she a dear old lady, quite as kind in her way as Lady -Jennings?” - -Gerard frowned in perplexity. - -“Oh, I suppose so,” said he. “Still, the whole atmosphere is different, -the tone is lower; and what you gain in liveliness and gayety--and I -suppose you do gain there--is, in my opinion, more than made up for by -what you lose in refinement. There--I’ve offended you deeply, I know; -but I don’t care. It had to be said; and I shall never be satisfied -until I see you back again at the little house where you seemed to be -at home.” - -She turned upon him again, in the old way, ready with some haughty -speech expressive of her annoyance at his presumption; but, as she did -so, she met his eyes. And, just as it had happened before, it happened -again; she caught her breath; she could not go on; and with her eyes -full of sudden tears, and head which bent over the flowers as if to -hide her face, she remained silent, while he stood also mute, excited, -moved, longing wistfully to make her speak out and tell him the truth -that was troubling her. - -But this _tête-à-tête_ was not allowed to last long. - -Gerard, jealous himself, had been quick to notice in the looks of the -younger and handsomer Van Santen the keen admiration of Miss Davison’s -beauty and grace, which seemed but a natural tribute to her charms. - -Denver came up at a sauntering pace, and with a glance at Gerard, which -was by no means one of pure benevolence, asked-- - -“Are you two old friends now? Is Mr. Buckland a long-standing -acquaintance of yours, Miss Davison?” - -“I’ve known him a year, haven’t I, Mr. Buckland? Isn’t is about a year -since I first met you at the Aldingtons’?” - -“It’s getting on that way now. It was in October.” - -“Well, don’t treat him as if he was such an old friend that you haven’t -any eyes for newer ones, Miss Davison,” pleaded Denver, in that bluff -way which gave him an air of great honesty and good nature, but which -struck Gerard, at that moment, as being merely rude and ill-mannered. -“Miss Davison, I want you to come in and look over my shoulder--to -bring me luck,” he said. - -“Hadn’t you luck enough to please you this afternoon?” asked Gerard, -more dryly than was quite civil. “You seemed to have things all your -own way with Aldington and Gurdon, and the others!” - -Denver, instead of being offended, burst into a hearty laugh. - -“Did I?” said he. “Well then, come now, you shall take revenge upon me -for all the rest of ’em? Will that do?” - -Miss Davison came up to them laughing lightly. - -“Oh, no, Mr. Denver,” she said, “you mustn’t make Mr. Buckland play -cards on Sunday. It’s against his principles, I know. He’s told me so.” - -Denver Van Santen thrust his hands into his pockets, and turned to -Gerard with a jolly look of incredulous amazement. - -“Oh, come now, I can’t quite believe that,” he said. “You don’t mean -that in this old country there are still left people, sensible people, -who care a fig what day it is on which they have a good time?” - -“I don’t know that cards are my idea of a good time,” said Gerard -quietly. “I’m not fond of them, and I’ve only played poker once, and -that a long time ago.” - -“Won’t you try your luck now?” - -“I think not to-day,” said Gerard. “Aldington and I have to be getting -back to town.” - -“Oh, no. You’ll stay to dinner, won’t you? Aldington’s going to.” - -Gerard tried to get hold of Arthur, to persuade him to leave the -Priory without delay. But his friend had been too much attracted by -Cora Van Santen to be able to tear himself away so soon, and they -found themselves forced to stay to dinner, which was fixed on Sunday -at the early hour of half-past six, in order to leave more time for -card-playing afterwards, as Gerard discovered. - -When the guests who had stayed to dinner, who numbered some eight -or nine, retired to the drawing-rooms afterwards, they found there -some half-dozen new arrivals, who had dropped in for the evening. -When Gerard entered the music-room, after dinner, where he hoped to -be allowed to remain, in order to escape the card-playing, he caught -sight of a figure which he thought was familiar, but which he could not -immediately identify. - -It was that of a tall, broad-shouldered young man, dressed, like most -of the others, in dinner coat of the usual type. He stood a little -apart, as if not quite at home among the others, and Gerard looked at -him two or three times, without being able to recollect where he had -seen him before. He was a rather silly-looking man with gentle dark -eyes, an insignificant nose, and a black mustache, and he seemed, from -the little which Gerard heard him say, to be as dull and commonplace -a fellow as ever made one of the background figures at any social -gathering. - -He talked about the weather, and uttered those important remarks shyly, -as if ashamed of the sound of his own voice; altogether a very dull -and uninteresting person he seemed to be. - -Gerard overheard Sir William Gurdon asking one of the Van Santens who -he was. - -“Well, I believe his name is Jones, and that’s about all I know about -him, except that he’s been here three times, and hasn’t opened his -mouth more than twice,” replied Denver, with a laugh. “A regular type -of your bullet-headed, stolid Englishman, I call him.” - -“We’re not all so dull as he appears to be,” retorted Sir William, as -he turned away. - -Mr. Jones was so shy that Mrs. Van Santen took compassion on him, and -introduced him to one or two of the ladies, and in particular to Rachel -Davison, to whom she whispered-- - -“Your poor compatriot is so frightened that you’d be doing him a -kindness if you’d say something to him. Tell him it’s some time since -we Americans were cannibals; but for that matter, if we were still, I -think _he’d_ be quite safe.” - -And the good creature led the shy young man up to Miss Rachel, and -said-- - -“Mr. Cecil Jones--Miss Davison.” - -Rachel smiled and spoke kindly to the poor fellow, and tried to put him -at his ease. - -But Gerard was looking at the two spellbound. For Mr. Jones had had to -turn his back to him in order to make his bow to the lady to whom he -was thus presented. And Gerard, scarcely believing his eyes, stared -at him from this new point of view, and felt more and more convinced -that, though he had not recognized the dull, sheepish face, he knew -the back view of Mr. Cecil Jones; and that he was no other than the -young man who had beckoned Miss Davison out of the tea-shop, and who -had accompanied her to and from the police-station, on the day of the -shop-lifting incident at the stores. - -Gerard felt stupefied. - -What was going to happen? What were these two here for, pretending -to be strangers to each other, and talking with the air of forced -animation with which people do when they have been newly introduced? - -Gerard watched them furtively, and noted other strange things. - -It was not long after dinner when the card-playing began again, but Mr. -Jones excused himself by saying that he really scarcely knew one card -from another. There was much amusement at this, and Denver insisted -that if he knew nothing about cards he must learn, and made him choose -whether he would begin with baccarat, poker, or bridge. - -“Really,” protested the blushing young man, “it doesn’t much matter -what I begin with, as I tell you I know nothing about any one of them.” - -However, they would take no denial, and the unhappy young man was -thrust into a seat, forced to take the cards into his hands, and -exhibited such dense ignorance of even the way to hold his cards that -the Van Santens were secretly in fits of laughter at his expense, which -they found it hard to hide. - -He obstructed the game by his foolish questions, betrayed his -helplessness and incompetency at every move, and grew quite angry at -his own ill-luck. - -“I’d always heard,” he protested ruefully, when he had lost a couple -of sovereigns, the stakes having been lowered in deference to his -incapacity, “that beginners generally win. I don’t seem to, though.” - -“You’re not venturesome enough,” said Miss Davison encouragingly. “You -should play with a little more daring. Don’t be timid.” - -“Why don’t you take a hand yourself, to give him courage?” suggested -Denver. - -“Not at poker. I don’t understand it,” said she. - -“Well, at anything you like. What do you know? Baccarat? Nap? I don’t -care what it is as long as it’s cards,” said Denver. - -Miss Davison consented to sit down and make one at nap, and, to -Gerard’s uneasiness, she won as much as the Van Santens did. But still -Cecil Jones lost steadily, until he declared that he had no more money -to play with. - -Miss Davison seemed quite delighted at her own luck, and gathered up -her winnings in triumph. - -The others congratulated her, and Gerard watched her as she sailed out -of the room and on to the terrace, with her winnings in her hands to -show to Delia Van Santen. - -Delia was the center of a lively group who were sitting on the terrace -in the evening air, laughing and talking and enjoying themselves more -innocently than the gamblers within. - -Cora and Arthur Aldington were sitting apart on the stone balustrade, -and Gerard could see that the young man was getting every moment more -deeply in love with the graceful songstress. - -Miss Davison ran up to Mrs. Van Santen and showed her winnings with -delight; but the old lady was not pleased. - -“Dear me,” she said, “I don’t know what you young folks want with so -much money, that you must needs gamble to get it! I should have thought -it was much pleasanter to spend the evening in this beautiful air than -in those hot rooms! And you, Miss Davison! I’m surprised at you. I was -looking to you to win Denver from his gaming ways! He thinks so much of -you, and admires you so much! And now you’re encouraging him in it!” - -The old lady had talked herself out of breath, while Rachel only -laughed and put her winnings in her purse. - -“I’ll cure him,” she said, “by winning all his money and leaving him -without any! Won’t that do, Mrs. Van Santen?” - -And she laughed archly at the gentle old lady, who shook her head and -told her she was every bit as bad as the boys. - -Meanwhile the play went on, sometimes at one game, and sometimes at -another; and the luck varied a little, but only a little. - -Denver Van Santen warned all those who wanted to play poker with him -that they had better not unless they wanted to lose their money. - -“I’ll back myself,” he said quite frankly, “to play poker against -anybody. Against anybody--I don’t care who it is.” - -And truly enough, although at other games the luck varied a good deal, -it was hopeless to try to get the better of Denver at his favorite game. - -Harry Van Santen, who was a plain, wrinkled man, with long teeth and a -cold, funless smile, played bridge well, and won for the most part; but -his luck was subject to variations, and when he reckoned up his fortune -at the end of the play, he avowed himself a loser by two pounds ten. - -But Denver pursued a boastful and victorious course, which remained -uncheckered to the end. He was perfectly candid and honest about -his winnings, reckoned them up openly, and found that he had made -twenty-six pounds during the day. But he was so swaggeringly -triumphant, so carelessly sure of always retaining the luck he had had -that day, that he irritated some of the men, and got two or three -promises, among them one from Sir William Gurdon, that he should not be -allowed to win always. They would come another day and get their own -back. - -But Denver, laughing with great good humor, defied them all. - -They might come and play with him whenever they liked, but they would -get a licking, he said. He flattered himself he knew what he was -talking about. And while he admitted that he was weak in geography, -history, and the use of the globes, he was ready to bet his bottom -dollar that he would hold his own at his own favorite game till the end -of the chapter. - -He grew excited and challenged them to bring to the Priory any British -poker-player alive, and he would show him a thing or two he, the -Britisher, didn’t know. - -And so, good-humored to the end, but secure and confident in his -victories, Denver saw the guests off, and stood at the Priory door -waving his hand to the men whom he had made the victims of his skill. - -Gerard and Arthur were among the last to leave, Arthur being unable to -tear himself away from Cora’s side, and Gerard being very anxious, as -he always was, for just a last word with Miss Davison. - -When he got his opportunity, Gerard asked abruptly-- - -“Why did you pretend you’d never seen Mr. Jones before this evening?” - -Miss Davison opened wide eyes of surprise. - -“Really, Mr. Buckland, it’s very hard to have to say so, but don’t you -think you are going a little too far? I don’t know what you mean.” - -“You have met Mr. Cecil Jones before, but this evening you treated him -as if he had been a complete stranger.” - -A light came into her eyes. - -“Oh, I know whom you take him for,” she said quickly. “The man you saw -me with that day--the day when something happened at the stores.” - -“Yes, yes,” cried he, surprised at her sudden touch of candor. - -She smiled demurely. - -“But that man,” she said, with a smile of irritating superior -knowledge, “was not Mr. Jones at all. I swear it.” - -“You swear!” faltered Gerard. - -“Yes; I’m not at liberty to tell you that man’s name, but--it is not -Cecil Jones.” - -Gerard fell back, bewildered and wounded. He could not bear to face -fresh proofs of her duplicity. But was he mistaken? Or was she -forsworn? - - - - -CHAPTER XV - - -The last impression left upon Gerard Buckland’s mind as he went down -the drive with Arthur Aldington after they had taken leave of the -American family at the Priory, was that of a party of good-humored, -unpretending, easy-mannered people, anxious to enjoy life and to make -those around them enjoy it also. - -The group on the door step of the old Elizabethan mansion, as seen -partly in the moonlight and partly in the electric light which streamed -through the open door of the house, was a striking and a charming one. - -In the foreground stood the two brothers, Harry, tall, thin, solemn, -and perhaps rather unprepossessing but not at all behind the rest of -the family in the warmth of his invitation to the departing guests to -come again. - -Denver, the younger, broad-shouldered, deep-voiced, the embodiment -of good humor, perhaps rather addicted to his national vice of -boastfulness, but on the whole too unaffected and straightforward in -manner to be other than pleasing. - -Mrs. Van Santen, the picture of gentle good nature and simplicity, -was just behind her sons, with a hand on the shoulder of the younger, -who stood on the step below her. Her gentle voice could be heard but -faintly as she wished her guests good-bye; but the gracious, homely -figure was good to look upon, forming as it did a strong amusing -contrast to the elegance of her daughters, and to the luxury of the -house in which they lived. - -The daughters were, perhaps, the figures that remained the longest in -the minds of the departing guests. After the manner of young American -women, they were so amusing, so vivacious, and withal so quiet in their -manners, making their mark rather by quickness of intellect than by -loudness of voice, that it was impossible to think of them without -recalling the pleasure their accomplishments and graces had given. - -Delia, the elder, was the perfection of grace, and wore her plainly -made but well-chosen clothes with a distinction which a princess might -have envied. Without being very handsome, she was so lively, so full of -repartee and resource in argument, and so active and alert in passing -from group to group among her mother’s guests, assuring herself that -all were enjoying themselves, and that they were in congenial society, -that she might have been called the leading spirit of the family, and -was undoubtedly the pivot on which their social scheme turned. - -She it was who knew when to take a guest, sore over his losses at -poker, into the garden to enjoy conversation under the trees in the -soothing society of the old lady, or into the music-room to be coaxed -back into good humor by the sweet singing of her sister Cora. - -As for Cora, her musical gifts never failed to evoke the remark that it -was a pity she was not a professional singer, for such rare sweetness -of voice as she possessed ought to have been given to a wider circle -than any amateur can appeal to. - -But when anyone said this, the brothers would look rather offended, -and would say shortly that it might have been all very well for Cora -if she had been poor, to earn her living on the concert platform, but -that they could never think of allowing their sister, who had and -would always have, every luxury she could wish for provided for her, -to appear in public. If her voice was charming, let her use it for the -pleasure of her friends. - -Personally, then, Gerard had no fault to find with any of the family. -He might like some members of it better than the others, he might -disapprove of the tastes and habits which seemed to him to indicate -both want of consideration for their visitors and lack of those -qualities which make men lifelong friends. To spend so many hours at -cards was revolting to the young Englishman, and his principles and -prejudices alike made the spending of Sunday in this manner distasteful -to him. - -But this alone would have roused in him no suspicion that there was -anything wrong about these hospitable strangers. Many an English -household that he knew of spent Sunday in much the same way, and -incurred no suspicion of there being anything worse than a tendency to -dissipation on the part of its members. - -Racing ladies like Lady Sylvia and the Marchioness were known to play -bridge on most days, and yet they were not “cut” by their acquaintances -and friends. - -It was the fact that he had met Rachel Davison at the Priory which -filled Gerard with disquietude. For, whatever might be the truth about -her, it was undeniable that he had so far never failed to find her -connected in some more or less close way with things that had been -better undone. - -The incident in the crowd on the night of the ball; the affair at the -stores; her deceit towards her mother and Lady Jennings; all these -things combined to make it impossible to see in this fresh phase of -Rachel’s existence anything but some new form of trickery or ugly -mystery. - -To have seen her sit down to play cards with these Americans, -therefore, would alone have made him curious concerning them; but, -coupled with the fact that both she and the Van Santens had pretended -not to know the man Jones, her playing became at once suggestive to -Gerard’s unwilling mind of something being wrong with the play. - -What he would have passed without remark at any other time, therefore, -now became a source of disturbance and uneasiness to him; and instead -of taking for granted that Denver’s estimate of his gains that day was -correct, he made a little sum for himself, based on what he had heard, -in answer to his inquiries, concerning the luck of the rest of the -card-players. - -And the result of his calculations was to find that, instead of -Denver’s having won twenty-six pounds, which was his own rough estimate -of his winnings, he must have netted at least two hundred pounds. - -From this calculation it was easy to go on to others; and to say that, -if Denver played poker once a week only, and if he were always as lucky -and as skillful as he had shown himself that day, then his annual -income derived from the cards alone must be something approaching ten -thousand pounds. - -Of course he had no possible means of knowing whether Denver did play -poker every Sunday; and whether he invariably won at it; but, taking -the facts that he knew in conjunction with Miss Davison’s presence, and -with the singular fact that she and the others pretended not to know -Jones, who was clearly acting as a decoy, it seemed to Gerard terribly -difficult to get away from the conclusion that something was wrong -in the pleasant and hospitable household, and that Rachel Davison was -mixed up in it. - -And now she had deliberately told him a lie! He tried in vain to avoid -coming to this conclusion, but in the face of her denial that Cecil -Jones was identical with the man he had seen in her company more than -once, he could not believe her. Although to-day was the first occasion -on which he had seen the young man’s face, Gerard had so carefully made -a mental note of his figure and gait, that he was sure he could not be -mistaken. - -Arthur Aldington, who was his own chauffeur, was driving slowly and -carefully down the drive when suddenly he stopped the motor-car, and -looking out into the road towards which he was going, said-- - -“By Jove! There’s a breakdown, and it’s Sir William Gurdon’s big car in -difficulties, I believe.” - -Gerard jumped out and went down the drive to the gate, which had been -left open. - -Looking down the road he saw that Arthur was right: the big, handsome -car which had brought the baronet over from his Thames-side villa was -blocking the road, and beside it were three persons: Sir William, his -chauffeur, and Cecil Jones, whom the baronet had offered to take back -to town with him, which he could easily do, as he proposed to spend the -night in the city himself. - -Gerard went back to Arthur, told him he was right, and jumping into -the car again, turned and said-- - -“Sir William’s got that fellow Jones with him.” - -Arthur had not yet started the car, and he said in a low voice-- - -“I don’t like the look of Jones. He’s such an awful ass! I don’t want -to have to take him with us.” - -“Oh, I don’t suppose we shall have to do that. We don’t know what’s -wrong. Something very trifling, perhaps.” - -Still Arthur hesitated. He was in a very ill humor, on account of his -losses. - -“I suppose it doesn’t matter to him how much money he loses,” he said, -in a grumbling tone; “he looks that sort of chap, doesn’t he?” - -Gerard hesitated. He had in his mind the notion that Cecil Jones, -simple as he looked and sillily as he spoke, was not quite the innocent -jay he appeared. But yet he did not want to betray a suspicion of these -new friends of Rachel Davison’s until he was quite sure about them. - -“Did he lose much?” asked Gerard, instead of replying to his friend’s -question. - -“I don’t quite know. I saw a good deal of gold flying about, and he -said, with that sheepish smile of his, that he’d been cleaned out. I -wonder Miss Davison cares to stay with people who play cards all day on -Sunday!” - -“Well, it surprised me to see her playing, too,” admitted Gerard. - -“Yes. I shan’t say anything about that at home. Mother would be awfully -disgusted. And I can’t say I quite like it myself; and I know I don’t -like losing so much as I did.” - -“Why did you go on playing, then?” - -“Oh, you know one can’t help oneself. These people are rich, and they -don’t consider that other pockets are not all as deep as their own.” - -“Are they really so rich?” - -“Oh, yes. Of course I know everybody in America is called a millionaire -if he has a little money put by. But the father, old Van Santen, really -is a very rich man, as I happen to know, and a man with a decent -character, as rich men’s characters go out there. He’s expected over -here every day, and I fancy he’ll be rather surprised, if all I hear -about his rather straight-laced views is correct, at the way in which -his quiet family has transformed itself into a remarkably lively one. -Denver says they’ve all been kept in with too tight a hand, and that -now they have to make up for it.” - -“I don’t quite understand that fellow,” said Gerard. “He’s not -consistent. I heard him telling Sir William that he sometimes lost at -poker to beginners at the game. But then, later, he was boasting that -he could beat any poker-player in England.” - -“I don’t believe,” said Arthur viciously, “that he plays merely for the -pleasure of the game, as he says. I believe he’s trying to make a pile -for himself, in case his father, when he turns up, should object to the -way they’ve been going on, and cut off supplies.” - -This was a good suggestion, and Gerard muttered, “By Jove!” - -“Of course I don’t mean to suggest,” went on Arthur hastily, “that -there’s anything fishy about his play. Only that he isn’t indifferent -to what he makes by it.” - -“I think that too,” assented Gerard. - -“But pray don’t say I made any suggestion of the sort,” added Arthur. -“I shouldn’t like the girls to hear that I had said anything they -wouldn’t like to hear about their brother. And indeed I don’t know -that I have any right to say what I did to you; but I’m rather sore at -having been fool enough to lose more money than I can afford.” - -“Of course,” suggested Gerard tentatively, “if you suspect the one you -must suspect the rest, and surely you don’t think the ladies--” - -Arthur interrupted quite fiercely. - -“I don’t suspect anybody. I never said such a thing,” he said -irritably. “Of course it’s all right. But what I meant was that I don’t -like American men and their ways and habits and tastes, so well as I -like the feminine part of the nation. The daughters are charming, -perfectly charming, and the old lady is quite a treat in her refreshing -innocence. The sight of that quaint New England--it is New England, -isn’t it, that the quaint old figures come from?--New England figure -among all those smart young modern men and women, is something one -can’t forget.” - -“You’re quite right,” said Gerard enthusiastically. “She’s an old dear, -with her skimpy little shawl, and what I’m sure she would call her best -taffety petticoat.” - -The two young men laughed, and, as there was no sign of a forward -movement in the big car, Arthur started his motor, and soon arrived at -the spot where the group stood round the disabled machine. - -“Hallo! A breakdown! Anything we can do?” asked Arthur, as he stopped -and got down. - -Sir William was not at all pleased at his mishap, and he answered -rather shortly that there was nothing much the matter, and that if the -small car were to go on, he would soon overtake it. - -The artless-looking Cecil Jones was smoking a cigarette with the same -placid smile on his face which had irritated Arthur Aldington at the -card-table. He made weak suggestions as to the cause of the mishap, and -was treated by the others as a person who did not count. - -Gerard, however, who had reason to suspect that he was not quite so -simple as he pretended to be, went up to him, and, seizing a moment -when the others were all bending down to look into the machinery of the -disabled car, said-- - -“I think I’ve met you before, Mr. Jones, and I’m trying to remember -where it was.” - -The young man turned, with his sheepish smile on his face. - -“Have you?” he said. “I don’t remember you. Where was it we met?” - -Gerard felt irritated and angry. He knew that this man was either a -swindler who was working with Miss Davison in the dubious paths he -suspected, or else that he was a man who was desperately in love with -her, and whom she had twisted round her little finger, so that he did -what she told him to without question, if not without suspicion. - -To judge by his silly face, this latter was the more likely supposition -of the two. - -Gerard tried to take him by surprise. - -“Was it outside Lord Chislehurst’s house, on the night of the great -ball he gave a year ago?” he asked sharply. - -But there was no sign of confusion or intelligence on Cecil Jones’ face. - -“Lord Chislehurst’s!” he echoed stupidly. “A year ago! I don’t know -where Lord Chislehurst’s is. And I don’t think I was in England a year -ago.” - -Frustrated, Gerard decided to make a fresh attempt to take him by -surprise. - -“I daresay I’m wrong,” he said. “I’m not very good at remembering -faces. But you do remind me of a man I met a few days ago, coming out -of a police-station.” - -The words could be taken as insulting, but Cecil Jones was impervious -to insult. - -“I don’t think I’ve ever been in a police-station,” he said simply. - -“Not with Miss Davison?” - -Cecil Jones turned round so that he could stare blankly into his -questioner’s face. - -“Miss Davison!” echoed he. “Do you mean the lady I was introduced to -to-night?” - -“Yes,” said Gerard shortly. - -A broad stupid smile spread over the young man’s plump face. - -“Fancy thinking I should meet a smart lady like that in a -police-station!” he said buoyantly. “It sounds like the game of -consequences. ‘Where they met’--‘In a police-station.’ ‘What they were -doing’--‘Picking pockets!’” - -And he burst into such a long and silly laugh that Gerard, irritated -almost beyond endurance, did not dare to go on with his questions, for -fear of drawing down upon them the attention of the others, who turned -round to see what was the matter. - -But Gerard was more convinced than ever that this innocent-looking -young man was a person to be watched; and, resolved to see what became -of him that night, he found an opportunity of asking Sir William where -he was going to set his companion down. - -The baronet named a well-known sporting club. - -Arthur Aldington was calling Gerard to get into his car, and in a few -minutes they were on the road again. - -Gerard had made his plans, and, as his friend had offered to take him -back to his chambers in town, he could reckon upon being in time for -what he wanted to do, if only the big car were delayed sufficiently to -give the little one a good start. - -Things turned out as he wished. He and Arthur got to town before Sir -William; and Gerard went straight to the neighborhood of the club where -Cecil Jones was to be set down, and was able to conceal himself in the -entrance of a block of flats on the opposite side of the road. - -Here he waited for nearly half an hour, afraid he had missed his man. - -At last, however, he saw Sir William Gurdon’s big motor-car coming up -the street, and a few moments later it stopped at the door of the club, -and Cecil Jones got out, shook hands with Sir William, and went into -the building. - -The motor-car drove away, and Gerard remained on the watch. Not for -more than half an hour, for at the end of that time Cecil Jones came -out of the club building, and hailing a hansom, got in and drove off, -giving a direction to the cabman which Gerard could not hear. - -But he was far too much interested in what became of Jones to let the -matter rest like that. So he hailed a hansom in his turn, told the -driver to follow the vehicle before him, and continued the chase until -Jones’ hansom stopped in one of the streets off Charing Cross Road. -Here Cecil Jones got out, paid the cabman, and disappeared from sight -most mysteriously. - -Although Gerard was watching keenly, he was unable to tell exactly -at what point his quarry had disappeared. The street was rather dark -at this point, and there was a court, as well as the openings into -doorways, to be examined. - -Cecil Jones’ hansom drove away, and Gerard paid his own cabman and -got down to continue his pursuit on foot, but in vain. Jones had -disappeared as completely as if the earth had swallowed him up. - -Gerard looked upon this circumstance as not merely suspicious, but as -confirming his own belief that Jones, instead of being the innocent and -mild-eyed victim of expert gamesters that he had pretended to be, was -really a confederate of these Americans, if they were swindlers, or a -swindler who intended, in the future, to make money out of the boastful -Denver, and who began by posing as a harmless dupe or beginner, in -order to take the American off his guard. - -Gerard did not think the Van Santens were cheats; their father being a -man of good repute, as well as of great wealth, it was scarcely likely, -even if his sons had turned out loose-principled, that they would take -to dubious courses which would endanger their position in society. The -sons of such a woman as the gentle Mrs. Van Santen, too, were scarcely -the sort of persons to be accused of deliberate fraud. - -But that the younger made money by his card-playing, and that he -boasted of the fact was obvious; and Gerard thought that such a man -might very easily become the prey of a clever card-sharper, who might -begin by passing himself off as a bungling novice, and end by making -considerable sums out of the swaggering American. - -This was the view he was most inclined to take. Not for one moment -did he believe that the mild-eyed Jones was really a victim: he was -confident that he had been with Miss Davison on the occasion of the -shop-lifting, and he began now to ask himself whether he were not the -very man to whom he had seen her handing the flashing ornament on the -night of Lord Chislehurst’s ball. - -Perhaps they were both under the influence of the man in the white -mustache. Or perhaps--but this he scarcely believed possible--Cecil -Jones was no other than the military-looking man under a disguise. - -As this last suggestion came into his mind, Gerard tried to recall the -voice of the white-haired man, whom he had heard utter a few words to -Miss Davison before parting with her at the station. - -But on that occasion it was Rachel who had spoken clearly enough to be -heard, while the man had so subdued his voice that Gerard could just -hear him speaking, without being able to make out what he said. Such -a remembrance as he retained therefore of the sound of the elderly -gentleman’s voice Gerard could not rely upon as a help in his present -difficulty. - -One thing, and one thing only he was quite sure of, Cecil Jones, -instead of being the dupe he pretended to be, was a swindler, and a -very artful one. Nothing else would explain his conduct adequately. -Only a swindler, or a man used to the arts of concealment, would have -contrived so often to be seen without being well seen. Only a man who -had something to conceal would have affected not to know Miss Davison, -when, as a matter of fact, he must be on terms of old acquaintance -with her. And only a very clever man could have succeeded so well in -feigning absolute stupidity over the cards as he had done. - -Last and most important thing of all, Gerard was convinced that, -carefully as he had concealed himself while watching Jones, that astute -person must have seen him and must have laid his plans well in order to -throw his pursuer off the track. - -Sick at heart, and not knowing whether he now hated Miss Davison for -her duplicity and her obvious association with undesirable persons, -or whether he retained his old longing to believe in her in spite of -everything, Gerard went back to his rooms. - -He went to sleep that night upon a firm resolve to have no more to do -with Rachel Davison if he could help it; not to put himself in her way -again, and not to visit Lady Jennings until that lady had forgotten her -late friend and protégée, and interested herself in someone else. - - - - -CHAPTER XVI - - -Gerard was very greatly assisted in this determination by the fact -that he had received an invitation to spend the month of August and -the beginning of September with his uncle in Norfolk. And although it -cannot be said that he succeeded in forgetting Miss Davison while he -was away, yet in the enjoyment of his holiday he was able to believe -that he had cured himself of what he was ready to call his infatuation -about a girl whom he could not but look upon as better forgotten. - -Again and again he argued with himself, trying to find out some -possible reason for her conduct compatible with her being as honorable -and noble a woman as he had at first supposed. - -But stern facts stood in the way on all sides, and he had reluctantly -come to the conclusion that the less he thought about her the better it -would be for his peace of mind. - -And then, after six weeks of pleasant country life, disturbed indeed -now and then by recollections of Rachel, and vague longings to see her -again and to probe the mysterious depths of her wayward nature, he -returned to town, and straightway fell deeper into the toils than ever. - -It happened in this way. Gerard was with a party of his country friends -and relations at the Earl’s Court Exhibition one evening, and had just -finished dining with them at one of the restaurants, when, as he smoked -a cigarette by himself outside, he caught sight of Rachel Davison and -Denver Van Santen, walking slowly together. The young man was talking -very earnestly, and bending down to look into her face, while Rachel, -as far as Gerard could see, was listening to him without displeasure. - -In an instant all his good resolutions, his wise resignation, -disappeared. He was filled with the maddest jealousy of the handsome -American; and no amount of philosophical sneers at women availed him -when he looked at the girl who, after an absence of six weeks, seemed -to him ten times handsomer than she had ever looked before. - -Her black dress, of some clinging material, richly embroidered with -black chenille and jet, had long sleeves and a vest of tucked chiffon -of the palest pink; and her large black hat, trimmed with a cluster of -black ostrich tips and with one pale pink rose under the brim, suited -her handsome face to perfection. - -A cape of some soft black material, lined with tucked pink chiffon, -completed her costume, which, as usual with her, was carefully studied -down to the well-cut, high-heeled black shoes and black silk stockings, -and the glimpse of a pale pink underskirt trimmed with chiffon of the -same color that was shown as she held up her dress. - -In vain Gerard told himself that he was glad to have seen her with -Denver Van Santen, that now he could go his way with an easy mind, -secure in the knowledge that Rachel Davison was merely a friend and -accomplice of thieves, shop-lifters, and other undesirable persons, and -that the very fact of her allowing herself to be made love to by this -swaggering gamester proved conclusively how unfit she was to be loved -by any honest man. - -The fiercer he grew as he told himself these things, the more savagely -he watched the two as they sauntered among the people, and at last -joined a large group, among whom Gerard recognized the pale face and -simple gray silk gown of Cora Van Santen, and the homely features of -her mother, who, good soul, looked more out of place than ever, in -her old-fashioned large bonnet and heavy dolman, among the crowds of -well-dressed women around her. - -As before at the Priory, the family was surrounded by smart English -people, of whom Gerard recognized two or three. One was Sir William -Gurdon, who was talking eagerly to Delia, and another was Arthur -Aldington, who could not tear himself away from Cora. - -Gerard watched them from a distance, but did not go near them. - -He saw that Denver could not leave Rachel’s side, and that she, -instead of resenting his persistent attentions, appeared to be -encouraging him. - -But the firmness with which he told himself that he was glad, and that -now he could whistle her off and leave her to her undesirable friends, -soon left him; and on the very first opportunity, when he saw Rachel -for a moment on the outside of the crowd formed by the Americans and -their friends, he pounced upon her, and suddenly presenting himself -like a brigand rather than a casually met friend, said between his -clenched teeth-- - -“I must speak to you. I will.” - -He expected to be snubbed, to be dismissed more or less coldly; but, to -his surprise, Rachel turned very white, as she always did when excited, -and then flushed a little, and said-- - -“Very well. We can come back to Mrs. Van Santen afterwards.” - -She walked away with him at a rapid pace, so that they were soon lost -to the sight of her friends, and mingling in the general crowd. - -The night was fine and warm, and the gardens were full. It was without -the slightest difficulty that they got the opportunity Gerard wanted, -of speaking to her from the depths of his heart. - -“Why do you let that fellow talk to you? Do you care for him?” -he asked, conscious as he spoke that he was using a tone which, -considering all the circumstances, was as unjustifiable as it was -absurd. - -“I couldn’t help his talking to me, Mr. Buckland. I was staying with -his people before I went abroad with my mother, and I am visiting them -again now.” - -“Do you care for him?” - -“I like them all; and as for Mr. Denver, he wants me to marry him.” - -“To marry him! And you are going to?” - -She hesitated. - -“I haven’t given him any answer yet.” - -“Of course I know I have no right to ask.” - -He was trembling, and trying hard to speak in a quiet and cool tone. He -was conscious that, if his suspicions of her were well founded, there -was nothing in the least extraordinary in her marrying the swaggering -American, who, for that matter, was certainly what would have been -called a good match, since he was the son of a rich man. - -But the puzzle of the matter was that, knowing all that he knew, and -suspecting all that he suspected, Gerard felt that she was too good to -throw herself away upon this fellow, whom he believed to be guilty of -winning money from his guests, at least by dint of superior skill with -the cards, if not by something less creditable. - -Away from her he might and did believe in the possibility of her -complicity in crime; when in her presence he felt again that she was -incapable of anything dishonorable or criminal. - -Rachel drew a soft little sigh, which disarmed him completely. If he -had thought her capable of deceit, of guilt a moment before, that sigh -made him feel ashamed of such thoughts. He turned to her quickly. They -were in a dark part of the gardens, where, standing beside her, with -his face away from the light, he could speak at his ease. - -“Rachel,” he said, “I don’t believe you care for this fellow; I don’t -believe you would marry him. Will you marry me?” - -As had happened more than once before, the sudden betrayal of his -tenderness softened and unnerved her. - -“Oh, how can you ask me?” she burst out, in a hoarse whisper. “Thinking -as you do of me, why do you do it? It’s impossible that you can care -for me, impossible that you mean what you say.” - -The words, as she uttered them, sent shock after shock through him. At -one moment her heart-rending tones made him feel smitten with remorse -for doubting her; the next, a sort of shame, of humiliation in her -voice revived his worst fears. He stood silent beside her for a space, -unable to reply. - -A smothered sob from her loosened his tongue. Keeping quite still, so -that a person might have passed close to them without noticing how -vital was the subject of their conversation, how deeply moved they both -were, he said-- - -“How do you know what I think? Isn’t it enough for you that I tell you -I love you, that I ask you to be my wife? Rachel you are miserable. -You go and stay with these people, but you don’t care for them; you -listen to this man, but you don’t like him, you never could like him. -Why do you pretend to? Don’t tell me you mean to marry him: I know -better. You don’t love him, and you don’t trust him: you can’t. But -you’ve sometimes spoken, to me and to others, as if you did care a -little for me. Won’t you give up this feverish, miserable life that -you are leading? Won’t you be my wife, and rest and forget it all? You -won’t make so much money as you are doing now. You won’t be able for -a time at any rate, to wear such beautiful dresses as you do now; but -you would be happier. I’m not very poor, and I love you, in spite of -myself, in spite of--everything. Will you give it all up, and give up -these dubious American people, and learn to be happy? I could teach -you, Rachel, you know I could.” - -She was moved, as she so easily was by his passionate attempts to solve -the mystery of her life. - -But she kept her self-control, and shook her head. - -“Don’t ask me,” she said, in a tremulous whisper; “it’s of no use. I -can only say one thing: no, no, no.” - -“Why must you say that, if you feel that you would like to say -something else, Rachel? Listen. I know you are acting under orders. I -know you are leading a life you hate, and that you are doing it because -you are under the influence of a will stronger than your own. I know -that you wish you could break away from it, that you would give the -world to be free. And I know that something stronger than yourself -holds you down and binds you, and forces you into ways that torture -you, and into a life that is a living tomb for all that is best in you. -Rachel, Rachel, tear yourself away from it--break loose; say you will -be free, and with my help you will be.” - -His words had the most extraordinary effect upon the girl. At the first -mention of the superior power that held her in bondage, a violent -convulsion seemed to pass through her frame, and though she uttered -no sound, he knew that the unexpected blow had struck home. Then she -listened rigidly to the rest of his passionate speech, seeming to drink -in his words with avidity, to find some painful, piteous pleasure in -the expression of his belief, his entreaties. When he had let his voice -die away and was waiting for her answer, she did not look at him, but -he could hear her drawing her breath as if with difficulty, and he knew -that she was going through a great, a pitiful struggle with herself. - -He whispered again-- - -“Rachel, won’t you do it? Won’t you get free, and be my wife?” - -Then she turned a startled face towards him in the half-darkness. - -“I can’t marry you, Mr. Buckland,” she said tremulously. “I don’t deny -I’m gratified by the feeling you have for me, though I know I don’t a -bit deserve it. Believe me, you would be miserable if I were to listen -to you: I can imagine nothing more terrible for you than to have a wife -like me, with a capricious and headstrong temper, and a will that leads -her into all sorts of ways which she would perhaps have done better to -avoid. So I thank you, but I can only give you one answer.” - -He came a little nearer. - -“Rachel,” he said, “think again. Think it all over quietly--to-night--by -yourself, and then answer me afterwards. Think whether you would not -rather give up the life that makes you miserable, for the life which -would make you happy. Don’t answer me now; think it over first. Will -you?” - -She hesitated. This proud, headstrong girl was always easily moved as a -child when once he touched the right chord, as he seemed to be able to -do at will. - -“Yes, yes, I will,” she said, in a timid tone, like a very, very young -girl confronted by a difficult choice; “but I’m afraid--” - -“Don’t be afraid of anything yet. Weigh what I’ve said against what -others say, and decide which offers you the best chance of happiness.” - -There was a short silence, Rachel trembling and not looking at him, he -watching her with tender, imploring eyes. - -Suddenly there appeared between them the figure of Denver Van Santen, -and Gerard started back a step with a shock. - -“Why, my dear girl,” said the swaggering American, “I didn’t know what -had become of you. Did you mean to give me the slip?” - -As he spoke, he offered her his arm with an air of confident devotion -which nettled Gerard immensely. - -And without so much as a glance at the timid, passionate English lover, -whose look and attitude were eloquently expressive of his feelings, -Miss Davison put her hand caressingly through Denver’s proffered arm. - -“Of course I didn’t,” she said, in a very much more openly affectionate -tone than she had ever used to Gerard. “How could you think I would do -such a thing, Denver?” - -Raising his hat mechanically, Gerard stepped back, with a look on his -face as if he had been stabbed to the heart. - - - - -CHAPTER XVII - - -Gerard could scarcely believe his eyes when he saw how completely Miss -Davison appeared to have forgotten his very existence the moment the -American came up. - -Denver, on his side, treated his rival as if he had never seen him -before. Gerard thought, indeed, that the young American had perhaps -failed to recognize him. For neither he nor Rachel had been speaking -for some moments when they were startled by the figure appearing -between them. - -But that Miss Davison should behave with such marked incivility puzzled -and bewildered him. Not the usual gracious smile and bow of farewell -did she vouchsafe him as she walked away, listening amiably to the -eager talk of the American, smiling in answer to his remarks, and -behaving exactly as if she were enjoying his society to the utmost. - -Gerard wondered what it meant. Was she a coquette? She had never given -the least sign of it with him, having always been straightforward even -in her reticence, not pretending that there was no mystery in her way -of life, but treating it as one that she could not clear up, and that -she wished him to leave unsolved also. - -Now, however, she was certainly behaving as if she were encouraging -the young American; she was animated, charming, sweet, and she was -evidently aware that he was fascinated, and pleased by the fact. - -Yet she had but a moment before been touched, tender, serious, moved -by Gerard’s emotion, and ready to consent to think over the passionate -avowal which he had made. - -Now it looked as if she had never had a serious thought in her life. -Gerard could hear her rippling laugh, could see the lively movements -of her hand and head, which showed that she was talking as eagerly to -Denver as he to her. - -He watched them until they had almost disappeared, and then he suddenly -set his teeth and resolved not to be thrown off in this manner. He -would follow them, go up to the group of which they formed part, join -them and the rest of the Van Santens, and find out, if he could, -whether Denver was looked upon as the accepted lover he certainly -appeared to think himself. - -He knew very well, as he approached the group of which the primly -dressed and gentle old New England woman formed the center, that he -was very foolish to come so near the candle, and that he was risking -the singeing of his wings. But Miss Davison’s attraction for him was -stronger than his prudence, and a few moments after she had gone away -with Denver, Gerard found himself talking to old Mrs. Van Santen, and -listening to Cora and Arthur Aldington as they flirted merrily on one -side of him, and to Miss Davison and Denver, as they talked eagerly and -apparently with great seriousness, on the other. - -Delia Van Santen, watchful and tactful as ever, was the least talkative -of the party, over whom she kept a watchful eye, ever ready to avert -discord and to put in a pleasant word if disputes threatened or if -conversation languished. - -Only one member of the family was missing: this was Harry Van -Santen, the elder brother, and in Gerard’s opinion, by far the least -prepossessing member of the family. He was at his club, the others -explained; and nobody appeared to miss him. - -Miss Davison did not turn once in Gerard’s direction, or appear -conscious that he had joined the party. She seemed to have eyes for no -one but Denver, and it was impossible to doubt that, so far from being -disposed to resent the attentions of the young American, she was doing -her best to attract him, and succeeding perfectly in the attempt. - -Nobody indeed appeared to have the least doubt of what was going on; -and Arthur Aldington, during one of the rare intervals when he was not -engrossed with Cora, laughed as he looked in the direction of the two, -and remarked to Gerard that there was little doubt that America was -going to carry off one of our English beauties. - -Gerard could not control all show of his indignation at the suggestion. - -“She’s only flirting with him,” he said. - -Arthur laughed dryly. - -“It’s more than that, I think, and so do the rest of the family. Ask -Mrs. Van Santen.” - -Indeed the old lady had been beaming benevolently upon the young people -for some time, as Gerard knew. And the knowledge that Rachel was thus -openly avowing her preference for and encouragement of the man whom he -considered a “bounder” oppressed and irritated him in equal degree. - -In vain he struggled against his uneasiness, his anger. And at last, -afraid of trusting himself among the sharp eyes which could, he did -not doubt, fathom the distress he was suffering, he withdrew from the -party, and rejoined his own. - -But the evening was heavy and gloomy for him, and he felt that his -very presence was casting depression over his friends, so he presently -excused himself, and leaving them, was hurrying out of the grounds, -when he chanced to catch sight of the Americans once more, and saw -Rachel, still with Denver in close attendance, but with a look in her -eyes which he recognized as no longer one of idle amusement, but of -acute anxiety. - -A moment later, as he was close to the gates, he felt a touch on his -arm, and looking round, found Arthur Aldington beside him. - -“One moment, Buckland, Miss Davison sent me to say she would like to -speak to you before you go away. If you’ll wait near the seat by the -trees over there, she’ll find an opportunity of escaping, and I’ll -bring her there myself.” - -Gerard hesitated. - -“She won’t be able to get rid of that Van Santen,” said he sullenly, as -he glanced behind him. - -“Trust a woman--especially a woman like Rachel--for getting rid of -anyone she wants to get rid of,” said Arthur. “And really my own -opinion is that it would be an awful thing for her if she were to think -seriously of that bounder.” - -Gerard echoed the word inquiringly. - -Arthur nodded. - -“Men don’t like the fellow,” he explained. “He’s too noisy, too--too -overbearing; too much side and too much swagger. It’s amazing to -everybody that a well-bred woman like Miss Davison should put up with -him for a moment. It’s the money, I suppose. Well, will you come?” - -Gerard nodded silently. It was of no use to try to be wise where Rachel -was concerned. He could only hope to escape being utterly foolish, and -without much prospect of success. - -Two minutes later he was waiting at the appointed spot, and in another -two minutes Rachel herself, with Arthur Aldington, came up and met him -there. Arthur disappeared with a few words from Rachel, who arranged -that he should fetch her in ten minutes and take her back to the Van -Santens, and then she and Gerard were once more alone together. - -The change in her was so sudden, so great, that he could scarcely -believe his eyes. Every trace of the brilliant manner, of the laughing -face, the light, easy manner, the slight affectation, which had -distinguished her tone and manner but half an hour ago, when she was -with Denver and among the rest, had disappeared, and given place to a -demeanor touching in its grave sadness. - -“Mr. Buckland,” she began quite simply, as soon as Arthur was out of -earshot, “you must think me a strange creature, I’m afraid.” - -“I don’t know what to think of you,” he replied desperately. “You -seem to be, not one or two, but half a dozen women; and they’re all -charming, though some of them--might well break a man’s heart.” - -“I don’t want to break yours, or any man’s,” she said simply. - -“You must break mine or Van Santen’s,” he said dryly, “if you go on -acting as you’ve done this evening, being one woman, and a very sweet -though puzzling one, to me, and quite another, a brilliant, charming -one, to him. How am I to believe that you like one of us better than -the other? You were certainly doing your best to make him think he was -the man you liked. I don’t want you to make a fool of me like that. I -can’t deny that you could if you wished.” - -She sighed softly. - -“I’m not going to tell you I like you,” she said gently. “You are -welcome, if you wish, to believe I don’t care in the least.” - -“No, no, I’d rather you should pretend you cared for me--at least, I -think I’d rather!” stammered poor Gerard, who was struggling against -the impulse to yield himself wholly to the personal fascination she -exercised over him. - -She looked at him steadily, but with eyes so mournful, so full of some -deep-seated distress, that he was seized by an overpowering desire to -know what the secret was which made her such a tantalizing, maddening -mystery. Why was she so sweet to him, after having been but a short -time before in his very presence, just as irresistible, in a wholly -different fashion, to another man? - -Was she a coquette, after all? Was she only trying to show her power, -by bringing to her feet a man whom she had recently disgusted by her -open encouragement of another? - -Miss Davison read his thoughts. - -“I don’t pretend--to you,” she said simply. “I don’t tell you I care -for you. You can think, if you like, that I like someone else better.” - -“But I don’t like to think so!” burst out poor Gerard. - -She went on imperturbably. - -“You may think, if you like, that, overpowered, dazzled by the thought -of marrying a rich man, and being out of reach of poverty, and saved -from the necessity of hard and distasteful work any longer, I have -decided to encourage the attentions of a man who is deeply in love with -me, and who could undoubtedly enable me, if I married him, to live an -easy and leisurely life. You may think, if you like, that I am quite -at liberty to do this, and that it is the wisest thing I could do. You -may think, too, if you please, that this rich man is not exactly the -sort of man I should have chosen if I had been quite free to choose, -but that, not being quite free, I was justified in encouraging, and in -accepting him.” - -“But are you sure he is rich, and that he is not merely dependent upon -the pleasure or caprice of a father who may, or may not, approve of him -and intend to leave him well off?” argued poor Gerard earnestly. “Miss -Davison, believe me, I wouldn’t be selfish and mean enough to say a -word against this young Van Santen if I could think him worthy of you. -Believe me, though I own I’m jealous of him, I wouldn’t show unworthy -or despicable jealousy of him or of any man. But it has occurred to -me to doubt whether he is the sort of man you ought to trust yourself -with. And I should like, if I may dare, to beg you not to definitely -give your promise to marry him until his father has arrived in England, -and until you’ve made sure that the young ones are really going to be -well off.” - -Miss Davison smiled faintly. - -“Do you want me to make sure of my bargain then, before I sign?” she -asked. - -“Yes,” answered he steadily, “I do. I know I’m jealous: I own it. -I think this Denver Van Santen is not good enough for you. But -I understand your point of view, and I sympathize with you; and -therefore, I say, if as I suppose, you propose to marry this man, not -because you care particularly about him, but because he is well off and -can make life easier for you, do not be in too great a hurry over it: -make sure, before you promise, that the other side is in a situation to -bring to the bargain all you expect of it. It sounds a cold-blooded way -of speaking, I know, but, believe me, coldness is the last thing you -need accuse me of where _you_ are concerned.” - -Miss Davison listened with the same air of profound and serious -interest that she had given to him earlier in the evening. - -“You’re quite right,” she said at last. “Then whatever happens, I shall -take your advice, and I shan’t definitely accept Denver until I’ve seen -his father.” - -Gerard assented eagerly. - -“Yes, that’s what I meant,” he said quickly. “If old Van Santen, whom -everybody seems to speak well of, should agree to the match, and if you -should like him and get on well with him, then I say you might have a -chance of happiness with the son; but--” - -He stopped. - -“But what?” - -Gerard looked up, half shyly. - -“I don’t think it would become me to say any more,” he said frankly, -“considering, as I’ve told you, that I’m jealous.” - -Again a faint smile flickered over Rachel’s face, then, in a sweet, low -voice, she said-- - -“I like you to be jealous, Mr. Buckland.” - -But he burst out passionately-- - -“Don’t. You have no right to use me like this, no right to send for me -to talk about your intended marriage with another man, and then--and -then--to try--to try--” - -“To try to make you see that I’m grateful for the interest you’ve taken -in me, that I appreciate your generosity, that I take pleasure in your -society? Is that what I have no right to do, Mr. Buckland?” - -But Gerard would not be brow-beaten. He stuck to his guns. - -“Yes,” he said stoutly, “that’s what I contend. If you, knowing as -you do that I’m madly in love with you, that I’ve loved you through -everything, in the face of mysteries and secrets which were enough -to make me decide never to speak to you again, in the face of--other -things of which I scarcely dare speak--if you, knowing all this, as I -say, have sent for me only to tell me you’re grateful for my interest -and all the rest of it, you’re treating me badly. You have no right to -try to make me think of you more than I do, no right even to be kind, -unless--unless--” - -He paused, and she answered steadily-- - -“Unless I’m prepared to give up my career, my position, my friends, -even, all for you? Is that what you mean?” - -She said this with raised eyebrows, as if expecting him to receive her -speech with a denial; but he took up the challenge at once. - -“Yes,” he said, “that, I suppose, is what I do mean. I don’t think you -ought to encourage a man to the extent you are encouraging that young -Van Santen, and to try to encourage me--at the same time. It doesn’t -matter when a girl plays that sort of game with men who don’t really -care for her. But this Yankee fellow appears to be in earnest, and by -Jove! you can’t pretend to know that I’m not. You ought to make up your -mind, and throw over the one, and stick to the other.” - -“I don’t think you appreciate the difficulty of my position, Mr. -Buckland.” - -“I don’t suppose I do. How can I? You don’t take me into your -confidence. And I’m ready to do without that. All I ask is that you -should decide for your own happiness. If you think you will be happier -with Van Santen for a husband than with me, why marry him and be happy; -but I don’t believe, somehow, that you do think that. I don’t think you -would send for me if you had nothing but that to tell me. Come, Rachel, -why did you send for me? What had you to tell me?” - -Miss Davison’s handsome face quivered. - -“I almost wish,” she said, “now, that I hadn’t sent for you; but--” -Suddenly her face changed, and he saw a look of intense pain pass over -it. “I couldn’t bear that--you should think--I didn’t care. And--only I -don’t want you to ask me why--I didn’t dare to offend Denver by letting -him think I cared for you.” - -“Still, you need not have turned away from me as you did, without a -word. You might have given me a word, a smile, a look.” - -Rachel’s breath came quickly, her face softened, her eyes grew tender, -and she whispered-- - -“I didn’t dare!” - -The words were an admission, and in a moment Gerard was close beside -her, looking into her face, begging her not to play with him. - -“You love me, Rachel, you love me, and not this fellow! Why don’t you -own it? Why can’t you throw him over, and tell him and everyone that -you care for me, that you’re going to marry me? Don’t worry your head -about your career, about money, about anything. I can’t make you rich -at once, but I’m not quite a pauper even now. You will have to make -some sacrifices, but they won’t be so hard. Your mother will not mind -living in a smaller house, and your sister has had a year’s schooling, -and Lady Jennings will take charge of her, and bring her out and -all that. Even for your family there’s no need for you to sacrifice -your own happiness any longer. Rachel, Rachel, say that you will cut -yourself off from all these people whom you hate and whom you are -afraid of, and make up your mind to be happy.” - -She was deeply moved by his passionate words, and her tears were -falling fast. But she was steadfast, even in her sorrow. - -“I can’t,” she said. “You mustn’t ask me why, but I can’t. I know I’ve -been selfish to ask you to come to speak to me, but I couldn’t let you -go like that--thinking I was like a stone. I’m involved--too deeply to -get free. There--that’s all I dare tell you. And now you had better try -to forget me; it’s the only thing to do. I’ve thought it over, indeed, -and I can’t get free, and I can’t move independently.” - -This admission passionately uttered, was a terrible shock to Gerard. - -“But what will the end be--it must have an end?” he asked quickly. - -She turned upon him a look of intense alarm. - -“An end! What do you mean?” - -He spoke out boldly-- - -“You don’t suppose it can go on forever? That the mystery will never -be found out? That you can go on forever escaping by the skin of your -teeth?” - -A faint smile, confident if not very happy, appeared on her features. - -“I’m in clever hands, very clever hands,” she said. - -“But the work revolts you! It’s horrible--shocking!” - -“Well, we won’t discuss that now. I’ve told you before all that I could -tell you about it. There’s Arthur coming for me. I must go.” - -“One moment. Tell me honestly: would you give everything up and marry -me, if you could?” - -She hesitated. - -“I don’t know whether I dare answer you truly; but I will--if you will -promise to take no advantage of what I say.” - -“I promise.” - -“Well then, yes, I would throw over everything--if I could.” - -He touched her arm trembling and hoarse. - -“Now promise me just this, that you will make one appeal--one strong -appeal--this week, at once, and try to get free; and let me know if you -succeed. You will, if your heart is set on it, I know.” - -She shook her head drearily. - -“You overrate my determination, my strength of will, all the fine and -noble qualities which, somehow or other, you still contrive to imagine -in me,” said she gently. “I have no such force of character as you -think. I’m a poor, wretched puppet, dancing to anyone who is clever -enough to play the right tune. Don’t hope, don’t hope.” - -“I do hope, all the same,” cried he passionately, and hurriedly, as -Arthur, perceiving that he was coming too soon, delayed a little, and -lingered just out of earshot. “I want you to make this appeal, and to -let me know the result. Will you? Will you?” - -She smiled sadly. - -“I can tell you the result already,” said she despondently; “but if you -like, I will make it.” - -He had no time to say more, for Arthur had joined them, rather -sheepishly, rather bewildered. He carried Miss Davison back to her -friends, and then caught Gerard up as he was leaving the grounds, -having made him a sign that he wanted a word with him. - -As soon as the two young men met, Arthur spoke-- - -“Rachel is treating you badly,” said he. - -“How do you mean?” - -“Well, she’s encouraging you, I could see by her looks, and yours. -But--she’s engaged to Denver Van Santen all the time.” - -Gerard was startled. - -“Are you sure?” - -“Denver says so--so do the family. It’s looked upon as settled.” - -Gerard laughed harshly; but he would not believe. - -“They may think so, but they may make too sure,” he said. - -Arthur Aldington threw at him a compassionate look, as one does at -a man, once intelligent and amiable, who has just been declared a -lunatic. But the words which rose to his lips, words of congratulation -to Gerard on his escape, he thought it wiser not to utter. - - - - -CHAPTER XVIII - - -At the end of a week Gerard received a letter addressed in a -hand-writing which he did not know, but which he felt sure was that of -Rachel Davison. The very envelope and note paper seemed, he thought, to -be characteristic of her. - -The letter itself was very short. - - “DEAR MR. BUCKLAND,--I have kept my word to you. I have tried, and I - have failed, as I said I should. Burn this, please.--RACHEL.” - -Gerard looked long at the words, which seemed to burn into his brain. -He knew what misery of effort and failure they recorded. But he did not -comply with her command and burn the letter. He folded it carefully -again, and treasured it as he might have done a communication from a -dear friend. It seemed to him to be the knell of all his hopes. - -But in spite of the despair with which the letter and his knowledge of -some of the facts of Rachel’s position inspired him, he did not cease -to think about her, and to wonder if there were no possible means of -freeing her from the unseen hands which were holding her prisoner. If -he had believed Denver to be an honorable man, he would have stifled -his own feelings, and would have found consolation in knowing that, by -marrying him, she would free herself at once from the thraldom in which -she was held. - -But unhappily, he could not feel sure that Denver himself was honest, -and his memories of the day spent at the Priory were by no means of -a sort to leave upon his mind an impression of unmixed innocence and -bliss. - -Was Denver one of the guiding spirits of a conspiracy, of which the man -with the white mustache was a member? And was Denver anxious to marry -Rachel in order to make stronger the bonds in which she was held? - -Against this notion there stood out the remembrance of the rest of the -Van Santen family; his knowledge that the father was a man of wealth -and good repute; the mother a good creature incapable of guile; the -daughters charming women, of whom it was difficult to suspect anything -wrong; the two brothers indeed were not so satisfactory, but there -was this to be said of Denver, that he boasted openly of his skill at -cards, and was ready to challenge all comers. Of the plain-featured -Harry, with the hard, sunless smile, Gerard knew nothing. Whether he -won or lost at cards he did not talk about his luck, and his manner was -as quiet and reticent as that of his brother was swaggering and loud. - -Somehow Gerard did not trust him the more on that account. - -While Gerard was still smarting from the blow of Rachel’s letter, he -was much surprised on reaching home to his chambers one afternoon at -about five o’clock, to hear that a lady had called to see him, and not -finding him, had said that she would call again between five and six. - -While he was still asking questions about this mysterious lady, with -certain absurd but undefined hopes in his heart, he was informed that -she had come back again, and there was ushered into his presence, to -his intense astonishment, the homely figure of Mrs. Van Santen. - -He was so much surprised that for the moment he could scarcely greet -her. He at once guessed that she had something to tell which he should -not care to hear. - -“You didn’t expect to see me, did you, Mr. Buckland? I guess you are -about as surprised as if the Empress of Morocco had looked in.” - -“I didn’t expect this pleasure, certainly. It is all the greater,” -stammered Gerard, as he offered her a chair, and ordered some tea. - -“No, don’t you trouble to get me any tea. I’ve had some,” said the good -lady, as she settled herself in his best arm-chair, and looked round -the room. “And so these are bachelor chambers, are they? And do you do -your own house-keeping, Mr. Buckland?” - -“Some of it,” said Gerard, smiling. “Not always very successfully.” - -“I wonder you don’t suit yourself with a wife, Mr. Buckland?” - -“I’ve had thoughts of it sometimes. But on the whole--” - -“They tell me,” and she suddenly turned upon him a pair of eyes which -he saw to be full of unexpected shrewdness, “that you had thoughts of -Miss Davison.” - -He grew pale at the remark. - -“Unfortunately she had no thoughts of me,” he said hurriedly. - -“Ah!” Mrs. Van Santen bent forward, and stared intently into his face. -“There was something in it then? You know her well, this Miss Davison, -Mr. Buckland?” - -What on earth was she going to ask him? Gerard, feeling that he should -be called upon to go through a trying ordeal, braced himself up to the -occasion. - -“I’ve had the pleasure of meeting her at the house of several of my -friends.” - -“You know her people too, I suppose?” - -“Yes, I know her mother, her sister, and, as I’ve said, a good many -friends of hers.” - -“Ah! And they’re good sort of people, satisfactory sort of people? -There, there, don’t get so red. I don’t mean to put you through a long -catechism. But the fact is, one of my sons has gone and fallen in love -with the girl, and I’m not quite sure I approve of it. I’m particular -about my sons. I want them to marry girls who will have a good -influence over them, and I’m not quite sure about this young woman.” - -Gerard was aghast. He could see that the mother’s shrewdness had -fathomed the fact that there was some mystery about Miss Davison, and, -with the daring of an American, she had at once searched in the ranks -of her acquaintances for someone who would be likely to tell her all -she wanted to know about her proposed daughter-in-law. She had had -the wit to guess that Gerard, who was evidently in love with the girl -himself, would not be inclined to be too indulgent towards her, or -to paint her family or herself in too rosy colors to his successful -rival’s family. - -Gerard did not know what to say. He felt quite sure that, whatever -might be the ugly truth about the bondage Rachel was in, she was quite -good enough for a man like Denver, a boastful, swaggering fellow, -fond of cards and of little else, and as obtrusive and bold in his -love-making as if he had been twenty times Rachel’s superior. - -On the other hand, he shrank from telling a direct lie to this simple -and trusting woman, who had come to him in her doubts and fears to -learn the truth about her son’s future wife. - -“Surely,” he said rather coldly, “your son is old enough and clever -enough to hold his own, and to be ready to influence his wife rather -than to be influenced by her.” - -The old lady shook her head slowly. - -“One might say so, if one knew the world less well than I do,” she said -shortly. “But a handsome wife can do a lot one way or the other with a -man.” - -“What makes you think Miss Davison’s influence would be other than -good?” asked Gerard. - -The old lady put her head on one side and looked at him keenly. - -“Perhaps it’s a kind of instinct, as one may say,” said she. “Or -perhaps it’s something I’ve noticed and wondered at. She’s by way of -being a bit of a flirt, isn’t she now, Mr. Buckland? She’s been nice to -you, and nice to Denver, of course. And it seems to me she’s looked at -that young man Jones in a way that suggested that she’d been nice to -him too, though, mind you, she told us she’d never met him before he -came to our house. Now do you happen to know whether that was true or -not?” - -The old lady had been sharp-eyed, and Gerard felt uneasy under her keen -glance. - -He thought evasion of the point his best course. - -“Who is Jones?” he asked innocently. “Have I met him? Do I know him?” - -“He was at the Priory that day you came,” said Mrs. Van Santen. “A -quiet-looking young man with a black mustache.” - -Now Gerard had some reason for believing that the young Van Santens -knew Cecil Jones as well as Rachel did, but he could not make this -suggestion to their innocent old mother. So he said-- - -“I remember; but I can tell you nothing about him, as it was the first -time I’d met him myself, and I haven’t seen him since.” - -The old lady was watching him keenly. Evidently she was conscious that -something was not quite above-board in her surroundings; but Gerard, -while sympathizing with her strongly, felt that he could not betray his -own fears, lest he should bring suspicion upon Miss Davison. - -He thought that the motherly body had perhaps been slowly waking to the -knowledge that her sons’ card-playing was excessive, and that she might -also have heard nasty things said about Denver’s unfailing luck. She -seemed rather disappointed that she could not learn more from him. - -“Now as to this Miss Davison,” she went on, in a grumbling tone, “of -course she’s very good-looking and all that, and dresses in style, and -carries herself like a queen; but I should like to meet her mother, and -the girl doesn’t seem to want to let us meet. Do you know all about the -old lady? And her family?” - -“I know the mother is the widow of an officer who had rather a -distinguished career, and that the family is a good one, several -members of it holding high posts in the army and navy, especially the -army.” - -The old lady nodded dubiously. - -“I should like to see some of these grand relations,” she said at last, -rather sharply. “We’re good enough for ladies with titles to call upon; -I should have thought we were good enough for these Davisons!” - -“Oh, there’s no suspicion of that sort of thing about them,” said -Gerard hastily. “Mrs. Davison is the mildest and gentlest of elderly -ladies, and she would be very shy, I think, if she were to find herself -in such a merry crowd as that you had at the Priory the Sunday I was -there.” - -“Why don’t she live with her daughter?” asked Mrs. Van Santen -aggressively. - -“Miss Davison has to live in London, on account of her work. It doesn’t -agree with her mother.” - -“H’m! That place agrees with most mothers that agrees with their young -daughters,” said she dryly. “And as for Miss Davison’s work, she’s -having a good long holiday, I guess, just now!” - -“Doesn’t she come backwards and forwards to town from the Priory?” - -“Oh, yes, she does, now and then; but she must be clever if she can do -much work during the short time she’s away! However, I won’t take up -your time, Mr. Buckland, if you’re busy. I’m sorry you can’t say more -to set my mind at rest about the girl. But, anyhow, I hope you’ll come -down and see us again. We’re always glad to see our friends, you know, -and there’s generally a good many of them down there, and we give them -a good time, as you know. Good-bye.” - -She shook hands with him and went away, refusing to let him accompany -her as far as the door, where she said that she had a cab waiting. - -Her visit made Gerard uneasy, as it confirmed some of his fears. He -felt little doubt that the mother was anxious about her sons’ gambling -propensities, and that her sharp eyes had discovered that there was -some mystery about the woman whom she, at least, looked upon as her -younger son’s fiancée. - -The visit of the old lady left him in a state of great confusion of -mind. He did not know quite how things stood at the Priory, whether -the engagement was definite, in spite of Rachel’s promise, or whether -she was waiting, as she had said she would do, for Mr. Van Santen’s -appearance. - -And he could not tell how much Mrs. Van Santen really knew about -Miss Davison, and whether she was concealing the full extent of her -suspicions, in order to learn more if she could. - -He wished that he could get another opportunity of conversing with -Rachel herself; and he resolved, in spite of his knowledge that he -would find the experience a trying one, upon going down to the Priory -again, as Mrs. Van Santen had invited him to do, on the very next -Sunday. - -The weather had changed since his last visit; the evenings had become -chilly; and the card-playing was carried on with more zest than ever in -consequence. - -Otherwise the essential features of the hospitality offered were the -same. Cora sang; Delia went from group to group, with ready tact and -charm smoothing over gaps in the conversation, and introducing to each -other such people as she thought would find each other’s conversation -congenial. Mrs. Van Santen was the same homely, dear old soul as -ever, pouring out tea and coffee with energy, and plaintively telling -her sons she wished they had something better to do than play cards -morning, noon, and night. While the brothers played poker and bridge -assiduously, and Rachel, as handsomely dressed as ever, but with a -face paler than before, took rather a background position, and seemed -listless and languid, and anxious to avoid Gerard. - -Arthur Aldington was there, but Cecil Jones was not. And the time -passed much as it had passed on the occasion of Gerard’s last visit -until quite late in the evening, when suddenly, while Gerard was -sitting in the music-room, with Arthur, listening to Cora’s exquisite -singing, a man’s voice rang out through the adjoining room, and that in -which they were, from the room devoted to card-playing, which was the -furthest away of all. - -“I say that you’re not playing fair! I say that I’ve been cheated!” - -It was the voice of Sir William Gurdon, and upon the last word they all -heard his fist come down with a loud crash upon the table. - - - - -CHAPTER XIX - - -Upon Gerard the sounds of the disturbance came with a curious sense of -something long expected having come to pass. He scarcely felt so much -as a slight shock of surprise. - -Being, therefore, in a condition to notice things, he looked round him -at the various faces in the music-room, and noted the effect the noise -had upon his companions. - -Cora, who was singing at the piano to her own accompaniment, stopped -short with a low cry, and covered her face with her hands. - -Arthur who was standing beside her, grew red and indignant, and called -Sir William by several uncomplimentary names. - -Lady Sylvia and Delia, who were talking on a sofa, looked at each other -in horror, and rose, as if uncertain what to do. - -Two men whom Gerard had previously seen at the Priory, and who were -staying in the music-room to listen to Cora’s singing in the intervals -of poker, muttered something to each other in an undertone, and -promptly went to the scene of the disturbance. - -Gerard, having noticed these things, and hearing that the disturbance -in the card-room was growing louder instead of calming down, slipped -out of the room and across the next, and looked in at the third, where -the unpleasant scene was taking place. - -As he passed through the intermediate room, he noticed that Mrs. Van -Santen, with her poor old face blanched with horror, was sitting alone -bolt upright in a corner, clasping her hands and apparently too much -alarmed to speak or to move. - -In the card-room itself all was confusion. Sir William Gurdon, flushed, -excited, scarcely intelligible was glaring across the card-table at -Denver Van Santen, who had risen, like all the rest of the players, -and who was standing with his arms folded and with a proud look of -indignation on his handsome face, surrounded by men who were all -speaking at once, some addressing one of the disputants, and some the -other, and all failing in making themselves distinctly heard. - -Harry Van Santen, who was the coolest man in the room, was the first -person to make himself clearly heard. Standing on the outskirts of the -crowd, he cried, in a thin, sharp, penetrating voice-- - -“Give him a chance. Make yourself understood, Sir William, if you’re -sober enough.” - -At these words, which raised a fresh issue, and were met with a torrent -of incoherent words from the young baronet, and with murmurs from the -rest of the men, the ladies in the room, who had most of them drawn -away from the crowd of angry men, and gathered in a knot in a corner, -whispered to each other and made towards the door. - -Harry Van Santen, who perceived this movement, hastened to open the -door, saying in a low voice to the most important lady of the group-- - -“Yes, that’s right. This is no scene for you ladies. The fellow’s -drunk.” - -He shut the door when they had all gone out, and returned to the -card-table, where three or four of the men were now with difficulty -holding Sir William back from a personal assault upon Denver whose -calmly contemptuous attitude and tone were irritating him to madness. - -The uproar continued, and indeed grew worse, as excited partisans on -either side tried to outshout the rest. - -In the midst of the noise and the turbulent movements of the crowd -of men a figure flitted lightly past Gerard, followed immediately -by another; and Delia and Miss Davison, the former leading, the -other following close behind, made their way into the group with the -authority born of combined intelligence and experience, and at once -found a hearing. - -“Gentlemen,” said Delia, “this scene is very distressing, and not -one of you can make himself heard or understood if you all speak at -once. Will you separate for a time, and all think calmly over what has -happened--or has not happened--and then come together to discuss the -matter like reasonable persons? If not for your own sakes, I think you -will do so for my mother’s and for ours, will you not?” - -Manner, voice, tone, all were perfect, and one after another the men -fell back, acknowledging the justice of her speech, and willing to obey -her suggestion. - -Sir William alone of the visitors was obdurate. While Denver merely -retreated a few steps, and then threw himself with an air of insolent -defiance on a sofa, the baronet maintained his position in the middle -of the room, and poured forth his woes as incoherently and volubly as -ever. - -He paid no heed to Delia, who looked at Miss Davison with a little -gesture of despair. - -Then Rachel came up to Sir William, and laying her hand on his sleeve, -said gently-- - -“Don’t you think, Sir William, you had better talk this over quietly -with someone--with me, if you like? And I will listen to all you have -to say, and will do anything I can to put the matter right.” - -“You can’t put it right. I beg your pardon, Miss Davison, but really -this isn’t a thing I can discuss with a lady. I’ve been che--” - -“Oh, hush, hush! Think what you’re saying.” - -“I’ve been cheated, I say. I’m sorry to have had to make a disturbance, -but it doesn’t alter the fact that--” - -“For the sake of the ladies of the family, won’t you be reasonable? -Wait a little; calm down a little, and then hear what there is to be -said on the other side.” - -“There’s nothing to be said, Miss Davison, nothing, that is to say, -that I could listen to or believe. You must really excuse me. It’s with -the men of the family that I have to deal. Or at least with the fellow -Denver. But I suppose it’s six of one and half a dozen of the other, -and that while one cheats at poker, the other does at bridge!” - -Under the influence of the lady’s gentle talk, Sir William had grown, -not only too coherent, but so definite and precise in his accusations, -so sweeping in his charges, that every ear was strained to catch what -he said, and Denver, lounging on the sofa, grew perceptibly redder as -he was forced to listen too. - -But Miss Davison, determined to end this painful scene in her own way, -took the young baronet’s arm, almost as if she had been taking him -into custody, and insisted on his leading her--or more properly being -led by her--into the adjoining room, where Mrs. Van Santen, still the -picture of woe, was sitting in her high-backed chair, and receiving the -condolences of one or two of the ladies, while the others went into the -music-room, with the exception of Lady Sylvia, who, much disgusted at -the scene she had been forced to witness, had ordered her car round and -taken her departure. - -“Say something nice to the old lady, do, Sir William,” pleaded Rachel -coaxingly in his ear. - -“How can I say anything nice to her, when I know her son is a card--” - -Miss Davison would not let him finish. - -“You know nothing certainly,” she broke in quickly. “You suspect, but -that’s not enough. Do pray remember what you owe to all of us, and -whatever you may think or fancy, keep your suspicions to yourself until -you can talk things over quietly with another man.” - -“But I’m certain--” began he again. - -“Well, tell what you think to--to--let me see--Mr. Buckland and Mr. -Aldington. They saw everything. Let them judge.” - -“Excuse me, they saw nothing,” persisted Sir William, who was now -speaking more quietly, but who was not in the least disposed to waver -in his statement as to what he had seen. “I don’t think they were even -in the room till the row had begun.” - -She was leading him gently across the middle room, deeming it more -prudent not to let him speak to Mrs. Van Santen in his obvious state -of irritation. She made him take her, therefore, into the music-room, -where Cora and Arthur were conversing near the piano, and where two -or three other small knots of people were discussing the distressing -affair in low voices. - -Gerard was sitting by himself not far from the piano, and Delia had -come in to do her usual work of smoothing things over in any direction -where she saw that her services would be useful. Miss Davison made -straight for Gerard. - -“Do, Mr. Buckland,” said she, bending down to speak pleadingly, and -meanwhile looking at him with steady eyes eloquent of her anxiety, -“speak to Sir William, and try to persuade him to make some sort of -apology, to believe that he has made a mistake, a great and dreadful -mistake. I don’t want him to leave the house until he’s been brought to -listen to reason,” she added earnestly, speaking quickly, and in such a -low voice that only Gerard heard her. - -For he had started to his feet at her first words, and was standing on -one side of her, while Sir William, still angry and stiff, was on the -other. - -Gerard felt himself to be in a very difficult position. Of course he -believed implicitly that the baronet was right, that he had suddenly -found out the meaning of the constant and heavy losses at cards which -he had sustained when playing with the young Van Santens. It was -horrible to find Rachel taking the part of these men, whom he now -looked upon as little better than swindlers, knowing, as he did, that -she must be perfectly well aware of what had been going on. - -And yet he did not like to refuse her request, especially as, even if -his suspicions and those of Sir William were correct, the baronet had -now had his lesson, and it was most desirable on all accounts to avoid -a scandal. - -So, after a moment’s hesitation, he said, “All right. I’ll do what I -can,” and thrusting his hand through the young baronet’s arm, he led -him into the conservatory which opened from this room, and asked him to -tell him all about it. - -Briefly and clearly--for he had now had time to collect his -thoughts--Sir William explained exactly what he had seen, and his -reasons for believing that he had been robbed. - -Gerard listened attentively and without interruption, and was quite -sure that the young baronet was correct in his surmise, and that -Denver, having robbed him persistently and with ease, had at last grown -careless, and manipulating the cards without so much skill as usual, -had been found out. - -“There,” said Sir William, when he had finished his recital, “that’s -what I saw; and whatever you tell me, I shall think the same, that I’ve -been cheated, and that to-night is probably not the first time.” - -Gerard did not at once reply. Cora and Arthur Aldington were observing -them, and he saw the girl whisper something to Arthur, in response to -which he nodded, and leaving her, strolled over to join the two young -men. - -“I hope you’ve changed your mind about what you fancied you saw,” said -he to Sir William, who laughed dryly and shook his head. - -“Oh, no, I haven’t,” he said. “These Yankees have had me for a mug; and -I’ve no doubt, as I’ve just been saying to Buckland, that what I found -out to-night was really only the end of what had been going on for some -time, in fact ever since I was fool enough to come here first.” - -Arthur looked angry. - -“Really, Gurdon, I think you ought to measure your words a little more -carefully,” he said stiffly. “We are friends of these people, Buckland -and I, and we can’t allow such things to be said uncontradicted, can -we?” - -Gerard shook his head. - -“You see, Sir William, it’s impossible for you to be quite sure on such -a point. It would need some confirmation--” - -“Confirmation! Do you doubt my word?” - -“Of course not. What I do doubt is whether we ought to be sure without -proof stronger than the eyes of one person. No, no, don’t get angry -again. I mean that, supposing I had seen what you saw, and believed -what you believed, I should have thought twice about bringing such a -grave--such an awful accusation--in a room full of ladies--and should -have waited to discuss quietly with some other fellows what was the -best thing to be done.” - -Sir William reddened. He himself had by this time begun to feel -considerable regret that he had been so rashly outspoken. - -“It’s all very well,” he grumbled, “to give advice like that; but I -tell you, when you suddenly make a discovery like that--when you’re -absolutely sure, mind you, as I was and am--you forget all rules of -prudence, even perhaps of propriety, and you go for the swindler there -and then.” - -“Sh--sh,” said Gerard. - -Arthur reddened. - -“Come, I say, Gurdon, you shouldn’t say things like that without a lot -more proof than you’ve got, that things are not on the square,” said -he, with excitement. - -“By Jove! What better proof can a man have than the evidence of his own -eyes?” asked Sir William. “I’m convinced, as I tell you, that I’ve been -deliberately robbed. And the only reason why I’m allowing myself to be -persuaded to sit here quietly and to let things simmer down, instead -of leaving the house at once, is that the thing is too flagrant to be -passed over, and that I intend to give information about it to the -police.” - -Both his hearers protested at once, incoherently, in a low voice. - -“Nonsense,” said Arthur. “How on earth can you bring disgrace upon -the ladies by doing such a thing as that? How can you, after being -hospitably received by Mrs. Van Santen, give information against one of -her sons? It’s impossible.” - -“I’m going to do it, though,” said Sir William, with ominous -tranquillity. “If I were not absolutely certain of what I saw, I need -not tell you I would never do such a thing. As it is, I’m convinced -I was only what you call hospitably received for the purpose of being -plundered; and, as I say, I’m not going to put up with it quietly. -I’m going to give information to the police. If there’s nothing in -my charge, it will be all right, of course. They will listen to me -quietly, and no more will be heard of it. But if, on the other hand, -the information I give chimes in with anything they know, or may know -in the future, about these people, then my evidence may prove useful, -and I shouldn’t hesitate to give it.” - -He was so quietly determined that Gerard looked upon it as a hopeless -task to try to dissuade him from his purpose. Indeed, he was not sorry -to hear his intention. If the Van Santens were swindlers, it was time -they were brought to justice. And if, unhappily, Miss Davison were -mixed up with them, there was ample time to warn her of what was in -store for the family. - -Arthur, however, could not take it so quietly. He was indignant at -the aspersions cast upon the Americans, and poured forth an eloquent -tribute to their charms, pointing out that he too had lost money at -cards there, but that he did not shriek out that he had been robbed, -but ascribed his losses to his own chuckleheadedness in playing with -people who openly said that they played a better game than he did. - -All such sneers as these, however, were lost upon Sir William. And to -Arthur’s reminder that he would be making things very unpleasant for -the ladies who were among the visitors at the Priory, the baronet was -equally deaf. Indeed, he took this suggestion as the text for another -sermon. - -“By the by,” he said to Gerard, “have you ever noticed that, although -the Van Santens get plenty of visitors, you never meet any of their own -countrymen here?” - -Gerard himself had noticed the fact, and said so, adding, however, that -he believed it was usual with Americans to invite English people of -rank, whenever they could get them, in preference to their own people. - -Sir William, however, persisted in seeing a sinister significance in -everything that concerned the Van Santens, and he turned to communicate -his doubts to another man, while Arthur, full of indignation, went back -to Cora, and bursting with anger, most indiscreetly let out the fact -that Sir William was going to complain about his supposed grievance to -the police. - -Cora turned very pale, and uttered a little scream of horror. - -“Then you may tell Sir William from me that he’s not a gentleman,” -she said, with flashing eyes. “Whatever he may think of himself and -his title, he’s just the meanest thing that breathes! When he’s been -received here so well, and has had such a good time! Oh, what will my -mother say? I must go and tell her!” - -“I shouldn’t, if I were you, at least till the people are gone,” said -Arthur persuasively. “Remember, he can’t do you any harm. He can give -as much information as he likes; no notice will be taken of it, and he -will merely be informed that observation shall be kept upon the house.” - -But the words inflamed Cora’s wrath still more. - -“Observation kept upon our house!” she said indignantly. “Where people -of rank come every day! No, indeed, the police shall do nothing of -the sort. Let the fellow dare to bring an honest, open charge against -my brothers, and then see what evidence we shall bring on our side! -Observation indeed!” - -And she left him, and ran, shaking with indignation, into the next -room, where she took Mrs. Van Santen aside, and poured into her ears -the story of Sir William’s cowardly attacks and threats. - -The old lady, in great alarm, called for Delia and Miss Davison, and -hurriedly consulted them as to what was to be done. She was in a state -of the greatest anxiety, but showed more quiet good sense than might -have been expected from one so simple in the world’s ways. - -“Isn’t one of you two girls clever enough,” she said, “to talk to this -young man and show him that he’s behaving as badly as a man can? What -have we done that he should insult us like this? Even if Denver had -not played fair--which we all know is ridiculous--it would be worse -behavior in this young man to insult us all as he wants to do, than it -would have been of Denver to do what he says he believed he saw him do.” - -“He must be stopped,” said Delia firmly. “He must be made to see he’s -making an ass of himself. We can’t have a scandal made about us, and -all our English friends offended and made to stay away.” - -She was addressing Rachel, whose face was very grave. - -“Of course,” said Miss Davison, “it doesn’t much matter if he does -behave as he suggests. Everybody knows you and knows the sort of -society you receive.” - -“And that you, who have lots of friends in the best society, actually -stay with us,” added Delia. - -Miss Davison assented. - -“I really don’t think you need distress yourself about this silly lad,” -she said. “He would harm no one but himself if he were to go to a -police-station and tell his absurd tale. He has already made half the -people here think him mad, and I’m going to tell him so.” - -She swept across the floor and entered the music-room, where the -baronet was talking in a low voice, but with great excitement, to -two or three other men who had been witnesses of the scene at the -card-table. - -She broke into the group and called him aside, and, in a voice which -was audible all over the room, protested strongly and energetically -against his behavior. - -“I should have thought,” she said, with a haughty movement of her -handsome head, “that, if you had been undeterred by any other -consideration, the knowledge that I, a friend of so many of your own -friends, have been staying with the Van Santens, would have been enough -to convince you that such a thing as you imagine could not occur here.” - -But the young man, who had appeared so good-humored and so easy to -manage on previous occasions, was now as firm and as stubborn as he had -before been gentle. - -“It is because you, a young lady of known position and a friend of -so many others of position, have stayed with these people and made a -friend of them, that I and my friends have taken them up,” he retorted -shortly. “It makes them all the more dangerous that they’ve succeeded -in hoodwinking a lady as clever as you are.” - -The word caused a movement of astonishment at his tenacity, in the -group of men who were within hearing. - -“Really, Sir William, you talk as if you were in a den of thieves!” -said Miss Davison haughtily. - -“Really, Miss Davison, I am inclined to think that I am,” retorted the -baronet, as he bowed and withdrew into the next room. - -Rachel was left standing, pale, indignant, frightened, in the middle -of the music-room. The other men who had heard something of this -short passage of arms, came round her, apologizing for Sir William, -expressing the opinion that he had had too much champagne, and that -there was no other explanation of his conduct than that, or a sudden -attack of insanity. - -Miss Davison received these remarks graciously, again expressing her -astonishment that Sir William could make himself so ridiculous. - -Before she had finished speaking, the group was added to by two or -three more persons, one of whom was Gerard Buckland. With him she -presently walked away towards the conservatory, and when they were out -of hearing of the rest, she said in a low voice-- - -“If you can’t succeed in persuading Sir William not to carry out his -absurd intention, but to declare--before he leaves the house that he -has given it up, I advise you to look after him, Mr. Buckland.” - -“To look after him! What do you mean?” - -She raised her eyelids slowly, and looked at him with a strange, -arresting steadiness. - -“Oh, I only mean, of course, that since it’s plain that he is scarcely -in his right senses, he ought to be--_closely watched_.” - - - - -CHAPTER XX - - -Gerard stood still in a state approaching stupefaction as Miss Davison, -having given him this extraordinary warning, turned quickly away. - -He did not know whether she was speaking in the interest of Sir William -Gurdon or in that of the Van Santens, but after a little reflection he -decided that he had better profit by her words, at least to the extent -of ascertaining exactly what the young baronet was going to do, and how -he fared in doing it. - -Gerard had, on this occasion, come down by train by himself, instead of -in Arthur Aldington’s car. Full of his resolution, and confirmed in it -by Miss Davison’s manner when he said good-bye, he went down the drive -by himself, and then waited outside the gates for the coming of Sir -William’s motor-car. - -Sir William came out a few minutes later, driving his car himself, as -usual. Perceiving Gerard, he stopped, and apparently anxious to have -someone to confide his grievances to once more, he asked him, as Gerard -had expected and hoped, whether he should give him a lift back to town. - -Gerard thanked him and took the seat beside Sir William, while the -chauffeur got inside the car. As Gerard expected, the baronet broke out -into fresh denunciation of the Van Santens without delay. - -“I don’t believe the one of them is any better than the other, and I -shouldn’t be surprised to hear that they’ve been warned out of New -York. I’m going to make some inquiries about them,” he said. - -“Do they know that?” asked Gerard. - -“I daresay they do by this time. I’ve made no secret of it since I -found out I’d been cheated,” said the baronet angrily. - -“Why didn’t you keep your plans to yourself? If you’re wrong, it’s -rough upon them, but especially upon the ladies of the family, whom you -surely don’t implicate in their brothers’ malpractices--if they are -malpractices.” - -“I’m not wrong, I can’t be wrong. And as for the ladies, I don’t accuse -them of having anything to do with their brothers’ tricks, of course, -but one can’t consider those points when one is dealing with rogues. -And if you mean Miss Davison, I can only say I’m surprised to find her -in such dubious company.” - -Now Gerard, unfortunately, had been too much used to seeing Rachel in -similar circumstances to be deeply offended by the suggestion. But, -doubtful as he felt concerning the circumstances which had made her -such an intimate friend of the Americans, he was bent on saving her -from the punishment which he knew that they deserved, and which he -hoped that she would contrive to escape. - -“Well, if you’re right, you can’t be too cautious in the way you go to -work to bring them to book. You had far better make inquiries yourself -than at once put the matter into other hands,” he suggested. - -The baronet shrugged his shoulders. Although he passed for “a bit of a -fool,” he was very tenacious of his purpose when once he had made up -his mind upon any point, and he had thoroughly resolved upon the course -he meant to adopt now. So he said nothing in answer to this, and before -Gerard had decided what to say next, they were both startled by an -explosion, followed by another, and the next moment the tire of one of -the back wheels of the motor-car had burst, and the car itself was on -its side in the ditch by the side of the road. - -Sir William was shot right over the wheel and into the hedge on the -other side of the ditch, while Gerard was flung over the wind screen -into the ditch itself. - -A minute later he had scrambled out, unhurt but plastered with mud, and -was standing, with the chauffeur by his side, looking at the wrecked -car, while Sir William, who had regained his feet and was on the other -side of the hedge in a stubble-field, was expressing his indignation -and annoyance, and, as might have been expected, ascribing the accident -to the agency of the Van Santens. - -“This is no accident,” he said, as he stood, livid with rage, on -the bank, when he had scrambled through the hedge and had joined the -other two. “The back tires were perfectly sound when I left town this -afternoon. They’ve been tampered with by those fellows at the Priory.” - -To Gerard this fresh accusation seemed far-fetched and absurd for the -first moment; but when the chauffeur joined his assurances to those -of his master, that the tires had been in perfect order, and moreover -that he had seen one of the gentlemen examining the car, and when, upon -inquiry, it turned out that the gentleman in question was Denver Van -Santen, even Gerard began to think there might have been some foul play. - -After a short discussion it was decided that the chauffeur should -remain with the car, and that the two gentlemen should walk on to the -nearest town, which was some two miles away, and make arrangements both -for the digging out of the car and for continuing their journey by rail. - -As they walked along, for the most part in silence, along the road, -which was shaded by a row of trees on one side, Gerard fancied he heard -footsteps on the other side of the hedge. In the state of nervous -excitement and suspicion into which he and his companion had both been -thrown by the occurrences of the evening, this incident seemed strange -to Gerard, who imparted his belief that they were being shadowed to Sir -William. Keeping his voice low he suggested that they should make a -dash for the hedge together at the point where he thought he had heard -the footsteps last. - -The other agreeing, the two young men made a rush for the hedge, -climbed up the bank with rapid steps, and scrambled through the briars -just in time to see a figure disappearing into a plantation near at -hand. At the suggestion of the baronet, they went in pursuit, and got -so close to the quarry that a few more strides would have brought them -up to him, when suddenly he made a plunge forward, and disappeared from -their sight among the trees of the little wood. - -Sir William would have made another dash to secure him, but Gerard held -him back. - -“Take care!” he whispered. “Did you see what he had in his hand?” - -Sir William drew back with a low cry. - -“No,” he whispered back, “but I saw who he was!” - -The two men exchanged looks, and then, with one accord, they dropped -the pursuit and regained the road as quickly as possible. - -Not until they were a long way from the plantation did they stop and -exchange their thoughts. - -“He carried a revolver,” whispered Gerard. - -“It was Harry Van Santen,” said Sir William. - -After that, both men walked on faster, and said little, until they had -reached a part of the road so open that there was no further need of -caution. - -Gerard by this time fully appreciated the value of Miss Davison’s -warning. She had guessed that some attempt would be made upon the -revengeful baronet, and had done her best for him by her quietly -dropped word. - -“Now,” said Gerard, when they could talk more freely, “you will -understand the need of caution in dealing with these people. If you had -been alone--” - -Sir William nodded. - -“It would have been all up with me by this time,” he added grimly. -“Well, you were right, Buckland, one can’t be too careful in dealing -with these people.” - -“Will you take my advice _now_,” said Gerard earnestly, “and give up -all idea of going to the police openly? Write to the Van Santens, -say you’ve had a talk with me, and that you are convinced you made a -mistake, and that you are ready to apologize! Tell them that we had an -adventure to-night, that we came across a poacher, and nearly got up -with him, that he took us for keepers and ran with all his might.” - -The baronet looked at him quickly. - -“Will they believe that?” he asked. - -“It doesn’t matter if they don’t,” said Gerard. “I want them to think -that you’ve been frightened into holding your tongue. I want you -to keep clear of police-stations to-night, as we shall probably be -shadowed. And I suggest that you should communicate with the police, -if you mean to do so, by letter only. And give a warning that, if a -policeman is sent to see you, he must be in plain clothes.” - -Sir William, now thoroughly alarmed, agreed to all these suggestions -without demur, and following the directions given him, took care not to -go near a police-station that night. - -Two days later, after having remained indoors all the time, he wrote to -Gerard to tell him to keep away from the Priory, as he had communicated -with the police, and a detective was to be among the guests on the -following Sunday. He said that he had written an apology to Mrs. Van -Santen, and “made it all right with them.” And he ended by a hope that -Gerard would find some means to induce Miss Davison to break off her -connection with these dubious people, at least until the police had -satisfied themselves about them. - -Now Gerard dared not write to Miss Davison, for fear of his letter -falling into other hands than hers. All he could do, therefore, was -to go down to the Priory on the following Sunday, in the hope that he -might be able to warn her to get away in time to prevent her being -involved in the catastrophe which was bound to come. - -He was very nervous as he approached the Priory, having come by train, -as on the last occasion. He wondered whether Harry Van Santen knew -that he had been recognized, and whether he would find marked changes -to have taken place in the conduct of the establishment since the -sensational charges brought against it on the previous Sunday. - -Rather to his surprise, he found everything as usual there. Not even -the ladies, who had been the most frequent among the guests, appeared -to have been frightened away. For on entering the drawing-room where -they were all assembled after luncheon, he at once recognized two or -three faces of ladies who had been there the Sunday before. - -If possible, the gayety, which was a feature of the place, was greater -than ever. The Van Santens all greeted him exactly as if nothing had -happened, with the exception of Mrs. Van Santen, who said to him -triumphantly, when he shook hands with her-- - -“Ah, Mr. Buckland, I’m very pleased to see you again. Have you heard -that your friend Sir William Gurdon has written a long and most -handsome apology for the way he behaved last Sunday? I got it on -Tuesday last, and I at once sent a copy of it to all the ladies and -gentlemen who were here when he made that ill-mannered outbreak. I -couldn’t send you one, because I didn’t know your address. But I’ll -show you the letter itself presently.” - -Gerard congratulated her as well as he could, and in the meantime his -eyes roamed about in search of two people: Miss Davison for one; the -detective who was to be among the guests this day, for the other. - -Miss Davison he soon discovered. She was the only person there who -appeared to be in the least changed since the previous Sunday. Pale she -always was, but now she was ghastly; while the dark rings under her -eyes told an eloquent tale of sleepless nights, and a peculiar haggard -look about the outline of her face betrayed to his eyes, keen where she -was concerned, the fact that she had been rendered uneasy and unhappy -by the occurrences of the momentous day. - -He did not at once approach her: he was particularly anxious not to -seem in a great hurry to speak to her alone, and besides, he felt very -diffident as to her reception of the news he had for her. - -Would she take the warning quietly and disappear in time to escape -the general disaster? Or would she betray him, and make use of the -information he had for her in the interests of the Van Santens? - -Gerard could not make up his mind on this point; and he was in a state -of great distress as to whether he was about to render her a great -service or to render one to the American swindlers whom he dreaded to -find were her accomplices. - -But everything must be risked for her sake. In the meantime he looked -carefully about him, in the hope of discovering among those of the -guests whom he did not know the detective who was to be there on the -information of Sir William. - -The task was an easy one. There was only one strange face there, -that of a man with a heavy black mustache who was, Gerard thought, -unmistakably a police officer in disguise. - -This fact ascertained, he lost no time in approaching Miss Davison, -and, after the first greetings, said to her in a low voice-- - -“Don’t look shocked, I beg. I have to warn you that there is a police -detective here to-day. Don’t ask me how I know; but you may depend upon -its being the truth.” - -Miss Davison bowed her head in grave silence. - -“I was sure of it!” she said in a low voice. - - - - -CHAPTER XXI - - -Then for a few moments there was silence. The words Miss Davison -had uttered so hastily, in response to his warning that there was a -detective present, Gerard could not but look upon as an admission. - -If all had been right at the Priory, why should she have expected to -see there an agent of the police? - -She seemed to see that her words were a mistake, for presently she -laughed without much merriment, and said, looking at him with a -steady gaze which had in it something of what he felt to be unmerited -reproach-- - -“And so your friend Sir William thinks he had better be on the safe -side. That is what you call hedging, isn’t it, in racing matters? He -writes a letter of humble apology for his rudeness to Mrs. Van Santen, -and at the same time takes care to expose her--and us all, to the -ignominy of having a detective introduced to the house to watch us and -to see that we do not cheat at cards?” - -Gerard met her gaze steadily. - -“In the circumstances, I don’t think he is to be blamed, Miss Davison. -I think, on the contrary, that his conduct is more excusable than mine. -For as, whether he was cheated or no, he undoubtedly believed that he -was, he may have thought himself at liberty to use all possible means -of getting proof of the fact. I, on the other hand, while believing -that he was cheated, and that other people have been cheated here, -have warned you of the fact that the house is sheltering a detective, -although I am afraid you may make use of my warning to put these -thieves on their guard.” - -Miss Davison heard him with a set white face, but without any -interruption. They were standing together in the veranda, for, late -as the season was, the afternoon was so fine that the French windows -were open, and the guests of the Van Santens were strolling in and out, -between the house and the grounds. - -After a short pause she laughed again in the same hard, forced way as -before. - -“If you think I am likely to put thieves on their guard against the -possibility of detection, you must believe that I am a friend, not to -say an accomplice, of thieves myself?” she said quietly, at last. - -Gerard shook his head, but hesitated what to reply. - -At last he said: “I can’t deny that I believe your friends are not -always well chosen. I have had proof of it before.” - -“Don’t you think that, if you were wise, you would leave to her fate -a woman who had so many questionable friends, and whom you could not -depend upon from one moment to another?” - -Gerard took up her challenge with sudden fire. - -“Yes,” he said, “I do think I should be wiser if I could do as you -suggest; but, unluckily for me, I can’t. For, good or ill, Rachel, -I love you so much that I can’t believe the evidence of my own eyes -when you are in question. So that I am behaving like an imbecile, and -persisting in refusing to believe anything but good of you, even though -I am forced to believe very much that is not good of your friends and -acquaintances.” - -As usual when he made a speech like this, owning his steady interest in -her, Miss Davison’s face broke up into softness and gentleness, thus -riveting his chains, even while she would give him no hope that she was -innocent of the things of which he thus by implication accused her. - -For a moment he thought she was on the point of bursting into tears. -But she exercised strong self-control, and carefully abstaining from -again meeting his eyes, knowing what sort of look she should meet if -she did, she turned her head languidly in the direction of the interior -of the house, and said-- - -“But you mustn’t expect me to do anything but take their part, you -know. Whatever may be thought, or fancied, or suspected of them by -other people, I always stand by my own side, even assisting them to the -utmost of my power.” - -“You mean,” whispered Gerard desperately, “that you will warn the Van -Santens that there is a detective here?” - -She turned upon him sharply. - -“Indeed I shall do nothing of the kind; there’s no need. Your friend -has behaved absurdly, and what he has done doesn’t make the least -difference. How should we mind who sees us, since we have nothing to -hide?” - -“I wish you would not associate yourself with these Americans,” said -Gerard irritably. “I know very well that you have nothing to hide, but -I believe that the case is different with them. If you believe in them -really, honestly believe in them and trust them to deal honorably, as -you say you do, I want you to give me an understanding, a promise.” - -“Well, what is it?” - -“Will you promise--swear--that you will not tell the Van Santens what I -have just told you?” - -She at once said, in a low voice, but firmly and resolutely-- - -“I swear that I will not tell anyone here what you have just told -me--about the presence of a detective.” - -Gerard was surprised at this readiness to give her oath, and indeed his -doubts made him shudder. Was she perjuring herself? He had had so many -doubts of her before, that he ought not to have felt so strongly about -this fresh one. But yet he shuddered again at the thought that she -could be committing a crime, just as he had done before. - -Anxious to avoid the thought that she had sworn with no intention of -keeping her oath, he asked himself whether her telling them would be -useless, and they perhaps knew already the news he had imparted to -her. There was another short pause, and then Miss Davison said to him -quickly, as she put her hand on the window, as if to go indoors-- - -“There’s one warning I ought to give you. As I have told you, it -doesn’t matter a bit who is present, because there is nothing to find -out, and the play to-day will be just as it has always been. But if you -want to prevent an unpleasant scene, you had better keep the warning -you have given me to yourself, and not tell Arthur Aldington.” - -“Why not?” - -“Because if you do, he will tell Cora Van Santen, and she will be -indignant, and will certainly speak her mind openly about it, and there -will be an explosion of wrath, and explanations, and inquiries, and the -party will be broken up, and perhaps the detective himself found out, -exposed, and thrown out of the house, and a fresh scandal will be made, -just as we have got rid of the old one.” - -Gerard thought this very good advice, though he was surprised that she -should give it. He readily agreed not to say anything to Arthur about -the presence of the detective, and went indoors with her just in time -to see the arrival of a batch of visitors, among whom he saw the man -Cecil Jones, whom he believed to be a decoy of the Van Santens. - -This belief was strengthened when he found that Jones was in a jubilant -and boastful mood, and that he was telling the other visitors that he -had come prepared to beat Denver Van Santen at poker, having provided -himself with money enough to bluff him to any extent he liked. - -It seemed to Gerard that no man would have talked like this, doing his -best to invite the attentions of the spoiler, after the scene of the -preceding Sunday, which must certainly have been talked about by all -the habitues of the Priory, unless he was an absolute fool. And in -spite of his sheepish looks and gentle manners, Gerard had reason to -believe that Cecil Jones was by no means so silly as he looked. - -Miss Davison was not the woman to have foolish friends; and that Cecil -Jones was the friend he had seen her with on more than one occasion -previous to his visits to the Priory he was quite sure. - -Gerard decided, therefore, that Jones, in his character of decoy to the -rest of the pigeons whom the Van Santens plucked, had been allotted -this rôle of careless and wealthy spendthrift in order to prove that, -in spite of the scene of the preceding Sunday, the confidence of the -visitors in the integrity of the Americans was as great as ever. - -Gerard was annoyed at this scheme and he took care to show Cecil Jones -that he did not believe in his bluff. - -“You were not here last Sunday, I think?” he said dryly; “but no doubt -you heard what took place here?” - -“I did hear about it, of course,” said Jones, raising his voice, so -that he could be heard by the rest of the people in the music-room, -where they were standing; “but I shouldn’t think of taking the word of -a man like Sir William Gurdon against that of people I know and like.” - -“Why not?” - -“Well, everyone knows what he is, a fellow who is getting through his -money as fast as he can, and who is as careless with his tongue as he -is with his cash,” replied Jones. “I suppose you think,” he went on -rather aggressively, “that, after last Sunday, nobody ought to play -anything but bagatelle and dominoes with the Van Santens. You look upon -me as a fool to risk my money?” - -“Oh no, I don’t,” said Gerard quietly; “because I know you won’t risk -much.” - -Although Gerard took care to keep his voice as low as that of Jones was -loud, Cora and Arthur, who were, as usual, at the piano together, were -so intently interested in the discussion that they contrived to hear -these words, and they exchanged looks. - -Cora was flushed and angry. She rose from her seat at the piano and -said quickly-- - -“Why did you come here to-day, Mr. Buckland, if you believed the -infamous things Sir William Gurdon said, things, by the way, that he -has apologized most humbly for?” - -“I don’t think I could have given a better proof that I took the -right side in the argument than by appearing here to-day, Miss Cora,” -retorted Gerard diplomatically. - -Even while he spoke to her, he had his eye on Cecil Jones, who had at -once profited by Gerard’s turning away to follow Miss Davison into the -adjoining room. - -Cora being perforce content with this neat reply, Gerard managed to -escape, and went into the middle room, where Mrs. Van Santen was -pouring out tea. He thought what a strange contrast she made, in her -simple gown, her black mittens, and the old-fashioned brooch and hair -bracelets which she persisted in wearing, with the elegantly gowned -daughters whose taste in dress excited the admiration of the men -visitors, and the envy of the women. - -Her quiet, old-fashioned, almost abrupt manner, too, was a relief after -the artificiality of some of the other visitors, and Gerard wondered -how she had managed so soon to get over the terrible shock of the -preceding Sunday. He would have thought, knowing the simplicity of the -old lady, that the bare suggestion of anything unfair in connection -with her household would have been enough to make her shut up the -house, and return in dudgeon to America with her daughters. - -But she seemed to be in the same mood of placid good spirits as usual; -and he supposed that her sons had known how, by getting hold of her by -her weak side, to smooth over the trouble, and to persuade her that the -unpleasant affair was only a passing cloud, such as would never darken -their atmosphere again. - -Close beside her he found, among others, Cecil Jones and Miss Davison. -He could see that, although they said little to each other, there was -some secret understanding between the two, and he was maddened at -the thought that she had already broken her oath, and that she was -using Jones as a go-between to carry to the Van Santens her knowledge -that there would be a detective in the house that day to watch their -proceedings. - -Gerard would fain have believed such an artful evasion of her oath -impossible to Miss Davison, but in the face of all that he suspected -this was scarcely credible. - -But even at that moment the thought which troubled him the most was -that Rachel cared for Cecil Jones, that he was more than an accomplice, -more than a friend, that he was her confidant, and her lover. - -Nay, the thought darted into his mind with a most poignant rush that -perhaps he might be her husband, and that, if not, he was probably -already her fiancé. - -On that point he thought that she might perhaps be more candid than -upon the other, if taxed, and at the first opportunity he followed her -into the corner of the room where she had seated herself, in sight of -the nearest card-table in the end room, on the one hand, and of the -figure of Cora seated at the piano, on the other. - -There was a seat near her, and he stood with one knee on it, as he bent -down and asked-- - -“Will you answer me a question truly, honestly, Rachel, a question -about yourself--and--someone else?” - -“I can’t promise,” said she, in a low voice, with, as he thought, a -quick, self-conscious glance towards Cecil Jones. - -From the adjoining room, where Denver and some other men were playing -cards, came a reminder, in Denver’s voice, of the other man of whom -he had been jealous, but whose chances Gerard now rejected, as he -could not believe that Miss Davison could have given her heart to a -card-sharper, who was also something worse. - -“I want to know whether this Jones is engaged to you?” - -A faint smile passed over her face, one of those flitting, quickly -fading ripples of gentle merriment which were characteristic of her. - -“Why,” she said, “how many more people are you going to marry me to, -Mr. Buckland? There was Denver Van Santen--and now--” - -He interrupted her with rash eagerness. - -“Denver Van Santen! No. Even if you could care for a card-sharper, -which I own might be possible, you could not, I’m sure, care for a -murderer!” - -Miss Davison, who was leaning back carelessly in her chair, sat up, -looking deadly pale. With a commanding air, she made him sit down -beside her. - -“What do you mean?” she asked, fixing him with a gaze which seemed to -penetrate to his very soul. It was evident that, however she might try -to hide the fact, she was thrown by his words into a state of keenest -tension. - -His jealousy grew as he watched the change in her. Did she really care -for this man, then, and was the tie which bound her to Cecil Jones one -of business interests only? - -“I mean,” said he, lowering his voice, so that no one else should hear -a whisper of the momentous words he had to utter, “that Denver Van -Santen was the cause of the accident to Sir William’s car last week, -and that he shadowed us with a revolver, with what object, unless he -meant to rid himself of a person whom he looked upon as dangerous, I -can’t imagine.” - -Miss Davison tried to laugh, but that resource she had used too often -that afternoon and her voice sounded hard and her mirth artificial. - -“How absurd!” she cried. “Can anything be more preposterous than to -accuse a person on such flimsy grounds? for of course you only suppose -that you saw Denver, and Sir William only supposes it also.” - -He saw, however, in her eyes, as she uttered the words, that she -felt by no means so certain as she pretended to be of the childlike -innocence of the young poker-player. - -“We do more than suppose,” he said quietly; “we are both quite sure of -what we saw.” - -She was silent for a moment. Then her eyes stole a stealthy glance at -the card-playing party in the next room. Gerard watched her, and said-- - -“I have told you why I don’t believe you can care for Denver Van -Santen. I want to know whether you care for the other fellow.” - -She turned to him with a scoffing air. - -“How on earth can it matter to you for whom I care, Mr. Buckland, when -you look upon me as an accomplice of card-sharpers?” she asked lightly. - -“I don’t know why I do care,” he replied desperately, “except that you -are such an enigma that every detail concerning you is of surpassing -interest to me. I don’t understand you. I believe it’s difficult to -understand any woman; but certainly I never believed it until I met -you. But it seems to me that you unite in your own person all the -puzzling attributes of all the women who ever lived. The consequence -is that I adore you at one moment, I hate you the next. One day I -believe that all my suspicions of you are flimsy and groundless, and -that I only want the key to solve the mystery which will show you to -be all I want to believe you; the next day I can see in you only a -malignant enchantress, charming men to their undoing, without heart and -without conscience.” - -“I’ve told you to believe that last description to be true, haven’t I?” - -“But I can’t--I won’t. Rachel, when I spoke to you before about my -feeling for you, you promised to ask to be set free.” - -“And I did ask--as I wrote you--and was refused. Don’t begin the -old argument again. It is of no use. You shouldn’t have come here -to-day--you shouldn’t have come here at all. It is all pain, nothing -but pain and distress that you give yourself and me by coming. Mr. -Buckland, be warned by me. This is not the place where women--or men, -either--are seen at their best. I don’t mean that there is any harm -in what we do, but the atmosphere is not good, not wholesome. Take my -advice: say good-bye to me now, and go back to town, and don’t come -here again. As I’ve told you, my way and yours lie far apart; there is -no advantage in pretending not to know it. Now, will you be good, and -wish me good-bye, and find you have an appointment in town that takes -you back early?” - -The lights had been turned up, and Gerard knew that old Mrs. Van -Santen, from her corner of the room near the tea-table, was watching -him and Miss Davison. These two were sitting close by the curtains -of the wide window, partly hidden by one of them, indeed, though not -sufficiently for the old lady not to be able to see that something very -interesting was the subject of their conversation. - -Gerard felt her eyes upon him, even when he was not looking at her; -and presently, even while he was so much occupied with Rachel, he saw -the old lady beckon Delia to her, and speak to her hurriedly, in a low -voice. - -In the meantime he turned to Miss Davison and answered her question -after a short pause. - -“I won’t distress you by arguing in the old way again,” he said. “But I -can’t take your advice about going back to town immediately, though I -know your counsel is good. I want to see it out.” - -“To see what out?” - -Miss Davison’s eyes were attracted too, by this time, in the direction -of the old lady and Delia. - -Gerard hesitated. - -“Well, shall we say the sequel to last Sunday’s scene?” - -At that Miss Davison remained quite silent for some moments, with her -eyes cast down, and her hands lying immovable in her lap. - -“I don’t understand,” she said at last. - -He had no time to explain before Mrs. Van Santen, rising from her -chair, crossed the room, taking such a course that she came quite close -to the two young people. Gerard therefore, did not speak until he had -watched the old lady go into the card-room, where he saw her standing -close to Denver, without being able to hear whether she spoke to him. - -In the meantime Delia came strolling across to the window, and -rearranged a curtain which had been pulled away from its proper folds -by a chair placed near it. - -It was out of the question, therefore, for Gerard to give Miss Davison -any explanation of his rather momentous words while members of the Van -Santen family were flitting about so close to them. And before Delia -had moved away, Denver Van Santen, quitting the card-table, came up, -and unceremoniously drawing a chair close to Miss Davison, leaned -forward and looked sentimentally into her face. - -“Guess I’m not going to let that fellow have you all to himself this -evening, Miss Davison,” said he. - -And, as Rachel received this speech with an encouraging smile, instead -of snubbing the fellow, as he felt that she ought to do, Gerard -had nothing to do but to withdraw and leave the Yankee in full and -undisputed possession of the field. - - - - -CHAPTER XXII - - -Now although it had seemed to Gerard, when he first arrived at the -Priory that afternoon, that all was as usual there, he had long before -this discovered that this was by no means the case. - -Everything did indeed look as it had looked on his previous visits. The -visitors were quite as numerous, the conversation was quite as lively. -The groups moved about from room to room, listened to the music at one -end of the suite, played cards at the other, and drank tea between the -two, with just the same appearance of having nothing on their minds but -the amusement of the moment. - -The Van Santens, on their side, behaved exactly as they had always -behaved; the young men played bridge and poker, with intervals of -conversation and laughter with those of their guests who did not -care for cards. Cora sang as sweetly as ever, was just as charming -when, instead of singing or playing, she was listening to Arthur’s -impassioned speeches, or lisping out her little crisp sentences by way -of her share in the general conversation. - -Delia, as usual, flitted from group to group, never in the same place -long, and always bringing with her a sense of repose and ease, the -result of the singularly tactful and neat way she had of setting things -right when they were going wrong. - -Mrs. Van Santen, perhaps, showed traces of the emotion which the -unpleasant scene of the preceding Sunday had caused her. She was -sensible enough, dear old soul, not to disturb the general harmony by -any open allusion to the trouble on that occasion, or by any appearance -of anxiety about the present. But she did not look quite so peaceful, -quite so serene, as she had looked before, and Gerard was quite sure -that she was keeping a watchful eye on her card-playing sons, lest any -more disturbances should break the peace of her family and her guests. - -But underneath all this surface appearance of calm and pleasure Gerard -was now conscious that there was a current of anxiety, a subdued -unrest, which infected the whole of the Van Santen family, and had -spread, perhaps without their being fully aware of it, to their guests. - -It was easily explained, of course, by the occurrences of the preceding -Sunday, by the inevitable self-consciousness which they had produced in -everybody; so that the visitors felt impelled to be more sprightly and -more at ease than usual, and the family, on their side, had to keep up -an air of having absolutely forgotten the ill-mannered attack made upon -one of them by the hasty and impetuous Sir William. - -Thus the general atmosphere seemed to be electric, charged with a sort -of vague danger, and conducive to excitement and unrest. - -When Gerard found himself ousted by Denver, he retreated to the -music-room, and there he found Arthur and Cora, no longer at the piano, -but conversing with intense seriousness in a corner of the room. He -had scarcely entered, when Mrs. Van Santen came in, noiselessly, but -wearing a look of unusual excitement in her good old face. She went -straight to Cora, said a few words to her in an undertone, and went -back again into the next room. - -Then Cora spoke to Arthur, and he, after a few minutes’ earnest -conversation with her, sauntered across the room to Gerard. - -“It seems,” he said, “that the Van Santens are rather surprised to see -you here to-day. They had an idea, I think, that you took the part of -Sir William Gurdon against them.” - -By a rapid process of thought, Gerard knew how this idea had arisen in -their minds. He had left the Priory by himself on the preceding Sunday, -and had only met Sir William afterwards. As he had expressed no opinion -favorable to Sir William’s cause previous to that, but as he had, on -the contrary, done his best to persuade the baronet that he had made a -mistake, it was clear that Cora’s idea could not be based on what she -had then seen and heard. - -It was because Denver had followed Sir William, having injured the -tire of his car in order to bring him to a standstill, and because he -had then discovered Gerard in the baronet’s company, and the family -understood him to be on the side of the enemy. - -He was careful, however, to give no hint of what he knew to Arthur when -he was thus accused of siding with the baronet. - -“Surprised to see me, are they?” said he. “Do you mean that they wish -me to withdraw?” - -“No, no, oh no, of course not,” said Arthur hastily. “But they want to -understand how it is that you have changed your mind about that? And -whether you have seen Sir William since?” - -Gerard perceived that Cora had sent her obedient slave, Arthur, to -try to “pump” him as to his position and intentions. It was part of -the general uneasiness that he had noticed that they wanted to know -precisely the attitude taken up by each of their visitors. And Gerard -knew that he was especially under observation, on account of his known -admiration for Miss Davison and Denver’s possible jealousy, as well as -because he was now known to have been the cause of the miscarriage of -Denver’s projected attack upon Sir William. - -Although neither he nor the baronet could have sworn to the identity of -the figure, which had shadowed them and which they had then pursued, -with Denver Van Santen, or of the fact that he had been armed, there -was very little doubt in the minds of either upon those points. - -Knowing that his answer would be faithfully reported, Gerard answered -with caution-- - -“Seen Sir William! Oh yes, I went up to town with him last Sunday. We -started in his car, but had a breakdown and went back by train.” - -“And did you persuade him to think better of his disgraceful conduct?” - -“I persuaded him--or rather, I helped to persuade him--to write an -apology to Mrs. Van Santen.” - -“And you quite see that he made a fool of himself?” - -Gerard hesitated. - -“I don’t think his conduct was very wise,” he admitted at last. - -“Or that he was justified in bringing such an accusation?” - -“I think, if he thought what he did, it would have been better to talk -things over with his own friends before making a scene.” - -This answer was not at all what Arthur wanted. It made him uneasy. - -“Surely you don’t think there was anything in it? I can’t think you -would be here to-day if you had thought there was!” - -“Well, we needn’t discuss that now. It’s a subject we should be bound -to get warm over, whatever we thought, isn’t it?” said he soothingly. - -“It certainly makes me warm to hear a doubt cast upon my friends.” - -“No doubt has been cast on anybody by me,” replied Gerard quickly. “If -they want to know, you can tell them so.” - -Arthur went away, evidently not quite satisfied, and Gerard strolled -through the adjoining room into the card-room at the end of the suite. - -There had been changes in the position of affairs during the short -interval since he left Miss Davison conversing with Denver in the -middle room. - -Rachel herself had disappeared, and he learned from Delia, who, in the -course of her pacifying errands, met him and asked him whether he was -going to play bridge, that she had gone upstairs with a headache. - -This statement was received by Gerard with certain vague suspicions. - -He entered the card-room, and found play in full swing at four -different tables. As usual, Harry Van Santen was playing bridge, and -Denver was having his usual luck at poker. - -The table at which he sat was the nearest to the door communicating -with the adjoining room, and it was also the nearest to the window, -which was closed and hidden behind the drawn curtains. - -Cecil Jones formed one of the poker party, and he was being eased of -the money of which he had boasted. - -But Gerard, who had now had time to consider his face well, was -surprised to note in his usually sheepish face something which made -him quite sure that there was some mystery about this friend of Miss -Davison’s. He had suspected it before, but he was now sure of it. Not -only was there under his expression of surface silliness an occasional -look which showed intelligence of a quite unusual kind, but there was -to-day in his manner a certain quiet watchfulness, which made Gerard -think he was lying in wait for something. - -What that something was--whether a signal from one of the Van Santens, -or a scene, or a signal from somebody else and another sort of -scene--he could not be sure. But that there was trouble of some kind in -the air he knew quite well. - -He almost thought, indeed, as he watched Cecil Jones from the doorway, -and saw him losing his money with little silly exclamations of -impatience or surprise, that the man appeared to be listening for -something. - -Once or twice he glanced in the direction of the window, although, as -it was closed and curtained, he could see nothing whatever of it. - -He lost more and more heavily as time went on, and bore his losses with -wonderful equanimity. - -But when play had gone on for some time, and while he was being -steadily eased of his money, Gerard heard a soft rustling sound behind -him, and turning quickly saw that old Mrs. Van Santen was standing at -his elbow, with a look of indescribable terror and distress upon her -face. It seemed to him that she was watching Cecil Jones as if he had -been, not the innocent idiot he looked, or the confederate which Gerard -had till that day believed him to be of her sons, but some harbinger of -evil, some messenger of adverse fate. - -And in a moment the last rag of suspicion that Jones could be a decoy -and a partner in the Van Santen operations fled from Gerard’s mind. - -The game went on, meanwhile, although it seemed to him that the old -lady would fain have stopped it. She even made an attempt to catch -Denver’s eye, and partially succeeded at last. But he only made her an -abrupt sign to withdraw, and went on with the congenial task of winning -from the placid Jones the money which he had so openly boasted of -having brought with him. - -At a sign from her son, Mrs. Van Santen suddenly disappeared, and -Gerard saw her no more for some time, and wondered whether she had -retired to “have a good cry” over her son’s gambling propensities, and -the troubles which she perhaps foresaw for him in consequence. - -Gerard, who was quite sure in his own mind that Cecil Jones was being -robbed, and that he was aware of the fact, found himself growing more -and more excited, as he waited, in a state of extreme nerve-tension, -for the crisis which he felt must be approaching. - -The sounds of voices, of movements, became dull and confused in his -mind; the figures of the players became blurred, and a sort of singing -in his ears warned him that he had better find relief to his intense -excitement in the open air, when suddenly, just as he was turning to go -towards the French window of the middle room, there was a sound like -the hissing of a serpent, followed immediately by the overthrow of -half a dozen chairs, and turning, he saw that, as he had foreseen, the -crisis had come. - -Cecil Jones, leaning across the card-table, had seized Denver’s arm, -and dragged out from the sleeve of the American a card, which he flung -down, face upwards, upon the table. - -Leaning across the table, and looking up steadily into the face of the -baffled Denver, who had sprung up from his chair, and was standing, -still in the grip of Jones, pale with rage and discomfiture, Jones -said, in a quiet voice that carried clearly to every corner of the room -and into that beyond-- - -“I thought so. You are a card-sharper!” - -In an instant there was an uproar in the room. - -The men who had been playing at the same table with Denver and Jones -were on their feet already, exclaiming, protesting, uttering indignant -exclamations. - -There was now a rush from the other tables, and Harry Van Santen led -the crowd that gathered round the detected cheat. - -Harry, with a very white face, uttered a harsh laugh which was meant to -be reassuring, but which was hollow, hideous, unreal, and horrible to -hear. - -“What’s this?” he cried. “It’s a trick, a silly trick that some of you -have played upon my brother! Who is it? You, Jones? Come, speak up and -own to it like a man.” - -Hard as was his forced laughter, the manner of the older American was -so assured, his voice was so deep and so confident, that one or two of -the men present seemed at first inclined to believe that the version of -the affair which he was trying to maintain was the true one. - -But Cecil Jones suddenly sprang up from his sprawling attitude, and -stood erect. - -“Gentlemen,” he said, addressing, conspicuously, not the two Americans, -but the rest of the company, “there has been systematic cheating -carried on here, as some of you might have guessed, I should think. -Don’t be alarmed. There is nothing to be feared except by the men who -have robbed you.” - -The uproar of voices, excited, indignant, which had ceased when he -began to speak, rose again when he left off. - -In the midst of it, there was a shrill scream, and Mrs. Van Santen, -looking, not the dear, simple old lady they were all used to, but a -very virago, with flaming eyes and harsh voice, cried, addressing Harry -and Denver-- - -“You can’t get away. The house is surrounded!” - - - - -CHAPTER XXIII - - -Something in the altered appearance of Mrs. Van Santen, as she came in -with resolute air and addressed her sons in a harsh, strident voice, -revealed to Gerard, as by a flash of inspiration, some of the truth -respecting her. - -That is to say, he recognized that he had been deceived in her; that -the gentle, amiable, simple old lady, with her primitive dress and air -of surprise at her new surroundings was a fraud; that, far from being -the innocent old lady she appeared to be, grateful for the recognition -of her smart English friends, and amazed at the position in which -she found herself in that English society which she had been taught -to consider stiff and exclusive, Mrs. Van Santen was in truth a very -keen-eyed woman, who understood thoroughly that British idiosyncrasy -of being exclusive to its own countrymen, but over-ready to receive -foreigners at their own valuation; that she had been quick to avail -herself of it, and to do all in her power to assist her family towards -a good position in English society, by a very clever affectation of -humility and simplicity combined, which had disarmed while it charmed. - -The old woman advanced into the card-room, and, looking around her with -eyes which were keen and sharp and penetrating, said, in an undertone-- - -“Where’s that Davison girl? I believe it’s she who is at the bottom of -this!” - -In the turmoil which had succeeded to the dead silence with which her -first announcement that the house was surrounded was received, Mrs. Van -Santen was the coolest person in the room. - -Denver had leaped to the window with an oath, had looked out into the -garden from the shelter of the curtains, and had drawn back again, with -his fresh color gone, and the look of a hunted animal in his handsome -eyes. - -Harry, on the other hand, had begun to busy himself in hastily -collecting not only the cards which were lying on the table, but the -money as well. In this latter occupation, however, he was stopped by -Cecil Jones, who, having kept a keen eye on all that happened after -his first unmasking of Denver, noted Harry’s occupation, and at once -checked him in it. - -“You had better leave the stakes alone,” said he quietly. “They are not -yours, you know.” - -Harry Van Santen showed fewer signs of emotion than his brother had -done. On being thus challenged, he just shrugged his shoulders, raised -his eyebrows, and withdrawing from the group that was clamoring round -the tables, sat down in a corner, with his face to the back of his -chair, and leaned down upon his arms, biting his nails and keeping his -eyes down. - -It flashed through Gerard’s mind as he looked at him that he must have -been through similar scenes before, that he knew it was best to take -things quietly, and to lie in wait for a chance to escape. - -Meanwhile Denver was blustering, assuring his guests that there was no -need to be uneasy, that an ugly trick was being played upon them, and -that, if the ladies would retire, he and the other men would find out -who were the authors of this fresh outrage, and would soon set matters -right. - -Of this advice, however, no notice was taken. There were several ladies -present, but they were all what Denver himself irreverently spoke of as -“old stagers,” women of rank or social position established enough not -to be daunted by the prospect of another “row,” and old enough to know -that the quieter they were the better were their own chances of getting -out of the ugly affair with dignity. - -All, moreover, were curious as to the issue of this business; and -though one lady affected to be on the verge of hysterics, as nobody -was at leisure to take any notice of her, she speedily recovered -sufficiently to take the same interest as the rest in what was going on. - -For events now began to move fast. - -Someone said “Hush!” and then all became aware that there were voices -and footsteps to be heard outside the house. One man went behind the -curtains to look out, and came back with a serious expression of face, -to confirm Mrs. Van Santen’s sensational statement. - -The house _was_ surrounded, and they were all virtually in custody. - -Not one of the people assembled, with the exception of old Mrs. Van -Santen, made an attempt to leave the room. She crossed the room with -amazing rapidity for one of her years, but finding that someone had -locked the door, she turned back again, and stood with a fierce look on -her face, but without speaking, with her back to the door, watching for -the crisis. - -Then there was a rattle and a rush in the next room, and a female -voice, which they believed to be Cora’s, uttered a slight scream. - -Then two policemen in uniform came into the room, and the foremost came -up to the table and looked round. - -Before he could speak, Cecil Jones, from the opposite side of the -table, addressed him-- - -“There are five of them,” he said, “two men and three women. Three out -of the five are in this room, the other two are, I believe, in those -two rooms adjoining,” and he pointed to the other drawing-rooms. “These -are the two men.” He pointedly rapidly to Denver and Harry Van Santen, -and then, turning, indicated Mrs. Van Santen, as he added: “And this is -the head of them all.” - -While he was speaking three or four more men had come quietly into the -room, and by the time he had ended, both Denver and Harry Van Santen -found themselves practically prisoners, each having a constable in -uniform on either side of him. - -Cecil Jones’s concluding words had created a sort of subdued hubbub in -the room. The amazement with which the onlookers learned that the dear -old lady, whom they had all condescendingly pitied and rather liked, -was the head of a gang of swindlers caused a new and strange excitement -to ferment in the room. - -They looked at each other, they looked at Mrs. Van Santen, and were -shocked to see in her usually mild eyes the ferocity of a wild beast at -bay, as two constables came up to her, and, without attempting to touch -her, kept her between them and stood on the watch one on each side. - -“Mrs. Van Santen! Isn’t it a mistake?” whispered some of the ladies -present. But the voice of Cecil Jones cut short the whispers. - -“That is Catherine Burge, the woman who did fourteen years for -insurance frauds,” was the answer which Jones gave to a man who was -remonstrating against the indignity offered to the old lady. - -A murmur of dismay ran through the room, and passed on to the next, -where all the rest of the guests were congregated in an eager group -close to the door of the card-room. - -Arthur was in the middle of this group, and beside him was Cora Van -Santen, the woman whom he looked upon as the loveliest and sweetest in -the world. - -Cora was deathly pale, and her teeth were tightly set and her slender -hands were clenched; but she had not said one word after the scream she -had given when the police entered the house. - -Now, however, she suddenly asked a question. As half a dozen more -constables came in single file into the room in which she was, entering -by way of the French window, and at once taking up a position behind -the group in the doorway, she said to Arthur, in a fierce undertone-- - -“Who let them in?” - -“I don’t know,” said Arthur, who felt sick and cold with excitement and -the dread of hearing something which would reflect upon the woman he -admired. - -Delia, who was also in the group, and who heard these words asked and -answered, turned round and laughed harshly. She was looking altogether -different from the charming, tactful, gracious creature who usually -spent her time walking from one to another among the guests, smoothing -the rough places and making herself popular with everyone. - -“Can’t you guess?” was all she said. - -And then she turned her head disdainfully away again, and resumed her -strenuous watch of the proceedings in the adjoining room. - -By this time Cecil Jones had seen his orders carried out in the -card-room, had muttered a low-voiced apology to one of the guests, a -sporting man of some social standing, whom he recognized, and had then -advanced towards the group in the doorway. Looking carefully among -them, he said, addressing the constables who were standing behind them-- - -“There are two more here. That’s one of them,” and he glanced at Delia. -“And”--he turned again,--“there’s the fifth and the last,” and he -indicated Cora. - -Arthur was up in arms. Struck with consternation, he saw a constable -beckoning to Cora to come out of the crowd which surrounded her. The -girl, with a frightened scream, which contrasted strongly with the -calmness shown by the others, tried to hide herself among the crowd. -Arthur at once tried to place himself between her and the police, so -that she might make her escape, as she appeared to wish to do, into the -card-room. - -But Cecil Jones was confronting her, and he smiled, and said gently-- - -“It’s of no use, Mr. Aldington. You’d better advise the young lady to -take things quietly. Especially as we shall do her but little harm.” - -Cora, however, instead of profiting by this advice, began to weep so -violently, to utter so many hysterical protests that she “had had -nothing to do with it, nothing whatever, that they told her it would -be all right, and that they ought to confess it now,” that Cecil -Jones made a sign to two of the constables, who gently made their way -through the group of guests, and taking the weeping girl by the arms, -led her back into the middle room, with Arthur Aldington, protesting -indignantly, in close attendance. - -When once she was free from the pressure of the crowd, however, Cora -suddenly resisted the attempts which they were about to make to lay her -on the sofa, and springing upright, said-- - -“If you’ll let me go I’ll tell you everything I know. It isn’t really -very much, and I’m real sorry now I ever took up with these people. My -engagement was to sing, that’s all: one hundred and fifty dollars a -day, and expenses. And I was to know nothing. Well, and I don’t know -anything, except that the police have come in. Now you’ll let me go, -won’t you?” - -“I don’t suppose you’ll be detained long, miss,” said one of the men. -“But as your name has been given us with the rest, we’re bound to take -you before the magistrate with them. It won’t be more than a formal -business as far as you’re concerned, I daresay, if you can prove what -you’ve told us.” - -“But I don’t want to be taken off as if I were a criminal,” said Cora -plaintively. “It’s not fair!” - -“Let me be answerable for the lady’s appearance at any time you may -want her,” said Arthur quickly. - -But the ungrateful Cora turned upon him and stamped her foot. - -“Oh, no,” she said, “I’ll not have you answerable for me. I’d rather go -through it myself. I’ve had to be civil to everybody so long that now -I must just speak out and freely say what’s in my mind. Mr. Aldington, -you’re a fool. You might have known how things were going, as your -friend Buckland did. He’s made himself safe, and I respect him for it. -He’s taken care to be on the right side.” - -Arthur was stupefied by this rebuff. Retreating with a few muttered -words, neither very coherent nor very intelligible, he turned and met -Delia who had made no attempt to resist the constables, and who stood -erect between two of them, with an air of boredom upon her handsome -face. - -“What will they do with us?” she asked Arthur quite simply. “Will we -get the same as those men?” - -“Do you mean your brothers?” - -She glanced behind her with an air of superb disdain. - -“Brothers?” she echoed, with much scorn. “Those fellows our brothers? -No. And we aren’t sisters, either, or daughters to that old woman. -We’re each on our own. And there’s no credit in owning it, as I guess -you folks know all about us, as much as we know ourselves.” - -Arthur was astounded. - -She smiled at him scornfully. - -“Well, we’ve had a good time!” she said at last, in a half-regretful -tone. “You Britishers are mighty easy to gull, aren’t you? One has -only got to call oneself a millionaire, to speak with an accent that -wouldn’t be tolerated on our side, and to give one’s address as -Chicago, and the best of you are ready to open your arms--and your -pockets. So, if you’re taken in now and then, it’s not surprising.” - -“Then--aren’t you--anything to do with--the millionaire?” gasped Arthur. - -“Just wish we were!” replied Delia simply; “no such luck. We’re just -a mixed lot of adventurers and adventuresses, making a common cause -to ease the pockets of your silly society folk, and to get ourselves -a pleasant time. If it had only lasted a little longer,” she added, -with a sigh, “we’d each have landed a stockbroker or one of your -wooden-headed baronets, and then we’d have been fixed up to rights!” - -Arthur turned slowly to look at Cora. She had dried her eyes, and was -sitting rather disconsolately on the sofa, while the constables who had -charge of both these younger ladies remained at a moderate distance, -satisfied that they had them both under observation. - -A moment later, there was a movement in the group round the door which -led to the card-room, and Mrs. Van Santen, closely guarded by two -constables, came in. At the sight of the two girls, she ran forward and -would have thrown herself on Delia’s neck, with a smothered sob and a -cry of “My daughter!” but Delia avoided her embrace and said shortly-- - -“Oh, we’ve had enough of this. We’re going to tell the truth, all that -we know. Our contract’s ended now, and we must save ourselves.” - -Mrs. Van Santen at once became a changed woman. The sweet look of -tenderness with which she had flown towards Delia altered to a hard -expression of anger and resentment, as she stopped short and putting -her head on one side, said-- - -“Say, have you given us all away, then?” - -“No,” answered Delia shortly. “You have to thank those two -card-sharpers in there for doing that.” - -“Do you mean my sons?” - -“No, you haven’t any sons,” retorted Delia, who seemed to take a sort -of calm delight in making her confession as complete and as public as -possible. “Those two men whom you call your sons are no more children -of yours than they are brothers of ours. They’re just a pair of -swindlers who don’t know how to swindle without being found out.” - -She made this statement calmly, in a high, clear voice, not without a -rather cleverly devised intention of being heard and applauded by the -people present, including the police. - -She was old enough to know that her share and that of the singing -girl Cora, having been entirely passive and showy, rather than -actively useful in the swindling practices carried on by their male -confederates, the punishment in store for them could not be on the -same plane as that earned by the men themselves. - -And as for Mrs. Van Santen, why, she was old enough and experienced -enough to look out for herself. - -But this sudden change in the attitude of her adopted family seemed -for a time to disconcert the old woman, who stared from Delia to Cora -and back again with an air of uncertainty as to what course she should -pursue in the circumstances. Before long, however, she recovered -herself, and, turning to the policeman who walked beside her and who -appeared more vigilant than those who were looking after the younger -women, she said, in a hard voice-- - -“Well, you’ve got to prove that there’s anything wrong in adopting -and providing for three or four young creatures who are not your own -children by birth; and that’s the worst thing you can accuse me of, -anyhow.” - -“Nobody has accused you of anything, ma’am,” said one of the officers. -“And you’d best not say anything more, else it may be used against you -presently.” - -But Mrs. Van Santen, alias Catherine Burge, laughed in his face. - -“You needn’t tell me that,” she said. “I’ve had some dealings with your -sort before, as some of you know. I don’t deny it. But that has nothing -to do with my conduct now, and I tell you there’s nothing to be proved -against me but too large a heart.” - -“Well, ma’am, you confine yourself to proving that when you’re before -the magistrates, and you won’t come to much harm if you succeed.” - -But in spite of the purity of her intentions, the old lady did not look -quite satisfied on this point. And Gerard Buckland, when he came out -of the card-room a minute later in search of Miss Davison, saw that -his gentle old New Englander had been transformed into a hard-featured -virago who glared at him with a suspicious eye. - -The sight of him roused the savage slumbering in her breast. She even -made a half attempt to rush towards him, but a movement on the part of -the nearest policeman made her pause. - -“I know who you’re looking for, Mr. Gerard Buckland,” she said. “And I -wish I knew myself where to find her. She’d not leave this house with -her demure face unscratched if I could!” - -Gerard, who had begun to make a shrewd guess as to the reason of Miss -Davison’s disappearance, knew better than to attempt to dispute with -the angry woman. - -He looked at Arthur Aldington, with a questioning upraising of the -eyebrows, which the other rightly understood to be an invitation to -accompany him on his departure. - -Arthur, still unwilling to leave Cora, who meanwhile had ungratefully -turned her back upon him and was sitting close to Delia on the sofa, -talking to her in a low voice, coughed to attract the attention of the -girl who had enchanted him. - -Cora looked carelessly over her shoulder. - -“Isn’t there anything I can do for you?” he asked in a low, hoarse -voice. - -“Nothing whatever, thank you,” she replied coldly. “I’ve done with -all of you. I’ve had to be civil long enough; now I can be natural, -and--good-bye.” - -She held out her hand quite abruptly and coldly. - -He took it, held it for a moment in fingers that trembled, and then, -dropping it with just one reproachful look at her, would almost have -staggered as he went away, but for Gerard, who took him by the arm, and -led him to the inner door. - -It was locked. - -“May we go out?” asked Gerard of the nearest policeman. - -There was a pause, and the man went into the next room to consult Cecil -Jones, came back with the key of the door, opened it, and silently let -the two young men into the hall. - -Here a couple of frightened maid-servants and a sullen footman were -sitting on the stairs, discussing the amazing situation. - -“Has Miss Davison gone away?” asked Gerard of one of them. - -But she only shook her head, and, looking horribly alarmed, told -him that she knew nothing, and that they had been warned not to say -anything to anybody except the police. - -With which discomfiting information the two young men had to be -content, as they went out of the Priory for the last time. - - - - -CHAPTER XXIV, AND LAST - - -They walked in silence down the drive, with that sinking of the heart -inevitable when a pleasant time comes suddenly to an end. But there -was more than this to trouble them both. The thoughts of the young men -were with the girls who had enchanted them. Arthur was pondering, with -the deepest pain, the terrible awakening he had had only a short time -before, from the dream that he had found a pearl among women, a very -queen of girls. - -He had made up his mind to take courage, and to ask Cora to be his -wife, although he was afraid that his own prospects, good as they were, -might not seem golden enough to tempt the parents of the sweet-voiced -Cora to yield their consent to his wooing. - -But of Cora herself he had entertained no doubts. And to find that -the charms which had fascinated him, the bright wit which had amused -him, had been merely part of the stock-in-trade of one of a party of -adventurers, bent on making a good thing out of British credulity while -their time of prosperity lasted, was such a shock that it left him -dazed, unable to think or to understand. - -Gerard, on his side, though he was not suffering, like his friend, from -a great disillusion, was in a state of terrible anxiety. - -Where was Rachel? Had she compromised herself with these adventurers? -And had she alone of them all had the cleverness to escape the net laid -for their feet by the police? - -Or was she, as he thought much more probable, the accomplice of Cecil -Jones, and his assistant in bringing the Americans to justice? - -Neither possibility was pleasant to contemplate. If she were one of the -friends of these Americans, even though she might extricate herself -from all suspicion of being concerned in their misdoings, she could not -fail to be dragged into a most unpleasant case, the publicity of which -might perhaps offend, if not alienate, her best friends. - -If, on the other hand, as seemed much more probable, she should prove -to have been the accomplice of Cecil Jones, it was distasteful to -contemplate her having assisted in exposing the people who passed as -her friends and who gave her the shelter of their roof. - -On the whole, therefore, it was in a state of considerable perplexity -and distress that Gerard accompanied his friend down the drive, and -turned into the road. - -Both young men had come down by train, and it was towards the station -that they were wending their way, when they saw a little way in front -of them the bright lights of a motor-car. - -Expecting to find that it and its occupants had some connection with -the police surprise at the Priory, Gerard and Arthur walked quickly up -to it and perceived that the man in a big overcoat, who was standing -beside it, was no other than Cecil Jones. - -“Ah!” said he, making a gesture with his hand to stop them, “here he -comes!” - -The young men, rather disconcerted, stopped and looked at him -aggressively. They felt that upon his shoulders lay the burden of the -brusque manner in which the crisis at the Priory had taken place. - -“You are from Scotland Yard, I suppose?” said Gerard stiffly. - -Jones nodded with a genial smile. But it was strange how that smile -of his, which used to seem so imbecile and irritating when they had -taken him for a fool, or an amiable decoy, seemed to have grown astute -and intelligent now that they knew him for what he was, a detective of -remarkably well developed histrionic powers and the keenest of keen -eyes. - -Jones nodded. - -Gerard glanced at the car, and Jones stepped back. - -“There’s someone you know inside,” he said with a dry smile. - -He was gently, mildly triumphant, satisfied with having brought off a -coup which would redound greatly to his credit. - -Gerard guessed whom he should see as he stepped up to the side of the -car. And, just as he had expected, he saw Miss Davison inside, leaning -back in one corner, with her eyes closed, and a look of weariness that -was almost pain upon her handsome, pale face. - -But it was the sight of the man seated beside her which caused Gerard -to utter an exclamation, and to look in stupefaction from Rachel to him -and from him to Cecil Jones. - -For, sitting in the car beside Miss Davison, wrapped in a fur-lined -motor-coat and with a cap drawn well down over his eyes, was the -distinguished-looking man with the white mustache whom Gerard had been -accustomed to look upon as her evil genius. - -“Let me introduce Mr. Buckland, Colonel,” said Cecil Jones, as he came -up to the side of the car and leaned upon the door. - -But at the name Miss Davison sat up, and leaning towards the man by her -side, whispered loud enough for Gerard to hear-- - -“Oh, uncle, I may tell him now, may I not?” - -Some inkling of the truth, the whole truth, was already beginning to -glimmer in Gerard’s brain, but he was not to know all just yet. - -The man with the white mustache shook his head, whispered something -back, and then said aloud, holding out his hand to Gerard-- - -“I’m very pleased to meet you, Mr. Buckland. I’ve heard a great deal -about you from my niece. But I ought to introduce myself. My name is -Ormsby, Colonel Ormsby.” - -Gerard could scarcely refrain from uttering a cry. For he had suddenly -remembered that the face of the man with the white mustache, which had -roused faint recollections which he could not fix in his mind, was that -of a certain gallant officer who had been made chief constable of one -of the large provincial towns, and who had distinguished himself not -many years before in an important criminal case which was still in the -public mind. - -Further glimmerings as to Miss Davison’s position began to appear in -Gerard’s mind. - -Meanwhile Cecil Jones had said a few words in a low voice to the -colonel, and raising his hat to the lady, had walked back towards the -Priory at a brisk pace, accompanied by another man who had remained -quietly in the background during the few minutes that this introduction -lasted. - -The colonel asked the two young men whether they would go back to town, -and on receiving their thanks, he made way for them to enter the car, -which immediately started on its journey. - -Very little was said by anybody until town was reached. - -Miss Davison, who seemed thoroughly exhausted, scarcely opened her -eyes, but sat back in her corner, from time to time inhaling the -contents of a bottle of lavender salts which she held in her hand. - -The colonel sat next to her, and Gerard on the outer side, while Arthur -Aldington occupied the seat beside the driver. - -It was a very long time before Colonel Ormsby said anything about -the affair at the Priory. But just as they were driving through the -outskirts of London, and Miss Davison was rousing herself and putting -up her hands to rearrange her hat, he whispered in the young man’s ear-- - -“You’ve been present to-day at the capture of one of the most dangerous -card-sharping and blackmailing gangs in Europe. They’ll each get seven -years.” - -“Blackmailing?” echoed Gerard, horrorstruck. - -The colonel nodded. - -“They hadn’t begun that game over here yet, but they wouldn’t have been -long in starting, if they hadn’t been laid by the heels. That old woman -is the author of more mischief than would suffice to keep half a dozen -criminal courts busy.” - -Gerard uttered an exclamation of surprise. - -“But the name--isn’t she Mrs. Van Santen?” he asked appalled. - -“No. There is a Mrs. Van Santen, who lives in an out-of-the-way town -in the States, and whose husband has made his pile in railway stocks; -but she has nothing to do with them, nor have the other members of the -gang. Each has a different surname or, rather, a dozen.” - -“And the women--the others?” - -“I don’t know anything of the one who calls herself Delia; but there is -probably a history behind her good-looking mask. The other is a public -singer--married--” - -“Married?” echoed Gerard. - -“Yes--husband in America, or was. She may now be the wife of the man -who calls himself Harry Van Santen. He’s a precious scoundrel, the -worse of the two, if anything.” - -Gerard was appalled. The thought that Miss Davison had been living -under the same roof with these dangerous criminals was terrible, and he -stammered out something of his thoughts. - -The colonel glanced at him quickly, and nodded. - -“Only a woman of the finest pluck and the most indomitable spirit could -have done it. The strain must have been tremendous,” he said. “However, -we couldn’t have brought things to a head without her help.” - -“To play the spy--on the people who thought she was their friend!” -stammered Gerard. - -“That’s not exactly the case,” returned the colonel in a voice too low -for his niece to hear. “She helped to keep the house going. I know, for -we supplied the money.” - -Gerard uttered an exclamation. - -Then he sat back as if stunned. - -“Then she is--a detective!” he almost gasped. - -“Well, she has been acting in that capacity,” admitted Colonel Ormsby. -“I wish she would go on with the career. She began it at my suggestion, -on my fervent advice. She has been a great success, an unparalleled -success. If you were wise, you, as I understand, have great influence -with her, would advise her to keep on with it.” - -Gerard said nothing. He did not see the look of keen anxiety on the -face of Rachel, who had gathered some part of their conversation, and -who knew what the subject was that they were discussing. - -They went on in silence until Piccadilly was reached. Then the colonel -turned to his niece. - -“My dear, where are you going to stay to-night? Will you put up at my -hotel?” - -She shook her head. - -“I’ve kept on the lodgings in Duke Street,” said she. “I think I’ll -go there. And you can come and see me in the morning, and take me to -Lady Jennings’. I can’t feel happy till I’ve told the dear old thing -everything.” - -“Very well, my dear. Then I’ll tell Marks to drive to Duke Street.” - -They drove on, and Miss Davison was helped out by the gentlemen, and -Gerard thanked the colonel for having brought him so far on his way, -and let the car drive away without him. - -For Miss Davison had given him a look which he took for permission to -speak to her. And as the car drove down the street, they walked up it, -side by side, in the quiet night. - -“Now,” said she, with a weary air of being glad to get rid of a -burden, “you know everything. You can see why it was impossible for -me to tell you anything. I was under promise--oath--not to let any -creature on earth know what I was and what my work was. I was fully -sheltered by the fact that it was my uncle who had started me on this -most distasteful but most remunerative career, and though I have often -asked him to release me, he has always refused until I could assist in -carrying out some sensational feat, to justify, as he said, his choice -of me for this career.” - -“And he has released you now?” - -“Of course. If he had not, you would have known nothing, you would have -been told nothing.” - -“You might have trusted me,” said Gerard reproachfully. - -She turned upon him quickly. - -“I could trust no one,” she said. “A word, nay, a look, while I was -living under the same roof with a gang of dangerous criminals, might -have been death to me. I knew that, while I was staying with them, I -carried my life in my hand. It was by far the worst experience I have -ever had, and I could not have gone through with it, could not have -stood the strain of being always on the watch for the proofs which -I had to hoard up to communicate to the police, but for my uncle’s -promise that it should be the last, the very last thing he would call -upon me to do.” - -Gerard involuntarily heaved a deep sigh of thankfulness. - -“And you have done with it?” he said. - -“Yes.” - -His tone grew harder. - -“For the time, that is, of course. You will probably find your way -back when you are asked by the friends you have formed. It was Cecil -Jones who accompanied you everywhere, wasn’t it? When you detected -pickpockets in a crowd, and handed him the stolen property? When you -accompanied him to the police-station to give evidence against the -shop-lifter at the stores--” - -“You thought _I_ was the shop-lifter!” said Miss Davison demurely. - -“Well, I know better now. As I say, you always had this Jones--” - -“Whose name is not Jones at all.” - -“Well, you had this fellow who calls himself Jones to help you and to -stand by you.” - -“Yes. My uncle, who gives advice to the police in important cases -still, though he has practically retired, picked out this man as one -he could rely upon to help me.” - -“And now I suppose you will marry him?” said Gerard fiercely. - -Miss Davison looked demurely down on the pavement. - -“He has a wife,” she said, “and three, if not four, children.” - -“Thank God!” - -Miss Davison suddenly stopped and held out her hand. - -“Good-night,” said she, “Mr. Buckland, and--good-bye.” - -He took her hand and held it in his own, which was trembling. - -“Must it be good-bye, Rachel?” he said hoarsely. - -“Surely,” said she, with a little forced, weary laugh, “you don’t want -to remain a friend of an ex-detective!” - -Gerard burst into a tirade of which the salient features were that he -would have remained her friend if she had actually been one of the -gang themselves, if she had been a card-sharper, if she had been a -shop-lifter, if she had been a pickpocket. He loved her, and he knew -that, whatever she might have done, she would never have been anything -at heart but the noble and good woman whom he loved as he had always -done. - -He behaved indeed so irrationally, he expressed his love and devotion -in so many impassioned and absurd speeches, he looked so earnest and -he spoke so tenderly, that Miss Davison, if she could in any case have -held out till morning, was softened, and gave way there and then. Gave -way, that is to say, to the extent of telling him that he was an absurd -boy, and that he might, if he liked, and if he had nothing better to -do, take her to see Lady Jennings on the following day. - -And, as there was no one in the street, she let him kiss her when he -said good-night. - - -THE END - - - - -TRANSCRIBER’S NOTES: - - - Italicized text is surrounded by underscores: _italics_. - - Obvious typographical errors have been corrected. - - Inconsistencies in hyphenation have been standardized. - -*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE DAZZLING MISS DAVISON *** - -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 an eBook, except by following -the terms of the trademark license, including paying royalties for use -of the Project Gutenberg trademark. If you do not charge anything for -copies of this eBook, complying with the trademark license is very -easy. You may use this eBook for nearly any purpose such as creation -of derivative works, reports, performances and research. Project -Gutenberg eBooks 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 other than 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 will 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 website -(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 the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation, the manager 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 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 website -and official page at www.gutenberg.org/contact - -Section 4. Information about Donations to the Project Gutenberg -Literary Archive Foundation - -Project Gutenberg-tm depends upon and cannot survive without -widespread 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 website which has the main PG search -facility: www.gutenberg.org - -This website 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. |