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LINDSAYS LUCK
by
FRANCES HODGSON BURNETT
AUTHOR OF  HAWORTH'S,  THAT LASS o' LOWRIE'S,  KATHLEEN,
 I'RETTY POLLY PEMBERTON, ETC. ETC.
LONDON:
GEORGE ROUTLEDGE AND SONS
Broadway, Ludgate Hill
1879
BY THE SAME AUTHOR.
DOLLY.
PRETTY POLLY PEMBERTON.
KATHLEEN.
OUR NEIGHBOUR OPPOSITE.
MISS CRESPIGNY.
THAT LASS O' LOWRIE'S.
CONTENTS.
CHAPTER I.
1>AGE
Lady Laura 5
CHAPTER II.
Rob Lindsay . ....... 18
CHAPTER III.
A glove 28
CHAPTER IV.
"I think I have seen that glove before . 41
CHAPTER V.
With the odds against him 52
CHAPTER VI.
The Treherne diamond 66
4
Contents.
CHAPTER VII.
1*AG£
A difficult position 73
CHAPTER VIII.
Brought to bay 83
CHAPTER IX.
For the time being 94
CHAPTER X.
I don't know ioi
CHAPTER XI.
i wrote it—three days ago. . . . .. iio
CHAPTER XII.
And Laura held out her hand . . . .121
LINDSAY'S LUCK.
CHAPTER I.
LADY LAURA.
ADY LAURA TRESHAM had just come
down stairs from her chamber to the break-
fast-parlor. I mention this, because at the Priory
everything that the Lady Laura did became a mat-
ter of interest. And why not ? She was a visitor,
she was a charming girl, she was Blanche Charn-
ley's special friend and confidante, she was Mrs.
Charnley's prime favorite ; the Rector himself was
fond of her ; and all the most influential young
members of the High Church at Guestwick (the
Rev. Norman Charnley's church) were in love with
her, and watched the maroon curtains of the
Charnley pew far more attentively than they
watched the antique carven pulpit, of which the
Guestwick aristocracy was so justly proud.
6 Lindsay's Luck.
I have said Laura Tresham was a charming girl,
and I repeat it, adding my grounds for the asser-
tion. Perhaps I can best do this by presenting
her to my readers just as she stands before the
large, open Gothic window of the cozy, old-
fashioned little breakfast-room, the fresh morning
sunlight falling upon her, the swallows twittering
under the ivied eaves; ivy, Gothic window, and
sunlight forming exactly the right framing and
accompaniments to Lady Laura Tresham as a
picture. She is just tall enough to be sometimes,
in a certain girlish way, a thought regal ; she is
just fair enough to be like a stately young lily ;
she has thick, soft, yellow blonde hair; she has
blue, velvet eyes, and with her long, white morn-
ing-dress, wears blue velvet trimmings just the
color of her eyes ; for it is a fancy of hers to affect
velvets because she says ribbons don't suit her.
But, in spite of this assertion, it really would be a
difficult matter to find anything which did not
suit Laura Tresham. Everything suits her, or
rather it is she who suits everything. Blanche
Charnley, who adores her, thinks there is nothing
like her beauty, and her stately high-bred ways.
All that Laura says, or does, or thinks, is in
Blanche's eyes almost perfect, and she will hear no
other view of the matter expressed. In true
girl-fashion, the two have vowed eternal friend-
Lady Laura. y
ship, and they discuss their little confidences
together with profound secrecy and the deepest
interest.
Every summer Laura comes to the Priory for a
few weeks, at least, and every winter Blanche has
spent in London for the last four years. The
Charnleys are irreproachable. The Reverend
Norman was a younger son, but fortune has
smiled upon him, nevertheless. There is no richer
living than Guestwick in England or Wales, and
certainly no more aristocratic one. The country
gentry and nobility attend the High Church and
approve of the Rector. The family drive to ser-
vice in a velvet-lined carriage, while Blanche and
Mrs. Charnley make their charity rounds in a
pony phaeton, whose ponies are miracles of value
in themselves. Accordingly, any astute reasoner
will observe at once that it is impossible for even
that most select of dragons, Lady Laura's guardian,
who is something slow and heavy in Chancery, to
object to his ward's intimacy with the Guestwick
Charnleys, as they are called.
So Lady Laura has been Blanche's companion
from her childhood, and now is more her friend
than ever. So she makes summer visits to the
Priory, and so we find her this summer morning
standing at the breakfast-room window, and listen-
ing with some interest to her host and hostess, as
8 Lindsay s Luck.
they discuss the contents of an American letter
the Reverend Norman has just received by the
morning's delivery.
 I have never seen him, the Rector was say-
ing,  but if he is at all like his father, he is a gene-
rous, brave young fellow ; perhaps a little uncon-
ventional in manner, but still a thorough-bred
gentleman in every noblest sense of the word. I
shall be glad to see him for more reasons than one,
and I hope you wiM make him feel as much at
home as possible, Alicia, and you also, Blanche,
my dear.
Lady Laura turned toward the breakfast-table.
 Who is he, Mr. Charnley ? she asked.  I
suppose I may inquire, as I am to meet him,
and I want to know. You see, Blanche and Mrs.
Charnley have the advantage over me in know-
ing the whole story. What did you say his name
was ?
 Robert Lindsay, read Blanche aloud, glanc-
ing at the signature of the open epistle, 'Yours,
sincerely.'  Papa, let Laura see this letter. It
is so odd, and yet so—so manly, I should call
it.
"Certainly, the letter is quite at Laura's dis-
posal, answered the Rector, with a smile.  Read
it, my dear. I admire ifs tone as rnugh as Blanche
gloes.
Lady Laura. 9
Lady Laura came to the table to take the letter,
and, as she stood, glanced over it with some curi-
osity in her eyes. It was rather a singular letter,
or at least it was a letter that expressed a great
deal of character. It was frank, fearless, uncon-
strained; honest, certainly, and by no means
awkward in its tone. The writer evidently did not
lack worldly experience, and was not short of a
decent amount of self-esteem. Such men are not
common anywhere, but they are an especial rarity
among certain classes; and in this case, English
reserve and dread of appearing effusive, gave way
to American coolness and self-poise. It was
something new to Laura Tresham, and she looked
up from the closing sentence and dashing signa-
ture, ' Very sincerely, Robert Lindsay,' with a soft
little laugh.
 It is an odd letter, she said.  I don't think
I ever read anything like it before. Thank you,
Mr. Charnley.
 I am under great obligations to the young
man's father, said the Rector, as he refolded the
letter ;  and I can never hope to repay him other-
wish than by taking his place towards his son, so
long as he remains in England. I suppose we
shall see young Lindsay soon. He says his
epistle would scarcely have time to precede him
by a day.
io Lindsay's Luck.
Robert Lindsay was pretty liberally discussed,
as the breakfast progressed. . Events had prepos-
sessed Mrs. Charnley in his favor; and the honest
assurance of his letter had pleased and amused
Blanche; but Lady Laura was merely curious
about the new arrival, and had not as yet decided
whether to like him or not. She was not so prone
to sudden admiration as Blanche, and she had a
secret fancy that this simple, frank young fellow
might become a trifle tiresome through the very
frankness of his simplicity.
The day passed as days generally did with the
Charnleys. They had a pleasant way of spending
days at the Priory; so pleasant, indeed, that
people said killing time was the forte of the
family. No one ever felt the hours drag at that
establishment. Lady Laura was as fond of the
Priory as Blanche Charnley herself.  One could
be so deliciously idle there, she said, but she did
not add that, after all, the idleness did not imply
loss of time. There was more company at the
Priory than anywhere else in the shire ; and the
young eligibles who watched the big, ancient pews
on Sundays, rode over from their respective homes
so frequently, that a day rarely passed in which
there was not quite a respectable party out on the
grounds, or in the delightful old oak-paneled parlor,
playing croquet, or stringing bows and handing
Lady Laura.
ii
arrows, or talking pleasant nonsense to pretty
Blanche Charnley, and making gallant speeches
to her friend. Half a dozen of them were there
the day of the arrival of the American letter, and
among the rest came Col. Treherne, who was
blonde, long-limbed, and leonine in type. Blanche
Charnley had a quiet fancy that Laura did not
dislike Col. Treherne. Her manner to him bore
better the construction of cordiality than her
manner toward her numerous adorers usually did ;
sometimes it seemed even tinged with a certain
degree of interest, and once or twice, when she
had ridden out with her groom, she had returned
with Col. Treherne at her side, and a bright, soft
color on her fair face. But Blanche was not par-
tial to Col. Treherne. She did not like his air of
calm superiority; she did not like his regular
patrician features and fair skin ; she objected even
to his long, fair mustache, and his favorite habit
of twisting it with his white hand ; and she abso-
lutely detested the reflective coolness of the quest-
ioning glance that generally accompanied the
action, when he was annoyed or wished to repress
any approach at familiarity. But, of course, she
was very polite to Col. Treherne when he came to
the Priory. She was too thoroughbred, in spite of
her energetic likes and dislikes, to exhibit either
openly; so she merely confined herself to the few
12
Lindsay s Luck.
stray shots good breeding admitted, in the shape
of an occasional polite little sarcasm, or a quiet
move against her aversion's game.
This particular evening, as she stood with the
little party on the archery-ground, watching the
gentleman stringing her friend's pretty satin-wood
bow, and handing her arrows, she felt her dislike
even more strongly than usual. There was a spice
of romance in Blanche Charnley's gay nature, and
her love for Laura Tresham was touched with it.
She had a cherished fancy that the man who won
such a gift must be perfect of his kind. He must
be brave and generous, and whole-souled in every
chivalrous sense. He must reverence the woman
he loved beyond all else, and he must value her
love as the great gift of God to man. There were
to be no half measures in its depth, no shade of
self-worship, no touch of weakness ; he must be
ready to wait, to do, to dare for her pure sake.
He must,
'' Love one maiden only, cleave to her
And worship her by years of noble deeds,
Until he won her.
Geoffrey Treherne was not that man. His love
for Lady Laura was only a pleasant sacrifice upon
the altar of his lofty self-consciousness. He was
a well-bred individual, and, in a certain punctilious
Lady Laura. 13
fashion, scrupulously, haughtily honourable ; but
he would not have  fallen down and worshipped.
In his own way he cared for Laura Tresham. Her
fair face and proud repose of manner pleased him ;
the admiration she excited pleased him. The
woman he married must be capable of exciting
admiration. Her name was as ancient as his
own ; altogether he felt that she was worthy of
the honor he intended doing her. Naturally, it
was not all calculation. He was a man, after all,
and he loved her, and was ready to sue for her
favor, after his own fashion; but he was not
Blanche Charnley's ideal of a lover for her
friend.
So, with the consciousness of this on her mind,
Blanche Charnley felt dreadfully out of patience,
as she listened to Laura's clear, soft-toned voice,
and 'noticed that she seemed by no means dis-
pleased. Once or twice she even thought she saw
her blush faintly, at some of her companion's
speeches; and Lady Laura was not prone to
blushes, and, to Blanche's quickened senses, the
soft touch of color appeared suspicious. Suppose
she really cared for him ? And then why should
she not ? The world would call the match a suit-
able one, in every sense of the term. In the depth
of her momentary vexation, Blanche dropped the
arrow she held in her hand, and bent to pick it
14 Lindsays Luck.
up, before the gentleman who stood by her side
had time to see it.
 Dear me ! she sighed, unconsciously.  I wish
somebody respectable would come—anybody, so
that it wasn't Geoffrey Treherne.
"I ask pardon, said her escort. "I really did
not understand what you said, Miss Charnley.
She looked up and laughed.
•' Oh, excuse me !  she said.  I was thinking
aloud, I believe. How very rude! It is I who
should ask pardon. But in her anxiety she
brought some diplomacy to bear against the
enemy during the remainder of the evening. She
gave him no opportunity to improve upon any
advance he might have made, and played  third
party so effectually, that Treherne actually found
himself at a loss, in the face of his dignified self-
consciousness, and accepted the Rector's invitation
to dinner in sheer self-defence.
Half an hour after the other visitors had made
their adieus, and the two young ladies had gone to
their respective rooms, Lady Laura who was sitting
under the hands of her maid, heard a loud
summons at the hall door, and, when the summons
had been answered, the sound of voices.
She raised her head with something of curiosity.
 I did not know Mr. Charnley expected visitors,
Buxton, she said to her waiting-woman.
Lady Laura. 15
Buxton, whose hands were full of the shining,
yellow, blonde tresses, did not know that visitors
were expected, either.  Unless it might be the
American gentleman, my lady. Mrs. Charnley
said it was possible he might come earlier than
they had expected.
 Oh, yes! said Lady Laura indifferently.
 The American. I have no doubt it is. I had
forgotten.
Buxton had not completed her task, when a
little rap at the door announced Blanche Charnley,
who, being a quick dresser, had completed her
toilet early, and now entered, eager and bright, in
her pretty, fresh, dinner costume. She came and
seated herself at the toilet-table at once, looking
even more animated than was usual with her.
 Papa's visitor has arrived, Laura, she said.
 I was on my way down stairs, when he made his
appearance, and I had an excellent view of
him.
"Indeed! returned her friend. "And the
result ?
Blanche nodded her head prettily.
"An excellent one, my dear, she answered,
laughing a little.  Robert Lindsay will ' do.' He
is stalwart, he is dark, he is well-featured, he is
even handsome, and I know he is a desirable
individual. He is not the least bit like Col. Tre-
16 Lindsays Luck.
heme, Laura, meditatively.  And he carried his
own valise.
 My dear Blanche ! exclaimed Lady Laura,
raising her eyes in no slight astonishment.
Blanche laughed, and nodded again.
"Absolutely did, she said. "And the effect
was not an unpleasant one, despite its novelty.
He carried it well, and looked quite at ease, and
honestly pleased, when he held it in one hand and
gave the other to papa, who came out into the hall
to meet him. I really don't believe Geoffrey
Treherne would have looked so thoroughbred
under the circumstances.
Lady Laura did not make any reply, but the
suggestion was scarcely a pleasant one to her mind.
The idea of Col. Treherne carrying his portable
baggage in his faultlessly-gloved hand, was so
novel that it appeared almost absurd. That
gentleman's valet was the envy of all his acquaint-
ance, from the fact of his intense respectability
and desirable repose of manner, and Col. Treherne
would decidedly have disapproved of any campaign
which would not have admitted of his attendant's
presence.
Blanche was evidently prepossessed in the new
visitor's favor. She chattered about him with
good-humored gaiety, and described his appear-
ance to her listener with less of disposition to
Lady Laura.
17
satirize than she commonly displayed. The
novelty of a gentleman who carried his own valise,
had pleased her ; and the fact that the gentleman
in question was not at all like Geoffrey Treherne,
had pleased her still more.
At last Buxton had finished, and Lady Laura
rose and stood before the swinging mirror to favor
the satisfactory result with an indolent glance of
inspection.
"What a lovely creature you are, Laura, said
Blanche, with a little laugh. "That soft, pale-
blue dressing-gown makes you look like a blonde
angel. What is it Tennyson says ?
' A daughter of the gods, divinely tall
And most divinely fair.'
There must be some satisfaction in your looking at
the mirror. All Buxton's art, couldn't make my
poor little fair head look such an aureole. Mr.
Lindsay is quite dark, so I suppose he will at once
fulfil the decrees of fate, by following Col. Tre-
heme's august example.
 How absurd !  said Lady Laura, coloring
faintly, however.  Blanche, I beg
But Blanche only laughed again.
"Why should it be absurd ? she asked. "He
is a gentleman, after all, whether his father sold
bales of calico, or not. Do you know, Laura, I
C
18 Lindsay's Luck.
like these trading people. They are astute and
thoroughbred often, and I believe in Ralph's favor-
ite theory, that we poor representatives of the
' blue blood ' are falling from grace.
It is scarcely necessary to record Lady Laura's
reply. That young lady was astute also ; so she
simply smiled, with a slight touch of reserve, and
colored a little again, and then adroitly changed
the subject.
CHAPTER II.
ROB LINDSAY.
"^^TIILE her toilet was being completed, after
Blanche had gone down stairs again, she
gave the new arrival some slight mental considera-
tion, which I regret to say was not so favorable as
he really deserved it should have been. Was he
really going to be intrusive ? Surely, something
in his manner must have suggested Blanche's
jesting speech, absurd as it was. Perhaps there
was a tinge of Geoffrey Treherne's haughty self-
security in the object of Geoffrey Treherne's
Rob Lindsay. 19
admiration. Lady Laura Tresham, with her fair
face, and her womanhood, and her rent-roll, had
the birthright to such a pride, and but one or two
persons who were fond of her knew that, notwith-
standing this, Lady Laura Tresham was only a
very pretty, very tender, very innocent girl, of
whom experience would make the sweetest of
women. Almost unconsciously to herself, Robert
Lindsay was in her thoughts, as she went from her
room across the broad upper landing leading to
the staircase, but still she was by no means
prepared for a little incident chance brought
about.
She had just paused for a moment to arrange
the sweeping train of her dress, before going down,
when a door opened behind her, and the individual
who came out, in his momentary embarrassment
at finding her so near, trod upon the shining purple
silk before he saw it. It is quite possible that
this occurred because he had seen Lady Laura first,
and that, after his first glance at the aureole of
crepe, yellow hair, and the delicate face slightly
turned over her shoulder, he forgot the great
probability of there being a lustrous yard-long
train in her wake.
 I really beg pardon, he said, the next instant.
 Pray excuse me, Lady Laura, and he colored to
his handsome brown forehead.
c 2
20 Lindsay s Luck.
The glance of the eyes upraised in reply,
augmented his confusion. The young lady did
not color, not even ever so slightly, but she looked
somewhat astonished. Her only reply was a calm,
sweeping bow, and the next moment the silken
purple train was rustling down the staircase, and
the gentleman, who was no less than Robert
Lindsay himself, remained standing upon the
landing watching its progress with the most
unconscious of honest admiration. Now this
really was not a strictly conventional mode of
proceeding; but, as I have before intimated,
Robert Lindsay was not a strictly conventional
individual.
He was an honest, handsome, fearless young
fellow, and his beauty and fearlessness were his
chief characteristics. Chance had thrown him
into a 'somewhat novel position, but it was a
position whose novelty he was too thoroughly
manly to feel embarrassed under. He had been
glad to meet his host, and he had honestly
endeavoured to repress his inclination toward any
antagonism for the august but frigid Treherne.
He had thought Blanche Charnley a delightfully
pretty girl, and now as he stood at the head of
the staircase and watched Lady Laura Tresham's
sweeping purple train he forgot that it was unusual
for gentlemen to exhibit an admiration in so
Rob Lindsay.
deliberate a fashion, and remaining stationary
decided that he had never seen a woman so lovely,
so fresh, so delicate, and so well dressed, in the
whole course of his existence.
There was a little excitement upon him,
brought about by the unexpectedness of the
encounter, and this little excitement made him
turn into his bedroom again, before going down
after the train had disappeared, and taking his
stand before an open window, he waited a few
minutes for the fresh night air to cool him
off.
 It would have been a pleasant sort of thing,
he said, almost unconsciously,  a pleasant sort of
thing, if a man had lived in olden times, to have
ridden to battle with her lktle glove in one's
helmet. On that rich purple, it looked like a
lily—her hand. Golden hair, too, bright and
shining—just such hair as fellows like Tennyson
rave about. I wonder if Treherne—pah! No. I
forgot she did not know me when I called her
Lady Laura. Laura! Perhaps Petrarch's Laura
was such a Laura.
When he went down to the drawing-room, he
found Treherne bending graciously over Lady
Laura's'chair,the velvet blue eyes softly downcast as
he talked. The most prejudiced individual could
not fail to acknowledge that Geoffrey Treherne was
22 Lindsays Luck.
a handsome man, even in his least prepossessing
moods; and now,having in some sort recoveredfrom
his temporary disappointment, in his deferential
graciousness he was really very courtly-looking
indeed. Still, Robert Lindsay did not show to
any disadvantage as he bowed low before Lady
Laura, when Mr. Charnley presented him.. His
tall, stalwart figure had a self-asserting strength
that Treherne's lacked; his clear-cut, brown
face, and clear, straight-glanced eyes, were as
perfect in their beauty as a man's might be, and
the natural ease and fearlessness of any self-com-
mittal in his manner, to Blanche Charnley's mind,
at least, was worthy of admiration. But Lady
Laura, not being prone to enthusiasm, saw only, as
she rose slightly from her chair, a very tall, rather
good-looking individual, who had caused her some
little surprise a few minutes before, by addressing
her familiarly by her name, and who was, at the
present time, rather tending to increase it by the
unconcealed admiration of his glance. It was
evidently an admiration not easy to conceal, and
it expressed itself unavoidably, as it were, in the
frank, brown eyes, even once or twice after Mr.
Robert Lindsay had taken his seat at the dining-
table, exactly opposite Lady Laura Tresham.
How could he help it ? Every time he looked up,
he saw the pure, girlish face, with its softly down-
Rob Lindsay.
23
cast eyes, the delicate throat, and the aureole of
bright, crepe hair ; and, in spite of himself, the
honest delight he experienced, portrayed itself, to
some extent, in his countenance.
The Reverend Norman being a generous, hos-
pitable gentleman was very much predisposed in
his young guest's favor. Really, Robert Lindsay
was apt to prepossess people through the sheer
power of his great physical beauty ; and, again,
his was one of the rare cases in which there can
be no diminution of favorable opinion. He was
a good talker, through right of a sweet voice, a
clear brain, and a quick sense of the fitness of
things. He had travelled as much as most men,
and had seen more. He had enjoyed his youth
heartily, and appeared likely to enjoy his man-
hood; and, at twenty-six, despite a pretty
thorough knowledge of the world, he still retained
a simple chivalrous faith in things good and true,
such as few men can thank Heaven for the posses-
sion of.
Occasionally, during the evening, Lady Laura
found herself regarding him with some interest.
There was a novelty in this fearless man that
impressed her, and attracted her attention. He
was talking to Blanche about a hunting trip he
. had made in California, when her eyes were first
drawn toward him. It was a wild, adventurous
24
Lindsay s Luck.
story he was telling ; but he was plainly telling
it well, and with such a man's hearty, zestful
remembrance of its pleasures ; and Blanche was
listening, her look of amused interest not unmixed
with a little admiration. He had not been intru-
sive so far, notwithstanding his frank eyes, and
the trifling singularity of conduct in his watching
her passage down stairs ; accordingly Lady Laura
felt herself at liberty to judge him impartially
He was handsome, certainly, and a certain air of
boyish freshness and spirit in his style was whim-
sically pleasant. How he seemed to be enjoying
the jests he was making, and how well his gay
laugh chimed with the ring of Blanche's. He
would be a very hearty, honest lover for some
woman one day, and then, unconsciously, she
glanced up at Geoffrey Treherne, who stood at her
side, holding her little lace fan.
 Our friend seems to be enjoying himself, said
that gentleman, with calm disapproval of the new
arrival's being so thoroughly at his ease. Col.
Treherne felt, in an undefined manner, that the
young man ought to be a little overpowered under
the circumstances.
But, singularly enough, whatever the cause of
the phenomenon might have been, Lady Laura
did not respond as cordially as her companion
had expected. In fact, her manner was rather
Rob Lindsay. 25
coldly indifferent, when, after glancing across the
room, she made her reply.
"I had scarcely observed, she said; "Blanche
appears to be interested, however, and Blanche is
usually not easily pleased.
Treherne's hand went up to his big, fair
mustache, doubtfully. He did not understand
this. Surely, Lady Laura did not intend to coun-
tenance this person by even the mildest of lady-
like companionship. He turned round, and
looked down at her; but the lights of the glit-
tering, pendant chandelier shone down upon the
most tranquil and untranslatable of fair faces, and
he was fain to smooth his mustache again, and
decide, mentally, that this was an excessively
unsatisfactory state of affairs.
It was late when the family retired ; but it was
not too late for Blanche's customary visit to her
friend's chamber. During Lady Laura's stay at
the Priory, few nights passed without pleasant,
girl-like chats being held in one apartment or the
other. Blanche's dressing-room adjoined Laura's,
and, upon ^this occasion, her young ladyship had
just dismissed her waiting-woman, when the
young lady made her appearance in dressing-
robe and slippers, brush in hand, her abundant,
pretty fair hair hanging loosely about her.
 I want to have a long chat to-night, Laura,
26 Lindsay s Luck.
she said, after she had tucked her small, slippered
feet under her gay wrapper, on the most luxurious
little lounge in the room. "You are not tired, are
you? You don't look tired. The fact is, you
never do look tired. How delightfully flossy and
yellow your hair is ; you are sitting in an actual
bower of gold. I always think my hair is pretty
until I look at yours. Now, tell me what you
think of Robert Lindsay.
All this, in one gay, rattling speech, and then
she shook her fair tresses back, and paused for a
reply, with something more watchful in her eyes
than one would have imagined the careless ques-
tion warranted.
"Now it is to be an honest opinion, Laura, she
added, "without the least regard for the bales of
calico, and entirely unbiassed by any stately
remembrance of that first august Tresham who
came over with the Conqueror. What—do—you
—really—think—of—Robert Lindsay ?
 Think ?  said Lady Laura, complacently, and
with some slight, young lady-like mendacity, be
it known,  I think he is very big, my dear; and
really, I believe that is all I have thought just
yet.
Blanche's pretty shoulders were shrugged ex-
pressively.
 That is so like you, Laura, she said.  And
Rob Lindsay. 27
it is exactly what I expected, too. I knew you
wouldn't do him justice, poor fellow. Well, sup-
pose I give you my opinion of Mr. Robert
Lindsay. I—think—he—is—splendid ! 
Lady Laura drew a long, shining, heavy tress
over the white arm, from which the open sleeve of
the blue dressing-robe fell back, and she looked
at the shining tress, and the white arm approv-
ingly, as well she might.
 Why ?  she asked, concisely.
"Because he is honest, said Blanche. "Because
he believes in things ; because he is manly and
chivalrous. Do you know, Laura, he was honest
enough to tell me that you were the loveliest
woman he had ever seen; and he said it as gravely
and reverently as if he had been speaking of his
own mother.
Lady Laura flushed even to her white fore-
head.
"You are either talking nonsense, Blanche, she
said,  or I can tell you something else that I think
of Mr. Lindsay.
 What else ? asked Blanche.
 That he is very insolent, was the reply.
Blanche merely laughed, and shrugged her
shoulders again, with a comical little grimace, as
she answered this rather intolerant speech.
 I don't think he is, she said, practically.  I
28 Lindsay s Luck.
wish he had said it of me ; or I wish somebody
else had said it, with the proviso that they had
said it just as he did. He was speaking the truth,
and one hears so many white fibs in these days,
that the truth is as astounding as it is refresh-
in g.
But she did not refer to Robert Lindsay again
that night. Perhaps she thought she had said
enough ; at any rate, during the rest of their con-
versation, his name did not once occur; and,
when she rose from her lounge, at last, to go to
her room, they had wandered so far from Robert
Lindsay that such an individual might never have
had existence.
CHAPTER III.
A GLOVE.
UT before many days had passed, Lady Laura
found room for more than temporary
interest or temporary annoyance. She found
room for a surprise, which became in a short
space of time something like amazement. She
A Glove. 29
would have thought very little of Mr. Charnley's
guest after the first evening of their meeting, had
she not found herself compelled to think of him
through the agency of a rather unexpected fact,
which forced itself upon her notice. This young
man of whom, gentleman as he was, in her calm,
intolerant pride she had thought little more than
of one of her guardian's lackeys ; this young man,
whose father was a tradesman, and whose grand-
father she had heard Mr. Charnley say was an
excellent farmer; this young man was, in the most
unprecedentedly matter-of-fact manner, falling
into the same position as Geoffrey Treherne him-
self. She could not understand how it had come
about, and far less could she avoid it; she could
only begin, as time progressed, to feel that it was
so. It would have been the most impossible of
tasks to repulse him. His genial, hearty nature
was not easily chilled; and even Treherne found
his frigid stateliness met with a careless gaiety
that perfectly overwhelmed him. Lindsay's honest
undisguised admiration showed itself in every
action, and Lady Laura found herself sheerly help-
less against him. It was useless to endeavor to
chill him ; he clearly was determined to persevere
in sublime disregard of the fact that Geoffrey Tre-
heme and William the Conqueror stood between
him and the object of his admiration. He cared
3°
Lindsay s Luck.
little for Geoffrey Treherne, it seemed, and less for
William of Normandy; and yet, in spite of his
persistence, he was never intrusive. And, not-
withstanding her astonishment, Laura Tresham
could not resist wholly a slight inclination to feel
interested in him in some degree. If it had been
easier to dislike him, she would have felt herself in
a safer position, but to dislike him was a sheer
impossibility. She had tried the iciest reserve,
and he had waited patiently, until she was com-
pelled to thaw into at least a reasonable warmth ;
and this being the result of her efforts, good breed-
ing afforded her no alternative ; and yet she was
not quite prepared for the somewhat remarkable
sentiment to which the gentleman gave utterance
upon one occasion.
They were sitting together in Mr. Charnley's
study, one evening, when the conversation turned
incidentally upon a certain mesalliance that was the
subject of great discussion among the aristocratic
dragons of Guestwick, and which had aroused in
said dragons much severe contempt and disap-
proval, and Mrs. Charnley was echoing the public
sentiment, though, of course, more charitably than
was usual with the dragons, when Rob Lindsay
(people always called him Rob, he said), spoke up
with a not unbecoming earnestness of belief in
what he was saying.
A Glove. 31
 I don't think I agree with you, Mrs. Charn-
ley, he said.  When a man loves a woman
honestly, he forgets everything but that he does
love her honestly. He does not think so much of
her superiority or inferiority as he does of the fact
that he loves her. The woman I marry will be to
me simply the woman dearest to me on earth.
Mrs. Charnley smiled, but Blanche, who had
been teasing her macaw as it swung in its gilded
cage over the window-plants, turned round and
gave him a long, keen, quiet glance, as if while
measuring his strength, she found the result satis-
factory. Rob Lindsay had advanced in her good
opinion every day, though she rarely mentioned
him to Laura. A very short experience had con-
vinced her that if cool, deliberate determination
was of any avail, Rob Lindsay needed no cham-
pionship, and was surer of success than most men.
Lady Laura herself did not vouchsafe him a
glance. When he spoke, she was taking a book
from the library shelves ; and when, a few minutes
after, she replaced it, there was a faint glow of
unwilling color on her cheeks.
And later that very evening she had cause for
still greater and more indignant bewilderment.
She had been out in the morning, making calls
with Blanche, and upon her return had accidentally
left one of her gloves upon a table in the parlor.
32 Lindsay s Luck.
About an hour after the discussion in the library,
she remembered the mislaid article, and went to
the room to look for it, and as she entered, her
eyes fell upon the stalwart, good-looking figure of
Rob Lindsay, who was standing in the middle of
the apartment, with his back turned toward her.
He did not hear her entrance, and at first she
scarcely comprehended his pre-occupation; but
the next instant, a glance at the pier glass oppo-
site to him revealed to her the true state of affairs.
He held her lost glove in his hand, and was
regarding it as it lay upon his palm with a great
deal of quiet admiration, and before she had time
to speak, he had complacently put it into his vest-
pocket. He saw her the moment after, and turned
toward her with a coolness and freedom from
embarrassment that completely overpowered her,
and rendered her helpless, notwithstanding her
indignation. He must unavoidably have known
that the mirror had reflected everything to her,
and yet he was as placidly unconcerned as would
have been possible under any circumstances.
"I actually did not hear you come into the
room, he said, with audacious cheerfulness.
His coolness so staggered her, that for an in-
stant she only looked at him haughtily.
 I left one of my gloves here, this morning,
Mr. Lindsay, she said, at last, "and I came to
A Glove.
33
find it. It was on this table, near Blanche's card-
case, I believe. It was a mauve glove, with white
silk tassels ;  and she looked at him with steady
scrutiny that should have abashed him, but which,
to her astonishment, failed to do so.
He turned to the table as cheerfully as ever,
without a shadow of discomposure in his manner.
 It doesn't appear to be here now, he said.
"A mauve glove, you say, with white silk tassels ?
I believe I remember noticing it, this morning, as
being a very pretty glove. It would be a pity to
lose it.
Lady Laura did not waste time in any further
search. The ends of the identical white silk tas-
sels were at that moment showing themselves
above the edge of the pocket of his vest, and he
had not even the grace to blush, even while he
was perfectly conscious of the fact that her eyes
were resting upon this final touch of strong cir-
cumstantial evidence.
On her way to her room, Blanche met her upon
the staircase.
 Where have you been, Laura ? she asked.
"What is the matter ? 
"Nothing, said the young lady, briefly. "I
have been looking for my glove, and—and—I
haven't found it. Don't keep Mr. Lindsay wait-
ing, Blanche. I shall not have time to join you at
D
34
Lindsay s Luck.
present, and you know he promised to give you
another archery lesson.
Blanche ran downstairs, and, when she reached
the bottom of the stair-case, she found Robert
Lindsay at the hall door, looking out upon the
lawn with an amiable smile. It was a calm smile,
and a baffling one, and not at all an unsatisfied
smile, in its way ; and it was on the cheerful,
handsome face, even after half an hour spent in
the archery-ground. Then, after making several
very bad aims at the target, Blanche set another
arrow, and drew her bow with most delicate pre-
cision.
"And so Laura couldn't find her glove, Mr.
Lindsay, she said.
Mr. Lindsay looked with great complacency
first at the aim his pupil was taking, and then at
his pupil's pretty face.
 Why, no !  he said, regretfully.  I believe
she did not. And it was a pity, too, you know,
because it was such a very pretty glove. A little
mauve affair, with white silk tassels, and a delicious
little ghost of a perfume about it.
"Yes, admitted Miss Charnley, sagaciously,
 I know the glove. Laura always does wear
pretty gloves, and—there, Mr. Lindsay, as the
little, white-winged arrow whizzed away.  Right
in the centre of the target.
A Glove. 35
"In the very centre, replied the immovable
Rob.  And it is what I should call a very excel-
lent aim, too, Miss Blanche.
For the next day or so Mr. Rob Lindsay
encountered some rather rough sailing, if so in-
definite a term may be employed. In Laura
Tresham's creed presumption was the sin unpar-
donable ; and Robert Lindsay had been guilty of
an act of presumption, which had no equal in her
experience. If he had shown the slightest shadow
of embarrassment, or the slightest touch of peni-
tential regret, she might have found it possible to
vouchsafe him a haughty pardon ; but as it was,
his immovable composure baffled her terribly. As
far as was possible, without causing remark, she
had held herself aloof from him, scarcely deign-
ing him a word or glance ; but it had not pro-
duced the effect she desired. He did not intrude
himself upon her, but he certainly did not avoid
her. He was as gay and as good-humored as ever,
and seemed to enjoy himself as thoroughly. The
Reverend Norman was very fond of him, and with
Mrs. Charnley he was as great a favorite as Lady
Laura. In his good nature, his good spirits, his
boyish daring, and his almost affectionate warmth
of manner, were combined all the most desirable
characteristics of a favorite son ; and Mrs. Charn-
ley, with true motherly recollections of the Ralph
D 2
36 Lindsay s Luck.
of whom Blanche had spoken, and who was the
only son of the house of Charnley, regarded this
brave, high-spirited, dashing young fellow with
something of a motherly affection. Accordingly
she wondered somewhat at Lady Laura's cold
reception of her eulogistic speeches, but Blanche
understood the matter pretty clearly. Laura no
longer avoided mentioning Rob Lindsay. In
their nightly discussions she spoke of him with
cutting sarcasms. She laughed at him, and
sneered with extraordinary aptness at his uncon-
ventional frankness and warmth of manner; and
certainly poor Rob had never met with more
severity than he sometimes met with in the bright
little dressing-room. Still he seemed to sustain
himself with wonderful cheerfulness through it all.
Even when he had been most cuttingly satirized,
and when his pleasant speeches were received with
the most frigid hauteur, he appeared to make him-
self most thoroughly comfortable. He drove the
little pony-carriage for Mrs. Charnley when she
wanted to make her charitable rounds; he
arranged her footstool for her when she was tired ;
he had ridden over to Guestwick and matched
Berlin wools for Blanche to a shade ; he had ren-
dered himself popular with everyone, and even the
dullest, longest days were made cheerful by his
indefatigable good-humor. Taking all this into
A Glove. 3 7
consideration, it is easy to see that Lady Laura's
task was a difficult one. It was difficult to satirize
him to Blanche as mercilessly as she felt inclined ;
and, of course, it was impossible to satirize him
openly. And besides, it appeared quite probable
that, even under such circumstances, he would
have encountered the satire as he encountered
every other weapon. So she found herself com-
pelled, much against her will, to submit to the
sheer force of circumstances.
After the advent of the new arrival, Col. Tre-
heme's visits became even more frequent than
they had been before. Perhaps, notwithstanding
his self-consciousness, he had been quick-sighted
enough to see a dangerous rival in a man who was
generous, imperturbable, and physically beautiful in
no slight degree, in grand defiance of his lack of
pedigree. Women were subject to whimsical
fancies after all, and even such a woman as Laura
Tresham, with all her inborn prejudice and pride,
might be influenced by such a man's persistence,
if persistent he should presume to be. And in
her secret resentment against Rob, Laura was
more cordial in her reception of Treherne's
advances than she would otherwise have been.
She was less chary of her smiles, less inclined to
reserve, and altogether more encouraging. But
Geoffrey Treherne simply regarded this as the
38 Lindsay s Luck.
very natural result of his attentions. It was, of
course, not likely, after all, that any rival should
be successful against him, when it came to action :
and yet, notwithstanding his certainty upon the
subject, he felt more at ease when he found that
his influence did not appear to be at all lessened,
and in his security he forgot something of his
hauteur, and was more condescendingly familiar in
his manner toward the object of his former dis-
taste.
"This American seems to be a gentlemanly
sort of young fellow, he said, graciously, one day
to Blanche.  Not highly polished, of course,
but good-natured enough, at all events, I
think.
It so happened that this morning he had called
earlier than usual, and had found Blanche and her
friend in the garden with Rob, who was giving
them the benefit of his floral experience; and
Blanche, in gloves and a neat garden-blouse, was
trimming one or two of her favorite rose-bushes
with a pair of keen little scissors. She was snip-
ping away the dead leaves in a most scientific
manner, when her companion vouchsafed this con-
descending patronage of her favorite ; and she
went on snipping, a very charming picture of
unconscious innocence, as she made her reply.
"Now, do you really, Col. Treherne? she said.
A Glove.
39
 How very kind in you to say so. This is a
pretty rose isn't it? And how delighted"—snip,
snip, snip— Mr. Lindsay would be if I were to
tell him. Don't you think so ?
Treherne looked down at her with reflective
uneasiness. Her pretty straw hat hid her bent
face from him, and the scissors in the small gloved
hands were very busy ; but he was by no means a
dullard, in spite of his arrogance, and he felt an
uncomfortable sense of the fact that Miss Blanche
Charnley was satirizing him rather cuttingly, and
added to this, was an equally unpleasant con-
sciousness that he had made himself slightly
ridiculous.
 Pray, excuse me, he began, stiffly.  I was
not aware that my words could contain any
offence.
"Oh, dear, no! replied Blanche, with much
delightful simplicity.  Of course not. How
could they ? You see these people are not like
we are. I dare say it is very likely that they
don't sneer at our pretensions. And, of course
Mr. Lindsay ought to be much obliged to you for
your good opinion ; and if he wasn't it would be
very ungrateful on his part. But then, do you
know, Col. Treherne, I really don't believe, taking
all things into consideration, that I would patronize
him more than was absolutely unavoidable. It
40 Lindsay's Luck.
might interfere with his natural feeling of defer-
ence, you see.
It was rather severe upon Treherne ; perhaps, a
little too severe, upon the whole ; but Blanche
Charnley was apt to be severe, occasionally; and
she had been wondering for some time if a quiet,
suggestive lesson might not prove beneficial. Her
sense of the ridiculous made her keenly alive to
Geoffrey Treherne's peculiarities, and besides, she
was a little out of patience with Laura ; so she
went on to her next rose-bush in the significant
silence that followed with a quiet consciousness of
the fact that she had at least made a telling
shot.
There was a sort of uneasiness in Treherne's
manner during the remainder of his visit. He did
not like Blanche Charnley very much, but he had
a true English horror of making himself absurd ;
and the idea of having appeared absurd to Robert
Lindsay was particularly distasteful to him. Sati-
rical as Blanche's speech had been, it had suddenly
presented a new idea to his mind. Was it possible
that this young fellow was quicker sighted than
his careless gaiety had led him to imagine ?
Once or twice he had fancied that he detected a
thread of Blanche Charnley's keen-edged sarcasm
in his quietly daring speeches.
These thoughts were very busy in his mind
A Glove. 41
when, the young ladies having gone to change
their gardening dresses, he found himself pro-
menading one of the terraces with the cause of
his late annoyance.
CHAPTER IV.
 I THINK I HAVE SEEN THAT GLOVE BEFORE.
q^HEY had been walking to and fro for some
minutes in silence, but at length it was bro-
ken by Lindsay himself.
"I have some excellent 'weeds' in my pocket,
Treherne, he said.  Allow me to offer you one.
I brought them from Cuba myself.
It was a very pretty bead-embroidered cigar
case that he produced, and the cigar Geoffrey
Treherne accepted was the rarest and most fra-
grant of its kind ; but he scarcely looked at either
cigar-case or cigar, after his first word of thanks ;
his eyes had fallen upon something Lindsay had
drawn from his pocket accidentally, and which
had dropped upon the terrace near one of the
young man's shapely feet ; a very small article
after all, but it had attracted Treherne's atten-
42 Lindsay s Luck.
tion in one instant. It was a pretty mauve glove
with white silk tassels.
The next minute Lindsay saw it too, and stooped
to pick it up with the most collected of quiet
faces.
 I think I have seen that glove before, said
Treherne stiffly, "or am I mistaken ?
"Why no, returned Rob, good-humoredly, "I
don't think you are mistaken. It is quite possible
you have seen it before, I dare say. Won't you
have a light ? 
With the utmost composure, he had returned
it to his pocket, and brought out a box of fuses,
and having handed them to his companion he
stopped his walk for a moment, to light his own
cigar.
 I imagined I had seen Lady Laura wearing
it, said Treherne, helplessly. He was in a fever
of impatience, and could scarcely govern himself.
 Possibly, said Rob, puffing.  The fact is, it
did belong to Lady Laura, with intermediate
puffs.
"Then you are a very fortunate individual,
commented Treherne, frigidly.
Rob took his cigar from his mouth, looked at
its glowing end for a moment, and then tossed his
spent fuse away, looking as undiscomfited as ever,
which was really very trying to his companion.
 I Think I have Seen that Glove before43
 No, he said at last,  I can't say that I am
very fortunate, Treherne; sometimes I am almost
inclined to think that I am rather unfortunate.
Of course, Lady Laura did not give me her glove ;
and, of course, I am not such a vaunting idiot as
to pretend that she did. Neither am I such an idiot
as to imagine that she would have given it to me
if I had asked her. I found the glove and I kept
it. It is a pretty glove, and, though it may not be
a great loss to her, it is a great.gain to me. I like
to carry it about with me, and look at it some-
times, and that is how it fell from my pocket. I
should not have mentioned it if you had not seen
it; and I should not have mentioned it if I had
not wished it to be impossible for you to misunder-
stand Laura Tresham. Good cigars, these, arn't
they?
Treherne's reply was somewhat incoherent. In
fact he had never been so utterly taken aback in
his life. There was a coolness about this young
man's manner that was altogether too much for
him. Treherne was determined to sift the matter
as early as possible, and in his anxiety to sift it, he
did a rather unwise thing. When Lady Laura
came back again, he found himself alone with her
for a moment ; he brought the conversation some-
what abruptly to bear upon the subject most im-
portant to his ease of mind.
44 Lindsay s Ltick.
 This Japanese lily is a great favorite of
Blanche's, said Lady Laura, tranquilly, as she
bent over a flower ;  and Mr. Lindsay says—
 Our eccentric friend seems to be a great
favorite, interposed Treherne, in his secret anxiety.
 I wonder if you are aware that he carries one of
your gloves in his pocket, Lady Laura ? 
A sudden pink flush flooded Lady Laura's
bent face in an instant, even touching the light
waves of hair upon the white, low brow, and sweep-
ing over the slender throat. Her confusion was
so evident that Treherne found himself becoming
slightly confused also, and feeling more awkward
than he had anticipated, and, accordingly, his next
speech was an unfortunate one.
 He was good enough to explain to me, he
said,  that you had no knowledge of the fact of
his having it in his possession. He had found the
glove he said, and kept it.
Lady Laura interrupted him, a little tremor stir-
ring the folds of muslin over her neck, a dangerous
glow in her eyes.
"I ask pardon, Col. Treherne, she said; "but
may I inquire if you really felt it was necessary to
catechise Mr. Lindsay concerning the manner of
his obtaining possession of my glove ? 
Treherne was dumbfounded. For some reason,
inexplicable to him, the young lady was evidently
"/ Think I have Seen that Glove before. 45
annoyed in no slight measure. He did not under-
stand that the very pride he had admired as mating
so well with his own, had arrayed itself against
him.
 I am bound to say, he explained loftily,  that
there was no necessity for so doing. Mr. Lindsay
was honest enough to be desirous of making sure
that there could be no misunderstanding.
 He was very kind, replied Lady Laura, now
feeling inconsistently severe against the delinquent.
"Very kind, indeed ; but he was mistaken in say-
ing I did not know he had the glove. I saw him
take it. With that she turned away.
Through his intense discomfiture, Col. Treherne
left the Priory earlier than was customary with
him ; and it was after he had gone, that Rob Lind-
say, sauntering into the drawing-room, found Lady
Laura there, and was addressed by that young
lady in a very decided manner.
 I am glad you are here, Mr. Lindsay, she said
to him.  I have just been wishing to see you.
Col. Treherne tells me that you found the glove I
lost, and—and that, in fact, you showed it to
him a short time ago. This last artful touch as
punishment beforehand.
For the first time in the course of her acquaint-
ance with Mr. Rob Lindsay, Lady Laura had the
pleasure of seeing him blush. The color ran up to
46
Lindsay's Luck.
the roots of his curly brown hair ; but it was not a
blush of embarrassment. It was clearly a flush of
high, uncontrollable indignation.
He walked deliberately to the bay-window.
 I ask pardon, Lady Laura, he said, with a
startling warmth.  But may I ask if Col. Tre-
heme ; said that I had exhibited your glove to
him ?
The sudden change from his usual careless gaiety
to this somewhat foreboding frankness of de-
meanor frightened her fair young ladyship, in spite
of herself. She actually felt herself on the brink
of being most ignominiously defeated, and Rob
Lindsay, waiting for a reply, saw the blue-velvet
eyes that matched the blue-velvet ribbons, change
their expression.
 No, faltered the young lady.  He merely
said that—that he had seen it.
Rob's knitted forehead smoothed slightly.
"Oh! he said, more coolly. "That is a
different matter, you see. I am rather glad to hear
it too, because, if it had been otherwise, I should
have been compelled to say that Col. Trehernehad
not adhered strictly to the truth. I did not show
Col. Treherne your glove, Lady Laura. It dropped
out of my pocket accidentally, and he saw it, and
I—well, I spoke the truth about it.
He had never looked better in his life than he
 I Think I have Seen that Glove before  47
did when he finished saying this, and leaned
against the side of the bay-window, looking down
at her with a spark of the fire which had not quite
died out in his brown eyes. He saw that he had
startled her a little, and, despite his smoldering
wrath, he was tenderly sorry for it. He was not
the man to feel he had frightened a woman ever
so slightly by any thoughtless warmth of speech,
without a chivalrous regret.
"You must excuse my seeming abruptness, Lady
Laura, he said, in his good-natured, frank
fashion.  I misunderstood you at first, and if Tre-
heme had really given you the impression that I
had boasted of my luck in finding the glove, he
would have given you a false impression, and one
which must necessarily have made me appear con-
temptible in your eyes, and I could not stand that,
you know.
 I cannot understand, said Lady Laura, her
attempt at making a strong point a terrible failure,
 I really cannot understand why you took the
glove in the first place. It was very absurd, and
you must know that—that it has made me appear
very absurd too.
 Absurd !  said Rob.  In whose eyes, Lady
Laura ?
 In my own, she faltered, coloring until she
looked like one of Blanche's pink verbenas ;  in
48 Lindsay's Luck.
Col. Treherne's, and—and in yours. This last
with great weakness.
 Not in mine, said Rob, exhibiting great
cheerfulness.  Don't say that, if you please.
 But I mean it, returned Laura, breaking off a
rose-geranium leaf, and trying to regain her cold-
ness of manner.  You have made me feel absurd,
at least, you have placed me in a very annoying
position, Mr. Lindsay. Why, it is impossible for
me to understand.
Rob looked down again for a moment, with a
meditative air, at the averted face, and the white
hand toying nervously with the geranium-leaf, and
then he turned his eyes away toward the garden,
and, forgetting himself for the time being, first
whistled softly, and then stopped.
 Ah ! Why, indeed !  he said.
Having crushed the perfume out of one leaf,
Lady Laura threw it away, and took another, and
began again, utterly ignoring both whistle and
exclamation.
 Having subjected me to this annoyance, you
subject me to still another, she said. "The
annoyance of asking you to return the glove
to me.
Rob's countenance fell somewhat.
 I am sorry that I have subjected you to any
annoyance, he said, with honest penitence.
"/ Think I have Seen that Glove before49
 Very sorry, Lady Laura; but I believe I am
quite as sorry to hear you say you want your glove
again. Of course, you don't care for any reasons
I may have for wishing to keep it. It is a little
thing to you, and you can afford to ignore it, as
you do, but 
 I was not aware that I ignored anything,
interposed Laura, inconsistently.
Rob went on calmly.
 But I can assure you it is a matter of more
importance to me. But that doesn't matter,
does it ?
He stopped here, and drew the glove from his
pocket; but he did not offer it to her at once. He
held it in his hand, and looked at it a little regret-
fully and sadly.
 A very little thing to ask for, he said. "And
a very little thing to prize, it might seem ; but I
prize it, nevertheless. A very little thing to be
refused, too, is it not, after all ? But, as I suppose
Treherne has a greater right to it than I, why, here
it is, Lady Laura, and he laid it upon the little
work table of Blanche's, which stood between
them, therein exhibiting more discretion and
diplomacy than one would have expected of so
frank a young man.
I have already spoken of this unconventional
Rob's great physical beauty, and of the effect it
E
50 Lindsay s Luck.
was apt to produce in the way of softening people's
hearts towards him ; so you will not be surprised
at being told Laura Tresham was softened a little.
This momentary look of regretfulness was very
becoming to him, withal, and he had been straight-
forward and regardful for her, at least. And
then a half-worn glove was such a little thing.
And then—well, she looked up at his handsome
brown face, and his handsome brown eyes, and
relented somewhat. Besides, had he not intimated
that his rival had a right, which that rival had
not ?
So the glove lay untouched upon the table.
 Col. Treherne has no right to it, she said, with
some degree of hauteur. "He has no right that
you or any other friend of mine has not.
 Friend ? was Rob's quiet echo.
 I believe I said friend, she answered.
But she did not attempt to take the glove, and
when, a few minutes later, Blanche called to her
from the garden, she turned to obey the summons
as though she had forgotten it; and when Rob
drew her attention to it, she paused a moment,
hesitating.
"It is of no value to me, she said, carelessly,
at length.  I don't know where its fellow is, and
I should not wear it if I did. If you wish to keep
it you may, since perhaps that will prove to you
"/ Think I have Seen that Glove before. 51
that no one has the right to dispose of it but my-
self.
Rob took the glove in his hand, swinging it
lightly by its silken tassels, his comely face
brightening.
 Thank you, he said.  I do want it, and I
suppose the speech I am going to make is rather
an audacious one, but I can scarcely help making
it, notwithstanding. The fact is, Lady Laura, I
should not like to feel that the annoyance I have
caused you has forced from you the gift I value so
highly.
 It is certainly not a matter of compulsion, she
said briefly.
 Thank you, again, answered Rob, all the
cheerfulness in the world expressing itself in his
composure of manner.
And as Lady Laura left the room, the mauve
glove, for which GeoffreytTreherne would have given
something very considerable, was quietly replaced
in the pocket, from which, to Geoffrey Treherne's
blank amazement, it had dropped a few moments
before.
E 2
52
Lindsay s Luck.
CHAPTER V.
WITH THE ODDS AGAINST HIM.
JI) UT, with true feminine inconsistency, almost
before she had reached Blanche, Lady Laura
had repented her impulse of generosity somewhat.
Notwithstanding the malicious turn of Fortune's
wheel against him, Geoffrey Treherne had by no
means wholly lost his power over her, and her
inward conjectures as to what his exact opinions
would be if he knew the truth, made her feel
slightly conscience-stricken. She could not
altogether resist the idea that if chance should
reveal to him this little incident as it had revealed
to him the other, the result would be the very
natural one of some slight embarrassment being
entailed upon her, notwithstanding the fact that
she had left him to draw his own conclusions 011
the subject but a short time before. But then she
had been very securely innocent, and now—was
she ? Was she as securely innocent regarding Mr.
Lindsay himself? Had she been very secure when
she had looked up at his honest, indignant face
with that little guilty thrill of fear and admira-
tion ? She had tried to believe at the time that
With the Odds against Him. 53
it was only a thrill of surprise, having its founda-
tion in the sudden knowledge that this immovable
person could flash into such becoming wrath ; but
it did not require many moments' consideration
to force upon her that it was a guilty thrill, and
had held its own unpleasant significance. She
remembered, too, unwillingly, times when Robert
Lindsay's straightforward speeches, and practical,
frank ways, had given her something of the same
thrill before ; and when, by contrast with other
men she knew, and had in some sort admired a
little, he had seemed worthy of any woman's
respect and friendship ; yes, even worthy of the
love of any woman who was endowed with a
woman's natural love of fearlessness and honesty.
But then it would never do to encourage Robert
Lindsay, nevertheless. The fact is, that, stately
as she was in her girlish way, Lady Laura Tresham
was a terrible coward, and in her mind there was
a very natural awe of the weighty individual who
was something stupendous in Chancery. She had
stood in awe of this gentleman from the first hour
of her wardship, and even now, in her young lady-
hood, she was as much afraid of him as ever. She
had heard him discourse with stupendous solidity
of eloquence upon William the Conqueror, and the
barriers of society, and the stately obligations
under which the unfortunate descendants of
54 Lindsay s Luck.
William the Conqueror and his court had been
placed by those august personages having con-
descended to be born, and live, and  come over,
and establish a somewhat intrusive authority over
unborn generations. Lady Laura's guardian held
as a religious creed, to be religiously sustained,
that the circumstances of a stately Norman noble
having been called Basil de Tresham, entailed
upon this velvet-eyed, golden-haired young lady,
descended from him, the necessity of being solidly
majestic also ; and that all the velvet-eyed, golden-
haired young lady's little, secret, tender prejudices
must be crushed under the brazen idol of her
name's antiquity. So, with her guardian and the
brazen idol constantly before her as models, it is
no wonder that Lady Laura had innocently fallen
into a groove of opinion not unlike them, unless
in its being softened and made prettier by the
fanciful form it adopted. But, nevertheless, she
had been rather tired of William of Normandy
and Basil de Tresham, sometimes. Now and
then her guardian had tired her, and now
and then she had been tired of his aristo-
cratic eligibles, when they appeared (as they
not unfrequently did) in the form of languid
dandies, who wore faultless dress-coats, and neck-
ties, and gloves, and parted their hair in the
middle, and were loftily conscious of their families
With the Odds against Him. 55
belonging to the peerage, and their rent rolls
representing themselves through the medium of a
respectable row of figures. But she had never
been tired of Rob Lindsay. The young man
had a very simple way of accounting for himself,
and was very practically straightforward in his
assertions that he had nothing to boast of in the
matter of pedigree.
"You see, he had said, on their first discussion
of the subject,  it cannot possibly matter to one
now, as I understand it, whether the founder of
the family (that's what you call it, isn't it ?) was,
an illustrious individual or a plowman who
bought his bread and cheese with sixpence a
day. The family was founded, you know, and
the man's dead and this generation has arrived
at—Robert Lindsay ; and with Robert Lindsay
lies the rest, honor or dishonor. And it really
seems to me, Mrs. Charnley and Miss Blanche,
that the settling of such a question rightly has
nobility enough in it without troubling one's self
about a man who has mouldered centuries ago,
and who was not to be blamed or praised for
either the sixpence or the bread and cheese,
or on the other hand, for the series of lucky
accidents that made him a baron.
Thus had Mr. Robert Lindsay expressed him-
self, and thus had Lady Laura heard him with a
56 Lindsay s Luck.
sense of recognizing a fresh and not unpleasant
novelty in the speech, despite its rank heresy.
Still, it is not to be supposed that even such honest
observations as these could overcome the pre-
judices of a lifetime at once. But they had
impressed Lady Laura through all her girlish
pride in name and birth; and this day her
remembrance of them made her feel like a young
lady who had been self-convicted of heresy and
falseness to the inherited creed of her forefathers.
So, feeling after this manner, she repented her
generosity, and as the tide of her thoughts turned,
blamed Rob Lindsay for both generosity and re-
pentance, which was unjust, to say the least of it.
She made up her mind, during the day's uneasiness
that followed, that from this time forward Mr.
Robert Lindsay must really be effectually checked.
Accordingly, she applied herself to the task of
checking him, and stood upon guard with great
vigilance. Perhaps Rob was somewhat surprised ;
perhaps, being prone to deeper thought than
society in general imagined, the result was not so
great a surprise to him as might have been ex-
pected. But, as it is customary with story-tellers
to reveal to the public the private soliloquies of
the principal characters, whether plotters or plotted
against, who play parts in their stories, I will
record a simple soliloquy of my hero's which
With the Odds against Him. 57
arose from the occurrence of several untoward
events.
It was about a week from the morning of the
interview in the bay-window, when, during one
evening, Col. Treherne having called, Col. Tre-
heme's star had seemed very plainly in the ascen-
dant, and Rob, upon retiring for the night, had,
perhaps, felt a thought depressed, in spite of his
usual elasticity of spirit. He had not advanced
at all, and fate had been so far against him that
he had, for the first time, felt himself at some
slight disadvantage among the little party of
Treherne's friends, who had followed that gentle-
man's august example in paying visits to the
Priory, and addressing the Rev. Norman's house-
hold goddesses. They were polished, good-natured
men, upon the whole, and by no means dullards
in any sense ; they had every advantage of wealth
and pedigree, and William the Conqueror had
done his best for them, so that not Basil de
Tresham himself could have caviled at their
antecedents ; and, cheerful as he usually was, Rob
had felt this a little ; and he had felt also with a
faint, natural sting, that the best-natured of them
felt, however unconsciously and good-naturedly,
that this stranger was scarcely of themselves.
But'he had borne up against it well, and his genial
gaiety had engendered an unusual feeling of
5 8 Lindsay's Luck.
friendship and cordiality toward him, which, to-
gether with Blanche's thoroughbred tactfulness,
had saved him from what might have been a
greater bitterness ; and when he went to his room,
he was not, after all, as discomposed as a less
cheerful, well-natured individual might have been.
Then it was that he gave utterance to the soliloquy
which I regard it as my privilege to record. He
had paced the floor with some degree of restless-
ness, at first, but he had cooled off at length, and
brightening a little, he stopped, and taking the
mauve glove from its hiding-place, kissed it.
 Fate goes against a man sometimes, he said,
with renewed courage of tone;  but what is worth
winning is worth waiting for. If your hand v/as
in it, Laura  kissing the glove again.  But,
as it is not, I suppose I may as well console
myself with the fact that I have the glove, and Tre-
heme has not—which is one step forward, at least.
And in the bright, cozy little dressing-room
only a few yards away, another step forward was
being taken in which he had no share.
With a girl's quick instinct, Laura had observed
his slight discomfiture, and had dwelt upon it, as
it might be, as a means of self-defence. It would
be less difficult to be strong against a man who
was at a disadvantage, than against a man who
was popular, high-spirited, and successful. In a
With the Odds against Him. 59
little flash of triumph, for which she secretly de-
spised herself, she had been incautious enough to
bring the conversation to bear upon the subject, in
hopes that, Blanche might unconsciously second
her ; but the result of her manoeuvre was by no
means favorable.
 It seems really unaccountable to me, Laura,
said Blanche,  that you dislike Mr. Lindsay so.
I am sure he is very nice, and I am sure he likes
you. I don't agree with you in the least, either,
about his being awkward ; and I thought he never
appeared to a greater advantage than he did this
evening, when the 'odds were against him,' as
Ralph would say.
Laura elevated her lovely eyebrows.
 Of course, ' the odds' were against him,
Blanche went on.  One couldn't help seeing
that, and seeing, too, that he felt it a little. But
which of the men who were here this evening
would have sustained themselves as coolly under
the circumstances ? Did you see how good-
humoredly^ he put down that detestable little
Vicars, when he pretended to have forgotten his
name ? It reminded me of Lion patronizing
Ralph's terrier. The Honorable little Eustace
will never snub him again, you may depend upon
that, my dear.
For private reasons of her own, Laura forbore
6o
Lindsay s Luck.
to make any comment upon the subject. Women
naturally favor the stronger party; and Rob
Lindsay so often showed himself the stronger
party, through virtue of his peculiar coolness of
demeanor. He had shown himself the stronger
party when he had made his composed reply to
the little Honorable, which reply had so success-
fully nonplussed that small scion of a noble house,
and caused him to be covered with confusion as
with a garment. He was showing himself the
stronger party now, since Blanche Charnley had been
enlisted in his favor with her whole battery of
satirical speeches. Lady Laura changed the subject.
"Didn't I hear Mr. Charnley say something
about the probability of your brother's returning
shortly ? she asked, for the simple reason that
she had nothing more apropos to say.
"Yes, answered Blanche. "I forgot to tell
you, by-the-by. Papa had a letter from him this
morning. He says we may expect him in a day
or two. I was glad to hear it, for I was afraid
he would not be here in time to see Robert Lind-
say; and I know Ralph will like Robert Lindsay.
Laura subsided into silence in despair. Robert
Lindsay again ! Was it impossible to avoid Robert
Lindsay under any circumstances ?
Blanche did not remain in the room as long as
usual that night. After her last speech, Laura
With the Odds against Him. 61
was not inclined to be very communicative, so,
after a few minutes' vain endeavour to rouse her
to her customary animation, Blanche rose to go,
and coming behind the chair on which the graceful,
blue-robed figure sat, she lifted a mass of the pretty
bright amber hair in her hands, and, after holding
it for a moment in an affectionate, caressing,
thoughtful fashion, she bent over and kissed her
friend's smooth, carmine-tinted cheek.
 Good-night!  she said, in a manner lighter
than her pretty action had been,  and pleasant
dreams ! Ah ! my fair, careless goddess, what a
charming thing it would be if you were only not
my Lady Laura Tresham.
A few days later Ralph Charnley returned from
Oxford, and, through his arrival, fortune worked
very industriously against Robert Lindsay. Ralph
Charnley was a gay, dashing, astute young fellow,
noticeable chiefly for a wonderful exuberance of
spirits. He was a popular man, withal, among the
country-side aristocracy ; and his return was the
signal for a fresh influx of company, and a new
stock of amusements. There came picnics in the
Guestwick woods, evening parties, excursions to
the little neighboring seaport town for moonlight
sails ; and, in the general bustle of gaiety and con-
fusion, Rob Lindsay found himself separated
quite as effectually from the object of his admira-
62
Lindsay s Luck.
tion by a single dignified dowager, or a pretty,
chattering girl, as he could have been by the
Atlantic Ocean itself. As Blanche had predicted,
Ralph conceived a wonderful fancy for him, and
before a week had passed they were almost
inseparable. Ralph had a true English love of
sport, and Rob, with his remembrances of wild
adventure, had a great power of fascination in his
less experienced eyes. His sporting seasons had
comprised more than a few day-shots, fired in
roaming over a preserve with an attendant game-
keeper in the rear, and iced wines and game pies
waiting somewhere in the shade. He had lain by
his camp-fire through long starlit nights,. and
hunted through long days of an excitement not
without its peril. He had killed as much game in
two months as the highly respectable keepers of
the Guestwick preserves could have killed in two
years, even though the Guestwick preserves were
considered something quite worth boasting about.
Thus Ralph Charnley's interest increased daily,
and was finally not unmixed with admiration.
"He is a first-rate fellow, that Lindsay, he said
to Blanche, one evening. "What a favorite he
would be at such a place as Oxford or Cambridge,
where men find their level. We had just such a
fellow at Oxford once—a Scotchman ; and he was
the most popular man there. Just such a fellow as
With the Odds against Him. 63
Lindsay, and had lived just the same life, I suppose ;
and he could ride, and shoot, and fence like the
deuce. I ask pardon, Lady Laura. It is odd, too,
how gentle such men generally are. You don't
find such magnanimity and tenderness in men with
insignificant muscles. Douglas—that was the
Scotchman's name—had a little sister—a tiny,
deformed creature, with a wasted body, and big
seraphic eyes; and he used to wait on her like a
woman. Some of the men had been to his
mother's house, and they said that when the child
was in one of her paroxysms of pain, no one could
touch her but Douglas; and when she died, she
died in his arms. That is one reason why I say
Lindsay is like him. It appears there is just such
another pitiful little creature in one of the cottages
near here, and the under-gardener tells me that
Lindsay has taken a fancy to her ; goes to see her
almost every day ; and the child fairly lives in his
visits. I believe he is there now.
 He never mentioned it to us, said Blanche.
 I wonder how it was ?
 Oh, he is not likely to mention it!  said Ralph.
 He isn't that sort of fellow, you see. Men of his
kind are not apt to talk about what they do. If
I were a woman, I would trust my life to such a
man as Lindsay, without a copper farthing, rather
than trust it to William the Conqueror himself.
64 Lindsay s Luck.
Necessarily, this was rather an aggravation of
her wrongs, to the young lady, who sat at a little
distance diligently endeavoring to concentrate her
attention upon the little basket of gay flosses
and wools on her knee. Her small ears were
gradually warming until she almost fancied
that their glow must be perceptible. If this
state of affairs lasted much longer, it would
be useless to contend against the tide of public
opinion.
If she had given her secret inclination the rein
at that moment, forgetting Basil de Tresham, and
the awe-inspiring Chancellor, Lindsay's chance of
success would have been a very good one. But that
was not so easy as might appear to the uninitiated.
Of course, she did not love Robert Lindsay as yet,
and really she was secretly very much afraid of her
guardian. And then Geoffrey Treherne ? If Geof-
frey Treherne had been less eligible, or the Chancel-
lor less pompously imposing, Ralph Charnley's words
would have turned the tide wondrously that bright
autumn morning. But as it was, she did not love
Robert Lindsay yet. So she was saying mentally.
She was safe yet, and might she not make herself
safer still by saying yes to the momentous question
which Geoffrey Treherne had asked her the night
before ? She was almost desperate enough to be
driven to do so, even while she had scarcely
With the Odds against Him. 65
decided as yet that Geoffrey Treherne was more to
her than Robert Lindsay.
The Charnleys had arranged for the next day
one of the jolly, unique little excursions for which
they were so justly celebrated. It was to be a
shooting party, and, after the gentlemen had spent
the earlier part of the morning on the moors, they
were to repair to a place of rendezvous, where the
ladies and luncheon would await them. Then it
was that Geoffrey Treherne was to be answered, in
consideration of some nervous hesitation on Laura's
part the preceding evening. Nothing was clearer
than that the gentleman was not fearful of failure.
It could scarcely be otherwise than that he should
be successful; and this tranquil belief his manner
had plainly demonstrated.
Lady Laura scarcely regarded the excursion
with any degree of pleasurable anticipation. The
truth was, she had some slight dread of it. Per-
haps she was a little afraid of her august lover, or,
at least, sufficiently so to make a negative somewhat
difficult to pronounce. It was so evident that he
expected a  yes, that it would not be by any means
an easy matter to surprise him with a  no.
 I have actually no choice left, she exclaimed,
unconsciously, with pathetic helplessness.  Oh,
dear ! what shall I do ? 
Ralph had just left the room, and Blanche was
F
66 Lindsay s Luck.
reading, consequently the perfect stillness was
broken by the sound of her voice.
 No choice about what ? asked Blanche, sur-
prisedly, dropping her book. "Whathave you no
choice about, Laura ?
 Only some wools, was the diplomatic reply.
 I can't decide which to choose, rose or blue. I
don't think I shall work any more. I am losing
patience.
CHAPTER VI.
THE TREHERNE DIAMOND.
every one but Lady Laura the shooting party
was a perfect success. The weather was cool
and bright, the spirits of all in most excellent order;
the feminine portion conscious of appearing to great
advantage : the masculine half conscious of being
in the best of humors, and highly satisfied with the
prospect before them. All the morning the report
of numerous guns sounded over the moorlands, and
the purple heather-bells had been stained a deeper
color as the little, fluttering victims fell; for, as it
was the first of September, the slaughter of the
innocents was to be ushered in with eclat,
The Treherne Diamond. 67
At twelve o'clock the Charnley carriage had set
down at the place of rendezvous its cargo of half-
a-dozen pretty girls, and almost as many delicate
little hampers ; and Col. Treherne's respectful and
respectable man-servant, with an assistant, was
moving respectfully here and there, drawing forth
from inexhaustible corners wonderfully compact
arrangements for the further development of a
delicate, compact luncheon, so-called. Said lun-
cheon was in a temptingly complete state when the
report of the guns began to sound nearer, and then
ceased ; and soon the shooting party made their
appearance, followed by the attendant game-
keeper, hungry, elated, and not by any means in
reduced spirits.
Behold Geoffrey Treherne, in a faultless velvet
shooting-costume of Lincoln green ; behold Ralph
Charnley, in a brown one ; behold divers other
eligibles, in divers other faultless costumes, and
last, but not least, Robert Lindsay, surpassing him-
self in the matter of good looks, and wonderfully
surpassing the rest, with the aid of shooting-costume,
and his muscular, well-knit figure and comely face.
Lady Laura, standing a little apart, under a
huge oak-tree, and looking particularly girlish and
lovely, as she persistently worked her parasol into
the moss at the tree's root, glanced up as the sports-
men approached, and favored them, comprehen-
F 2
68 Lindsay s Luck.
sively, with a bow. It was not intended for Tre-
heme, individually, and it was certainly not in-
tended for Rob Lindsay; but both gentlemen
acknowledged it markedly—Treherne with a gra-
tified composure of manner, and Rob with a slight,
deferential raising of his hat from the crisp, brown,
close curls. From the general interest displayed
by the party, it was very evident that, in some sort,
Mr. Robert Lindsay had distinguished himself in
the public opinion. There was much cordial com-
mendation of his prowess, and much deferring to
his modestly expressed opinion on sporting sub-
jects, over the luncheon. The Honorable little
Eustace had plainly changed his mind about patro-
nizing the big, good-humored young fellow ; and,
amid the popping of champagne corks, Mr. Rob
Lindsay became, after a mild fashion, a retiring
Nimrodian hero.
 He was the best shot among us, Lady Laura,
eulogized Ralph Charnley, who was taking his
luncheon with unconventional ease, on the sward
at that young lady's feet. "And some of the
fellows were pretty good shots, too. I wish you
could have have seen the way he brought down a
pheasant Treherne missed.
"I thought Col. Treherne was an old sports-
man, said Laura, with meditative annoyance.
 So he is, answered Ralph.  But he is not up
The Treherne Diamond. 69
to Lindsay. The fact is, Lady Laura, Lindsay is
one of a thousand, in my opinion. He is a living
proof of my theory that a man can exist without
a great-great-grandfather. See what a splendid
fellow he is ; look at his physique, and then com-
pare him with that little snob Vicars. And I
really am not sure whether the founder of the
Vicars family was not William of Normandy
himself, or William of Normandy's aunt. Men
like Lindsay, strong, fearless, quick-witted fellows,
are what the world wants in these days; and
they are more sparsely scattered than they should
be.
Thus, through nearly half the hour spent round
the luncheon, and then, as she loitered over her
plate, Lady Laura was favored with another
expression of the public opinion, coming from a
sturdy gamekeeper, in drab leggings, who stood a
few paces from her, talking to Treherne's man-
servant.
 He bean't no fool, that American chap, saga-
ciously commented he of the leggings.  They
can't none on 'em beat him, I tell you, my lad.
No bangin' away and hittin' nowt fur him. What
he bangs at is bound to coom down. An' he's a
fine, hearty-natured young chap, too—cheerful like,
an pleasant i' his ways. It's him as is so kindly
to that little, weakly thing o' Jarvis's.
70 Lindsay's Luck.
Then it was that, under the accumulation of her
trials, Laura Tresham came to a desperate resolve.
What that resolve was may be easily guessed by
what followed as a result. When Geoffrey Tre-
heme took the place Ralph Charnley had vacated,
she received him with great steadiness of demea-
nor. It could scarcely be said that her manner
was encouraging, as far as any cordiality might be
concerned, for it really was not; still it was not
actually discouraging ; and from that time until
the party separated, the gentleman scarcely left
her side, and was so composedly assiduous in his
attentions, indeed, that his air had almost a tender
authority in it. As for Lady Laura herself she
really appeared to be in a singular mood. She
looked a little excited, and, once or twice, a false
note strangely shook the usual even sweetness of
her voice. Above all other things, Blanche Charn-
ley noticed that she persistently avoided Robert
Lindsay. She even diplomatized a little to avoid
encountering him when they reached the Priory,
and immediately after tea was over, she went to
her room upon plea of indisposition.
It was about two hours later that Blanche, fol-
lowing her upstairs, and going to her chamber,
found her sitting there alone with an open book in
her hand. She was not reading, however, and
scarcely appeared to have been doing so. The
The Treherne Diamond. 71
light of the tapers upon the dressing-table showed
two bright pink spots glowing on her cheeks, and
a suspicious glitter in her eyes.
When Blanche entered, she half-closed the book,
suddenly, still her forefinger, however, between the
pages. She had not retired, she explained, be-
cause her head had ached too badly, and now it
was better, and she had been reading.
There was a new anxiety in Blanche's mind, as
she took a seat upon the lounge near her friend.
Geoffrey Treherne's tender assiduity had held its
own significance to her, and she was anxious to sift
the truth to the bottom. But as, of course, it
would not do to approach the subject at once, she
chattered away with her usual animation, and let
the conversation take its own turn ; and at last it
drifted, as if by chance, to Geoffrey Treherne him-
self, and, finally, upon a ring Geoffrey Treherne
had that day worn.
It was a singular affair, this ring; a single,
great flashing diamond, set like a crystal tear-drop
upon the merest slender thread of gold. It had
belonged to the Trehernes since the first Treherne
had set it upon the betrothal finger of the first
English bride of their house ; and from generation
to generation it had been handed down as be-
trothal-ring for scores of fair brides. There was a
sort of superstition attached to it, Blanche said.
72 Lindsay s Luck.
Those who wore it were bound with a magic tie to
their liege lords, and no woman could ever be
freed from the spell, who had worn it if only for
an hour.
But as she related her legend, Blanche observed
that the pink spots on Laura's cheeks glowed
deeper, until they had almost deepened to scarlet.
She was somewhat uneasy, it seemed, even at first,
under the recital ; but when the last touch of
superstitious belief was added, the scarlet suddenly
faded, and the book she had lightly held slipped
away from her detaining finger, and fell upon the
carpet at her feet. She stooped to pick it up
instantly; but as she raised it, Blanche suddenly
uttered an exclamation, and, catching her hand,
held it up to the light of the waxen tapers.
 Laura !  she exclaimed, actual tears of despair
and disappointment starting to her eyes. "Oh,
Laura ! what have you done ?  For there, upon
the slender forefinger, glittered the flashing dia-
mond, imprisoned by the slender thread of gold—
the Treherne diamond, which had held so many
Treherne brides to their faith by the power of its
magic spell.
 Tell me the truth, demanded Blanche.  It
doesn't mean—Laura, it can't mean  And
there she stopped.
Lady Laura drew her hand away, not blushing,
The Treherne Diamond. 73
as a young lady might have been expected to
do under the circumstances. Indeed, if the truth
must be told, she looked slightly impatient, in
spite of her little, nervous laugh.
"Yes, it does 'mean,' Blanche, she said. "It
means that the spell is upon me too. It means
that I am engaged to Geoffrey Treherne! 
CHAPTER VII.
A DIFFICULT POSITION.
T™ ominous gold-imprisoned crystal had
flashed upon Laura Tresham's finger for some
short time, when a slow, new doubt gradually
unfolded itself to her mental vision. Of course, in
these days Geoffrey Treherne's visits had become
an established custom, attended with less cere-
mony than they had formerly been, and, of course,
the members of the house understood their por-
tent. In his triumph over his rival, Geoffrey
Treherne had been in a manner loftily gracious.
He could afford to be gracious now, and perhaps
some slight pity for Lindsay rendered him more
gracious than he would have been otherwise.
74
Lindsay s Luck.
Naturally it could not be otherwise, than that,
upon the first knowledge of the truth, Robert
Lindsay was, for the time, dashed and overcome.
He had scarcely expected such ill-fortune, at the
worst, and since it was unanticipated, it was all
the harder to bear. The first day he was some-
what more silent than usual, and his cheerfulness
of spirits seemed to have forsaken him ; but the
second day he brightened up a little, and having
spent the third out upon the moorlands, shooting
with Ralph, he returned in the evening with a
well-laden game pouch, and, to all appearance, a
fresh stock of spirits. From that time he did not
alter his manner toward Lady Laura in the least.
He was as unvaryingly good-humored as ever,
and as cheerfully unmoved by any coldness or
avoidance on her part. Even Blanche, with all
her penetration, was puzzled. He might have
been acting in accordance with some steady, pur-
poseful resolution.
In the first flush of her fancied security, Lady
Laura convinced herself that her position was not
an unpleasant one after all. True, she had pledged
herself, and must, at some not-too-far-away period,
fulfil her pledge ; but then she was safe ; and just
at this critical time safety was a very desirable
object to be attained.
But this was just at first. The excitement worn
A Difficult Position. 75
away somewhat, she did not feel quite so easy—
she did not even feel quite so sure of her safety ;
and, before two weeks had passed, once or twice
an occasional unpleasant secret fear had forced
itself upon her—the fear that perhaps she had
made her throw rashly, and staked a good deal for
a safety not so secure as she had imagined it
would prove.
Coming in from the garden one day, she stopped
in a little conservatory, opening upon one of the
parlors, and as she paused to examine a newly-
opened flower, she saw through the glass doors
that Blanche Charnley and Robert Lindsay were
in the adjoining room together, and she caught
the sound of the following comprehensive sentence,
deliberately enunciated as though in continuation
of some before-expressed opinion by the gentle-
man:
"And when a woman, through any foolish
fancy, or misguided pride, sacrifices herself to the
wretchedness of marrying a man she does not
love, her life will be a bitter wreck of all she has
hoped for. And, on the honor of a gentleman,
Miss Blanche, I believe that the man who might
save her from such misery, and does not dare the
risk, is not only unstable and weak of purpose,
but is unworthy of his manhood.
Laura waited to hear no more. She had heard
7 6
Lindsay's Luck.
quite enough to prove to her that certain suspicions
she had felt were by no meansVithout foundation,
and she hurried away. Here was a daring lover
indeed ! What reasons had he for supposing she
did not love Geoffrey Treherne as a woman should
love the man she marries ? She had certainly not
been demonstrative in her manner "toward him;
but then she never was very demonstrative, and
she had tried very hard not to appear cold.
Robert Lindsay was insolent, presuming, auda-
cious, but then how was she to withstand his
audacity ? It seemed sheerly impossible. She
had exhausted all her feminine resources of cold-
ness and hauteur, and this was the result. Was
ever young lady in such a strait before ?—abso-
lutely in danger of being overcome in spite of
herself, by a quietly-persistent, cheerful lover, who
most incomprehensibly refused to be rebuffed,
refused to be overwhelmed, refused to submit to
circumstances, and insisted upon retaining his
spirits, and enjoying himself in the face of every-
thing! She was so influenced by her adverse
fate, that, during the remainder of the day, she
was incomprehensible also. She looked uneasy ;
she lost her beautiful composure of manner ; she
was actually a little cross with Blanche, and she
treated Rob Lindsay worse than she had ever
treated him before.
A Difficult Position.
77
Running into Lady Laura's room accidentally,
while she was dressing, Blanche found her friend
in tears, and was surprised to find her sympathetic
advances rejected somewhat unamiably.
 Please don't pity me, Blanche, she said, with
most unaccountable tartness.  I don't want to
be pitied, my dear. I have got the headache, and
I am cross, and out of humor with everybody.
Blanche left her without expressing any further
sympathy, and, going down stairs again, innocently
revealed the state of affairs to Rob Lindsay, of
course without expectation of his drawing any
conclusions from the revelation.
 I found Laura crying a little just now, she
said.  She says she has the headache, and is
cross, which last statement may be entirely relied
on as being correct. What singular creatures we
girls are! I actually never knew Laura could
lose her temper until lately. Since the shooting
picnic she has been as nicely unangelic as I should
wish to see any one— as nicely unangelic as the
rest of us. Geoffrey Treherne is developing her
resources.
That night Blanche Charnley was very fully
satisfied upon the subject of her friend's resources
having been developed. There was more warmth
under the fair, tranquil face, it appeared, than
people generally imagined. I think it probable
78 Lindsay's Luck.
that every woman is spiced with a dash of hidden
fire, though it may only be developed upon rare
occasions; and the fire flashed forth brilliantly.
She was angry with Blanche for revealing her
secret irritation, angry with Robert Lindsay for
daring to listen, angry with herself for being
angry, and, in consequence, more irritable than
ever.
 It was ridiculous in you to tell him, Blanche,
she said. "And it was insolent, on his part, to
mention it to me afterward as he did. I never
disliked any one in my life as I dislike that great,
absurd giant of an American; and I never saw
any one so absurdly presuming, and awkward, and
tactless, and under-bred.
Her little flash of wrath cooled off after this,
and then, of course, she began to regret her
vehemence, and felt a little ashamed of herself,
and after that nothing was more natural and girl-
like than to be a little low-spirited, and a little
petulant; and at last, in the end, to burst into a
flood of tears, in a fashion most unaccountable to
every one but herself.
 I know it is foolish, she said,  and I know
you think it is foolish, Blanche, but I am so—so
miserable. And it was very evident that she was
speaking the truth, however extraordinary such a
truth might seem.
A Difficult Position.
79
 Miserable !  eehoed Blanche.  Miserable with
that on your finger, Laura ? And she touched
the Treherne diamond.
In this moment of her weakness, Laura forgot
to be cautious, and forgot that she was talking to
a very penetrating young lady. She flung out her
hand with a petulant gesture.
 I hate it!  she exclaimed ; and then suddenly
recollecting herself, and regretting her dreadfully
weak candor, she added, "At least I don't hate it ;
but sometimes I almost wish—I mean to say, I
almost wonder if—if it would not have been better
to have waited a little.
This diminuendo, together with her evident con-
fusion, was very expressive.
 Ah, I dare say!  said Blanche, consolingly.
 I thought so, from the first, Laura ; but it is too
late now.
Yes, it was too late, now, very much too late, if
the Treherne annals were to be relied upon; and
this conviction, perhaps, made Laura Tresham
more impatient than anything else would have.
Before her engagement she had at least liked
Geoffrey Treherne a little ; but now, being bound
to him by that unpleasantly significant legend, the
tie chafed her sorely, and occasionally she had
felt as though very little would turn the tide of
her opinion, and make her dislike him intensely.
8c»
Lindsay s Luck.
She knew that she was never happier for his pre-
sence ; she was even compelled to acknowledge
the secret feeling that she was slightly relieved
when circumstances interfered with his visits, and
her own heart told her that she had never so nearly
hated him as when he had pressed his first gracious
betrothal kiss upon her shrinking lips. She knew
pretty girls who were engaged, who seemed to be
wondrously happy, and whose bright eyes were all
the brighter and more tender for their lover's
gallant speeches. She had never blushed under
Geoffrey Treherne's most flattering address—she
had even felt very uneasy under them. But then
it was as Blanche had said, too late, and she must
even bear the uncomfortable cross with a good
grace, since she herself had taken it up.
And then, after this, there was an unexpected
arrival at the Priory, and this arrival was no less
a person than Lady Laura's guardian, Mr. Jer-
nyngham, who bore down upon his ward on his
way to Scotland, with a characteristic weight of
dignity, which almost overwhelmed that young
lady. He was making a business tour, and his
object in calling was to state his approval of the
engagement, with, of course, a slight reservation
in behalf of the magnificence of Basil de
Tresham. The match was a fitting one in every
point of view; but, of course, no honour could be
A Difficult Position. 81
done, and nothing could be added to the stately
loftiness of the house of Tresham, despite the
much-to-be-regretted fact that its sole present
representative was merely a velvet-eyed young
lady, whose affairs of the heart were in an unplea-
santly complicated state.
Under the heavy pressure of her guardian's
presence, Laura felt her courage subsiding rapidly.
What would he have said, had he known with
what an inward shrinking she received his gra-
ciously proffered congratulations in their first
private interview ? What would he have said,
had he known what an unladylike impulse
directed her, after the interview was over, to
snub her dignified betrothed upon his arrival ?
What would he think if he knew that the lucky
son of a  person in trade  carried her glove in
his pocket, and monopolized her secret thoughts,
to the great detriment of her affianced ?
The new arrival patronized Robert Lindsay
with great majesty, but not at all to the young
man's confusion. He was becoming used to some
degree of patronage, and could bear it with the
most undiminished cheerfulness. He had even
told Blanche Charnley that he rather liked it, to
that young lady's intense amusement. Thus it
may be easily seen that the struggle going on was
a very unequal one. Laura Tresham was easily
G
82 Lindsay's Luck.
influenced—Robert Lindsay scarcely to be influ-
enced at all. During the two days of her guar-
dian's stay, her fair young ladyship's patience was
tried beyond all bounds. Treherne's eyes were
gradually opening to a knowledge of the fact that
his rival was more persevering than he had ima-
gined. Circumstances, too, seemed to favour
Rob Lindsay wondrously, in the face of his first
want of success. He found himself unavoidably,
as it appeared, thrown into Lady Laura's path.
Perhaps diplomacy on Blanche's part assisted him.
Blanche Charnley was a thorough feminine plotter,
and worked with a will.
"She shall not marry Geoffrey Treherne if I
can help it, she said, desperately ;  and certainly
she won't if Robert Lindsay can help it.
83
CHAPTER VIII.
BROUGHT TO BAY.
she managed to bring about interviews that
were absolutely unavoidable; so she forbore
to uphold her favorite, but let him uphold himself ;
so she privately inquired into the facts of his
kindliness toward the little deformed daughter of
the under-gardener, and, dropping a chance word
here and here, aroused Laura's secret sympathy,
and that most powerful of all feminine feelings,
curiosity.
Then it was that Rob, for the first time, began
to recognize a faint shadow of sadness in the soft,
girlish eyes he loved so well, and for whose sake
he was doing such steadfast battle ; and it ap-
pealed to his tenderness. A man with less hearty
strength of purpose would have long before aban-
doned a struggle in which the odds seemed so
fearfully against him ; but Rob Lindsay's belief in
the simple strength of faith and endurance was a
very1 powerful one. Circumstances had proved to
him clearly that Laura Tresham's lover was even
a far less successful man than himself in the matter
of having won Laura Tresham's heart. Was he
G 2
84
Lindsay s Luck.
sure that he had won Laura Tresham's heart him-
self? Well, of late he had even dared sometimes
to think so, and decidedly he was not sure that he
had not won it, which was really some cause for
rejoicing. Thus he did not despair.
But, after her guardian's visit, Laura was ren-
dered desperate. She was not safe after all; she
was even more unsafe than she had fever been
before ; and thus, out of her desperation, there
grew a resolve almost as desperate as her first one.
She would speak to Mr. Lindsay openly; she
would force him to defend himself; she would tell
him that his absurd persistence was worse than
hopeless, and then, if this did not result in his
being utterly defeated, she would return to Lon-
don. That would end the matter, surely. But
she did not acknowledge to herself, even in her
most secret thoughts, that London was her last,
her very last resource, and that London, even
though presenting itself as a haven of refuge
from this too courageous lover, loomed up before
her reluctant mental vision with bitter gloom.
Northumberland had been so pleasant, she said,
inwardly; and it was because Northumberland had
been so pleasant that she was so unwilling to
leave it. But then she must go some day, and
already she had far outstayed the usual term of
her summer visits. She had been at the Priory
Brought to Bay. 85
nearly three months, and, notwithstanding her
grievances, the three months had seemed terribly
short No opportunity for the consummation of
her plans presented itself to her for several days.
But at length, one evening, as she came out of her
room to go down to dinner, the door of Robert
Lindsay's room opened behind her, just as it had
done on the evening of his arrival. On the
impulse of the moment she spoke to him.
"She wished to speak to him alone, she
said.  It was necessary that she should see him
alone, because, what she was desirous of saying
to him, could not be said in the presence of
others.
Rob bowed composedly, but nevertheless, with
surprise in his eyes. He would return to the
dining-room, after dinner, at any time that would
suit Lady Laura's plans.
Lady Laura's desperation was more intense than
ever, and the embarrassed pink on her cheek burned
into rose. Half an |hour after dinner would do.
This was all she had to say, and there she left him ;
and he discovered that he had taken his old stand
again, unconsciously, and was watching the sweep
of her rich dinner-dress, just as he had done once
before.
And half an hour after the dinner was over, he
sauntered back to the dining-room, and found her
86
Lindsay's Luck.
young ladyship awaiting him, and pretending to
read by the light of the chandelier. But the
reading was such a poor little pretence, that in
spite of her attempts to preserve a beautiful
unconsciousness of the embarrassment of her
position, she colored most transparently.
Rob took his stand complacently. He was
rather curious to see how the matter would end ;
but notwithstanding the faint inkling he had of its
portent, he was not much discomposed. He was
not the man to be discomposed by a pretty girl; and
Lady Laura Tresham had never looked so pretty, so
innocent, and so girlish, as she did just at the
moment she closed her book, with the flicker of
embarrassed light in her eyes.
Rob was quite conscious of her embarrassment,
and very conscious indeed of the prettiness and
girlish timidity of manner. Perhaps he had never
admired Laura Tresham so much as he did that
instant; and decidedly he had never felt so steady
in his determination to do honest battle for her
sweet sake.
It was at least five minutes before Lady Laura
summoned a sufficient amount of courage to allow
of her broaching the subject of her grievance, and
when the courage was summoned, and the subject
broached, it was done with some slight degree of
tameness. She scarcely knew what she said as a
Brought to Bay. 87
beginning ; but she was quite conscious that it
was very weakly said, and that her knowledge of
her weakeness burned even her white forehead like
fire. Altogether her appeal was something like a
sudden little burst of feeling, half like a small
denunciation, half like a reluctant reproach ; and
it ended by accusing Robert Lindsay of being
unjust and unkind.
"You made me appear absurd before, she said,
 and you are making me appear absurd again;
worse still, you are forcing me to make myself
appear absurd.
 In whose eyes ? repeated Rob, just as he
had done before.  Don't say in mine, Lady Laura.
She scarcely deigned to look at him. By the
repetition of her grievances she had almost
managed to make herself angry, and she felt it to
her advantage to add as much fuel as possible to her
wrath, lest it might come to a weak conclusion.
 It is ridiculous, she said, again. "You know
it is, Mr. Lindsay. And if your intention was to
make me feel wretched and uncomfortable, you
have certainly been successful.
 I did not intend to make you uncomfortable,
said Rob.
 If—if I were not—engaged, with a little dash
at the last word, and a great dash of new color,
"you know that you—that I—I mean to say—
88
Lindsay s Lnck.
you know you are treating me very unjustly, Mr.
Lindsay.
She stopped here, petulant and excited, and
waited for his reply without looking at him. At
this juncture Rob rose from his seat, and slightly
to her wonder, [took two or three abrupt turns
across the room. Then he came back, and folding
his arms on the high back of his chair, looked
down at her bright, bent head and petulant, fair face.
 Why, Lady Laura ?  he asked.
Now, this was really trying; and not only
trying, but confusing. Necessarily the two or
three abrupt turns across the room had taken
some short time, and necessarily this lapse of
time, short as it was, had wholly unprepared
Lady Laura for this composed inquiry. In her
surprise and embarrassment she forgot herself, and
looked up at him, and thus became more confused
than ever.
"I really don't understand you, Mr. Lindsay,
she said.
 Then I can easily make myself understood, I
suppose, answered Rob, cheerfully,  by speaking
more plainly. Why is it absurd that I should love
you ? Why is it absurd that I should wish to tell you
so ? Why is it absurd that I should wish to win you
as Geoffrey Treherne did ? That is what I mean-
Frank and fearless as he always was, and as she
B7'ought to Bay. 89
had always known him to be, this was more than
she had expected. She had never thought he
would dare so far as this, at least, and the sudden
knowledge that the worst had come to the worst,
indeed, was such a shock to her that she felt
powerless, and lost even the atom of self-posses-
sion of which she might perhaps have boasted
a few minutes before. And, apart from this,
having admired him a little in secret, and having
been so often conquered by his fearlessness
in their battles, there was something almost
touching in the fact of this fearlessness asserting
itself so strongly. And since she was thus
touched for the moment, there was no help for her,
for, be she as proud as she may, when a woman is
touched indeed, she is weaker than even her worst
enemies may fancy. She looked up at him once,
and faltered; she looked up at him again, and
felt his strength ; she looked a third time, and
acknowledged her own weakness, and, remember-
ing nothing but this weakness, got up from her
chair, hurriedly, and broke down into a pretty,
sudden appeal that was wonderfully unexpected,
even to him,
"You ought not to say such things to me, she
said, desperately. "You must know it is wrong,
and—and cruel. Ah, Mr. Lindsay, why won't you
have pity 011 me and be reasonable ?
90 Lindsay s Luck.
From his place behind the chair, upon whose
high back he leaned, Rob looked down at this
fair, despairing enchantress, with a great deal
of serenity of manner. He was not a Geoffrey
Treherne, and his pride was not of the Treherne
order, inasmuch as it had more of self-respect, and
less of self-sufficiency about it. Laura Tresham
Could not overpower him with her stately coldness.
She had struggled against him with her utmost
power; she had called him awkward and presum-
ing; she had sneered at him when she spoke of
him to Blanche Charnley; but she had never
daunted him in the least, and, in spite of her
sneers, she had not been able to resist him in the
end; and here she was, sitting alone with him,
giving him, this  big, underbred American, an
interview, in spite of herself, and feeling fully
conscious that she was getting the worst of the
combat.
Rob was cheerful, composed, serene, good-
humored, and with his serenity he baffled her once
more, and scattered her self-possession and her
self-possessed plans to the winds.
 Reasonable !  he echoed, when she had finished
speaking.  Am I unreasonable, Lady Laura ? Is
it unreasonable that I should love you, and that,
loving you I should have determined to win you
if I might, in spite of the world, in spite of Col.
Brought to Bay.
9i
Treherne, in spite of William the Conqueror, who,
it appears, has stood between me and my man's
right to say to you, like an honorable gentleman,
' Laura, I love you, give me the blessed right to
call you wife' ?
She turned upon him, actually feeling pale, not-
withstanding her poor little pretence of anger.
 You are going too far, she cried, more de-
sperately than ever.  I cannot listen to you—I
will not listen to you. I asked you to have pity
on me, and you have no pity. I will not appeal
to you again. You are unjust, and unkind, and
wicked !  And she hid her face in her hands.
There was a short silence, not without its sting
of bitterness to Rob, just the momentary sting he
had felt so often before—a sting bitter enough,
though it passed away.
"Ah, Laura! he said, at length, sadly, "I
cannot even ask you to forgive me; for what is
there to forgive, and how can I regret that I have
loved you ? You are not Lord Tresham's daughter
to me—you are only a woman ; the woman I love
with all my soul, and all my strength ; and since I
am a man, I have not feared your stately pride, for,
by my life, if love and patient faith can win a
woman, I will win you yet, in spite of ten William
the Conquerors. If you had loved Geoffrey
Treherne, or if, without having won your heart, he
92
Lindsay s Luck.
could make you happier than I could, I would lay
my love at your feet, and leave you here with him,
and go back to America to-morrow. But you do
not love him, and, in your secret heart, you dread the
marriage ; and if I can save you from it, I will not
give you up. I will not—I will not, by my faith.
Laura started from her seat again, white with
wrath and agitation, and the two faced each other
as they had never done before—their sudden mood
a new one.
Rob stood up too, no longer leaning upon the
chair, but erect, and with his arms folded, his care-
less good-humor overruled by something infinitely
deeper and more worthy—the something innately
natural to the man, but a something he did not
show every day.
"How dare you! Laura flashed out. "How
dare you say I do not love Col. Treherne ? What
right have you to presume to say so ? You are
insolent, indeed, sir.
Rob came nearer to her, with a repressed fire in
his handsome eyes.
 Laura! he said, with singular steadiness,  say
that you love him, and I will leave you now.
She opened her lips, looked at him, and stopped.
She thought of Geoffrey Treherne, and his half-
measured love; she thought of Lady Laura Tre-
heme in the future, and turned paler than before.
Brought to Bay.
93
Rob Lindsay had conquered her again. But her
anger and wounded pride came to her aid, and
helped her, and she turned away, haughtily.
 I shall not say so, she said.  I shall not
reply to a question so insolent. Your presumption
is unpardonable ! And, having said this, she
swept by, and left him standing in the middle of
the room alone.
Then she went to her chamber, and wrote a
letter to her guardian.
"I am going back to London with Mr. Jernyng-
ham, when he returns, she said to Blanche, who
found her in the middle of it.  I must go back,
some time, you know, and I think I had better go
now.
Nor could all Blanche's entreaties change her
determination.
94
Lindsay s Luck.
CHAPTER IX.
FOR THE TIME BEING.
JT is very probable that, after Lady Laura's
departure, despite the muir-fowl and the
tactful good-nature of the Charnleys, Northum-
berland seemed, for a day or so, a trifle dull to
Rob Lindsay. There was a sense of lonely
emptiness, even in the delightful, cozy, old-
fashioned rooms of the Priory, since the sweet,
proud face illumined them no longer. And,
besides this, the autumn having fairly set in, had
set in, of course, in good old dismal English
fashion, with grey, leaden clouds, and drizzling,
suicide-suggesting rains, and dropping, sodden
leaves. It was a little disheartening, too, to hear,
in the course of a week, that Treherne had run
down to London ; and it was equally disheart-
ening to guess the cause of his visit; but still
Rob Lindsay did not quite lose courage. It
would not do, however, to remain at the Priory
very much longer; so, after a week's lounging,
and reading, and grouse-shooting, he decided that
he would continue his travels, as he had from the
For the Time Being. 95
first intended doing ; and, having come to this
decision, he broached his plans to Ralph
Charnley.
"You see, he said, "I promised myself a
comfortable, careless, amateur sort of a tour
through the Old World ; and I am of the opinion
that it would be all the pleasanter for a com-
panion. Why can't you cram your things into a
valise and come along with me ?
Ralph was highly pleased. There was nothing
to prevent him doing so, he said.
 We will go wherever the guide-books tell us
to go, said Rob, sagaciously; "and we will stay
at each place until we want to go somewhere else.
That's my mode of travel.
 It's a first-class one, answered Ralph, with an
admiring glance at the strengthful, idle figure,
stretched full length upon the sofa. "And we
might stop in London a day or so, on our way.
 So we might, said Rob, as coolly as though
the idea had just occurred to him.
"And we might call upon Jernyngham and see
Lady Laura. Blanche had a letter from her this
morning, and it appears that she is not very well,
This with great gravity of demeanor, but also
with a side-glance, not unlike one of Blanche's, at
the good-looking, brown-eyed face opposite.
The bown-eyed face had changed slightly, it
96 Lindsay s Luck.
seemed, for the instant ; a flicker of light passed
over it, touching the brown eyes with tenderness.
Ah ! Lady Laura, you were only a girl to him—a
girl whom he loved, and for whom he had a
sudden sense of pity, through his fancy of the
imposing Chancery representative and Geoffrey
Treherne combining themselves with the brazen
weight of Basil de Tresham.
 Laura Tresham is a charming girl, Ralph
remarked, casually, as it were ;  but she has made
a great mistake, in my opinion.
"How? asked Rob, calmly and reflectively
surveying the light wreaths of smoke curling up
from the end of his cigar.
"H ow, indeed !  echoed young Charnley.
"Just as a hundred other women do every day.
Treherne is a magnificent, gentlemanly idiot.
"Oh! you mean Treherne, do you? Rob
returned, still looking at his cigar wreaths.
"Well, perhaps I am scarcely qualified to judge
whether you are right or not, inasmuch as 
And here he stopped.
 Inasmuch as ?  was Ralph's quiet suggestion.
Rob laughed,
 Inasmuch as, he answered with considerable
candor.
"Yes; inasmuch as Treherne won where I lost
«— for the time being.
For the Time Being.
97
Ralph gave him another of the quick glances
that were so like Blanche's.
"For the time being ?  he repeated.
"Exactly, said Rob, good-humoredly. "'He
who fights and runs awray may live to fight another
day.' And I did not run away, my dear old
fellow. I was merely defeated, for the time being
as I said before.
This was more than Ralph Charnley had ex-
pected to hear. The fact was, he had been sympa-
thizing with his friend, to some extent, in private.
 Does that mean you have not given her up
yet ?  he asked, surprisedly.
"I don't give anything up easily, said Rob.
 I should not give a trifle up easily, and Laura
Tresham is not a trifle. Yes, that is what it
means.
Ralph turned and looked at him from head to
foot—at his careless, handsome face with its hint
of hidden strength; at his careless, handsome
figure, carelessly expressing just the same hint
again; and having taken him in, as it were, he
shrugged his shoulders.
"You look as if you could turn the world, was
his comprehensive comment;  and though you
have before you the harder task of turning a
woman, it suggests itself to me that there is not
much doubt of your ultimate success.
H
98 Lindsay's Luck.
 Thank you !  said Rob, succinctly.
A few days later, Lady Laura, sitting at one of
the iron-balconied windows of the Jernyngham
mansion, was startled by the sight of a familiar,
well-knit figure, that was being ushered through
the big entrance gates by the porter. Naturally,
she was startled, for she had imagined this same
well-knit figure to be at that moment looking out
at the rain and mist, from certain windows in
Northumberland.
She rose from her seat hurriedly, feeling not a
little agitated. She must refuse to see him, of
course. And then a sudden thought arose to her
mind : he was going away ! Perhaps he was going
back to America, and they might not meet again !
And he had not been so very wrong, after all.
And—and—the truth was, she could not quite make
up her mind to dismiss this brave, indefatigable
suitor without a farewell word. A moment more,
and a card was handed to her by a servant, who
looked at her slightly agitated face with something
of wonder.
 Robert Lindsay.
She read it two or three times to steady her-
self. Since it might be a farewell visit, perhaps it
would be better to see him—at any rate it would
be the easier plan. Accordingly, she went into
the drawing-room, where Rob awaited her arrival.
For the Time Being. 99
His stay was not a long one, however. He was
not going back to America, after all; and her
fears on this point relieved, Laura could not resist
a very conscious remembrance of their last inter-
view. It was rather a difficult matter to refer to
the Charnleys, and the summer visit, and still steer
clear of the hidden quicksands, and, in endeavour-
ing to do so, she found herself becoming entangled
as usual. She was wretchedly uneasy under his
presence. She had been wretched ever since she
had left Northumberland. She had been terribly
wretched under the infliction of Geoffrey Tre-
heme's visits; and Robert Lindsay's unexpected
appearance proved to her, before many minutes
had passed, that the acme of her wretchedness
was yet to be reached. It was useless to attempt
to appear at ease. The slow, tell-tale fire crept
up on her cheeks at his first glance, and in his
brief stay it deepened and burned into a steady
flame. He did not refer to the past at all
during their interview, but when, at last, he rose
to go, his mood seemed to change, and a momen-
tary shadow fell upon him. He had tried in vain
to rouse her to something of freedom and frank-
ness, and his visible failure had stung him some-
what.
 When I was a boy at school, he said,  they
used to say I was a fortunate fellow, as a rule, and
H 2
loo Lindsays Luck.
Lindsay's luck was a sort of proverb. But it
seems to have failed me a little at last. In an
hour from now, I dare say I shall not feel that I
am battling against fate; but just now I do feel
it strongly. Good-bye, Lady Laura. And he
held out his hand.
She took it, feeling terribly at a loss for some
speech sufficiently cold and inapropos of the
ubj
 Will your absence be a long one ? she faltered,
awkwardly.
He glanced down at her face, and then at the
hand he held—the hand with the legendary Tre-
heme diamond upon it.
 I scarcely know, he said.  It seems just
now, you see, as if I were something like one too
many ; but, when that feeling wears away, I dare
say you will see me again ; and then perhaps it
will be to hear me say, ' Good-bye, Lady Laura
Treherne.'
She stood behind the heavy curtains of the
window, and watched him pass out of the entrance-
gate just as she had watched him pass in, and as
the last echo of his footsteps sounded upon the wet
pavement, she felt an uncomfortable pressure on
her throat—that uncomfortable, suffocating throb
wet days and adverse Fate bring to women, now
and then, as a punishment for their small trans-
For the Time Being.
101
gressions ; then a hot drop slipped down her cheek
and flashed upon her hand, very near the Treherne
diamond ; and then another and another, fast and
heavily.
 It is the dull weather, she said— the dull
weather, and the loneliness and—and everything.
I wish I had never gone up to Northumberland.
I wish I was a beggar or a servant-maid. Ah!
Blanche was right in saying that I had better
have been anybody than Lady Laura Tresham.
CHAPTER X.
i don't know.
this was the beginning of a new era of
stronger dissatisfaction. If she had scarcely
cared for Geoffrey Treherne before, as the slow,
heavy winter months lagged by she almost hated
him. Very naturally, Col. Treherne was becoming
impatient. Of course, the engagement must be
consummated at some time, and, in Col. Tre-
heme's opinion, Lady Laura's desire to delay this
consummation was a very extraordinary one. He
102
Lindsay's Luck.
discussed the matter with her guardian, and that
gentleman bore down upon his ward with a weight
of argumentative eloquence which added to her
troubles in no inconsiderable manner. London
had never seemed to her so wearily, heavily dull,
and the great iron-balconied, iron-grated house so
intolerant in its stubborn assertion of itself. That
slowest and most dignified of carriages, adorned
with Basil de Tresham's coat of arms, in bearing
its fair freight and her card-case from house to
house on occasional dismal mornings, might figur-
atively be said to have been driving her, not
through her rounds of indispensable morning calls,
but driving her to desperation. And, apart from
all other adverse turns of fortune, really Lady
Laura Tresham was not greatly to be envied,
after all. With all the gloomy dignity of Basil
de Tresham's line concentrated in her own girlish
existence, with no home-ties, and few near friends,
it is not to be wondered at that the bright home-
comforts of the Priory seemed to her a haven of
rest and delight. In those days, between her
weariness and Geoffrey Treherne, she lost spirit
and animation, and something of the delicate
coloring formerly so charming. Now and then
Blanche's letters brought tidings of the two
travelers. Ralph and Mr. Lindsay were in Naples.
Ralph and Mr. Lindsay had been to Rome, and
I Dorit Know. 103
had picked up some pretty oddities, in an anti-
quary's shop in some out-of-the-way-place or
other, and, having picked them up, had sent them
home as presents.
 Mamma is more in love with Robert Lindsay
than ever, the young lady wrote.  He has written
to her once or twice, in that honest, hearty, boyish
fashion of his, and she watches for his letters as
anxiously as she does for Ralph's.
Now and then, too, there came whimsical scraps
of news, that were plainly from this life-enjoying
Rob Lindsay's pen; and these Lady Laura read
oftener than all the rest. She fell into a fashion
of sitting, with her hands folded upon her knees,
before the fire, in her rich, desolate room, and slip-
ping into sad, fanciful, girl-like reveries concerning
this same Rob Lindsay. How would it have been
if he had been Geoffrey Treherne, or if she had
not been so sternly set under the shadow of De
Tresham's exclusive greatness ? Would she have
dreaded the letter-reading and the letter-writing
then ? Would she have felt that dreadful impulse
to be almost rude in her coldness, when she found
herself alone with Col. Treherne, doomed to sus-
tain with amiability her character of engaged
young lady ?
She never did more than ask herself these
questions ; but the time came when she knew she
104 Lindsays Luck.
could have answered them with little trouble, and
answered them truly, too.
But at length the time came also, when Geoffrey
Treherne could be set aside no longer, and then
her strait was a desperate one indeed. He came
up to London, and had an interview with her
guardian, which resulted as might have been
expected. Through sheer force of superior
power his point was gained, and the day
fixed for the wedding. There was a rush and
bustle of trousseau ordering, a stately, portentous
driving of the stately carriage to jewellers and
milliners ; and then, after each day, there came to
Laura Tresham, in her lonely, handsome chamber,
more of the sad fireside reveries, and something
very much stronger than even the old impatience
and dread.
In the letters that went from London to North-
umberland, it is probable that something of the
unpleasant truth crept out. Of course, Lady
Laura did not say to her friend that she was a very
miserable young lady, and that she dreaded the
approaching marriage more intensely every day.
Of course she did not say that, in defiance of her
struggles, her heart was following, with the utmost
impropriety, the gay tourist, who seemed to be
enjoying himself so vigorously; and, of course,
above all, she did not say that, but for the fact
I Dorit Know. 105
that she was a very cowardly young lady, she
would have rid herself of the legendary Treherne
diamond any day, for this gay tourist's sake, and
have been very heartily glad to do so. But, though
she did not say this, her letters told Blanche
Charnley that her fair friend was  lonely, and
 blue, and  not very well;  that she found Lon-
don insupportable, and had never enjoyed any-
thing so much as that summer's visit. More, too,
than this, they spoke with such evident shrinking
of the arrangements made, and so slurred over all
mention of the bridegroom, and so sadly touched,
now and then, upon  helplessness, and  friendless-
ness, that Blanche arched her piquant eyebrows
over them, and shrugged her piquant shoulders, and
often ended with a little impatient  pah ! 
But at length an epistle came which broke
through all restraint in a most unexpected manner.
It was about three months before the day
decided upon for the wedding that this letter
arrived ; and it was most unfeignedly tear-blotted
and most unfeignedly wretched and despairing in
tone. It was plainly a burst of appealing des-
peration, the result of a sudden rush of hopeless
misery, and it ended by imploring Blanche to
come to London at once.
Having read it, Blanche did not say  pah !  she
said,  Poor Laura!  and, after laying it, sat down
106 Lindsay s Luck.
and wrote a reply, announcing her intention of
complying with the request. Then she reopened
a letter she had just written to the tourists, who
for the past three weeks had been in Paris, and,
after inclosing a short note to Robert Lindsay, sent
it at once to Guestwick to be mailed.
Two days after this, a carriage containing Miss
Charnley and appurtenances drew up before the
iron entrance-gates of Mr. Jernyngham's town
establishment; and the visitor, after having been
received with state and ceremony, was delivered
into the hands of her friend.
Not many minutes were required to show Blanche
Charnley exactly how affairs stood. Laura looked
pale and harassed. The last two months had left
their traces upon her so unmistakably, that in the
face of her impatience, Blanche felt constrained to
pity her. But it was not until late at night, when,
having retired to their room, they were safe from
all chance of disturbance, that she brought her
energies to bear openly upon the matter in hand.
Then, having settled herself, after her usual fashion,
for a comfortable  talk, she dashed at the
subject.
"Now, Laura, she said collectedly, "be good
enough to tell me all about it.
Thus taken by surprise, Lady Laura found her
color again, and then, after twisting Geoffrey Tre-
I Dorit Know.
107
heme's ring around her finger for one nervous
moment, lost it again, and was dumb.
"My dear child, persisted Blanche, after the
manner of the most elderly and experienced of
matrons,  My dear child, there is no earthly use
in pretending now, because it is very much too
late, and we are in far too critical a position ; so
we may as well be perfectly frank and truthful—as
frank as Mr. Rob Lindsay would be himself, for
instance.
But Laura, covered with convicted guiltiness, did
not speak, perhaps in consequence of having most
unaccountably found her color once more at the
last clause of the sentence.
 So, as we are to be frank, Blanche went on,
 I may as well begin by asking you a few frank
questions, which you are under obligations to reply
to frankly, however much they may startle you.
Will you answer them, Laura ?
"Yes, answered Laura, in the lowest of obedient
voices.
 Well, said her friend,  question first: Do
you want to marry Geoffrey Treherne?
"N-o ; very low indeed.
Blanche nodded.
"I thought not, she said. "Miss Laura, no
weakness, if you £please. Question second : Do
you want to marry Robert Lindsay ?
108 Lindsays Luck.
A little cowardly catch of Laura's breath, and
then a decided dead silence.
 I will give you three chances, like the children
do, said Blanche. "There, you weak-minded
little creature. (With delightful inconsistency, in-
asmuch as Lady Laura Treshamwas by no means
a little creature.)  Once ! Do you want to marry
Robert Lindsay ? Twice ! Do you want to marry
Robert Lindsay ? Three times 
 I—don't know ! broke in her victim.  Oh,
Blanche, please don't!
 You don't know ? echoed Blanche, indignantly.
 Call yourself twenty years old, and don't know
your own mind yet! Yes, you do know, and I
know, too. You do want to marry Robert Lindsay,
and you would marry him to-morrow, if you were
not a miserable coward—afraid of Geoffrey Tre-
heme, and afraid of Mr. Jernyngham, and afraid of
every one else who is kind enough to insist that
you have not a will of your own. Oh, you ridicu-
lous little simpleton! How you do try my
patience!
In this manner, openly convicted of cowardice
and weakness, and all other capital crimes, the
fair culprit was completely subjugated, and very
naturally gave way, under the combined weight of
her misfortunes.
She was miserable, she said, in the greatest
I Don!t Know. log
depression. She was wretched. She did not want
to marry Geoffrey Treherne ; but—but how could
she help herself ? She wished she had never gone
to Northumberland !
Altogether the scene, in its thorough girlishness,
was not without its whimsical side. In the short
pause that followed this declaration, Blanche
looked into the fire, smiling a little, notwithstand-
ing her thoughfulness.
 Laura, she said, at last,  I have not yet
asked question third. When Robert Lindsay
comes to London—comes here—will you see
him ?
Laura looked up with a faint start.
 When ?  she faltered.
"I said when, answered Blanche. "And I
meant when. I have written to him, and told
him to come.
no Lindsay's Luck.
CHAPTER XI.
I WROTE IT—THREE DAYS AGO.
^ERTAINLY Blanche Charnley had her girlish
hands full during the following week. Per-
haps no young lady in the world had ever felt a
greater consciousness of secret guilt than that
beautiful arrant coward, Lady Laura Tresham,
and this consciousness rendered her by no means
the most animated of companions. She was
harassed and dejected, and even Blanche's most
spirited arguments failed to inspire her with any-
thing of courage. Consequently Blanche waited
with some impatience for Robert Lindsay's appear-
ance. She had not decided as yet what his
appearance would bring forth, or what he would
do ; but, having infinite faith in his powers, she at
least decided that he would settle the matter one
way or the other.
 If I were in your place, she said, severely, to
Laura, when she had arrived at this decision,  I
would not wait for anyone to settle my love affairs
for me. I would settle them myself. I would
write to Geoffey Treherne, and tell him that I
wouldn't marry him. I should like to know what
I Wrote It—Three Days Ago. in
calamity such a course would bring forth. You
are not a Circassian, I hope, or a Turk, or a
Chinese woman. If you are, with excessive tart-
ness,  I have not heard of it yet.
 I am not waiting for any one to settle my love
affairs, said Laura.  It is too late now, with a
little sigh.
Blanche shrugged her shoulders satirically.
"Too late ! she began.  Robert Lindsay 
Lady Laura rose from her chair, pale-faced and
subjugated, and walked to the window.
"Don't Blanche;"she exclaimed. "Don'ttalk
to me about Robert Lindsay. It is too late, and I
am miserable enough. And she had scarcely
uttered the words, before she turned paler still, and
started from the window, crying out, suddenly,
 Oh, Blanche, there he is ! 
Blanche flung down her book, and hurried to
the window, and to her excitement and delight,
her first glance fell upon the stalwart figure, which
had so often been the subject of her good-natured
admiration—the figure of Robert Lindsay in
person.
Laura drew back, excited and nervous.
"I—I can't see him, she cried. "I—I really
can't! What shall I do ?
Blanche fired in an instant like some small
order of domestic fire-work. If she was to defeat
112 Lindsay's Luck.
Geoffrey Treherne, she must defeat him now; if
she was to help this indefatigable tender-hearted
Rob, she must help him now ; if she was to save
Lady Laura from a life of half-love and slow dis-
appointment, she must save her from it this very
instant.
"You cannot see him ?  she exclaimed. "Say
you have not the courage to see him, and you
will be right once ; say you are weak-minded
enough to be wicked, and you will be right again.
You have been weak enough to treat Geoffrey
Treherne shamefully (not that he doesn't deserve
it, because he does); but you have still treated him
shamefully, "and now you are too weak to right
him, and right yourself, and right the man who
loves you, and who is worth five hundred thousand
Geoffrey Trehernes. You won't see him? with
terrible calmness.  Very well, don't see him, and
I will go back to Northumberland before breakfast
to-morrow morning, and you can marry Geoffrey
Treherne, and be wretched for life.
Lady Laura put both her hands up to her face
and covered it, her cheeks burning, her brow burn-
ing, the very tips of her ears burning; her heart
beating so loudly that she was sure the room
echoed with it.
Blanche drew from her trim belt a trim little
jewel of a watch.
I Wrote It—Three Days Ago. 113
 I will give you two minutes to decide, she
said, emphatically.  The footman will be here in
three, and if by that time you have not spoken, I
shall ring for your maid to pack my trunks.
The first minute had passed, and the second
was half gone, when Laura lifted her face, and
broke the ominous silence.
 I—I will see him, she faltered.
Blanche shut her watch with a little click, just
as the servant opened the door.
 Show the gentleman into this room, Martin,
she said ; and, as the man withdrew, she turned
to Laura.  I shall stay in the room long enough
to speak a dozen words to Mr. Lindsay, and then
I shall go downstairs, she said.  Laura, you
have no need to be afraid that you are not ready
to meet him. Your cheeks are on fire, and you
look like an angel. There, my dear, be sensible,
and think what Lady Laura Treherne would be
twenty years hence.
Laura had no time to speak. Her breath was
fairly taken by this master-stroke of rapidity and
diplomatic movement. The fact was, that if she
had had time to speak, or even to think, she would
have been so full of misgiving that she would have
upset the best-laid plans in the universe, and of
this Blanche Charnley was very well aware. But
with the shock of Blanche's sudden indignation
I
ii4 Lindsays Luck.
and that last stroke concerning Lady Laura
Treherne's future, accumulating at once, she found
herself absolutely free to let things take their own
course.
She did not know how much Blanche had written
to Robert Lindsay ; she had not even dared to
guess heretofore ; but when the two met, a full
recognition of the truth flashed upon her.
"I am not going to ask you any question now,
said Blanche, after the first greetings had been
exchanged.  I am going to leave you to say what
you have to say to Laura. Mr. Lindsay, two weeks
ago the young lady told me that she was wretched
and despairing, and guess why ? Because, if she is
not saved from it, in less than three months from
now she is to marry Geoffrey Treherne. Once you
told me that if you could save her from it, you
would ; and so, as there was no time to lose, I sent
for you. Save her if you can.
Lady Laura did not look at her visitor when
Blanche's exit left them alone. She dared not
even glance up, but waited in silence, her burning
blushes almost stinging her delicate skin. She was
thinking that this was worse than all the rest.
Rob Lindsay was thinking that this was his last
chance, and that there would be a hard struggle
before he would let it slip away from him, and be
lost.
I Wrote It—Three Days Ago. 115
 You see that I have come back again, Lady
Laura, were his first words. "And I think there
is no need of telling you why I came.
 Excuse my saying so— she said, trying to
appear cold, and quite conscious that she appeared
nervous;  but I really don't know why, Mr.
Lindsay.
 Then I suppose I must even tell you again,
Rob replied, quietly. "The reason is an old one,
Lady Laura, and one I have given more than once
before. It is a simple one, too. I came back
because I love you.
She was conscious of a sudden throb of the
smoothly-beating heart Geoffrey Treherne's
warmest words had never had the power to
stir. She was conscious, too, of a quicker pulse-
beating, and an exultant thrill ruling her in spite
of her confusion. He had not given her up after
all. He loved her yet.
 Do you understand me ?  he said again.  I
think you do, and I will tell you something else,
Lady Laura. I think if Col. Treherne were here,
he would understand too, for he is an honorable
man, at least; and I think sometimes the worst of
men are more merciful than the best of women.
I told you I loved you when we were in Northum-
berland, and I said I would not give you up ; and
I have not given you up—yet.
I 2
116 Lindsays Luck.
There was a slight pause before the last word,
and a slight stress upon it, when it was uttered,
which made Laura Tresham's heart beat hard.
She could see there was more steadiness in his
manner than there had ever been before, and she
fancied there was more bitterness, for though he
had not wholly flung aside his good-humored auda-
city, he stood before her a man who felt that to
some extent he had been wronged, and who was
now throwing his last stake,
 But I have not come back to ask you to pity
me, he went on.  Perhaps sentiment is not my
forte ; at any rate, it seems that I am always at a
loss for fair speeches. I have not come to say that
my heart will be broken, if, three months hence,
Laura Tresham is lost "to me for ever in Lady
Laura Treherne. Hearts are not easily broken in
the nineteenth century. I will not even say my
life would be blighted ; but this I will say, Lady
Laura Tresham, simply and honestly, I have loved
you—I do love you ; and the true woman who
hears such words from the lips of a gentleman,
will understand, simply and honestly, all that they
mean. The last time, he went on,  that we were
alone together at the Priory, I said to you that if
you would tell me that you loved Geoffrey Tre-
heme, I would leave you at once. You dared not
tell me so, and yet Geoffrey Treherne's ring is on
I Wrote It—Three Days Ago. 117
your finger now, and you are almost his wife. Is
that quite fair to Col. Treherne, Lady Laura ?
Asking pardon for the apparent irrelevance of the
remark, is it exactly what Basil de Tresham (whose
patrician blood is supposed to be as honorable as
it is blue) would be likely to countenance ? 
 I wish Basil de Tresham  Lady Laura
was beginning, disrespectfully, when she recollected
herself, and stopped. In her desperation she had
almost been sacrilegious.
 If you were going to say that you wished Basil
de Tresham had never been born, said Rob,
sagaciously,  I am compelled to say that my
wishes coincide with yours most heartily. I am
inclined to think that, perhaps, it would have been
as well. Ah, Laura! but for Basil de Tresham my
love would not have been audacity, and Geoffrey
Treherne's success his birthright.
But the next moment his mood changed. She
was only a girl, and she had made a mistake, and
her rashness had brought to her its own retributive
pangs, and the reproach in his tone forced them to
reveal themselves. Rob forgot his satire and his
bitterness. He crossed the hearth, and stood
before her an instant, the full strength of a man's
chivalrous love warming him, and stirring him to
his heart's core.
 Lady Laura, he said,  there are tears in your
118 Lindsay s Luck.
eyesand then in a breath's space he was down
upon one knee by her chair, with his arm around
her waist.
 Laura, he said,  I will not lose you. If I
have seemed bitter and careless, it was because I
have suffered. I cannot lose you, I say again. I
love you, and I will not let you go. It is not too
late yet. I do not ask you to say that you love
me. I only ask you to give the Treherne diamond
back to its owner, and free yourself from this
miserable engagement. I can wait for the rest.
I will wait for the rest, patiently, until you choose
to say to me that my probation is ended.
There were tears in her eyes—tears heavy and
large, and, before he had finished speaking, they
were dropping fast. Laura Tresham had not been
made for a heroine ; and her intention to immolate
herself upon the altar of her ancestral greatness
had resulted in too much of real martyrdom. It
had not been easy, at first, to determine to give up
this earnest, untiring lover for Geoffrey Treherne ;
but now it would cost her a struggle too great to
be borne. Her own natural weakness was quite as
much in favor of the earnestness and untiring zeal
as if she had been fortunate enough to be a young
lady of far less patrician antecedents. With her
trouble and excitement, and with Rob Lindsay's
strong, persuasive arm around her waist, dignity,
1 Wrote It—Three Days Ago. 119
even self-control, was out of the question ; and so
she dropped her beautiful face upon his shoulder.
 But—it—it is too late, she faltered, trembling
like a lovely coward as she was.  Oh, Robert
(with a little catch of the breath at her own teme-
rity), what could I say—to Col. Treherne?
 Say ? echoed Rob, in a glow of enthusiastic
fire.  Say to him what I should wish a woman
to say to me, if she had bound herself to me rashly.
Say to him, ' I have done you a wrong; and, by
marrying you, I should make it a crime. I do not
love you, and time has proved to me that I was
mistaken in fancying that I could; and I appeal
to you, as an honorable gentleman, to release me
from my promise.' It might not be easy to say,
Laura; but, by saying it, you could save yourself
from dishonor and wretchedness.
It is unnecessary to record all the circumstances
connected with the remainder of the interview.
Suffice it to say that, having love and tears and
vanquished pride all on his side, Robert Lindsay
gained the victory which was to bring to a con-
elusion his daring campaign, and that, upon his
departure, Lady Laura had gained courage almost
marvelously.
She went up stairs to Blanche Charnley all a-
bloom with blush roses. Blanche had been await-
ing her return with some impatience and a little
120 Lindsay s Luck.
fear, notwithstanding her faith in Rob; but, when
she saw her, she experienced an immediate sense
of relief.
"Well, she said, "does Mr. Lindsay leave Eng-
land?
Lady Laura slipped into a chair, with a soft,
expressive little sigh, and an equally expressive
little deprecating smile.
 No— she hesitated.  At least, I don't
think so. I—am going to write a letter to Col.
Treherne.
 Then you had better write it at once, advised
Blanche, "before your courage oozes out of your
finger ends, as usual, my dear.
 It—is written already, confessed her young
ladyship, with considerable confusion of manner.
 I—the fact is, Blanche, I wrote it two or three
days ago ; but—you see I was—I did not like to
seal it—then.
Blanche sprang up from her chair, her amuse-
ment and exultation getting the better of her, at
this guilelessly significant acknowledgment.
 Oh, ye daughters of men! she exclaimed
laughing until the tears started to her eyes.  Oh
fairest and most courageous of the descendants of
De Tresham ! and you did not know whether you
wanted to marry Robert Lindsay or not! 
"I have not said that I want to marry him,
I Wrote It-^Three Days Ago. 121
yet, said her ladyship, blushing more than ever,
 He—has not even asked me if I would.
 Of course not, said Blanche.  And of course
he does not know what you would say, if he did.
Oh, Laura, Laura! and you wrote it two or three
days ago !
CHAPTER. XII.
AND LAURA HELD OUT HER HAND.
'po attempt to describe Col. Treherne's astonish-
ment, when he fully comprehended the turn
affairs had taken, would be to openly display a
weakness. It would not have been like Geoffrey
Treherne to expect effusion ; and so, in the earlier
stages of the engagement, to his limited mental
vision, the coldness and brevity of the letters of
his affianced had simply implied a becoming
dignity and reserve ; and thus, as he had placidly
read them in Northumberland, he had been
placidly unconscious of how fate was working
against him in London. But there was a limit to
even Geoffrey Treherne's shortsightedness ; and
122 Lindsays Luck.
as the epistles became shorter and more signifi-
cantly cold, he had gradually awakened to some
slight sense of doubt; but still he had not
dreamed of such a finale to his dignified love-
story as this. To be worsted in such a combat,
at such a time, was bad enough ; but to be worsted
as he guessed he had been, was a terrible blow to
his arrogant pride.
Summoned by Lady Laura's letter, Geoffrey
Treherne came to London at once ; and then, but
for Blanche's presence and encouragement, Laura's
position, between her guardian's indignation and
her ex-lover's somewhat haughty displeasure,
would have completely overwhelmed her. As it
was, it was by no means a pleasant one, and the
termination of the interview between the three
tried all her resolution ; but in the end of course,
the majority on the side of love carried the day ;
and, for perhaps the first time in her wardship,
the young lady withstood the opposing power of
her guardian's eloquence. To that stately and
somewhat pompous individual his ward's un-
expected firmness was almost as astounding as
her unprecedented offence. He could not under-
stand it, and was forced to retire from the scene
a vanquished potentate, and let Treherne go back
to Northumberland with the legendary diamond
in his portmanteau.
And Laura Held out Her Hand. 123
And then, very naturally, as a consequence of
the excitement, after the interview was brought to
a close, Laura's spirits flagged again, and she was
a very dejected young lady indeed. She could not
seev Robert Lindsay now—she was not sure that
she wanted to see him at all, at first; but, on
finding that, for several days, Robert Lindsay did
not trouble her, her opinions began gradually to
change. The fact was, that Robert Lindsay was
a sagacious young man, and his experience had
taught him exactly what the result of Treherne's
visit would be ; so, for a day or so, he confined
himself to occasional evening strolls past the iron-
balconied mansion ; and it was not until the end
of the week that he entered the iron-gates.
The footman, who opened the door, knew him
as a friend of Miss Charnley's ; and when Rob
informed him, coolly, that there was no necessity
of his being announced, adding the pardonable
fiction that he was expected, he handed him,
without further ceremony, into the room where
the two young ladies were sitting.
Blanche greeted him delightedly. She was
tired of waiting for a finale, and was getting out
of patience. She had been expecting him, too,
and Laura had not; consequently, Laura rose to
meet him, flushing and paling like the loveliest of
grown-up children.
124 Lindsay s Luck.
Before half an hour had passed, Blanche dis-
creetly retired to the window with her work, and
taking a seat behind the curtains, counted her
stitches as though her life depended upon the com-
pletion of every rose-bud she worked.
Lady Laura stood upon the hearth-rug in
silence, her eyes fixed upon the fire, and, for a
few moments after Blanche's discreet move, there
was a slight lull in the conversation.
To Rob, Lady Laura Tresham had never
seemed less Lady Laura Tresham, and more
the woman he loved, than she did then. The
blaze of the fire, dancing upon the white hand
hanging idly by her side, showed it the fairest of
hands, its smooth, round wrist set in a ruffle of
web-like lace, but showed no Treherne diamond
on the slim forefinger ; and so, not being the man
to brook delay, he went to her side and took it,
this passive white hand, in his.
 So long as you wore Treherne's ring, he said
tenderly,  I only said I loved you, asking for
nothing ; but, since I knew that you no longer
wore it, I have only waited what I thought would
be your pleasure, to come to you, to speak once
again. Laura, you know what I am asking for ?
But Laura, fair traitress, said nothing.
But Rob was a frank wooer, and cared little for
her silence, since he knew what a sweet truth it
And Laura Held out Her Hand. 125
told ; and he slipped his strong arm about her
slender waist, and drew her to his side, and kissed
her, as Geoffrey Treherne would never have done,
if he had loved her a thousand years.
 I said I would wait patiently, he said, kissing
her hand, too, and then holding it to his breast as
he spoke;  and so I have waited, Laura, nearly
six days. And six days are six ages to a lover—
a lover like me, dearest. And now I have come
to you ; and as I hold you in my arms, though
you have not spoken a word to me, I can read in
your sweet face that I am not to be wretched ; and,
before Heaven, my darling, I am a happy man.
But Laura, fair hypocrite, said nothing.
 See !  he said, drawing a little case from his
pocket, and taking from it a sparkling, flashing
ring sapphire set.  See, Laura, no Norman
brought this, to be handed down, with its legend,
through generations of noble brides; no barons
have worn it, and no kings have praised it ; but I,
Rob Lindsay, who love you with my whole soul
and my whole strength, and will love you through
life and death, with a gentleman's faith and reve-
rence, ask you to answer my appeal by letting me
place it upon your hand, and, by wearing it there,
until you give me the right to claim you for my
wife.
And Laura held out her hand.
126
Lindsay's Luck.
Rob put it on, and then caught her in both his
strong arms, and kissed her again and again, until
her blushes had almost dried her tears; and
between tears and blushes she was fairer and
fresher than ever.
Then, with his arm still round her waist, Rob
took her to Blanche's window.
 Tell her, Laura, my dear !  he said, with a
touch of his old, cheerful audacity.
Lady Laura laid the hand wearing the sapphire
ring upon Blanche's shoulder.
 Blanche, dear, she said, with her most guilty,
and, at the same time, most lovely hesitation,  I
am—engaged to Mr. Lindsay.
Blanche rose with a little, happy, ghost of a
laugh; and then, of course, girl-like, broke off
with a little, happy, ghost of a sob; and then,
taking refuge in the fair face, kissed it to the full
as heartily as Rob had done.
"You see, Laura, she said to her friend that
night, when they were alone, being determined to
give her a sage moral lesson, "you see, my dear,
how exactly we grown-up children are like the
children in story-books, and how much happier we
are when we have been honest, and told the truth.
Just imagine how wretched you would have been
if you had not told the truth to Geoffrey Treherne
and Robert Lindsay.
And Laura Held out Her Hand. 12 J
Very deeply struck by this philosophical appli-
cation of a popular and much-preached conclusion,
Lady Laura glanced down at her sapphire ring,
which was sparkling beautifully in the firelight,
and drew a soft little sigh.
 Yes, dear, she said.
"And, began Blanche again, "now confess,
Laura, now that the trouble is over, are you not
just as glad as the story-book children are when
they have spoken the truth, and have just found
out how dreadfully they would have been
punished if they hadn't ? 
And the answer was another "Yes, dear.
The world frequently hears it said that Lady
Laura Lindsay is one of the happiest and most
beautiful young matrons in the shire in which her
husband has settled down, and bought an estate.
People say, too, that Mr. Lindsay is one of the
most popular of men. The country gentry, whose
pedigrees date back through centuries of nobility
and grandeur, respect and admire him. He is
popular because he is generous, daring, and
thoroughbred. He leads men whose rank might
entitle them to lead him ; and these men are his
best and nearest friends. There is astonishing
luck, they say, in this man, who has gained every-
thing that fair fortune could bestow.
128 Lindsays Luck.
But Lady Laura, in whose wifely eyes he is, of
course, a nineteenth century hero, says that her
husband's luck is simply her husband's generosity,
kindness and courage.
THE END.
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