[Illustration: Emily Fox-Seton]

 EMILY FOX-SETON

BEING "THE MAKING OF A MARCHIONESS" AND "THE METHODS OF LADY WALDERHURST"

 ByFrances Hodgson Burnett

 ILLUSTRATED BY C. D. WILLIAMS

 NEW YORK GROSSET & DUNLAP PUBLISHERS

Copyright, 1901, by The Century Company

Copyright, 1901, by Mrs. Frances Hodgson Burnett

Copyright, 1901, by Frederick A. Stokes Company

September, 1909

[** Transcriber's note: I have corrected a few obvious printers' errors. Details are AFTER the text so as not to interrupt the flow of what wasintended to be an enjoyable read and not a scholarly work. **]

PART ONE

Chapter One

When Miss Fox-Seton descended from the twopenny bus as it drew up, shegathered her trim tailor-made skirt about her with neatness and decorum, being well used to getting in and out of twopenny buses and to makingher way across muddy London streets. A woman whose tailor-made suit mustlast two or three years soon learns how to protect it from splashes, andhow to aid it to retain the freshness of its folds. During her trudgingabout this morning in the wet, Emily Fox-Seton had been very careful, and, in fact, was returning to Mortimer Street as unspotted as she hadleft it. She had been thinking a good deal about her dress--thisparticular faithful one which she had already worn through atwelvemonth. Skirts had made one of their appalling changes, and as shewalked down Regent Street and Bond Street she had stopped at the windowsof more than one shop bearing the sign "Ladies' Tailor and Habit-Maker, "and had looked at the tautly attired, preternaturally slim models, herlarge, honest hazel eyes wearing an anxious expression. She was tryingto discover _where_ seams were to be placed and how gathers were to behung; or if there were to be gathers at all; or if one had to be bereftof every seam in a style so unrelenting as to forbid the possibility ofthe honest and semi-penniless struggling with the problem of remodellinglast season's skirt at all. "As it is only quite an ordinary brown, " shehad murmured to herself, "I might be able to buy a yard or so to matchit, and I _might_ be able to join the gore near the pleats at the backso that it would not be seen. "

She quite beamed as she reached the happy conclusion. She was such asimple, normal-minded creature that it took but little to brighten theaspect of life for her and to cause her to break into her good-natured, childlike smile. A little kindness from any one, a little pleasure or alittle comfort, made her glow with nice-tempered enjoyment. As she gotout of the bus, and picked up her rough brown skirt, prepared to trampbravely through the mud of Mortimer Street to her lodgings, she waspositively radiant. It was not only her smile which was childlike, herface itself was childlike for a woman of her age and size. She wasthirty-four and a well-set-up creature, with fine square shoulders and along small waist and good hips. She was a big woman, but carried herselfwell, and having solved the problem of obtaining, through marvels ofenergy and management, one good dress a year, wore it so well, andchanged her old ones so dexterously, that she always looked rathersmartly dressed. She had nice, round, fresh cheeks and nice, big, honesteyes, plenty of mouse-brown hair and a short, straight nose. She wasstriking and well-bred-looking, and her plenitude of good-naturedinterest in everybody, and her pleasure in everything out of whichpleasure could be wrested, gave her big eyes a fresh look which made herseem rather like a nice overgrown girl than a mature woman whose lifewas a continuous struggle with the narrowest of mean fortunes. 

She was a woman of good blood and of good education, as the education ofsuch women goes. She had few relatives, and none of them had anyintention of burdening themselves with her pennilessness. They werepeople of excellent family, but had quite enough to do to keep theirsons in the army or navy and find husbands for their daughters. WhenEmily's mother had died and her small annuity had died with her, none ofthem had wanted the care of a big raw-boned girl, and Emily had had thesituation frankly explained to her. At eighteen she had begun to work asassistant teacher in a small school; the year following she had taken aplace as nursery-governess; then she had been reading-companion to anunpleasant old woman in Northumberland. The old woman had lived in thecountry, and her relatives had hovered over her like vultures awaitingher decease. The household had been gloomy and gruesome enough to havedriven into melancholy madness any girl not of the sanest and mostmatter-of-fact temperament. Emily Fox-Seton had endured it with anunfailing good nature, which at last had actually awakened in the breastof her mistress a ray of human feeling. When the old woman at lengthdied, and Emily was to be turned out into the world, it was revealedthat she had been left a legacy of a few hundred pounds, and a lettercontaining some rather practical, if harshly expressed, advice. 

Go back to London [Mrs. Maytham had written in her feeble, crabbedhand]. You are not clever enough to do anything remarkable in the way ofearning your living, but you are so good-natured that you can makeyourself useful to a lot of helpless creatures who will pay you a triflefor looking after them and the affairs they are too lazy or too foolishto manage for themselves. You might get on to one of the second-classfashion-papers to answer ridiculous questions about house-keeping orwall-papers or freckles. You know the kind of thing I mean. You mightwrite notes or do accounts and shopping for some lazy woman. You are apractical, honest creature, and you have good manners. I have oftenthought that you had just the kind of commonplace gifts that a host ofcommonplace people want to find at their service. An old servant of minewho lives in Mortimer Street would probably give you cheap, decentlodgings, and behave well to you for my sake. She has reason to be fondof me. Tell her I sent you to her, and that she must take you in for tenshillings a week. 

Emily wept for gratitude, and ever afterward enthroned old Mrs. Maythamon an altar as a princely and sainted benefactor, though after she hadinvested her legacy she got only twenty pounds a year from it. 

"It was so _kind_ of her, " she used to say with heartfelt humbleness ofspirit. "I never _dreamed_ of her doing such a generous thing. I hadn'ta _shadow_ of a claim upon her--not a _shadow_. " It was her way toexpress her honest emotions with emphasis which italicised, as it were, her outpourings of pleasure or appreciation. 

She returned to London and presented herself to the ex-serving-woman. Mrs. Cupp had indeed reason to remember her mistress gratefully. At atime when youth and indiscreet affection had betrayed her disastrously, she had been saved from open disgrace and taken care of by Mrs. Maytham. 

The old lady, who had then been a vigorous, sharp-tongued, middle-agedwoman, had made the soldier lover marry his despairing sweetheart, andwhen he had promptly drunk himself to death, she had set her up in alodging-house which had thriven and enabled her to support herself andher daughter decently. 

In the second story of her respectable, dingy house there was a smallroom which she went to some trouble to furnish up for her deadmistress's friend. It was made into a bed-sitting-room with the aid of acot which Emily herself bought and disguised decently as a couch duringthe daytime, by means of a red and blue Como blanket. The one window ofthe room looked out upon a black little back-yard and a sooty wall onwhich thin cats crept stealthily or sat and mournfully gazed at fate. The Como rug played a large part in the decoration of the apartment. Oneof them, with a piece of tape run through a hem, hung over the door inthe character of a _portière_; another covered a corner which was MissFox-Seton's sole wardrobe. As she began to get work, the cheerful, aspiring creature bought herself a Kensington carpet-square, as red asKensington art would permit it to be. She covered her chairs withTurkey-red cotton, frilling them round the seats. Over her cheap whitemuslin curtains (eight and eleven a pair at Robson's) she hungTurkey-red draperies. She bought a cheap cushion at one of Liberty'ssales, and some bits of twopenny-halfpenny art china for her narrowmantelpiece. A lacquered tea-tray and a tea-set of a single cup andsaucer, a plate and a teapot, made her feel herself almost sumptuous. After a day spent in trudging about in the wet or cold of the streets, doing other people's shopping, or searching for dressmakers or servants'characters for her patrons, she used to think of her bed-sitting-roomwith joyful anticipation. Mrs. Cupp always had a bright fire glowing inher tiny grate when she came in, and when her lamp was lighted under itshome-made shade of crimson Japanese paper, its cheerful air, combiningitself with the singing of her little, fat, black kettle on the hob, seemed absolute luxury to a tired, damp woman. 

Mrs. Cupp and Jane Cupp were very kind and attentive to her. No one wholived in the same house with her could have helped liking her. She gaveso little trouble, and was so expansively pleased by any attention, thatthe Cupps, --who were sometimes rather bullied and snubbed by the"professionals" who generally occupied their other rooms, --quite lovedher. Sometimes the "professionals, " extremely smart ladies and gentlemenwho did turns at the balls or played small parts at theatres, wereirregular in their payments or went away leaving bills behind them; butMiss Fox-Seton's payments were as regular as Saturday night, and, infact, there had been times when, luck being against her, Emily had goneextremely hungry during a whole week rather than buy her lunches at theladies' tea-shops with the money that would pay her rent. In the honestminds of the Cupps, she had become a sort of possession of which theywere proud. She seemed to bring into their dingy lodging-house a touchof the great world, --that world whose people lived in Mayfair and hadcountry-houses where they entertained parties for the shooting and thehunting, and in which also existed the maids and matrons who on coldspring mornings sat, amid billows of satin and tulle and lace, surrounded with nodding plumes, waiting, shivering, for hours in theircarriages that they might at last enter Buckingham Palace and beadmitted to the Drawing-room. Mrs. Cupp knew that Miss Fox-Seton was"well connected;" she knew that she possessed an aunt with a title, though her ladyship never took the slightest notice of her niece. JaneCupp took "Modern Society, " and now and then had the pleasure of readingaloud to her young man little incidents concerning some castle or manorin which Miss Fox-Seton's aunt, Lady Malfry, was staying with earls andspecial favorites of the Prince's. Jane also knew that Miss Fox-Setonoccasionally sent letters addressed "To the Right Honourable theCountess of So-and-so, " and received replies stamped with coronets. Onceeven a letter had arrived adorned with strawberry-leaves, an incidentwhich Mrs. Cupp and Jane had discussed with deep interest over their hotbuttered-toast and tea. 

Emily Fox-Seton, however, was far from making any professions ofgrandeur. As time went on she had become fond enough of the Cupps to bequite frank with them about her connections with these grand people. Thecountess had heard from a friend that Miss Fox-Seton had once found heran excellent governess, and she had commissioned her to find for her areliable young ladies' serving-maid. She had done some secretarial workfor a charity of which the duchess was patroness. In fact, these peopleknew her only as a well-bred woman who for a modest remuneration wouldmake herself extremely useful in numberless practical ways. She knewmuch more of them than they knew of her, and, in her affectionateadmiration for those who treated her with human kindness, sometimesspoke to Mrs. Cupp or Jane of their beauty or charity with a very nice, ingenuous feeling. Naturally some of her patrons grew fond of her, andas she was a fine, handsome young woman with a perfectly correctbearing, they gave her little pleasures, inviting her to tea orluncheon, or taking her to the theatre. 

Her enjoyment of these things was so frank and grateful that the Cuppscounted them among their own joys. Jane Cupp--who knew something ofdressmaking--felt it a brilliant thing to be called upon to renovate anold dress or help in the making of a new one for some festivity. TheCupps thought their tall, well-built lodger something of a beauty, andwhen they had helped her to dress for the evening, baring her fine, bigwhite neck and arms, and adorning her thick braids of hair with somesparkling, trembling ornaments, after putting her in her four-wheeledcab, they used to go back to their kitchen and talk about her, andwonder that some gentleman who wanted a handsome, stylish woman at thehead of his table, did not lay himself and his fortune at her feet. 

"In the photograph-shops in Regent Street you see many a lady in acoronet that hasn't half the good looks she has, " Mrs. Cupp remarkedfrequently. "She's got a nice complexion and a fine head of hair, and--if you ask _me_--she's got as nice a pair of clear eyes as a ladycould have. Then look at her figure--her neck and her waist! That kindof big long throat of hers would set off rows of pearls or diamondsbeautiful! She's a lady born, too, for all her simple, every-day way;and she's a sweet creature, if ever there was one. For kind-heartednessand good-nature I never saw her equal. "

Miss Fox-Seton had middle-class patrons as well as noble ones, --in fact, those of the middle class were far more numerous than the duchesses, --soit had been possible for her to do more than one good turn for the Cupphousehold. She had got sewing in Maida Vale and Bloomsbury for Jane Cuppmany a time, and Mrs. Cupp's dining-room floor had been occupied foryears by a young man Emily had been able to recommend. Her ownappreciation of good turns made her eager to do them for others. Shenever let slip a chance to help any one in any way. 

It was a good-natured thing done by one of her patrons who liked her, which made her so radiant as she walked through the mud this morning. She was inordinately fond of the country, and having had what she called"a bad winter, " she had not seen the remotest chance of getting out oftown at all during the summer months. The weather was beginning to beunusually hot, and her small red room, which seemed so cosy in winter, was shut in by a high wall from all chance of breezes. Occasionally shelay and panted a little in her cot, and felt that when all the privateomnibuses, loaded with trunks and servants, had rattled away anddeposited their burdens at the various stations, life in town would berather lonely. Every one she knew would have gone somewhere, andMortimer Street in August was a melancholy thing. 

And Lady Maria had actually invited her to Mallowe. What a piece of goodfortune-what an extraordinary piece of kindness!

She did not know what a source of entertainment she was to Lady Maria, and how the shrewd, worldly old thing liked her. Lady Maria Bayne wasthe cleverest, sharpest-tongued, smartest old woman in London. She kneweverybody and had done everything in her youth, a good many things notconsidered highly proper. A certain royal duke had been much pleasedwith her and people had said some very nasty things about it. But thishad not hurt Lady Maria. She knew how to say nasty things herself, andas she said them wittily they were usually listened to and repeated. 

Emily Fox-Seton had gone to her first to write notes for an hour everyevening. She had sent, declined, and accepted invitations, and put offcharities and dull people. She wrote a fine, dashing hand, and had amatter-of-fact intelligence and knowledge of things. Lady Maria began todepend on her and to find that she could be sent on errands and dependedon to do a number of things. Consequently, she was often at South AudleyStreet, and once, when Lady Maria was suddenly taken ill and washorribly frightened about herself, Emily was such a comfort to her thatshe kept her for three weeks. 

"The creature is so cheerful and perfectly free from vice that she's arelief, " her ladyship said to her nephew afterward. "So many women areaffected cats. She'll go out and buy you a box of pills or a porousplaster, but at the same time she has a kind of simplicity and freedomfrom spites and envies which might be the natural thing for a princess. "

So it happened that occasionally Emily put on her best dress and mostcarefully built hat and went to South Audley Street to tea. (Sometimesshe had previously gone in buses to some remote place in the City to buya special tea of which there had been rumours. ) She met some very smartpeople and rarely any stupid ones, Lady Maria being incased in aperfect, frank armour of good-humoured selfishness, which would havebeen capable of burning dulness at the stake. 

"I won't have dull people, " she used to say. "I'm dull myself. "

When Emily Fox-Seton went to her on the morning in which this storyopens, she found her consulting her visiting-book and making lists. 

"I'm arranging my parties for Mallowe, " she said rather crossly. "Howtiresome it is! The people one wants at the same time are always nailedto the opposite ends of the earth. And then things are found out aboutpeople, and one can't have them till it's blown over. Those ridiculousDexters! They were the nicest possible pair--both of them good-lookingand both of them ready to flirt with anybody. But there was too muchflirting, I suppose. Good heavens! if I couldn't have a scandal and keepit quiet, I wouldn't have a scandal at all. Come and help me, Emily. "

Emily sat down beside her. 

"You see, it is my early August party, " said her ladyship, rubbing herdelicate little old nose with her pencil, "and Walderhurst is coming tome. It always amuses me to have Walderhurst. The moment a man like thatcomes into a room the women begin to frisk about and swim and languish, except those who try to get up interesting conversations they thinklikely to attract his attention. They all think it is possible that hemay marry them. If he were a Mormon he might have marchionesses ofWalderhurst of all shapes and sizes. "

"I suppose, " said Emily, "that he was very much in love with his firstwife and will never marry again. "

"He wasn't in love with her any more than he was in love with hishousemaid. He knew he must marry, and thought it very annoying. As thechild died, I believe he thinks it his duty to marry again. But he hatesit. He's rather dull, and he can't bear women fussing about and wantingto be made love to. "

They went over the visiting-book and discussed people and datesseriously. The list was made and the notes written before Emily left thehouse. It was not until she had got up and was buttoning her coat thatLady Maria bestowed her boon. 

"Emily, " she said, "I am going to ask you to Mallowe on the 2d. I wantyou to help me to take care of people and keep them from boring me andone another, though I don't mind their boring one another half so muchas I mind their boring me. I want to be able to go off and take my napat any hour I choose. I will _not_ entertain people. What you can do isto lead them off to gather things of look at church towers. I hopeyou'll come. "

Emily Fox-Seton's face flushed rosily, and her eyes opened and sparkled. 

"O Lady Maria, you _are_ kind!" she said. "You know how I should enjoyit. I have heard so much of Mallowe. Every one says it is so beautifuland that there are no such gardens in England. "

"They are good gardens. My husband was rather mad about roses. The besttrain for you to take is the 2:30 from Paddington. That will bring youto the Court just in time for tea on the lawn. "

Emily could have kissed Lady Maria if they had been on the terms whichlead people to make demonstrations of affection. But she would have beenquite as likely to kiss the butler when he bent over her at dinner andmurmured in dignified confidence, "Port or sherry, miss?" Bibsworthwould have been no more astonished than Lady Maria would, and Bibsworthcertainly would have expired of disgust and horror. 

She was so happy when she hailed the twopenny bus that when she got intoit her face was beaming with the delight which adds freshness and goodlooks to any woman. To think that such good luck had come to her! Tothink of leaving her hot little room behind her and going as a guest toone of the most beautiful old houses in England! How delightful it wouldbe to live for a while quite naturally the life the fortunate peoplelived year after year--to be a part of the beautiful order andpicturesqueness and dignity of it! To sleep in a lovely bedroom, to becalled in the morning by a perfect housemaid, to have one's early teaserved in a delicate cup, and to listen as one drank it to the birdssinging in the trees in the park! She had an ingenuous appreciation ofthe simplest material joys, and the fact that she would wear her nicestclothes every day, and dress for dinner every evening, was a delightfulthing to reflect upon. She got so much more out of life than mostpeople, though she was not aware of it. 

She opened the front door of the house in Mortimer Street with herlatch-key, and went upstairs, almost unconscious that the damp heat wasdreadful. She met Jane Cupp coming down, and smiled at her happily. 

"Jane, " she said, "if you are not busy, I should like to have a littletalk with you. Will you come into my room?"

"Yes, miss, " Jane replied, with her usual respectful lady's maid's air. It was in truth Jane's highest ambition to become some day maid to agreat lady, and she privately felt that her association with MissFox-Seton was the best possible training. She used to ask to be allowedto dress her when she went out, and had felt it a privilege to bepermitted to "do" her hair. 

She helped Emily to remove her walking dress, and neatly folded away hergloves and veil. She knelt down before her as soon as she saw her seatherself to take off her muddy boots. 

"Oh, _thank_ you, Jane, " Emily exclaimed, with her kind italicisedmanner. "That _is_ good of you. I _am_ tired, really. But such a nicething has happened. I have had such a delightful invi-tation for thefirst week in August. "

"I'm sure you'll enjoy it, miss, " said Jane. "It's so hot in August. "

"Lady Maria Bayne has been kind enough to invite me to Mallowe Court, "explained Emily, smiling down at the cheap slipper Jane was putting onher large, well-shaped foot. She was built on a large scale, and herfoot was of no Cinderella-like proportions. 

"O miss!" exclaimed Jane. "How beautiful! I was reading about Mallowe in'Modern Society' the other day, and it said it was lovely and herladyship's parties were wonderful for smartness. The paragraph was aboutthe Marquis of Walderhurst. "

"He is Lady Maria's cousin, " said Emily, "and he will be there when Iam. "

She was a friendly creature, and lived a life so really isolated fromany ordinary companionship that her simple little talks with Jane andMrs. Cupp were a pleasure to her. The Cupps were neither gossiping norintrusive, and she felt as if they were her friends. Once when she hadbeen ill for a week she remembered suddenly realising that she had nointimates at all, and that if she died Mrs. Cupp's and Jane's wouldcertainly be the last faces--and the only ones--she would see. She hadcried a little the night she thought of it, but then, as she toldherself, she was feverish and weak, and it made her morbid. 

"It was because of this invitation that I wanted to talk to you, Jane, "she went on. "You see, we shall have to begin to contrive aboutdresses. "

"Yes, indeed, miss. It's fortunate that the summer sales are on, isn'tit? I saw some beautiful colored linens yesterday. They were so cheap, and they do make up so smart for the country. Then you've got your newTussore with the blue collar and waistband. It does become you. "

"I must say I think that a Tussore always looks fresh, " said Emily, "andI saw a really nice little tan toque--one of those soft straw ones--forthree and eleven. And just a twist of blue chiffon and a wing would makeit look quite _good_. "

She was very clever with her fingers, and often did excellent thingswith a bit of chiffon and a wing, or a few yards of linen or muslin anda remnant of lace picked up at a sale. She and Jane spent quite a happyafternoon in careful united contemplation of the resources of herlimited wardrobe. They found that the brown skirt _could_ be altered, and, with the addition of new _revers_ and collar and a _jabot_ ofstring-coloured lace at the neck, would look quite fresh. A black netevening dress, which a patron had good-naturedly given her the yearbefore, could be remodelled and touched up delightfully. Her fresh faceand her square white shoulders were particularly adorned by black. Therewas a white dress which could be sent to the cleaner's, and an old pinkone whose superfluous breadths could be combined with lace and achievewonders. 

"Indeed, I think I shall be very well off for dinner-dresses, " saidEmily. "Nobody expects me to change often. Every one knows--if theynotice at all. " She did not know she was humble-minded and of an angeliccontentedness of spirit. In fact, she did not find herself interested incontemplation of her own qualities, but in contemplation and admirationof those of other people. It was necessary to provide Emily Fox-Setonwith food and lodging and such a wardrobe as would be just sufficientcredit to her more fortunate acquaintances. She worked hard to attainthis modest end and was quite satisfied. She found at the shops wherethe summer sales were being held a couple of cotton frocks to which herheight and her small, long waist gave an air of actual elegance. Asailor hat, with a smart ribbon and well-set quill, a few new triflesfor her neck, a bow, a silk handkerchief daringly knotted, and somefresh gloves, made her feel that she was sufficiently equipped. 

During her last expedition to the sales she came upon a nice white duckcoat and skirt which she contrived to buy as a present for Jane. It wasnecessary to count over the contents of her purse very carefully and togive up the purchase of a slim umbrella she wanted, but she did itcheerfully. If she had been a rich woman she would have given presentsto every one she knew, and it was actually a luxury to her to be able todo something for the Cupps, who, she always felt, were continuallygiving her more than she paid for. The care they took of her small room, the fresh hot tea they managed to have ready when she came in, the pennybunch of daffodils they sometimes put on her table, were kindnesses, andshe was grateful for them. "I am very much obliged to you, Jane, " shesaid to the girl, when she got into the four-wheeled cab on the eventfulday of her journey to Mallowe. "I don't know what I should have donewithout you, I'm sure. I feel so smart in my dress now that you havealtered it. If Lady Maria's maid ever thinks of leaving her, I am sure Icould recommend you for her place. "

Chapter Two

There were other visitors to Mallowe Court travelling by the 2:30 fromPaddington, but they were much smarter people than Miss Fox-Seton, andthey were put into a first-class carriage by a footman with a cockadeand a long drab coat. Emily, who traveled third with some workmen withbundles, looked out of her window as they passed, and might possiblyhave breathed a faint sigh if she had not felt in such buoyant spirits. She had put on her revived brown skirt and a white linen blouse with abrown dot on it. A soft brown silk tie was knotted smartly under herfresh collar, and she wore her new sailor hat. Her gloves were brown, and so was her parasol. She looked nice and taut and fresh, but notablyinexpensive. The people who went to sales and bought things at three andeleven or "four-three" a yard would have been able add her up and workout her total. But there would be no people capable of the calculationat Mallowe. Even the servants' hall was likely to know less of pricesthan this one guest did. The people the drab-coated footman escorted tothe first-class carriage were a mother and daughter. The mother hadregular little features, and would have been pretty if she had not beenmuch too plump. She wore an extremely smart travelling-dress and awonderful dust-cloak of cool, pale, thin silk. She was not an elegantperson, but her appointments were luxurious and self-indulgent. Herdaughter was pretty, and had a slim, swaying waist, soft pink cheeks, and a pouting mouth. Her large picture-hat of pale-blue straw, with itsbig gauze bow and crushed roses, had a slightly exaggerated Parisianair. 

"It is a little too picturesque, " Emily thought; "but how lovely shelooks in it! I suppose it was so becoming she could not help buying it. I'm sure it's Virot. "

As she was looking at the girl admiringly, a man passed her window. Hewas a tall man with a square face. As he passed close to Emily, hestared through her head as if she had been transparent or invisible. Hegot into the smoking-carriage next to her. 

When the train arrived at Mallowe station, he was one of the firstpersons who got out. Two of Lady Maria's men were waiting on theplatform. Emily recognised their liveries. One met the tall man, touching his hat, and followed him to a high cart, in the shafts ofwhich a splendid iron-gray mare was fretting and dancing. In a fewmoments the arrival was on the high seat, the footman behind, and themare speeding up the road. Miss Fox-Seton found herself following thesecond footman and the mother and daughter, who were being taken to thelandau waiting outside the station. The footman piloted them, merelytouching his hat quickly to Emily, being fully aware that she could takecare of herself. 

This she did promptly, looking after her box, and seeing it safe in theMallowe omnibus. When she reached the landau, the two other visitorswere in it. She got in, and in entire contentment sat down with her backto the horses. 

The mother and daughter wore for a few minutes a somewhat uneasy air. They were evidently sociable persons, but were not quite sure how tobegin a conversation with an as yet unintroduced lady who was going tostay at the country house to which they were themselves invited. 

Emily herself solved the problem, producing her commonplace with afriendly tentative smile. 

"Isn't it a lovely country?" she said. 

"It's perfect, " answered the mother. "I've never visited Europe before, and the English country seems to me just exquisite. We have a summerplace in America, but the country is quite different. "

She was good-natured and disposed to talk, and, with Emily Fox-Seton'sgenial assistance, conversation flowed. Before they were half-way toMallowe, it had revealed itself that they were from Cincinnati, andafter a winter spent in Paris, largely devoted to visits to Paquin, Doucet, and Virot, they had taken a house in Mayfair for the season. Their name was Brooke. Emily thought she remembered hearing of them aspeople who spent a great deal of money and went incessantly to parties, always in new and lovely clothes. The girl had been presented by theAmerican minister, and had had a sort of success because she dressed anddanced exquisitely. She was the kind of American girl who ended bymarrying a title. She had sparkling eyes and a delicate tip-tilted nose. But even Emily guessed that she was an astute little person. 

"Have you ever been to Mallowe Court before?" she inquired. 

"No; and I am _so_ looking forward to it. It is so beautiful. "

"Do you know Lady Maria very well?"

"I've known her about three years. She has been very kind to me. "

"Well, I shouldn't have taken her for a particularly kind person. She'stoo sharp. "

Emily amiably smiled. "She's so clever, " she replied. 

"Do you know the Marquis of Walderhurst?" asked Mrs. Brooke. 

"No, " answered Miss Fox-Seton. She had no part in that portion of LadyMaria's life which was illumined by cousins who were marquises. LordWalderhurst did not drop in to afternoon tea. He kept himself forspecial dinner-parties. 

"Did you see the man who drove away in the high cart?" Mrs. Brookecontinued, with a touch of fevered interest. "Cora thought it must bethe marquis. The servant who met him wore the same livery as the man upthere"--with a nod toward the box. 

"It was one of Lady Maria's servants, " said Emily; "I have seen him inSouth Audley Street. And Lord Walderhurst was to be at Mallowe. LadyMaria mentioned it. "

"There, mother!" exclaimed Cora. 

"Well, of course if he is to be there, it will make it interesting, "returned her mother, in a tone in which lurked an admission of relief. Emily wondered if she had wanted to go somewhere else and had beenfirmly directed toward Mallowe by her daughter. 

"We heard a great deal of him in London this season, " Mrs. Brooks wenton. 

Miss Cora Brooke laughed. 

"We heard that at least half a dozen people were determined to marryhim, " she remarked with pretty scorn. "I should think that to meet agirl who was indifferent might be good for him. "

"Don't be too indifferent, Cora, " said her mother, with ingenuousineptness. 

It was a very stupid bit of revelation, and Miss Brooke's eyes flashed. If Emily Fox-Seton had been a sharp woman, she would have observed that, if the _rôle_ of indifferent and piquant young person could be madedangerous to Lord Walderhurst, it would be made so during this visit. The man was in peril from this beauty from Cincinnati and her ratherindiscreet mother, though upon the whole, the indiscreet maternal parentmight unconsciously form his protection. 

But Emily only laughed amiably, as at a humorous remark. She was readyto accept almost anything as humour. 

"Well, he _would_ be a great match for any girl, " she said. "He is sorich, you know. He is very rich. "

When they reached Mallowe, and were led out upon the lawn, where the teawas being served under embowering trees, they found a group of guestseating little hot cakes and holding teacups in their hands. There wereseveral young women, and one of them--a very tall, very fair girl, withlarge eyes as blue as forget-me-nots, and with a lovely, limp, and longblue frock of the same shade--had been one of the beauties of the pastseason. She was a Lady Agatha Slade, and Emily began to admire her atonce. She felt her to be a sort of added boon bestowed by kind Fate uponherself. It was so delightful that she should be of this particularhouse-party--this lovely creature, whom she had only known previouslythrough pictures in ladies' illustrated papers. If it should occur toher to wish to become the Marchioness of Walderhurst, what couldpossibly prevent the consummation of her desire? Surely not LordWalderhurst himself, if he was human. She was standing, leaning lightlyagainst the trunk of an ilex-tree, and a snow-white Borzoi was standingclose to her, resting his long, delicate head against her gown, encouraging the caresses of her fair, stroking hand. She was in thisattractive pose when Lady Maria turned in her seat and said:

"There's Walderhurst. "

The man who had driven himself over from the station in the cart wascoming towards them across the grass. He was past middle life and plain, but was of good height and had an air. It was perhaps, on the whole, rather an air of knowing what he wanted. 

Emily Fox-Seton, who by that time was comfortably seated in a cushionedbasket-chair, sipping her own cup of tea, gave him the benefit of thedoubt when she wondered if he was not really distinguished andaristocratic-looking. He was really neither, but was well-built andwell-dressed, and had good grayish-brown eyes, about the colour of hisgrayish-brown hair. Among these amiably worldly people, who were not inthe least moved by an altruistic prompting, Emily's greatest capitalconsisted in the fact that she did not expect to be taken the leastnotice of. She was not aware that it was her capital, because the factwas so wholly a part of the simple contentedness of her nature that shehad not thought about it at all. The truth was that she found all herentertainment and occupation in being an audience or a spectator. It didnot occur to her to notice that, when the guests were presented to him, Lord Walderhurst barely glanced at her surface as he bowed, and couldscarcely be said to forget her existence the next second, because he hadhardly gone to the length of recognising it. As she enjoyed herextremely nice cup of tea and little buttered scone, she also enjoyedlooking at his Lordship discreetly, and trying to make an innocentsumming up of his mental attitudes. 

Lady Maria seemed to like him and to be pleased to see him. He himselfseemed, in an undemonstrative way, to like Lady Maria. He also wasevidently glad to get his tea, and enjoyed it as he sat at his cousin'sside. He did not pay very much attention to any one else. Emily wasslightly disappointed to see that he did not glance at the beauty andthe Borzoi more than twice, and then that his examination seemed as muchfor the Borzoi as for the beauty. She could not help also observing thatsince he had joined the circle it had become more animated, so far atleast as the female members were concerned. She could not helpremembering Lady Maria's remark about the effect he produced on womenwhen he entered a room. Several interesting or sparkling speeches hadalready been made. There was a little more laughter and chattiness, which somehow it seemed to be quite open to Lord Walderhurst to enjoy, though it was not exactly addressed to him. Miss Cora Brooke, however, devoted herself to a young man in white flannels with an air of tennisabout him. She sat a little apart and talked to him in a voice softenough to even exclude Lord Walderhurst. Presently she and her companiongot up and sauntered away. They went down the broad flight of ancientstone steps which led to the tennis-court, lying in full view below thelawn. There they began to play tennis. Miss Brooke skimmed and dartedabout like a swallow. The swirl of her lace petticoats was mostattractive. 

"That girl ought not to play tennis in shoes with ridiculous heels, "remarked Lord Walderhurst. "She will spoil the court. "

Lady Maria broke into a little chuckle. 

"She wanted to play at this particular moment, " she said. "And as shehas only just arrived, it did not occur to her to come out to tea intennis-shoes. "

"She'll spoil the court all the same, " said the marquis. "What clothes!It's amazing how girls dress now. "

"I wish I had such clothes, " answered Lady Maria, and she chuckledagain. "She's got beautiful feet. "

"She's got Louis Quinze heels, " returned his Lordship. 

At all events, Emily Fox-Seton thought Miss Brooke seemed to intend torather keep out of his way and to practise no delicate allurements. Whenher tennis-playing was at an end, she sauntered about the lawn andterraces with her companion, tilting her parasol prettily over hershoulder, so that it formed an entrancing background to her face andhead. She seemed to be entertaining the young man. His big laugh and thesilver music of her own lighter merriment rang out a littletantalisingly. 

"I wonder what Cora is saying, " said Mrs. Brooke to the group at large. "She always makes men laugh so. "

Emily Fox-Seton felt an interest herself, the merriment sounded soattractive. She wondered if perhaps to a man who had been so much runafter a girl who took no notice of his presence and amused other men somuch might not assume an agreeable aspect. 

But he took more notice of Lady Agatha Slade than of any one else thatevening. She was placed next to him at dinner, and she really wasradiant to look upon in palest green chiffon. She had an exquisitelittle head, with soft hair piled with wondrous lightness upon it, andher long little neck swayed like the stem of a flower. She was lovelyenough to arouse in the beholder's mind the anticipation of her beingsilly, but she was not silly at all. 

Lady Maria commented upon that fact to Miss Fox-Seton when they met inher bedroom late that night. Lady Maria liked to talk and be talked tofor half an hour after the day was over, and Emily Fox-Seton's admiringinterest in all she said she found at once stimulating and soothing. HerLadyship was an old woman who indulged and inspired herself with anEpicurean wisdom. Though she would not have stupid people about her, shedid not always want very clever ones. 

"They give me too much exercise, " she said. "The epigrammatic ones keepme always jumping over fences. Besides, I like to make all the epigramsmyself. "

Emily Fox-Seton struck a happy mean, and she was a genuine admirer. Shewas intelligent enough not to spoil the point of an epigram when sherepeated it, and she might be relied upon to repeat it and give all theglory to its originator. Lady Maria knew there were people who, hearingyour good things, appropriated them without a scruple. To-night she saida number of good things to Emily in summing up her guests and theircharacteristics. 

"Walderhurst has been to me three times when I made sure that he wouldnot escape without a new marchioness attached to him. I should think hewould take one to put an end to the annoyance of dangling unplucked uponthe bough. A man in his position, if he has character enough to choose, can prevent even his wife's being a nuisance. He can give her a goodhouse, hang the family diamonds on her, supply a decent elderly woman asa sort of lady-in-waiting and turn her into the paddock to kick up herheels within the limits of decorum. His own rooms can be sacred to him. He has his clubs and his personal interests. Husbands and wives annoyeach other very little in these days. Married life has becomecomparatively decent. "

"I should think his wife might be very happy, " commented Emily. "Helooks very kind. "

"I don't know whether he is kind or not. It has never been necessary forme to borrow money from him. "

Lady Maria was capable of saying odd things in her refined littledrawling voice. 

"He's more respectable than most men of his age. The diamonds aremagnificent, and he not only has three superb places, but has moneyenough to keep them up. Now, there are three aspirants at Mallowe in thepresent party. Of course you can guess who they are, Emily?"

Emily Fox-Seton almost blushed. She felt a little indelicate. 

"Lady Agatha would be very suitable, " she said. "And Mrs. Ralph is veryclever, of course. And Miss Brooke is really pretty. "

Lady Maria gave vent to her small chuckle. 

"Mrs. Ralph is the kind of woman who means business. She'll cornerWalderhurst and talk literature and roll her eyes at him until he hatesher. These writing women, who are intensely pleased with themselves, ifthey have some good looks into the bargain, believe themselves capableof marrying any one. Mrs. Ralph has fine eyes and rolls them. Walderhurst won't be ogled. The Brooke girl is sharper than Ralph. Shewas very sharp this afternoon. She began at once. "

"I--I didn't see her"--wondering. 

"Yes, you did; but you didn't understand. The tennis, and the laughingwith young Heriot on the terrace! She is going to be the piquant youngwoman who aggravates by indifference, and disdains rank and splendour;the kind of girl who has her innings in novelettes--but not out of them. The successful women are those who know how to toady in the right wayand not obviously. Walderhurst has far too good an opinion of himself tobe attracted by a girl who is making up to another man: he's notfive-and-twenty. "

Emily Fox-Seton was reminded, in spite of herself, of Mrs. Brooke'splaint: "Don't be too indifferent, Cora. " She did not want to recall itexactly, because she thought the Brookes agreeable and would havepreferred to think them disinterested. But, after all, she reflected, how natural that a girl who was so pretty should feel that the Marquisof Walderhurst represented prospects. Chiefly, however, she was filledwith admiration at Lady Maria's cleverness. 

"How wonderfully you observe everything, Lady Maria!" she exclaimed. "How wonderfully!"

"I have had forty-seven seasons in London. That's a good many, you know. Forty-seven seasons of débutantes and mothers tend toward enlightenment. Now there is Agatha Slade, poor girl! She's of a kind I know by heart. With birth and beauty, she is perfectly helpless. Her people are poorenough to be entitled to aid from the Charity Organisation, and theyhave had the indecency to present themselves with six daughters--six!All with delicate skins and delicate little noses and heavenly eyes. Most men can't afford them, and they can't afford most men. As soon asAgatha begins to go off a little, she will have to step aside, if shehas not married. The others must be allowed their chance. Agatha has hadthe advertising of the illustrated papers this season, and she has gonewell. In these days a new beauty is advertised like a new soap. Theyhaven't given them sandwich-men in the streets, but that is about allthat has been denied them. But Agatha has not had any special offer, andI know both she and her mother are a little frightened. Alix must comeout next season, and they can't afford frocks for two. Agatha will haveto be sent to their place in Ireland, and to be sent to Castle Clare isalmost like being sent to the Bastille. She'll never get out alive. She'll have to stay there and see herself grow thin instead of slim, andcolourless instead of fair. Her little nose will grow sharp, and shewill lose her hair by degrees. "

"Oh!" Emily Fox-Seton gave forth sympathetically. "What a pity thatwould be! I thought--I really thought--Lord Walderhurst seemed to admireher. "

"Oh, every one admires her, for that matter; but if they go no furtherthat will not save her from the Bastille, poor thing. There, Emily; wemust go to bed. We have talked enough. "

Chapter Three

To awaken in a still, delicious room, with the summer morning sunshinebreaking softly into it through leafy greenness, was a delightful thingto Miss Fox-Seton, who was accustomed to opening her eyes upon fourwalls covered with cheap paper, to the sound of outside hammerings, andthe rattle and heavy roll of wheels. In a building at the back of herbed-sitting-room there lived a man whose occupation, beginning early inthe morning, involved banging of a persistent nature. 

She awakened to her first day at Mallowe, stretching herselfluxuriously, with the smile of a child. She was so thankful for thesoftness of her lavender-fragrant bed, and so delighted with the lovelyfreshness of her chintz-hung room. As she lay upon her pillow, she couldsee the boughs of the trees, and hear the chatter of darting starlings. When her morning tea was brought, it seemed like nectar to her. She wasa perfectly healthy woman, with a palate as unspoiled as that of asix-year-old child in the nursery. Her enjoyment of all things was sonormal as to be in her day and time an absolute abnormality. 

She rose and dressed at once, eager for the open air and sunshine. Shewas out upon the lawn before any one else but the Borzoi, which rosefrom beneath a tree and came with stately walk toward her. The air wasexquisite, the broad, beautiful stretch of view lay warm in the sun, themasses of flowers on the herbaceous borders showed leaves andflower-cups adorned with glittering drops of dew. She walked across thespacious sweep of short-cropped sod, and gazed enraptured at the countryspread out below. She could have kissed the soft white sheep dotting thefields and lying in gentle, huddled groups under the trees. 

"The darlings!" she said, in a little, effusive outburst. 

She talked to the dog and fondled him. He seemed to understand her mood, and pressed close against her gown when she stopped. They walkedtogether about the gardens, and presently picked up an exuberantretriever, which bounded and wriggled and at once settled into a steadytrot beside them. Emily adored the flowers as she walked by their beds, and at intervals stopped to bury her face in bunches of spicy things. She was so happy that the joy in her hazel eyes was pathetic. 

She was startled, as she turned into a rather narrow rose-walk, to seeLord Walderhurst coming toward her. He looked exceedingly clean in hisfresh light knickerbocker suit, which was rather becoming to him. Agardener was walking behind, evidently gathering roses for him, which heput into a shallow basket. Emily Fox-Seton cast about for a suitableremark to make, if he should chance to stop to speak to her. Sheconsoled herself with the thought that there were things she really_wanted_ to say about the beauty of the gardens, and certain clumps ofheavenly-blue campanulas, which seemed made a feature of in theherbaceous borders. It was so much nicer not to be obliged to inventobservations. But his lordship did not stop to speak to her. He wasinterested in his roses (which, she heard afterward, were to be sent totown to an invalid friend), and as she drew near, he turned aside tospeak to the gardener. As Emily was just passing him when he turnedagain, and as the passage was narrow, he found himself unexpectedlygazing into her face. 

Being nearly the same height, they were so near each other that it was alittle awkward. 

"I beg pardon, " he said, stepping back a pace and lifting his straw hat. 

But he did not say, "I beg pardon, Miss Fox-Seton, " and Emily knew thathe had not recognised her again, and had not the remotest idea who shewas or where she came from. 

She passed him with her agreeable, friendly smile, and there returned toher mind Lady Maria's remarks of the night before. 

"To think that if he married poor pretty Lady Agatha she will bemistress of three places quite as beautiful as Mallowe, three lovely oldhouses, three sets of gardens, with thousands of flowers to bloom everyyear! How nice it would be for her! She is so lovely that it seems as ifhe _must_ fall in love with her. Then, if she was Marchioness ofWalderhurst, she could do so much for her sisters. "

After breakfast she spent her morning in doing a hundred things for LadyMaria. She wrote notes for her, and helped her to arrange plans for theentertainment of her visitors. She was very busy and happy. In theafternoon she drove across the moor to Maundell, a village on the otherside of it. She really went on an errand for her hostess, but as she wasfond of driving and the brown cob was a beauty, she felt that she wasbeing given a treat on a level with the rest of her ladyship's generoushospitalities. She drove well, and her straight, strong figure showed tomuch advantage on the high seat of the cart. Lord Walderhurst himselfcommented on her as he saw her drive away. 

"She has a nice, flat, straight back, that woman, " he remarked to LadyMaria. "What is her name? One never hears people's names when one isintroduced. "

"Her name is Emily Fox-Seton, " her ladyship answered, "and she's a nicecreature. "

"That would be an inhuman thing to say to most men, but if one is athoroughly selfish being, and has some knowledge of one's own character, one sees that a nice creature might be a nice companion. "

"You are quite right, " was Lady Maria's reply, as she held up herlorgnette and watched the cart spin down the avenue. "I am selfishmyself, and I realise that is the reason why Emily Fox-Seton is becomingthe lodestar of my existence. There is such comfort in being pandered toby a person who is not even aware that she is pandering. She doesn'tsuspect that she is entitled to thanks for it. "

That evening Mrs. Ralph came shining to dinner in amber satin, whichseemed to possess some quality of stimulating her to brilliance. She waswitty enough to collect an audience, and Lord Walderhurst was drawnwithin it. This was Mrs. Ralph's evening. When the men returned to thedrawing-room, she secured his lordship at once and managed to keep him. She was a woman who could talk pretty well, and perhaps Lord Walderhurstwas amused. Emily Fox-Seton was not quite sure that he was, but at leasthe listened. Lady Agatha Slade looked a little listless and pale. Lovelyas she was, she did not always collect an audience, and this evening shesaid she had a headache. She actually crossed the room, and taking aseat by Miss Emily Fox-Seton, began to talk to her about Lady Maria'scharity-knitting which she had taken up. Emily was so gratified that shefound conversation easy. She did not realise that at that particularmoment she was a most agreeable and comforting companion for AgathaSlade. She had heard so much of her beauty during the season, andremembered so many little things that a girl who was a thought depressedmight like to hear referred to again. Sometimes to Agatha the ballswhere people had collected in groups to watch her dancing, theflattering speeches she had heard, the dazzling hopes which had beenraised, seemed a little unreal, as if, after all, they could have beenonly dreams. This was particularly so, of course, when life had dulledfor a while and the atmosphere of unpaid bills became heavy at home. Itwas so to-day, because the girl had received a long, anxious letter fromher mother, in which much was said of the importance of an earlypreparation for the presentation of Alix, who had really been kept backa year, and was in fact nearer twenty than nineteen. 

"If we were not in Debrett and Burke, one might be reserved about suchmatters, " poor Lady Claraway wrote; "but what is one to do when all theworld can buy one's daughters' ages at the book-sellers'?"

Miss Fox-Seton had seen Lady Agatha's portrait at the Academy and theway in which people had crowded about it. She had chanced to hearcomments also, and she agreed with a number of persons who had notthought the picture did the original justice. 

"Sir Bruce Norman was standing by me with an elderly lady the first timeI saw it, " she said, as she turned a new row of the big white-wool scarfher hostess was knitting for a Deep-Sea Fisherman's Charity. "He reallylooked quite annoyed. I heard him say: 'It is not good at all. She isfar, far lovelier. Her eyes are like blue flowers. ' The moment I sawyou, I found myself looking at your eyes. I hope I didn't seem rude. "

Lady Agatha smiled. She had flushed delicately, and took up in her slimhand a skein of the white wool. 

"There are some people who are never rude, " she sweetly said, "and youare one of them, I am sure. That knitting looks nice. I wonder if Icould make a comforter for a deep-sea fisherman. "

"If it would amuse you to try, " Emily answered, "I will begin one foryou. Lady Maria has several pairs of wooden needles. Shall I?"

"Do, please. How kind of you!"

In a pause of her conversation, Mrs. Ralph, a little later, lookedacross the room at Emily Fox-Seton bending over Lady Agatha and theknitting, as she gave her instructions. 

"What a good-natured creature that is!" she said. 

Lord Walderhurst lifted his monocle and inserted it in his unilluminedeye. He also looked across the room. Emily wore the black evening dresswhich gave such opportunities to her square white shoulders and firmcolumn of throat; the country air and sun had deepened the colour on hercheek, and the light of the nearest lamp fell kindly on the big twist ofher nut-brown hair, and burnished it. She looked soft and warm, and sogenerously interested in her pupil's progress that she was rather sweet. 

Lord Walderhurst simply looked at her. He was a man of but few words. Women who were sprightly found him somewhat unresponsive. In fact, hewas aware that a man in his position need not exert himself. The womenthemselves would talk. They wanted to talk because they wanted him tohear them. 

Mrs. Ralph talked. 

"She is the most primeval person I know. She accepts her fate without atrace of resentment; she simply accepts it. "

"What is her fate?" asked Lord Walderhurst, still gazing in hisunbiassed manner through his monocle, and not turning his head as hespoke. 

"It is her fate to be a woman who is perfectly well born, and who is aspenniless as a charwoman, and works like one. She is at the beck andcall of any one who will give her an odd job to earn a meal with. Thatis one of the new ways women have found of making a living. "

"Good skin, " remarked Lord Walderhurst, irrelevantly. "Good hair--quitea lot. "

"She has some of the nicest blood in England in her veins, and sheengaged my last cook for me, " said Mrs. Ralph. 

"Hope she was a good cook. "

"Very. Emily Fox-Seton has a faculty of finding decent people. I believeit is because she is so decent herself"--with a little laugh. 

"Looks quite decent, " commented Walderhurst. The knitting was getting onfamously. 

"It was odd you should see Sir Bruce Norman that day, " Agatha Slade wassaying. "It must have been just before he was called away to India. "

"It was. He sailed the next day. I happen to know, because some friendsof mine met me only a few yards from your picture and began to talkabout him. I had not known before that he was so rich. I had not heardabout his collieries in Lancashire. Oh!"--opening her big eyes inheart-felt yearning, --"how I wish I owned a colliery! It must be so_nice_ to be rich!"

"I never was rich, " answered Lady Agatha, with a bitter little sigh. "Iknow it is hideous to be poor. "

"_I_ never was rich, " said Emily, "and I never shall be. You"--a littleshyly--"are so different. "

Lady Agatha flushed delicately again. 

Emily Fox-Seton made a gentle joke. "You have eyes like blue flowers, "she said. Lady Agatha lifted the eyes like blue flowers, and they werepathetic. 

"Oh!" she gave forth almost impetuously, "sometimes it seems as if itdoes not matter whether one has eyes or not. "

It was a pleasure to Emily Fox-Seton to realise that after this thebeauty seemed to be rather drawn toward her. Their acquaintance becamealmost a sort of intimacy over the wool scarf for the deep-seafisherman, which was taken up and laid down, and even carried out on thelawn and left under the trees for the footmen to restore when theybrought in the rugs and cushions. Lady Maria was amusing herself withthe making of knitted scarfs and helmets just now, and bits of white orgray knitting were the fashion at Mallowe. Once Agatha brought hers toEmily's room in the afternoon to ask that a dropped stitch might betaken up, and this established a sort of precedent. Afterward they beganto exchange visits. 

The strenuousness of things was becoming, in fact, almost too much forLady Agatha. Most unpleasant things were happening at home, andoccasionally Castle Clare loomed up grayly in the distance like aspectre. Certain tradespeople who ought, in Lady Claraway's opinion, tohave kept quiet and waited in patience until things became better, werebecoming hideously persistent. In view of the fact that Alix's nextseason must be provided for, it was most awkward. A girl could not bepresented and properly launched in the world, in a way which would giveher a proper chance, without expenditure. To the Claraways expendituremeant credit, and there were blots as of tears on the letters in whichLady Claraway reiterated that the tradespeople were behaving horribly. Sometimes, she said once in desperation, things looked as if they wouldall be obliged to shut themselves up in Castle Clare to retrench; andthen what was to become of Alix and her season? And there were Millicentand Hilda and Eve. 

More than once there was the mist of tears in the flower-blue eyes whenLady Agatha came to talk. Confidence between two women establishesitself through processes at once subtle and simple. Emily Fox-Setoncould not have told when she first began to know that the beauty wastroubled and distressed; Lady Agatha did not know when she first slippedinto making little frank speeches about herself; but these things cameabout. Agatha found something like comfort in her acquaintance with thebig, normal, artless creature--something which actually raised herspirits when she was depressed. Emily Fox-Seton paid constant kindlytribute to her charms, and helped her to believe in them. When she waswith her, Agatha always felt that she really was lovely, after all, andthat loveliness was a great capital. Emily admired and revered it so, and evidently never dreamed of doubting its omnipotence. She used totalk as if any girl who was a beauty was a potential duchess. In fact, this was a thing she quite ingenuously believed. She had not lived in aworld where marriage was a thing of romance, and, for that matter, neither had Agatha. It was nice if a girl liked the man who married her, but if he was a well-behaved, agreeable person, of good means, it wasnatural that she would end by liking him sufficiently; and to beprovided for comfortably or luxuriously for life, and not left uponone's own hands or one's parents', was a thing to be thankful for in anycase. It was such a relief to everybody to know that a girl was"settled, " and especially it was such a relief to the girl herself. Evennovels and plays were no longer fairy-stories of entrancing young menand captivating young women who fell in love with each other in thefirst chapter, and after increasingly picturesque incidents were marriedin the last one in the absolute surety of being blissfully happyforevermore. Neither Lady Agatha nor Emily had been brought up on thisorder of literature, nor in an atmosphere in which it was acceptedwithout reservation. 

They had both had hard lives, and knew what lay before them. Agatha knewshe must make a marriage or fade out of existence in prosaic andnarrowed dulness. Emily knew that there was no prospect for her ofdesirable marriage at all. She was too poor, too entirely unsupported bysocial surroundings, and not sufficiently radiant to catch the rovingeye. To be able to maintain herself decently, to be given an occasionaltreat by her more fortunate friends, and to be allowed by fortune topresent to the face of the world the appearance of a woman who was not apauper, was all she could expect. But she felt that Lady Agatha had theright to more. She did not reason the matter out and ask herself why shehad the right to more, but she accepted the proposition as a fact. Shewas ingenuously interested in her fate, and affectionately sympathetic. She used to look at Lord Walderhurst quite anxiously at times when hewas talking to the girl. An anxious mother could scarcely have regardedhim with a greater desire to analyse his sentiments. The match would besuch a fitting one. He would make such an excellent husband--and therewere three places, and the diamonds were magnificent. Lady Maria haddescribed to her a certain tiara which she frequently pictured toherself as glittering above Agatha's exquisite low brow. It would beinfinitely more becoming to her than to Miss Brooke or Mrs. Ralph, though either of them would have worn it with spirit. She could not helpfeeling that both Mrs. Ralph's brilliancy and Miss Brooke's insouciantprettiness were not unworthy of being counted in the running, but LadyAgatha seemed somehow so much more completely the thing wanted. She wasanxious that she should always look her best, and when she knew thatdisturbing letters were fretting her, and saw that they made her lookpale and less luminous, she tried to raise her spirits. 

"Suppose we take a brisk walk, " she would say, "and then you might try alittle nap. You look a little tired. "

"Oh, " said Agatha one day, "how kind you are to me! I believe youactually care about my complexion--about my looking well. "

"Lord Walderhurst said to me the other day, " was Emily's angelicallytactful answer, "that you were the only woman he had ever seen who_always_ looked lovely. "

"Did he?" exclaimed Lady Agatha, and flushed sweetly. "Once Sir BruceNorman actually said that to me. I told him it was the nicest thing thatcould be said to a woman. It is all the nicer"--with a sigh--"because itisn't _really_ true. "

"I am sure Lord Walderhurst believed it true, " Emily said. "He is not aman who talks, you know. He is very serious and dignified. " She hadherself a reverence and admiration for Lord Walderhurst bordering ontender awe. He was indeed a well-mannered person, of whom painful thingswere not said. He also conducted himself well toward his tenantry, andwas patron of several notable charities. To the unexacting andinnocently respectful mind of Emily Fox-Seton this was at onceimpressive and attractive. She knew, though not intimately, many noblepersonages quite unlike him. She was rather early Victorian andtouchingly respectable. 

"I have been crying, " confessed Lady Agatha. 

"I was afraid so, Lady Agatha, " said Emily. 

"Things are getting hopeless in Curzon Street. I had a letter fromMillicent this morning. She is next in age to Alix, and she says--oh, anumber of things. When girls see everything passing by them, it makesthem irritable. Millicent is seventeen, and she is too lovely. Her hairis like a red-gold cloak, and her eyelashes are twice as long as mine. "She sighed again, and her lips, which were like curved rose-petals, unconcealedly quivered. "They were _all_ so cross about Sir Bruce Normangoing to India, " she added. 

"He will come back, " said Emily, benignly; "but he may be too late. Hashe"--ingenuously--"seen Alix?"

Agatha flushed oddly this time. Her delicate skin registered everyemotion exquisitely. "He has seen her, but she was in the school-room, and--I don't think--"

She did not finish, but stopped uneasily, and sat and gazed out of theopen window into the park. She did not look happy. 

The episode of Sir Bruce Norman was brief and even vague. It had begunwell. Sir Bruce had met the beauty at a ball, and they had dancedtogether more than once. Sir Bruce had attractions other than his oldbaronetcy and his coal-mines. He was a good-looking person, with alaughing brown eye and a nice wit. He had danced charmingly and paid gaycompliments. He would have done immensely well. Agatha had liked him. Emily sometimes thought she had liked him very much. Her mother hadliked him and had thought he was attracted. But after a number ofoccasions of agreeable meetings, they had encountered each other on thelawn at Goodwood, and he had announced that he was going to India. Forthwith he had gone, and Emily had gathered that somehow Lady Agathahad been considered somewhat to blame. Her people were not vulgar enoughto express this frankly, but she had felt it. Her younger sisters had, upon the whole, made her feel it most. It had been borne in upon herthat if Alix, or Millicent with the red-gold cloak, or even Eve, who wasa gipsy, had been given such a season and such Doucet frocks, they wouldhave combined them with their wonderful complexions and lovely littlechins and noses in such a manner as would at least have preventeddesirable acquaintances from feeling free to take P. And O. Steamers toBombay. 

In her letter of this morning, Millicent's temper had indeed gotsomewhat the better of her taste and breeding, and lovely Agatha hadcried large tears. So it was comforting to be told that Lord Walderhursthad said such an extremely amiable thing. If he was not young, he wasreally _very_ nice, and there were exalted persons who absolutely hadrather a fad for him. It would be exceptionally brilliant. 

The brisk walk was taken, and Lady Agatha returned from it blooming. Shewas adorable at dinner, and in the evening gathered an actual courtabout her. She was all in pink, and a wreath of little pink wild roseslay close about her head, making her, with her tall young slimness, looklike a Botticelli nymph. Emily saw that Lord Walderhurst looked at her agreat deal. He sat on an extraordinarily comfortable corner seat, andstared through his monocle. 

Lady Maria always gave her Emily plenty to do. She had a nice taste infloral arrangement, and early in her visit it had fallen into her handsas a duty to "do" the flowers. 

The next morning she was in the gardens early, gathering roses with thedew on them, and was in the act of cutting some adorable "Mrs. SharmanCrawfords, " when she found it behoved her to let down her carefullytucked up petticoats, as the Marquis of Walderhurst was walking straighttoward her. An instinct told her that he wanted to talk to her aboutLady Agatha Slade. 

"You get up earlier than Lady Agatha, " he remarked, after he had wishedher "Good-morning. "

"She is oftener invited to the country than I am, " she answered. "When Ihave a country holiday, I want to spend every moment of it out of doors. And the mornings are so lovely. They are not like this in MortimerStreet. "

"Do you live in Mortimer Street?"

"Yes. "

"Do you like it?"

"I am very comfortable. I am fortunate in having a nice landlady. Sheand her daughter are very kind to me. "

The morning was indeed heavenly. The masses of flowers were drenchedwith dew, and the already hot sun was drawing fragrance from them andfilling the warm air with it. The marquis, with hia monocle fixed, looked up into the cobalt-blue sky and among the trees, where awood-dove or two cooed with musical softness. 

"Yes, " he observed, with a glance which swept the scene, "it isdifferent from Mortimer Street, I suppose. Are you fond of the country?"

"Oh, yes, " sighed Emily; "oh, yes!"

She was not a specially articulate person. She could not have conveyedin words all that her "Oh, yes!" really meant of simple love for and joyin rural sights and sounds and scents. But when she lifted her big kindhazel eyes to him, the earnestness of her emotion made them pathetic, asthe unspeakableness of her pleasures often did. 

Lord Walderhurst gazed at her through the monocle with an air hesometimes had of taking her measure without either unkindliness orparticular interest. 

"Is Lady Agatha fond of the country?" he inquired. 

"She is fond of everything that is beautiful, " she replied. "Her natureis as lovely as her face, I think. "

"Is it?"

Emily walked a step or two away to a rose climbing up the gray-red wall, and began to clip off blossoms, which tumbled sweetly into her basket. 

"She seems lovely in everything, " she said, "in disposition and mannerand--everything. She never seems to disappoint one or make mistakes. "

"You are fond of her?"

"She has been so kind to me. "

"You often say people are kind to you. "

Emily paused and felt a trifle confused. Realising that she was not aclever person, and being a modest one, she began to wonder if she wasgiven to a parrot-phrase which made her tiresome. She blushed up to herears. 

"People are kind, " she said hesitatingly. "I--you see, I have nothing togive, and I always seem to be receiving. "

"What luck!" remarked his lordship, calmly gazing at her. 

He made her feel rather awkward, and she was at once relieved and sorrywhen he walked away to join another early riser who had come out uponthe lawn. For some mysterious reason Emily Fox-Seton liked him. Perhapshis magnificence and the constant talk she had heard of him had warmedher imagination. He had never said anything particularly intelligent toher, but she felt as if he had. He was a rather silent man, but neverlooked stupid. He had made some good speeches in the House of Lords, notbrilliant, but sound and of a dignified respectability. He had alsowritten two pamphlets. Emily had an enormous respect for intellect, andfrequently, it must be admitted, for the thing which passed for it. Shewas not exacting. 

During her stay at Mallowe in the summer, Lady Maria always gave avillage treat. She had given it for forty years, and it was a livelyfunction. Several hundred wildly joyous village children were fed torepletion with exhilarating buns and cake, and tea in mugs, after whichthey ran races for prizes, and were entertained in various ways, withthe aid of such of the house-party as were benevolently inclined to makethemselves useful. 

Everybody was not so inclined, though people always thought the thingamusing. Nobody objected to looking on, and some were agreeablystimulated by the general sense of festivity. But Emily Fox-Seton wasfound by Lady Maria to be invaluable on this occasion. It was so easy, without the least sense of ill-feeling, to give her all the drudgery todo. There was plenty of drudgery, though it did not present itself toEmily Fox-Seton in that light. She no more realised that she was givingLady Maria a good deal for her money, so to speak, than she realisedthat her ladyship, though an amusing and delightful, was an absolutelyselfish and inconsiderate old woman. So long as Emily Fox-Seton did notseem obviously tired, it would not have occurred to Lady Maria that shecould be so; that, after all, her legs and arms were mere human fleshand blood, that her substantial feet were subject to the fatigueunending trudging to and fro induces. Her ladyship was simply delightedthat the preparations went so well, that she could turn to Emily forservice and always find her ready. Emily made lists and calculations, she worked out plans and made purchases. She interviewed the villagematrons who made the cake and buns, and boiled the tea in bags in acopper; she found the women who could be engaged to assist in cuttingcake and bread-and-butter and helping to serve it; she ordered theputting up of tents and forms and tables; the innumerable things to beremembered she called to mind. 

"Really, Emily, " said Lady Maria, "I don't know how I have done thisthing for forty years without you. I must always have you at Mallowe forthe treat. "

Emily was of the genial nature which rejoices upon even small occasions, and is invariably stimulated to pleasure by the festivities of others. The festal atmosphere was a delight to her. In her numberless errands tothe village, the sight of the excitement in the faces of the childrenshe passed on her way to this cottage and that filled her eyes withfriendly glee and wreathed her face with smiles. When she went into thecottage where the cake was being baked, children hovered about in groupsand nudged each other, giggling. They hung about, partly throughthrilled interest, and partly because their joy made them eager tocourtesy to her as she came out, the obeisance seeming to identify themeven more closely with the coming treat. They grinned and beamed rosily, and Emily smiled at them and nodded, uplifted by a pleasure almost asinfantile as their own. She was really enjoying herself so honestly thatshe did not realise how hard she worked during the days before thefestivity. She was really ingenious, and invented a number of newmethods of entertainment. It was she who, with the aid of a couple ofgardeners, transformed the tents into bowers of green boughs andarranged the decorations of the tables and the park gates. 

"What a lot of walking you do!" Lord Walderhurst said to her once, asshe passed the group on the lawn. "Do you know how many hours you havebeen on your feet to-day?"

"I like it, " she answered, and, as she hurried by, she saw that he wassitting a shade nearer to Lady Agatha than she had ever seen him sitbefore, and that Agatha, under a large hat of white gauze frills, waslooking like a seraph, so sweet and shining were her eyes, soflower-fair her face. She looked actually happy. 

"Perhaps he has been saying things, " Emily thought. "How happy she willbe! He has such a nice pair of eyes. He would make a woman very happy. "A faint sigh fluttered from her lips. She was beginning to be physicallytired, and was not yet quite aware of it. If she had not been physicallytired, she would not even vaguely have had, at this moment, recalled toher mind the fact that she was not of the women to whom "things" aresaid and to whom things happen. 

"Emily Fox-Seton, " remarked Lady Maria, fanning herself, as it wasfrightfully hot, "has the most admirable effect on me. She makes me feelgenerous. I should like to present her with the smartest things from thewardrobes of all my relations. "

"Do you give her clothes?" asked Walderhurst. 

"I haven't any to spare. But I know they would be useful to her. Thethings she wears are touching; they are so well contrived, and producesuch a decent effect with so little. "

Lord Walderhurst inserted his monocle and gazed after the straight, well-set-up back of the disappearing Miss Fox-Seton. 

"I think, " said Lady Agatha, gently, "that she is really handsome. "

"So she is, " admitted Walderhurst--"quite a good-looking woman. "

That night Lady Agatha repeated the amiability to Emily, whose gratefulamazement really made her blush. 

"Lord Walderhurst knows Sir Bruce Norman, " said Agatha. "Isn't itstrange? He spoke of him to me to-day. He says he is clever. "

"You had a nice talk this afternoon, hadn't you?" said Emily. "You bothlooked so--so--as if you were enjoying yourselves when I passed. "

"Did he look as if he were enjoying himself? He was very agreeable. Idid not know he could be so agreeable. "

"I have never seen him look as much pleased, " answered Emily Fox-Seton. "Though he always looks as if he liked talking to you, Lady Agatha. Thatlarge white gauze garden-hat"--reflectively--"is so _very_ becoming. "

"It was very expensive, " sighed lovely Agatha. "And they last such ashort time. Mamma said it really seemed almost criminal to buy it. "

"How delightful it will be, " remarked cheering Emily, "when--when youneed not think of things like that!"

"Oh!"--with another sigh, this time a catch of the breath, --"it would belike Heaven! People don't know; they think girls are frivolous when theycare, and that it isn't serious. But when one knows one _must_ havethings, --that they are like bread, --it is awful!"

"The things you wear really matter. " Emily was bringing all her powersto bear upon the subject, and with an anxious kindness which was quiteangelic. "Each dress makes you look like another sort of picture. Haveyou, "--contemplatively--"anything _quite_ different to wear to-night andto-morrow?"

"I have two evening dresses I have not worn here yet"--a littlehesitatingly. "I--well I saved them. One is a very thin black one withsilver on it. It has a trembling silver butterfly for the shoulder, andone for the hair. "

"Oh, put that on to-night!" said Emily, eagerly. "When you come down todinner you will look so--so new! I always think that to see a fairperson suddenly for the first time all in black gives one a kind ofdelighted start--though start isn't the word, quite. Do put it on. "

Lady Agatha put it on. Emily Fox-Seton came into her room to help to addthe last touches to her beauty before she went down to dinner. Shesuggested that the fair hair should be dressed even higher and morelightly than usual, so that the silver butterfly should poise the moreairily over the knot, with its quivering, outstretched wings. Sheherself poised the butterfly high upon the shoulder. 

"Oh, it is lovely!" she exclaimed, drawing back to gaze at the girl. "Dolet me go down a moment or so before you do, so that I can see you comeinto the room. "

She was sitting in a chair quite near Lord Walderhurst when her chargeentered. She saw him really give something quite like a start whenAgatha appeared. His monocle, which had been in his eye, fell out of it, and he picked it up by its thin cord and replaced it. 

"Psyche!" she heard him say in his odd voice, which seemed merely tomake a statement without committing him to an opinion--"Psyche!"

He did not say it to her or to any one else. It was simply a kind ofexclamation, --appreciative and perceptive without beingenthusiastic, --and it was curious. He talked to Agatha nearly all theevening. 

Emily came to Lady Agatha before she retired, looking even a littleflushed. 

"What are you going to wear at the treat to-morrow?" she asked. 

"A white muslin, with _entre-deux_ of lace, and the gauze garden-hat, and a white parasol and shoes. "

Lady Agatha looked a little nervous; her pink fluttered in her cheek. 

"And to-morrow night?" said Emily. 

"I have a very pale blue. Won't you sit down, dear Miss Fox-Seton?"

"We must both go to bed and sleep. You must not get tired. "

But she sat down for a few minutes, because she saw the girl's eyesasking her to do it. 

The afternoon post had brought a more than usually depressing letterfrom Curzon Street. Lady Claraway was at her motherly wits' ends, andwas really quite touching in her distraction. A dressmaker was enteringa suit. The thing would get into the papers, of course. 

"Unless something happens, something to save us by staving off things, we shall have to go to Castle Clare at once. It will be all over. Nogirl could be presented with such a thing in the air. They don't likeit. "

"They, " of course, meant persons whose opinions made London's society'slaw. 

"To go to Castle Clare, " faltered Agatha, "will be like being sentencedto starve to death. Alix and Hilda and Millicent and Eve and I will bestarved, quite slowly, for the want of the things that make girls' livesbearable when they have been born in a certain class. And even if themost splendid thing happened in three or four years, it would be toolate for us four--almost too late for Eve. If you are out of London, ofcourse you are forgotten. People can't help forgetting. Why shouldn'tthey, when there are such crowds of new girls every year?"

Emily Fox-Seton was sweet. She was quite sure that they would not beobliged to go to Castle Clare. Without being indelicate, she was reallyable to bring hope to the fore. She said a good deal of the black gauzedress and the lovely effect of the silver butterflies. 

"I suppose it was the butterflies which made Lord Walderhurst say'Psyche! Psyche!' when he first saw you, " she added, _en passant_. 

"Did he say that?" And immediately Lady Agatha looked as if she had notintended to say the words. 

"Yes, " answered Emily, hurrying on with a casual air which had a gooddeal of tact in it. "And black makes you so wonderfully fair and aërial. You scarcely look quite real in it; you might float away. But you mustgo to sleep now. "

Lady Agatha went with her to the door of the room to bid her good-night. Her eyes looked like those of a child who might presently cry a little. "Oh, Miss Fox-Seton, " she said, in a very young voice, "you are sokind!"

Chapter Four

The parts of the park nearest to the house already presented a busyaspect when Miss Fox-Seton passed through the gardens the followingmorning. Tables were being put up, and baskets of bread and cake andgroceries were being carried into the tent where the tea was to beprepared. The workers looked interested and good-humoured; the mentouched their hats as Emily appeared, and the women courtesiedsmilingly. They had all discovered that she was amiable and to be reliedon in her capacity of her ladyship's representative. 

"She's a worker, that Miss Fox-Seton, " one said to the other. "I neverseen one that was a lady fall to as she does. Ladies, even when theymeans well, has a way of standing about and telling you to do thingswithout seeming to know quite how they ought to be done. She's coming tohelp with the bread-and-butter-cutting herself this morning, and she putup all them packages of sweets yesterday with her own hands. She did 'emup in different-coloured papers, and tied 'em with bits of ribbon, because she said she knowed children was prouder of coloured things thanplain--they was like that. And so they are: a bit of red or blue goes along way with a child. "

Emily cut bread-and-butter and cake, and placed seats and arranged toyson tables all the morning. The day was hot, though beautiful, and shewas so busy that she had scarcely time for her breakfast. The householdparty was in the gayest spirits. Lady Maria was in her most amusingmood. She had planned a drive to some interesting ruins for theafternoon of the next day, and a dinner-party for the evening. Herfavourite neighbours had just returned to their country-seat five milesaway, and they were coming to the dinner, to her great satisfaction. Most of her neighbours bored her, and she took them in doses at herdinners, as she would have taken medicine. But the Lockyers were youngand good-looking and clever, and she was always glad when they came toLoche during her stay at Mallowe. 

"There is not a frump or a bore among them, " she said. "In the countrypeople are usually frumps when they are not bores, and bores when theyare not frumps, and I am in danger of becoming both myself. Six weeks ofunalloyed dinner-parties, composed of certain people I know, would makeme begin to wear moreen petticoats and talk about the deplorablecondition of London society. "

She led all her flock out on to the lawn under the ilex-trees afterbreakfast. 

"Let us go and encourage industry, " she said. "We will watch EmilyFox-Seton working. She is an example. "

Curiously enough, this was Miss Cora Brooke's day. She found herselfactually walking across the lawn with Lord Walderhurst by her side. Shedid not know how it happened, but it seemed to occur accidentally. 

"We never talk to each other, " he said. 

"Well, " answered Cora, "we have talked to other people a great deal--atleast I have. "

"Yes, you have talked a good deal, " said the marquis. 

"Does that mean I have talked too much?"

He surveyed her prettiness through his glass. Perhaps the holiday stirin the air gave him a festive moment. 

"It means that you haven't talked enough to me. You have devotedyourself too much to the laying low of young Heriot. "

She laughed a trifle saucily. 

"You are a very independent young lady, " remarked Walderhurst, with alighter manner than usual. "You ought to say something deprecatory or--alittle coy, perhaps. "

"I shan't, " said Cora, composedly. 

"Shan't or won't?" he inquired. "They are both bad words for littlegirls--or young ladies--to use to their elders. "

"Both, " said Miss Cora Brooke, with a slightly pleased flush. "Let us goover to the tents and see what poor Emily Fox-Seton is doing. "

"Poor Emily Fox-Seton, " said the marquis, non-committally. 

They went, but they did not stay long. The treat was taking form. EmilyFox-Seton was hot and deeply engaged. People were coming to her fororders. She had a thousand things to do and to superintend the doing of. The prizes for the races and the presents for the children must bearranged in order: things for boys and things for girls, presents forlittle children and presents for big ones. Nobody must be missed, and noone must be given the wrong thing. 

"It would be dreadful, you know, " Emily said to the two when they cameinto her tent and began to ask questions, "if a big boy should get asmall wooden horse, or a little baby should be given a cricket bat andball. Then it would be so disappointing if a tiny girl got a work-boxand a big one got a doll. One has to get things in order. They lookforward to this so, and it's heart-breaking to a child to bedisappointed, isn't it?"

Walderhurst gazed uninspiringly. 

"Who did this for Lady Maria when you were not here?" he inquired. 

"Oh, other people. But she says it was tiresome. " Then with an illuminedsmile; "She has asked me to Mallowe for the next twenty years for thetreats. She is so kind. "

"Maria is a kind woman"--with what seemed to Emily delightfulamiability. "She is kind to her treats and she is kind to Maria Bayne. "

"She is kind to _me_, " said Emily. "You don't know how I am enjoyingthis. "

"That woman enjoys everything, " Lord Walderhurst said when he walkedaway with Cora. "What a temperament to have! I would give ten thousand ayear for it. "

"She has so little, " said Cora, "that everything seems beautiful to her. One doesn't wonder, either. She's very nice. Mother and I quite admireher. We are thinking of inviting her to New York and giving her a realgood time. "

"She would enjoy New York. "

"Have you ever been there, Lord Walderhurst?"

"No. "

"You ought to come, really. So many Englishmen come now, and they allseem to like it. "

"Perhaps I will come, " said Walderhurst. "I have been thinking of it. One is tired of the Continent and one knows India. One doesn't knowFifth Avenue, and Central Park, and the Rocky Mountains. "

"One might try them, " suggested pretty Miss Cora. 

This certainly was her day. Lord Walderhurst took her and her mother outin his own particular high phaeton before lunch. He was fond of driving, and his own phaeton and horses had come to Mallowe with him. He tookonly his favourites out, and though he bore himself on this occasionwith a calm air, the event caused a little smiling flurry on the lawn. At least, when the phaeton spun down the avenue with Miss Brooke and hermother looking slightly flushed and thrilled in their high seats ofhonour, several people exchanged glances and raised eye-brows. 

Lady Agatha went to her room and wrote a long letter to Curzon Street. Mrs. Ralph talked about the problem-play to young Heriot and a group ofothers. 

The afternoon, brilliant and blazing, brought new visitors to assist bytheir presence at the treat. Lady Maria always had a large house-party, and added guests from the neighbourhood to make for gaiety. At twoo'clock a procession of village children and their friends and parents, headed by the village band, marched up the avenue and passed before thehouse on their way to their special part of the park. Lady Maria and herguests stood upon the broad steps and welcomed the jocund crowd, as itmoved by, with hospitable bows and nods and becks and wreathed smiles. Everybody was in a delighted good-humour. 

As the villagers gathered in the park, the house-party joined them byway of the gardens. A conjurer from London gave an entertainment under ahuge tree, and children found white rabbits taken from their pockets andoranges from their caps, with squeals of joy and shouts of laughter. Lady Maria's guests walked about and looked on, laughing with thechildren. 

The great affair of tea followed the performance. No treat is fairlyunder way until the children are filled to the brim with tea and bunsand cake, principally cake in plummy wedges. 

Lady Agatha and Mrs. Ralph handed cake along rows of children seated onthe grass. Miss Brooke was talking to Lord Walderhurst when the workbegan. She had poppies in her hat and carried a poppy-coloured parasol, and sat under a tree, looking very alluring. 

"I ought to go and help to hand cake, " she said. 

"My cousin Maria ought to do it, " remarked Lord Walderhurst, "but shewill not--neither shall I. Tell me something about the elevated railroadand Five-Hundred-and-Fifty-Thousandth Street. " He had a slightly rude, gracefully languid air, which Cora Brooke found somewhat impressive, after all. 

Emily Fox-Seton handed cake and regulated supplies with cheerful tactand good spirits. When the older people were given their tea, she movedabout their tables, attending to every one. She was too heart-whole inher interest in her hospitalities to find time to join Lady Maria andher party at the table under the ilex-trees. She ate somebread-and-butter and drank a cup of tea while she talked to some oldwomen she had made friends with. She was really enjoying herselfimmensely, though occasionally she was obliged to sit down for a fewmoments just to rest her tired feet. The children came to her as to anomnipotent and benign being. She knew where the toys were kept and whatprizes were to be given for the races. She represented law and order andbestowal. The other ladies walked about in wonderful dresses, smilingand exalted, the gentlemen aided the sports in an amateurish way andmade patrician jokes among themselves, but this one lady seemed to bepart of the treat itself. She was not so grandly dressed as theothers, --her dress was only blue linen with white bands on it, --and shehad only a sailor hat with a buckle and bow, but she was of herladyship's world of London people, nevertheless, and they liked her morethan they had ever liked a lady before. It was a fine treat, and sheseemed to have made it so. There had never been quite such a varied andjovial treat at Mallowe before. 

The afternoon waxed and waned. The children played games and raced andrejoiced until their young limbs began to fail them. The older peoplesauntered about or sat in groups to talk and listen to the village band. Lady Maria's visitors, having had enough of rural festivities, went backto the gardens in excellent spirits, to talk and to watch a game oftennis which had taken form on the court. 

Emily Fox-Seton's pleasure had not abated, but her colour had done so. Her limbs ached and her still-smiling face was pale, as she stood underthe beech-tree regarding the final ceremonies of the festal day, topreside over which Lady Maria and her party returned from their seatsunder the ilex-trees. The National Anthem was sung loudly, and therewere three tremendous cheers given for her ladyship. They were suchjoyous and hearty cheers that Emily was stirred almost to emotionaltears. At all events, her hazel eyes looked nice and moistly bright. Shewas an easily moved creature. 

Lord Walderhurst stood near Lady Maria and looked pleased also. Emilysaw him speak to her ladyship and saw Lady Maria smile. Then he steppedforward, with his non-committal air and his monocle glaring calmly inhis eye. 

"Boys and girls, " he said in a clear, far-reaching voice, "I want you togive three of the biggest cheers you are capable of for the lady who hasworked to make your treat the success it has been. Her ladyship tells meshe has never had such a treat before. Three cheers for Miss Fox-Seton. "

Emily gave a gasp and felt a lump rise in her throat. She felt as if shehad been without warning suddenly changed into a royal personage, andshe scarcely knew what to do. 

The whole treat, juvenile and adult, male and female, burst into threecheers which were roars and bellows. Hats and caps were waved and tossedinto the air, and every creature turned toward her as she blushed andbowed in tremulous gratitude and delight. 

"Oh, Lady Maria! oh, Lord Walderhurst!" she said, when she managed toget to them, "how _kind_ you are to me!"

Chapter Five

After she had taken her early tea in the morning, Emily Fox-Seton layupon her pillows and gazed out upon the tree-branches near her window, in a state of bliss. She was tired, but happy. How well everything had"gone off"! How pleased Lady Maria had been, and how kind of LordWalderhurst to ask the villagers to give three cheers for herself! Shehad never dreamed of such a thing. It was the kind of attention notusually offered to her. She smiled her childlike smile and blushed atthe memory of it. Her impression of the world was that people werereally very amiable, as a rule. They were always good to her, at least, she thought, and it did not occur to her that if she had not paid herway so remarkably well by being useful they might have been lessagreeable. Never once had she doubted that Lady Maria was the mostadmirable and generous of human beings. She was not aware in the leastthat her ladyship got a good deal out of her. In justice to herladyship, it may be said that she was not wholly aware of it herself, and that Emily absolutely enjoyed being made use of. 

This morning, however, when she got up, she found herself more tiredthan she ever remembered being before, and it may be easily argued thata woman who runs about London on other people's errands often knows whatit is to be aware of aching limbs. She laughed a little when shediscovered that her feet were actually rather swollen, and that she mustwear a pair of her easiest slippers. "I must sit down as much as I canto-day, " she thought. "And yet, with the dinner-party and the excursionthis morning, there may be a number of little things Lady Maria wouldlike me to do. "

There were, indeed, numbers of things Lady Maria was extremely glad toask her to do. The drive to the ruins was to be made before lunch, because some of the guests felt that an afternoon jaunt would leave themrather fagged for the dinner-party in the evening. Lady Maria was notgoing, and, as presently became apparent, the carriages would be rathercrowded if Miss Fox-Seton joined the party. On the whole, Emily was notsorry to have an excuse for remaining at home, and so the carriagesdrove away comfortably filled, and Lady Maria and Miss Fox-Seton watchedtheir departure. 

"I have no intention of having my venerable bones rattled over hill anddale the day I give a dinner-party, " said her ladyship. "Please ring thebell, Emily. I want to make sure of the fish. Fish is one of theproblems of country life. Fishmongers are demons, and when they livefive miles from one they can arouse the most powerful human emotions. "

Mallowe Court was at a distance from the country town delightful in itseffects upon the rusticity of the neighbourhood, but appalling whenconsidered in connection with fish. One could not dine Without fish; thetown was small and barren of resources, and the one fishmonger of weakmind and unreliable nature. 

The footman who obeyed the summons of the bell informed her ladyshipthat the cook was rather anxious about the fish, as usual. Thefishmonger had been a little doubtful as to whether he could supply herneeds, and his cart never arrived until half-past twelve. 

"Great goodness!" exclaimed her ladyship when the man retired. "What asituation if we found ourselves without fish! Old General Barnes is themost ferocious old gourmand in England, and he loathes people who givehim bad dinners. We are all rather afraid of him, the fact is, and Iwill own that I am vain about my dinners. That is the last charm natureleaves a woman, the power to give decent dinners. I shall be fearfullyannoyed if any ridiculous thing happens. "

They sat in the morning-room together writing notes and talking, and ashalf-past twelve drew near, watching for the fishmonger's cart. Once ortwice Lady Maria spoke of Lord Walderhurst. 

"He is an interesting creature, to my mind, " she said. "I have alwaysrather liked him. He has original ideas, though he is not in the leastbrilliant. I believe he talks more freely to me, on the whole, than tomost people, though I can't say he has a particularly good opinion ofme. He stuck his glass in his eye and stared at me last night, in thatweird way of his, and said to me, 'Maria, in an ingenuous fashion ofyour own, you are the most abominably selfish woman I ever beheld. 'Still, I know he rather likes me. I said to him: 'That isn't quite true, James. I am selfish, but I'm not _abominably_ selfish. Abominablyselfish people always have nasty tempers, and no one can accuse me ofhaving a nasty temper. I have the disposition of a bowl of bread andmilk. "

"Emily, "--as wheels rattled up the avenue, --"_is_ that the fishmonger'scart?"

"No, " answered Emily at the window; "it is the butcher. "

"His attitude toward the women here has made my joy, " Lady Mariaproceeded, smiling over the deep-sea fishermen's knitted helmet she hadtaken up. "He behaves beautifully to them all, but not one of them hasreally a leg to stand on as far as he is responsible for it. But I willtell you something, Emily. " She paused. 

Miss Fox-Seton waited with interested eyes. 

"He is thinking of bringing the thing to an end and marrying _some_woman. I feel it in my bones. "

"Do you think so?" exclaimed Emily. "Oh, I can't help hoping--" But shepaused also. 

"You hope it will be Agatha Slade, " Lady Maria ended for her. "Well, perhaps it will be. I sometimes think it is Agatha, if it's any one. Andyet I'm not sure. One never could be sure with Walderhurst. He hasalways had a trick of keeping more than his mouth shut. I wonder if hecould have any other woman up his sleeve?"

"Why do you think--" began Emily. 

Lady Maria laughed. 

"For an odd reason. The Walderhursts have a ridiculously splendid ringin the family, which they have a way of giving to the women they becomeengaged to. It's ridiculous because--well, because a ruby as big as atrouser's button _is_ ridiculous. You can't get over that. There is astory connected with this one--centuries and things, and something aboutthe woman the first Walderhurst had it made for. She was a DameSomething or Other who had snubbed the King for being forward, and thesnubbing was so good for him that he thought she was a saint and gavethe ruby for her betrothal. Well, by the merest accident I foundWalderhurst had sent his man to town for it. It came two days ago. "

"Oh, how interesting!" said Emily, thrilled. "It _must_ mean something. "

"It is rather a joke. Wheels again, Emily. Is _that_ the fishmonger?"

Emily went to the window once more. "Yes, " she answered, "if his name isBuggle. "

"His name _is_ Buggle, " said Lady Maria, "and we are saved. "

But five minutes later the cook herself appeared at the morning-roomdoor. She was a stout person, who panted, and respectfully removed beadsof perspiration from her brow with a clean handkerchief. 

She was as nearly pale as a heated person of her weight may be. 

"And what has happened now, cook?" asked Lady Maria. 

"That Buggle, your ladyship, " said cook, "says your ladyship can't be nosorrier than he is, but when fish goes bad in a night it can't be madefresh in the morning. He brought it that I might see it for myself, andit is in a state as could not be used by any one. I was that upset, yourladyship, that I felt like I must come and explain myself. "

"What _can_ be done?" exclaimed Lady Maria. "Emily, _do_ suggestsomething. "

"We can't even be sure, " said the cook, "that Batch has what would suitus. Batch sometimes has it, but he is the fishmonger at Maundell, andthat is four miles away, and we are short-'anded, your ladyship, now the'ouse is so full, and not a servant that could be spared. "

"Dear me!" said Lady Maria. "Emily, this is really enough to drive onequite mad. If everything was not out of the stables, I know you woulddrive over to Maundell. You are such a good walker, "--catching a gleamof hope, --"do you think you could walk?"

Emily tried to look cheerful. Lady Maria's situation was really an awfulone for a hostess. It would not have mattered in the least if herstrong, healthy body had not been so tired. She was an excellent walker, and ordinarily eight miles would have meant nothing in the way offatigue. She was kept in good training by her walking in town, Springymoorland swept by fresh breezes was not like London streets. 

"I think I can manage it, " she said nice-temperedly. "If I had not runabout so much yesterday it would be a mere nothing. You must have thefish, of course. I will walk over the moor to Maundell and tell Batch itmust be sent at once. Then I will come back slowly. I can rest on theheather by the way. The moor is lovely in the afternoon. "

"You dear soul!" Lady Maria broke forth. "What a boon you are to awoman!"

She felt quite grateful. There arose in her mind an impulse to inviteEmily Fox-Seton to remain the rest of her life with her, but she was tooexperienced an elderly lady to give way to impulses. She privatelyresolved, however, that she would have her a good deal in South AudleyStreet, and would make her some decent presents. 

When Emily Fox-Seton, attired for her walk in her shortest brown linenfrock and shadiest hat, passed through the hall, the post-boy was justdelivering the midday letters to a footman. The servant presented hissalver to her with a letter for herself lying upon the top of oneaddressed in Lady Claraway's handwriting "To the Lady Agatha Slade. "Emily recognised it as one of the epistles of many sheets which so oftenmade poor Agatha shed slow and depressed tears. Her own letter wasdirected in the well-known hand of Mrs. Cupp, and she wondered what itcould contain. 

"I hope the poor things are not in any trouble, " she thought. "They wereafraid the young man in the sitting-room was engaged. If he got marriedand left them, I don't know what they would do; he has been so regular. "

Though the day was hot, the weather was perfect, and Emily, havingexchanged her easy slippers for an almost equally easy pair of tanshoes, found her tired feet might still be used. Her disposition to makethe very best of things inspired her to regard even an eight-mile walkwith courage. The moorland air was so sweet, the sound of the beesdroning as they stumbled about in the heather was such a comfortable, peaceful thing, that she convinced herself that she should find the fourmiles to Maundell quite agreeable. 

She had so many nice things to think of that she temporarily forgot thatshe had put Mrs. Cupp's letter in her pocket, and was half-way acrossthe moor before she remembered it. 

"Dear me!" she exclaimed when she recalled it. "I must see what hashappened. "

She opened the envelope and began to read as she walked; but she had nottaken many steps before she uttered an exclamation and stopped. 

"How very nice for them!" she said, but she turned rather pale. 

From a worldly point of view the news the letter contained was indeedvery nice for the Cupps, but it put a painful aspect upon the simpleaffairs of poor Miss Fox-Seton. 

"It is a great piece of news, in one way, " wrote Mrs. Cupp, "and yet meand Jane can't help feeling a bit low at the thought of the changes itwill make, and us living where you won't be with us, if I may take theliberty, miss. My brother William made a good bit of money in Australia, but he has always been homesick for the old country, as he always callsEngland. His wife was a Colonial, and when she died a year ago he madeup his mind to come home to settle in Chichester, where he was born. Hesays there's nothing like the feeling of a Cathedral town. He's boughtsuch a nice house a bit out, with a big garden, and he wants me and Janeto come and make a home with him. He says he has worked hard all hislife, and now he means to be comfortable, and he can't be bothered withhousekeeping. He promises to provide well for us both, and he wants usto sell up Mortimer Street, and come as quick as possible. But we_shall_ miss you, miss, and though her Uncle William keeps a trap andeverything according, and Jane is grateful for his kindness, she brokedown and cried hard last night, and says to me: 'Oh, mother, if MissFox-Seton could just manage to take me as a maid, I would rather be itthan anything. Traps don't feed the heart, mother, and I've a feelingfor Miss Fox-Seton as is perhaps unbecoming to my station. ' But we'vegot the men in the house ticketing things, miss, and we want to knowwhat we shall do with the articles in your bed-sitting-room. "

The friendliness of the two faithful Cupps and the humble Turkey-redcomforts of the bed-sitting-room had meant home to Emily Fox-Seton. Whenshe had turned her face and her tired feet away from discouragingerrands and small humiliations and discomforts, she had turned themtoward the bed-sitting-room, the hot little fire, the small, fat blackkettle singing on the hob, and the two-and-eleven-penny tea-set. Notbeing given to crossing bridges before she reached them, she had nevercontemplated the dreary possibility that her refuge might be taken awayfrom her. She had not dwelt upon the fact that she had no other realrefuge on earth. 

As she walked among the sun-heated heather and the luxuriously droningbees, she dwelt upon it now with a suddenly realising sense. As it camehome to her soul, her eyes filled with big tears, which brimmed over androlled down her cheeks. They dropped upon the breast of her linen blouseand left marks. 

"I shall have to find a new bed-sitting-room somewhere, " she said, thebreast of the linen blouse lifting itself sharply. "It will be sodifferent to be in a house with strangers. Mrs. Cupp and Jane--" She wasobliged to take out her handkerchief at that moment. "I am afraid Ican't get anything respectable for ten shillings a week. It Was verycheap--and they were so nice!"

All her fatigue of the early morning had returned. Her feet began toburn and ache, and the sun felt almost unbearably hot. The mist in hereyes prevented her seeing the path before her. Once or twice shestumbled over something. 

"It seems as if it must be farther than four miles, " she said. "And thenthere is the walk back. I _am_ tired. But I must get on, really. "

Chapter Six

The drive to the ruins had been a great success. It was a drive of justsufficient length to put people in spirits without fatiguing them. Theparty came back to lunch with delightful appetities. Lady Agatha andMiss Cora Brooke had pink cheeks. The Marquis of Walderhurst had behavedcharmingly to both of them. He had helped each of them to climb aboutamong the ruins, and had taken them both up the steep, dark stairway ofone of the towers, and stood with them looking over the turrets into thecourtyard and the moat. He knew the history of the castle and couldpoint out the banquet-hall and the chapel and the serving-places, andknew legends about the dungeons. 

"He gives us all a turn, mother, " said Miss Cora Brooke. "He even gave aturn yesterday to poor Emily Fox-Seton. He's rather nice. "

There was a great deal of laughter at lunch after their return. MissCora Brooke was quite brilliant in her gay little sallies. But thoughshe was more talkative than Lady Agatha, she did not look morebrilliant. 

The letter from Curzon Street had not made the beauty shed tears. Herface had fallen when it had been handed to her on her return, and shehad taken it upstairs to her room with rather a flagging step. But whenshe came down to lunch she walked with the movement of a nymph. Herlovely little face wore a sort of tremulous radiance. She laughed like achild at every amusing thing that was said. She might have been tenyears old instead of twenty-two, her colour, her eyes, her spiritsseemed of a freshness so infantine. 

She was leaning back in her chair laughing enchantingly at one of MissBrooke's sparkling remarks when Lord Walderhurst, who sat next to her, said suddenly, glancing round the table:

"But where is Miss Fox-Seton?"

It was perhaps a significant fact that up to this moment nobody hadobserved her absence. It was Lady Maria who replied. 

"I am almost ashamed to answer, " she said. "As I have said before, EmilyFox-Seton has become the lodestar of my existence. I cannot live withouther. She has walked over to Maundell to make sure that we do not have adinner-party without fish to-night. "

"She has _walked_ over to Maundell, " said Lord Walderhurst--"afteryesterday?"

"There was not a pair of wheels left in the stable, " answered LadyMaria. "It is disgraceful, of course, but she is a splendid walker, andshe said she was not too tired to do it. It is the kind of thing sheought to be given the Victoria Cross for--saving one from a dinner-partywithout fish. "

The Marquis of Walderhurst took up the cord of his monocle and fixed theglass rigidly in his eye. 

"It is not only four miles to Maundell, " he remarked, staring at thetable-cloth, not at Lady Maria, "but it is four miles back. "

"By a singular coincidence, " said Lady Maria. 

The talk and laughter went on, and the lunch also, but Lord Walderhurst, for some reason best known to himself, did not finish his. For a fewseconds he stared at the table-cloth, then he pushed aside his nearlydisposed-of cutlet, then he got up from his chair quietly. 

"Excuse me, Maria, " he said, and without further ado went out of theroom, and walked toward the stables. 

There was excellent fish at Maundell; Batch produced it at once, fresh, sound, and desirable. Had she been in heir normal spirits, Emily wouldhave rejoiced at the sight of it, and have retraced her four miles toMallowe in absolute jubilation. She would have shortened and beguiledher return journey by depicting to herself Lady Maria's pleasure andrelief. 

But the letter from Mrs. Cupp lay like a weight of lead in her pocket. It had given her such things to think of as she walked that she had beenoblivious to heather and bees and fleece-bedecked summer-blue sky, andhad felt more tired than in any tramp through London streets that shecould call to mind. Each step she took seemed to be carrying her fartheraway from the few square yards of home the bed-sitting-room hadrepresented under the dominion of the Cupps. Every moment she recalledmore strongly that it had been home--home. Of course it had not been thethird-floor back room so much as it had been the Cupps who made it so, who had regarded her as a sort of possession, who had liked to serveher, and had done it with actual affection. 

"I shall have to find a new place, " she kept saying. "I shall have to goamong quite strange people. "

She had suddenly a new sense of being without resource. That was one ofthe proofs of the curious heaviness of the blow the simple occurrencewas to her. She felt temporarily almost as if there were no otherlodging-houses in London, though she knew that really there were tens ofthousands. The fact was that though there might be other Cupps, or theircounterparts, she could not make herself believe such a good thingpossible. She had been physically worn out before she had read theletter, and its effect had been proportionate to her fatigue and lack ofpower to rebound. She was vaguely surprised to feel that the tears keptfilling her eyes and falling on her cheeks in big heavy drops. She wasobliged to use her handkerchief frequently, as if she was suddenlydeveloping a cold in her head. 

"I must take care, " she said once, quite prosaically, but with morepathos in her voice than she was aware of, "or I shall make my nosequite red. "

[Illustration: The Marquis of Walderhurst]

Though Batch was able to supply fish, he was unfortunately not able tosend it to Mallowe. His cart had gone out on a round just before MissFox-Seton's arrival, and there was no knowing when it would return. 

"Then I must carry the fish myself, " said Emily. "You can put it in aneat basket. "

"I'm very sorry, miss; I am, indeed, miss, " said Batch, looking hot andpained. 

"It will not be heavy, " returned Emily; "and her ladyship must be sureof it for the dinner-party. "

So she turned back to recross the moor with a basket of fish on her arm. And she was so pathetically unhappy that she felt that so long as shelived the odour of fresh fish would make her feel sorrowful. She hadheard of people who were made sorrowful by the odour of a flower or thesound of a melody but in her case it would be the smell of fresh fishthat would make her sad. If she had been a person with a sense ofhumour, she might have seen that this was thing to laugh at a little. But she was not a humorous woman, and just now----

"Oh, I shall have to find a new place, " she was thinking, "and I havelived in that little room for years. "

The sun got hotter and hotter, and her feet became so tired that shecould scarcely drag one of them after another. She had forgotten thatshe had left Mallowe before lunch, and that she ought to have got a cupof tea, at least, at Maundell. Before she had walked a mile on her wayback, she realised that she was frightfully hungry and rather faint. 

"There is not even a cottage where I could get a glass of water, " shethought. 

The basket, which was really comparatively light, began to feel heavy onher arm, and at length she felt sure that a certain burning spot on herleft heel must be a blister which was being rubbed by her shoe. How ithurt her, and how tired she was--how tired! And when she leftMallowe--lovely, luxurious Mallowe--she would not go back to her littleroom all fresh from the Cupps' autumn house-cleaning, which included thewashing and ironing of her Turkey-red hangings and chair-covers; shewould be obliged to huddle into any poor place she could find. And Mrs. Cupp and Jane would be in Chichester. 

"But what good fortune it is for them!" she murmured. "They need neverbe anxious about the future again. How--how wonderful it must be to knowthat one need not be afraid of the future! I--indeed, I think I reallymust sit down. "

She sat down upon the sun-warmed heather and actually let her tear-wetface drop upon her hands. 

"Oh, dear! Oh, dear! Oh, dear!" she said helplessly. "I must not letmyself do this. I mustn't, Oh, dear! Oh, dear! Oh, dear!"

She was so overpowered by her sense of her own weakness that she wasconscious of nothing but the fact that she must control it. Upon theelastic moorland road wheels stole upon one without sound. So the wheelsof a rapidly driven high cart approached her and were almost at her sidebefore she lifted her head, startled by a sudden consciousness that avehicle was near her. 

It was Lord Walderhurst's cart, and even as she gazed at him withalarmed wet eyes, his lordship descended from it and made a sign to hisgroom, who at once impassively drove on. 

Emily's lips tried to tremble into a smile; she put out her handfumblingly toward the fish-basket, and having secured it, began to rise. 

"I--sat down to rest, " she faltered, even apologetically. "I walked toMaundell, and it was so hot. "

Just at that moment a little breeze sprang up and swept across hercheek. She was so grateful that her smile became less difficult. 

"I got what Lady Maria wanted, " she added, and the childlike dimple inher cheek endeavoured to defy her eyes. 

The Marquis of Walderhurst looked rather odd. Emily had never seen himlook like this before. He took a silver flask out of his pocket in amatter-of-fact way, and filled its cup with something. 

"That is sherry, " he said. "Please drink it. You are absolutely faint. "

She held out her hand eagerly. She could not help it. 

"Oh, thank you--thank you!" she said. "I am _so_ thirsty!" And she drankit as if it were the nectar of the gods. 

"Now, Miss Fox-Seton, " he said, "please sit down again. I came here todrive you back to Mallowe, and the cart will not come back for a quarterof an hour. "

"You came on purpose!" she exclaimed, feeling, in truth, somewhatawe-struck. "But how kind of you, Lord Walderhurst--how good!"

It was the most unforeseen and amazing experience of her life, and atonce she sought for some reason which could connect with his coming somemore interesting person than mere Emily Fox-Seton. Oh, --the thoughtflashed upon her, --he had come for some reason connected with LadyAgatha. He made her sit down on the heather again, and he took a seatbeside her. He looked straight into her eyes. 

"You have been crying, " he remarked. 

There was no use denying it. And what was there in the good gray-browneye, gazing through the monocle, which so moved her by its suggestion ofkindness and--and some new feeling?

"Yes, I have, " she admitted. "I don't often--but--well, yes, I have. "

"What was it?"

It was the most extraordinary thump her heart gave at this moment. Shehad never felt such an absolute thump. It was perhaps because she wastired. His voice had lowered itself. No man had ever spoken to herbefore like that. It made one feel as if he was not an exalted person atall; only a kind, kind one. She must not presume upon his kindness andmake much of her prosaic troubles. She tried to smile in a proper casualway. 

"Oh, it was a small thing, really, " was her effort at treating thematter lightly; "but it seems more important to me than it would to anyone with--with a family. The people I live with--who have been so kindto me--are going away. "

"The Cupps?" he asked. 

She turned quite round to look at him. 

"How, " she faltered, "did you know about them?"

"Maria told me, " he answered, "I asked her. "

It seemed such a human sort of interest to have taken in her. She couldnot understand. And she had thought he scarcely realised her existence. She said to herself that was so often the case--people were so muchkinder than one knew. 

She felt the moisture welling in her eyes, and stared steadily at theheather, trying to wink it away. 

"I am really glad, " she explained hastily. "It is such good fortune forthem. Mrs. Cupp's brother has offered them such a nice home. They neednever be anxious again. "

"But they will leave Mortimer Street--and you will have to give up yourroom. "

"Yes. I must find another. " A big drop got the better of her, andflashed on its way down her cheek. "I can find a room, perhaps, but--Ican't find----" She was obliged to clear her throat. 

"That was why you cried?"

"Yes. " After which she sat still. 

"You don't know where you will live?"

"No. "

She was looking so straight before her and trying so hard to behavediscreetly that she did not see that he had drawn nearer to her. But amoment later she realised it, because he took hold of her hand. His ownclosed over it firmly. 

"Will you, " he said--"I came here, in fact, to ask you if you will comeand live with me?"

Her heart stood still, quite still. London was so full of ugly storiesabout things done by men of his rank--stories of transgressions, offollies, of cruelties. So many were open secrets. There were men, who, even while keeping up an outward aspect of respectability, were heldaccountable for painful things. The lives of well-born struggling womenwere so hard. Sometimes such nice ones went under because temptation wasso great. But she had not thought, she could not have dreamed----

She got on her feet and stood upright before him. He rose with her, andbecause she was a tall woman their eyes were on a level. Her own big andhonest ones were wide and full of crystal tears. 

"Oh!" she said in helpless woe. "Oh!"

It was perhaps the most effective thing a woman ever did. It was sosimple that it was heartbreaking. She could not have uttered a word, hewas such a powerful and great person, and she was so without help orstay. 

Since the occurring of this incident, she has often been spoken of as abeauty, and she has, without doubt, had her fine hours; but Walderhursthas never told her that the most beautiful moment of her life wasundoubtedly that in which she stood upon the heather, tall and straightand simple, her hands hanging by her sides, her large, tear-filled hazeleyes gazing straight into his. In the femininity of her frankdefencelessness there was an appeal to nature's self in man which wasnot quite of earth. And for several seconds they stood so and gazed intoeach other's souls--the usually unilluminated nobleman and the prosaicyoung woman who lodged on a third floor back in Mortimer Street. 

Then, quite quickly, something was lighted in his eyes, and he took astep toward her. 

"Good heavens!" he demanded. "What do you suppose I am asking of you?"

"I don't--know, " she answered; "I don't--know. "

"My good girl, " he said, even with some irritation, "I am asking you tobe my wife. I am asking you to come and live with me in an entirelyrespectable manner, as the Marchioness of Walderhurst. "

Emily touched the breast of her brown linen blouse with the tips of herfingers. 

"You--are--asking--_me_?" she said. 

"Yes, " he answered. His glass had dropped out of his eye, and he pickedit up and replaced it. "There is Black with the cart, " he said. "I willexplain myself with greater clearness as we drive back to Mallowe. "

The basket of fish was put in the cart, and Emily Fox-Seton was put in. Then the marquis got in himself, and took the reins from his groom. 

"You will walk back, Black, " he said, "by that path, " with a wave of thehand in a diverging direction. 

As they drove across the heather, Emily was trembling softly from headto foot. She could have told no human being what she felt. Only a womanwho had lived as she had lived and who had been trained as she had beentrained could have felt it. The brilliance of the thing which hadhappened to her was so unheard of and so undeserved, she told herself. It was so incredible that, even with the splendid gray mare's high-heldhead before her and Lord Walderhurst by her side, she felt that she wasonly part of a dream. Men had never said "things" to her, and a man wassaying them--the Marquis of Walderhurst was saying them. They were notthe kind of things every man says or said in every man's way, but theyso moved her soul that she quaked with joy. 

"I am not a marrying man, " said his lordship, "but I must marry, and Ilike you better than any woman I have ever known. I do not generallylike women. I am a selfish man, and I want an unselfish woman. Mostwomen are as selfish as I am myself. I used to like you when I heardMaria speak of you. I have watched you and thought of you ever since Icame here. You are necessary to every one, and you are so modest thatyou know nothing about it. You are a handsome woman, and you are alwaysthinking of other women's good looks. "

Emily gave a soft little gasp. 

"But Lady Agatha, " she said. "I was sure it was Lady Agatha. "

"I don't want a girl, " returned his lordship. "A girl would bore me todeath. I am not going to dry-nurse a girl at the age of fifty-four. Iwant a companion. "

"But I am so _far_ from clever, " faltered Emily. 

The marquis turned in his driving-seat to look at her. It was really avery nice look he gave her. It made Emily's cheeks grow pink and hersimple heart beat. 

"You are the woman I want, " he said. "You make me feel quitesentimental. "

When they reached Mallowe, Emily had upon her finger the ruby which LadyMaria had graphically described as being "as big as a trouser button. "It was, indeed, so big that she could scarcely wear her glove over it. She was still incredible, but she was blooming like a large rose. LordWalderhurst had said so many "things" to her that she seemed to behold anew heaven and a new earth. She had been so swept off her feet that shehad not really been allowed time to think, after that first gasp, ofLady Agatha. 

When she reached her bedroom she almost returned to earth as sheremembered it. Neither of them had dreamed of this--neither of them. What could she say to Lady Agatha? What would Lady Agatha say to her, though it had not been her fault? She had not dreamed that such a thingcould be possible. How could she, oh, how could she?

She was standing in the middle of her room with clasped hands. There wasa knock upon the door, and Lady Agatha herself came to her. 

What had occurred? Something. It was to be seen in the girl's eyes, andin a certain delicate shyness in her manner. 

"Something very nice has happened, " she said. 

"Something nice?" repeated Emily. 

Lady Agatha sat down. The letter from Curzon Street was in her hand halfunfolded. 

"I have had a letter from mamma. It seems almost bad taste to speak ofit so soon, but we have talked to each other so much, and you are sokind, that I want to tell you myself. Sir Bruce Norman has been to talkto papa about--about me. "

Emily felt that her cup filled to the brim at the moment. 

"He is in England again?"

Agatha nodded gently. 

"He only went away to--well, to test his own feelings before he spoke. Mamma is delighted with him. I am going home to-morrow. "

Emily made a little swoop forward. 

"You always liked him?" she said. 

Lady Agatha's delicate mounting colour was adorable. 

"I was quite _unhappy_, " she owned, and hid her lovely face in herhands. 

In the morning-room Lord Walderhurst was talking to Lady Maria. 

"You need not give Emily Fox-Seton any more clothes, Maria, " he said. "Iam going to supply her in future. I have asked her to marry me. "

Lady Maria lightly gasped, and then began to laugh. 

"Well, James, " she said, "you have certainly much more sense than mostmen of your rank and age. "

PART TWO

Chapter Seven

When Miss Emily Fox-Seton was preparing for the extraordinary change inher life which transformed her from a very poor, hardworking woman intoone of the richest marchionesses in England, Lord Walderhurst's cousin, Lady Maria Bayne, was extremely good to her. She gave her advice, andthough advice is a cheap present as far as the giver is concerned, thereare occasions when it may be a very valuable one to the recipient. LadyMaria's was valuable to Emily Fox-Seton, who had but one difficulty, which was to adjust herself to the marvellous fortune which had befallenher. 

There was a certain thing Emily found herself continually saying. Itused to break from her lips when she was alone in her room, when she wason her way to her dressmaker's, and in spite of herself, sometimes whenshe was with her whilom patroness. 

"I can't believe it is true! I can't believe it!"

"I don't wonder, my dear girl, " Lady Maria answered the second time sheheard it. "But what circumstances demand of you is that you should learnto. "

"Yes, " said Emily, "I know I must. But it seems like a dream. Sometimes, " passing her hand over her forehead with a little laugh, "Ifeel as if I should suddenly find myself wakened in the room in MortimerStreet by Jane Cupp bringing in my morning tea. And I can see thewallpaper and the Turkey-red cotton curtains. One of them was an inch orso too short. I never could afford to buy the new bit, though I alwaysintended to. "

"How much was the stuff a yard?" Lady Maria inquired. 

"Sevenpence. "

"How many yards did you need?"

"Two. It would have cost one and twopence, you see. And I really couldget on without it. "

Lady Maria put up her lorgnette and looked at her protégée with aninterest which bordered on affection, it was so enjoyable to herepicurean old mind. 

"I didn't suspect it was as bad as that, Emily, " she said. "I shouldnever have dreamed it. You managed to do yourself with such astonishingdecency. You were actually nice--always. "

"I was very much poorer than anyone knew, " said Emily. "People don'tlike one's troubles. And when one is earning one's living as I was, onemust be agreeable, you know. It would never do to seem tiresome. "

"There's cleverness in realising that fact, " said Lady Maria. "You werealways the most cheerful creature. That was one of the reasonsWalderhurst admired you. "

The future marchioness blushed all over. Lady Maria saw even her neckitself blush, and it amused her ladyship greatly. She was intenselyedified by the fact that Emily could be made to blush by the meremention of her mature fiancé's name. 

"She's in such a state of mind about the man that she's delightful, " wasthe old woman's internal reflection; "I believe she's in love with him, as if she was a nurse-maid and he was a butcher's boy. "

"You see, " Emily went on in her nice, confiding way (one of the mostsurprising privileges of her new position was that it made it possiblefor her to confide in old Lady Maria), "it was not only the living fromday to day that made one anxious, it was the Future!" (Lady Maria knewthat the word began in this case with a capital letter. ) "No one knowswhat the Future is to poor women. One knows that one must get older, andone may not keep well, and if one could not be active and in goodspirits, if one could not run about on errands, and things fell off, _what_ could one do? It takes hard work, Lady Maria, to keep up even thetiniest nice little room and the plainest presentable wardrobe, if oneisn't clever. If I had been clever it would have been quite different, Idare say. I have been so frightened sometimes in the middle of thenight, when I wakened and thought about living to be sixty-five, that Ihave lain and shaken all over. You see, " her blush had so fardisappeared that she looked for the moment pale at the memory, "I hadnobody--nobody. "

"And now you are going to be the Marchioness of Walderhurst, " remarkedLady Maria. 

Emily's hands, which rested on her knee, wrung themselves together. 

"That is what it seems impossible to believe, " she said, "or to begrateful enough for to--to--" and she blushed all over again. 

"Say 'James', " put in Lady Maria, with a sinful if amiable sense ofcomedy; "you will have to get accustomed to thinking of him as 'James'sometimes, at all events. "

But Emily did not say "James. " There was something interesting in theinnocent fineness of her feeling for Lord Walderhurst. In the midst ofher bewildered awe and pleasure at the material splendours looming up inher horizon, her soul was filled with a tenderness as exquisite as thereligion of a child. It was a combination of intense gratitude and theguileless passion of a hitherto wholly unawakened woman--a woman who hadnot hoped for love or allowed her thoughts to dwell upon it, and whotherefore had no clear understanding of its full meaning. She could nothave explained her feeling if she had tried, and she did not dream oftrying. If a person less inarticulate than herself had translated it toher she would have been amazed and abashed. So would Lord Walderhursthave been amazed, so would Lady Maria; but her ladyship's amazementwould have expressed itself after its first opening of the eyes, with afaint elderly chuckle. 

When Miss Fox-Seton had returned to town she had returned with LadyMaria to South Audley Street. The Mortimer Street episode was closed, aswas the Cupps' house. Mrs. Cupp and Jane had gone to Chichester, Janeleaving behind her a letter the really meritorious neatness of which wasblotted by two or three distinct tears. Jane respectfully expressed heraffectionate rapture at the wondrous news which "Modern Society" hadrevealed to her before Miss Fox-Seton herself had time to do so. 

"I am afraid, miss, " she ended her epistle, "that I am not experiencedenough to serve a lady in a grand position, but hoping it is not aliberty to ask it, if at any time your own maid should be wanting ayoung woman to work under her, I should be grateful to be remembered. Perhaps having learned your ways, and being a good needlewoman and fondof it, might be a little recommendation for me. "

"I _should_ like to take Jane for my maid, " Emily had said to LadyMaria. "Do you think I might make her do?"

"She would probably be worth half a dozen French minxes who would amusethemselves by getting up intrigues with your footmen, " was Lady Maria'sastute observation. "I would pay an extra ten pounds a year myself forslavish affection, if it was to be obtained at agency offices. Send herto a French hairdresser to take a course of lessons, and she will beworth anything. To turn you out perfectly will be her life's ambition. "

To Jane Cupp's rapture the next post brought her the following letter:--

DEAR JANE, --It is just like you to write such a nice letter to me, and Ican assure you I appreciated all your good wishes very much. I feel thatI have been most fortunate, and am, of course, very happy. I have spokento Lady Maria Bayne about you, and she thinks that you might make me auseful maid if I gave you the advantage of a course of lessons inhairdressing. I myself know that you would be faithful and interestedand that I could not have a more trustworthy young woman. If your motheris willing to spare you, I will engage you. The wages would bethirty-five pounds a year (and beer, of course) to begin with, and anincrease later as you became more accustomed to your duties. I am gladto hear that your mother is so well and comfortable. Remember me to herkindly. 

Yours truly, EMILY FOX-SETON

Jane Cupp trembled and turned pale with joy as she read her letter. 

"Oh, mother!" she said, breathless with happiness. "And to think she isalmost a marchioness this very minute. I wonder if I shall go with herto Oswyth Castle first, or to Mowbray, or to Hurst?"

"My word!" said Mrs. Cupp, "you are in luck, Jane, being as you'd ratherbe a lady's maid than live private in Chichester. You needn't go out toservice, you know. Your uncle's always ready to provide for you. "

"I know he is, " answered Jane, a little nervous lest obstacles might beput in the way of her achieving her long-cherished ambition. "And it'skind of him, and I'm sure I'm grateful. But--though I wouldn't hurt hisfeelings by mentioning it--it is more independent to be earning your ownliving, and there's more _life_, you see, in waiting on a titled ladyand dressing her for drawing-rooms and parties and races and things, andtravelling about with her to the grand places she lives in and visits. Why, mother, I've heard tell that the society in the servants' halls isalmost like high life. Butlers and footmen and maids to high people hasseen so much of the world and get such manners. Do you remember howquiet and elegant Susan Hill was that was maid to Lady Cosbourne? Andshe'd been to Greece and to India. If Miss Fox-Seton likes travel andhis lordship likes it, I may be taken to all sorts of wonderful places. Just think!"

She gave Mrs. Cupp a little clutch in her excitement. She had alwayslived in the basement kitchen of a house in Mortimer Street and hadnever had reason to hope she might leave it. And now!

"You're right, Jane!" her mother said, shaking her head. "There's agreat deal in it, particular when you're young. There's a great deal init. "

When the engagement of the Marquis of Walderhurst had been announced, tothe consternation of many, Lady Maria had been in her element. She wasreally fine at times in her attitude towards the indiscreetly ortactlessly inquiring. Her management of Lady Malfry in particular hadbeen a delightful thing. On hearing of her niece's engagement, LadyMalfry had naturally awakened to a proper and well-behaved if belatedinterest in her. She did not fling herself upon her breast after themanner of worldly aunts in ancient comedies in which Cinderella attainsfortune. She wrote a letter of congratulation, after which she called atSouth Audley Street, and with not too great obviousness placed herselfand her house at the disposal of such female relatives as requiredprotection during the period of their preparation for becomingmarchionesses. She herself could not have explained exactly how it wasthat, without being put through any particular process, she understood, before her call was half over, that Emily's intention was to remain withLady Maria Bayne and that Lady Maria's intention was to keep her. Thescene between the three was far too subtle to be of the least use uponthe stage, but it was a good scene, nevertheless. Its expression waschiefly, perhaps, a matter of inclusion and exclusion, and may also havebeen largely telepathic; but after it was over, Lady Maria chuckledseveral times softly to herself, like an elderly bird of much humour, and Lady Malfry went home feeling exceedingly cross. 

She was in so perturbed a humour that she dropped her eyelids and lookedrather coldly down the bridge of her nose when her stupidly cheerylittle elderly husband said to her, --

"Well, Geraldine?"

"I beg pardon, " she replied. "I don't quite understand. "

"Of course you do. How about Emily Fox-Seton?"

"She seems very well, and of course she is well satisfied. It would notbe possible for her to be otherwise. Lady Maria Bayne has taken her up. "

"She is Walderhurst's cousin. Well, well! It will be an immense positionfor the girl. "

"Immense, " granted Lady Malfry, with a little flush. A certain tone inher voice conveyed that discussion was terminated. Sir George knew thather niece was not coming to them and that the immense position wouldinclude themselves but slightly. 

Emily was established temporarily at South Audley Street with Jane Cuppas her maid. She was to be married from Lady Maria's lean old arms, soto speak. Her ladyship derived her usual epicurean enjoyment from thewhole thing, --from too obviously thwarted mothers and daughters; fromWalderhurst, who received congratulations with a civilly inexpressivecountenance which usually baffled the observer; from Emily, who wasoverwhelmed by her emotions, and who was of a candour in action such asmight have appealed to any heart not adapted by the flintiness of itsnature to the macadamising of roads. 

If she had not been of the most unpretentious nice breeding andunaffected taste, Emily might have been ingenuously funny in her processof transformation. 

"I keep forgetting that I can afford things, " she said to Lady Maria. "Yesterday I walked such a long way to match a piece of silk, and when Iwas tired I got into a penny bus. I did not remember until it was toolate that I ought to have called a hansom. Do you think, " a shadeanxiously, "that Lord Walderhurst would mind?"

"Just for the present, perhaps, it would be as well that I should seethat you shop in the carriage, " her ladyship answered with a small grin. "When you are a marchioness you may make penny buses a feature of thedistinguished _insouciance_ of your character if you like. I shouldn'tmyself, because they jolt and stop to pick up people, but you can, withoriginality and distinction, if it amuses you. "

"It doesn't, " said Emily. "I hate them. I have longed to be able to takehansoms. Oh! how I have _longed_--when I was tired. "

The legacy left her by old Mrs. Maytham had been realised and depositedas a solid sum in a bank. Since she need no longer hoard the income oftwenty pounds a year, it was safe to draw upon her capital for herpresent needs. The fact made her feel comfortable. She could make herpreparations for the change in her life with a decent independence. Shewould have been definitely unhappy if she had been obliged to acceptfavours at this juncture. She felt as if she could scarcely have borneit. It seemed as if everything conspired to make her comfortable as wellas blissfully happy in these days. 

Lord Walderhurst found an interest in watching her and her methods. Hewas a man who, in certain respects, knew himself very well and had fewillusions respecting his own character. He had always been rather givento matter-of-fact analysis of his own emotions; and at Mallowe he hadonce or twice asked himself if it was not disagreeably possible that thefirst moderate glow of his St. Martin's summer might die away and leavehim feeling slightly fatigued and embarrassed by the new aspect of hispreviously regular and entirely self-absorbed existence. You might thinkthat you would like to marry a woman and then you might realise thatthere were objections--that even the woman herself, with all herdesirable qualities, might be an objection in the end, that any womanmight be an objection; in fact, that it required an effort to reconcileoneself to the fact of a woman's being continually about. Of course thearriving at such a conclusion, after one had committed oneself, would beannoying. Walderhurst had, in fact, only reflected upon this possibleaspect of affairs _before_ he had driven over the heath to pick Emilyup. Afterwards he had, in some remote portion of his mentality, vaguelyawaited developments. 

When he saw Emily day by day at South Audley Street, he found hecontinued to like her. He was not clever enough to analyse her; he couldonly watch her, and he always looked on at her with curiosity and anovel sensation rather like pleasure. She wakened up at sight of him, when he called, in a way that was attractive even to an unimaginativeman. Her eyes seemed to warm, and she often looked flushed and softlyappealing. He began to note vaguely that her dresses were better, andoftener changed, than they had been at Mallowe. A more observant manmight have been touched by the suggestion that she was unfolding petalby petal like a flower, and that each carefully chosen costume was a newpetal. He did not in the least suspect the reverent eagerness of hercare of herself as an object hoping to render itself worthy of hisqualities and tastes. 

His qualities and tastes were of no exalted importance in themselves, but they seemed so to Emily. It is that which by one chance or anotherso commends itself to a creature as to incite it to the emotion calledlove, which is really of importance, and which, not speaking in figures, holds the power of life and death. Personality sometimes achieves this, circumstances always aid it; but in all cases the result is the same andsways the world it exists in--during its existence. Emily Fox-Seton hadfallen deeply and touchingly in love with this particular prosaic, well-behaved nobleman, and her whole feminine being was absorbed in heradoration of him. Her tender fancy described him by adjectives such asno other human being would have assented to. She felt that he hadcondescended to her with a generosity which justified worship. This wasnot true, but it was true for her. As a consequence of this she thoughtout and purchased her wardrobe with a solemnity of purpose such as mightwell have been part of a religious ceremonial. When she consultedfashion plates and Lady Maria, or when she ordered a gown at herladyship's dressmaker's, she had always before her mind, not herself, but the Marchioness of Walderhurst--a Marchioness of Walderhurst whomthe Marquis would approve of and be pleased with. She did not expectfrom him what Sir Bruce Norman gave to Lady Agatha. 

Agatha and her lover were of a different world. She saw themoccasionally, not often, because the simple selfishness of young love soabsorbed them that they could scarcely realise the existence of otherpersons than themselves. They were to be married, and to depart forfairyland as soon as possible. Both were fond of travel, and when theytook ship together their intention was to girdle the world at leisure, if they felt so inclined. They could do anything they chose, and were soblissfully sufficient for each other that there was no reason why theyshould not follow their every errant fancy. 

The lines which had been increasing in Lady Claraway's face haddisappeared, and left her blooming with the beauty her daughters hadreproduced. This delightful marriage had smoothed away every difficulty. Sir Bruce was the "most charming fellow in England. " That fact acted asa charm in itself, it seemed. It was not necessary to go into details asto the mollifying of tradespeople and rearranging of the entire aspectof life at Curzon Street. When Agatha and Emily Fox-Seton met in townfor the first time--it was in the drawing room at South AudleyStreet--they clasped each other's hands with an exchange of entirely newlooks. 

"You look so--so _well_, Miss Fox-Seton, " said Agatha, with actualtenderness. 

If she had not been afraid of seeming a little rudely effusive she wouldhave said "handsome" instead of "well, " for Emily was sweetly blooming. 

"Happiness is becoming to you, " she added. "May I say how _glad_ I am?"

"Thank you, thank you!" Emily answered. "Everything in the world seemschanged, doesn't it?"

"Yes, everything. "

They stood and gazed into each other's eyes a few seconds, and thenloosed hands with a little laugh and sat down to talk. 

It was, in fact, Lady Agatha who talked most, because Emily Fox-Setonled her on and aided her to delicate expansion by her delight in allthat in these days made up her existence of pure bliss. It was as if anold-time fairy story were being enacted before Emily's eyes. Agathawithout doubt had grown lovelier, she thought; she seemed even fairer, more willowy, the forget-me-not eyes were of a happier blue, asforget-me-nots growing by clear water-sides are bluer than those grownin a mere garden. She appeared, perhaps, even a little taller, and hersmall head had, if such a thing were possible, a prettier flower-likepoise. This, at least, Emily thought, and found her own happiness addedto by her belief in her fancy. She felt that nothing was to be wonderedat when she heard Agatha speak of Sir Bruce. She could not utter hisname or refer to any act of his without a sound in her voice which hadits parallel in the light floating haze of blush on her cheeks. In herintercourse with the world in general she would have been able topreserve her customary sweet composure, but Emily Fox-Seton was not theworld. She represented a something which was so primitively of theemotions that one's heart spoke and listened to her. Agatha wasconscious that Miss Fox-Seton had seen at Mallowe--she could never quiteunderstand how it had seemed so naturally to happen--a phase of herfeelings which no one else had seen before. Bruce had seen it since, butonly Bruce. There had actually been a sort of confidence between them--aconfidence which had been like intimacy, though neither of them had beeneffusive. 

"Mamma is so happy, " the girl said. "It is quite wonderful. And Alix andHilda and Millicent and Eve--oh! it makes such a difference to them. Ishall be able, " with a blush which expressed a world of relievedaffection, "to give them so much pleasure. Any girl who marries happilyand--and well--can alter everything for her sisters, if she _remembers_. You see, I shall have reason to remember. I know things from experience. And Bruce is so kind, and gay, and proud of their prettiness. Justimagine their excitement at all being bridesmaids! Bruce says we shallbe like a garden of spring flowers. I am so glad, " her eyes suddenlyquite heavenly in their joyful relief, "that he is _young_!"

The next second the heavenly relieved look died away. The exclamationhad been involuntary. It had sprung from her memory of the days when shehad dutifully accepted, as her portion, the possibility of being smiledupon by Walderhurst, who was two years older than her father, and herswift realisation of this fact troubled her. It was indelicate to havereferred to the mental image even ever so vaguely. 

But Emily Fox-Seton was glad too that Sir Bruce was young, that theywere all young, and that happiness had come before they had had time totire of waiting for it. She was so happy herself that she questionednothing. 

"Yes. It is nice, " she answered, and glowed with honest sympathy. "Youwill want to do the same things. It is so agreeable when people who aremarried like to do the same things. Perhaps you will want to go out agreat deal and to travel, and you could not enjoy it if Sir Bruce didnot. "

She was not reflecting in the least upon domestic circles whose maleheads are capable of making themselves extremely nasty under stress ofinvitations it bores them to accept, and the inclination of wives anddaughters to desire acceptance. She was not contemplating with anypremonitory regrets a future in which, when Walderhurst did not wish togo out to dinner or disdained a ball, she should stay at home. Far fromit. She simply rejoiced with Lady Agatha, who was twenty-two marryingtwenty-eight. 

"You are not like me, " she explained further. "I have had to work sohard and contrive so closely that _everything_ will be a pleasure to me. Just to know that I _never_ need starve to death or go into theworkhouse is such a relief that--"

"Oh!" exclaimed Lady Agatha, quickly and involuntarily laying a hand onhers, startled by the fact that she spoke as if referring to a whollymatter-of-fact possibility. 

Emily smiled, realising her feeling. 

"Perhaps I ought not to have said that. I forgot. But such things arepossible when one is too old to work and has nothing to depend on. Youcould scarcely understand. When one is very poor one is frightened, because occasionally one cannot help thinking of it. "

"But now--now! Oh! how different!" exclaimed Agatha, with heartfeltearnestness. 

"Yes. Now I need never be afraid. It makes me so grateful to--LordWalderhurst. "

Her neck grew pink as she said it, just as Lady Maria had seen it growpink on previous occasions. Moderate as the words were, they expressedardour. 

Lord Walderhurst came in half an hour later and found her standingsmiling by the window. 

"You look particularly well, Emily. It's that white frock, I suppose. You ought to wear a good deal of white, " he said. 

"I will, " Emily answered. He observed that she wore the nice flush andthe soft appealing look, as well as the white frock. "I wish--"

Here she stopped, feeling a little foolish. 

"What do you wish?"

"I wish I could do more to please you than wear white--or black--whenyou like. "

He gazed at her, always through the single eyeglass. Even the vaguestapproach to emotion or sentiment invariably made him feel stiff and shy. Realising this, he did not quite understand why he rather liked it inthe case of Emily Fox-Seton, though he only liked it remotely and felthis own inaptness a shade absurd. 

"Wear yellow or pink occasionally, " he said with a brief, awkward laugh. 

What large, honest eyes the creature had, like a fine retriever's orthose of some nice animal one saw in the Zoo!

"I will wear anything you like, " she said, the nice eyes meeting his, not the least stupidly, he reflected, though women who were affectionateoften looked stupid. "I will do anything you like; you don't know whatyou have done for me, Lord Walderhurst. "

They moved a trifle nearer to each other, this inarticulate pair. Hedropped his eyeglass and patted her shoulder. 

"Say 'Walderhurst' or 'James'--or--or 'my dear, '" he said. "We are goingto be married, you know. " And he found himself going to the length ofkissing her cheek with some warmth. 

"I sometimes wish, " she said feelingly, "that it was the fashion to say'my lord' as Lady Castlewood used to do in 'Esmond. ' I always thought itnice. "

"Women are not so respectful to their husbands in these days, " heanswered, with his short laugh. "And men are not so dignified. "

"Lord Castlewood was not very dignified, was he?"

He chuckled a little. 

"No. But his rank was, in the reign of Queen Anne. These are democraticdays. I'll call you 'my lady' if you like. "

"Oh! No--no!" with fervour, "I wasn't thinking of anything like that. "

"I know you were not, " he reassured her. "You are not that kind ofwoman. "

"Oh! how _could_ I be?"

"_You_ couldn't, " good-naturedly. "That's why I like you. "

Then he began to tell her his reason for calling at this particularhour. He came to prepare her for a visit from the Osborns, who hadactually just returned from India. Captain Osborn had chosen, or chancehad chosen for him, this particular time for a long leave. As soon asshe heard the name of Osborn, Emily's heart beat a little quickly. Shehad naturally learned a good deal of detail from Lady Maria since herengagement. Alec Osborn was the man who, since Lord Walderhurst'sbecoming a widower, had lived in the gradually strengthening belief thatthe chances were that it would be his enormous luck to inherit the titleand estates of the present Marquis of Walderhurst. He was not a verynear relation, but he was the next of kin. He was a young man and astrong one, and Walderhurst was fifty-four and could not be calledrobust. His medical man did not consider him a particularly good life, though he was not often ill. 

"He's not the kind of chap who lives to be a hundred and fifty. I'll saythat for him, " Alec Osborn had said at mess after dinner had made himcareless of speech, and he had grinned not too pleasantly when heuttered the words. "The only thing that would completely wipe my eyeisn't as likely to happen to him as to most men. He's unsentimental andlevel headed, and doesn't like marriage. You can imagine how he'schivied by women. A fellow in his position couldn't be let alone. But hedoesn't like marriage, and he's a man who knows jolly well what he likesand what he doesn't. The only child died, and if he doesn't marry again, I'm in a safe place. Good Lord! the difference it would make!" and hisgrin extended itself. 

It was three months after this that the Marquis of Walderhurst followedEmily Fox-Seton out upon the heath, and finding her sitting footsore anddepressed in spirit beside the basket of Lady Maria's fish, asked her tomarry him. 

When the news reached him, Alec Osborn went and shut himself up in hisquarters and blasphemed until his face was purple and big drops of sweatran down it. It was black bad luck--it was black bad luck, and it calledfor black curses. What the articles of furniture in the room in thebungalow heard was rather awful, but Captain Osborn did not feel that itdid justice to the occasion. 

When her husband strode by her to his apartment, Mrs. Osborn did notattempt to follow him. She had only been married two years, but she knewhis face too well; and she also knew too well all the meaning of thefury contained in the words he flung at her as he hurled himself pasther. 

"Walderhurst is going to be married!" Mrs. Osborn ran into her own roomand sat down clutching at her hair as she dropped her face in her littledark hands. She was an Anglo-Indian girl who had never been home, andhad not had much luck in life at any time, and her worst luck had beenin being handed over by her people to this particular man, chieflybecause he was the next of kin to Lord Walderhurst. She was a curious, passionate creature, and had been in love with him in her way. Herfamily had been poor and barely decently disreputable. She had lived onthe outskirts of things, full of intense girlish vanity and yearningsfor social recognition, poorly dressed, passed over and snubbed bypeople she aspired to know socially, seeing other girls with less beautyand temperament enjoying flirtations with smart young officers, bitingher tongue out with envy and bitterness of thwarted spirit. So whenCaptain Osborn cast an eye on her and actually began a sentimentalepisode, her relief and excitement at finding herself counting as othergirls did wrought itself up into a passion. Her people were prompt andsharp enough to manage the rest, and Osborn was married before he knewexactly whither he was tending. He was not pleased with himself when hewakened to face facts. He could only console himself for having beencleverly led and driven into doing the thing he did not want to do, bythe facts that the girl was interesting and clever and had a good dealof odd un-English beauty. 

It was a beauty so un-English that it would perhaps appear to itsgreatest advantage in the contrasts afforded by life in England. She wasso dark, of heavy hair and drooping-lidded eyes and fine grained skin, and so sinuous of lithe, slim body, that among native beauties sheseemed not to be sufficiently separated by marks of race. She hadtumbled up from childhood among native servants, who were almost hersole companions, and who had taught her curious things. She knew theirstories and songs, and believed in more of their occult beliefs than anybut herself knew. 

She knew things which made her interesting to Alec Osborn, who had abullet head and a cruel lower jaw, despite a degree of the ordinary goodlooks. The fact that his chances were good for becoming Marquis ofWalderhurst and taking her home to a life of English luxury andsplendour was a thing she never forgot. It haunted her in her sleep. Shehad often dreamed of Oswyth Castle and of standing amidst great peopleon the broad lawns her husband had described feelingly during tropicaldays when they had sat together panting for breath. When there had beenmention made of the remote, awful possibility that Walderhurst mightsurrender to the siege laid to him, she had turned sick at the thought. It made her clench her hands until the nails almost pressed into theskin of her palms. She could not bear it. She had made Osborn burst intoa big, harsh laugh one day when she had hinted to him that there wereoccult things to be done which might prevent ill luck. He had laughedfirst and scowled afterwards, cynically saying that she might as well beworking them up. 

He had not come out to India followed by regrets and affection. He hadbeen a black sheep at home, and had rather been hustled away thanotherwise. If he had been a more admirable kind of fellow, Walderhurstwould certainly have made him an allowance; but his manner of life hadbeen such as the Marquis had no patience with in men of any class, andespecially abhorred in men whom the accident of birth connected withgood names. He had not been lavish in his demonstrations of interest inthe bullet-headed young man. Osborn's personableness was not of a kindattractive to the unbiassed male observer. Men saw his cruel young jowland low forehead, and noticed that his eyes were small. He had a good, swaggering military figure to which uniform was becoming, and a kind ofanimal good looks which would deteriorate early. His colour would fixand deepen with the aid of steady daily drinking, and his features wouldcoarsen and blur, until by the time he was forty the young jowl wouldhave grown heavy and would end by being his most prominent feature. 

While he had remained in England, Walderhurst had seen him occasionally, and had only remarked and heard unpleasant things of him, --a tendency toselfish bad manners, reckless living, and low flirtation. He once sawhim on the top of a bus with his arm round the waist of an awful, giggling shop-girl kind of person, who was adorned with tremendousfeathers and a thick fringe coming unfrizzled with the heat and stickingout here and there in straight locks on her moist forehead. Osbornthought that the arm business had been cleverly managed with suchfurtiveness that no one could see it, but Walderhurst was drivingsolemnly by in his respectable barouche, and he found himself gazingthrough his monocle directly at his relative, and seeing, from thestreet below, the point at which the young man's arm lost itself underthe profusely beaded short cape. A dull flush rose to his countenance, and he turned away without showing any sign of recognition; but he wasannoyed and disgusted, because this particular kind of blatantly vulgarbad taste was the sort of thing he loathed. It was the sort of thingwhich made duchesses of women who did alluring "turns" at music halls orsang suggestive songs in comic opera, and transformed into thechatelaines of ancient castles young persons who had presided at theribbon counter. He saw as little as possible of his heir presumptiveafter this, and if the truth were told, Captain Alec Osborn wassomething of a factor in the affair of Miss Emily Fox-Seton. IfWalderhurst's infant son had lived, or if Osborn had been a refined, even if dull, fellow, there are ten chances to one his lordship wouldhave chosen no second marchioness. 

Captain Osborn's life in India had not ended in his making no furtherdebts. He was not a man to put the brake on in the matter ofself-indulgence. He got into debt so long as a shred of credit remainedto him, and afterwards he tried to add to his resources by cards andbetting at races. He made and lost by turn, and was in a desperate statewhen he got his leave. He applied for it because he had conceived theidea that his going home as a married man might be a good thing for him. Hester, it seemed not at all improbable, might accomplish something withWalderhurst. If she talked to him in her interesting semi-Oriental way, and was fervid and picturesque in her storytelling, he might beattracted by her. She had her charm, and when she lifted the heavy lidsof her long black eyes and fixed her gaze upon her hearer as she talkedabout the inner side of native life, of which she knew such curious, intimate things, people always listened, even in India, where the thingwas not so much of a novelty, and in England she might be a sort ofsensation. 

Osborn managed to convey to her gradually, by a process of his own, agreat deal of what he wanted her to do. During the months before thematter of the leave was quite decided, he dropped a word here and therewhich carried a good deal of suggestion to a mind used to seizing onpassing intimations. The woman who had been Hester's Ayah when she was achild had become her maid. She was a woman with a wide, silentacquaintance with her own people. She was seldom seen talking to anyoneand seldom seemed to leave the house, but she always knew everything. Her mistress was aware that if at any time she chose to ask her aquestion about the secret side of things concerning black or whitepeoples, she would receive information to be relied upon. She felt thatshe could have heard from her many things concerning her husband's past, present, and future, and that the matter of the probable succession wasfully comprehended by her. 

When she called her into the room after recovering outwardly from herhour of desperation, she saw that the woman was already aware of theblow that had fallen upon the household. What they said to each otherneed not be recorded here, but there was more in the conversation thanthe mere words uttered, and it was one of several talks held before Mrs. Osborn sailed for England with her husband. 

"He may be led into taking into consideration the fact that he has cutthe ground from under a fellow's feet and left him dangling in the air, "said Osborn to his wife. "Best thing will be to make friends with thewoman, hang her!"

"Yes, Alec, yes, " Hester Osborn answered, just a little feverishly. "Wemust make friends with her. They say she is a good sort and wasfrightfully poor herself. "

"She won't be poor now, hang her!" remarked Captain Osborn with addedfervour. "I should like to break her neck! I wonder if she rides?"

"I'm sure she has not been well enough off to do anything like that. "

"Good idea to begin to teach her. " And he laughed as he turned on hisheel and began to walk the deck with a fellow passenger. 

It was these people Lord Walderhurst had come to prepare her for. 

"Maria has told you about them, I know, " he said. "I dare say she hasbeen definite enough to explain that I consider Osborn altogetherundesirable. Under the veneer of his knowledge of decent customs he is acad. I am obliged to behave civilly to the man, but I dislike him. If hehad been born in a low class of life, he would have been a criminal. "

"Oh!" Emily exclaimed. 

"Any number of people would be criminals if circumstances did notinterfere. It depends a good deal on the shape of one's skull. "

"Oh!" exclaimed Emily again, "do you think so?"

She believed that people who were bad were bad from preference, thoughshe did not at all understand the preference. She had accepted from herchildhood everything she had ever heard said in a pulpit. ThatWalderhurst should propound ideas such as ministers of the Church ofEngland might regard as heretical startled her, but he could have saidnothing startling enough to shake her affectionate allegiance. 

"Yes, I do, " he answered. "Osborn's skull is quite the wrong shape. "

But when, a short time after, Captain Osborn brought the skull inquestion into the room, covered in the usual manner with neatly brushed, close-cropped hair, Emily thought it a very nice shape indeed. Perhaps atrifle hard and round-looking and low of forehead, but not shelving orbulging as the heads of murderers in illustrated papers generally did. She owned to herself that she did not see what Lord Walderhurstevidently saw, but then she did not expect of herself an intelligenceprofound enough to follow his superior mental flights. 

Captain Osborn was well groomed and well mannered, and his demeanourtowards herself was all that the most conventional could have demanded. When she reflected that she herself represented in a way the possibledestruction of his hopes of magnificent fortune, she felt almosttenderly towards him, and thought his easy politeness wonderful. Mrs. Osborn, too! How interesting and how beautiful in an odd way Mrs. Osbornwas! Every movement of her exceeding slimness was curiously graceful. Emily remembered having read novels whose heroines were described as"undulating. " Mrs. Osborn was undulating. Her long, drooping, and denseblack eyes were quite unlike other girls' eyes. Emily had never seenanything like them. And she had such a lonely, slow, shy way of liftingthem to look at people. She was obliged to look up at tall Emily. Sheseemed a schoolgirl as she stood near her. Emily was the kind ofmistaken creature whose conscience, awakening to unnecessary remorses, causes its owner at once to assume all the burdens which Fate has laidupon the shoulders of others. She began to feel like a criminal herself, irrespective of the shape of her skull. Her own inordinate happiness andfortune had robbed this unoffending young couple. She wished that it hadnot been so, and vaguely reproached herself without reasoning the matterout to a conclusion. At all events, she was remorsefully sympathetic inher mental attitude towards Mrs. Osborn, and being sure that she wasfrightened of her husband's august relative, felt nervous herselfbecause Lord Walderhurst bore himself with undated courtesy and kept hismonocle fixed in his eye throughout the interview. If he had let it dropand allowed it to dangle in an unbiassed manner from its cord, Emilywould have felt more comfortable, because she was sure his demeanourwould have appeared a degree more encouraging to the Osborns. 

"Are you glad to be in England again?" she asked Mrs. Osborn. 

"I never was here before, " answered the young woman. "I have never beenanywhere but in India. "

In the course of the conversation she explained that she had not been adelicate child, and also conveyed that even if she had been one, herpeople could not have afforded to send her home. Instinct revealed toEmily that she had not had many of the good things of life, and that shewas not a creature of buoyant spirits. The fact that she had spent agood many hours of most of her young days in reflecting on her ill-luckhad left its traces on her face, particularly in the depths of herslow-moving, black eyes. 

They had come, it appeared, in the course of duty, to pay their respectsto the woman who was to be their destruction. To have neglected to do sowould have made them seem to assume an indiscreet attitude towards themarriage. 

"They can't like it, of course, " Lady Maria summed them up afterwards, "but they have made up their minds to lump it as respectably aspossible. "

"I am _so_ sorry for them, " said Emily. 

"Of course you are. And you will probably show them all sorts ofindiscreet kindnesses, but don't be too altruistic, my good Emily. Theman is odious, and the girl looks like a native beauty. She ratherfrightens me. "

"I don't think Captain Osborn is odious, " Emily answered. "And she _is_pretty, you know. She is frightened of us, really. "

Remembering days when she herself had been at a disadvantage with peoplewho were fortunate enough to be of importance, and recalling what hersecret tremor before them had been, Emily was very nice indeed to littleMrs. Osborn. She knew from experience things which would be of use toher--things about lodgings and things about shops. Osborn had takenlodgings in Duke Street, and Emily knew the quarter thoroughly. Walderhurst watched her being nice, through his fixed eyeglass, and hedecided that she had really a very good manner. Its goodness consistedlargely in its directness. While she never brought forth unnecessarilyrecollections of the days when she had done other people's shopping andhad purchased for herself articles at sales marked 11-3/4_d_, she wasinterestingly free from any embarrassment in connection with the facts. Walderhurst, who had been much bored by himself and other people in timepast, actually found that it gave a fillip to existence to look on at awoman who, having been one of the hardest worked of the genteellabouring classes, was adapting herself to the role of marchioness bythe simplest of processes, and making a very nice figure at it too, inher entirely unbrilliant way. If she had been an immensely clever woman, there would have been nothing special in it. She was not clever at all, yet Walderhurst had seen her produce effects such as a clever womanmight have laboured for and only attained by a stroke of genius. As, forinstance, when she had met for the first time after her engagement, acertain particularly detestable woman of rank, to whom her relation toWalderhurst was peculiarly bitter. The Duchess of Merwold had countedthe Marquis as her own, considering him fitted by nature to be thespouse of her eldest girl, a fine young woman with projecting teeth, whohad hung fire. She felt Emily Fox-Seton's incomprehensible success to bea piece of impudent presumption, and she had no reason to restrain theexpression of her sentiments so long as she conveyed them by methods ofinference and inclusion. 

"You must let me congratulate you very warmly, Miss Fox-Seton, " shesaid, pressing her hand with maternal patronage. "Your life has changedgreatly since we last saw each other. "

"Very greatly indeed, " Emily flushed frankly in innocent gratitude asshe answered. "You are very kind. Thank you, thank you. "

"Yes, a great change. " Walderhurst saw that her smile was feline andasked himself what the woman was going to say next. "The last time wemet you called to ask me about the shopping you were to do for me. Doyou remember? Stockings and gloves, I think. "

Walderhurst observed that she expected Emily to turn red and showherself at a loss before the difficulties of the situation. He was onthe point of cutting into the conversation and disposing of the matterhimself when he realised that Emily was neither gaining colour norlosing it, but was looking honestly into her Grace's eyes with just atouch of ingenuous regret. 

"It was stockings, " she said. "There were some marked down to one andelevenpence halfpenny at Barratt's. They were really _quite_ good forthe price. And you wanted four pairs. And when I got there they were allgone, and those at two and three were not the least bit better. I was sodisappointed. It was too bad!"

Walderhurst fixed his monocle firmly to conceal the fact that he wasverging upon a cynical grin. The woman was known to be the stingiest ofsmall great persons in London, her economies were noted, and thisincident was even better than many others society had already rejoicedover. The picture raised in the minds of the hearers of her Grace foiledin the purchase of stockings marked down to 1_s_. 11-1/2_d_. Would be asource of rapture for some time to come. And Emily's face! The regretfulkindness of it, the retrospective sympathy and candid feeling! It wasincredibly good!

"And she did it quite by accident!" he repeated to himself in his inwardglee. "She did it quite by accident! She's not clever enough to havedone it on purpose. What a brilliantly witty creature she would be ifshe had invented it!"

As she had been able unreluctantly to recall her past upon thisoccasion, so she was able to draw for Mrs. Osborn's benefit from theexperience it had afforded her. She wanted to make up to her, in suchways as she could, for the ill turn she had inadvertently done her. Asshe had at once ranged herself as an aid on the side of Lady Agatha, soshe ranged herself entirely without obtrusiveness on the side of theOsborns. 

"It's true that she's a good sort, " Hester said when they went away. "Her days of being hard up are not far enough away to be forgotten. Shehasn't any affectation, at any rate. It makes it easier to stand her. "

"She looks like a strong woman, " said Osborn. "Walderhurst got a gooddeal for his money. She'll make a strapping British matron. "

Hester winced and a dusky red shot up in her cheek. "So she will, " shesighed. 

It was quite true, and the truer it was the worse for people whodespairingly hung on and were foolish enough to hope against hope. 

Chapter Eight

The marriage of Lady Agatha came first, and was a sort of pageant. Thefemale writers for fashion papers lived upon it for weeks before itoccurred and for some time after. There were numberless things to bewritten about it. Each flower of the garden of girls was to bedescribed, with her bridesmaid's dress, and the exquisite skin and eyesand hair which would stamp her as the beauty of her season when she cameout. There yet remained five beauties in Lady Claraway's possession, andthe fifth was a baby thing of six, who ravished all beholders as shetoddled into church carrying her sister's train, aided by a little boypage in white velvet and point lace. 

The wedding was the most radiant of the year. It was indeed a fairypageant, of youth and beauty, and happiness and hope. 

One of the most interesting features of the occasion was the presence ofthe future Marchioness of Walderhurst, "the beautiful Miss Fox-Seton. "The fashion papers were very strenuous on the subject of Emily's beauty. One of them mentioned that the height and pose of her majestic figureand the cut of her profile suggested the Venus of Milo. Jane Cupp cutout every paragraph she could find and, after reading them aloud to heryoung man, sent them in a large envelope to Chichester. Emily, faithfully endeavouring to adjust herself to the demands of herapproaching magnificence, was several times alarmed by descriptions ofher charms and accomplishments which she came upon accidentally in thecourse of her reading of various periodicals. 

The Walderhurst wedding was dignified and distinguished, but notradiant. The emotions Emily passed through during the day--from herawakening almost at dawn to the silence of her bedroom at South AudleyStreet, until evening closed in upon her sitting in the private parlourof an hotel in the company of the Marquis of Walderhurst--it wouldrequire too many pages to describe. 

Her first realisation of the day brought with it the physicalconsciousness that her heart was thumping--steadily thumping, which isquite a different matter from the ordinary beating--at the realisationof what had come at last. An event which a year ago the wildest dreamcould not have depicted for her was to-day an actual fact; a fortunesuch as she would have thought of with awe if it had befallen anotherwoman, had befallen her unpretending self. She passed her hand over herforehead and gasped as she thought of it. 

"I hope I shall be able to get accustomed to it and not be a--adisappointment, " she said. "Oh!" with a great rising wave of a blush, "how good of him! How can I _ever_--"

She lived through the events of the day in a sort of dream within adream. When Jane Cupp brought her tea, she found herself involuntarilymaking a mental effort to try to look as if she was really awake. Jane, who was an emotional creature, was inwardly so shaken by her feelingsthat she herself had stood outside the door a few moments biting herlips to keep them from trembling, before she dared entirely trustherself to come in. Her hand was far from steady as she set down thetray. 

"Good morning, Jane, " Emily said, by way of trying the sound of hervoice. 

"Good morning, miss, " Jane answered. "It's a beautiful morning, miss. Ihope--you are very well?"

And then the day had begun. 

Afterwards it marched on with solemn thrill and stately movement throughhours of wondrous preparation for an imposing function, through thesplendid gravity of the function itself, accompanied by brilliant crowdscollected and looking on in a fashionable church, and motley crowdscollected to look on outside the edifice, the latter pushing andjostling each other and commenting in more or less respectful if excitedundertones, but throughout devouring with awe-struck or envious eyes. Great people whom Emily had only known through the frequent mention oftheir names in newspapers or through their relationship or intimacy withher patrons, came to congratulate her in her rôle of bride. She seemedto be for hours the centre of a surging, changing crowd, and her onethought was to bear herself with an outward semblance of composure. Noone but herself could know that she was saying internally over and overagain, to steady herself, making it all seem real, "I am being married. This is my wedding. I am Emily Fox-Seton being married to the Marquis ofWalderhurst. For his sake I must not look stupid or excited. I am not ina dream. "

How often she said this after the ceremony was over and they returned toSouth Audley Street, for the wedding breakfast could scarcely becomputed. When Lord Walderhurst helped her from the carriage and shestepped on to the strip of red carpet and saw the crowd on each side ofit and the coachman and footmen with their big white wedding favours andthe line of other equipages coming up, her head whirled. 

"That's the Marchioness, " a young woman with a bandbox exclaimed, nudging her companion. "That's 'er! Looks a bit pale, doesn't she?"

"But, oh Gawd! look at them di-monds an' pearls--jess look at 'em!"cried the other. "Wish it was me. "

The breakfast seemed splendid and glittering and long; people seemedsplendid and glittering and far off; and by the time Emily went tochange her bridal magnificence for her travelling costume she had borneas much strain as she was equal to. She was devoutly grateful for therelief of finding herself alone in her bedroom with Jane Cupp. 

"Jane, " she said, "you know exactly how many minutes I can dress in andjust when I must get into the carriage. Can you give me five minutes tolie down quite flat and dab my forehead with eau de cologne? Fiveminutes, Jane. But be quite sure. "

"Yes, miss--I do beg pardon--my lady. You can have five--safe. "

She took no more, --Jane went into the dressing-room and stood near itsdoor, holding the watch in her hand, --but even five minutes did hergood. 

She felt less delirious when she descended the stairs and passed throughthe crowds again on Lord Walderhurst's arm. She seemed to walk through agarden in resplendent bloom. Then there were the red carpet once more, and the street people, and the crowd of carriages and liveries, and big, white favours. 

Inside the carriage, and moving away to the echo of the street people'scheer, she tried to turn and look at Lord Walderhurst with an unalarmed, if faint, smile. 

"Well, " he said, with the originality which marked him, "it is reallyover!"

"Yes, " Emily agreed with him. "And I never can forget Lady Maria'sgoodness. "

Walderhurst gazed at her with a dawning inquiry in his mind. He himselfdid not know what the inquiry was. But it was something a triflestimulating. It had something to do with the way in which she hadcarried herself throughout the whole thing. Really few women could havedone it as well. The pale violet of her travelling costume which wastouched with sable was becoming to her fine, straight figure. And at themoment her eyes rested on his with the suggestion of trustful appeal. Despite the inelasticity of his mind, he vaguely realised his bridegroomhonours. 

"I can begin now, " he said with stiff lightness, if such a paradox canbe, "to address you as the man in Esmond addressed his wife. I can callyou 'my lady. '"

"Oh!" she said, still trying to smile, but quivering. 

"You look very nice, " he said. "Upon my word you do. "

And kissed her trembling honest mouth almost as if he had been aman--not quite--but almost. 

Chapter Nine

They began the new life at Palstrey Manor, which was ancient and mostbeautiful. Nothing Walderhurst owned was as perfect an example of oldentime beauty, and as wonderful for that reason. Emily almost wept beforethe loveliness of it, though it would not have been possible for her toexplain or particularise the grounds for her emotion. She knew nothingwhatever of the venerable wonders of the architecture. To her the placelooked like an immense, low-built, rambling fairy palace--the palace ofsome sleeping beauty during whose hundred years of slumber richdark-green creepers had climbed and overgrown its walls and towers, enfolding and festooning them with leaves and tendrils and actualbranches. The huge park held an enchanted forest of trees; the longavenue of giant limes, their writhen limbs arching and interlocking, their writhen roots deep in velvet moss, was an approach suited to afairy story. 

 * * * * *

During her first month at Palstrey Emily went about still in her dream. It became more a dream every day. The old house was part of it, theendless rooms, the wonderful corridors, the gardens with theirrevelations of winding walks, labyrinths of evergreens, and grass pathsleading into beautiful unexpected places, where one suddenly came upondeep, clear pools where water plants grew and slow carp had dreamedcenturies away. The gardens caused Emily to disbelieve in the existenceof Mortimer Street, but the house at times caused her to disbelieve inherself. The picture gallery especially had this effect upon her. Themen and women, once as alive as her everyday self, now gazing down ather from their picture frames sometimes made her heart beat as if shestood in the presence of things eerie. Their strange, rich, ugly, orbeautiful garments, their stolid or fervid, ugly or beautiful, faces, seemed to demand something of her; at least she had just enoughimagination to feel somewhat as if they did. Walderhurst was very kindto her, but she was afraid she might bore him by the exceeding ignoranceof her questions about people whom he had known from his childhood ashis own kith and kin. It was not unlikely that one might have become sofamiliar with a man in armour or a woman in a farthingale that questionsconnected with them might seem silly. Persons whose ancestors had alwaysgazed intimately at them from walls might not unnaturally forget thatthere were other people to whom they might wear only the far-away aspectof numbers in catalogues of the Academy, or exhibitions of that order. 

There was a very interesting catalogue of the Palstrey pictures, andEmily found and studied it with deep interest. She cherished a touchingsecret desire to know what might be discoverable concerning the womenwho had been Marchionesses of Walderhurst before. None of them butherself, she gathered, had come to their husbands from bed-sitting roomsin obscure streets. There had been noble Hyrsts in the reign of HenryI. , and the period since then elapsed had afforded time for numerousbridals. Lady Walderhurst was overcome at moments by her reflectionsupon what lay behind and before her, but not being a complex person orof fervid imagination, she was spared by nature the fevers of complexemotions. 

In fact, after a few weeks had passed she came out of her dream andfound her happiness enduring and endurable. Each day's awakening was adelight to her, and would probably be so to the end of her existence, absolutely because she was so sane and uncomplex a creature. To bedeftly assisted in her dressing by Jane Cupp, and to know that eachmorning she might be fittingly and becomingly attired without anxiety asto where her next gown was to come from, was a lovely thing. To enjoythe silent, perfect workings of the great household, to drive herself orbe driven, to walk and read, to loiter through walled gardens andhothouses at will, --such things to a healthy woman with an unobscuredpower of enjoyment were luxuries which could not pall. 

Walderhust found her an actual addition to his comfort. She was never inthe way. She seemed to have discovered the trick of coming and goingundisturbingly. She was docile and affectionate, but not in the leastsentimental. He had known men whose first years of marriage, not tospeak of the first months, had been rendered unbearable by the fact thattheir wives were constantly demanding or expecting the expression ofsentiments which unsentimental males had not at their fingers' ends. Sothe men had been annoyed or bored, and the women had been dissatisfied. Emily demanded nothing of the sort, and was certainly not dissatisfied. She looked very handsome and happy. Her looks positively improved, andwhen people began to call and she to pay visits, she was very muchliked. He had certainly been quite right in deciding to ask her to marryhim. If she had a son, he should congratulate himself greatly. The morehe saw of Osborn the more he disliked him. It appeared that there was aprospect of a child there. 

This last was indeed true, and Emily had been much touched and awakenedto sympathy. It had gradually become revealed to her that the Osbornswere poorer than they could decently admit. Emily had discovered thatthey could not even remain in the lodgings in Duke Street, though shedid not know the reason, which was that Captain Osborn had been obligedto pay certain moneys to stave off a scandal not entirely unconnectedwith the young woman his arm had encircled the day Walderhurst had seenhim on the top of the bus. He was very well aware that if he was toobtain anything from Lord Walderhurst, there were several things whichmust be kept entirely dark. Even a scandal belonging to the past couldbe made as unpleasant as an error of to-day. Also the young woman of thebead cape knew how to manage him. But they must remove to cheaperlodgings, and the rooms in Duke Street had been far from desirable. 

Lady Walderhurst came in one morning from a walk, with a fresh colourand bright eyes, and before taking off her hat went to her husband'sstudy. 

"May I come in?"

Walderhurst had been writing some uninteresting letters and looked upwith a smile. 

"Certainly, " he answered. "What a colour you have! Exercise agrees withyou. You ought to ride. "

"That was what Captain Osborn said. If you don't mind, I should like toask you something. "

"I don't mind. You are a reasonable woman, Emily. One's safe with you. "

"It is something connected with the Osborns. "

"Indeed!" chilling slightly. "I don't care about them, you know. "

"You don't dislike her, do you?"

"No-o, not exactly. "

"She's--the truth is, she is not at all well, " with a trifle ofhesitance; "she ought to be better taken care of than she is inlodgings, and they are obliged to take very cheap ones. "

"If he had been a more respectable fellow his circumstances would havebeen different, " rather stiffly. 

Emily felt alarmed. She had not dreamed of the temerity of any remarksuggestive of criticism. 

"Yes, " hastily, "of course. I am sure you know best; but--I thoughtperhaps--"

Walderhurst liked her timidity. To see a fine, tall, upstanding creaturecolour in that way was not disagreeable when one realised that shecoloured because she feared she might offend one. 

"What did you think 'perhaps'?" was his lenient response. 

Her colour grew warmer, but this time from a sense of relief, because hewas evidently not as displeased as he might have been. 

"I took a long walk this morning, " she said. "I went through the HighWood and came out by the place called The Kennel Farm. I was thinking agood deal of poor Mrs. Osborn because I had heard from her this morning, and she seemed so unhappy. I was looking at her letter again when Iturned into the lane leading to the house. Then I saw that no one wasliving there, and I could not help going in to look--it is such adelightful old building, with its queer windows and chimneys, and theivy which seems never to have been clipped. The house is so roomy andcomfortable--I peeped in at windows and saw big fireplaces with benchesinside them. It seems a pity that such a place should not be lived inand--well, I thought how _kind_ it would be of you to lend it to theOsborns while they are in England. "

"It would indeed be kind, " remarked his lordship, without fervour. 

Her momentary excitement led Emily to take the liberty of putting outher hand to touch his. She always felt as if connubial familiaritieswere rather a liberty; at least she had not, so far, been able toovercome a feeling rather of that order. And this was another thingWalderhurst by no means disliked. He himself was not aware that he was aman with a good deal of internal vanity which enjoyed soothing food. Infact, he had not a sufficiently large brain to know very much abouthimself or to be able to analyse his reasons for liking or dislikingpeople or things. He thought he knew his reasons for his likes anddislikes, but he was frequently very far away from the clear, impersonaltruth about them. Only the brilliant logic and sensitiveness of geniusreally approaches knowledge of itself, and as a result it is usuallyextremely unhappy. Walderhurst was never unhappy. He was sometimesdissatisfied or annoyed, but that was as far as his emotions went. 

Being pleased by the warm touch of Emily's hand, he patted her wrist andlooked agreeably marital. 

"The place was built originally for a family huntsman, and the pack waskept there. That is why it is called The Kennel Farm. When the lastlease fell out it remained unlet because I don't care for an ordinarytenant. It's the kind of house that is becoming rare, and the bumpkinfarmer and his family don't value antiquities. "

"If it were furnished as it _could_ be furnished, " said Emily, "it wouldbe _beautiful_. One _can_ get old things in London if one can affordthem. I've seen them when I've been shopping. They are not cheap, butyou can get them if you really search. "

"Would you like to furnish it?" Walderhurst inquired. The consciousnessthat he could, if he chose, do the utmost thing of its kind in this way, at the moment assumed a certain proportion of interest to him under thestimulation of the wonder and delight which leaped into Emily's eyes asthe possibility confronted her. Having been born without imagination, his wealth had not done for him anything out of the ordinary every-dayorder. 

"Would I _like_ to do it? Oh, _dear_!" she exclaimed. "Why, in all mylife I have never _dreamed_ of being able to do such things. "

That, of course, was true, he reflected, and the fact added to hisappreciation of the moment. There were, of course, many people to whomit would be impossible to contemplate the spending of a sum of money ofany importance in the indulgence of a wish founded on mere taste. He hadnot thought of the thing particularly in detail before, and now that herealised the significance of the fact as a fact, Emily had afforded hima new sensation. 

"You may do it now, if you wish, " he said. "I once went over the placewith an architect, and he said the whole thing could be made comfortableand the atmosphere of the period wholly retained for about a thousandpounds. It is not really dilapidated and it is worth saving. The gablesand chimneys are very fine. I will attend to that, and you can do therest in your own way. "

"It may take a good deal of money to buy the old things, " gasped Emily. "They are not cheap in these days. People have found out that they arewanted. "

"It won't cost twenty thousand pounds, " Walderhurst answered. "It is afarm-house after all, and you are a practical woman. Restore it. Youhave my permission. "

Emily put her hands over her eyes. This was being the Marchioness ofWalderhurst, and made Mortimer Street a thing still more incredible. When she dropped her hands, she laughed even a trifle hysterically. 

"I _couldn't_ thank you, " she said. "It is as I said. I never quitebelieved there were people who were able to think of doing such things. "

"There are such people, " he said. "You are one of them. "

"And--and--" She put it to him with a sudden recollection of the thingher emotions had momentarily swept away. "Oh! I must not forget, becauseI am so pleased. When it is furnished--"

"Oh! the Osborns? Well, we will let them have it for a few months, atany rate. "

"They will be so _thankful_, " emotionally. "You will be doing them_such_ a favour. "

"I am doing it for you, not for them. I like to see you pleased. "

She went to take off her hat with moisture in her eyes, beingoverpowered by his munificence. When she reached her room she walkedabout a little, because she was excited, and then sat down to think ofthe relief her next letter would carry to Mrs. Osborn. Suddenly she gotup, and, going to her bedside, knelt down. She respectfully poured forthdevout thanks to the Deity she appealed to when she aided in theintoning of the Litany on Sundays. Her conception of this Power was ofthe simplest conventional nature. She would have been astonished andfrightened if she had been told that she regarded the Omnipotent Beingas possessing many of the attributes of the Marquis of Walderhurst. Thiswas, in fact, true without detracting from her reverence in either case. 

Chapter Ten

The Osborns were breakfasting in their unpleasant sitting-room in DukeStreet when Lady Walderhurst's letter arrived. The toast was tough andsmoked, and the eggs were of the variety labelled "18 a shilling" in theshops; the apartment was also redolent of kippered herring, and CaptainOsborn was scowling over the landlady's weekly bill when Hester openedthe envelope stamped with a coronet. (Each time Emily wrote a note andfound herself confronting the coronet on the paper, she blushed a littleand felt that she must presently awake from her dream. ) Mrs. Osbornherself was looking far from amiable. She was ill and nervous andirritable, and had, in fact, just been crying and wishing that she wasdead, which had given rise to unpleasantness between herself and herhusband, who was not in the mood to feel patient with nerves. 

"Here's one from the Marchioness, " she remarked slightingly. 

"I have had none from the Marquis, " sneered Osborn. "He might havecondescended a reply--the cold-blooded beggar!"

Hester was reading her letter. As she turned the first page herexpression changed. As has previously been suggested, the epistolarymethods of Lady Walderhurst were neither brilliant nor literary, and yetMrs. Osborn seemed to be pleased by what she read. During the reading ofa line or so she wore an expression of slowly questioning wonder, which, a little later on, settled into relief. 

"I can only say I think it's very decent of them, " she ejaculated atlast; "really decent!"

Alec Osborn looked up, still scowlingly. 

"I don't see any cheque, " he observed. "That would be the most decentthing. It's the thing we want most, with this damned woman sending inbills like this for the fourth-rate things we live on, and for herconfounded tenth-rate rooms. "

"This is better than cheques. It means our having something we couldn'thope for cheques enough to pay for. They are offering to lend us abeautiful old place to live in for the rest of our stay. "

"What!" Osborn exclaimed. "Where?"

"Near Palstrey Manor, where they are staying now. "

"Near Palstrey! How near?" He had been slouching in his chair and nowsat up and leaned forward on the table. He was eager. 

Hester referred to the letter again. 

"She doesn't say. It is a sort of antiquity, I gather. It's called TheKennel Farm. Have you ever been to Palstrey?"

"Not as a guest. " He was generally somewhat sardonic when he spoke ofanything connected with Walderhurst. "But once I was in the nearestcounty town by chance and rode over. By Jove!" starting a little, "Iwonder if it can be a rum old place I passed and reined in to have alook at. I hope it is. "

"Why?"

"It's near enough to the Manor to be convenient. "

"Do you think, " hesitating, "that we shall see much of them?"

"We shall if we manage things decently. She likes you, and she's thekind of woman to be sympathising and make a fuss over anotherwoman--particularly one who is under the weather and can besentimentalised over. "

Hester was pushing crumbs about on the tablecloth with her knife, and adull red showed itself on her cheek. 

"I am not going to make capital of--circumstances, " she said sullenly. "I won't. "

She was not a woman easily managed, and Osborn had had reason on morethan one occasion to realise a certain wicked stubbornness in her. Therewas a look in her eye now which frightened him. It was desperatelynecessary that she should be kept in a tractable mood. As she was a girlwith affections, and he was a man without any, he knew what to do. 

He got up and went to her side, putting his arm round her shoulders ashe sat in a chair near her. "Now, little woman, " he said. "Now! ForGod's sake don't take it that way. Don't think I don't understand howyou feel. "

"I don't believe you know anything about the way I feel, " she said, setting her narrow white teeth and looking more like a native woman thanhe had ever seen her. A thing which did not aid his affection for her, such as it was, happened to be that in certain moods she suggested aHindoo beauty to him in a way which brought back to him memories of thepast he did not care to have awakened. 

"Yes I do, yes I do, " he protested, getting hold of her hand and tryingto make her look at him. "There are things such a woman as you can'thelp feeling. It's because you feel them that you must be on yourmettle--Lord knows you've got pluck enough--and stand by a fellow now. What shall I do, my God, if you don't?"

He was, in fact, in such straits that the ring of emotion in his voicewas not by any means assumed. 

"My God!" he repeated, "what shall we all do if you won't?"

She lifted her eyes then to look at him. She was in a sufficientlynervous condition to be conscious that tears were always near. 

"Are there worse things than you have told me?" she faltered. 

"Yes, worse things than it would be fair to bother you with. I don'twant you to be tormented. I was a deuced fool before I met you and beganto run straight. Things pile in now that would have lain quiet enough ifWalderhurst had not married. Hang it all! he ought to do the decentthing by me. He owes something to the man who may stand in his shoes, after all. "

Hester lifted her slow eyes again. 

"You've not much of a chance now, " she said. "She's a fine healthywoman. "

Osborn sprang up and paced the floor, set upon by a sudden spasm ofimpotent rage. He snapped his teeth rather like a dog. 

"Oh! curse her!" he gave forth. "The great, fresh-coloured lumpingbrute! What did she come into it for? Of all the devilish things thatcan happen to a man, the worst is to be born to the thing I was born to. To know through your whole life that you're just a stone's-throw fromrank and wealth and splendour, and to have to live and look on as anoutsider. Upon my word, I've felt more of an outsider just because ofit. There's a dream I've had every month or so for years. It's a dreamof opening a letter that tells me he's dead, or of a man coming into theroom or meeting me in the street and saying suddenly, 'Walderhurst diedlast night, Walderhurst died last night!' They're always the same words, 'Walderhurst died last night!' And I wake up shaking and in a cold sweatfor joy at the gorgeous luck that's come at last. "

Hester gave a low cry like a little howl, and dropped her head on herarms on the table among the cups and saucers. 

"She'll have a son! She'll have a son!" she cried. "And then it won'tmatter whether _he_ dies or not. "

"Ough!" was the sound wrenched from Osborn's fury. "And our son mighthave been in it. Ours might have had it all! Damn--damn!"

"He won't, --he won't now, even if he lives to be born, " she sobbed, andclutched at the dingy tablecloth with her lean little hands. 

It was hard on her. She had had a thousand feverish dreams he had neverheard of. She had lain awake hours at night and stared with wide-openeyes at the darkness, picturing to her inner soul the dream of splendourthat she would be part of, the solace for past miseries, the highrevenges for past slights that would be hers after the hour in which sheheard the words Osborn had just quoted, "Walderhurst died last night!"Oh! if luck had only helped them! if the spells her Ayah had taught herin secret had only worked as they would have worked if she had been anative woman and had really used them properly! There was a spell shehad wrought once which Ameerah had sworn to her was to be relied on. Ittook ten weeks to accomplish its end. In secret she had known of a manon whom it had been worked. She had found out about it partly from theremote hints which had aided her half knowledge of strange things and bykeeping a close watch. The man had died--he had died. She herself, andwith her own eyes had seen him begin to ail, had heard of his fevers andpains and final death. He had died. She knew that. And she had tried thething herself in dead secrecy. And at the fifth week, just as with thenative who had died, she heard that Walderhurst was ill. During the nextfour weeks she was sick with the tension of combined horror and delight. But he did not die in the tenth week. They heard that he had gone toTangiers with a party of notable people, and that his "slight"indisposition had passed, leaving him in admirable health and spirits. 

Her husband had known nothing of her frenzy. She would not have dared totell him. There were many things she did not tell him. He used to laughat her native stories of occult powers, though she knew that he had seensome strange things done, as most foreigners had. He always explainedsuch things contemptuously on grounds which presupposed in theperformers of the mysteries powers of agility, dexterity, and universalknowledge quite as marvellous as anything occult could have been. He didnot like her to show belief in the "tricks of the natives, " as he calledthem. It made a woman look a fool, he said, to be so credulous. 

During the last few months a new fever had tormented her. Feelings hadawakened in her which were new. She thought things she had never thoughtbefore. She had never cared for children or suspected herself of beingthe maternal woman. But Nature worked in her after her weird fashion. She began to care less for some things and more for others. She caredless for Osborn's moods and was better able to defy them. He began to beafraid of her temper, and she began to like at times to defy his. Therehad been some fierce scenes between them in which he had found her meetwith a flare of fury words she would once have been cowed by. He hadspoken one day with the coarse slightingness of a selfish, irritablebrute, of the domestic event which was before them. He did not speaktwice. 

She sprang up before him and shook her clenched fist in his face, sonear that he started back. 

"Don't say a word!" she cried. "Don't dare--don't dare. I tell you--lookout, if you don't want to be killed. "

During the outpouring of her frenzy he saw her in an entirely new lightand made discoveries. She would fight for her young, as a tigress fightsfor hers. She was nursing a passion of secret feeling of which he hadknown nothing. He had not for a moment suspected her of it. She had notseemed that kind of girl. She had been of the kind that cares for fineryand social importance and the world's favour, not for sentiments. 

On this morning of the letter's arrival he watched her sobbing andclutching the tablecloth, and reflected. He walked up and down andpondered. There were a lot of things to be thought over. 

"We may as well accept the invitation at once, " he said. "Grovel as muchas you choose. The more the better. They'll like it. "

Chapter Eleven

The Osborns arrived at The Kennel Farm on a lovely rainy morning. Thegreen of the fields and trees and hedges was sweetly drenched, and theflowers held drops which sparkled when the fitful sun broke forth andsearched for the hidden light in them. A Palstrey carriage comfortablymet them and took them to their destination. 

As they turned into the lane, Osborn looked out at the red gables andchimneys showing themselves among the trees. 

"It's the old place I looked at, " he said, "and a jolly old place itis. "

Hester was drinking in the pure sweetness of the fresh air and fillingher soul with the beauty of such things as she had never seen before. InLondon she had grown hopeless and sick of spirit. The lodgings in DukeStreet, the perpetual morning haddock and questionable eggs and unpaidbills, had been evil things for her. She had reached a point at whichshe had felt she could bear them no longer. Here, at all events, therewould be green trees and clear air, and no landlady. With no rent topay, there would be freedom from one torment at least. 

She had not expected much more than this freedom, however. It had seemedhighly probable that there might be discomforts in an ancient farmhouseof the kind likely to be lent to impecunious relatives. 

But before they crossed the threshold it was plain to her that, for somereason, they had been given more. The old garden had been put inorder--a picturesque and sweet disorderly order, which had allowedcreepers to luxuriate and toss, and flowers to spring out of crannies, and clumps of things to mass themselves without restraint. 

The girl's wretched heart lifted itself as they drove up to thevenerable brick porch which had somewhat the air of a little churchvestibule. Through the opened door she saw a quaint comfort she had notdreamed of. She had not the knowledge of things which would have toldher what wonders Emily had done with the place, but she could see thatits quaint furnishings were oddly beautiful in their harmony. The heavychairs and benches and settles seemed to have been part of centuries offarm-house life, and to belong to the place as much as the massive beamsand doors. 

Hester stood in the middle of the hall and looked about her. Part of itwas oak panelled and part was whitewashed. There were deep, low windowscut in the thick walls. 

"I never saw anything the least like it, " she said. 

"You wouldn't expect to see anything like it in India, " her husbandanswered. "And you won't find many places like it in England. I shouldlike a look at the stables. "

He went out almost immediately and took the look in question, findingthe result unexpectedly satisfactory. Walderhurst had lent him a decenthorse to ride, and there was a respectable little cart for Hester. Palstrey Manor had "done them" very well. This was a good deal more thanhe had expected. He knew such hospitality would not have been shown himif he had come to England unmarried. Consequently his good luck waspartly a result of Hester's existence in his life. At the same timethere awakened in him a consciousness that Hester would not have beenlikely to produce such results unless in combination with anotherelement in the situation, --the element of another woman who wassympathetic and had some power, --the new Lady Walderhurst, in fact. 

"And yet, confound her--confound her!" he thought, as he walked into theloose box to look the mare over and pat her sleekness. 

The relations which established themselves between Palstrey and TheKennel Farm were marked by two characteristic features. One of these wasthat Lord Walderhurst did not develop any warmer interest in theOsborns, and that Lady Walderhurst did. Having acceded to Emily'swishes, and really behaved generously in the matter of providing for hisheir presumptive and his wife, Lord Walderhurst felt impelled to nofurther demonstration of feeling. 

"I don't like him any better than I did, " he remarked to Emily. "And Icannot say that Mrs. Osborn attracts me. Of course there is a reason whya kind-hearted woman like yourself should be specially good to her justnow. Do anything you wish for them while they are in the neighbourhood. But as for me, the fact that a man is one's heir presumptive is notenough in itself alone to endear him to one, rather the contrary. "

Between these two it is to be confessed there existed that rancour whichis not weakened by the fact that it remains unexpressed and lurks in thedeeps of the inward being. Walderhurst would not have been capable ofexplaining to himself that the thing he chiefly disliked in this robust, warm-blooded young man was that when he met him striding about with hisgun over his shoulder and a keeper behind him, the almost unconsciousrealisation of the unpleasant truth that he was striding over what mightprove to be his own acres, and shooting birds which in the future hewould himself possess the right to preserve, to invite other people toshoot, to keep less favoured persons from shooting, as lord of theManor. This was a truth sufficiently irritating to accentuate all hisfaults of character and breeding. 

Emily, whose understanding of his nature developed with every day of herlife, grew into a comprehension of this by degrees. Perhaps her greatestleap forward was taken on the day when, as he was driving her in thecart which had picked her up on the moor, they saw Osborn trampingthrough a cover with his gun. He did not see them, and a shade ofirritation swept Walderhurst's face. 

"He seems to feel very much at home, " he commented. 

Then he was silent for a space during which he did not look pleased. 

"If he were my son, " he said, "it would be a different matter. IfAudrey's child had lived--"

He stopped and gave the tall mare a light cut with his whip. He wasevidently annoyed with himself for having spoken. 

A hot wave of colour submerged Emily. She felt it rush over her wholebody. She turned her face away, hoping Walderhurst would not observeher. This was the first time she had heard him utter his dead wife'sname. She had never heard anyone speak it. Audrey had evidently not beena much-beloved or regretted person. But she had had a son. 

Her primitive soul had scarcely dared to approach, even with awe, thethought of such a possibility for herself. As in the past she had nothad the temerity to dream of herself as a woman who possessedattractions likely to lead to marriage, so she was mentally restrainedin these days. There was something spinster-like in the tenor of herthoughts. But she would have laid down her life for this dull man'shappiness. And of late she had more than once blamed herself foraccepting so much, unthinkingly. 

"I did not realise things properly, " she had said to herself in humblepain. "I ought to have been a girl, young and strong and beautiful. Hissacrifice was too great, it was immense. "

It had been nothing of the sort. He had pleased himself and done whatwas likely to tend, and had tended, altogether to his own ease andcomfort. In any case Emily Fox-Seton was a fine creature, and onlythirty-four, and with Alec Osborn at the other side of the globe thequestion of leaving an heir had been less present and consequently haddwindled in importance. 

The nearness of the Osborns fretted him just now. If their child was ason, he would be more fretted still. He was rather glad of apossibility, just looming, of his being called away from England throughaffairs of importance. 

He had spoken to Emily of this possibility, and she had understood that, as his movements and the length of his stay would be uncertain, shewould not accompany him. 

"There is one drawback to our marriage, " he said. 

"Is it--is it anything I can remove?" Emily asked. 

"No, though you are responsible for it. People seldom can remove thedrawbacks they are responsible for. You have taught me to miss you. ", "Have I--have I?" cried Emily. "Oh! I _am_ happy!"

She was so happy that she felt that she must pass on some of her goodfortune to those who had less. She was beautifully kind to HesterOsborn. Few days passed without the stopping of a Walderhurst carriagebefore the door of The Kennel Farm. Sometimes Emily came herself to takeMrs. Osborn to drive, sometimes she sent for her to come to lunch andspend the day or night at Palstrey. She felt an interest in the youngwoman which became an affection. She would have felt interested in herif there had not existed a special reason to call forth sympathy. Hesterhad many curious and new subjects for conversation. Emily liked herdescriptions of Indian life and her weird little stories of the natives. She was charmed with Ameerah, whose nose rings and native dress, combining themselves with her dark mystic face, rare speech, andgliding, silent movements, awakened awe in the rustics and mingleddistrust and respect in the servants' hall at Palstrey. 

"She's most respectably behaved, my lady, though foreign and strange inher manners, " was Jane Cupp's comment. "But she has a way of looking ata person--almost stealthy--that's upset me many a time when I've noticedit suddenly. They say that she knows things, like fortune-telling andspells and love potions. But she will only speak of them quite secret. "

Emily gathered that Jane Cupp was afraid of the woman, and kept acautious eye upon her. 

"She is a very faithful servant, Jane, " she answered. "She is devoted toMrs. Osborn. "

"I am sure she is, my lady. I've read in books about the faithfulness ofblack people. They say they're more faithful than white ones. "

"Not more faithful than _some_ white ones, " said Lady Walderhurst withher good smile. "Ameerah is not more faithful than you, I'm very sure. "

"Oh, my lady!" ejaculated Jane, turning red with pleasure. "I do hopenot. I shouldn't like to think she could be. "

In fact the tropic suggestion of the Ayah's personality had warmed theimagination of the servants' hall, and there had been much talk of manythings, of the Osborns as well as of their servants, and thrillingstories of East Indian life had been related by Walderhurst's man, whowas a travelled person. Captain Osborn had good sport on these days, andsport was the thing he best loved. He was of the breed of man who canfish, hunt, or shoot all day, eat robust meals and sleep heavily allnight; who can do this every day of a year, and in so doing reach hishighest point of desire in existence. He knew no other aspirations inlife than such as the fortunes of a man like Walderhurst could put himin possession of. Nature herself had built him after the model of theprimeval type of English country land-owner. India with her blasting andstifling hot seasons and her steaming rains gave him nothing that hedesired, and filled him with revolt against Fate every hour of his life. His sanguine body loathed and grew restive under heat. At The KennelFarm, when he sprang out of his bed in the fresh sweetness of themorning and plunged into his tub, he drew every breath with a physicalrapture. The air which swept in through the diamond-paned, ivy-hungcasements was a joy. 

"Good Lord!" he would cry out to Hester through her half-opened door, "what mornings! how a man _lives_ and feels the blood rushing throughhis veins! Rain or shine, it's all the same to me. I can't stay indoors. Just to tramp through wet or dry heather, or under dripping or shiningtrees, is enough. How can one believe one has ever lain sweating withone's tongue lolling out, and listened to the whining creak of thepunkah through nights too deadly hot to sleep in! It's like rememberinghell while one lives in Paradise. "

"We shan't live in Paradise long, " Hester said once with somebitterness. "Hell is waiting for us. "

"Damn it! don't remind a man. There are times when I don't believe it. "He almost snarled the answer. It was true that his habit was to enhancethe pleasure of his days by thrusting into the background allrecollections of the reality of any other existence than that of thehour. As he tramped through fern and heather he would remember nothingbut that there was a chance--there was chance, good Lord! After a mannot over strong reached fifty-four or five, there were more chances thanthere had been earlier. 

After hours spent in such moods, it was not pleasant to come by accidentupon Walderhurst riding his fine chestnut, erect and staid, and besaluted by the grave raising of his whip to his hat. Or to return to theFarm just as the Palstrey barouche turned in at the gate with LadyWalderhurst sitting in it glowing with health and that enjoyableinterest in all things which gave her a kind of radiance of eye andcolour. 

She came at length in a time when she did not look quite so radiant. This, it appeared, was from a reason which might be regarded as naturalunder the circumstances. A more ardent man than Lord Walderhurst mighthave felt that he could not undertake a journey to foreign lands whichwould separate him from a wife comparatively new. But Lord Walderhurstwas not ardent, and he had married a woman who felt that he did allthings well--that, in fact, a thing must be well because it was hischoice to do it. His journey to India might, it was true, be a matter ofa few months, and involved diplomatic business for which a certainunimpeachable respectability was required. A more brilliant man, who hadbeen less respectable in the most decorous British sense, would not haveserved the purpose of the government. 

Emily's skin had lost a shade of its healthful freshness, it struckHester, when she saw her. There was a suggestion of fulness under hereyes. Yet with the bright patience of her smile she defied the remotesuspicion that she had shed a tear or so before leaving home. Sheexplained the situation with an affectionally reverent dwelling upon thedignity of the mission which would temporarily bereave her of her mate. Her belief in Walderhurst's intellectual importance to the welfare ofthe government was a complete and touching thing. 

"It will not be for very long, " she said, "and you and I must see agreat deal of each other. I am so glad you are here. You know how onemisses--" breaking off with an admirable air of determined cheer--"Imust not think of that. "

Walderhurst congratulated himself seriously during the days before hisdeparture. She was so exactly what he liked a woman to be. She mighthave made difficulties, or have been sentimental. If she had been agirl, it would have been necessary to set up a sort of nursery for her, but this fine amenable, sensible creature could take perfect care ofherself. It was only necessary to express a wish, and she not only knewhow to carry it out, but was ready to do so without question. As far ashe was concerned, he was willing to leave all to her own taste. It wassuch decent taste. She had no modern ideas which might lead during hisabsence to any action likely to disturb or annoy him. What she wouldlike best to do would be to stay at Palstrey and enjoy the beauty of it. She would spend her days in strolling through the gardens, talking tothe gardeners, who had all grown fond of her, or paying little visits toold people or young ones in the village. She would help the vicar's wifein her charities, she would appear in the Manor pew at church regularly, make the necessary dull calls, and go to the unavoidable dull dinnerswith a faultless amiability and decorum. 

"As I remarked when you told me you had asked her to marry you, " saidLady Maria on the occasion of his lunching with her on running up totown for a day's business, "you showed a great deal more sense than mostmen of your age and rank. If people _will_ marry, they should choose thepersons least likely to interfere with them. Emily will never interferewith you. She cares a great deal more about your pleasure than her own. And as to that, she's so much like a big, healthy, good child that shewould find pleasure wheresoever you dropped her. "

This was true, yet the healthy, childish creature had, in deep privacy, cried a little, and was pathetically glad to feel that the Osborns wereto be near her, and that she would have Hester to think of and take careof during the summer. 

It was pathetic that she should cherish an affection so ingenuous forthe Osborns, for one of them at least had no patience with her. ToCaptain Osborn her existence and presence in the near neighbourhood wereoffences. He told himself that she was of the particular type of womanhe most disliked. She was a big, blundering fool, he said, and her sizeand very good nature itself got on his nerves and irritated him. 

"She looks so deucedly prosperous with her first-rate clothes and herbouncing health, " he said. 

"The tread of her big feet makes me mad when I hear it. "

Hester answered with a shrill little laugh. 

"Her big feet are a better shape than mine, " she said. "I ought to hateher, and I would if I could, but I can't. "

"I can, " muttered Osborn between his teeth as he turned to the manteland scratched a match to light his pipe. 

Chapter Twelve

When Lord Walderhurst took his departure for India, his wife began toorder her daily existence as he had imagined she would. Before he hadleft her she had appeared at the first Drawing-room, and had spent a fewweeks at the town house, where they had given several imposing andserious dinner parties, more remarkable for dignity and good taste thanliveliness. The duties of social existence in town would have beenunbearable for Emily without her husband. Dressed by Jane Cupp with apassion of fervour, fine folds sweeping from her small, long waist, diamonds strung round her neck, and a tiara or a big star in her fullbrown hair, Emily was rather superb when supported by the consciousnessthat Walderhurst's well-carried maturity and long accustomedness werenear her. With him she could enjoy even the unlively splendour of afunction, but without him she would have been very unhappy. At Palstreyshe was ceasing to feel new, and had begun to realise that she belongedto the world she lived in. She was becoming accustomed to hersurroundings, and enjoyed them to the utmost. Her easily rousedaffections were warmed by the patriarchal atmosphere of village life. Most of the Palstrey villagers had touched their forelocks or curtsiedto Walderhursts for generations. Emily liked to remember this, and hadat once conceived a fondness for the simple folk, who seemed somehowrelated so closely to the man she worshipped. 

Walderhurst had not the faintest conception of what this worshiprepresented. He did not even reach the length of realising itsexistence. He saw her ingenuous reverence for and belief in him, and wasnaturally rather pleased by them. He was also vaguely aware that if shehad been a more brilliant woman she would have been a more exacting one, and less easily impressed. If she had been a stupid woman or a clumsyone, he would have detested her and bitterly regretted his marriage. Butshe was only innocent and gratefully admiring, which qualities, combining themselves with good looks, good health, and good manners, made of a woman something he liked immensely. Really she had looked verynice and attractive when she had bidden him good-by, with her emotionalflush and softness of expression and the dewy brightness of her eyes. There was something actually moving in the way her strong hand had wrunghis at the last moment. 

"I only _wish_, " she had said, "I only do so _wish_ that there wassomething I could _do_ for you while you are away--something you couldleave me to _do_. "

"Keep well and enjoy yourself, " he had answered. "That will reallyplease me. "

Nature had not so built him that he could suspect that she went home andspent the rest of the morning in his rooms, putting away his belongingswith her own hands, just for the mere passion of comfort she felt intouching the things he had worn, the books he had handled, the cushionshis head had rested against. She had indeed mentioned to the housekeeperat Berkeley Square that she wished his lordship's apartments to remainuntouched until she herself had looked over them. The obsession which iscalled Love is an emotion past all explanation. The persons susceptibleto its power are as things beneath a spell. They see, hear, and feelthat of which the rest of their world is unaware, and will remainunaware for ever. To the endearing and passion-inspiring qualities EmilyWalderhurst saw in this more than middle-aged gentleman an unstirredworld would remain blind, deaf, and imperceptive until its endtranspired. This, however, made not the slightest difference in thereality of these things as she saw and felt and was moved to her soul'scentre by them. Bright youth in Agatha Norman, at present joyouslygirdling the globe with her bridegroom, was moved much less deeply, despite its laughter and love. 

A large lump swelled in Emily's throat as she walked about thecomfortable, deserted apartments of her James. Large tears dropped onthe breast of her dress as they had dropped upon her linen blouse whenshe walked across the moor to Maundell. But she bravely smiled as shetenderly brushed away with her hand two drops which fell upon a tweedwaistcoat she had picked up. Having done this, she suddenly stooped andkissed the rough cloth fervently, burying her face in it with a sob. 

"I do _love_ him so!" she whispered, hysterically. "I do so _love_ him, and I shall so _miss_ him!" with the italicised feelingness of old. 

The outburst was in fact so strongly italicised that she felt the nextmoment almost as if she had been a little indecent. She had never beencalled upon by the strenuousness of any occasion to mention baldly toLord Walderhurst that she "loved" him. It had not been necessary, andshe was too little used to it not to be abashed by finding herselfproclaiming the fact to his very waistcoat itself. She sat down holdingthe garment in her hands and let her tears fall. 

She looked about her at the room and across the corridor through theopen door at his study which adjoined it. They were fine rooms, andevery book and bust and chair looked singularly suggestive of hispersonality. The whole house was beautiful and imposing in Emily's eyes. "He has made all my life beautiful and full of comfort and happiness, "she said, trembling. "He has saved me from everything I was afraid of, and there is nothing I can _do_. Oh!" suddenly dropping a hot face onher hands, "if I were only Hester Osborn. I should be glad to sufferanything, or die in any way. I should have paid him back--just alittle--if I might. "

For there was one thing she had learned through her yearning fervour, not through any speech of his. All the desire and pride in him would befed full and satisfied if he could pass his name on to a creature of hisown flesh and blood. All the heat his cold nature held had concentrateditself in a secret passion centred on this thing. She had begun toawaken to a suspicion of this early in their marriage, and afterwards byprocesses of inclusion and exclusion she had realised the proudintensity of his feeling despite his reserve and silence. As for her, she would have gone to the stake, or have allowed her flesh to be cutinto pieces to form that which would have given him reason forexultation and pride. Such was the helpless, tragic, kindly love andyearning of her. 

 * * * * *

The thing filled her with a passion of tenderness for Hester Osborn. Sheyearned over her, too. Her spinster life had never brought her near tothe mystery of birth. She was very ignorant and deeply awed by the merethought of it. At the outset Hester had been coldly shy and reticent, but as they saw each other more she began to melt before the unselfishwarmth of the other woman's overtures of friendship. She was very lonelyand totally inexperienced. As Agatha Slade had gradually fallen intointimacy of speech, so did she. She longed so desperately forcompanionship that the very intensity of her feelings impelled her togreater openness than she had at first intended. 

"I suppose men don't know, " she said to herself sullenly, in thinking ofOsborn, who spent his days out of doors. "At any rate, they don't care. "

Emily cared greatly, and was so full of interest and sympathy that therewas something like physical relief in talking to her. 

"You two have become great pals, " Alec said, on an afternoon when hestood at a window watching Lady Walderhurst's carriage drive away. "Youspend hours together talking. What is it all about?"

"She talks a good deal about her husband. It is a comfort to her to findsomeone to listen. She thinks he is a god. But we principally talkabout--me. "

"Don't discourage her, " laughed Osborn. "Perhaps she will get so fond ofyou that she will not be willing to part with us, as she will be obligedto take both to keep one. "

"I wish she would, I wish she would!" sighed Hester, tossing up herhands in a languid, yet fretted gesture. 

The contrast between herself and this woman was very often too great tobe equably borne. Even her kindness could not palliate it. The simpleperfection of her country clothes, the shining skins of her horses, thesmooth roll of her carriage, the automatic servants who attended her, were suggestive of that ease and completeness in all things, only to becompassed by long-possessed wealth. To see every day the evidences of itwhile one lived on charitable sufferance on the crumbs which fell fromthe master's table was a galling enough thing, after all. It wouldalways have been galling. But it mattered so much more now--so much moreto Hester than she had known it could matter even in those days when asa girl she had thirstily longed for it. In those days she had not livednear enough to it all to know the full meaning and value of it--thebeauty and luxury, the stateliness and good taste. To have known it inthis way, to have been almost part of it and then to leave it, to goback to a hugger-mugger existence in a wretched bungalow hounded bydebt, pinched and bound hard and fast by poverty, which offered nofuture prospect of bettering itself into decent good luck! Who couldbear it?

Both were thinking the same thing as their eyes met. 

"How are we to stand it, after this?" she cried out sharply. 

"We can't stand it, " he answered. "Confound it all, something _must_happen. "

"Nothing will, " she said; "nothing but that we shall go back worse offthan before. "

 * * * * *

At this period Lady Walderhurst went to London again to shop, and spenttwo entire happy days in buying beautiful things of various kinds, whichwere all to be sent to Mrs. Osborn at The Kennel Farm, Palstrey. She hadnever enjoyed herself so much in her life as she did during those twodays when she sat for hours at one counter after another looking atexquisite linen and flannel and lace. The days she had spent with LadyMaria in purchasing her trousseau had not compared with these two. Shelooked actually lovely as she almost fondled the fine fabrics, smilingwith warm softness at the pretty things shown her. She spent, in fact, good deal of money, and luxuriated in so doing as she tfould never haveluxuriated in spending it in finery for herself. Nothing indeed seemedtoo fairy-like in its fineness, no quantity of lace seemed in excess. Her heart positively trembled in her breast sometimes, and she foundstrange tears rising in her eyes. 

"They are so sweet, " she said plaintively to the silence of her ownbedroom as she looked some of her purchases over. "I don't know why theygive me such a feeling. They look so little and--helpless, and as ifthey were made to hold in one's arms. It's absurd of me, I daresay. "

The morning the boxes arrived at The Kennel Farm, Emily came too. Shewas in the big carriage, and carried with her some special finalpurchases she wanted to bring herself. She came because she could nothave kept away. She wanted to see the things again, to be with Hesterwhen she unpacked them, to help her, to look them all over, to touchthem and hold them in her hands. 

She found Hester in the large, low-ceilinged room in which she slept. The big four-post bed was already snowed over with a heaped-up drift ofwhiteness, and open boxes were scattered about. There was an oddexpression in the girl's eyes, and she had a red spot on either cheek. 

"I did not expect anything like this, " she said. "I thought I shouldhave to make some plain, little things myself, suited to its station, "with a wry smile. "They would have been very ugly. I don't know how tosew in the least. You forget that you were not buying things for aprince or a princess, but for a little beggar. "

"Oh, don't!" cried Emily, taking both her hands. "Let us be _happy_! Itwas so _nice_ to buy them. I never liked anything so much in my life. "

She went and stood by the bedside, taking up the things one by one, touching up frills of lace and smoothing out tucks. 

"Doesn't it make you happy to look at them?" she said. 

"_You_ look at them, " said Hester, staring at her, "as if the sight ofthem made you hungry, or as if you had bought them for yourself. "

Emily turned slightly away. She said nothing. For a few moments therewas a dead silence. 

Hester spoke again. What in the world was it in the mere look of thetall, straight body of the woman to make her feel hot and angered. 

"If you had bought them for yourself, " she persisted, "they would beworn by a Marquis of Walderhurst. "

Emily laid down the robe she had been holding. She put it on the bed, and turned round to look at Hester Osborn with serious eyes. 

"They _may_ be worn by a Marquis of Walderhurst, you know, " sheanswered. "They may. "

She was remotely hurt and startled, because she felt in the young womansomething she had felt once or twice before, something resentful in herthoughts of herself, as if for the moment she represented to her anenemy. 

The next moment, however, Hester Osborn fell upon her with embraces. 

"You are an angel to me, " she cried. "You are an angel, and I can'tthank you. I don't know how. "

Emily Walderhurst patted her shoulder as she kindly enfolded her in warmarms. 

"Don't thank me, " she half whispered emotionally. "Don't. Just let us_enjoy_ ourselves. "

Chapter Thirteen

Alec Osborn rode a good deal in these days. He also walked a good deal, sometimes with a gun over his shoulder and followed by a keeper, sometimes alone. There was scarcely a square yard of the Palstrey Manorlands he had not tramped over. He had learned the whole estate by heart, its woods, its farms, its moorlands. A morbid secret interest in itsbeauties and resources possessed him. He could not resist the temptationto ask apparently casual questions of keepers and farmers when he foundhimself with them. He managed to give his inquiries as much the air ofaccident as possible, but he himself knew that they were made as aresult of a certain fevered curiosity. He found that he had fallen intothe habit of continually making plans connected with the place. He saidto himself, "If it were mine I would do this, or that. If I owned it, Iwould make this change or that one. I would discharge this keeper or putanother man on such a farm. " He tramped among the heather thinking thesethings over, and realising to the full what the pleasure of such powerswould mean to a man such as himself, a man whose vanity had never beenfed, who had a desire to control and a longing for active out-of-doorlife. 

"If it were mine, if it were mine!" he would say to himself. "Oh! damnit all, if it were only mine!"

And there were other places as fine, and finer places he had neverseen, --Oswyth, Hurst, and Towers, --all Walderhurst's all belonging tothis one respectable, elderly muff. Thus he summed up the character ofhis relative. As for himself he was young, strong, and with veinsswelling with the insistent longing for joyful, exultant life. Thesweating, panting drudgery of existence in India was a thought of hellto him. But there it was, looming up nearer and nearer with everyheavenly English day that passed. There was nothing for it but to goback--go back, thrust one's neck into the collar again, and sweat and begalled to the end. He had no ambitions connected with his profession. Herealised loathingly in these days that he had always been waiting, waiting. 

The big, bright-faced woman who was always hanging about Hester, doingher favours, he actually began to watch feverishly. She was such a fool;she always looked so healthy, and she was specially such a fool overWalderhurst. When she had news of him, it was to be seen shining in herface. 

She had a sentimental school-girl fancy that during his absence shewould apply herself to the task of learning to ride. She had beenintending to do so before he went away; they had indeed spoken of ittogether, and Walderhurst had given her a handsome, gentle young mare. The creature was as kind as she was beautiful. Osborn, who wascelebrated for his horsemanship, had promised to undertake to give thelessons. 

A few days after her return from London with her purchases, she askedthe husband and wife to lunch with her at Palstrey, and during the mealbroached the subject. 

"I should like to begin soon, if you can spare the time for me, " shesaid. "I want to be able to go out with him when he comes back. Do youthink I shall be slow in learning? Perhaps I ought to be lighter to ridewell. "

"I think you will be pretty sure to have a first-class seat, " Osbornanswered. "You will be likely to look particularly well. "

"Do you think I shall? How good you are to encourage me. How soon couldI begin?"

She was quite agreeably excited. In fact, she was delighted by innocentvisions of herself as Walderhurst's equestrian companion. Perhaps if shesat well, and learned fine control of her horse, he might be pleased, and turn to look at her, as they rode side by side, with that look ofapproval and dawning warmth which brought such secret joy to her soul. 

"When may I take my first lesson?" she said quite eagerly to CaptainOsborn, for whom a footman was pouring out a glass of wine. 

"As soon, " he answered, "as I have taken out the mare two or three timesmyself. I want to know her thoroughly. I would not let you mount heruntil I had learned her by heart. "

They went out to the stables after lunch and visited the mare in herloose box. She was a fine beast, and seemed as gentle as a child. 

Captain Osborn asked questions of the head groom concerning her. She hada perfect reputation, but nevertheless she was to be taken over to theKennel stables a few days before Lady Walderhurst mounted her. 

"It is necessary to be more than careful, " Osborn said to Hester thatnight. "There would be the devil and all to pay if anything went wrong. "

The mare was brought over the next morning. She was a shining bay, andher name was Faustine. 

In the afternoon Captain Osborn took her out. He rode her far andlearned her thoroughly before he brought her back. She was as lively asa kitten, but as kind as a dove. Nothing could have been better temperedand safer. She would pass anything, even the unexpected appearance of aroad-mending engine turning a corner did not perceptibly disturb her. 

"Is she well behaved?" Hester asked at dinner time. 

"Yes, apparently, " was his answer; "but I shall take her out once ortwice again. "

He did take her out again, and had only praise for her on each occasion. But the riding lessons did not begin at once. In fact he was, for anumber of reasons, in a sullen and unsociable humour which did notincline him towards the task he had undertaken. He made various excusesfor not beginning the lessons, and took Faustine out almost every day. 

But Hester had an idea that he did not enjoy his rides. He used toreturn from them with a resentful, sombre look, as if his reflectionshad not been pleasant company for him. In truth they were not pleasantcompany. He was beset by thoughts he did not exactly care to be besetby--thoughts which led him farther than he really cared to go, which didnot incline him to the close companionship of Lady Walderhurst. It wasthese thoughts which led him on his long rides; it was one of them whichimpelled him, one morning, as he was passing a heap of broken stone, piled for the mending of the ways by the roadside, to touch Faustinewith heel and whip. The astonished young animal sprang aside curvetting. She did not understand, and to horse-nature the uncomprehended isalarming. She was more bewildered and also more fretted when, in passingthe next stone heap, she felt the same stinging touches. What did itmean? Was she to avoid this thing, to leap at sight of it, to do what?She tossed her delicate head and snorted in her trouble. The countryroad was at some distance from Palstrey, and was little frequented. Noone was in sight. Osborn glanced about him to make sure of this fact. Along stretch of road lay before him, with stone heaps piled at regularintervals. He had taken a big whiskey and soda at the last wayside innhe had passed, and drink did not make him drunk so much as mad. Hepushed the mare ahead, feeling in just the humour to try experimentswith her. 

 * * * * *

"Alec is very determined that you shall be safe on Faustine, " Hestersaid to Emily. "He takes her out every day. "

"It is very good of him, " answered Emily. 

Hester thought she looked a trifle nervous, and wondered why. She didnot say anything about the riding lessons, and in fact had seemed oflate less eager and interested. In the first place, it had been Alec whohad postponed, now it was she. First one trifling thing and then anotherseemed to interpose. 

"The mare is as safe as a feather-bed, " Osborn said to her one afternoonwhen they were taking tea on the lawn at Palstrey. "You had better beginnow if you wish to accomplish anything before Lord Walderhurst comesback. What do you hear from him as to his return?"

Emily had heard that he was likely to be detained longer than he hadexpected. It seemed always to be the case that people were detained bysuch business. He was annoyed, but it could not be helped. There was arather tired look in her eyes and she was paler than usual. 

"I am going up to town to-morrow, " she said. "The riding lessons mightbegin after I come back. "

"Are you anxious about anything?" Hester asked her as she was preparingfor the drive back to The Kennel Farm. 

"No, no, " Emily answered. "Only--"

"Only what?"

"I should be so glad if--if he were not away. "

Hester gazed reflectively at her suddenly quivering face. 

"I don't think I ever saw a woman so fond of a man, " she said. 

Emily stood still. She was quite silent. Her eyes slowly filled. She hadnever been able to say much about what she felt for Walderhurst. Herswas a large, dumb, primitive affection. 

She sat at her open bedroom window a long time that evening. She restedher chin upon her hand and looked up at the deeps of blue powdered withthe diamond dust of stars. It seemed to her that she had never looked upand seen such myriads of stars before. She felt far away from earthlythings and tremulously uplifted. During the last two weeks she had livedin a tumult of mind, of amazement, of awe, of hope and fear. No wonderthat she looked pale and that her face was full of anxious yearning. There were such wonders in the world, and she, Emily Fox-Seton, no, Emily Walderhurst, seemed to have become part of them. 

She clasped her hands tight together and leaned forward into the nightwith her face turned upwards. Very large drops began to roll fast downher cheeks, one after the other. The argument of scientific observationmight have said she was hysterical, and whether with or without reasonis immaterial. She did not try to check her tears or wipe them away, because she did not know that she was crying. She began to pray, andheard herself saying the Lord's Prayer like a child. 

"Our Father who art in Heaven--Our Father who art in Heaven, hallowed beThy name, " she murmured imploringly. 

She said the prayer to the end, and then began it over again. She saidit three or four times, and her appeal for daily bread and theforgiveness of trespasses expressed what her inarticulate nature couldnot have put into words. Beneath the entire vault of heaven's dark bluethat night there was nowhere lifted to the Unknown a prayer more humblypassion-full and gratefully imploring than her final whisper. 

"For Thine is the kingdom, the power, and the glory, for ever and ever. Amen, amen. "

When she left her seat at the window and turned towards the room again, Jane Cupp, who was preparing for the morrow's journey and was justentering with a dress over her arm, found herself restraining a start atsight of her. 

"I hope you are quite well, my lady, " she faltered. 

"Yes, " Lady Walderhurst answered. "I think I am very well--very well, Jane. You will be quite ready for the early train to-morrow morning. "

"Yes, my lady, quite. "

"I have been thinking, " said Emily gently, almost in a tone of reverie, "that if your uncle had not wanted your mother so much it would havebeen nice to have her here with us. She is such an experienced person, and so kind. I never forget how kind she was to me when I had the littleroom in Mortimer Street. "

"Oh! my lady, you was kind to _us_, " cried Jane. 

She recalled afterwards, with tears, how her ladyship moved nearer toher and took her hand with what Jane called "her wonderful _good_ look, "which always brought a lump to her throat. 

"But I always count on you, Jane, " she said. "I count on you so much. "

"Oh! my lady, " Jane cried again, "it's my comfort to believe it. I'd laydown my life for your ladyship, I would indeed. "

Emily sat down, and on her face there was a soft, uplifted smile. 

"Yes, " she said, and Jane Cupp saw that she was reflective again, andthe words were not addressed exactly, to herself, "one would be quiteready to lay down one's life for the person one loved. It seems even alittle thing, doesn't it?"

Chapter Fourteen

Lady Walderhurst remained in town a week, and Jane Cupp remained withher, in the house in Berkeley Square, which threw open its doors toreceive them on their arrival quite as if they had never left it. Theservants' hall brightened temporarily in its hope that livelier doingsmight begin to stir the establishment, but Jane Cupp was able to informinquirers that the visit was only to be a brief one. 

"We are going back to Palstrey next Monday, " she explained. "My ladyprefers the country, and she is very fond of Palstrey; and no wonder. Itdoesn't seem at all likely she'll come to stay in London until hislordship gets back. "

"We hear, " said the head housemaid, "that her ladyship is very kind toCaptain Osborn and his wife, and that Mrs. Osborn's in a delicate stateof health. "

"It would be a fine thing for us if it was in our family, " remarked anunder housemaid who was pert. 

Jane Cupp looked extremely reserved. 

"Is it true, " the pert housemaid persisted, "that the Osborns can'tabide her?"

"It's true, " said Jane, severely, "that she's goodness itself to them, and they ought to adore her. "

"We hear they don't, " put in the tallest footman. "And who wonders. Ifshe was an angel, there's just a chance that she may give Captain Osborna wipe in the eye, though she is in her thirties. "

"It's not for _us_, " said Jane, stiffly, "to discuss thirties or fortiesor fifties either, which are no business of ours. There's one gentleman, and him a marquis, as chose her over the heads of two beauties in theirteens, at least. "

"Well, for the matter of that, " admitted the tall footman, "I'd havechose her myself, for she's a fine woman. "

Lady Maria was just on the point of leaving South Audley Street to makesome visits in the North, but she came and lunched with Emily, and wasin great form. 

She had her own opinion of a number of matters, some of which shediscussed, some of which she kept to herself. She lifted her goldlorgnette and looked Emily well over. 

"Upon my word, Emily, " she said, "I am proud of you. You are one of mysuccesses. Your looks are actually improving. There's something ratheretherealised about your face to-day. I quite agree with Walderhurst inall the sentimental things he says about you. "

She said this last partly because she liked Emily and knew it wouldplease her to hear that her husband went to the length of dwelling onher charms in his conversation with other people, partly because itentertained her to see the large creature's eyelids flutter and a bigblush sweep her cheek. 

"He really was in great luck when he discovered you, " her ladyship wenton briskly. "As for that, I was in luck myself. Suppose you had been agirl who could not have been left. As Walderhurst is short of femalerelatives, it would have fallen to me to decently dry-nurse you. Andthere would have been the complications arising from a girl being babyenough to want to dance about to places, and married enough to feelherself entitled to defy her chaperone; she couldn't have been trustedto chaperone herself. As it is, Walderhurst, can go where duty calls, etc. , and I can make my visits and run about, and you, dear thing, arequite happy at Palstrey playing Lady Bountiful and helping the littlehalf-breed woman to expect her baby. I daresay you sit and make dollyshirts and christening robes hand in hand. "

"We enjoy it all very much, " Emily answered, adding imploringly, "pleasedon't call her a little half-breed woman. She's such a dear littlething, Lady Maria. "

Lady Maria indulged in the familiar chuckle and put up her lorgnette toexamine her again. 

"There's a certain kind of early Victorian saintliness about you, EmilyWalderhurst, which makes my joy, " she said. "You remind me of LadyCastlewood, Helen Pendennis, and Amelia Sedley, with the spitefulnessand priggishness and catty ways left out. You are as nice as Thackeray_thought_ they were, poor mistaken man. I am not going to suffuse youwith blushes by explaining to you that there is what my nephew wouldcall a jolly good reason why, if you were not an early Victorian andimproved Thackerayian saint, you would not be best pleased at findingyourself called upon to assist at this interesting occasion. Anotherkind of woman would probably feel like a cat towards the little Osborn. But even the mere reason itself, as a reason, has not once risen in yourbenign and pellucid mind. You have a pellucid mind, Emily; I should berather proud of the word if I had invented it myself to describe you. But I didn't. It was Walderhurst. You have actually wakened up the man'sintellects, such as they are. "

She evidently had a number of opinions of the Osborns. She liked neitherof them, but it was Captain Osborn she especially _dis_liked. 

"He is really an underbred person, " she explained, "and he hasn't thesharpness to know that is the reason Walderhurst detests him. He hadvulgar, cheap sort of affairs, and nearly got into the kind of troublepeople don't forgive. What a fool a creature in his position is tooffend the taste of the man he may inherit from, and who, if he were notantagonistic to him, would regard him as a sort of duty. It wasn't hisimmorality particularly. Nobody is either moral or immoral in thesedays, but penniless persons must be decent. It's all a matter of tasteand manners. I haven't any morals myself, my dear, but I have beautifulmanners. A woman can have the kind of manners which keep her frombreaking the Commandments. As to the Commandments, they are awfully easythings _not_ to break. Who wants to break them, good Lord! Thou shall dono murder. Thou shalt not steal. Thou shalt not commit, etc. Thou shaltnot bear false witness. That's simply gossip and lying, and they are badmanners. If you have good manners, you _don't_. "

She chatted on in her pungent little worldly, good-humoured way throughthe making of a very excellent lunch. After which she settled her smartbonnet with clever touches, kissed Emily on both cheeks, and gettinginto her brougham rolled off smiling and nodding. 

Emily stood at the drawing-room window and watched her equipage rollround the square and into Charles Street, and then turned away into thebig, stately empty room, sighing without intending to do so while shesmiled herself. 

"She's so witty and so amusing, " she said; "but one would no more thinkof _telling_ her anything than one would think of catching a butterflyand holding it while one made it listen. She would be so _bored_ if shewas confided in. "

Which was most true. Never in her life had her ladyship allowed herselfthe indiscretion of appearing a person in whom confidences might bereposed. She had always had confidences enough of her own to take careof, without sharing those of other people. 

"Good heavens!" she had exclaimed once, "I should as soon think ofassuming another woman's wrinkles. "

On the first visit Lady Walderhurst made to The Kennel Farm the morningafter her return to Palstrey, when Alec Osborn helped her from hercarriage, he was not elated by the fact that he had never seen her lookso beautifully alive and blooming during his knowledge of her. There wasa fine rose on her cheek, and her eyes were large and happily illumined. 

"How well you look!" broke from him with an involuntariness he wasalarmed to realise as almost spiteful. The words were an actualexclamation which he had not meant to utter, and Emily Walderhurst evenstarted a trifle and looked at him with a moment's question. 

"But you look well, too, " she answered. "Palstrey agrees with both ofus. You have such a colour. "

"I have been riding, " he replied. "I told you I meant to know Faustinethoroughly before I let you mount her. She is ready for you now. Can youtake your first lesson to-morrow?"

"I--I don't quite know, " she hesitated. "I will tell you a little later. Where is Hester?"

Hester was in the drawing-room. She was lying on a sofa before an openwindow and looking rather haggard and miserable. She had, in fact, justhad a curious talk with Alec which had ended in something like a scene. As Hester's health grew more frail, her temper became more fierce, andof late there had been times when a certain savagery, concealed withdifficulty in her husband's moods, affected her horribly. 

This morning she felt a new character in Emily's manner. She was timidand shy, and a little awkward. Her child-like openness of speech andhumour seemed obscured. She had less to say than usual, and at the sametime there was a suggestion of restless unease about her. Hester Osborn, after a few minutes, began to have an odd feeling that the woman's eyesheld a question or a desire in them. 

She had brought some superb roses from the Manor gardens, and she movedabout arranging them for Hester in vases. 

"It is beautiful to come back to the country, " she said. "When I getinto the carriage at the station and drive through the sweet air, Ialways feel as if I were beginning to live again, and as if in London Ihad not been quite alive. It seemed so _heavenly_ in the rose garden atPalstrey to-day, to walk about among those thousands of blooming lovelythings breathing scent and nodding their heavy, darling heads. "

"The roads are in a beautiful condition for riding, " Hester said, "andAlec says that Faustine is perfect. You ought to begin to-morrowmorning. Shall you?"

She spoke the words somewhat slowly, and her face did not look happy. But, then, it never was a really happy face. The days of her youth hadbeen too full of the ironies of disappointment. 

There was a second's silence, and then she said again:

"Shall you, if it continues fine?"

Emily's hands were full of roses, both hands, and Hester saw both handsand roses tremble. She turned round slowly and came towards her. Shelooked nervous, awkward, abashed, and as if for that moment she was abig girl of sixteen appealing to her and overwhelmed with queerfeelings, and yet the depths of her eyes held a kind of trembling, ecstatic light. She came and stood before her, holding the tremblingroses as if she had been called up for confession. 

"I--I mustn't, " she half whispered. The corners of her lips drooped andquivered, and her voice was so low that Hester could scarcely hear it. But she started and half sat up. 

"You _mustn't_?" she gasped; yes, really it was gasped. 

Emily's hand trembled so that the roses began to fall one by one, scattering a rain of petals as they dropped. 

"I mustn't, " she repeated, low and shakily. "I had--reason. --I went totown to see--somebody. I saw Sir Samuel Brent, and he told me I mustnot. He is quite sure. "

She tried to calm herself and smile. But the smile quivered and ended ina pathetic contortion of her face. In the hope of gaining decentself-control, she bent down to pick up the dropped roses. Before she hadpicked up two, she let all the rest fall, and sank kneeling among them, her face in her hands. 

"Oh, Hester, Hester!" she panted, with sweet, stupid unconciousness ofthe other woman's heaving chest and glaring eyes. "It has come to metoo, actually, after all. "

Chapter Fifteen

The Palstrey Manor carriage had just rolled away carrying LadyWalderhurst home. The big, low-ceilinged, oak-beamed farm-house parlourwas full of the deep golden sunlight of the late afternoon, the air washeavy with the scent of roses and sweet-peas and mignonette, theadorable fragrance of English country-house rooms. Captain Osborninhaled it at each breath as he stood and looked out of thediamond-paned window, watching the landau out of sight. He felt thescent and the golden glow of the sunset light as intensely as he feltthe dead silence which reigned between himself and Hester almost withthe effect of a physical presence. Hester was lying upon the sofa again, and he knew she was staring at his back with that sardonic widening ofher long eyes, a thing he hated, and which always foreboded things notpleasant to face. 

He did not turn to face them until the footman's cockade had disappearedfinally behind the tall hedge, and the tramp of the horses' feet wasdeadening itself in the lane. When he ceased watching and listening, hewheeled round suddenly. 

"What does it all mean?" he demanded. "Hang her foolish airs andgraces. _ Why_ won't she ride, for she evidently does not intend to. "

Hester laughed, a hard, short, savage little un-mirthful sound it was. 

"No, she doesn't intend to, " she answered, "for many a long day, atleast, for many a month. She has Sir Samuel Brent's orders to take thegreatest care of herself. "

"Brent's? Brent's?"

Hester struck her lean little hands together and laughed this time witha hint at hysteric shrillness. 

"I told you so, I told you so!" she cried. "I knew it would be so, Iknew it! By the time she reaches her thirty-sixth birthday there will bea new Marquis of Walderhurst, and he won't be either you or yours. " Andas she finished, she rolled over on the sofa, and bit the cushions withher teeth as she lay face downwards on them. "He won't be you, or belongto you, " she reiterated, and then she struck the cushions with herclenched fist. 

He rushed over to her, and seizing her by the shoulders shook her to andfro. 

"You don't know what you are talking about, " he said; "you don't knowwhat you are saying. "

"I do! I do! I do!" she screamed under her breath, and beat the cushionsat every word. "It's true, it's true. She's drivelling about it, drivelling!"

Alec Osborn threw back his head, drawing in a hard breath which wasalmost a snort of fury. 

"By God!" he cried, "if she went out on Faustine now, she would not comeback!"

His rage had made him so far beside himself that he had said more thanhe intended, far more than he would have felt safe. But the girl was asfar beside herself as he was, and she took him up. 

"Serve her right, " she cried. "I shouldn't care. I hate her! I hate her!I told you once I couldn't, but I do. She's the biggest fool that everlived. She knew _nothing_ of what I felt. I believe she thought I wouldrejoice with her. I didn't know whether I should shriek in her face orscream out laughing. Her eyes were as big as saucers, and she looked atme as if she felt like the Virgin Mary after the Annunciation. Oh! thestupid, _inhuman_ fool!"

Her words rushed forth faster and faster, she caught her breath withgasps, and her voice grew more shrill at every sentence. Osborn shookher again. 

"Keep quiet, " he ordered her. "You are going into hysterics, and itwon't do. Get hold of yourself. "

"Go for Ameerah, " she gasped, "or I'm afraid I can't. She knows what todo. "

He went for Ameerah, and the silently gliding creature came bringing herremedies with her. She looked at her mistress with stealthilyquestioning but affectionate eyes, and sat down on the floor rubbing herhands and feet in a sort of soothing massage. Osborn went out of theroom, and the two women were left together. Ameerah knew many ways ofcalming her mistress's nerves, and perhaps one of the chief ones was tolead her by subtle powers to talk out her rages and anxieties. Hesternever knew that she was revealing herself and her moods until after herinterviews with the Ayah were over. Sometimes an hour or so had passedbefore she began to realise that she had let out things which she hadmeant to keep secret. It was never Ameerah who talked, and Hester wasnever conscious that she talked very much herself. But afterwards shesaw that the few sentences she had uttered were such as would satisfycuriosity if the Ayah felt it. Also she was not, on the whole, at allsure that the woman felt it. She showed no outward sign of any interestother than the interest of a deep affection. She loved her youngmistress to-day as passionately as she had loved her as a child when shehad held her in her bosom as if she had been her own. By the time EmilyWalderhurst had reached Palstrey, Ameerah knew many things. Sheunderstood that her mistress was as one who, standing upon the brink ofa precipice, was being slowly but surely pushed over its edge--pushed, pushed by Fate. This was the thing imaged in her mind when she shutherself up in her room and stood alone in the midst of the chamberclenching her dark hands high above her white veiled head, and utteringcurses which were spells, and spells which were curses. 

Emily was glad that she had elected to be alone as much as possible, andhad not invited people to come and stay with her. She had not invitedpeople, in honest truth, because she felt shy of the responsibility ofentertainment while Walderhurst was not with her. It would have beenproper to invite his friends, and his friends were all people she wastoo much in awe of, and too desirous to please to be able to enjoyfrankly as society. She had told herself that when she had been marrieda few years she would be braver. 

And now her gladness was so devout that it was pure rejoicing. How couldshe have been calm, how could she have been conversational, whilethrough her whole being there surged but one thought. She was sure thatwhile she talked to people she would have been guilty of looking as ifshe was thinking of something not in the least connected withthemselves. 

If she had been less romantically sentimental in her desire to avoid allsemblance of burdening her husband she would have ordered him home atonce, and demanded as a right the protection of his dignity andpresence. If she had been less humble she would have felt the importanceof her position and the gravity of the claims it gave her to hisconsideration, instead of being lost in prayerful gratitude to heaven. 

She had been rather stupidly mistaken in not making a confidante of LadyMaria Bayne, but she had been, in her big girl shyness, entirely likeherself. In some remote part of her nature she had shrunk from a certainlook of delighted amusement which she had known would have betrayeditself, despite her ladyship's good intentions, in the eyes assisted bythe smart gold lorgnette. She knew she was inclined to behyper-emotional on this subject, and she felt that if she had seen thehumour trying to conceal itself behind the eye-glasses, she might havebeen hysterical enough to cry even while she tried to laugh, and passher feeling off lightly. Oh, no! Oh, no! Somehow she _knew_ that at sucha moment, for some fantastic, if subtle, reason, Lady Maria would onlysee her as Emily Fox-Seton, that she would have actually figured beforeher for an instant as poor Emily Fox-Seton making an odd confession. Shecould not have endured it without doing something foolish, she felt thatshe would not, indeed. 

So Lady Maria went gaily away to make her round of visits and be theamusing old life and soul of house-party after house-party, suspectingnothing of a possibility which would actually have sobered her for amoment. 

Emily passed her days at Palstrey in a state of happy exaltation. For aweek or so they were spent in wondering whether or not she should writea letter to Lord Walderhurst which should convey the information to himwhich even Lady Maria would have regarded as important, but the more sheargued the question with herself, the less she wavered from her firstintention. Lady Maria's frank congratulation of herself and LordWalderhurst in his wife's entire unexactingness had indeed been theoutcome of a half-formed intention to dissipate amiably even the vaguestinclination to verge on expecting things from people. While she thoughtEmily unlikely to allow herself to deteriorate into an encumbrance, herladyship had seen women in her position before, whose marriages had madeperfect fools of them through causing them to lose their headscompletely and require concessions and attentions from their newlyacquired relations which bored everybody. So she had lightly patted andpraised Emily for the course of action she preferred to "keep her upto. "

"She's the kind of woman ideas sink into if they are well put, " she hadremarked in times gone by. "She's not sharp enough to see that thingsare being suggested to her, but a suggestion acts upon herdelightfully. "

Her suggestions acted upon Emily as she walked about the gardens atPalstrey, pondering in the sunshine and soothed by the flower scents ofthe warmed borders. Such a letter written to Walderhurst might changehis cherished plans, concerning which she knew he held certainambitions. He had been so far absorbed in them that he had gone to Indiaat a time of the year which was not usually chosen for the journey. Hehad become further interested and absorbed after he had reached thecountry, and he was evidently likely to prolong his stay as he had notthought of prolonging it. He wrote regularly though not frequently, andEmily had gathered from the tone of his letters that he was moreinterested than he had ever been in his life before. 

"I would not interfere with his work for anything in the world, " shesaid. "He cares more for it than he usually cares for things. I care foreverything--I have that kind of mind; an intellectual person isdifferent. I am perfectly well and happy here. And it will be so nice tolook forward. "

She was not aware how Lady Maria's suggestions had "sunk in. " She wouldprobably have reached the same conclusion without their having beenmade, but since they had been made, they had assisted her. There was onething of all others she felt she could not possibly bear, which was torealise that she herself could bring to her James's face an expressionshe had once or twice seen others bring there (Captain Osbornnotably), --an expression of silent boredom on the verge of irritation. Even radiant domestic joy might not be able to overrule this, if just atthis particular juncture he found himself placed in the position of aman whom decency compelled to take the next steamer to England. 

If she had felt tenderly towards Hester Osborn before, the feeling wasnow increased tenfold. She went to see her oftener, she began to try topersuade her to come and stay at Palstrey. She was all the more kindbecause Hester seemed less well, and was in desperate ill spirits. Hersmall face had grown thin and yellow, she had dark rings under her eyes, and her little hands were hot and looked like bird's claws. She did notsleep and had lost her appetite. 

"You must come and stay at Palstrey for a few days, " Emily said to her. "The mere change from one house to another may make you sleep better. "

But Hester was not inclined to avail herself of the invitation. She madeobstacles and delayed acceptance for one reason and another. She was, infact, all the more reluctant because her husband wished her to make thevisit. Their opposed opinions had resulted in one of their scenes. 

"I won't go, " she had said at first. "I tell you I won't. "

"You will, " he answered. "It will be better for you. "

"Will it be worse for me if I don't?" she laughed feverishly. "And howwill it be better for you if I do? I know you are in it. "

He lost his temper and was indiscreet, as his temper continuallybetrayed him into being. 

"Yes, I am in it, " he said through his teeth, "as you might have thesense to see. Everything is the better for us that throws us with them, and makes them familiar with the thought of us and our rights. "

"Our rights, " the words were a shrill taunt. 

"What rights have you, likely to be recognised, unless you kill her. Areyou going to kill her?"

He had a moment of insanity. 

"I'd kill her and you too if it was safe to do it. You both deserve it!"

He flung across the room, having lost his wits as well as his temper. But a second later both came back to him as in a revulsion of feeling. 

"I talk like a melodramatic fool, " he cried. "Oh, Hester, forgive me!"He knelt on the floor by her side, caressing her imploringly. "We bothtake fire in the same way. We are both driven crazy by this damned blow. We're beaten; we may as well own it and take what we can get. She's afool, but she's better than that pompous, stiff brute Walderhurst, andshe has a lot of pull over him he knows nothing about. The smug animalis falling in love with her in his way. She can make him do the decentthing. Let us keep friends with her. "

"The decent thing would be a thousand a year, " wailed Hester, giving into his contrition in spite of herself, because she had once been in lovewith him, and because she was utterly helpless. "Five hundred a yearwouldn't be indecent. "

"Let us keep on her good side, " he said, fondling her, with a relievedcountenance. "Tell her you will come and that she is an angel, and thatyou are sure a visit to the Manor will save your life. "

They went to Palstrey a few days later. Ameerah accompanied them inattendance upon her mistress, and the three settled down into a life soregular that it scarcely seemed to wear the aspect of a visit. TheOsborns were given some of the most beautiful and convenient rooms inthe house. No other visitors were impending and the whole big place wasat their disposal. Hester's boudoir overlooked the most perfect nooks ofgarden, and its sweet chintz draperies and cushions and books andflowers made it a luxurious abode of peace. 

"What shall I do, " she said on the first evening in it as she sat in asoft chair by the window, looking out at the twilight and talking toEmily. "What shall I do when I must go away?"

"I don't mean only from here, --I mean away from England, to loathlyIndia. "

"Do you dislike it so?" Emily asked, roused to a new conception of herfeeling by her tone. 

"I could never describe to you how much, " fiercely. "It is like going tothe place which is the opposite of Heaven. "

"I did not know that, " pityingly. "Perhaps--I wonder if something mightnot be done: I must talk to my husband. "

Ameerah seemed to develop an odd fancy for the society of Jane Cupp, which Jane was obliged to confess to her mistress had a tendency toproduce in her system "the creeps. "

"You must try to overcome it, Jane, " Lady Walderhurst said. "I'm afraidit's because of her colour. I've felt a little silly and shy about hermyself, but it isn't nice of us. You ought to read 'Uncle Tom's Cabin, 'and all about that poor religious Uncle Tom, and Legree, and Elizacrossing the river on the blocks of ice. "

"I have read it twice, your ladyship, " was Jane's earnestly regretfulresponse, "and most awful it is, and made me and mother cry beyondwords. And I suppose it is the poor creature's colour that's againsther, and I'm trying to be kind to her, but I must own that she makes menervous. She asks me such a lot of questions in her queer way, andstares at me so quiet. She actually asked me quite sudden the other dayif I loved the big Mem Sahib. I didn't know what she _could_ mean atfirst, but after a while I found out it was her Indian way of meaningyour ladyship, and she didn't intend disrespect, because she spoke ofyou most humble afterwards, and called his lordship the Heaven born. "

"Be as kind as you can to her, Jane, " instructed her mistress. "And takeher a nice walk occasionally. I daresay she feels very homesick here. "

What Ameerah said to her mistress was that these English servant womenwere pigs and devils, and could conceal nothing from those who chose tofind out things from them. If Jane had known that the Ayah could havetold her of every movement she made during the day or night, of herup-gettings and down-lyings, of the hour and moment of every servicedone for the big Mem Sahib, of why and how and when and where each thingwas done, she would have been frightened indeed. 

One day, it is true, she came into Lady Walderhurst's sleeping apartmentto find Ameerah standing in the middle of it looking round its contentswith restless, timid, bewildered eyes. She wore, indeed, the manner ofan alarmed creature who did not know how she had got there. 

"What are you doing here?" demanded Jane. "You have no right in thispart of the house. You're taking a great liberty, and your mistress willbe angry. "

"My Mem Sahib asked for a book, " the Ayah quite shivered in her alarmedconfusion. "Your Mem Sahib said it was here. They did not order me, butI thought I would come to you. I did not know it was forbidden. "

"What was the book?" inquired Jane severely. "I will take it to herladyship. "

But Ameerah was so frightened that she had forgotten the name, and whenJane knocked at the door of Mrs. Osborn's boudoir, it was empty, boththe ladies having gone into the garden. 

But Ameerah's story was quite true, Lady Walderhurst said in the eveningwhen Jane spoke of the matter as she dressed her for dinner. They hadbeen speaking of a book containing records of certain historicalWalderhursts. It was one Emily had taken from the library to read in herbedroom. 

"We did not ask her to go for it. In fact I did not know the woman waswithin hearing. She moves about so noiselessly one frequently does notknow when she is near. Of course she meant very well, but she does notknow our English ways. "

"No, my lady, she does not, " said Jane, respectfully but firmly. "I tookthe liberty of telling her she must keep to her own part of the houseunless required by your ladyship. "

"You mustn't frighten the poor creature, " laughed her mistress. She wasrather touched indeed by the slavish desire to please and do serviceswiftly which the Ayah's blunder seemed to indicate. She had wished tosave her mistress even the trouble of giving the order. That was herOriental way, Emily thought, and it was very affectionate andchild-like. 

Being reminded of the book again, she carried it down herself into thedrawing-room. It was a volume she was fond of because it recordedromantic stories of certain noble dames of Walderhurst lineage. 

Her special predilection was a Dame Ellena, who, being left with but fewservitors in attendance during her lord's absence from his castle on aforaging journey into an enemy's country, had defended the strongholdboldly against the attack of a second enemy who had adroitly seized theopportunity to forage for himself. In the cellars had been hiddentreasure recently acquired by the usual means, and knowing this, DameEllena had done splendid deeds, marshalling her small forces in such wayas deceived the attacking party and showing herself in scorn upon thebattlements, a fierce, beauteous woman about to give her lord an heir, yet fearing naught, and only made more fierce and full of courage bythis fact. The son, born but three weeks later, had been the mostsplendid and savage fighter of his name, and a giant in build andstrength. 

"I suppose, " Emily said when they discussed the legend after dinner, "Isuppose she felt that she could do _anything_, " with her italics. "Idaresay _nothing_ could make her afraid, but the thought that somethingmight go wrong while her husband was away. And strength was given her. "

She was so thrilled that she got up and walked across the room withquite a fine sweep of heroic movement in her momentary excitement. Sheheld her head up and smiled with widening eyes. 

But she saw Captain Osborn drag at his black moustache to hide anunattractive grin, and she was at once abashed into feeling silly andshy. She sat down again with awkward self-consciousness. 

"I'm afraid I'm making you laugh at me, " she apologised, "but that storyalways gives me such a romantic feeling. I like her so. "

"Oh! not at all, not all, " said Osborn. "I was not laughing really; ohno!"

But he had been, and had been secretly calling her a sentimental, ramping idiot. 

It was a great day for Jane Cupp when her mother arrived at PalstreyManor. It was a great day for Mrs. Cupp also. When she descended fromthe train at the little country station, warm and somewhat flushed byher emotions and the bugled splendours of her best bonnet and black silkmantle, the sight of Jane standing neatly upon the platform almostovercame her. Being led to his lordship's own private bus, and seeingher trunk surrounded by the attentions of an obsequious station-masterand a liveried young man, she was conscious of concealing a flutter withdignified reserve. 

"My word, Jane!" she exclaimed after they had taken their seats in thevehicle. "My word, you look as accustomed to it as if you had been bornin the family. "

But it was when, after she had been introduced to the society in theservants' hall, she was settled in her comfortable room next to Jane'sown that she realised to the full that there were features of herposition which marked it with importance almost startling. As Janetalked to her, the heat of the genteel bonnet and beaded mantle hadnothing whatever to do with the warmth which moistened her brow. 

"I thought I'd keep it till I saw you, mother, " said the girldecorously. "I know what her ladyship feels about being talked over. IfI was a lady myself, I shouldn't like it. And I know how deep you'llfeel it, that when the doctor advised her to get an experienced marriedperson to be at hand, she said in that dear way of hers, 'Jane, if youruncle could spare your mother, how I should like to have her. I've neverforgot her kindness in Mortimer Street. '"

Mrs. Cupp fanned her face with a handkerchief of notable freshness. 

"If she was Her Majesty, " she said, "she couldn't be more sacred to me, nor me more happy to be allowed the privilege. "

Jane had begun to put her mother's belongings away. She was folding andpatting a skirt on the bed. She fussed about a little nervously and thenlifted a rather embarrassed face. 

"I'm glad you _are_ here, mother, " she said. "I'm thankful to _have_you!"

Mrs. Cupp ceased fanning and stared at her with a change of expression. She found herself involuntarily asking her next question in a halfwhisper. 

"Why, Jane, what is it?"

Jane came nearer. 

"I don't know, " she answered, and her voice also was low. "Perhaps I'msilly and overanxious, because I _am_ so fond of her. But that Ameerah, I actually dream about her. "

"What! The black woman?", "If I was to say a word, or if you did, and we was wrong, how should wefeel? I've kept my nerves to myself till I've nearly screamed sometimes. And my lady would be so hurt if she knew. But--well, " in a hurriedoutburst, "I do wish his lordship was here, and I do wish the Osbornswasn't. I do wish it, I tell you that. "

"Good Lord!" cried Mrs. Cupp, and after staring with alarmed eyes asecond or so, she wiped a slight dampness from her upper lip. 

She was of the order of female likely to take a somewhat melodramaticview of any case offering her an opening in that direction. 

"Jane!" she gasped faintly, "do you think they'd try to take her life?"

"Goodness, no!" ejaculated Jane, with even a trifle of impatience. "People like them daren't. But suppose they was to try to, well, toupset her in some way, what a thing for them it would be. "

After which the two women talked together for some time in whispers, Jane bringing a chair to place opposite her mother's. They sat knee toknee, and now and then Jane shed a tear from pure nervousness. She wasso appalled by the fear of making a mistake which, being revealed bysome chance, would bring confusion upon and pain of mind to her lady. 

"At all events, " was Mrs. Cupp's weighty observation when theirconference was at an end, "here we both are, and two pairs of eyes andears and hands and legs is a fat lot better than one, where there'sthings to be looked out for. "

Her training in the matter of subtlety had not been such as Ameerah's, and it may not be regarded as altogether improbable that her observationof the Ayah was at times not too adroitly concealed, but if the nativewoman knew that she was being remarked, she gave no sign of herknowledge. She performed her duties faithfully and silently, she gave notrouble, and showed a gentle subservience and humbleness towards thewhite servants which won immense approbation. Her manner towards Mrs. Cupp's self was marked indeed by something like a tinge of aweddeference, which, it must be confessed, mollified the good woman, andawakened in her a desire to be just and lenient even to the dark of skinand alien of birth. 

"She knows her betters when she sees them, and has pretty enough mannersfor a black, " the object of her respectful obeisances remarked. "Iwonder if she's ever heard of her Maker, and if a little brown Testamentwith good print wouldn't be a good thing to give her?"

This boon was, in fact, bestowed upon her as a gift. Mrs. Cupp bought itfor a shilling at a small shop in the village. Ameerah, in whose duskybeing was incorporated the occult faith of lost centuries, and whosegods had been gods through mystic ages, received the fat, little brownbook with down-dropped lids and grateful obeisance. These were her wordsto her mistress:

"The fat old woman with protruding eyes bestowed it upon me. She says itis the book of her god. She has but one. She wishes me to worship him. Am I a babe to worship such a god as would please her. She is old, andhas lost her mind. "

Lady Walderhurst's health continued all that could be desired. She arosesmiling in the morning, and bore her smile about with her all day. Shewalked much in the gardens, and spent long, happy hours sewing in herfavourite sitting-room. Work which she might have paid other women todo, she did with her own hands for the mere sentimental bliss of it. Sometimes she sat with Hester and sewed, and Hester lay on a sofa andstared at her moving hands. 

"You know how to do it, don't you?" she once said. 

"I was obliged to sew for myself when I was so poor, and this isdelightful, " was Emily's answer. 

"But you could buy it all and save yourself the trouble. "

Emily stroked her bit of cambric and looked awkward. 

"I'd rather not, " she said. 

Well as she was, she began to think she did not sleep quite so soundlyas had been habitual with her. She started up in bed now and again as ifshe had been disturbed by some noise, but when she waited and listenedshe heard nothing. At least this happened on two or three occasions. Andthen one night, having been lying folded in profound, sweet sleep, shesprang up in the black darkness, wakened by an actual, physical realityof sensation, the soft laying of a hand upon her naked side, --that, andnothing else. 

"What is that? Who is there?" she cried. "Someone is in the room!"

Yes, someone was there. A few feet from her bed she heard a sobbingsigh, then a rustle, then followed silence. She struck a match and, getting up, lighted candles. Her hand shook, but she remembered that shemust be firm with herself. 

"I must not be nervous, " she said, and looked the room over from end toend. 

But it contained no living creature, nor any sign that living creaturehad entered it since she had lain down to rest. Gradually the fastbeating of her heart had slackened, and she passed her hand over herface in bewilderment. 

"It wasn't like a dream at all, " she murmured; "it really wasn't. I_felt_ it. "

Still as absolutely nothing was to be found, the sense of realitydiminished somewhat, and being so healthy a creature, she regained hercomposure, and on going back to bed slept well until Jane brought herearly tea. 

Under the influence of fresh morning air and sunlight, of ordinarybreakfast and breakfast talk with the Osborns, her first convictionsreceded so far that she laughed a little as she related the incident. 

"I never had such a real dream in my life, " she said; "but it must havebeen a dream. "

"One's dreams are very real sometimes, " said Hester. 

"Perhaps it was the Palstrey ghost, " Osborn laughed. "It came to youbecause you ignore it. " He broke off with a slight sudden start andstared at her a second questioningly. "Did you say it put its hand onyour side?" he asked. 

"Don't tell her silly things that will frighten her. How ridiculous ofyou, " exclaimed Hester sharply. "It's not proper. "

Emily looked at both of them wonderingly. 

"What do you mean?" she said. "I don't believe in ghosts. It won'tfrighten me, Hester. I never even heard of a Palstrey ghost. "

"Then I am not going to tell you of one, " said Captain Osborn a littlebrusquely, and he left his chair and went to the sideboard to cut coldbeef. 

He kept his back towards them, and his shoulders looked uncommunicativeand slightly obstinate. Hester's face was sullen. Emily thought it sweetof her to care so much, and turned upon her with grateful eyes. 

"I was only frightened for a few minutes, Hester, " she said. "My dreamsare not vivid at all, usually. "

But howsoever bravely she ignored the shock she had received, it was notwithout its effect, which was that occasionally there drifted into hermind a recollection of the suggestion that Palstrey had a ghost. She hadnever heard of it, and was in fact of an orthodoxy so ingenuously entireas to make her feel that belief in the existence of such things was asort of defiance of ecclesiastical laws. Still, such stories were oftentold in connection with old places, and it was natural to wonder whatfeatures marked this particular legend. Did it lay hands on people'ssides when they were asleep? Captain Osborn had asked his question as ifwith a sudden sense of recognition. But she would not let herself thinkof the matter, and she would not make inquiries. 

The result was that she did not sleep well for several nights. She wasannoyed at herself, because she found that she kept lying awake as iflistening or waiting. And it was not a good thing to lose one's sleepwhen one wanted particularly to keep strong. 

Jane Cupp during this week was, to use her own words, "given quite aturn" by an incident which, though a small matter, might have proveduntoward in its results. 

The house at Palstrey, despite its age, was in a wonderful state ofpreservation, the carved oak balustrades of the stairways beingconsidered particularly fine. 

"What but Providence, " said Jane piously, in speaking to her mother thenext morning, "made me look down the staircase as I passed through theupper landing just before my lady was going down to dinner. What butProvidence I couldn't say. It certainly wasn't because I've done itbefore that I remember. But just that one evening I was obliged to crossthe landing for something, and my eye just lowered itself by accident, and there it was!"

"Just where it would have tripped her up. Good Lord! it makes my heartturn over to hear you tell it. How big a bit of carving was it?" Mrs. Cupp's opulent chest trimmings heaved. 

"Only a small piece that had broken off from old age and worm-eatenness, I suppose, but it had dropped just where she wouldn't have caught sightof it, and ten to one would have stepped on it and turned her ankle andbeen thrown from the top to the bottom of the whole flight. Suppose I_hadn't_ seen it in time to pick it up before she went down. Oh, dear!Oh, dear! Mother!"

"I should say so!" Mrs. Cupp's manner approached the devout. Thisincident it was which probably added to Jane's nervous sense ofresponsibility. She began to watch her mistress's movements withhyper-sensitive anxiety. She fell into the habit of going over herbedroom two or three times a day, giving a sort of examination to itscontents. 

"Perhaps I'm so fond of her that it's making me downright silly, " shesaid to her mother; "but it seems as if I can't help it. I feel as ifI'd like to know everything she does, and go over the ground to makesure of it before she goes anywhere. I'm so proud of her, mother; I'mjust as proud as if I was some connection of the family, instead of justher maid. It'll be such a splendid thing if she keeps well andeverything goes as it should. Even people like us can see what it meansto a gentleman that can go back nine hundred years. If I was Lady MariaBayne, I'd be here and never leave her. I tell you nothing could driveme from her. "

"You are well taken care of, " Hester had said. "That girl is devoted toyou. In her lady's maid's way she'd fight for your life. "

"I think she is as faithful to me as Ameerah is to you, " Emily answered. "I feel sure Ameerah would fight for you. "

Ameerah's devotion in these days took the form of a deep-seated hatredof the woman whom she regarded as her mistress's enemy. 

"It is an evil thing that she should take this place, " she said. "She isan old woman. What right hath she to think she may bear a son. Ill luckwill come of it. She deserves any ill fortune which may befall her. "

"Sometimes, " Lady Walderhurst once said to Osborn, "I feel as if Ameerahdisliked me. She looks at me in such a curious, stealthy way. "

"She is admiring you, " was his answer. "She thinks you are something alittle supernatural, because you are so tall and have such a freshcolour. "

There was in the park at Palstrey Manor a large ornamental pool ofwater, deep and dark and beautiful because of the age and hugeness ofthe trees which closed around it, and the water plants which encircledand floated upon it. White and yellow flags and brown velvet rushes grewthick about its edge, and water-lilies opened and shut upon its surface. An avenue of wonderful limes led down to a flight of mossy steps, bywhich in times gone by people had descended to the boat which rockedidly in the soft green gloom. There was an island on it, on which roseshad been planted and left to run wild; early in the year daffodils andother spring flowers burst up through the grass and waved scented heads. Lady Walderhurst had discovered the place during her honeymoon, and hadloved it fondly ever since. The avenue leading to it was her favouritewalk; a certain seat under a tree on the island her favouriteresting-place. 

"It is so still there, " she had said to the Osborns. "No one ever goesthere but myself. When I have crossed the little old bridge and sit downamong the greenness with my book or work, I feel as if there was noworld at all. There is no sound but the rustle of the leaves and thesplash of the moor-hens who come to swim about. They don't seem to beafraid of me, neither do the thrushes and robins. They know I shall onlysit still and watch them. Sometimes they come quite near. "

She used, in fact, to take her letter-writing and sewing to the sweet, secluded place and spend hours of pure, restful bliss. It seemed to herthat her life became more lovely day by day. 

[Illustration: Hester Osborn]

Hester did not like the pool. She thought it too lonely and silent. Shepreferred her beflowered boudoir or the sunny garden. Sometimes in thesedays she feared to follow her own thoughts. She was being pushed--pushedtowards the edge of her precipice, and it was only the working of Naturethat she should lose her breath and snatch at strange things to stayherself. Between herself and her husband a sort of silence had grown. There were subjects of which they never spoke, and yet each knew thatthe other's mind was given up to thought of them day and night. Therewere black midnight hours when Hester, lying awake in her bed, knew thatAlec lay awake in his also. She had heard him many a time turn over witha caught breath and a smothered curse. She did not ask herself what hewas thinking of. She knew. She knew because she was thinking of the samethings herself. Of big, fresh, kind Emily Walderhurst lost in her dreamsof exultant happiness which never ceased to be amazed and grateful toprayerfulness; of the broad lands and great, comfortable houses; of allit implied to be the Marquis of Walderhurst or his son; of the long, sickening voyage back to India; of the hopeless muddle of life in anill-kept bungalow; of wretched native servants, at once servile andstubborn and given to lies and thefts. More than once she was forced toturn on her face that she might smother her frenzied sobs in her pillow. 

It was on such a night--she had awakened from her sleep to notice suchstillness in Osborn's adjoining room, that she thought him profoundlyasleep--that she arose from her bed to go and sit at her open window. 

She had not been seated there many minutes before she became singularlyconscious, she did not know how, of some presence near her among thebushes in the garden below. It had indeed scarcely seemed to be sound ormovement which had attracted her attention, and yet it must have beenone or both, for she involuntarily turned to a particular spot. 

Yes, something, someone, was standing in a corner, hidden by shrubbery. It was the middle of the night, and people were meeting. She sat stilland almost breathless. She could hear nothing and saw nothing but, between the leafage, a dim gleam of white. Only Ameerah wore white. After a few seconds' waiting she began to think a strange thing, thoughshe presently realised that, taking all things into consideration, itwas not strange at all. She got up very noiselessly and stole into herhusband's room. He was not there; the bed was empty, though he had sleptthere earlier in the night. 

She went back to her own bed and got into it again. In ten minutes' timeCaptain Osborn crept upstairs and returned to bed also. Hester made nosign and did not ask any questions. She knew he would have told hernothing, and also she did not wish to hear. She had seen him speaking toAmeerah in the lane a few days before, and now that he was meeting herin the night she knew that she need not ask herself what the subject oftheir consultation might be. But she looked haggard in the morning. 

Lady Walderhurst herself did not look well, For the last two or threenights she had been starting from her sleep again with that eeriefeeling of being wakened by someone at her bedside, though she had foundno one when she had examined the room on getting up. 

"I am sorry to say I am afraid I am getting a little nervous, " she hadsaid to Jane Cupp. "I will begin to take valerian, though it is reallyvery nasty. "

Jane herself had a somewhat harried expression of countenance. She didnot mention to her mistress that for some days she had been faithfullyfollowing a line of conduct she had begun to mark out for herself. Shehad obtained a pair of list slippers and had been learning to go aboutsoftly. She had sat up late and risen from her bed early, though she hadnot been rewarded by any particularly marked discoveries. She hadthought, however, that she observed that Ameerah did not look at her asmuch as had been her habit, and she imagined she rather avoided her. Allshe said to Lady Walderhurst was:

"Yes, my lady, mother thinks a great deal of valerian to quiet thenerves. Will you have a light left in your room to-night, my lady?"

"I am afraid I could not sleep with a light, " her mistress answered. "Iam not used to one. "

She continued to sleep, disturbedly some nights, in the dark. She wasnot aware that on some of the nights Jane Cupp either slept or laidawake in the room nearest to her. Jane's own bedroom was in another partof the house, but in her quiet goings about in the list shoes she nowand then saw things which made her nervously determined to be withinimmediate call. 

"I don't say it isn't nerves, mother, " she said, "and that I ain't sillyto feel so suspicious of all sorts of little things, but there's nightswhen I couldn't stand it not to be quite near her. "

Chapter Sixteen

The Lime Avenue was a dim, if lovely, place at twilight. When the sunwas setting, broad lances of gold slanted through the branches andglorified the green spaces with mellow depths of light. But later, whenthe night was drawing in, the lines of grey tree-trunks, shadowed andcanopied by boughs, suggested to the mind the pillars of some ruinedcathedral, desolate and ghostly. 

Jane Cupp, facing the gloom of it during her lady's dinner-hour, andglancing furtively from side to side as she went, would have been awedby the grey stillness, even if she had not been in a timorous mood tobegin with. In the first place, the Lime Avenue, which was herladyship's own special and favourite walk, was not the usual promenadeof serving-maids. Even the gardeners seldom set foot in it unless tosweep away dead leaves and fallen wood. Jane herself had never been herebefore. This evening she had gone absolutely because she was followingAmeerah. 

She was following Ameerah because, during the afternoon tea-hour in theservants' hall, she had caught a sentence or so in the midst of agossiping story, which had made her feel that she should be unhappy ifshe did not go down the walk and to the water-side, --see the water, theboat, the steps, everything. 

"My word, mother!" she had said, "it's a queer business for arespectable girl that's maid in a great place to be feeling as if shehad to watch black people, same as if she was in the police, and notdaring to say a word; for if I did say a word, Captain Osborn's cleverenough to have me sent away from here in a jiffy. And the worst of itis, " twisting her hands together, "there _mayn't_ be _anything_ going onreally. If they were as innocent as lambs they couldn't act anydifferent; and just the same, things _might_ have happened by accident. "

"That's the worst of it, " was Mrs. Cupp's fretted rejoinder. "Any oldpiece of carving might have dropped out of a balustrade, and any ladythat wasn't well might have nightmare and be disturbed in her sleep. "

"Yes, " admitted Jane, anxiously, "that is the worst of it. Sometimes Ifeel so foolish I'm all upset with myself. "

The gossip in servants' halls embraces many topics. In country housesthere is naturally much to be said of village incidents, of the scandalsof cottages and the tragedies of farms. This afternoon, at one end ofthe table the talk had been of a cottage scandal which had verged ontragedy. A handsome, bouncing, flaunting village girl had got into that"trouble" which had been anticipated for her by both friends and enemiesfor some time. Being the girl she was, much venomous village social stirhad resulted. It had been predicted that she would "go up to London, " orthat she would drown herself, having an impudent high spirit whichbrought upon her much scornful and derisive flouting on her evil day. The manor servants knew a good deal of her, because she had been for awhile a servant at The Kennel Farm, and had had a great fancy forAmeerah, whom it had pleased her to make friends with. When she fellsuddenly ill, and for days lay at the point of death, there was astealthy general opinion that Ameerah, with her love spells and potions, could have said much which might have been enlightening, if she hadchosen. The girl had been in appalling danger. The village doctor, whohad been hastily called in, had at one moment declared that life hadleft her body. It was, in fact, only Ameerah who had insisted that shewas not dead. After a period of prostration, during which she seemed acorpse, she had slowly come back to earthly existence. The graphicdescriptions of the scenes by her bedside, of her apparent death, hercold and bloodless body, her lagging and ghastly revival toconsciousness, aroused in the servants' hall a fevered interest. Ameerahwas asked questions, and gave such answers as satisfied herself if nother interlocutors. She was perfectly aware of the opinions of her fellowservitors. She knew all about them while they knew nothing whatsoeverabout her. Her limited English could be used as a means of bafflingthem. She smiled, and fell into Hindustani when she was pressed. 

Jane Cupp heard both questions and answers. Ameerah professed to knownothing but such things as the whole village knew. Towards the end ofthe discussion, however, in a mixture of broken English and Hindustani, she conveyed that she had believed that the girl would drown herself. Asked why, she shook her head, then said that she had seen her by theMem Sahib's lake at the end of the trees. She had asked if the water wasdeep enough, near the bridge, to drown. Ameerah had answered that shedid not know. 

There was a general exclamation. They all knew it was deep there. Thewomen shuddered as they remembered how deep they had been told it was atthat particular spot. It was said that there was no bottom to it. Everybody rather revelled in the gruesomeness of the idea of abottomless piece of water. Someone remembered that there was a storyabout it. As much as ninety years ago two young labourers on the placehad quarrelled about a young woman. One day, in the heat of jealous rageone had seized the other and literally thrown him into the pond. He hadnever been found. No drags could reach his body. He had sunk into theblackness for ever. 

Ameerah sat at the table with downcast eyes. She had a habit of sittingsilent with dropped eyes, which Jane could not bear. As she drank hertea she watched her in spite of herself. 

After a few minutes had passed, her appetite for bread and butterdeserted her. She got up and left the hall, looking pale. 

The mental phases through which she went during the afternoon ended inher determination to go down the avenue and to the water's side thisevening. It could be done while her ladyship and her guests were atdinner. This evening the Vicar and his wife and daughter were dining atthe Manor. 

Jane took in emotionally all the mysterious silence and dimness of thelong tree-pillared aisle, and felt a tremor as she walked down it, trying to hold herself in hand by practical reflections half whispered. 

"I'm just going to have a look, to make sure, " she said, "silly or not. I've got upset through not being able to help watching that woman, andthe way to steady my nerves is to make sure I'm just giving in tofoolishness. "

She walked as fast as she could towards the water. She could see itsgleam in the dim light, but she must pass a certain tree before shecould see the little bridge itself. 

"My goodness! What's that?" she said suddenly. It was something white, which rose up as if from the ground, as if from the rushes growing atthe water's edge. 

Just a second Jane stood, and choked, and then suddenly darted forward, running as fast as she could. The white figure merely moved slowly awayamong the trees. It did not run or seem startled, and as Jane ran shecaught it by its white drapery, and found herself, as she had known shewould, dragging at the garments of Ameerah. But Ameerah only turnedround and greeted her with a welcoming smile, mild enough to damp anyexcitement. 

"What are you doing here?" Jane demanded. "Why do you come to thisplace?"

Ameerah answered her with simple fluency in Hindustani, with her mannerof not realising that she was speaking to a foreigner who could notunderstand her. What she explained was that, having heard that Jane'sMem Sahib came here to meditate on account of the stillness, she herselfhad formed the habit of coming to indulge in prayer and meditation whenthe place was deserted for the day. She commended the place to Jane, andto Jane's mother, whom she believed to be holy persons given todevotional exercises. Jane shook her. 

"I don't understand a word you say, " she cried. "You know I don't. Speakin English. "

Ameerah shook her head slowly, and smiled again with patience. Sheendeavoured to explain in English which Jane was sure was worse than shehad ever heard her use before. Was it forbidden that a servant shouldcome to the water?

She was far too much for Jane, who was so unnerved that she burst intotears. 

"You are up to some wickedness, " she sobbed; "I know you are. You'repast bearing. I'm going to write to people that's got the right to dowhat I daren't. I'm going back to that bridge. "

Ameerah looked at her with a puzzled amiability for a few seconds. Sheentered into further apologies and explanations in Hindustani. In themidst of them her narrow eyes faintly gleamed, and she raised a hand. 

"They come to us. It is your Mem Sahib and her people. Hear them. "

She spoke truly. Jane had miscalculated as to her hour, or the timespent at the dinner-table had been shorter than usual. In fact, LadyWalderhurst had brought her guests to see the young moon peer throughthe lime-trees, as she sometimes did when the evening was warm. 

Jane Cupp fled precipitately. Ameerah disappeared also, but withoutprecipitation or any sign of embarrassment. 

 * * * * *

"You look as if you had not slept well, Jane, " Lady Walderhurst remarkedin the morning as her hair was being brushed. She had glanced into theglass and saw that it reflected a pale face above her own, and that thepale face had red rims to its eyes. 

"I have been a bit troubled by a headache, my lady, " Jane answered. 

"I have something like a headache myself. " Lady Walderhurst's voice hadnot its usual cheerful ring. Her own eyes looked heavy. "I did not restwell. I have not rested well for a week. That habit of starting from mysleep feeling that some sound has disturbed me is growing on me. Lastnight I dreamed again that someone touched my side. I think I shall beobliged to send for Sir Samuel Brent. "

"My lady, " exclaimed Jane feverishly, "if you would--if you would. "

Lady Walderhurst's look at her was nervous and disturbed. 

"Do you--does your mother think I am not as well as I should be, Jane?"she said. 

Jane's hands were actually trembling. 

"Oh no, my lady. Oh no! But if Sir Samuel could be sent for, or LadyMaria Bayne, or--or his lordship--"

The disturbed expression of Lady Walderhurst's face changed to somethingverging on alarm. It was true that she began to be horribly frightened. She turned upon Jane, pallor creeping over her skin. 

"Oh!" she cried, a sound of almost child-like fear and entreaty in hervoice. "I am sure you think I am ill, I am sure you do. What--what isit?"

She leaned forward suddenly and rested her forehead on her hands, herelbows supported by the dressing-table. She was overcome by a shock ofdread. 

"Oh! if anything should go wrong!" in a faint half wail; "if anything_could_ happen!" She could not bear the mere thought. It would break herheart. She had been so happy. God had been so good. 

Jane was inwardly convulsed with contrition commingled with anger at herown blundering folly. Now it was she herself who had "upset" herladyship, given her a fright that made her pale and trembling. What didshe not deserve for being such a thoughtless fool. She might have known. She poured forth respectfully affectionate protestations. 

"Indeed, I beg your pardon, my lady. Indeed, it's only my silliness!Mother was saying yesterday that she had never seen a lady so well andin as good spirits. I have no right to be here if I make such mistakes. Please, my lady--oh! might mother be allowed to step in a minute tospeak to you?"

Emily's colour came, back gradually. When Jane went to her mother, Mrs. Cupp almost boxed her ears. 

"That's just the way with girls, " she said. "No more sense than a packof cats. If you can't keep quiet you'd better just give up. Of courseshe'd think you meant they was to be sent for because we was certain shewas a dying woman. Oh my! Jane Cupp, get away!"

She enjoyed her little interview with Lady Walderhurst greatly. A womanwhose opinion was of value at such a time had the soundest reasons forenjoying herself. When she returned to her room, she sat and fannedherself with a pocket handkerchief and dealt judicially with Jane. 

"What we've got to do, " she said, "is to think, and think we will. Tellher things outright we must not, until we've got something sure andproved. Then we can call on them that's got the power in their hands. Wecan't call on them till we can show them a thing no one can't deny. Asto that bridge, it's old enough to be easy managed, and look accidentalif it broke. You say she ain't going there to-day. Well, this verynight, as soon as it's dark enough, you and me will go down and have alook at it. And what's more, we'll take a man with us. Judd could betrusted. Worst comes to worst, we're only taking the liberty of makingsure it's safe, because we know it _is_ old and we're over careful. "

As Jane had gathered from her, by careful and apparently incidentalinquiry, Emily had had no intention of visiting her retreat. In themorning she had, in fact, not felt quite well enough. Her nightmare hadshaken her far more on its second occurring. The stealthy hand hadseemed not merely to touch, but to grip at her side, and she had beenphysically unable to rise for some minutes after her awakening. Thisexperience had its physical and mental effects on her. 

She did not see Hester until luncheon, and after luncheon she found herto be in one of her strange humours. She was often in these strangehumours at this time. She wore a nervous and strained look, andfrequently seemed to have been crying. She had new lines on her foreheadbetween the eyebrows. Emily had tried in vain to rouse and cheer herwith sympathetic feminine talk. There were days when she felt that forsome reason Hester did not care to see her. 

She felt it this afternoon, and not being herself at the high-water markof cheerfulness, she was conscious of a certain degree ofdiscouragement. She had liked her so much, she had wanted to be friendswith her and to make her life an easier thing, and yet she appearedsomehow to have failed. It was because she was so far from being aclever woman. Perhaps she might fail in other things because she was notclever. Perhaps she was never able to give to people what they wanted, what they needed. A brilliant woman had such power to gain and holdlove. 

After an hour or so spent in trying to raise the mental temperature ofMrs. Osborn's beflowered boudoir, she rose and picked up her littlework-basket. 

"Perhaps you would take a nap if I left you, " she said. "I think I willstroll down to the lake. "

She quietly stole away, leaving Hester on her cushions. 

Chapter Seventeen

A few minutes later a knock at the door being replied to by Hester'scurt "Come in!" produced the modest entry of Jane Cupp, who had come tomake a necessary inquiry of her mistress. "Her ladyship is not here; shehas gone out. " Jane made an altogether involuntary step forward. Herface became the colour of her clean white apron. 

"Out!" she gasped. 

Hester turned sharply round. 

"To the lake, " she said. "What do you mean by staring in that way?"

Jane did not tell her what she meant. She incontinently ran from theroom without any shadow of a pretence at a lady's maid's decorum. 

She fled through the rooms, to make a short cut to the door opening onto the gardens. Through that she darted, and flew across paths andflowerbeds towards the avenue of limes. 

"She shan't get to the bridge before me, " she panted. "She shan't, sheshan't. I won't let her. Oh, if my breath will only hold out!"

She did not reflect that gardeners would naturally think she had gonemad. She thought of nothing whatever but the look in Ameerah's downcasteyes when the servants had talked of the bottomless water, --the eerie, satisfied, sly look. Of that, and of the rising of the white figure fromthe ground last night she thought, and she clutched her neat side as sheran. 

The Lime Avenue seemed a mile long, and yet when she was running down itshe saw Lady Walderhurst walking slowly under the trees carrying hertouching little basket of sewing in her hand. She was close to thebridge. 

"My lady! my lady!" she gasped out as soon as she dared. She could notrun screaming all the way. "Oh, my lady! if you please!"

Emily heard her and turned round. Never had she been much more amazed inher life. Her maid, her well-bred Jane Cupp, who had not drawn anindecorous breath since assuming her duties, was running after hercalling out to her, waving her hands, her face distorted, her voicehysteric. 

Emily had been just on the point of stepping on to the bridge, her handhad been outstretched towards the rail. She drew back a step in alarmand stood staring. How strange everything seemed to-day. She began tofeel choked and trembling. 

A few seconds and Jane was upon her, clutching at her dress. She had solost her breath that she was almost speechless. 

"My lady, " she panted. "Don't set foot on it; don't--don't, till we'resure. "

"On--on what?"

Then Jane realised how mad she looked, how insane the whole scene was, and she gave way to her emotions. Partly through physical exhaustion andbreathlessness, and partly through helpless terror, she fell on herknees. 

"The bridge!" she said. "I don't care what happens to me so that no harmcomes to you. There's things being plotted and planned that looks likeaccidents. The bridge would look like an accident if part of it broke. There's no bottom to the water. They were saying so yesterday, and _she_sat listening. I found her here last night. "

"She! Her!" Emily felt as if she was passing through another nightmare. 

"Ameerah, " wailed poor Jane. "White ones have no chance against black. Oh, my lady!" her sense of the possibility that she might be making afool of herself after all was nearly killing her. "I believe she woulddrive you to your death if she could do it, think what you will of me. "

The little basket of needlework shook in Lady Walderhurst's hand. Sheswallowed hard, and without warning sat down on the roots of a fallentree, her cheeks blanching slowly. 

"Oh Jane!" she said in simple woe and bewilderment. "I don't understandany of it. How could--how _could_ they want to hurt me!" Her innocencewas so fatuous that she thought that because she had been kind to themthey could not hate or wish to injure her. 

But something for the first time made her begin to quail. She sat, andtried to recover herself. She put out a shaking hand to the basket ofsewing. She could scarcely see it, because suddenly tears had filled hereyes. 

"Bring one of the men here, " she said, after a few moments. "Tell himthat I am a little uncertain about the safety of the bridge. "

She sat quite still while Jane was absent in search of the man. She heldher basket on her knee, her hand resting on it. Her kindly, slow-workingmind was wakening to strange thoughts. To her they seemed inhuman anduncanny. Was it because good, faithful, ignorant Jane had been rathernervous about Ameerah that she herself had of late got into a habit offeeling as if the Ayah was watching and following her. She had beenstartled more than once by finding her near when she had not been awareof her presence. She had, of course, heard Hester say that nativeservants often startled one by their silent, stealthy-seeming ways. Butthe woman's eyes had frightened her. And she had heard the story aboutthe village girl. 

She sat, and thought, and thought. Her eyes were fixed upon themoss-covered ground, and her breath came quickly and irregularly severaltimes. 

"I don't know what to do, " she said. "I am sure--if it is true--I don'tknow what to do. "

The under-gardener's heavy step and Jane's lighter one roused her. Shelifted her eyes to watch the pair as they came. He was a big, young manwith a simple rustic face and big shoulders and hands. 

"The bridge is so slight and old, " she said to him, "that it has justoccurred to me that it might not be quite safe. Examine it carefully tomake sure. "

The young man touched his forehead and began to look the supports over. Jane watched him with bated breath when he rose to his feet. 

"They're all right on this side, my lady, " he said. "I shall have to getin the boat to make sure of them that rest on the island. "

He stamped upon the end nearest and it remained firm. 

"Look at the railing well, " said Lady Walderhurst. "I often stand andlean on it and--and watch the sunset. "

She faltered at this point, because she had suddenly remembered thatthis was a habit of hers, and that she had often spoken of it to theOsborns. There was a point on the bridge at which, through a gap in thetrees, a beautiful sunset was always particularly beautiful. It was theright-hand rail facing these special trees she rested on when shewatched the evening sky. 

The big, young gardener looked at the left-hand rail and shook it withhis strong hands. 

"That's safe enough, " he said to Jane. 

"Try the other, " said Jane. 

He tried the other. Something had happened to it. It broke in his biggrasp. His sunburnt skin changed colour by at least three shades. 

"Lord A'mighty!" Jane heard him gasp under his breath. He touched hiscap and looked blankly at Lady Walderhurst. Jane's heart seemed toherself to roll over. She scarcely dared look at her mistress, but whenshe took courage to do so, she found her so white that she hurried toher side. 

"Thank you, Jane, " she said rather faintly. "The sky is so lovely thisafternoon that I meant to stop and look at it. I should have fallen intothe water, which they say has no bottom. No one would have seen or heardme if you had not come. "

She caught Jane's hand and held it hard. Her eyes wandered over theavenue of big trees, which no one but herself came near at this hour. Itwould have been so lonely, so lonely!

The gardener went away, still looking less ruddy than he had looked whenhe arrived on the spot. Lady Walderhurst rose from her seat on the mossytree-trunk. She rose quite slowly. 

"Don't speak to me yet, Jane, " she said. And with Jane following her ata respectful distance, she returned to the house and went to her room tolie down. 

There was nothing to prove that the whole thing was not mere chance, mere chance. It was this which turned her cold. It was all impossible. The little bridge had been entirely unused for so long a time, it hadbeen so slight a structure from the first; it was old, and sheremembered now that Walderhurst had once said that it must be examinedand strengthened if it was to be used. She had leaned upon the railoften lately; one evening she had wondered if it seemed quite as steadyas usual. What could she say, whom could she accuse, because a piece ofrotten wood had given away. 

She started on her pillow. It was a piece of rotten wood which hadfallen from the balustrade upon the stairs, to be seen and picked up byJane just before she would have passed down on her way to dinner. Andyet, what would she appear to her husband, to Lady Maria, to anyone inthe decorous world, if she told them that she believed that in adignified English household, an English gentleman, even a deposed heirpresumptive, was working out a subtle plot against her such as mightadorn a melodrama? She held her head in her hands as her mind depictedto her Lord Walderhurst's countenance, Lady Maria's dubious, amusedsmile. 

"She would think I was hysterical, " she cried, under her breath. "Hewould think I was vulgar and stupid, that I was a fussy woman withfoolish ideas, which made him ridiculous. Captain Os-born is of hisfamily. I should be accusing him of being a criminal. And yet I mighthave been in the bottomless pond, in the bottomless pond, and no onewould have known. "

If it all had not seemed so incredible to her, if she could have feltcertain herself, she would not have been overwhelmed with this sense ofbeing baffled, bewildered, lost. 

The Ayah who so loved Hester might hate her rival. A jealous nativewoman might be capable of playing stealthy tricks, which, to her strangemind, might seem to serve a proper end. Captain Osborn might not know. She breathed again as this thought came to her. He could not know; itwould be too insane, too dangerous, too wicked. 

And yet, if she had been flung headlong down the staircase, if the fallhad killed her, where would have been the danger for the man who wouldonly have deplored a fatal accident. If she had leaned upon the rail andfallen into the black depths of water below, what could have been blamedbut a piece of rotten wood. She touched her forehead with herhandkerchief because it felt cold and damp. There was no way out. Herteeth chattered. 

"They may be as innocent as I am. And they may be murderers in theirhearts. I can prove nothing, I can prevent nothing. Oh! _do_ come home. "

There was but one thought which remained clear in her mind. She mustkeep herself safe--she must keep herself safe. In the anguish of hertrouble she confessed, by putting it into words, a thing which she hadnot confessed before, and even as she spoke she did not realise that herwords contained confession. 

"If I were to die now, " she said with a touching gravity, "he would carevery much. "

A few moments later she said, "It does not matter what happens to me, how ridiculous or vulgar or foolish I seem, if I can keep myselfsafe--until after. I will write to him now and ask him to try to comeback. "

It was the letter she wrote after this decision which Osborn saw amongothers awaiting postal, and which he stopped to examine. 

Chapter Eighteen

Hester sat at the open window of her boudoir in the dark. She hadherself put out the wax candles, because she wanted to feel herselfsurrounded by the soft blackness. She had sat through the dinner andheard her husband's anxious inquiries about the rotten handrail, and hadwatched his disturbed face and Emily's pale one. She herself had saidbut little, and had been glad when the time came that she could decentlyexcuse herself and come away. 

As she sat in the darkness and felt the night breath of the flowers inthe garden, she was thinking of all the murderers she had ever heard of. She was reflecting that some of them had been quite respectable people, and that all of them must have lived through a period in which theygradually changed from respectable people to persons in whose brains athought had worked which once they would have believed impossible tothem, which they might have scouted the idea of their giving room to. She was sure the change must come about slowly. At first it would seemtoo mad and ridiculous, a sort of angry joke. Then the angry joke wouldreturn again and again, until at last they let it stay and did not laughat it, but thought it over. Such things always happened because some onewanted, or did not want, something very much, something it drove themmad to think of being forced to live without, or with. Men who hated awoman and could not rid themselves of her, who hated the sight of herface, her eyes, her hair, the sound of her voice and step, and wererendered insane by her nearness and the thought that they never could befree from any of these things, had before now, commonplace orcomparatively agreeable men, by degrees reached the point where a knifeor a shot or a heavy blow seemed not only possible but inevitable. People who had been ill-treated, people who had faced horrors throughwant and desire, had reached the moment in which they took by force whatFate would not grant them. Her brain so whirled that she wondered if shewas not a little delirious as she sat in the stillness thinking suchstrange things. 

For weeks she had been living under a strain so intense that herfeelings had seemed to cease to have any connection with what wasnormal. 

She had known too much; and yet she had been certain of nothing at all. 

But she and Alec were like the people who began with a bad joke, andthen were driven and driven. It was impossible not to think of whatmight come, and of what might be lost for ever. If the rail had not beentried this afternoon, if big, foolish Emily Walderhurst had been lyingpeacefully among the weeds to-night!

"The end comes to everyone, " she said. "It would have been all over in afew minutes. They say it isn't really painful. "

Her lips quivered, and she pressed her hands tightly between her knees. 

"That's a murderer's thought, " she muttered querulously. "And yet Iwasn't a bad girl to begin with. "

She began to see things. The chief thing was a sort of vision of howEmily would have looked lying in the depths of the water among theweeds. Her brown hair would have broken loose, and perhaps tangleditself over her white face. Would her eyes be open and glazed, or halfshut? And her childish smile, the smile that looked so odd on the faceof a full-grown woman, would it have been fixed and seemed to confrontthe world of life with a meek question as to what she had done topeople--why she had been drowned? Hester felt sure that was what herhelpless stillness would have expressed. 

How happy the woman had been! To see her go about with her unconsciouslyjoyous eyes had sometimes been maddening. And yet, poor thing! why hadshe not the right to be happy? She was always trying to please peopleand help them. She was so good that she was almost silly. The day shehad brought the little things from London to The Kennel Farm, Hesterremembered that, despite her own morbid resentment, she had ended bykissing her with repentant tears. She heard again, in the midst of herdelirious thoughts, the nice, prosaic emotion of her voice as she said:

"_Don't_ thank me--don't. Just let us _enjoy_ ourselves. "

And she might have been lying among the long, thick weeds of the pond. And it would not have been the accident it would have appeared to be. Ofthat she felt sure. Brought face to face with this definiteness ofsituation, she began to shudder. 

She went out into the night feeling that she wanted air. She was notstrong enough to stand the realisation that she had become part of a webinto which she had not meant to be knitted. No; she had had herpassionate and desperate moments, but she had not meant things likethis. She had almost hoped that disaster might befall, she had almostthought it possible that she would do nothing to prevent it--almost. Butsome things were too bad. 

She felt small and young and hopelessly evil as she walked in the darkalong a grass path to a seat under a tree. The very stillness of thenight was a horror to her, especially when once an owl called, and againa dreaming bird cried in its nest. 

She sat under the tree in the dark for at least an hour. The thickshadow of the drooping branches hid her in actual blackness andseclusion. 

She said to herself later that some one of the occult powers shebelieved in had made her go out and sit in this particular spot, becausethere was a thing which was not to be, and she herself must comebetween. 

When she at last rose it was with panting breath. She stole back to herroom, and lighted with an unsteady hand a bedroom candle, whose flameflickered upon a distorted, little dark face. For as she had sat underthe tree she had, after a while, heard whispering begin quite near her;had caught, even in the darkness, a gleam of white, and had thereforedeliberately sat and listened. 

 * * * * *

There could be, to the purely normal geniality of Emily Walderhurst'snature, no greater relief than the recognition that a cloud had passedfrom the mood of another. 

When Hester appeared the next morning at the breakfast-table, she hademerged from her humour of the day before and was almost affectionate inher amiability. The meal at an end, she walked with Emily in the garden. 

She had never shown such interest in what pertained to her as sherevealed this morning. Something she had always before lacked Emilyrecognised in her for the first time, --a desire to ask friendlyquestions, to verge on the confidential. They talked long and withoutreserve. And how pretty it was of the girl, Emily thought, to care somuch about her health and her spirits, to be so interested in thedetails of her every-day life, even in the simple matter of thepreparation and serving of her food, as if the merest trifle was ofconsequence. It had been unfair, too, to fancy that she felt no interestin Walderhurst's absence and return. She had noticed everything closely, and actually thought he ought to come back at once. 

"Send for him, " she said quite suddenly; "send for him now. "

There was an eagerness expressed in the dark thinness of her face whichmoved Emily. 

"It is dear of you to care so much, Hester, " she said. "I didn't knowyou thought it mattered. "

"He must come, " said Hester. "That's all. Send for him. "

"I wrote a letter yesterday, " was Lady Walderhurst's meek rejoinder. "Igot nervous. "

"So did I get nervous, " said Hester; "so did I. "

That she was disturbed Emily could see. The little laugh she ended herwords with had an excited ring in it. 

During the Osborns' stay at Palstrey the two women had naturally seen agood deal of each other, but for the next two days they were scarcelyseparated at all. Emily, feeling merely cheered and supported by thefact that Hester made herself so excellent a companion, was not aware oftwo or three things. One was that Mrs. Osborn did not lose sight of herunless at such times as she was in the hands of Jane Cupp. 

"I may as well make a clean breast of it, " the young woman said. "I havea sense of responsibility about you that I haven't liked to speak ofbefore. It's half hysterical, I suppose, but it has got the better ofme. "

"You feel responsible for _me_!" exclaimed Emily, with wondering eyes. 

"Yes, I do, " she almost snapped. "You represent so much. Walderhurstought to be here. I'm not fit to take care of you. "

"I ought to be taking care of you, " said Emily, with gentle gravity. "Iam the older and stronger. You are not nearly so well as I am. "

Hester startled her by bursting into tears. 

"Then do as I tell you, " she said. "Don't go anywhere alone. Take JaneCupp with you. You have nearly had two accidents. Make Jane sleep inyour dressing-room. "

Emily felt a dreary chill creep over her. That which she had felt in theair when she had slowly turned an amazed face upon Jane in the LimeAvenue, that sense of the strangeness of things again closed her in. 

"I will do as you wish, " she answered. 

But before the next day closed all was made plain to her, all theawfulness, all the cruel, inhuman truth of things which seemed to losetheir possibility in the exaggeration of proportion which made theirincongruous ness almost grotesque. 

The very prettiness of the flowered boudoir, the very softness of thepeace in the velvet spread of garden before the windows, made it evenmore unreal. 

That day, the second one, Emily had begun to note the new thing. Hesterwas watching her, Hester was keeping guard. And as she realised this, the sense of the abnormalness of things grew, and fear grew with it. Shebegan to feel as if a wall were rising around her, built by unseenhands. 

The afternoon, an afternoon of deeply golden sun, they had spenttogether. They had read and talked. Hester had said most. She had toldstories of India, --curious, vivid, interesting stories, which seemed toexcite her. 

At the time when the sunlight took its deepest gold the tea-tray wasbrought in. Hester had left the room a short time before the footmanappeared with it, carrying it with the air of disproportionate solemnitywith which certain male domestics are able to surround the smallestservice. The tea had been frequently served in Hester's boudoir of late. During the last week, however, Lady Walderhurst's share of the meal hadbeen a glass of milk. She had chosen to take it because Mrs. Cupp hadsuggested that tea was "nervous. " Emily sat down at the table and filleda cup for Hester. She knew she would return in a few moments, so set thecup before Mrs. Osborn's place and waited. She heard the young woman'sfootsteps outside, and as the door opened she lifted the glass of milkto her lips. 

She was afterwards absolutely unable to describe to herself clearly whathappened the next moment. In fact, it was the next moment that she sawHester spring towards her, and the glass of milk had been knocked fromher hand and rolled, emptying itself, upon the floor. Mrs. Osborn stoodbefore her, clenching and unclenching her hands. 

"Have you drunk any of it?" she demanded. 

"No, " Emily answered. "I have not. "

Hester Osborn dropped into a chair and leaned forward, covering her facewith her hands. She looked like a woman on the verge of an outbreak ofhysteria, only to be held in check by a frenzied effort. 

Lady Walderhurst, quite slowly, turned the colour of the milk itself. But she did nothing but sit still and gaze at Hester. 

"Wait a minute. " The girl was trying to recover her breath. "Wait till Ican hold myself still. I am going to tell you now. I am going to tellyou. "

"Yes, " Emily answered faintly. 

It seemed to her that she waited twenty minutes before another word wasspoken, that she sat quite that long looking at the thin hands whichseemed to clutch the hidden face. This was a mistake arising from theintensity of the strain upon her nerves. It was scarcely five minutesbefore Mrs. Osborn lowered her hands and laid them, pressed tightly palmto palm, between her knees. 

She spoke in a low voice, such a voice as a listener outside could nothave heard. 

"Do you know, " she demanded, "what you represent to us--to me and to myhusband--as you sit there?"

Emily shook her head. The movement of disclaimer was easier than speech. She felt a sort of exhaustion. 

"I don't believe you do, " said Hester. "You don't seem to realiseanything. Perhaps it's because you are so innocent, perhaps it's becauseyou are so foolish. You represent the thing that we have the right to_hate_ most on earth. "

"Do _you_ hate me?" asked Emily, trying to adjust herself mentally tothe mad extraordinariness of the situation, and at the same timescarcely understanding why she asked her question. 

"Sometimes I do. When I do not I wonder at myself. " The girl paused asecond, looked down, as if questioningly, at the carpet, and then, lifting her eyes again, went on in a dragging, half bewildered voice:"When I do _not_, I actually believe it is because we are both--womentogether. Before, it was different. "

The look which Walderhurst had compared to "that of some nice animal inthe Zoo" came into Emily's eyes as two honest drops fell from them. 

"Would _you_ hurt me?" she faltered. "Could _you_ let other people hurtme?"

Hester leaned further forward in her chair, widening upon her suchhysterically insistent, terrible young eyes as made her shudder. 

"Don't you _see_?" she cried. "_Can't_ you see? But for _you_ my sonwould be what Walderhurst is--my son, not yours. "

"I understand, " said Emily. "I understand. "

"Listen!" Mrs. Osborn went on through her teeth. "Even for that, thereare things I haven't the nerve to stand. I have thought I could standthem. But I can't. It does not matter why. I am going to tell you thetruth. You represent too much. You have been too great a temptation. Nobody meant anything or planned anything at first. It all came bydegrees. To see you smiling and enjoying everything and adoring thatstilted prig of a Walderhurst put ideas into people's heads, and theygrew because every chance fed them. If Walderhurst would come home--"

Lady Walderhurst put out her hand to a letter which lay on the table. 

"I heard from him this morning, " she said. "And he has been sent to theHills because he has a little fever. He must be quiet. So you see he_cannot_ come yet. "

She was shivering, though she was determined to keep still. 

"What was in the milk?" she asked. 

"In the milk there was the Indian root Ameerah gave the village girl. Last night as I sat under a tree in the dark I heard it talked over. Only a few native women know it. "

There was a singular gravity in the words poor Lady Walderhurst spoke inreply. 

"That, " she said, "would have been the cruelest thing of all. "

Mrs. Osborn got up and came close to her. 

"If you had gone out on Faustine, " she said, "you would have met with_an accident_. It might or might not have killed you. But it would havebeen an accident. If you had gone downstairs before Jane Cupp saw thebit of broken balustrade you might have been killed--by accident again. If you had leaned upon the rail of the bridge you would have beendrowned, and no human being could have been accused or blamed. "

Emily gasped for breath, and lifted her head as if to raise it above thewall which was being slowly built round her. 

"Nothing will be done which can be proved, " said Hester Osborn. "I havelived among native people, and know. If Ameerah hated me and I could notget rid of her I should die, and it would all seem quite natural. "

She bent down and picked up the empty glass from the carpet. 

"It is a good thing it did not break, " she said, as she put it on thetray. "Ameerah will think you drank the milk and that nothing will hurtyou. You escape them always. She will be frightened. "

As she said it she began to cry a little, like a child. 

"Nothing will save _me_, " she said. "I shall have to go back, I shallhave to go back!"

"No, no!" cried Emily. 

The girl swept away her tears with the back of a clenched hand. 

"At first, when I hated you, " she was even petulant and plaintivelyresentful, "I thought I could let it go on. I watched, and watched, andbore it. But the strain was too great. I broke down. I think I brokedown one night, when something began to beat like a pulse against myside. "

Emily got up and stood before her. She looked perhaps rather as she hadlooked when she rose and stood before the Marquis of Walderhurst on amemorable occasion, the afternoon on the moor. She felt almost quiet, and safe. 

"What must I do?" she asked, as if she was speaking to a friend. "I amafraid. Tell me. "

Little Mrs. Osborn stood still and stared at her. The most incongruousthought came to her mind. She found herself, at this weird moment, observing how well the woman held her stupid head, how finely it was seton her shoulders, and that in a modern Royal Academy way she was ratherlike the Venus of Milo. It is quite out of place to think such things atsuch a time. But she found herself confronted with them. 

"Go away, " she answered. "It is all like a thing in a play, but I knowwhat I am talking about. Say you are ordered abroad. Be cool andmatter-of-fact. Simply go and hide yourself somewhere, and call yourhusband home as soon as he can travel. "

Emily Walderhurst passed her hand over her forehead. 

"It _is_ like something in a play, " she said, with a baffled, wonderingface. "It isn't even respectable. "

Hester began to laugh. 

"No, it isn't even respectable, " she cried. And her laughter was just intime. The door opened and Alec Osborn came in. 

"What isn't respectable?" he asked. 

"Something I have been telling Emily, " she answered, laughing even atrifle wildly. "You are too young to hear such things. You must be keptrespectable at any cost. "

He grinned, but faintly scowled at the same time. 

"You've upset something, " he remarked, looking at the carpet. 

"I have, indeed, " said Hester. "A cup of tea which was half milk. Itwill leave a grease spot on the carpet. That won't be respectable. "

When she had tumbled about among native servants as a child, she hadlearned to lie quickly, and she was very ready of resource. 

Chapter Nineteen

As she heard the brougham draw up in the wet street before the door, Mrs. Warren allowed her book to fall closed upon her lap, and herattractive face awakened to an expression of agreeable expectation, initself denoting the existence of interesting and desirable qualities inthe husband at the moment inserting his latch-key in the front doorpreparatory to mounting the stairs and joining her. The man who, aftertwenty-five years of marriage, can call, by his return to her side, thisexpression to the countenance of an intelligent woman is, withoutquestion or argument, an individual whose life and occupations are asinteresting as his character and points of view. 

Dr. Warren was of the mental build of the man whose life would beinteresting and full of outlook if it were spent on a desert island orin the Bastille. He possessed the temperament which annexes incident andadventure, and the perceptiveness of imagination which turns a lightupon the merest fragment of event. As a man whose days were filled withthe work attendant upon the exercise of a profession from which can bewithheld few secrets, and to which most mysteries explain themselves, his brain was the recording machine of impressions which might havestimulated to vividness of imagination a man duller than himself, androused to feeling one of far less warm emotions. 

He came into the room smiling. He was a man of fifty, of strong build, and masculine. He had good shoulders and good colour, and the eyes, nose, and chin of a man it would be a stupid thing to attempt to dealwith in a blackguardly manner. He sat down in his chair by the fire andbegan to chat, as was his habit before he and his wife parted to dressfor dinner. When he was out during the day he often looked forward tothese chats, and made notes of things he would like to tell his Mary. During her day, which was given to feminine duties and pleasures, shefrequently did the same thing. Between seven and eight in the eveningthey had delightful conversational opportunities. He picked up her bookand glanced it over, he asked her a few questions and answered a few;but she saw it was with a somewhat preoccupied manner. She knew acertain remote look in his eye, and she waited to see him get up fromhis chair and begin to walk to and fro, with his hands in his pocketsand his head thrown back. When, after having done this, he began inaddition to whistle softly and draw his eyebrows together, she broke inupon him in the manner of merely following an established custom. 

"I am perfectly sure, " was her remark, "that you have come upon one ofthe Extraordinary Cases. "

The last two words were spoken as with inverted commas. Of many deepinterests he added to her existence, the Extraordinary Cases were amongthe most absorbing. He had begun to discuss them with her during thefirst year of their married life. Accident had thrown one of them intoher immediate personal experience, and her clear-headed comprehensionand sympathy in summing up singular evidence had been of such value tohim that he had turned to her in the occurrence of others for the aidstraightforward, mutual logic could give. She had learned to await theExtraordinary Case with something like eagerness. Sometimes, it wastrue, its incidents were painful; but invariably they were absorbing intheir interest, and occasionally illuminating beyond description. Ofnames and persons it was not necessary she should hear anything--thedrama, the ethics, were enough. With an absolute respect for hisprofessional reserves, she asked no questions he could not reply tofreely, and avoided even the innocent following of clues. TheExtraordinary Case was always quite enough as it stood. When she saw theremotely speculative look in his eye, she suspected one, when he lefthis chair and paced the floor with that little air of restlessness, andended with unconscious whistling which was scarcely louder than abreath, she felt that evidence enough had accumulated for her. 

He stopped and turned round. 

"My good Mary, " he owned at once, "its extraordinariness consists in itsbaffling me by being so perfectly ordinary. "

"Well, at least that is not frequent. What is its nature? Is it awful?Is it sad? Is it eccentric? Is it mad or sane, criminal or domestic?"

"It is nothing but suggestive, and that it suggests mystery to me makesme feel as if I myself, instead of a serious practitioner, am aprofessional detective. "

"Is it a case in which you might need help?"

"It is a case in which I am impelled to give help, if it proves that itis necessary. She is such an exceedingly nice woman. "

"Good, bad, or indifferent?"

"Of a goodness, I should say--of a goodness which might prevent thebrain acting in the manner in which a brutal world requires at presentthat the human brain should act in self-defence. Of a goodness which maypossibly have betrayed her into the most pathetic trouble. "

"Of the kind--?" was Mrs. Warren's suggestion. 

"Of that kind, " with a troubled look; "but she is a married woman. "

"She _says_ she is a married woman. "

"No. She does not say so, but she looks it. That's the chief feature ofthe case. Any woman bearing more obviously the stamp of respectableBritish matrimony than this one does, it has not fallen to me to lookupon. "

Mrs. Warren's expression was _intriguée_ in the extreme. There was afreshness in this, at least. 

"But if she bears the stamp as well as the name--! Do tell me all it ispossible to tell. Come and sit down, Harold. "

He sat down and entered into details. 

"I was called to a lady who, though not ill, seemed fatigued from ahurried journey and, as it seemed to me, the effects of anxiety andrepressed excitement. I found her in a third-class lodging-house in athird-class street. It was a house which had the air of a place hastilymade inhabitable for some special reason. There were evidences thatmoney had been spent, but that there had been no time to arrange things. I have seen something of the kind before, and when I was handed into mypatient's sitting-room, thought I knew the type I should find. It isalways more or less the same, --a girl or a very young woman, pretty andrefined and frightened, or pretty and vulgar and 'carrying it off' withtransparent pretences and airs and graces. Anything more remote fromwhat I expected you absolutely cannot conceive. "

"Not young and pretty?"

"About thirty-five or six. A fresh, finely built woman with eyes ascandid as a six-year-old girl's. Quite unexplanatory and with the bestpossible manner, only sweetly anxious about her health. Her confidencein my advice and the earnestness of her desire to obey my leastinstructions were moving. Ten minutes' conversation with her revealed tome depths of long-secreted romance in my nature. I mentally began toswear fealty to her. "

"Did she tell you that her husband was away?"

"What specially struck me was that it did not occur to her that herhusband required stating, which was ingenuously impressive. She did notexplain her mother or her uncles, why her husband? Her mental attitudehad a translucent clearness. She wanted a medical man to take charge ofher, and if she had been an amiable, un-brilliant lady who was a memberof the royal house, she would have conversed with me exactly as shedid. "

"She was so respectable?"

"She was even a little Mid-Victorian, dear Mary; a sort of clean, healthy, Mid-Victorian angel. "

"There's an incongruousness in the figure in connection with beingobviously in hiding in a lodging-house street. " And Mrs. Warren gaveherself to reflection. 

"I cannot make it as incongruous as she was. I have not told you all. Ihave saved to the last the feature which marked her most definitely asan Extraordinary Case. I suppose one does that sort of thing from asense of drama. "

"What else?" inquired Mrs. Warren, roused from her speculation. 

"What respectable conclusion _could_ one deduce from the fact that aletter lay on the table near her, sealed with an imposing coat of arms. One's eye having accidentally fallen on it, one could, of course, onlyavoid glancing at it again, so I recognised nothing definite. Also, whenI was announced unexpectedly, I saw her quickly withdraw her hand fromher lips. She had been kissing a ring she wore. I could not help seeingthat afterwards. My good Mary, it was a ruby, of a size and colour whichrecalled the Arabian Nights. "

Mrs. Warren began to resign herself. 

"No, " she said, "there is no respectable conclusion to be drawn. It istragic, but prosaic. She has been governess or companion in some greathouse. She may be a well-born woman. It is ten times more hideous forher than if she were a girl. She has to writhe under knowing that bothher friends and her enemies are saying that she had not the excuse ofnot having been old enough to know better. "

"That might all be true, " he admitted promptly. "It _would_ be trueif--but she is not writhing. She is no more unhappy than you or I. Sheis only anxious, and I could swear that she is only anxious about onething. The moment in which I swore fealty to her was when she said tome, 'I want to be quite safe--until after. I do not care for myself. Iwill bear anything or do anything. Only one thing matters. I shall besuch a good patient. ' Then her eyes grew moist, and she closed her lipsdecorously to keep them from trembling. 

"They're not usually like that, " Mrs. Warren remarked. 

"I have not found them so, " he replied. 

"Perhaps she believes the man will marry her. "

There was odd unexpectedness in the manner in which Dr. Warren suddenlybegan to laugh. 

"My dear wife, if you could see her! It is the incongruity of what weare saying which makes me laugh. With her ruby and her coronets and herlodging-house street, she is of an impeccableness! She does not evenknow she could be doubted. Fifteen years of matrimony spent in SouthKensington, three girls in the schoolroom and four boys at Eton, couldnot have crystallised a more unquestionable serenity. And you are sayinggravely, 'Perhaps she believes the man will marry her. ' Whatsoever thesituation is, I am absolutely sure that she has never asked herselfwhether he would or not. "

"Then, " Mrs. Warren answered, "it is the most Extraordinary Case we havehad yet. "

"But I have sworn fealty to her, " was Warren's conclusion. "And she willtell me more later. " He shook his head with an air of certainty. "Yes, she will feel it necessary to tell me later. "

They went upstairs to dress for dinner, and during the remainder of theevening which they spent alone they talked almost entirely of thematter. 

Chapter Twenty

Lady Walderhurst's departure from Palstrey, though unexpected, had beencalm and matter-of-fact. All the Osborns knew was that she had beenobliged to go up to London for a day or two, and that when there, herphysician had advised certain German baths. Her letter of explanationand apology was very nice. She could not return to the country beforebeginning her journey. It seemed probable that she would return with herhusband, who might arrive in England during the next two months. 

"Has she heard that he is coming back?" Captain Osborn asked his wife. 

"She has written to ask him to come. "

Osborn grinned. 

"He will be obliged to her. He is tremendously pleased with hisimportance at this particular time, and he is just the sort of man--aswe both know--to be delighted at being called back to preside over anaffair which is usually a matter for old women. "

But the letter he had examined, as it lay with the rest awaiting postal, he had taken charge of himself. He knew that one, at least, would notreach Lord Walderhurst. Having heard in time of the broken bridge-rail, he had been astute enough to guess that the letter written immediatelyafter the incident might convey such impressions as might lead even hislordship to feel that it would be well for him to be at home. The womanhad been frightened, and would be sure to lose her head and play thefool. In a few days she would calm down and the affair would assumesmaller proportions. At any rate, he had chosen to take charge of thisparticular letter. 

What he did not know, however, was that chance had played into his handsin the matter of temporarily upsetting Lord Walderhurst's ratherunreliable digestion, and in altering his plans, by a smart, though notdangerous, attack of fever which had ended in his being ordered to apart of the hill country not faithfully reached by letters; as a resultof which several communications from his wife went astray and wereunduly delayed. At the time Captain Osborn was discussing him withHester, he was taking annoyed care of himself with the aid of a doctor, irritated by the untoward disturbance of his arrangements, and giving, it is true, comparatively little thought to his wife, who, beingcomfortably installed at Palstrey Manor, was doubtless enjoyablyabsorbed in little Mrs. Osborn. 

"What German baths does she intend going to?" Alec Osborn inquired. 

Hester consulted the letter with a manner denoting but languid interest. 

"It's rather like her that she doesn't go to the length of explaining, "was her reply. "She has a way of telling you a great many things youdon't care to know, and forgetting to mention those you are interestedin. She is very detailed about her health, and her affection and mine. She evidently expects us to go back to The Kennel Farm, and deplores herinhospitality, with adjectives. "

She did not look as if she was playing a part; but she was playing one, and doing it well. Her little way was that of a nasty-tempered, self-centred woman, made spiteful by being called upon to leave a placewhich suited her. 

"You are not really any fonder of her than I am, " commented Osborn, after regarding her speculatively a few moments. If he had been as sureof her as he had been of Ameerah--!

"I don't know of any reason for my being particularly fond of her, " shesaid. "It's easy enough for a rich woman to be good-natured. It doesn'tcost her enough to constitute a claim. "

Osborn helped himself to a stiff whiskey and soda. They went back to TheKennel Farm the next day, and though it was his habit to consume a largenumber of "pegs" daily, the habit increased until there were not manyhours in the day when he was normally sure of what he was doing. 

The German baths to which Lady Walderhurst had gone were nearer toPalstrey than any one knew. They were only at a few hours' distance byrail. 

When, after a day spent in a quiet London lodging, Mrs. Cupp returned toher mistress with the information that she had been to the house inMortimer Street and found that the widow who had bought the lease andfurniture was worn out with ill-luck and the uncertainty of lodgers, andonly longed for release which was not ruin, Emily cried a little forjoy. 

"Oh, how I should like to be there!" she said. "It was such a dearhouse. No one would ever dream of my being in it. And I need have no onebut you and Jane. I should be so safe and quiet. Tell her you have afriend who will take it, as it is, for a year, and pay her anything. "

"I won't tell her quite that, my lady, " Mrs. Cupp made sagacious answer. "I'll make her an offer in ready money down, and no questions asked byeither of us. People in her position sometimes gets a sudden let thatpays them better than lodgers. All classes has their troubles, andsometimes a decent house is wanted for a few months, where money can bepaid. I'll make her an offer. "

The outcome of which was that the widowed householder walked out of herdomicile the next morning with a heavier purse and a lighter mind thanshe had known for many months. The same night, ingenuously oblivious ofhaving been called upon to fill the role of a lady in genteel "trouble, "good and decorous Emily Walderhurst arrived under the cover of discreetdarkness in a cab, and when she found herself in the "best bedroom, "which had once been so far beyond her means, she cried a little for joyagain, because the four dull walls, the mahogany dressing-table, andugly frilled pincushions looked so unmelodramatically normal and safe. 

"It seems so home-like, " she said; adding courageously, "it is a verycomfortable place, really. "

"We can make it much more cheerful, my lady, " Jane said, with gratefulappreciation. "And the relief makes it like Paradise. " She was leavingthe room and stopped at the door. "There's not a person, black or white, can get across the door-mat, past mother and me, until his lordshipcomes, " she allowed herself the privilege of adding. 

Emily felt a little nervous when she pictured to herself LordWalderhurst crossing the door-mat of a house in Mortimer Street insearch of his Marchioness. She had not yet had time to tell him thestory of the episode of the glass of milk and Hester Osborn's suddenoutburst. Every moment had been given to carefully managed arrangementfor the journey which was to seem so natural. Hester's cleverness hadsuggested every step and had supported her throughout. But for Hestershe was afraid she might have betrayed herself. There had been no timefor writing. But when James received her letter (of late she had morethan once thought of him as "James"), he would know the one thing thatwas important. And she had asked him to come to her. She had apologisedfor suggesting any alteration of his plans, but she had really asked himto come to her. 

"I think he will come, " she said to herself. "I do think he will. Ishall be so glad. Perhaps I have not been sensible, perhaps I have notdone the best thing, but if I keep myself safe until he comes back, thatreally seems what is most important. "

Two or three days in the familiar rooms, attended only by the twofriendly creatures she knew so well, seemed to restore the balance oflife for her. Existence became comfortable and prosaic again. The bestbedroom and the room in which she spent her days were made quitecheerful through Jane's enterprise and memories of the appointments ofPalstrey. Jane brought her tea in the morning, Mrs. Cupp presided overthe kitchen. The agreeable doctor, whose reputation they had heard somuch of, came and went, leaving his patient feeling that she mightestablish a friendship. He looked so clever and so kind. 

She began to smile her childlike smile again. Mrs. Cupp and Jane toldeach other in private that if she had not been a married lady, theywould have felt that she was Miss Fox-Seton again. She looked so likeherself, with her fresh colour and her nice, cheerful eyes. And yet tothink of the changes there had been, and what they had gone through!

People in London know nothing--or everything--of their neighbours. Thepeople who lived in Mortimer Street were of the hard-workedlodging-house keeping class, and had too many anxieties connected withbutcher's bills, rent, and taxes, to be able to give much time to theirneighbours. The life in the house which had changed hands had nothingnoticeable about it. It looked from the outside as it had always looked. The door-steps were kept clean, milk was taken in twice a day, and localtradesmen's carts left things in the ordinary manner. A doctoroccasionally called to see someone, and the only person who had inquiredabout the patient (she was a friendly creature, who met Mrs. Cupp at thegrocer's, and exchanged a few neighbourly words) was told that ladieswho lived in furnished apartments, and had nothing to do, seemed to findan interest in seeing a doctor about things working-women had no time tobother about. Mrs. Cupp's view seemed to be that doctor's visits andmedicine bottles furnished entertainment. Mrs. Jameson had "as good acolour and as good an appetite as you or me, " but she was one who"thought she caught cold easy, " and she was "afraid of fresh air. "

Dr. Warren's interest in the Extraordinary Case increased at each visithe made. He did not see the ruby ring again. When he had left the houseafter his first call, Mrs. Cupp had called Lady Walderhurst's attentionto the fact that the ring was on her hand, and could not be consideredcompatible with even a first floor front in Mortimer Street. Emily hadbeen frightened and had removed it. 

"But the thing that upsets me when I hand him in, " Jane said to hermother anxiously in private, "is the way she can't help looking. Youknow what I mean, mother, --her nice, free, _good_ look. And we never_could_ talk to her about it. We should have to let her know that it'smore than likely he thinks she's just what she isn't. It makes me mad tothink of it. But as it had to be, if she only looked a little awkward, or not such a lady, or a bit uppish and fretful, she would seem so muchmore real. And then there's another thing. You know she always _did_carry her head well, even when she was nothing but poor Miss Fox-Setontramping about shopping with muddy feet. And now, having been amarchioness till she's got used to it, and knowing that she is one, gives her an innocent, stately look sometimes. It's a thing she doesn'tknow of herself, but I do declare that sometimes as she's sat theretalking just as sweet as could be, I've felt as if I ought to say, 'Oh!if you please, my lady, if you _could_ look not quite so much as ifyou'd got on a tiara. '"

"Ah!" and Mrs. Cupp shook her head, "but that's what her Maker did forher. She was born just what she looks, and she looks just what she wasborn, --a respectable female. "

Whereby Dr. Warren continued to feel himself baffled. 

"She only goes out for exercise after dark, Mary, " he said. "Also in thecourse of conversation I have discovered that she believes every word ofthe Bible literally, and would be alarmed if one could not accept theAthanasian Creed. She is rather wounded and puzzled by the curses itcontains, but she feels sure that it would be wrong to question anythingin the Church Service. Her extraordinariness is wholly herincompatibleness. "

Gradually they had established the friendship Emily had thoughtpossible. Once or twice Dr. Warren took tea with her. Her unabashed andaccustomed readiness of hospitality was as incompatible with hercircumstances as all the rest. She had the ease of a woman who hadamiably poured out tea for afternoon callers all her life. Women whowere uncertain of themselves were not amiably at ease with small socialamenities. Her ingenuous talk and her fervent italics were an absolutedelight to the man who was studying her. He, too, had noticed thecarriage of her head Jane Cupp had deplored. 

"I should say she was well born, " he commented to his wife. "She holdsherself as no common woman could. "

"Ah! I haven't a doubt that she is well born, poor soul. "

"No, not 'poor soul. ' No woman who is as happy as she is needs pity. Since she has had time to rest, she looks radiant. "

In course of time, however, she was less radiant. Most people knowsomething of waiting for answers to letters written to foreign lands. Itseems impossible to calculate correctly as to what length of time mustelapse before the reply to the letter one sent by the last mail canreach one. He who waits is always premature in the calculation he makes. The mail should be due at a certain date, one is so sure. The lettercould be written on such a day and posted at once. But the datecalculated for arrives, passes, --the answer has not come. Who does notremember?

Emily Walderhurst had passed through the experience and knew it well. But previously the letters she had sent had been of less vitalimportance. When the replies to them had lingered on their way she had, it is true, watched eagerly ', for the postman, and had lived restlesslybetween the arrivals of the mails, but she had taught herselfresignation to the inevitable. Now life had altered its aspect and itssignificance. She had tried, with the aid of an untried imagination, topaint to herself the moments in which her husband would read the letterwhich told him what she had told. She had wondered if he would start, ifhe would look amazed, if his grey-brown eyes would light with pleasure!Might he not want to see her? Might he not perhaps write at once? Shenever could advance farther in her imagined reading of this reply thanthe first lines:

"MY DEAR EMILY, --The unexpected good news your letter contains has givenme the greatest satisfaction. You do not perhaps know how strong mydesire has been--"

She used to sit and flush with happiness when she reached this point. She so wished that she was capable of depicting to herself what the restwould be. 

She calculated with the utmost care the probable date of the epistle'sarrival. She thought she made sure of allowing plenty of time for allpossible delays. The safety of her letters she had managed, withHester's aid, to arrange for. They were forwarded to her bankers andcalled for. Only the letters from India were of any importance, and theywere not frequent. She told herself that she must be even more thanusually patient this time. When the letter arrived, if he told her hefelt it proper that he should return, no part of the strange experienceshe had passed through would be of moment. When she saw his decorous, well-bred face and heard his correctly modulated voice, all else wouldseem like an unnatural dream. 

In her relief at the decent composure of the first floor front inMortimer Street the days did not seem at first to pass slowly. But asthe date she had counted on drew near she could not restrain a naturalrestlessness. She looked at the clock and walked up and down the room agood deal. She was also very glad when night came and she could go tobed. Then she was glad when the morning arrived, because she was a daynearer to the end. 

On a certain evening Dr. Warren said to his wife, "She is not so wellto-day. When I called I found her looking pale and anxious. When Icommented on the fact and asked how she was, she said that she had had adisappointment. She had been expecting an important letter by a mailarriving yesterday, and it had not come. She was evidently in lowspirits. "

"Perhaps she has kept up her spirits before because she believed theletter would come, " Mrs. Warren speculated. 

"She has certainly believed it would come. "

"Do _you_ think it will, Harold?"

"She thinks it will yet. She was pathetically anxious not to beimpatient. She said she knew there were so many reasons for delay whenpeople were in foreign countries and very much occupied. "

"There are many reasons, I daresay, " said Mrs. Warren with a touch ofbitterness, " but they are not usually the ones given to waiting, desperate women. "

Dr. Warren stood upon the hearthrug and gazed into the fire, knittinghis brows. 

"She wanted to tell or ask me something this afternoon, " he said, "butshe was afraid. She looked like a good child in great trouble. I thinkshe will speak before long. "

She looked more and more like a good child in trouble as time passed. Mail after mail came in, and she received no letter. She did notunderstand, and her fresh colour died away. She spent her time now ininventing reasons for the non-arrival of her letter. None of themcomprised explanations which could be disparaging in any sense toWalderhurst. Chiefly she clung to the fact that he had not been well. Anything could be considered a reason for neglecting letter writing if aman was not well. If his illness had become serious she would, ofcourse, have heard from his doctor. She would not allow herself tocontemplate that. But if he was languid and feverish, he might so easilyput off writing from day to day. This was all the more plausible as areason, since he had not been a profuse correspondent. He had onlywritten when he had found he had leisure, with decent irregularity, soto speak. 

At last, however, on a day when she had felt the strain of waitinggreater than she had courage for, and had counted every moment of thehour which must elapse before Jane could return from her mission ofinquiry, as she rested on the sofa she heard the girl mount the stairswith a step whose hastened lightness wakened in her an excitedhopefulness. 

She sat up with brightened face and eager eyes. How foolish she had beento fret. Now--now everything would be different. Ah! how thankful shewas to God for being so good to her!

"I think you must have a letter, Jane, " she said the moment the dooropened. "I felt it when I heard your footstep. "

Jane was touching in her glow of relief and affection. 

"Yes, my lady, I have, indeed. And they said at the bank that it hadcome by a steamer that was delayed by bad weather. "

Emily took the letter. Her hand shook, but it was with pleasure. Sheforgot Jane, and actually kissed the envelope before she opened it. Itlooked like a beautiful, long letter. It was quite thick. 

But when she had opened it, she saw that the letter itself was not verylong. Several extra sheets of notes or instructions, it did not matterwhat, seemed to be enclosed. Her hand shook so that she let them fall onthe floor. She looked so agitated that Jane was afraid to do more thanretire discreetly and stand outside the door. 

In a few minutes she congratulated herself on the wisdom of not havinggone downstairs. She heard a troubled exclamation of wonder, and then acall for herself. 

"Jane, please, Jane!"

Lady Walderhurst was still sitting upon the sofa, but she looked paleand unsteady. The letter was in her hand, which rested weakly in herlap. It seemed as if she was so bewildered that she felt helpless. 

She spoke in a tired voice. 

"Jane, " she said, "I think you will have to get me a glass of wine. Idon't think I am going to faint, but I do feel so--so upset. "

Jane was at her side kneeling by her. 

"Please, my lady, lie down, " she begged. "Please do. "

But she did not lie down. She sat trembling and looking at the girl in apathetic, puzzled fashion. 

"I don't think, " she quavered, "that his lordship can have received myletter. He can't have received it. He doesn't say anything. He doesn'tsay one word--"

She had been too healthy a woman to be subject to attacks of nerves. Shehad never fainted before in her life, and as she spoke she did not atall understand why Jane seemed to move up and down, and darkness came onsuddenly in the middle of the morning. 

Jane managed by main strength to keep her from falling from the sofa, and thanked Providence for the power vouchsafed to her. She reached thebell and rang it violently, and hearing it, Mrs. Cupp came upstairs withheavy swiftness. 

Chapter Twenty one

Naturally a perceptive and closely reasoning woman, Mrs. Warren's closeintellectual intimacy with her husband had, in giving her the benefit ofintercourse with a wide experience, added greatly to her power ofreasoning by deduction. Warren frequently felt that his talk with herwas something like consultation with a specially clever and sympatheticprofessional confrère. Her suggestions or conclusions were invariablyworth consideration. More than once his reflection upon them had led himto excellent results. She made one night a suggestion with regard to theExtraordinary Case which struck him as being more than usually astute. 

"Is she an intellectual woman?" she inquired. 

"Not in the least. An unsparingly brilliant person might feel himselfentitled to the right to call her stupid. "

"Is she talkative?"

"Far from it. One of her charms is the nice respect she seems to feelfor the remarks of others. "

"And she is not excitable?"

"Rather the reverse. If excitability is liveliness, she is dull. "

"I see, " slowly, "you have not yet thought it possible that shemight--well--be under some delusion. "

Warren turned quickly and looked at her. 

"It is wonderfully brilliant of you to have thought of it. A delusion?"He stood and thought it over. 

"Do you remember, " his wife assisted him with, "the complications whicharose from young Mrs. Jerrold's running away, under similarcircumstances, to Scotland and hiding herself in a shepherd's cottageunder the impression that her husband was shadowing her with detectives?You recollect what a lovable woman she was, and what horror she felt ofthe poor fellow. "

"Yes, yes. That was an Extraordinary Case too. "

Mrs. Warren warmed with her subject. 

"Here is a woman obviously concealing herself from the world in alodging-house, plainly possessing money, owning a huge ruby ring, receiving documents stamped with imposing seals, taking exercise only bynight, heart-wrung over the non-arrival of letters which are due. Everydetail points to one painful, dubious situation. On the other hand, shepresents to you the manner and aspect of a woman who is absolutely notdubious, and who is merely anxious on the one point a dubious personwould be indifferent to. Isn't it, then, possible that over-wroughtphysical condition may have driven her to the belief that she is hidingfrom danger. "

Dr. Warren was evidently following the thought seriously. 

"She said, " reflecting, "that all that mattered was that she should besafe. 'I want to keep safe. ' That was it. You are very enlightening, Mary, always. I will go and see her again to-morrow. But, " as the resultof another memory, "how sane she seems!"

 * * * * *

He was thinking of this possible aspect of the matter as he mounted thestaircase of the house in Mortimer Street the next day. The stairway wasof the ordinary lodging-house type, its dinginess somewhat alleviated bythe fact that the Cupps had covered the worn carpet with cleanwarm-coloured felting. The yellowish marbled paper on the wallsdepressed the mind as one passed it; the indeterminate dun paint haddefied fog for years. The whole house presented only such features aswould encourage its proprietors to trust to the sufficing of infrequentre-decoration. 

Jane had, however, made efforts in behalf of the drawing-room, in whichher mistress spent her days. She had introduced palliations by degreesand with an unobtrusiveness which was not likely to attract theattention of neighbours unaccustomed to lavish delivery by means offurniture vans. She had brought in a rug or so, and had graduallyreplaced objects with such as were more pleasant to live with and morecomfortable to use. Dr. Warren had seen the change wrought, and hadnoted evidences that money was not unobtainable. The maid also was ayoung woman whose manner towards her mistress was not merely respectfuland well-bred, but suggestive of watchful affection bordering onreverence. Jane Cupp herself was a certificate of decorum and goodstanding. It was not such young women who secluded themselves withquestionable situations. As she laid her hand on the drawing-room doorto open it and announce him, it occurred to Dr. Warren that he wouldtell Mary that evening that if Mrs. Jameson had been the heroine of anyunconventional domestic drama it was an unmistakable fact that Jane Cuppwould have "felt it her duty as a young woman to leave this day month, if you please, ma'am, " quite six months ago. And there she was, in aneat gown and apron, --evidently a fixture because she liked herplace, --her decent young face full of sympathetic interest. 

The day was dull and cold, but the front room was warm and made cheerfulby fire. Mrs. Jameson was sitting at a writing-table. There were lettersbefore her, and she seemed to have been re-reading them. She did not anylonger bloom with normal health. Her face was a little dragged, and thefirst thing he noted in the eyes she lifted to him was that they werebewildered. 

"She has had a shock, " he thought. "Poor woman!"

He began to talk to her about herself with the kindly perception whichwas inseparable from him. He wondered if the time had not come when shewould confide in him. Her shock, whatsoever it had been, had left her inthe position of a woman wholly at a loss to comprehend what hadoccurred. He saw this in her ingenuous troubled face. He felt as if shewas asking herself what she should do. It was not unlikely thatpresently she would ask him what she should do. He had been asked suchthings before by women, but they usually added trying detail accompaniedby sobs, and appealed to his chivalry for impossible aid. Sometimes theyimplored him to go to people and use his influence. 

Emily answered all his questions with her usual sweet, good sense. Shewas not well. Yesterday she had fainted. 

"Was there any disturbing reason for the faint?" he inquired. 

"It was because I was--very much disappointed, " she answered, hesitating. "I had a letter which--It was not what I expected. "

She was thinking desperately. She could understand nothing. It was notexplainable that what she had written did not matter at all, that Jamesshould have made no reply. 

"I was awake all night, " she added. 

"That must not go on, " he said. 

"I was thinking--and thinking, " nervously. 

"I can see that, " was his answer. 

Perhaps she ought to have courage to say nothing. It might be safer. Butit was so lonely not to dare to ask anyone's advice, that she wasgetting frightened. India was thousands and thousands of miles away, andletters took so long to come and go. Anxiety might make her ill beforeshe could receive a reply to a second letter. And perhaps now in herterror she had put herself into a ridiculous position. How could shesend for Lady Maria to Mortimer Street and explain to her? She realisedalso that her ladyship's sense of humour might not be a thing to confidein safely. 

Warren's strong, amiable personality was good for her. It served to aidher to normal reasoning. Though she was not aware of the fact, herfears, her simplicity, and her timorous adoration of her husband had notallowed her to reason normally in the past. She had been too anxious andtoo much afraid. 

Her visitor watched her with great interest and no little curiosity. Hehimself saw that her mood was not normal. She did not look as poor Mrs. Jerrold had looked, but she was not in a normal state. 

He made his visit a long one purposely. Tea was brought up, and he drankit with her. He wanted to give her time to make up her mind about him. When at last he rose to go away, she rose also. She looked nervouslyundecided, but let him go towards the door. 

Her move forward was curiously sudden. 

"No, no, " she said. "Please come back. I--oh!--I really think I ought totell you. "

He turned towards her, wishing that Mary were with him. She stood tryingto smile, and looking so entirely nice and well-behaved even in heragitation. 

"If I were not so puzzled, or if there was _anybody_--" she said. "Ifyou could only advise me; I must--I _must_ keep safe. "

"There is something you want to tell me?" he said quietly. 

"Yes, " she answered. "I am so anxious, and I am sure it must be bad forone to be anxious always. I have not dared to tell anyone. My name isnot Mrs. Jameson, Dr. Warren. I am--I am Lady Walderhurst. "

He barely managed to restrain a start. He was obliged to admit tohimself that he had not thought of anything like this. But Mary had beenright. 

Emily blushed to her ears with embarrassment. He did not believe her. 

"But I _am_ really, " she protested. "I _really_ am. I was married lastyear. I was Emily Fox-Seton. Perhaps you remember. "

She was not flighty or indignant. Her frank face was only a little moretroubled than it had been before. She looked straight into his eyeswithout a doubt of his presently believing her. Good heavens! if--

She walked to the writing-table and picked up a number of letters. Theywere all stamped with the same seal. She brought them to him almostcomposedly. 

"I ought to have remembered how strange it would sound, " she said in heramenable voice. "I hope I am not doing wrong in speaking. I hope youwon't mind my troubling you. It seemed as if I _couldn't_ bear it aloneany longer. "

After which she told him her story. 

 * * * * *

The unadorned straightforwardness of the relation made it an amazingthing to hear, even more amazing than it would have been made by a moreimaginative handling. Her obvious inability to cope with the unusual andvillainous, combined with her entire willingness to obliterate herselfin any manner in her whole-souled tenderness for the one present objectof her existence, were things a man could not be unmoved by, even thoughexperience led him to smile at the lack of knowledge of the world whichhad left her without practical defence. Her very humbleness and candourmade her a drama in herself. 

"Perhaps I was wrong to run away. Perhaps only a silly woman would havedone such a queer, unconventional thing. But I could think of nothingelse so likely to be quite safe, until Lord Walderhurst could advise me. And when his letter came yesterday, and he did not speak of what I hadsaid--" Her voice quite failed her. 

"Captain Osborn has detained your letter. Lord Walderhurst has not seenit. "

Life began to come back to her. She had been so horribly bewildered asto think at moments that perhaps it might be that a man who was verymuch absorbed in affairs--

"The information you sent him is the most important, and moving, a manin his position could receive. "

"Do you think so, _really_?" She lifted her head with new courage andher colour returned. 

"It is impossible that it should be otherwise. It is, I assure you, _impossible_, Lady Walderhurst. "

"I am so thankful, " she said devoutly. "I am so _thankful_ that I havetold you. "

Anything more touching and attractive than her full eyes and hergrown-up child's smile he felt he had never seen. 

Chapter Twenty two

The attack of fever which had seemed to begin lightly for LordWalderhurst assumed proportions such as his medical man had notanticipated. His annoyance at finding his duties interfered with frettedhim greatly. He was not, under the circumstances, a good patient, and, partly as a result of his state of mind, he began, in the course of afew weeks, to give his doctors rather serious cause for anxiety. On themorning following Emily's confession to Dr. Warren she had received aletter from her husband's physician, notifying her of his new anxietiesin connection with his patient. His lordship required extreme care andabsolute freedom from all excitement. Everything which medical scienceand perfect nursing could do would be done. The writer asked LadyWalderhurst's collaboration with him in his efforts at keeping theinvalid as far as possible in unperturbed spirits. For some time itseemed probable that letter writing and reading would be out of thequestion, but if, when correspondence might be resumed, Lady Walderhurstwould keep in mind the importance of serenity to the convalescent, thecase would have all in its favour. This, combined with expressions ofsympathetic encouragement and assurances that the best might be hopedfor, was the gist of the letter. When Dr. Warren arrived, Emily handedthe epistle to him and watched him as he read it. 

"You see, " she said when he looked up, "that I did not speak too soon. Now I shall have to trust to you for everything. I could _never_ haveborne it _all_ by myself. Could I?"

"Perhaps not, " thinking it over; "but you are very brave. "

"I don't think I'm brave, " thinking it over on her own part, "but itseemed as if there were things I _must_ do. But now you will advise me. "

She was as biddable as a child, he told his wife afterwards, and that awoman of her height and carriage should be as biddable as she might havebeen at six years old, was an effective thing. 

"She will do anything I tell her, she will go anywhere I advise. Iadvise that she shall go to her husband's house in Berkeley Square, andthat together you and I will keep unobtrusive guard over her. All isquite simple, really. All would have been comparatively simple at theoutset, if she had felt sure enough of her evidence to dare to confidein some practical person. But she was too uncertain and too much afraidof scandal, which might annoy her husband. She is deeply in awe of LordWalderhurst and deeply in love with him. "

"When one realises how unnecessary qualities and charms seem to be tothe awakening of the tender emotion, it is rather dull, perhaps, to askwhy. Yet one weakly asks it, " was Mrs. Warren's summation. 

"And one cannot supply the answer. But the mere devotion itself in thisnice creature is a thing to be respected. She will control even heranxieties and reveal nothing while she writes her cheerful letters, assoon as she is allowed to write them. "

"Lord Walderhurst will be told nothing?"

"Nothing until his recovery is complete. Now that she has made a cleanbreast of everything to me and given herself into my hands, I believethat she finds a sentimental pleasure in the thought of keeping hersecret until he returns. I will confess to you, Mary, that I think thatshe has read of and tenderly sympathised with heroines who have done thelike before. She does not pose to herself as a heroine, but she dwellsaffectionately on ingenuous mental pictures of what Lord Walderhurstwill say. It is just as well that it should be so. It is better for herthan fretting would be. Experience helped me to gather from the medicalman's letter that his patient is in no condition to be told news of anykind, good or bad. "

The house in Berkeley Square was reopened. Lady Walderhurst returned toit, as it was understood below stairs, from a visit to some Germanhealth resort. Mrs. Cupp and Jane returned with her. The wife of herphysician in attendance was with her a great deal. It was mostunfortunate for her ladyship that my lord was detained in India byillness. 

The great household, having presented opened shutters to the world, wenton in the even tenor of its way. There brooded over it, however, a sortof hushed dignity of atmosphere. The very housemaids wore an air ofgrave discretion. Their labours assumed the proportions of confidentialinterested service, in which they felt a private pride. Not one amongthem had escaped becoming attached to Lady Walderhurst. 

Away from Palstrey, away from Mortimer Street, Emily began to findreality in the fact that everything had already become quite simple, after all. The fine rooms looked so well ordered and decent in a statelyway. Melodramatic plotting ceased to exist as she looked at certaindignified sofas and impressive candelabra. Such things became even moreimpossible than they had become before the convincingness of the firstfloor front bedroom in Mortimer Street, She began to give a good deal ofthought to the summer at Mallowe. There was an extraordinary luxury inliving again each day of it, the morning when she had taken thethird-class carriage which provided her with hot, labouring men incorduroys as companions, that fleeting moment when the tall man with thesquare face had passed the carriage and looked straight through herwithout seeming to see her at all. She sat and smiled tenderly at themere reminiscent thought. And then the glimpse of him as he got into thehigh phaeton at the station; and the moment when Lady Maria hadexclaimed "There's Walderhurst, " and he had come swinging with hisleisurely step across the lawn. And he had scarcely seemed to see herthen, or notice her really when they met, until the morning he hadjoined her as she gathered the roses and had talked to her about LadyAgatha. But he had actually been noticing her a little even from thefirst--he had been thinking about her a little all the time. And how farshe had been from guessing it when she had talked to Lady Agatha, howpleased she had been the morning of the rose gathering when he hadseemed interested only in Agatha's self! She always liked to recall, however, the way in which he had asked the few questions about her ownaffairs. Her simplicity never wearied of the fascination of the way inwhich he had looked at her, standing on the pathway, with thatdelightful non-committal fixing of her with the monocle when she hadsaid:

"People _are_ kind. You see, I have nothing to give, and I always seemto be receiving. "

And he had gazed at her quite unmovedly and answered only:

"What luck!"

But since then he had mentioned this moment as one of those in which hehad felt that he might want to marry her, because she was so unconsciousof the fact that she gave much more to everybody than she received, thatshe had so much to give and was totally unaware of the value of hergifts. 

"His thoughts of me are so _beautiful_ very often, " was her favouritereflection, "though he always has that composed way of saying things. What he says seems more _valuable_, because he is like that. "

In truth, his composed way of saying things it was which seemed to herincomparable. Even when, without understanding its own longing for athing it lacked, her heart had felt itself a little unsustained she hadnever ceased to feel the fascination of his entire freedom from anyshadow of interest in the mental attitude of others towards himself. When he stood and gazed at people through the glass neatly screwed intohis eye, one felt that it was he whose opinion was of importance, notthe other person's. Through sheer chill imperviousness he seemedentirely detached from the powers of criticism. What people said orthought of his fixed opinion on a subject was not of the leastconsequence, in fact did not exist; the entities of the persons whocavilled at such opinions themselves ceased to exist, so far as he wasconcerned. His was the immovable temperament. He did not snub people: hecut the cord of mental communication with them and dropped them intospace. Emily thought this firmness and reserved dignity, and quailedbefore the thought of erring in such a manner as would cause him to sosend her soul adrift. Her greatest terror during the past months hadbeen the fear of making him ridiculous, of putting him in some positionwhich might annoy him by objectionable publicity. 

But now she had no further fears, and could wait in safety and dwell inpeace upon her memories and her hopes. She even began to gain a kind ofcourage in her thoughts of him. 

The atmosphere of the Berkeley Square mansion was good for her. She hadnever felt so much its mistress before the staff of servants of whoseexistence she was the centre, who so plainly served her with carefulpleasure, who considered her least wish or inclination as a royalcommand, increased her realisation of her security and power. TheWarrens, who understood the dignity and meaning of mere worldly factsher nature did not grasp, added subtly to her support. Gradually shelearned to reveal herself in simple talk to Mrs. Warren, who found her, when so revealed, a case more extraordinary than she had been whenenshrouded in dubious mystery. 

"She is absolutely delicious, " Mrs. Warren said to her husband. "That anadoration such as hers could exist in the nineteenth century is--"

"Almost degenerate, " he laughed. 

"Perhaps it is regenerate, " reflecting. "Who knows! Nothing earthly, orheavenly, would induce me to cast a doubt upon it. Seated opposite to aportrait of her James, I hear her opinions of him, when she is not inthe least aware of what her simplest observation conveys. She does notknow that she is including him when she is talking of other things, thatone sees that while she is too shy to openly use his name much, the verybreath of her life is a reference to him. Her greatest bliss at presentis to go unobtrusively into his special rooms and sit there dwellingupon his goodness to her. "

In fact Emily spent many a quiet hour in the apartments she had visitedon the day of her farewell to her husband. She was very happy there. Hersoul was uplifted by her gratitude for the peace she had reached. Thereports of Lord Walderhurst's physician were never alarming andgenerally of a reassuring nature. But she knew that he must exercisegreat caution, and that time must elapse before he could confront hisreturn voyage. He would come back as soon as was quite safe. And in themeantime her world held all that she could desire, lacking himself. 

Her emotion expressed itself in her earnest performance of her reverentdaily devotions. She read many chapters of the Bible, and often sathappily absorbed in the study of her Book of Common Prayer. She foundsolace and happiness in such things, and spent her Sunday mornings, after the ringing of the church bells, quite alone in Walderhurst'sstudy, following the Service and reading the Collects and Lessons. Theroom used to seem so beautifully still, even Berkeley Square wearing itschurch-hour aspect suggested devout aloofness from worldly things. 

"I sit at the window and _think_, " she explained to Mrs. Warren. "It isso nice there. "

She wrote her letters to India in this room. She did not know how farthe new courage in her thoughts of her husband expressed itself in theseletters. When Walderhurst read them, however, he felt a sense of changein her. Women were sometimes spoken of as "coming out amazingly. " Hebegan to feel that Emily was, in a measure at least, "coming out. "Perhaps her gradually increasing feeling of accustomedness to the changein her life was doing it for her. She said more in her letters, and saidit in a more interesting way. It was perhaps rather suggestive of thedevelopment of a girl who was on the verge of becoming a delightful sortof woman. 

Lying upon his back in bed, rendered, it may be, a trifle susceptible bythe weakness of slow convalescence, he found a certain habit growingupon him--a habit of reading her letters several times, and of thinkingof her as it had not been his nature to think of women; also he slowlyawakened to an interest in the arrival of the English mails. The lettersactually raised his spirits and had an excellent physical effect. Hisdoctor always found him in good condition after he had heard from hiswife. 

"Your letters, my dear Emily, " Walderhurst once wrote, "are a greatpleasure to me. You are to-day exactly as you were at Mallowe, --thecreature of amiable good cheer. Your comfort stimulates me. "

"How _dear_, how _dear_?" Emily cried to the silence of the study, andkissed the letter with impassioned happiness. 

[Illustration: Lady Maria Bayne]

The next epistle went even farther. It absolutely contained "things" andreferred to the past which it was her joy to pour libations before insecret thought. When her eye caught the phrase "the days at Mallowe" inthe middle of a sheet, she was almost frightened at the rush of pleasurewhich swept over her. Men who were less aloof from sentimental moodsused such phrases in letters, she had read and heard. It was almost asif he had said "the dear old days at Mallowe" or "the happy days atMallowe, " and the rapture of it was as much as she could bear. 

"I cannot help remembering as I lie here, " she read in actual letters asshe went on, "of the many thoughts which passed through my mind as Idrove over the heath to pick you up. I had been watching you for days. Ialways liked particularly your clear, large eyes. I recall trying todescribe them to myself and finding it difficult. They seemed to me thento resemble something between the eyes of a very nice boy and the eyesof a delightful sheep-dog. This may not appear so romantic a comparisonas it really is. "

Emily began most softly and sweetly to cry. Nothing more romantic couldshe possibly have imagined. 

"I thought of them in spite of myself as I drove across the moor, and Icould scarcely express to you how angry I was at Maria. It seemed to methat she had brutally imposed on you only because she had known shemight impose on a woman with such a pair of eyes. I was angry andsentimental at one and the same time. And to find you sitting by thewayside, absolutely worn out with fatigue and in tears, moved me reallymore than I had anticipated being moved. And when you mistook my meaningand stood up, your nice eyes looking into mine in such ingenuous appealand fear and trouble, I have never forgotten it, my dear, and I nevershall. "

His mood of sentiment did not sit easily upon him, but it meant a realand interesting quite human thing. 

Emily sat alone in the room and brooded over it as a mother might broodover a new-born child. She was full of tremulous bliss, and, dwellingwith reverent awe upon the wonder of great things drawing nearer to herevery hour, wept for happiness as she sat. 

 * * * * *

The same afternoon Lady Maria Bayne arrived. She had been abroad taking, in no dull fashion, various "cures, " which involved drinking mineralwaters while promenading to the sounds of strains of outdoor music, andcomparing symptoms wittily with friends equal to amazing repartee inconnection with all subjects. 

Dr. Warren was an old acquaintance, and as he was on the point ofleaving the house as she entered it she stopped to shake hands with him. 

"It's rather unfortunate for a man when one can only be glad to see himin the house of an enemy. "

She greeted him with, "I must know what you are doing here. It's notpossible that Lady Walderhurst is fretting herself into fiddle-stringsbecause her husband chooses to have a fever in India. "

"No, she is behaving beautifully in all respects. May I have a fewminutes' talk with you, Lady Maria, before you see her?"

"A few minutes' talk with me means something either amusing orportentous. Let us walk into the morning-room. "

She led the way with a rustle or silk petticoats and a suggestion oflifted eyebrows. She was inclined to think that the thing sounded moreportentous than amusing. Thank Heaven! it was not possible for Emily tohave involved herself in annoying muddles. She was not that kind ofwoman. 

When she came out of the room some twenty minutes later she did not lookquite like herself. Her smart bonnet set less well upon her delicatelittle old face, and she was agitated and cross and pleased. 

"It was ridiculous of Walderhurst to leave her, " she was saying. "It wasridiculous of her not to order him home at once. It was exactly likeher, --dear and ridiculous. "

In spite of her agitation she felt a little grotesque as she wentupstairs to see Emily, --grotesque, because she was obliged to admit toherself that she had never felt so curiously excited in her life. Shefelt as she supposed women did when they allowed themselves to shedtears through excitement; not that she was shedding tears, but she was"upset, " that was what she called it. 

As the door opened Emily rose from a chair near the fire and came slowlytowards her, with an awkward but lovely smile. 

Lady Maria made a quick movement forward and caught hold of both herhands. 

"My good Emily, " she broke forth and kissed her. "My excellent Emily, "and kissed her again. "I am completely turned upside down. I never heardsuch an insane story in my life. I have seen Dr. Warren. The creatureswere mad. "

"It is all over, " said Emily. "I scarcely believe it was true now. "

Lady Maria being led to a sofa settled herself upon it, still wearingher complex expression of crossness, agitation, and pleasure. 

"I am going to stay here, " she said, obstinately. "There shall be nomore folly. But I will tell you that they have gone back to India. Thechild was a girl. "

"It was a girl?"

"Yes, absurdly enough. "

"Oh, " sighed Emily, sorrowfully. "I'm _sure_ Hester was _afraid_ towrite to me. "

"Rubbish!" said Lady Maria. "At any rate, as I remarked before, I amgoing to stay here until Walderhurst comes back. The man will be quitemad with gratified vanity. "

Chapter Twenty three

It was a damp and depressing day on which Lord Walderhurst arrived inLondon. As his carriage turned into Berkeley Square he sat in the cornerof it rather huddled in his travelling-wraps and looking pale and thin. He was wishing that London had chosen to show a more exhilaratingcountenance to him, but he himself was conscious of being possessed bysomething more nearly approaching a mood of eagerness than he rememberedexperiencing at any period of his previous existence. He had found thevoyage home long, and had been restless. He wanted to see his wife. Howagreeable it would be to meet, when he looked across the dinner-table, the smile in her happy eyes. She would grow pink with pleasure, like agirl, when he confessed that he had missed her. He was curious to see inher the changes he had felt in her letters. Having time andopportunities for development, she might become an absolutely delightfulcompanion. She had looked very handsome on the day of her presentationat Court. Her height and carriage had made her even impressive. She wasa woman, after all, to be counted on in one's plans. 

But he was most conscious that his affection for her had warmed. Aslight embarrassment was commingled with the knowledge, but that was thenatural result of his dislike to the sentimental. He had never felt ashadow of sentiment for Audrey, who had been an extremely light, dry, empty-headed person, and he had always felt she had been adroitly thrustupon him by their united families. He had not liked her, and she had notliked him. It had been very stupidly trying. And the child had not livedan hour. He had liked Emily from the first, and now--It was an absolutetruth that he felt a slight movement in the cardiac region when thecarriage turned into Berkeley Square. The house would look very pleasantwhen he entered it. Emily would in some subtle way have arranged that itshould wear a festal, greeting air. She had a number of nice, littlefeminine emotions about bright fires and many flowers. He could pictureher childlike grown-up face as it would look when he stepped into theroom where they met. 

Some one was ill in Berkeley Square, evidently very ill. Straw was laidthick all along one side of it, depressing damp, fresh straw, over whichthe carriage rolled with a dull drag of the wheels. 

It lay before the door of his own house, he observed, as he stepped out. It was very thickly scattered. The door swung open as the carriagestopped. Crossing the threshold, he glanced at the face of the footmannearest to him. The man looked like a mute at a funeral, and theexpression was so little in accord with his mood that he stopped with afeeling of irritation. He had not time to speak, however, before a newsensation arrested his attention, --a faint odour which filled the place. 

"The house smells like a hospital, " he exclaimed, in great annoyance. "What does it mean?"

The man he addressed did not answer. He turned a perturbed awkward faceto his superior in rank, an older man, who was house steward. 

In the house of mortal pain or death there is but one thing more full ofsuggestion than the faint smell of antiseptics, --the gruesome, cleanly, unpleasant odour, --that is, the unnatural sound of the whispering ofhushed voices. Lord Walderhurst turned cold, and felt it necessary tostiffen his spine when he heard his servant's answer and the tone inwhich it was made. 

"Her ladyship, my lord--her ladyship is very low. The doctors do notleave her. "

"Her ladyship?"

The man stepped back deferentially. The door of the morning-room hadbeen opened, and old Lady Maria Bayne stood on the threshold. Herworldly air of elderly gaiety had disappeared. She looked a hundred. Shewas almost dilapidated. She had allowed to relax themselves the springswhich held her together and ordinarily supplied her with sprightlymovement. 

"Come here!" she said. 

When he entered the room, aghast, she shut the door. 

"I suppose I ought to break it to you gently, " she said shakily, "but Ishall do no such thing. It's too much to expect of any woman who hasgone through what I have during these last three days. The creature isdying; she may be dead now. "

She sank on the sofa and began to wipe away pouring tears. Her oldcheeks were pale and her handkerchief showed touches of rose-pink on itsdampness. She was aware of their presence, but was utterly indifferent. Walderhurst stared at her haggard disorder and cleared his throat, finding himself unable to speak without doing so. 

"Will you have the goodness to tell me, " he said with weird stiffness, "what you are talking about?"

"About Emily Walderhurst, " she answered. "The boy was born yesterday, and she has been sinking ever since. She cannot possibly last muchlonger. "

"She!" he gasped, turning lead colour. "Cannot possibly last, --Emily?"

The wrench and shock were so unnatural that they reached that part ofhis being where human feeling was buried under selfishness and inhumanconventionality. He spoke, and actually thought, of Emily first. 

Lady Maria continued to weep shamelessly. 

"I am over seventy, " she said, "and the last three days have punished mequite enough for anything I may have done since I was born. I have beenin hell, too, James. And, when she could think at all, she has onlythought of you and your miserable child. I can't imagine what is thematter with a woman when she can care for a man to such an extent. Nowshe has what she wants, --she's dying for you. "

"Why wasn't I told?" he asked, still with the weird and slow stiffness. 

"Because she was a sentimental fool, and was afraid of disturbing you. She ought to have ordered you home and kept you dancing attendance, andtreated you to hysterics. "

No one would have resented such a course of action more derisively thanLady Maria herself, but the last three days had reduced her to somethinglike hysteria, and she had entirely lost her head. 

"She has been writing cheerfully to me--"

"She would have written cheerfully to you if she had been seated in acauldron of boiling oil, it is my impression, " broke in her ladyship. "She has been monstrously treated, people trying to murder her, and sheafraid to accuse them for fear that you would disapprove. You know youhave a nasty manner, James, when you think your dignity is interferedwith. "

Lord Walderhurst stood clenching and unclenching his hands as they hungby his sides. He did not like to believe that his fever had touched hisbrain, but he doubted his senses hideously. 

"My good Maria, " he said, "I do not understand a word you say, but Imust go and see her. "

"And kill her, if she has a breath left! You will not stir from here. Thank Heaven! here is Dr. Warren. "

The door had opened and Dr. Warren came in. He had just laid down uponthe coverlet of a bed upstairs what seemed to be the hand of a dyingwoman, and no man like himself can do such a thing and enter a roomwithout a singular look on his face. 

People in a house of death inevitably whisper, whatsoever theirremoteness from the sick-room. Lady Maria cried out in a whisper:

"Is she still alive?"

"Yes, " was the response. 

Walderhurst went to him. 

"May I see her?"

"No, Lord Walderhurst. Not yet. "

"Does that mean that it is not yet the last moment?"

"If that moment had obviously arrived, you would be called. "

"What must I do?"

"There is absolutely nothing to be done but to wait. Brent, Forsythe, and Blount are with her. "

"I am in the position of knowing nothing. I must be told. Have you timeto tell me?"

They went to Walderhurst's study, the room which had been Emily's holyof holies. 

"Lady Walderhurst was very fond of sitting here alone, " Dr. Warrenremarked. 

Walderhurst saw that she must have written letters at his desk. Her ownpen and writing-tablet lay on it. She had probably had a fancy forwriting her letters to himself in his own chair. It would be like her tohave done it. It gave him a shock to see on a small table a thimble anda pair of scissors. 

"I ought to have been told, " he said to Dr. Warren. 

Dr. Warren sat down and explained why he had not been told. 

As he spoke, interest was awakened in his mind by the fact that LordWalderhurst drew towards him the feminine writing-tablet and opened andshut it mechanically. 

"What I want to know, " he said, "is, if I shall be able to speak to her. I should like to speak to her. "

"That is what one most wants, " was Dr. Warren's non-committal answer, "at such a time. "

"You think I may not be able to make her understand?"

"I am very sorry. It is impossible to know. "

"This, " slowly, "is very hard on me. "

"There is something I feel I must tell you, Lord Walderhurst. " Dr. Warren kept a keen eye on him, having, in fact, felt far from attractedby the man in the past, and wondering how much he would be moved bycertain truths, or if he would be moved at all. "Before LadyWalderhurst's illness, she was very explicit with me in her expressionof her one desire. She begged me to give her my word, which I could nothave done without your permission, that whatsoever the circumstances, iflife must be sacrificed, it should be hers. "

A dusky red shot through Walderhurst's leaden pallor. 

"She asked you that?" he said. 

"Yes. And at the worst she did not forget. When she became delirious, and we heard that she was praying, I gathered that she seemed to bepraying to me, as to a deity whom she implored to remember her ferventpleading. When her brain was clear she was wonderful. She saved your sonby supernatural endurance. "

"You mean to say that if she had cared more for herself and less for thesafety of the child she need not have been as she is now?"

Warren bent his head. 

Lord Walderhurst's eyeglass had been dangling weakly from its cord. Hepicked it up and stuck it in his eye to stare the doctor in the face. The action was a singular, spasmodic, hard one. But his hands wereshaking. 

"By God!" he cried out, "if I had been here it should not have been so!"

He got up and supported himself against the table with the shakinghands. 

"It is very plain, " he said, "that she has been willing to be torn topieces upon the rack to give me the thing I wanted. And now, good God inheaven, I feel that I would have strangled the boy with my own handsrather than lose her. "

In this manner, it seemed, did a rigid, self-encased, and conventionalelderly nobleman reach emotion. He looked uncanny. His stiff dignityhung about him in rags and tatters. Cold sweat stood on his forehead andhis chin twitched. 

"Just now, " he poured forth, "I don't care whether there is a child ornot. I want her--I care for nothing else. I want to look at her, I wantto speak to her, whether she is alive or dead. But if there is a sparkof life in her, I believe she will hear me. "

Dr. Warren sat and watched him, wondering. He knew curious things of thehuman creature, things which most of his confrères did not know. He knewthat Life was a mysterious thing, and that even a dying flame of itmight sometimes be fanned to flickering anew by powers more subtle thanscience usually regards as applicable influences. He knew the nature ofthe half-dead woman lying on her bed upstairs, and he comprehended whatthe soul of her life had been, --her divinely innocent passion for aself-centred man. He had seen it in the tortured courage of her eyes inhours of mortal agony. 

"Don't forget, " she had said. "Our Father which art in Heaven. Don't letanyone forget. Hallowed be thy name. "

The man, leaning upon his shaking hands before him, stood there, forthese moments at least, a harrowed thing. Not a single individual of hisacquaintance would have known him. 

"I want to see her before the breath leaves her, " he gave forth in aharsh, broken whisper. "I want to speak. Let me see her. "

Dr. Warren left his chair slowly. Out of a thousand chances against her, might this one chance be for her, --the chance of her hearing, and beingcalled back to the shores she was drifting from, by this stiff, conventional fellow's voice. There was no knowing the wondrousness of aloving human thing, even when its shackles were loosening themselves toset it free. 

"I will speak to those in charge with me, " he said. "Will you controlevery outward expression of feeling?"

"Yes. "

Adjoining Lady Walderhurst's sleeping apartment was a small boudoirwhere the medical men consulted together. Two of them were standing nearthe window conversing in whispers. 

Walderhurst merely nodded and went to wait apart by the fire. Ceremonyhad ceased to exist. Dr. Warren joined the pair at the window. LordWalderhurst only heard one or two sentences. 

"I am afraid that nothing, now, can matter--at any moment. "

 * * * * *

Those who do not know from experience what he saw when he entered thenext room have reason to give thanks to such powers as they put trustin. 

There ruled in the large, dim chamber an awful order and silence. Thefaint flickering of the fire was a marked sound. There was no other buta fainter and even more irregular one heard as one neared the bed. Sometimes it seemed to stop, then, with a weak gasp, begin again. Anurse in uniform stood in waiting; an elderly man sat on a chair at thebedside, listening and looking at his watch, something white andlifeless lying in his grasp, --Emily Walderhurst's waxen, unmoving hand. The odour of antiseptics filled the nostrils. Lord Walderhurst drewnear. The speaking sign of the moment was that neither nurse nor doctorstirred. 

Emily lay low upon a pillow. Her face was as bloodless as wax and was alittle turned aside. The Shadow was hovering over it and touched herclosed lids and the droop of her cheek and corners of her mouth. She wasfar, far away. 

This was what Walderhurst felt first, --the strange remoteness, thelonely stillness of her. She had gone alone far from the place he stoodin, and which they two familiarly knew. She was going, alone, fartherstill. As he stood and watched her closed eyes, --the nice, easilypleased eyes, --it was they themselves, closed on him and all prosaicthings and pleasures, which filled him most strangely with that sense ofher loneliness, weirdly enough, _hers_, not his. He was not thinking ofhimself but of her. He wanted to withdraw her from her loneliness, tobring her back. 

He knelt down carefully, making no sound, stealthily, not removing hiseyes from her strange, aloof face. He slowly dared to close his hand onhers which lay outside the coverlet. And it was a little chill anddamp, --a little chill. 

A power, a force which hides itself in human things and which most ofthem know not of, was gathering within him. He was warm and alive, aliving man; his hand as it closed on the chill of hers was warm; hisnewly awakened being sent heat to it. 

He whispered her name close to her ear. 

"Emily!" slowly, "Emily!"

She was very far away and lay unmoving. Her breast scarcely stirred withthe faintness of her breath. 

"Emily! Emily!"

The doctor slightly raised his eyes to glance at him. He was used todeath-bed scenes, but this was curious, because he knew the usualoutward aspect of Lord Walderhurst, and its alteration at this momentsuggested abnormal things. He had not the flexibility of mind whichrevealed to Dr. Warren that there were perhaps abnormal moments for themost normal and inelastic personages. 

"Emily!" said his lordship, "Emily!"

He did not cease from saying it, in a low yet reaching whisper, atregular intervals, for at least half an hour. He did not move from hisknees, and so intense was his absorption that the presence of those whocame near was as nothing. 

What he hoped or intended to do he did not explain to himself. He was ofthe order of man who coldly waves aside all wanderings on the subjectsof occult claims. He believed in proven facts, in professional aid, inthe abolition of absurdities. But his whole narrow being concentrateditself on one thing, --he wanted this woman back. He wanted to speak toher. 

What power he unknowingly drew from the depths of him, what exquisiteanswering thing he reached at, could not be said. Perhaps it was onlysome remote and subtle turn of the tide of life and death which chancedto come to his aid. 

"Emily!" he said again, after many times. 

Dr. Warren at this moment met the lifted eyes of the doctor who wascounting her pulse, and in response to his look went to him. 

"It seems slightly stronger, " Dr. Forsythe whispered. 

The slow, faint breathing changed a shade; there was heard a breathslightly, very slightly deeper, less flickering, then another. 

Lady Walderhurst slightly stirred. 

"Remain where you are, " whispered Dr. Warren to her husband, "andcontinue to speak to her. Do not alter your tone. Go on. "

 * * * * *

Emily Walderhurst, drifting out on a still, borderless, white sea, sinking gently as she floated, sinking in peaceful painlessness deeperand deeper in her drifting until the soft, cool water lapped her lipsand, as she knew without fear, would soon cover them and her quiet face, hiding them for ever, --heard from far, very far away, across thewhiteness floating about her, a faint sound which at first only fellupon the stillness without meaning. Everything but the silence had beenleft behind aeons ago. Nothing remained but the soundless white sea andthe slow drifting and sinking as one swayed. It was more than sleep, this still peace, because there was no thought of waking to any shore. 

But the far-off sound repeated itself again, again, again and again, monotonously. Something was calling to Something. She was so given up tothe soft drifting that she had no thoughts to give, and gave none. Indrifting so, one did not think--thought was left in the far-off placethe white sea carried one from. She sank quietly a little deeper and thewater touched her lip. But Something was calling to Something, somethingwas calling something to come back. The call was low, low and strange, so regular and so unbroken and insistent, that it arrested, she knew notwhat. Did it arrest the floating and the swaying in the enfolding sea?Was the drifting slower? She could not rouse herself to think, shewanted to go on. Did she no longer feel the water lapping against herlip? Something was calling to Something still. Once, aeons ago, beforethe white sea had borne her away, she would have understood. 

"Emily, Emily, Emily!"

Yes, once she would have known what the sound meant. Once it had meantsomething, a long time ago. It had even now disturbed the water, andmade it cease to lap so near her lip. 

 * * * * *

It was at this moment that one doctor had raised his eyes to the other, and Lady Walderhurst had stirred. 

When Walderhurst left his place beside his wife's bed, Dr. Warren wentwith him to his room. He made him drink brandy and called his man tohim. "You must remember, " he said, "that you are an invalid yourself. "

"I believe, " was the sole answer, given with an abstracted knitting ofthe brows, --"I believe that in some mysterious way I have made her hearme. "

Dr. Warren looked grave. He was a deeply interested man. He felt that hehad been looking on at an almost incomprehensible thing. 

"Yes, " was his reply. "I believe that you have. "

About an hour later Lord Walderhurst made his way downstairs to the roomin which Lady Maria Bayne sat. She still looked a hundred years old, buther maid had redressed her toupee, and given her a handkerchief neitherdamp nor tinted with rubbed-off rouge. She looked at her relative ashade more leniently, but still addressed him with something of themanner of a person undeservedly chained to a malefactor. Her irritationwas not modified by the circumstance that it was extremely difficult tobe definite in the expression of her condemnation of things which hadmade her hideously uncomfortable. Having quite approved of his going toIndia in the first place, it was not easy to go thoroughly into thesubject of the numerous reasons why a man of his years andresponsibilities ought to have realised that it was his duty to remainat home and take care of his wife. 

"Incredible as it seems, " she snapped, "the doctors _think_ there is aslight change, for the better. "

"Yes, " Walderhurst answered. 

He leaned against the mantel and gazed into the fire. 

"She will come back, " he added in a monotone. 

Lady Maria stared at him. She felt that the man was eerie, Walderhurst, of all men on earth!

"Where do you think she has been?" She professed to make the inquirywith an air of reproof. 

"How should one know?" rather with the old stiffness. "It is impossibleto tell. "

Lady Maria Bayne was not the person possessing the temperament toincline him to explain that, wheresoever the outer sphere might be towhich the dying woman had been drifting, he had been following her, asfar as living man could go. 

The elderly house steward opened the door and spoke in the hollowwhisper. 

"The head nurse wished to know if your ladyship would be so good as tosee Lord Oswyth before he goes to sleep. "

Walderhurst turned his head towards the man. Lord Oswyth was the name ofhis son. He felt a shock. 

"I will come to the nursery, " answered Lady Maria. "You have not seenhim yet?" turning to Walderhurst. 

"How could I?"

"Then you had better come now. If she becomes conscious and has lifeenough to expect anything, she will expect you to burst forth intopraises of him. You had better at least commit to memory the colour ofhis eyes and hair. I believe he has two hairs. He is a huge, fat, overgrown thing with enormous cheeks. When I saw his bloatedself-indulgent look yesterday, I confess I wanted to slap him. "

Her description was not wholly accurate, but he was a large and robustchild, as Walderhurst saw when he beheld him. 

From kneeling at the pillow on which the bloodless statue lay, andcalling into space to the soul which would not hear, it was a far cry tothe warmed and lighted orris-perfumed room in which Life had begun. 

There was the bright fire before which the high brass nursery fendershone. There was soft linen hanging to be warmed, there was a lace-hungcradle swinging in its place, and in a lace-draped basket silver andgold boxes and velvet brushes and sponges such as he knew nothing about. He had not been in such a place before, and felt awkward, and yet insecret abnormally moved, or it seemed abnormally to him. 

Two women were in attendance. One of them held in her arms what he hadcome to see. It was moving slightly in its coverings of white. Itsbearer stood waiting in respectful awe as Lady Maria uncovered its face. 

"Look at it, " she said, concealing her relieved elation under a slightlycaustic manner. "How you will relish the situation when Emily tells youthat he is like you, I can't be as sure as I should be of myself underthe same circumstances. "

Walderhurst applied his monocle and gazed for some moments at the objectbefore him. He had not known that men experienced these curiouslyunexplainable emotions at such times. He kept a strong hold on himself. 

"Would you like to hold him?" inquired Lady Maria. She was conscious ofa benevolent effort to restrain the irony in her voice. 

Lord Walderhurst made a slight movement backward. 

"I--I should not know how, " he said, and then felt angry at himself. Hedesired to take the thing in his arms. He desired to feel its warmth. Heabsolutely realised that if he had been alone with it, he should havelaid aside his eyeglass and touched its cheek with his lips. 

Two days afterwards he was sitting by his wife's pillow, watching hershut lids, when he saw them quiver and slowly move until they were wideopen. Her eyes looked very large in her colourless, more sharplychiselled face. They saw him and him only, as light came gradually intothem. They did not move, but rested on him. He bent forward, almostafraid to stir. 

He spoke to her as he had spoken before. 

"Emily!" very low, "Emily!"

Her voice was only a fluttering breath, but she answered. 

"It--was--you!" she said. 

Chapter Twenty four

Such individuals as had not already thought it expedient to graduallyloosen and drop the links of their acquaintance with Captain Alec Osborndid not find, on his return to his duties in India, that the leave ofabsence spent in England among his relatives had improved him. He wasplainly consuming enormous quantities of brandy, and was steadily going, physically and mentally, to seed. He had put on flesh, and even hisalways dubious good looks were rapidly deserting him. The heavy youngjowl looked less young and more pronounced, and he bore about an evilcountenance. 

"Disappointment may have played the devil with him, " it was said by anelderly observer; "but he has played the devil with himself. He was awrong'un to begin with. "

When Hester's people flocked to see her and hear her stories of exaltedlife in England, they greeted her with exclamations of dismay. If Osbornhad lost his looks, she also had lost hers. She was yellow and haggard, and her eyes looked over-grown. She had not improved in the matter oftemper, and answered all effusive questions with a dry, bitter littlesmile. The baby she had brought back was a puny, ugly, and tiny girl. Hester's dry, little smile when she exhibited her to her relations wasnot pretty. 

"She saved herself disappointment by being a girl, " she remarked. "Atall events, she knows from the outset that no one can rob her of thechance of being the Marquis of Walderhurst. "

It was rumoured that ugly things went on in the Osborn bungalow. It wasknown that scenes occurred between the husband and wife which were notof the order admitted as among the methods of polite society. Oneevening Mrs. Osborn walked slowly down the Mall dressed in her best gownand hat, and bearing on her cheek a broad, purpling mark. When askedquestions, she merely smiled and made no answer, which was extremelyawkward for the well-meaning inquirer. 

The questioner was the wife of the colonel of the regiment, and when thelady related the incident to her husband in the evening, he drew in hisbreath sharply and summed the situation up in a few words. 

"That little woman, " he said, "lives every day through twenty-four hoursof hell. One can see it in her eyes, even when she professes to smile atthe brute for decency's sake. The awfulness of a woman's forced smile atthe devil she is tied to, loathing him and bearing in her soul thething, blood itself could not wipe out. Ugh! I've seen it once before, and I recognised it in her again. There will be a bad end to this. "

There probably would have been, with the aid of unlimited brandy andunrestrained devil, some outbreak so gross that the social laws whichrule men who are "officers and gentlemen" could not have ignored oroverlooked it. But the end came in an unexpected way, and Osborn wassaved from open ignominy by an accident. 

On a certain day when he had drunk heavily and had shut Hester up withhim for an hour's torture, after leaving her writhing and suffocatingwith sobs, he went to examine some newly bought firearms. In twentyminutes it was he who lay upon the floor writhing and suffocating, andbut a few minutes later he was a dead man. A charge from a gun he hadbelieved unloaded had finished him. 

 * * * * *

Lady Walderhurst was the kindest of women, as the world knew. She sentfor little Mrs. Osborn and her child, and was tender goodness itself tothem. 

Hester had been in England four years, and Lord Oswyth had a brother asrobust as himself, when one heavenly summer afternoon, as the two womensat on the lawn drinking little cups of tea, Hester made a singularrevelation, and made it without moving a muscle of her smallcountenance. 

"I always intended to tell you, Emily, " she began quietly, "and I willtell you now. "

"What, dear?" said Emily, holding out to her a plate of tiny butteredscones. "Have some of these nice, little hot ones. "

"Thank you. " Hester took one of the nice, little hot ones, but did notbegin to eat it. Instead, she held it untouched and let her eyes rest onthe brilliant flower terraces spread out below. "What I meant to tellyou was this. The gun was not loaded, the gun Alec shot himself with, when he laid it aside. "

Emily put down her tea-cup hastily. 

"I saw him take out the charge myself two hours before. When he came in, mad with drink, and made me go into the room with him, Ameerah saw him. She always listened outside. Before we left The Kennel Farm, the day hetortured and taunted me until I lost my head and shrieked out to himthat I had told you what I knew, and had helped you to go away, hestruck me again and again. Ameerah heard that. He did it several timesafterwards, and she always knew. She always intended to end it in someway. She knew how drunk he was that last day, and--It was she who wentin and loaded the gun while he was having his scene with me. She knew hewould go and begin to pull the things about without having the sense toknow what he was doing. She had seen him do it before. I know it was shewho put the load in. We have never uttered a word to each other aboutit, but I know she did it, and that she knows I know. Before I marriedAlec, I did not understand how one human being could kill another. Hetaught me to understand, quite. But I had not the courage to do itmyself. Ameerah had. "

And while Lady Walderhurst sat gazing at her with a paling face, shebegan quietly to eat the little buttered scone. 

THE END

[** Transcriber changes:

Original page 90 (Part One, Chapter 4): The whole treat, juvenile andadult, male and female, burst into three cheers which were roars andbellows[missing. Inserted]

Original page 37 (Part One, Chapter 2): "I wish I had suchclothes, [missing " inserted] answered Lady Maria, and she chuckledagain. 

Original page 150 (Part Two, Chapter 7): Realising this, he did notquite understand why he rather liked it in the case of Emily Fox-Seton, though he only liked it remotely and felt his his[second "his" has beenomitted] own inaptness a shade absurd. 

Original page 277 (Part Two, Chapter 14): "I know what her ladyshipfeels about being talked over. If I was a lady myself, I shouldn't likeit. And I know how deep you'll feel it, that when the doctor advised herto get an experienced married person to be at hand, she said in thatdear way of hers, 'Jane, if your uncle could spare your mother, how Ishould like to have her. '[extraneous ' omitted] I've never forgot herkindness in Mortimer Street. '"

Original page 312 (Part Two, Chapter 17): "My lady! my lady!" she gaspedout as soon as she dare[missing "d" inserted]. 

Original page 320 (Part Two, Chapter 17): "They may be as innocent as Iam. And they may be murderers in their hearts. I can prove nothing, Ican prevent nothing. "[extraneous " omitted]Oh! _do_ come home. "

Original page 432: Human nature at its best and worst is wellprotrayed[changed to "portrayed"]. **]

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JOHN MARCH, SOUTHERNER. By George W. Cable. 

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MR. JUSTICE RAFFLES. By E. W. Hornung. 

This engaging rascal is found helping a young cricket player out of thetoils of a money shark. Novel in plot, thrilling and amusing. 

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THE HUSBAND'S STORY. By David Graham Phillips. 

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THE TRAIL OF NINETY-EIGHT. By Robert W. Service. Illustrated by MaynardDixon. 

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A big, vital treatment of a present day situation wherein men play forbig financial stakes and women flourish on the profits--or repudiate themethods. 

CHEERFUL AMERICANS. By Charles Battell Loomis. Illustrated by FlorenceScovel Shinn and others. 

A good, wholesome, laughable presentation of some Americans at home andabroad, on their vacations, and during their hours of relaxation. 

THE WOMAN OF THE WORLD. By Ella Wheeler Wilcox. 

Clever, original presentations of present day social problems and thebest solutions of them. A book every girl and woman should possess. 

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Founded on a fact well known among artists, but not often recognized ordiscussed. 

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THE LONESOME TRAIL

"Weary" Davidson leaves the ranch for Portland, where conventional citylife palls on him. A little branch of sage brush, pungent with theatmosphere of the prairie, and the recollection of a pair of large browneyes soon compel his return. A wholesome love story. 

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GRAUSTARK. 

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BEVERLY OF GRAUSTARK. 

Beverly is a bewitching American girl who has gone to that stirringlittle principality--Graustark--to visit her friend the princess, andthere has a romantic affair of her own. 

BREWSTER'S MILLIONS. 

A young man is required to spend one million dollars in one year inorder to inherit seven. How he does it forms the basis of a livelystory. 

CASTLE CRANEYCROW. 

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COWARDICE COURT. 

An amusing social feud in the Adirondacks in which an English girl istempted into being a traitor by a romantic young American, forms theplot. 

THE DAUGHTER OF ANDERSON CROW. 

The story centers about the adopted daughter of the town marshal in awestern village. Her parentage is shrouded in mystery, and the storyconcerns the secret that deviously works to the surface. 

THE MAN FROM BRODNEY'S. 

The hero meets a princess in a far-away island among fanatically hostileMusselmen. Romantic love making amid amusing situations and excitingadventures. 

NEDRA. 

A young couple elope from Chicago to go to London traveling as brotherand sister. They are shipwrecked and a strange mix-up occurs on accountof it. 

THE SHERRODS. 

The scene is the Middle West and centers around a man who leads a doublelife. A most enthralling novel. 

TRUXTON KING. 

A handsome good natured young fellow ranges on the earth looking forromantic adventures and is finally enmeshed in most complicatedintrigues in Graustark. 

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Grosset & Dunlap, 526 West 26th St. , New York

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LOUIS TRACY'S CAPTIVATING AND EXHILARATING ROMANCES

May be had wherever books are sold. Ask for Grosset & Dunlap's list

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CYNTHIA'S CHAUFFEUR. Illustrated by Howard Chandler Christy. 

A pretty American girl in London is touring in a car with a chauffeurwhose identity puzzles her. An amusing mystery. 

THE STOWAWAY GIRL. Illustrated by Nesbitt Benson. 

A shipwreck, a lovely girl stowaway, a rascally captain, a fascinatingofficer, and thrilling adventures in South Seas. 

THE CAPTAIN OF THE KANSAS. 

Love and the salt sea, a helpless ship whirled into the hands ofcannibals, desperate fighting and a tender romance. 

THE MESSAGE. Illustrated by Joseph Cummings Chase. 

A bit of parchment found in the figurehead of an old vessel tells of aburied treasure. A thrilling mystery develops. 

THE PILLAR OF LIGHT. 

The pillar thus designated was a lighthouse, and the author tells withexciting detail the terrible dilemma of its cut-off inhabitants. 

THE WHEEL O'FORTUNE. With illustrations by James Montgomery Flagg. 

The story deals with the finding of a papyrus containing the particularsof some of the treasures of the Queen of Sheba. 

A SON OF THE IMMORTALS. Illustrated by Howard Chandler Christy. 

A young American is proclaimed king of a little Balkan Kingdom, and apretty Parisian art student is the power behind the throne. 

THE WINGS OF THE MORNING. 

A sort of Robinson Crusoe _redivivus_ with modern settings and a verypretty love story added. The hero and heroine are the only survivors ofa wreck, and have many thrilling adventures on their desert island. 

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Ask for complete free list of G. & D. Popular Copyrighted Fiction

Grosset & Dunlap, 526 West 26th St. , New York

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