Comedies of Courtship 
 By Anthony Hopevwvv. 
 
 The Wheel of Love. The Lady of the Pool. 
 
 The Curate of Poltons. A Three-Volume Novel. 
 
 The Philosopher in the Apple Orchard. 
 
 The Decree of Duke Deodonato 
 
 
 " It is a familiar fact that the intensity of a passion varies 
 with the proximity of the appropriate object." 
 
 —Mr. Leslie Stephen, " Science of Ethics" 
 
 11 How the devil is it that fresh features 
 Have such a charm for us poor human creatures? " 
 
 —LORD BYRON, "Don Juan" 
 
 Charles Scribner's Sons 
 New York rrrrrr 1906
 
 Copyright, 1895, by 
 Charles Scribners Sons 
 
 Copyright, 1894, 1896, by 
 Anthony Hope 
 
 TROW DIRECTORY 
 
 PRINTING AND BOOKBINDING COMPANY 
 
 NEW YORK
 
 NOTE 
 
 " The Wheel of Love," published in Scrib- 
 ner's Magazine during the past year, and "The 
 Lady of the Pool," both protected by Ameri- 
 can copyright, are here printed for the first 
 time in book form. The four other stories 
 appeared without their author's consent or 
 knowledge, with their titles changed beyond 
 recognition, and combined with other unau- 
 thorized material, in a small volume printed 
 by an American firm. They are here given 
 for the first time in their proper form and 
 
 by my authority. 
 
 Anthony Hope.
 
 CONTENTS 
 
 Page 
 
 The Wheel of Love / 
 
 The Lady of the Pool . . . . 75/ 
 
 The Curate of Poltons .... 279 
 
 A Three-Volume Novel . . . -313 
 
 The Philosopher in the Apple 
 Orchard 337 
 
 The Decree of Duke Deodonato . ^57
 
 THE WHEEL OF LOVE
 
 THE WHEEL OF LOVE 
 
 CHAPTEK I 
 
 THE VIRTUOUS HYPOCRITES 
 
 AT first sight they had as little reason 
 for being unhappy as it is possible to 
 have in a world half full of sorrow. They 
 were young- and healthy ; half a dozen times 
 they had each declared the other more than 
 common good-looking* ; they both had, and 
 never knew what it was not to have, money 
 enough for comfort and, in addition that 
 divine little superfluity wherefrom joys are 
 born. The house was good to look at and 
 good to live in ; there were horses to ride, 
 the river to go a-rowing on, and a big box 
 from Mudie's every week. No one worried 
 them ; Miss Bussey was generally visiting 
 the poor ; or, as was the case at this mo- 
 ment, asleep in her arm-chair, with Paul, 
 the terrier, in his basket beside her, and the
 
 4 COMEDIES OF COURTSHIP 
 
 cat on her lap. Lastly, they were plighted 
 lovers, and John was staying- with Miss 
 Bussey for the express purpose of delight- 
 ing- and being delighted by his fiancee, Mary 
 Travers. For these and all their mercies 
 certainly they should have been truly thank- 
 ful. 
 
 However the heart of man is wicked. 
 This fact alone can explain why Mary sat 
 sadly in the drawing-room, feeling a letter 
 that was tucked inside her waistband and 
 John strode moodily up and down the 
 gravel walk, a cigar, badly bitten, between 
 his teeth, and his hand ever and again 
 covertly stealing toward his breast-pocket 
 and pressing a scented note that lay there. 
 In the course of every turn John would pass 
 the window of the drawing - room ; then 
 Mary would look up with a smile and blow 
 him a kiss, and he nodded and laughed 
 and returned the salute. But, the window 
 passed, both sighed deeply and returned to 
 fingering those hidden missives. 
 
 " Poor little girl ! I must keep it up," 
 said John. 
 
 "Dear good John! He must never 
 know," thought Mary.
 
 THE WHEEL OF LOVE 5 
 
 And the two fell to thinking just what 
 was remarked a few lines back, namely, that 
 the human heart is very wicked ; they were 
 shocked at themselves ; the young often 
 are. 
 
 Miss Bussey awoke, sat up, evicted the 
 cat, and found her spectacles. 
 
 " Where are those children ? " said she. 
 " Billing and cooing somewhere, I suppose. 
 Bless me, why don't they get tired of it ? " 
 
 They had — not indeed of billing and coo- 
 ing in general, for no one at their age does 
 or ought to get tired of that — but of billing 
 and cooing with one another. 
 
 It will be observed that the situation 
 promised well for a tragedy. Nevertheless 
 this is not the story of an unhappy mar- 
 riage. 
 
 If there be one thing which Government 
 should forbid, it is a secret engagement. 
 Engagements should be advertised as mar- 
 riages are ; but unless we happen to be per- 
 sons of social importance, or considerable 
 notoriety, no such precautions are taken. 
 Of course there are engagement rings ; but 
 a man never knows one when he sees it on 
 a lady's hand — it would indeed be imperti-
 
 6 COMEDIES OF COURTSHIP 
 
 nent to look too closely — and when he goes 
 out alone he generally' puts his in his 
 pocket, considering that the evening will 
 thus be rendered more enjoyable. The 
 Ashforth-Travers engagement was not a 
 secret now, but it had been, and had been 
 too long. Hence, when Mary went to Scot- 
 land and met Charlie Ellerton, and when 
 John went to Switzerland and met Dora 
 Bellairs— the truth is, they ought never to 
 have separated, and Miss Bussey (who was 
 one of the people in the secret) had been 
 quite right when she remarked ttyat it 
 seemed a curious arrangement. John and 
 Mary had scoffed at the idea of a few weeks' 
 absence having any effect on their feelings 
 except, if indeed it were possible, that of 
 intensifying them. 
 
 "I really think I ought to go and find 
 them," said Miss Bussey. " Come, Paul ! " 
 
 She took a parasol, for the April sun was 
 bright, and went into the garden. When 
 she came to the drawing-room window John 
 was away at the end of the walk. She 
 looked at him : he was reading a letter. 
 She looked in at the window : Mary was 
 reading- a letter.
 
 THE WHEEL OF LOVE 7 
 
 " Well ! " exclaimed Miss Bussey. " Have 
 they had a tiff ? " And she slowly waddled 
 (truth imposes this word — she was very 
 stout) toward the unconscious John. He 
 advanced toward her still reading ; not only 
 did he not see her, but he failed to notice 
 that Paul had got under his feet. He fell 
 over Paul, and as he stumbled the let- 
 ter fluttered out of his hand. Paul seized 
 it and began to toss it about in great 
 glee. 
 
 " Good doggie ! " cried Miss Bussey. 
 " Come then ! Bring it to me, dear. Good 
 Paul ! " 
 
 John's face was distorted with agony. 
 He darted toward Paul, fell on him, and 
 gripped him closely. Paul yelped and 
 Miss Bussey observed, in an indignant tone, 
 that John need not throttle the dog. John 
 muttered something. 
 
 " Is the letter so very precious ? " asked 
 his hostess ironically. 
 
 " Precious ! " cried John. " Yes ! — No ! — 
 It's nothing at all." 
 
 But he opened Paul's mouth and took out 
 his treasure with wonderful care. 
 
 "And why," inquired Miss Bussey, "are
 
 8 COMEDIES OF COURTSHIP 
 
 you not with Mary, young man? You're 
 very neglectful." 
 
 " Neglectful ! Surely, Miss Bussey, you 
 haven't noticed anything like neglect ? 
 Don't say •" 
 
 " Bless the boy ! I was only joking. 
 You're a model lover." 
 
 " Thank you, thank you. I'll go to her 
 at once," and he sped towards the window, 
 opened it and walked up to Mary. Miss 
 Bussey followed him and arrived just in 
 time to see the lovers locked in one anoth- 
 er's arms, their faces expressing all appro- 
 priate rapture. 
 
 " There's nothing much wrong," said Miss 
 Bussey ; wherein Miss Bussey herself was 
 much wrong. 
 
 " What a shame ! I've left you alone for 
 more than an hour ! " said John. " Have you 
 been very unhappy ? " and he added, " dar- 
 ling." It sounded like an afterthought. 
 
 " I have been rather unhappy," answered 
 Mary, and her answer was true. As she 
 said it she tucked in a projecting edge of 
 her letter. John had hurriedly slipped his 
 (it was rather the worse for its mauling) into 
 his trousers-pocket.
 
 THE WHEEL OF LOVE 9 
 
 " You — you didn't think me neglectful ? " 
 
 " Oh, no." 
 
 " I was thinking 1 of you all the time." 
 
 "And I was thinking- of you, dear." 
 
 " Are you very happy ? " 
 
 " Yes, John ; aren't you ? " 
 
 " Of course I am. Happy ! I should think 
 so," and he kissed her with unimpeachable 
 fervor. 
 
 When a conscientious person makes up 
 his mind that he ought, for good reasons, to 
 deceive somebody, there is no one like him 
 for thorough-paced hypocrisy. "When two 
 conscientious people resolve to deceive one 
 another, on grounds of duty, the acme of 
 duplicity is in a fair way to be reached. 
 John Ashforth and Mary Travers illustrated 
 this proposition. The former had been all 
 his life a good son, and was now a trust- 
 worthy partner, to his father, who justly re- 
 lied no less on his character than on his 
 brains. The latter, since her parents' early 
 death had left her to her aunt's care, had 
 been the comfort and prop of Miss Bussey's 
 life. It is difficult to describe good people 
 without making them seem dull ; but luck- 
 ily nature is defter than novelists, and it is
 
 10 COMEDIES OF COURTSHIP 
 
 quite possible to be good without being 
 dull. Neither Mary nor John was dull ; a 
 trifle limited, perhaps, they were, a thought 
 severe in their judgments of others as well 
 as of themselves ; a little exacting with 
 their friends and more than a little with 
 themselves. One description paints them 
 both ; doubtless their harmony of mind had 
 contributed more than Mary's sweet expres- 
 sion and finely cut features, or John's up- 
 standing six feet, and honest capable face, 
 to produce that attachment between them 
 which had, six months before this story 
 begins, culminated in their engagement. 
 Once arrived at, this ending seemed to have 
 been inevitable. Everybody discovered that 
 they had foretold it from the first, and mod- 
 estly disclaimed any credit for anticipating 
 a union between a couple so obviously made 
 for one another. 
 
 The distress into which lovers such as 
 these fell when they discovered by personal 
 experience that sincerely to vow eternal 
 love is one thing, and sincerely to give it 
 quite another, may be well imagined, and 
 may well be left to be imagined. They both 
 went through a terrible period of tempta-
 
 THE WHEEL OF LOVE 11 
 
 tion, wherein they listened longingly to the 
 seductive pleading of their hearts ; but both 
 emerged triumphant, resolved to stifle their 
 mad fancy, to prefer good faith to mere in- 
 clination, and to avoid, at all costs, wound- 
 ing one to whom they had sworn to be true. 
 Thus far their steadfastness carried them, 
 but not beyond. They could part from their 
 loved ones, and they did ; but they could 
 not leave them without a word. Each wrote, 
 after leaving Scotland and Switzerland re- 
 spectively, a few lines of adieu, confessing 
 the love they felt, but with resolute sadness 
 saying farewell for ever. They belonged to 
 another. 
 
 It was the answers that Mary and John 
 were reading when Miss Bussey discovered 
 them. 
 
 Mary's ran : 
 
 " My Dear Miss Travers : I have received 
 your letter. I can't tell you what it means 
 to me. You say all must be over between 
 us. Don't be offended — but I won't say that 
 yet. It can't be your duty to marry a man 
 you don't love. You forbid me to write or 
 come to you ; and you ask only for a word
 
 12 COMEDIES OF COURTSHIP 
 
 of good-by. I won't say good-by. I'll say 
 
 An revoir — au revoir, my darling. 
 
 " Charlie. 
 '•' Burn this." 
 
 This was John's : 
 
 " My Dear Mr. Ashforth : What am I to 
 say to you ? Oh, why, why didn't you tell me 
 before ? I oughtn't to say that, but it is too 
 late to conceal anything from you. Yes, you 
 are right. It must be good-by. Yes, I will 
 try to forget you. But oh, John, it's very, 
 very, very difficult. I don't know how to sign 
 this — so I won't. You'll know who it comes 
 from, won't you ? Good-by. Burn this." 
 
 These letters, no doubt, make it plain that 
 there had been at least a momentary weak- 
 ness both in Mary and in John ; but in a 
 true and charitable view their conduct in 
 rising superior to temptation finally was all 
 the more remarkable and praiseworthy. 
 They had indeed, for the time, been carried 
 away. Even now Mary found it hard not to 
 make allowances for herself, little as she 
 was prone to weakness when she thought 
 of the impetuous abandon and conquering
 
 THE WHEEL OF LOVE 13 
 
 whirl with which Charlie Ellerton had 
 wooed her ; and John confessed that flight 
 alone, a hasty flight from Interlaken after a 
 certain evening spent in gazing at the 
 Jungfrau, had saved him from casting 
 everything to the winds and yielding to 
 the slavery of Dora Bellairs's sunny smiles 
 and charming coquetries. He had always 
 thought that that sort of girl had no at- 
 tractions for him, just as Mary had despised 
 " butterfly - men " like Charlie Ellerton. 
 "Well, they were wrong. The only comfort 
 was that shallow natures felt these sorrows 
 less ; it would have broken Mary's heart 
 (thought John), or John's (thought Mary), 
 but Dora and Charlie would soon find con- 
 solation in another. But here, oddly enough, 
 John generally swore heartily and Mary al- 
 ways began to search for her handkerchief. 
 " They're as affectionate as one could wish 
 when they're together," mused Miss Bus- 
 sey, as she stroked the cat, " but at other 
 times they're gloomy company. I suppose 
 they can't be happy apart. Dear ! dear ! " 
 And the good old lady fell to wondering 
 whether she had ever been so foolish her- 
 self.
 
 CHAPTER II 
 
 SYMPATHY IN SORROW 
 
 " Give me," observed Sir Roger Deane, 
 " Cannes, a fine day, a good set to look at, 
 a beehive chair, a good cigar, a cocktail on 
 one side and a nice girl on the other, and 
 there I am ! I don't want anything else." 
 
 General Bellairs pulled his white mus- 
 tache and examined Sir Roger's figure and 
 surroundings with a smile. 
 
 " Then only Lady Deane is wanting to 
 your complete happiness," said he. 
 
 " Maud is certainly a nice girl, but when 
 she deserts me " 
 
 " Where is she ? " 
 
 " I don't know." 
 
 "I do," interposed a young man, who 
 wore an eye-glass and was in charge of a 
 large jug. " She's gone to Monte." 
 
 "I might have known," said Sir Roger. 
 " Being missed here always means you've
 
 THE WHEEL OF LOVE 15 
 
 gone to Monte — like not being at church 
 means you've gone to Brighton." 
 
 " Surely she doesn't play ? " asked the 
 General. 
 
 " Not she ! She's going to put it in a 
 book. She writes books you know. She 
 put me in the last — made me a dashed fool, 
 too, by Jove ! " 
 
 " That was unkind," said the General, 
 "from your wife." 
 
 " Oh, Lord love you, she didn't mean it. 
 I was the hero. That's how I came to be 
 such an ass. The dear girl meant every- 
 thing that was kind. Who's taken her to 
 Monte ? " 
 
 " Charlie Ellerton," said the young man 
 with the eye-glass. 
 
 " There ! I told you she was a kind girl. 
 She's trying to pull old Charlie up a peg or 
 two. He's had the deuce of a facer, you 
 know." 
 
 " I thought he seemed less cheerful than 
 usual." 
 
 " Oh, rather. He met a girl somewhere 
 or other — I always forget places — Miss — 
 Miss — hang it, I can't remember names — 
 and got awfully smitten, and everything
 
 16 COMEDIES OF COURTSHIP 
 
 went pleasantly and she took to him like 
 anything, and at last old Charlie spoke up 
 
 like a man, and " Sir Roger paused 
 
 dramatically. 
 
 " Well ? " asked the General. 
 
 " She was engaged to another fellow. 
 Rough, wasn't it ? She told old Charlie she 
 liked him infernally, but promises were 
 promises, don't you know, and she'd thank 
 him to take his hook. And he had to take 
 it, by Gad ! Rough, don't you know ? So 
 Maud's been cheering him up. The devil ! " 
 
 " What's the matter now ? " inquired the 
 General. 
 
 " Why, I've just remembered that I prom- 
 ised to say nothing about it. I say, don't 
 you repeat it, General, nor you either, 
 Laing." 
 
 The General laughed. 
 
 " Well," said Sir Roger, " he oughtn't to 
 have been such a fool as to tell me. He 
 knows I never remember to keep things 
 dark. It's not my fault." 
 
 A girl came out of the hotel and strolled 
 up to where the group was. She was dark, 
 slight, and rather below middle height ; her 
 complexion at this moment was a trifle sal-
 
 THE WHEEL OF LOVE 17 
 
 low and her eyes listless, but it seemed 
 rather as though she had dressed her face 
 into a tragic cast, the set of the features be- 
 ing naturally mirthful. She acknowledged 
 the men's salutations and sat down with a 
 sigh. 
 
 " Not on to-day ? " asked Sir Koger, wav- 
 ing his cigar toward the lawn-tennis courts. 
 
 " No," said Miss Bellairs. 
 
 "Are you seedy, Dolly?" inquired the 
 General. 
 
 " No," said Miss Bellairs. 
 
 Mr. Laing fixed his eye-glass and sur- 
 veyed the young lady. 
 
 " Are you taking any ? " said he, indicat- 
 ing the jug. 
 
 " I don't see any fun in vulgarity," ob- 
 served Miss Bellairs. 
 
 The General smiled. Sir Roger's lips as- 
 sumed the shape for a whistle. 
 
 " That's a nasty one for me," said Laing. 
 
 "Ah, here you are, Roger," exclaimed a 
 
 fresh clear voice from behind the chairs. 
 
 "I've been looking for you everywhere. 
 
 We've seen everything — Mr. Ellerton was 
 
 most kind — and I do so want to tell you my 
 
 impressions." 
 2
 
 18 COMEDIES OF COURTSHIP 
 
 The new-comer was Lady Deane, a tall 
 young woman, plainly dressed in a servicea- 
 ble cloth walking-gown. By her side stood 
 Charlie Ellerton in a flannel suit of pro- 
 nounced striping ; he wore a little yellow 
 mustache, had blue eyes and curly hair, and 
 his face was tanned a wholesome ruddy- 
 brown. He looked very melancholy. 
 
 "Letters from Hell," murmured Sir 
 Roger. 
 
 " But I was so distressed," continued his 
 wife. " Mr. Ellerton would gamble, and he 
 lost ever so much money." 
 
 "A fellow must amuse himself," remarked 
 Charlie gloomily, and with apparent uncon- 
 sciousness he took a glass from Laing and 
 drained it. 
 
 " Gambling and drink — what does that 
 mean ? " asked Sir Roger. 
 
 " Shut up, Deane," said Charlie. 
 
 Miss Bellairs rose suddenly and walked 
 away. Her movement expressed impatience 
 with her surroundings. After a moment 
 Charlie Ellerton slowly sauntered after her. 
 She sat down on a garden-seat some way 
 off. Charlie placed himself at the opposite 
 end. A long pause ensued.
 
 THE WHEEL OF LOVE 19 
 
 " I'm afraid I'm precious poor company," 
 said Charlie. 
 
 "I didn't want you to be company at all," 
 answered Miss Bellairs, and she sloped her 
 parasol until it obstructed his view of her 
 face. 
 
 " I'm awfully sorry, but I can't stand the 
 sort of rot Deane and Laing are talking." 
 
 " Can't you ? Neither can I." 
 
 " The} 7 never seem to be serious about 
 anything, you know," and Charlie sighed 
 deeply, and for three minutes there was 
 silence. 
 
 " Do you know Scotland at all ? " asked 
 Charlie at last. 
 
 " Only a little." 
 
 " There last year ? " 
 
 " No, I was in Switzerland." 
 
 " Oh." 
 
 " Do you know Interlaken ? ' 
 
 "No." 
 
 " Oh." 
 
 " May I have a cigarette ? " 
 
 " Of course, if you like." 
 
 Charlie lit his cigarette and smoked si- 
 lently for a minute or two. 
 
 " I call this a beastly place," said he.
 
 20 COMEDIES OF COURTSHIP 
 
 " Yes, horrid," she answered, and the 
 force of sympathy made her move the para- 
 sol and turn her face towards her companion. 
 " But I thought," she continued, " you came 
 here every spring?" 
 
 " Oh, I don't mind the place so much. It's 
 the people." 
 
 " Yes, isn't it ? I know what you mean." 
 
 " You can't make a joke of everything, can 
 
 you?" 
 
 " Indeed no," sighed Dora. 
 
 Charlie looked at his cigarette, and, his 
 eyes carefully fixed on it, said in a timid 
 tone : 
 
 " What's the point, for instance, of talking 
 as if love was all bosh ? " 
 
 Dora's parasol swept down again swiftly, 
 but Charlie was still looking at the cigarette 
 and he did not notice its descent, nor could 
 he see that Miss Bellairs's cheek was no 
 longer sallow. 
 
 " It's such cheap rot," he continued, " and 
 when a fellow's — I say, Miss Bellairs, I'm 
 not boring you ? " 
 
 The parasol wavered and finally moved. 
 
 " No," said Miss Bellairs. 
 
 " I don't know whether you — no, I mustn't
 
 THE WHEEL OF LOVE 21 
 
 say that ; but I know what it is to be in love, 
 Miss Bellairs ; but what's the good of talk- 
 ing 1 about it ? Everybody laughs." 
 
 Miss Bellairs put down her parasol. 
 
 " I shouldn't laugh," she said softly. " It's 
 horrid to laugh at people when they're in 
 trouble," and her eyes were very sympa- 
 thetic. 
 
 "You are kind. I don't mind talking 
 about it to you. You know I'm not the sort 
 of fellow who falls in love with every girl he 
 meets ; so of course it's worse when I do." 
 
 " Was it just lately ? " murmured Dora. 
 
 " Last summer." 
 
 " Ah ! And— and didn't she ? " 
 
 " Oh, I don't know. Yes, hang it, I be- 
 lieve she did. She was perfectly straight, 
 Miss Bellairs. I don't say a word against 
 her. She — I think she didn't know her own 
 feelings until — until I spoke, you know — 
 and then " 
 
 " Do go on, if — if it doesn't " 
 
 " Why, then, the poor girl cried and said 
 it couldn't be because she — she was en- 
 gaged to another fellow ; and she sent me 
 away." 
 
 Miss Bellairs was listening attentively.
 
 22 COMEDIES OF COURTSHIP 
 
 " And," continued Charlie, " she wrote and 
 said it must be good-by and — and " 
 
 " And you think she ? " 
 
 " She told me so," whispered Charlie. 
 " She said she couldn't part without telling 
 me. Oh, I say, Miss Bellairs, isn't it all 
 damnable ? I beg your pardon." 
 
 Dora was tracing little figures on the 
 gravel with her parasol. 
 
 " Now what would you do ? " cried Charlie. 
 " She loves me, I know she does, and she's 
 going to marry this other fellow because she 
 promised him first. I don't suppose she 
 knew what love was then." 
 
 " Oh, I'm sure she didn't," exclaimed Dora 
 earnestly. 
 
 " You can't blame her, you know. And 
 it's absurd to — to — to — not to — well, to 
 marry a fellow you don't care for when you 
 care for another fellow, you know ! " 
 
 "Yes." 
 
 " Of course you can hardly imagine your- 
 self in that position, but suppose a man 
 liked you and — and was placed like that, you 
 know, what should you feel you ought to 
 do?" 
 
 " Oh, I don't know," exclaimed Dora,
 
 THE WHEEL OF LOVE 23 
 
 clasping her hands. " Oh, do tell me what 
 you think ! I'd give the world to know ! " 
 
 Charlie's surprised glance warned her of 
 her betrayal. " You mustn't ask me," she 
 exclaimed hastily. 
 
 " I won't ask a word. I — I'm awfully 
 sorry, Miss Bellairs." 
 
 " Nobody knows," she murmured. 
 
 " Nobody shall through me." 
 
 "You're not very — ? I'm very asham'ect." 
 
 " Why ? And because of me ! After wnat 
 I've told you ! " 
 
 Charlie rose suddenly. 
 
 "I'm not going to stand it," lie an- 
 nounced. 
 
 Dora looked up eagerly. 
 
 " What ? You're going to ? " 
 
 " I'm going to have a shot at it. Am I to 
 
 stand by and see her ? I'm hanged if I 
 
 do. Could that be right?" 
 
 " I should like to know what one's duty 
 is?" 
 
 " This talk with you has made me quite 
 clear. We've reasoned it out, you see. 
 They're not to be married for two or three 
 months. A lot can be done in that time." 
 
 " Ah, you're a man ! "
 
 24 COMEDIES OF COURTSHIP 
 
 " I shall write first. If that doesn't do, I 
 shall go to her." 
 
 Dora shook her head mournfully. 
 
 " Now, look here, Miss Bellairs— you don't 
 mind me advising- you ? " 
 
 " I ought not to have let you see, but as 
 it is " 
 
 " You do as I do, you stick to it. Con- 
 found it, you know, when one's life's happi- 
 ness is at stake " 
 
 "Oh, yes, yes!" 
 
 " One mustn't be squeamish, must one ? " 
 
 And Dora Bellairs, in a very low whisper, 
 answered, "No." 
 
 " I shall write to-night." 
 
 "Oh! To-night?" 
 
 " Yes. Now promise me you will too." 
 
 " It's harder for me than you." 
 
 " Not if he really " 
 
 " Oh, indeed, he really does, Mr. Eller- 
 ton." 
 
 " Then you'll write ? " 
 
 " Perhaps." 
 
 " No. Promise ! " 
 
 " Well— it must be right. Yes, I will." 
 
 "I feel the better for our talk, Miss Bel- 
 lairs, don't you ? "
 
 THE WHEEL OF LOVE 25 
 
 "Idoa little." 
 
 " We shall be friends now, you know ; 
 even if I bring it off I shan't be content un- 
 less you do too. Won't you give me your 
 good wishes ? " 
 
 " Indeed I will." 
 
 " Shake hands on it." 
 
 They shook hands and began to stroll 
 back to the tennis-courts. 
 
 " They look a little better," observed Sir 
 Koger Deane, who had been listening to 
 an eloquent description of the gaming- 
 tables. 
 
 Dora and Charlie walked on towards the 
 hotel. 
 
 "Hi!" shouted Sir Eoger. "Tea's com- 
 ing out here." 
 
 " I've got a letter to write," said Charlie. 
 
 "Well, Miss Bellairs, you must come. 
 Who's to pour it out ? " 
 
 " I must catch the post, Sir Roger," an- 
 swered Dora. 
 
 They went into the house together. In 
 the hall they parted. 
 
 "You'll let me know what happens, Mr. 
 Ellerton, won't you ? I'm so interested." 
 
 " And you ? "
 
 26 COMEDIES OF COURTSHIP 
 
 " Oh — well, perhaps," and the sallow of 
 her cheeks had turned to a fine dusky red as 
 she ran upstairs. 
 
 Thus it happened that a second letter for 
 John Ashforth and a second letter for Mary 
 Travers left Cannes that night. 
 
 And if it seems a curious coincidence that 
 Dora and Charlie should meet at Cannes, it 
 can only be answered that they were each of 
 them just as likely to be at Cannes as any- 
 where else. Besides, who knows that these 
 things are all coincidence ?
 
 CHAPTER III 
 
 A PROVIDENTIAL DISCLOSUEE 
 
 On Wednesday the eleventh of April, 
 John Ashforth rose from his bed full of a 
 great and momentous resolution. There is 
 nothing very strange in that, perhaps ; it is 
 just the time of day when such things come 
 to a man, and, in ordinary cases, they are 
 very prone to disappear with the relics of 
 breakfast. But John was of sterner stuff. 
 He had passed a restless night, tossed to 
 and fro by very disturbing gusts of emotion, 
 and he arose with the firm conviction that if 
 he would escape shipwreck he must secure 
 his bark by immovable anchors while he 
 was, though not in honor, yet in law and 
 fact, free ; he could not trust himself. Sor- 
 rowfully admitting his weakness, he turned 
 to the true, the right, the heroic remedy. 
 
 " I'll marry Mary to-day fortnight," said 
 he. "When we are man and wife I shall
 
 28 COMEDIES OF COURTSHIP 
 
 forget this madness and love her as I used 
 to." 
 
 He went down to breakfast, ate a bit of 
 toast and drank a cup of very strong" tea. 
 Presently Mary appeared and greeted him 
 with remarkable tenderness. His heart 
 smote him, and his remorse strengthened 
 his determination. 
 
 " I want to speak to you after breakfast," 
 he told her. 
 
 His manner was so significant that a sud- 
 den gleam of hope flashed into her mind. 
 Could it be that he had seen, that he would 
 be generous ? She banished the shameful 
 hope. She would not accept generosity at 
 the expense of pain to him. 
 
 Miss Bussey, professing to find bed the 
 best place in the world, was in the habit of 
 taking her breakfast there. The lovers were 
 alone, and, the meal ended, they passed to- 
 gether into the conservatory. Mary sat 
 down and John leant against the glass door 
 opposite her. 
 
 " Well ? " said she, smiling at him. 
 
 It suddenly struck John that, in a scene 
 of this nature, it ill-befitted him to stand 
 three yards from the lady. He took a chair
 
 THE WHEEL OF LOVE 29 
 
 and drew it close beside her. The thing had 
 to be done and it should be done properly. 
 
 " We've made a mistake, Mary," he an- 
 nounced, taking- her hand and speaking in a 
 rallying tone. 
 
 " A mistake ! " she cried ; " oh, how ? " 
 
 " In fixing our marriage •" 
 
 " So soon ? " 
 
 " My darling ! " said John (and it was im- 
 possible to deny admiration to the tone he 
 said it in), " no. So late ! What are we 
 waiting for ? Why are we wasting all this 
 precious time ? " 
 
 Mary could not speak, but consternation 
 passed for an appropriate confusion, and 
 John pursued his passionate pleadings. As 
 Mary felt his grasp and looked into his hon- 
 est eyes, her duty lay plain before her. She 
 would not stoop to paltry excuses on the 
 score of clothes, invitations, or such trifles. 
 She had made up her mind to the thing ; 
 surely she ought to do it in the way most 
 gracious and most pleasing to her lover. 
 
 " If Aunt consents," she murmured at 
 last, " do as you like, John dear," and the 
 embrace which each felt to be inevitable at 
 such a crisis passed between them.
 
 30 COMEDIES OF COURTSHIP 
 
 A discreet cough separated them. The 
 butler stood in the doorway, with two letters 
 on a salver. One he handed to Mary, the 
 other to John, and walked away with a twin- 
 kle in his eye. However even our butlers 
 do not know everything- that happens in 
 our houses (to say nothing of our hearts), 
 although much they may think they do. 
 
 John looked at his letter, started violently 
 and crushed it into his pocket. He glanced 
 at Mary ; her letter lay neglected on her 
 lap. She was looking steadily out of the 
 window. 
 
 "Well, that's settled," said John. "I— I 
 think I'll have a cigar, dear." 
 
 "Yes, do, darling," said Mary, and John 
 went out. 
 
 These second letters were unfortunately 
 so long as to make it impossible to repro- 
 duce them. They were also very affecting, 
 Dora's from its pathos, Charlie's from its 
 passion. But the waves of emotion beat 
 fruitlessly on the rock-built walls of con- 
 science. At almost the same moment, Mary, 
 brushing away a tear, and John, blowing 
 his nose, sat down to write a brief, a final 
 answer. " We are to be married to-day fort-
 
 THE WHEEL OF LOVE 31 
 
 night," they said. They closed the envel- 
 opes without a moment's delay and went to 
 drop their letters in the box. The servant 
 was already waiting 1 to go to the post with 
 them and a second later the fateful docu- 
 ments were on their way to Cannes. 
 
 " Now," said John, with a ghastly smile, 
 "we can have a glorious long- day to- 
 gether ! " 
 
 Mary was determined to leave herself no 
 loophole. 
 
 " We must tell Aunt what — what we have 
 decided upon this morning," she reminded 
 him. " It means that the wedding must be 
 very quiet." 
 
 " I shan't mind that. Shall you ? " 
 
 " I shall like it of all things," she an- 
 swered. " Come and find Aunt Sarah." 
 
 Miss Bussey had always — or at least for 
 a great many years back — maintained the 
 general proposition that young people do 
 not know their own minds. This morning's 
 news confirmed her opinion. 
 
 "Why the other day you both agreed 
 that the middle of June would do perfect- 
 ly. Now you want it all done in a scram- 
 ble."
 
 32 COMEDIES OF COURTSHIP 
 
 The pair stood before her, looking 1 very 
 guilty. 
 
 " What is the meaning of this — this [she 
 very nearly said " indecent "] extraordinary 
 haste ? " 
 
 Miss Bussey asked only one indulgence 
 from her friends. Before she did a kind 
 thing she liked to be allowed to say one or 
 two sharp ones. Her niece was aware of 
 this fancy of hers and took refuge in silence. 
 John, less experienced in his hostess's ways, 
 launched into the protests appropriate to an 
 impatient lover. 
 
 " Well," said Miss Bussey, " I must say 
 you look properly ashamed of yourself 
 [John certainly did], so I'll see what can be 
 done. What a fluster we shall live in ! 
 Upon my word you might as well have made 
 it to-morrow. The fuss would have been no 
 worse and a good deal shorter." 
 
 The next few days passed, as Miss Bus- 
 sey had predicted, in a fluster. Mary was 
 running after dress - makers, John after 
 licences, Cook's tickets, a best man, and 
 all the impedimenta of a marriage. The 
 intercourse of the lovers was much inter- 
 rupted, and to this Miss Bussey attributed
 
 THE WHEEL OF LOVE 33 
 
 the low spirits that Mary sometimes dis- 
 played. 
 
 " There, there, my dear," she would say 
 impatiently — for the cheerful old lady hated 
 long- faces — " you'll have enough of him and 
 to spare by and by." 
 
 Curiously this point of view did not com- 
 fort Mary. She liked John very much, she 
 esteemed him even more than she liked 
 him, he would, she thought, have made an 
 ideal brother. Ah, why had she not made a 
 brother of him while there was time ? Then 
 she would have enjoyed his constant friend- 
 ship all her life ; for it was not with him as 
 with that foolish boy Charlie, all or noth- 
 ing. John was reasonable ; he would not 
 have threatened — well, reading his letter 
 one way, Charlie almost seemed to be tam- 
 pering with propriety. John would never 
 have done that. And these reflections, all 
 of which should have pleaded for John, 
 ended in weeping over the lost charms of 
 Charlie. 
 
 One evening, just a week before the wed- 
 ding, she roused herself from some such 
 sad meditations, and, duty-driven, sought 
 John in the smoking-room. The door was
 
 34 COMEDIES OF COURTSHIP 
 
 half open and she entered noiselessly. John 
 was sitting at the table ; his arms were out- 
 spread on it, and his face buried in his 
 hands. Thinking- he was asleep she ap- 
 proached on tiptoe and leant over his shoul- 
 der. As she did so her eyes fell on a sheet 
 of note-paper ; it was clutched in John's 
 right hand, and the encircling grasp cov- 
 ered it, save at the top. The top was vis- 
 ible, and Mary, before she knew what she 
 was doing, had read the embossed heading 
 — nothing else, just the embossed heading 
 — Hotel de Luxe, Cannes, Alpes Maritimes. 
 
 The drama teaches us how often a guilty 
 mind rushes, on some trifling cause, to self- 
 revelation. Like a flash came the convic- 
 tion that Charlie had written to John, that 
 her secret was known, and John's heart 
 broken. In a moment she fell on her knees 
 crying, 
 
 " Oh, how wicked I've been ! Forgive 
 me, do forgive me ! Oh, John, can you for- 
 give me ? " 
 
 John was not asleep, he also was merely 
 meditating ; but if he had been a very Rip 
 Van Winkle this cry of agony would have 
 roused him. He started violently — as well
 
 THE WHEEL OF LOVE 35 
 
 he might— from his seat, looked at Mary, 
 and crumpled the letter into a shapeless 
 ball. 
 
 " You didn't see ? " he asked hoarsely. 
 
 " No, but I know. I mean I saw the head- 
 ing, and knew it must be from him. Oh, 
 John ! " 
 
 " From Mm ! " 
 
 "Yes. He's — he's staying there. Oh, 
 John ! Really I'll never see or speak to him 
 again. Really I won't. Oh, you can trust 
 me, John. See ! I'll hide nothing. Here's 
 his letter ! You see I've sent him away ? " 
 
 And she took from her pocket Charlie's 
 letter, and in her noble fidelity (to John — 
 the less we say about poor Charlie the better) 
 handed it to him. 
 
 " What's this ? " asked John, in bewilder- 
 ment. " Who's it from ? " 
 
 " Charlie Ellerton," she stammered. 
 
 " Who's Charlie Ellerton ? I never heard 
 — but am I to read it ? " 
 
 " Yes, please, I — I think you'd better." 
 
 John read it ; Mary followed his eyes, and 
 the moment they reached the end, without 
 giving him time to speak, she exclaimed, 
 
 " There, you see I spoke the truth. I had
 
 36 COMEDIES OF COURTSHIP 
 
 sent him away. What does he say to you, 
 John ? " 
 
 " I never heard of him in my life before." 
 
 " John ! Then who is your letter from ? " 
 
 He hesitated. He felt an impulse to imi- 
 tate her candor, but prudence suggested 
 that he should be sure of his ground first. 
 
 " Tell me all," he said, sitting down. 
 " Who is this man, and what has he to do 
 with you ? " 
 
 " Why don't you show me his letter ? I 
 don't know what he's said about me." 
 
 " What could he say about you ? " 
 
 " Well he — he might say that — that I cared 
 for him, John." 
 
 " And do you ? " demanded John, and his 
 voice was anxious. 
 
 Duty demanded a falsehood ; Mary did 
 her very best to satisfy its imperious com- 
 mands. It was no use. 
 
 " Oh, John," she murmured, and then be- 
 gan to cry. 
 
 For a moment wounded pride struggled 
 with John's relief ; but then a glorious vi- 
 sion of what this admission of Mary's might 
 mean to him swept away his pique. 
 
 " Read this," he said, giving her Dora
 
 THE WHEEL OF LOVE 37 
 
 Bellairs's letter, "and then we'll have an 
 explanation." 
 
 Half an hour later Miss Bussey was roused 
 from a pleasant snooze. John and Mary- 
 stood beside her, hand in hand. They were 
 brother and sister now — that was an integral 
 part of the arrangement — and so they stood 
 hand in hand. Their faces were radiant. 
 
 " We came to tell you, Auntie dear, that 
 we have decided that we're not suited to one 
 another," began Mary. 
 
 " Not at all," said John decisively. 
 
 Miss Bussey stared helplessly from one to 
 the other. 
 
 "It's all right, Miss Bussey," remarked 
 John cheerfully. "We've had an explana- 
 tion; we part by mutual consent." 
 
 "John," said Mary, "is to be just my 
 brother and I his sister. Oh, and Auntie, I 
 want to go with him to Cannes." 
 
 This last suggestion, which naturally did 
 not appear to any well-regulated mind to 
 harmonize with what had gone before, re- 
 stored voice to Miss Bussey. 
 
 " What's the matter with you ? Are you 
 mad ? " she demanded. 
 
 John sat down beside her. His friends
 
 38 COMEDIES OF COURTSHIP 
 
 anticipated a distinguished Parliamentary 
 career for John ; he could make anything 
 sound reasonable. Miss Bussey was fasci- 
 nated by his suave and fluent narrative of 
 what had befallen Mary and himself ; she 
 could not but admire his just remarks on 
 the providential disclosure of the true state 
 of the case before it was too late, and sym- 
 pathized with the picture of suffering nobly 
 suppressed which grew under his skilful 
 hand ; she was inflamed when he ardently 
 declared his purpose of seeking out Dora ; 
 she was touched when he kissed Mary's 
 hand and declared that the world held no 
 nobler woman. Before John's eloquence 
 even the stern facts of a public engage- 
 ment, of invited guests, of dresses ordered 
 and presents received, lost their force, and 
 the romantic spirit, rekindled, held undivid- 
 ed sway in Miss Bussey's heart. 
 
 " But," she said, " why does Mary talk of 
 going to Cannes with you ? " 
 
 " Mr. Ellerton is at Cannes, Aunt," mur- 
 mured Mary, shyly. 
 
 " But you can't travel with John." 
 
 " Oh, but you must come too." 
 
 " It looks as if you were running after him."
 
 THE WHEEL OF LOVE 39 
 
 " I'll chance Charlie thinking that," cried 
 Mary, clasping- her hands in glee. 
 
 Miss Bussey pretended to be reluctant to 
 undertake the journey, but she was really 
 quite ready to yield, and soon everything 
 was settled on the new basis. 
 
 " And now to write and tell people," said 
 Miss Bussey. " That's the worst part of it." 
 
 "Poor dear! We'll help," cried Mary. 
 "But I must write to Cannes." 
 
 " Wire ! " cried John. 
 
 " Of course, wire ! " echoed Mary. 
 
 " The first thing to-morrow." 
 
 " Before breakfast." 
 
 " Mary, I shall never forget " 
 
 " No, John, it's you who " and they 
 
 went off in a torrent of mutual laudation. 
 
 Miss Bussey shook her head. 
 
 " If they think all that of one another why 
 don't they marry ? " she said.
 
 CHAPTER IV 
 
 THE TALE OF A POSTMARK 
 
 " Yes," said Lady Deane, " we leave to- 
 day week : Roger has to be back the first 
 week in May, and I want to stop at one or 
 two places en route." 
 
 "Let's see. To-day's the 19th, no, the 
 20th ; there's nothing to remind one of time 
 here. That'll be the 27th. That's about my 
 date ; we might go together if you and Deane 
 have no objection." 
 
 " Oh, I should be delighted, General ; and 
 shall you stay at all in Paris ? " 
 
 "A few days — just to show Dolly the 
 sights." 
 
 " How charming ! And you and I must 
 have some expeditions together. Roger is 
 so odd about not liking to take me." 
 
 " We'll do the whole thing, Lady Deane," 
 answered General Bellairs, heartily. " Notre 
 Dame, the Versailles, the Invalides, Eiffel 
 Tower."
 
 THE WHEEL OF LOVE 41 
 
 Lady Deane's broad white brow showed a 
 little pucker. 
 
 " That wasn't quite what I meant," said she. 
 " Oh, but Roger could take Dora to those, 
 couldn't he, while you and I made a point of 
 seeing- some of the real life of the people ? 
 Of studying- them in their ordinary resorts, 
 their places of recreation and amusement." 
 
 " Oh, the Francais, and the opera, and so 
 on, of course." 
 
 " No, no, no," exclaimed Lady Deane, tap- 
 ping her foot impatiently and fixing her 
 gray eyes on the General's now puzzled face. 
 " Not the same old treadmill in Paris as in 
 London ! Not that, General ! " 
 
 " What then, my dear lady ? " asked he. 
 "Your wish is law to me," and it was true 
 that he had become very fond of his earnest 
 young friend. " What do you want to see ? 
 The Chamber of Deputies ? " 
 
 Sir Eoger's voice struck in. 
 
 " I'm not a puritanical husband, Bellairs, 
 but I must make a stand somewhere. Not 
 the Chamber of Deputies." 
 
 "Don't be silly, Roger dear," said Lady 
 Deane, in her usual tone of dispassionate re- 
 proof.
 
 42 COMEDIES OF COURTSHIP 
 
 "I can't find out where she does want to 
 go to," remarked the General. 
 
 " I can tell you," said Sir Roger, and he 
 leant down and whispered a name in the 
 General's ear. The General jumped. 
 
 " Good heavens ! " he exclaimed. " I 
 haven't been there since the fifties. Is it 
 still like what it used to be ? " 
 
 " How should I know ? " inquired Sir 
 Roger. " I'm not a student of social phe- 
 nomena. Maud is, so she wants to go." 
 
 Lady Deane was looking on with a quiet 
 smile. 
 
 "She never mentioned it," protested the 
 General. 
 
 " Oh, of course if there's a worse place 
 now ! " conceded Sir Roger. 
 
 "Til make up my mind when we arrive," 
 observed Lady Deane. "Anyhow I shall 
 rely on you, General." 
 
 The General looked a little uncomfort- 
 able. 
 
 " If Deane doesn't object " 
 
 " I shouldn't think of taking my wife to 
 such places." 
 
 Suddenly Dora Bellairs rushed up to 
 them.
 
 THE WHEEL OF LOVE 43 
 
 "Have you seen Mr. Ellerton ? " she cried. 
 "Where is he?" 
 
 " In the smoking-room," answered Sir 
 Roger. " Do yon want him ? " 
 
 "Would you mind? I can't go in there: 
 it's full of men." 
 
 " After all we must be somewhere," plead- 
 ed Sir Roger as he went on his errand. 
 
 " Dolly," said the General, " I've just 
 made a charming arrangement. Lady Deane 
 and Sir Roger start for Paris to-day week, 
 and we're going with them. You said you'd 
 like another week here." 
 
 "It's charming our being able to go to- 
 gether, isn't it ? " said Lady Deane. Dora's 
 face did not express rapture, yet she liked 
 the Deanes very much. 
 
 " Oh, but ■" she began. 
 
 "Well?" asked her father. 
 
 " I rather want to go a little sooner." 
 
 "I'm afraid," said Lady Deane, "we 
 sha'n't get Roger to move before then. He's 
 bent on seeing the tennis tournament 
 through. When did you want to go, Dora ? " 
 
 " Well, in fact— to-night." 
 
 " My dear Dolly, what a weathercock you 
 are ! It's impossible. I'm dining with the
 
 44 COMEDIES OF COURTSHIP 
 
 Grand Duke on Monday. You must make 
 up your mind to stay, young woman." 
 
 " Oh, please, papa " 
 
 " But why do you want to go ? " asked the 
 General, rather impatiently. 
 
 Dora had absolutely no producible reason 
 for her eagerness to go. And yet — Oh, if 
 they only knew what was at stake ! " We're 
 to be married in a fortnight ! " She could 
 see the words dancing before her eyes. 
 And she must waste a precious week here ! 
 
 " Do you want me, Miss Bellairs ? " asked 
 Charlie Ellerton, coming up to them. 
 
 " Yes. I want — oh, I want to go to Bump- 
 elmayer's." 
 
 "All right. Come along. I'm delighted 
 to go with you." 
 
 They walked off in silence. Dora was in 
 distress. She saw that the General was im- 
 movable. 
 
 Suddenly Charlie turned to her and re- 
 marked, 
 
 " Well, it's all over with me, Miss Bellairs." 
 
 " What ? How do you mean ? " 
 
 " My chance is gone. They're to be mar- 
 ried in a fortnight. I had a letter to say so 
 this morning."
 
 THE WHEEL OF LOVE 45 
 
 Dora turned suddenly to him. 
 
 " Oh, but it's too extraordinary," she cried. 
 "So had I!" 
 
 "What?" 
 
 "Why, a letter to say they were to be 
 married in a fortnight." 
 
 " Nonsense ! " 
 
 "Yes. Mr. Ellerton— who— who is your 
 friend ? " 
 
 " Her name's Mary Travers." 
 
 " And who is she going- to marry ? " 
 
 " Ah ! She hasn't told me that." 
 
 A suspicion of the truth struck them both. 
 Charlie produced his letter. 
 
 " She writes," he said, showing the post- 
 mark, " from Dittington." 
 
 " It is ! It is ! " she cried. " It must be 
 Mary Travers that Mr. Ashforth is going to 
 marry ! " 
 
 " Is that your friend ? " 
 
 " Yes. Is she pretty, Mr. Ellerton ? " 
 
 "Oh, awfully. What sort of a fellow is 
 he?" 
 
 " Splendid ! " 
 
 " Isn't it a deuced queer thing ? " 
 
 " Most extraordinary. And when we told 
 one another we never thought "
 
 46 COMEDIES OF COURTSHIP 
 
 " How could we ? " 
 " Well, no, we couldn't, of course." 
 A pause followed. Then Charlie observed : 
 " I suppose there's nothing to be done." 
 " Nothing to be done, Mr. Ellerton ! "Why 
 if I were a man I'd leave for England to- 
 night." 
 
 " And why can't you ? " 
 "Papa won't. But you might." 
 "Ye-es, I suppose I might. It would 
 look rather odd, wouldn't it ? " 
 
 " Why, you yourself suggested it ! " 
 "Yes, but the marriage was a long way 
 off then." 
 
 " There's the more reason now for haste." 
 
 " Of course, that's true, but " 
 
 " Oh, if papa would only take me ! " 
 A sudden idea seemed to strike Charlie ; 
 he assumed an air of chivalrous sympathy. 
 "When shall you go ? " he asked. 
 "Not till to-day week," she said. "We 
 sha'n't get to England till three or four days 
 before — it." Dora knew nothing of the pro- 
 posed stay in Paris. 
 
 " Look here, Miss Bellairs," said Charlie, 
 "we agreed to stand by one another. I shall 
 wait and go when you do."
 
 THE WHEEL OF LOVE 47 
 
 " But think- 
 
 " I've thought." 
 
 " You're risking everything." 
 
 " If she'll break it off ten days before, 
 she'll do the same four days before." 
 
 "If she really loves you she will." 
 
 " Anyhow we'll stand or fall together." 
 
 " Oh, I oughtn't to let you, but I can't re- 
 fuse. How kind you are ! " 
 
 " Then that's settled," said Charlie. " And 
 we must try to console one another till 
 then." 
 
 " The suspense is awful, isn't it ? " 
 
 " Of course. But we must appear cheer- 
 ful. We mustn't betray ourselves." 
 
 " Not for the world ! I can never thank 
 you enough. You'll come with us all the 
 way ? " 
 
 " Yes." 
 
 " Thank you again." 
 
 She gave him her hand, which he pressed 
 gently. 
 
 " Hullo ! " said he. " We seem to have 
 got up by the church somewhere. Where 
 were we going to ? " 
 
 " Why, to Rumpelmayer's." 
 
 " Oh, ah ! Well, let's go back to the hotel."
 
 48 COMEDIES OF COURTSHIP 
 
 Wonderings on the extraordinary coinci- 
 dence, with an occasional reference to the 
 tender tie of a common sorrow which bound 
 them together, beguiled the journey back, 
 and when they reached the hotel Dora was 
 quite calm. Charlie seemed distinctly cheer- 
 ful, and when his companion left him he sat 
 down by Deane and remarked in a careless 
 way, just as if he neither knew nor eared 
 what the rest of them were going- to do, 
 
 " Well, I shall light out of here in a few 
 days. I suppose you're staying some time 
 longer ? " 
 
 " Off in a week," said Sir Roger. 
 
 " Oh, by Jove, that's about my mark. 
 Going back to England ? " 
 
 " Yes, I suppose so — ultimately. We 
 shall stay a few days in Paris en route. The 
 Bellairs' go with us." 
 
 " Oh, do they ? " 
 
 Sir Roger smiled gently. 
 
 " Surprised ? " he asked. 
 
 Charlie ignored the question. 
 
 " And you aren't going to hurry ? " he in- 
 quired. 
 
 " Why should we ? " 
 
 Charlie sat silent. It was tolerably plain
 
 THE WHEEL OF LOVE 49 
 
 that, unless the few daj r s en route were very 
 few indeed, John Ashfortk and Mary Trav- 
 ers were in a fair way to be prosperously 
 and peacefully married before Dora Bellairs 
 set foot in England. And if he stayed with 
 the Bellairs', before he did, either ! Charlie 
 lit a cigarette and sat puffing and thinking. 
 
 "Dashed nice girl, Dora Bellairs," ob- 
 served Sir Roger. 
 
 " Think so ? " 
 
 " I do. She's the only girl I ever saw that 
 Laing was smitten with." 
 
 " Laing ! " said Charlie. 
 
 " Well, what's the matter ? He's an un- 
 common good chap, Laing— one of the best 
 chaps I know — and he's got lots of coin. I 
 don't expect she'd sneeze at Laing." 
 
 It is, no doubt, taking a very serious re- 
 sponsibility to upset an arrangement arrived 
 at deliberately and carried almost to a con- 
 clusion. A man should be very sure that 
 he can make a woman happy — happier than 
 any other man could — before he asks her to 
 face the turmoil and the scandal of breaking 
 off her marriage only a week before its cele- 
 bration. Sure as he may be of his own af- 
 fection, he must be equally sure of hers, 
 4
 
 50 COMEDIES OF COURTSHIP 
 
 equally sure that their mutual love is deep 
 and permanent. He must consider his 
 claims to demand such a sacrifice. What 
 remorse will be his if, afterwards, he dis- 
 covers that what he did was not, in truth, 
 for her real happiness ! He must be on his 
 guard against mere selfishness or mere van- 
 ity masquerading in the garb of a genuine 
 passion. 
 
 As these thoughts occurred to Charlie El- 
 lerton he felt that he was at a crisis of his 
 life. He also felt glad that he had still a 
 quiet week at Cannes in which to revolve 
 these considerations in his mind. Above 
 all, he must do nothing hastily. 
 
 Dora came out, a book in her hand. Her 
 soft white frock fluttered in the breeze, and 
 she pushed back a loose lock of dark hair 
 that caressed her cheek. 
 
 " A dashed nice girl, upon my honor," said 
 Sir Roger Deane. 
 
 " Oh, very." 
 
 "I say, old chap, I suppose you're in no 
 hurry. You'll put in a few days in Paris ? 
 We might have a day out, mightn't we ? " 
 
 " I don't know yet," said Charlie, and, 
 when Deane left him, he sat on in solitude.
 
 THE WHEEL OF LOVE 51 
 
 Was it possible that in the space of a 
 
 week ? No, it was impossible. And 
 
 yet, with a girl like that 
 
 " I did the right thing in waiting to go 
 with her, anyhow," said Charlie, comforting 
 himself.
 
 CHAPTER V 
 
 A SECOND EDITION 
 
 " Don't you think it's an interesting- sort of 
 title ? " inquired Lady Deane of Mr. Laing. 
 
 Laing was always a little uneasy in her 
 presence. He felt not only that she was an- 
 alyzing him, but that the results of the analy- 
 sis seemed to her to be a very small residuum 
 of solid matter. Besides, he had been told 
 that she had described him as a " common- 
 place young man," a thing nobody could be 
 expected to like. 
 
 " Capital ! " he answered, nervously finger- 
 ing his eye-glass. " The Transformation of 
 Giles Brockleton ! Capital ! " 
 
 " I think it will do," said Lady Deane com- 
 placently. 
 
 " Er— what was he transformed into, Lady 
 Deane ? " 
 
 "A man," replied the lady emphatically. 
 
 " Of course. I see," murmured Laing
 
 THE WHEEL OF LOVE 53 
 
 apologetically, stifling- a desire to ask what 
 Giles had been before. 
 
 A moment later the author enlightened 
 him. 
 
 " Yes," said she, " into a man, from a use- 
 less, mischievous, contemptible idler, a para- 
 site, Mr. Laing, a creature to whom " 
 
 " What did it, Lady Deane ? " interrupted 
 Laing hastily. He felt somehow as if he 
 were being catalogued. 
 
 " Just a woman's influence." 
 
 Laing's face displayed relief ; he felt that 
 he was in his depth again. 
 
 " Oh, got married, you mean ? Well, of 
 course, he'd have to pull up a bit, wouldn't 
 he? Hang it, I think it's a fellow's 
 duty " 
 
 "You don't quite understand me," ob- 
 served Lady Deane coldly. " He did not 
 marry the woman." 
 
 " What, did she give him the — I mean, 
 wouldn't she have him, Lady Deane?" 
 
 " She would have married him ; but be- 
 side her he saw himself in his true colors. 
 Knowing what he was, how could he dare ? 
 That was his punishment, and punishment 
 brouerht transformation."
 
 54 COMEDIES OF COURTSHIP 
 
 As Lady Deane sketched her idea, her 
 eyes kindled and her tone became animated. 
 Laing admired both her and her idea, and 
 he expressed his feelings by saying : 
 
 " Remarkable sort of chap, Lady Deane. 
 I shall read it all right, you know." 
 
 " I think you ought," said she, rising, and 
 leaving him to wonder whether she had 
 " meant anything." 
 
 He gave himself a little shake, as though 
 to escape from the atmosphere of serious- 
 ness which she had diffused about him, and 
 looked round. A little way off he saw Dora 
 Bellairs and Charlie Ellerton sitting side by 
 side. His brow clouded. Before Charlie 
 came it had been his privilege to be Miss 
 Bellairs's cavalier, and although he never 
 hoped, nor, to tell the truth, desired more 
 than a temporary favor in her eyes, he did 
 not quite like being ousted. 
 
 " Pretty good for a fellow who's just had 
 the bag!" he remarked scornfully, referring 
 to Roger Deane's unauthorized revelation. 
 
 It was the day before the exodus to Paris. 
 Dora's period of weary waiting had worn it- 
 self away, and she was acknowledging to 
 Charlie that the last two or three days had
 
 THE WHEEL OF LOVE 55 
 
 passed quicker than she had ever thought 
 they could. 
 
 " The first two days I was wretched, the 
 next two gloomy, but these last almost 
 peaceful. In spite of — you know what — I 
 think you've done me good on the whole." 
 
 "Don't mention it," said Charlie, fling- 
 ing his arm over the back of the seat and 
 looking at his companion. 
 
 "And now — in the end," pursued Dora, 
 " I'm actually a little sorry to leave all this ; 
 it's so beautiful," and she waved her parasol 
 vaguely at the hills and the islands, while 
 with the other hand she took off her hat and 
 allowed the breeze to blow through her hair. 
 
 "It is jolly, isn't it? " she asked. 
 
 "I should rather think it was," said Char- 
 lie. " The jolliest I've ever seen." It was 
 evident that he did not refer to the scenery. 
 
 " Oh, you promised you wouldn't," cried 
 Dora reproachfully. 
 
 " "Well, then, I'll promise again," he re- 
 plied, smiling amiably. 
 
 " What must I think of you, when only a 
 
 week or so ago ? Oh, and what must 
 
 you think of me to suppose I could ? Oh, 
 Mr. Ellerton ! "
 
 56 COMEDIES OF COURTSHIP 
 
 " Like to know what I think of you ? " in- 
 quired Charlie, quite unperturbed by this 
 passionate rebuke. 
 
 " Certainly not," said she, with dignity, 
 and turned away. A moment later, however, 
 she attacked him again. 
 
 " And you've done nothing," she said in- 
 dignantly, " but suggest to papa interesting 
 places to stop at on the way, and things he 
 ought to see in Paris. Yes, and you actu- 
 ally suggested going home by sea from 
 Marseilles. And all the time you knew it 
 was vital to me to get home as soon as pos- 
 sible. To me ? Yes, and to you last week. 
 Shall I tell you something, Mr. Ellerton ? " 
 
 " Please," said Charlie. " Whisper it in 
 my ear," and he offered his head in fitting 
 proximity. 
 
 " I shouldn't mind who heard," she de- 
 clared. " I despise you, Mr. Ellerton." 
 
 Charlie was roused to a protest. 
 
 " For downright unfairness give me a 
 girl ! " said he. " Here have I taken the 
 manly course ! After a short period of weak- 
 ness — I admit that — I have conquered my 
 feelings ; I have determined not to distress 
 Miss Travers by intruding upon her ; I have
 
 THE WHEEL OF LOVE 57 
 
 overcome the promptings of a cowardly de- 
 spair ; I have turned my back resolutely on 
 a past devoid of hope. I am, after a sore 
 struggle, myself again. And my reward, 
 Miss Bellairs, is to be told that you despise 
 me. Upon my honor, you'll be despising 
 Simon Stylites next." 
 
 " And you wrote and told Miss Travers 
 you were coming ! " 
 
 " All right. I shall write and tell her I'm 
 not coming. I shall say, Miss Bellairs, 
 that it seems to me to be an undignified 
 thing " 
 
 " To do what I'm going to do ? Thank 
 you, Mr. Ellerton." 
 
 " Oh, I forgot." 
 
 " The irony of it is that you persuaded me 
 to do it yourself." 
 
 " I was a fool ; but I didn't know you so 
 well then." 
 
 " What's that got to do with it ? " 
 
 " Everything." 
 
 " You didn't know yourself, I'm afraid," 
 she remarked. " You thought you were a 
 man of some — some depth of feeling, some 
 constancy, a man whose — whose regard a 
 girl would value, instead of being "
 
 58 COMEDIES OF COURTSHIP 
 
 " Just a poor devil who worships the 
 ground you tread on." 
 
 Dora laughed scornfully. 
 
 " Second edition ! " said she. " The first 
 dedicated to Miss Travers." 
 
 And then Charlie (and it is things like 
 these which shake that faith in human 
 nature that we try to cling to) said in a low 
 but quite distinct voice : 
 
 " Oh, d n Miss Travers ! " 
 
 Dora shot — it almost looked as if some- 
 thing had shot her, as it used, in old days, 
 Miss Zazel — up from her seat. 
 
 " I thought I was talking to a gentleman" 
 said she. " I suppose you'll use that — ex- 
 pression — about me in a week." 
 
 " In a good deal less, if you treat me like 
 this," said Charlie, and his air was one of 
 hopeless misery. 
 
 We all recollect that Anne ended by being 
 tolerably kind to wicked King Richard. 
 After all, Charlie had the same excuse. 
 
 "I don't want to be unkind," said Dora 
 more gently. 
 
 " I'll do anything in the world to please 
 you." 
 
 " Then make papa go straight to Paris,
 
 THE WHEEL OF LOVE 59 
 
 and straight on from Paris," said Dora, 
 using her power mercilessly. 
 
 " Oh, I say, I didn't mean that, Miss Bel- 
 lairs." 
 
 " You said you'd do anything' I liked." 
 
 Charlie looked at her thoughtfully. 
 
 " I suppose you've no pity ? " he inquired. 
 
 "For you? Not a bit." 
 
 "You probably don't know how beautiful 
 you are ? " 
 
 " Don't be foolish, and — and impertinent." 
 
 She was standing opposite to him. With 
 a sudden motion, he sprang forward, fell on 
 one knee, seized her ungloved hand, covered 
 it with kisses, sprang up, and hastened 
 away, crying as he went : 
 
 " All right. I'll do it." 
 
 Dora stood where he left her. First she 
 looked at her hand, then at Charlie's retreat- 
 ing back, then again at her hand. Her 
 cheek was flushed and she trembled a 
 little. 
 
 " John never did that," she said, " at least, 
 not without asking. And even then, not 
 quite like that." 
 
 She walked on slowly, then stopped and 
 exclaimed :
 
 60 C03IEBIE8 OF COURTSHIP 
 
 "I wonder if he ever did that to Mary 
 Travers." 
 
 And her last reflection was : 
 
 " Poor boy. He must be — oh, dear me ! " 
 
 When Charlie reached the tennis-courts, 
 he was, considering the moving- scene 
 through which he had passed, wonderfully 
 calm. In fact he was smiling and whistling. 
 Espying Sir Roger Deane, he went and sat 
 down by him. 
 
 "Roger," said he, "I'm going with you 
 and the Bellairs' to-morrow." 
 
 " I know that." 
 
 " Miss Bellairs wants to go straight 
 through to England without stopping any- 
 where." 
 
 " She'll have to want, I expect." 
 
 " And I've promised to try and get the 
 General to do what she wants." 
 
 " Have you though ? " 
 
 " I suppose, Roger, old fellow — you know 
 you've great influence with him — I suppose 
 it's no use asking you to say a word to him ? " 
 
 " Not a bit." 
 
 "Why?" 
 
 " Because Maud particularly wants him to 
 stay with us in Paris."
 
 THE WHEEL OF LOVE 61 
 
 " Oh, of course, if Lady Deane wishes it, 
 I mustn't say a word. She's quite made up 
 her mind about it, has she ? " 
 
 " Well, I suppose so." 
 
 " She's strong- on it, I mean ? Not likely 
 to change ? " 
 
 "I think not, Charlie." 
 
 " She'd ask him to stay, as a favor to 
 her ? " 
 
 " I shouldn't at all wonder." 
 
 " Oh, well then, my asking him won't 
 make much difference." 
 
 " Frankly, I don't see why it should." 
 
 " Thanks. I only wanted to know. You're 
 not in a hurry, Koger ? I mean, you won't 
 ask your wife to go straight on? " 
 
 " No, I shan't, Charlie. I want to stop 
 myself." 
 
 " Thanks, old chap ! See you at dinner," 
 and Charlie strolled off with a reassured 
 air. 
 
 Sir Roger sat and thought. 
 
 "I see his game," he said to himself at 
 last, "but I'm hanged if I see hers. Why 
 does she want to get back to England ? 
 Perhaps if I delay her as much as I can, 
 she'll tell me. Hanged if I don't! Anyhow
 
 62 COMEDIES OF COURTSHIP 
 
 I'm glad to see old Charlie getting conva- 
 lescent." 
 
 The next morning the whole party left 
 Cannes by the early train. The Bellairs', 
 the Deanes, and Charlie Ellerton travelled 
 together. Laing announced his intention 
 of following by the afternoon train. 
 
 " Oh," said Lady Deane, " you'll get to 
 Paris sooner than we do." Dora looked 
 gloomy ; so did Charlie, after a momentary, 
 hastily smothered smile. 
 
 The porter approached and asked for an 
 address. They told him the Grand Hotel, 
 Paris. 
 
 " If anything comes to-day, I'll bring it 
 on," said Laing. 
 
 " Yes, do ; we shall have no address be- 
 fore Paris," answered General Bellairs. 
 
 They drove off, and Laing, feeling rather 
 solitary, returned to his cigar. An hour 
 later the waiter brought him two telegrams, 
 one for Dora and one for Charlie. He 
 looked at the addresses. 
 
 " Just too late, by Jove ! All right, gar- 
 con, I'll take 'em," and he thrust them into 
 the pocket of his flannel jacket. And when, 
 after lunch, he could not stand the dulness
 
 THE WHEEL OF LOVE 63 
 
 any longer and went to Monte Carlo, he left 
 the telegrams in the discarded flannels, 
 where they lay till — the time when they 
 were discovered. For Mr. Laing clean for- 
 got all about them !
 
 CHAPTER VI 
 
 A MAN WITH A THEORY 
 
 Even Miss Bussey was inclined to think 
 that all had happened for the best. John's 
 eloquence had shaken her first disapproba- 
 tion ; the visible happiness of the persons 
 chiefly concerned pleaded yet more per- 
 suasively. What harm, after all, was done, 
 except for a little trouble and a little gos- 
 sip ? To these Mary and John were utterly 
 indifferent. At first they had been rather 
 shy in referring-, before one another, to their 
 loves, but custom taught them to mention 
 the names without confusion, and ere long 
 they had exchanged confidences as to their 
 future plans. John's arrangement was ob- 
 viously the more prudent and becoming. 
 He discountenanced Mary's suggestion of 
 an unannounced descent on Cannes, and 
 persuaded her to follow his example and 
 inform her lover that she would await news
 
 THE WHEEL OF LOVE 65 
 
 from him in Paris. They were to put up at 
 the European, and telegrams there from 
 Cannes would find them on and after April 
 28th. All this valuable information was 
 contained in the despatches, which lay, 
 with their priceless messages, on the said 
 April 28th, in Mr. Arthur Laing's flannel 
 jacket, inside his portmanteau, on the way 
 to Paris. 
 
 Paris claims to be the centre of the world, 
 and if it be, the world has a very good cen- 
 tre. Anyhow Paris becomes, from this 
 moment, the centre of this drama. Not 
 only was Arthur Laing being whirled there 
 by the Nice express, and Miss Bussey's 
 party proceeding thither by the eleven 
 o'clock train from Victoria — Mary laughed 
 as she thought it might have been her 
 honeymoon she was starting on — but the 
 Bellairs' and their friends were heading for 
 the same point. Miss Bussey's party had 
 the pleasanter journey ; they were all of one 
 mind ; Miss Bussey was eager to reach 
 Paris because it was the end of the journey ; 
 John and Mary desired nothing but the 
 moment when with trembling fingers they 
 should tear open their telegrams in the hall
 
 66 COMEDIES OF COURTSHIP 
 
 of the hotel. The expedition from the south 
 did not enjoy a like unanimity ; but before 
 following their steps we may, in the interest 
 of simplicity, land the first detachment safe- 
 ly at its destination. 
 
 When Mary and John, followed by Miss 
 Bussey — they outstripped her in their eager- 
 ness — entered the hotel, a young man with 
 an eye-glass was just engaging a bedroom. 
 John took his place beside the stranger, and 
 asked in a voice, which he strove to render 
 calm, if there were any letters for 
 
 " Beg pardon, sir. In one moment," said 
 the clerk, and he added to Laing, " Number 
 37, sir." Laing — Oh, the irony of things ! — 
 turned on John and his companion just that 
 one supercilious glance which we bestow on 
 other tourists, and followed his baggage 
 upstairs. 
 
 " Anything," resumed John, " for Miss 
 Travers or Mr. Ashforth ? " And he suc- 
 ceeded in looking as if he did not care a 
 straw whether there were or not. 
 
 After a search the porter answered, 
 " Nothing, sir." 
 
 " What ? " exclaimed John, aghast. " Oh, 
 nonsense, look again."
 
 THE WHEEL OF LOVE 67 
 
 Another search followed ; it was without 
 result. 
 
 John saw Mary's appealing eyes fixed on 
 him. 
 
 " Nothing," he said tragically. 
 
 "Oh, John!" 
 
 "Have you taken the rooms, Mr. Ash- 
 forth ? " inquired Miss Bussey. 
 
 "No. I'm sorry. I forgot all about them." 
 
 Miss Bussey was tired ; she had been sea- 
 sick, and the train always made her feel 
 queer. 
 
 " Has neither of you got an ounce of wits 
 about you ? " she demanded, and plunged 
 forward to the desk. John and Mary re- 
 ceived their numbers in gloomy silence, and 
 mounted the stairs. 
 
 Now Arthur Laing in his hasty survey of 
 the party had arrived at a not unnatural but 
 wholly erroneous conclusion. He had seen 
 a young man, rather nervous, a young wom- 
 an, looking anxious and shy, and an elderly 
 person, plainly dressed (Miss Bussey was 
 no dandy) sitting (Miss Bussey always sat 
 as soon as she could) on a trunk. He took 
 John and Mary for a newly married couple, 
 and Miss Bussey for an old family servant
 
 68 COMEDIES OF COURTSHIP 
 
 detailed to look after her young- mistress's 
 entry into independent housekeeping-. 
 
 " More infernal honeymooners," he said 
 to himself, as he washed his hands. " The 
 place is always full of 'em. Girl wasn't bad- 
 looking, though." 
 
 The next morning, unhappily, confirmed 
 him in his mistake. For Miss Bussey, over- 
 come by the various trials of the day before, 
 kept her bed, and when Laing came down, 
 the first sight which met his eyes was a 
 breakfast-table, whereat Mary and John sat 
 tete-a-tete. He eyed them with that mixture 
 of scorn and envy which their supposed 
 situation awakens in a bachelor's heart, and 
 took a place from which he could survey 
 them at leisure. There is a bright side 
 to everything ; and that of Laing's mistake 
 was the pleasure he derived from his delu- 
 sion. Sticking his glass firmly in his eye, 
 he watched like a cat for those playful little 
 endearments which his cynical mood — he 
 was, like many of us, not at his best in 
 the morning — led him to anticipate. He 
 watched in vain. The young people were 
 decorum itself ; more than that, they showed 
 signs of preoccupation ; they spoke only
 
 TEE WHEEL OF LOVE 69 
 
 occasionally, and then with a business-like 
 brevity. 
 
 Suddenly the waiter entered, with a hand- 
 ful of letters which he proceeded to distrib- 
 ute. Laing expected none, and kept his 
 gaze on his honeymooners. To his surprise 
 they showed animation enough now ; their 
 eyes were first on the waiter's approaching 
 form ; the bridegroom even rose an inch or 
 two from his seat ; both stretched out their 
 hands. 
 
 Alas, with a little bow, a smile, and a 
 shrug, the waiter passed by, and the disap- 
 pointed couple sank back, with looks of 
 blank despair. 
 
 Surely here was enough to set any open- 
 minded man on the right track ! Yes ; but 
 not enough to free one who was tied and 
 bound to his own theory. 
 
 " She's dashed anxious to hear from 
 home ! " mused Laing. " Poor girl ! It ain't 
 over and above flattering to him, though." 
 
 He finished his breakfast and went out to 
 smoke. Presently he saw his friends come 
 out also ; they went to the porter's desk and 
 he heard one of them say " telegram." A 
 sudden idea struck him.
 
 70 COMEDIES OF COURTSHIP 
 
 " I am an ass ! " said he. " Tell you what 
 it is ; they've wired for rooms somewhere — ■ 
 Monte, most likely — and can't start till they 
 get an answer." 
 
 He was so pleased with his explanation 
 that his last doubt vanished and he watched 
 Mary and John start for a walk — the fraternal 
 relations they had established would have 
 allowed such a thing - even in London, much 
 more in Paris — with quite a benevolent 
 smile. 
 
 " Aunt Sarah is really quite poorly," re- 
 marked Mary as they crossed the road and 
 entered the Tuileries Gardens. " She'll 
 have to stay in all to-day and perhaps to- 
 morrow. Isn't it hard upon her? Paris 
 amuses her so much." 
 
 John expressed his sympathy. 
 
 " Now if it had been you or I," he ended, 
 " we shouldn't have minded. Paris doesn't 
 amuse us just now." 
 
 " Oh, but, John, we must be ready to start 
 at any moment." 
 
 " You can't start without Miss Bussey." 
 
 " I think that in a wagon-lit " began 
 
 Mary. 
 
 " But what's the good of talking ? " cried
 
 THE WHEEL OF LOVE 71 
 
 John, bitterly. " Why is there no news 
 from her ? " 
 
 " He might have wired — John, is it possi- 
 ble our telegrams went astray ? " 
 
 " Well, we must wait a day or two ; or, if 
 you like, we can wire again." 
 
 Mary hesitated. 
 
 "I — I can't do that, John. Suppose he'd 
 received the first, and — and " 
 
 " Yes, I see. I don't want to humiliate 
 myself either." 
 
 "We'll wait a day, anyhow. And, now, 
 John, let's think no more about them ! Oh, 
 well, that's nonsense ; but let's enjoy our- 
 selves as well as we can." 
 
 They managed to enjoy themselves very 
 well. The town was new to Mary, and John 
 found a pleasure in showing it off to her. 
 After a morning of sight-seeing, they drove 
 in the Bois, and ended the day at the thea- 
 tre. Miss Bussey, unfortunately, was no 
 better. She had sent for an English doctor 
 and he talked vaguely about two or three 
 days in bed. Mary ventured to ask whether 
 her aunt could travel. 
 
 " Oh, if absolutely necessary, perhaps ; 
 but much better not," was the answer.
 
 72 COMEDIES OF COURTSHIP 
 
 Well, it was not absolutely necessary yet, 
 for no letter and no telegram arrived. This 
 was the awful fact that greeted them when 
 they came in from the theatre. 
 
 "We'll wire the first thing- to-morrow," 
 declared John, in a resolute tone. " Write 
 yours to-night, Mary, and I'll give them to 
 the porter " 
 
 " Oh, not mine, please," cried Mary, in 
 shrinking bashfulness. " I can't let the 
 porter see mine ! " 
 
 " Well, then, we'll take them out before 
 breakfast to-morrow." 
 
 To this Mary agreed, and they sat down 
 and wrote their despatches. While they 
 were so engaged Laing jumped out of a cab 
 and entered the room. He seized an English 
 paper, and, flinging himself into a chair, be- 
 gan to study the sporting news. Presently he 
 stole a glance at Mary. It so chanced that 
 just at the same moment she was stealing a 
 glance at him. Mary dropped her eyes with 
 a blush ; Laing Avithdrew behind his paper. 
 
 " Shy, of course. Anybody would be," he 
 thought, with a smile. 
 
 " Did you like the piece, Mary ? " asked 
 John-
 
 THE WHEEL OF LOVE 73 
 
 " Oh, very much. I wish Aunt Sarah 
 could have seen it. She missed so much 
 fun." 
 
 " Well, she could hardly have come with 
 us, could she ? " remarked John. 
 
 " Oh, no," said Mary. 
 
 " Well, I should rather think not," whis- 
 pered Laing, who failed to identify " Aunt 
 Sarah" with the elderly person on the 
 trunk. 
 
 "I shouldn't have been happy if she had," 
 said Mary. 
 
 " I simply wouldn't have let her," said 
 John, in that authoritative tone which so 
 well became him. 
 
 "No more would I in your place, old 
 chap," murmured Mr. Laing. 
 
 Mary rose. 
 
 "Thanks for all your kindness, John. 
 Good-night." 
 
 " I'm so glad you've had a pleasant day. 
 Good-night, Mary." 
 
 So they parted — with a good-night as 
 calm, as decorous, as frankly fraternal as 
 one could wish (or wish otherwise). Yet its 
 very virtues undid it in the prematurely 
 suspicious eyes of Arthur Laing. For no
 
 74 COMEDIES OF COURTSHIP 
 
 sooner was he left alone than he threw down 
 his paper and began to chuckle. 
 
 " All for my benefit, that, eh ? ' Good- 
 night, Mary ! ' ' Good-night, John ! ' Lord ! 
 Lord ! " and he rose, lit a cigarette, and 
 ordered a brandy-and-soda. And ever and 
 again he smiled. He felt very acute indeed. 
 
 So vain is it for either wisdom or simplic- 
 ity, candor or diplomacy — nay, for facts 
 themselves — to struggle against a Man with 
 a Theory. Mr. Laing went to bed no more 
 doubting that Mary and John were man and 
 wife than he doubted that he had " spotted " 
 the winner of the Derby. Certitude could 
 no farther go.
 
 CHAPTEE VII 
 
 THE SIGHTS OF AVIGNON 
 
 " It's a curious thing," observed Roger 
 Deane, " but this fellow Baedeker always 
 travels the opposite way to what I do. 
 When I'm coming back, he's always going 
 out, and vice versa. It makes him precious 
 difficult to understand, I can tell you, Miss 
 Dora. However I think I've got him now. 
 Listen to this ! ' Marseilles to Aries (Amphi- 
 theatre starred) one day. Aries to Avignon 
 (Palace of the Popes starred) two days — slow 
 going that — Avignon to ' " 
 
 " Do you want to squat in this wretched 
 country, Sir Roger ? " demanded Dora an- 
 grily. 
 
 A faint smile played round Sir Roger's lips. 
 
 " You're the only one who's in a hurry," 
 he remarked. 
 
 " No, I'm not. Mr. Ellerton is in just as 
 much of a hurry."
 
 76 COMEDIES OF COURTSHIP 
 
 " Then he bears disappointment better." 
 " What in the world did papa and — well, 
 and Lady Deane, you know — want to stop 
 here for ? " 
 
 " You don't seem to understand how in- 
 teresting- Marseilles is. Let me read you a 
 passage. ' Marseilles was a colony founded 
 about 600 B.C.'— What? Oh, all right! 
 We'll skip a bit. ' In 1792 hordes of galley- 
 slaves were sent hence to Paris, where they 
 committed frightful excesses.' That's what 
 Maud and your father are going to do. ' It 
 was for them that Kouget — ' I say, what's 
 the matter, Miss Dora ? " 
 
 " I don't know why you should enjoy teas- 
 ing me, but you have nearly made me cry, so 
 perhaps you'll be happy now." 
 
 "You tried to take me in. I pretended 
 to be taken in. That's all." 
 
 " Well, it was very unkind of you." 
 " So, after all, it's not a matter of indif- 
 ference to you at what rate we travel, as 
 you said in the train to-day ? " 
 
 " Oh, I had to. I — I couldn't let papa see." 
 "And why are you in a hurry? " 
 " I can't tell you ; but I must — oh, I must ! 
 — be in England in four days."
 
 THE WHEEL OF LOVE 77 
 
 " You'll hardly get your father to give up 
 a day at Avignon." 
 
 " Well, one day there ; then we should 
 just do it, if we only slept in Paris." 
 
 " Yes, but my wife " 
 
 " Oh, you can stay. Don't say anything 
 about Paris yet. Help me to get there. I'll 
 make papa go on. Please do, Sir Roger. 
 I shall be so awfully obliged to you ; so will 
 Mr. Ellerton." 
 
 " Charlie Ellerton ? Not he ! He's in no 
 hurry." 
 
 " What do you mean ? Didn't you hear 
 him to-day urging papa to travel straight 
 through." 
 
 " Oh, yes, I heard that." 
 
 " Well ? " 
 
 " You were there then." 
 
 " What of that ? " 
 
 " He's not so pressing when you're away." 
 
 " I don't understand. Why should he pre- 
 tend to be in a hurry when he isn't ? " 
 
 " Ah, I don't know. Don't you ? " 
 
 " Not in the least, Sir Roger. But never 
 mind Mr. Ellerton. Will you help me ? " 
 
 " As far as Paris. You must look out for 
 yourself there."
 
 7S COMEDIES OF COURTSHIP 
 
 These terms Dora accepted. Surely at 
 Paris she would hear some news of or from 
 John Ashforth. She thought he must have 
 written one line in response to her last 
 letter, and that his answer must have been 
 so far delayed as to arrive at Cannes after 
 her departure ; it would be waiting" for her 
 at Paris and would tell her whether she was 
 in time or whether there was no more use 
 in hurrying - . The dread that oppressed her 
 was lest, arriving too late in Paris, she should 
 find that she had missed happiness by rea- 
 son of this wretched dawdling in Southern 
 France. 
 
 Seeing her meditative, Deane slipped 
 away to his cigar, and she sat in the hotel 
 hall, musing. Deane's revelation of Char- 
 lie's treachery hardly surprised her ; she 
 meant to upbraid him severely, but she was 
 conscious that, if little surprised, she was 
 hardly more than a little angry. His con- 
 duct was indeed contemptible, it revealed 
 an utter instability and fickleness of mind 
 which made her gravely uneasy as to Mary 
 Travers's chances of permanent happiness. 
 Yes, scornful one might be ; but who could 
 be seriously angry with the poor boy ? And
 
 THE WHEEL OF LOVE 79 
 
 perhaps, after all, slie did liim injustice. 
 Some natures were more prone than others 
 to sudden passions ; it really did not follow 
 that a feeling" must be either shallow or 
 short-lived because it was sudden ; whether 
 it survived or passed away would depend 
 chiefly on the person who excited it. It was 
 clear that Mary Travers was incapable of 
 maintaining* a permanent hold over Charlie's 
 affections, but another girl might — might 
 have. If so, it would perhaps be a pity if 
 Charlie and Mary Travers were to come to- 
 gether again. She doubted very much if 
 they were suited to one another. She pict- 
 ured Mary as a severe, rather stern young 
 woman ; and she hardly knew whether to 
 laugh or groan at the thought of Charlie 
 adapting himself to such a mate. Mean- 
 while her own position was certainly very 
 difficult, and she acknowledged its thorn- 
 iness with a little sigh. To begin with, the 
 suspense was terrible ; at times she would 
 have been almost relieved to hear that John 
 was married beyond recall. Then Charlie 
 was a great and a growing difficulty. He 
 had not actually repeated the passionate in- 
 discretion of which he had been guilty at
 
 80 COMEDIES OF COURTSHIP 
 
 Cannes, but more and more watchfulness 
 and severity were needed to keep him with- 
 in the bounds proper to their relative posi- 
 tions, and it was odious to be disagreeable 
 to a fellow-traveller, especially when he was 
 such a good and devoted friend as Charlie. 
 
 Sir Roger loyally carried out his bargain. 
 Lady Deane was hurried on, leaving Mar- 
 seilles, with its varied types of humanity 
 and its profound social significance, prac- 
 tically unexplored ; Aries and Amphithea- 
 tre, in spite of the beckoning " star," were 
 dropped out of the programme, and the next 
 day found the party at Avignon. And now 
 they were once more for a moment in har- 
 mony. Dora could spare twenty-four hours ; 
 Lady Deane and the General were mollified 
 by conscious unselfishness ; the prospect of 
 a fresh struggle at Paris lay well in the 
 background and was discreetly ignored ; 
 Charlie Ellerton, who had reached the most 
 desperate stage of love, looked neither back 
 nor forward. It was enough for him to have 
 wrung four - and - twenty hours of Dora's 
 company from fate's reluctant grasp. He 
 meant to make the most of it. 
 
 She and he sat, on the afternoon of their
 
 THE WHEEL OF LOVE 81 
 
 arrival, in the gardens, hard by the Cathe- 
 dral, where Lady Deane and the General 
 were doing their dut}^. Sir Roger had char- 
 tered a cab and gone for a drive on the 
 boulevards. 
 
 " And we shall really be in Paris to-mor- 
 row night? " said Dora. "And in England, 
 I hope, six-and-thirty hours afterwards. I 
 want papa to cross the next evening. Mr. 
 Ellerton, I believe we shall be in time." 
 
 Charlie said nothing. He seemed to be 
 engrossed by the magnificent view before 
 him. 
 
 " Well ? Have you nothing to say ? " she 
 asked. 
 
 " It's a sin to rush through a place like 
 this," he observed. "We ought to stay a 
 week. There's no end to see. It's an edu- 
 cation ! " 
 
 By way, probably, of making the most of 
 his brief opportunity, he went on gazing, 
 across the river which flowed below, now 
 towards the heights of Mont Ventoux, now 
 at the ramparts of Villeneuve. Dora, on 
 the other hand, fixed pensive eyes on his 
 curly hatless head, which leant forward as 
 he rested his elbows on his knees. He had 
 6
 
 82 COMEDIES OF COURTSHIP 
 
 referred to the attractions of Avignon in 
 tones of almost overpowering emotion. 
 
 Presently lie turned his head towards her 
 with a quick jerk. 
 
 " I don't want to be in time," he said, and, 
 with equal rapidity, he returned to his sur- 
 vey of Yilleneuve. 
 
 Dora made no answer, unless a perplexed 
 wrinkle on her brow might serve for one. 
 A long silence followed. It was broken at 
 last by Charlie. He left the landscape with 
 a sigh of satisfaction, as though he could 
 not reproach himself with having neglected 
 it, and directed his gaze into his companion's 
 eyes. Dora blushed and pulled the brim of 
 her hat a little lower down over her brow. 
 
 " What's more," said Charlie, in deliber- 
 ate tones, and as if no pause had occurred 
 between this remark and his last, " I don't 
 believe you do." 
 
 Dora started and straightened herself in 
 her seat ; it looked as if the rash remark 
 were to be met with a burst of indignation, 
 but, a second later, she leant back again 
 and smiled scornfully. 
 
 " How can you be so silly, Mr. Ellerton ? " 
 she asked.
 
 THE WHEEL OF LOVE 83 
 
 " We both of us," pursued Charlie, " see 
 now that we made up our minds to be very 
 foolish ; we both of us mistook our real feel- 
 ing's ; we're beginning- — at least I began 
 some time ago, and you're beginning now — 
 to understand the true state of affairs." 
 
 " Oh, I know what you mean, and I ought 
 to be very angry, I suppose ; but it's too ab- 
 surd." 
 
 " Not in the least. The absurd thing is 
 your fancying that you care about this fel- 
 low Ashforth." 
 
 " No, you must really stop, you must in- 
 deed. I don't " 
 
 " I know the sort of fellow he is — a dull 
 dry chap, who makes love as if he was 
 dancing a minuet." 
 
 " You're quite wrong." 
 
 " And kisses you as if it was part of the 
 church service." 
 
 This last description, applied to John 
 Ashforth's manner of wooing, had enough of 
 aptness to stir Dora into genuine resent- 
 ment. 
 
 " A girl doesn't like a man less because 
 he respects her ; nor more because he ridi- 
 cules better men than himself."
 
 84 COMEDIES OF COURTSHIP 
 
 " Don't be angry. I'm only saying what's 
 true. Why should I want to run him 
 down ? " 
 
 " I suppose — well, I suppose because " 
 
 "Well?" 
 
 " You're a little bit— but I don't think I 
 ought to talk about it." 
 
 " Jealous, you were going to say." 
 
 " Was I ? " 
 
 " And that shows you know what I mean." 
 
 " Well, by now I suppose I do. I can't 
 help your doing it or I would." 
 
 Charlie moved closer, and leaning for- 
 ward till his face was only a yard from hers, 
 while his hand, sliding along the back of the 
 seat, almost touched her, said in a low voice, 
 
 " Are you sure you would ? " 
 
 Dora's answer was a laugh — a laugh with 
 a hint of nervousness in it. Perhaps she 
 knew what was in it, for she looked away 
 towards the river. 
 
 " Dolly," he whispered, " shall I go back 
 to Cannes? Shall I ? " 
 
 Perhaps the audacity of this per' saltum 
 advance from the distance of Miss "Bel- 
 lairs " to the ineffable assumption involved 
 in " Dolly " made the subject of it dumb.
 
 THE WHEEL OF LOVE 85 
 
 " I will, if you ask me," lie said, as she 
 was silent for a space. 
 
 Then with profile towards him and eyes 
 away, she murmured, 
 
 " What would Miss Travers say if you 
 turned back now ? " 
 
 The mention of Mary did not on this oc- 
 casion evoke any unseemly words. On the 
 contrary, Charlie smiled. He glanced at 
 his companion. He glanced behind him 
 and round him. Then, drilling his deep de- 
 sign into the semblance of an uncontrolla- 
 ble impulse, he seized Dora's hand in his 
 and, before she could stir, kissed her cheek. 
 
 She leapt to her feet. 
 
 " How dare you ? " she cried. 
 
 "• How could I help it ? " 
 
 " I'll never speak to you again. No gen- 
 tleman would have — oh, I do hope you're 
 ashamed of yourself ! " 
 
 Her words evidently struck home. With 
 an air of contrition he sank on the seat. 
 
 " I'm a beast," he said ruefully. " You're 
 quite right, Miss Bellairs. Don't have any- 
 thing more to say to me. I wish I was — I 
 wish I had some — some self-control — and 
 self-respect, you know. If I were a fellow
 
 86 COMEDIES OF COURTSHIP 
 
 like Ashforth now, I should never have 
 done that ! Of course you can't forgive 
 me," and, in his extremity of remorse, he 
 buried his face in his hands. 
 
 Dora stood beside him. She made one 
 step as if to leave him ; a glance at him 
 brought her back, and she looked down at 
 him for a minute. Presently a troubled 
 doubtful little smile appeared on her face ; 
 when she realized it was there, she promptly 
 banished it. Alas! It was too late. The 
 rascal had been peeping through his fingers, 
 and, with a ringing laugh, he sprang to his 
 feet, caught both her hands, and cried, 
 
 " Shocking, wasn't it ? Awful ? " 
 
 " Let me go, Mr. Ellerton." 
 
 " Must I ? " 
 
 "Yes, yes." 
 
 " Why ? Why, when you ? " 
 
 " Sir Roger's coming. Look behind you." 
 
 " Oh, the deuce ! " 
 
 An instant later they were sitting de- 
 murely at opposite ends of the seat, inspect- 
 ing Villeneuve with interest. 
 
 In another moment Deane stood before 
 them, puffing a cigarette, and wearing an ex- 
 pression of amiability tempered by boredom.
 
 THE WHEEL OF LOVE 87 
 
 "Wonderful old place, isn't it, Deane?" 
 asked Charlie. 
 
 " Suck a view, Sir Roger ! " cried Dora, in 
 almost breathless enthusiasm. 
 
 " You certainly," assented Deane, " do see 
 some wonderful sights on this Promenade. 
 I'm glad I came up. The air's given you 
 quite a color, Miss Dora." 
 
 " It's tea-time," declared Dora suddenly. 
 " Take me down with you, Sir Roger. Mr. 
 Ellerton, go and tell the others we're going 
 home to tea." 
 
 Charlie started off, and Sir Roger strolled 
 along by Miss Bellairs's side. Presently 
 he said : 
 
 " Still anxious to get to Paris ? " 
 
 "Why shouldn't I be? " she asked quickly. 
 
 " I thought perhaps the charms of Avi- 
 gnon would have decided you to linger. 
 Haven't you been tempted ? " 
 
 Dora glanced at him, but his face betrayed 
 no secondary meaning. 
 
 " Tempted ? Oh, perhaps," she answered, 
 with the same nervous little laugh, " but not 
 quite led astray. I'm going on."
 
 CHAPTER VIII 
 
 MR. AND MRS. ASHFORTH (1) 
 
 All that evening Miss Bellairs was not 
 observed — and Deane watched her very 
 closely — to address a word to Charlie Eller- 
 ton ; even " good-night " was avoided by a 
 premature disappearance and unexpected 
 failure to return. Perhaps it was part of 
 the same policy of seclusion which made 
 her persuade Lady Deane to travel to Paris 
 with her in one compartment and relegate 
 the men to another — a proposal which the 
 banished accepted by an enthusiastic major- 
 ity of two to one. The General foresaw an 
 infinity of quiet naps and Deane unin- 
 terrupted smoking ; Charlie alone chafed 
 against the necessary interruption of his 
 bold campaign, but, in face of Dora's calm 
 coldness of aspect, he did not dare to lift 
 up his voice. 
 
 Lady Deane was so engrossed in the study
 
 THE WHEEL OF LOVE 89 
 
 — or the search for opportunities of study — 
 of sides of life with which she was unfamil- 
 iar as to be, for the most part, blind to what 
 took place immediately around her. Gen- 
 eral Bellairs himself (who vaguely supposed 
 that some man might try to make love to 
 his daughter five years hence, and there- 
 upon be promptly sent off with a flea in his 
 ear) was not more unconscious than she that 
 there was, had been, or might be anything, 
 as the phrase runs, " between " the two junior 
 members of the party. Lady Deane had no 
 hints to give and no questions to ask ; she 
 seated herself placidly in a comer and be- 
 gan to write in a large note-book. She had 
 been unwillingly compelled to " scamp " 
 Marseilles, but, as she wrote, she found that 
 the rough notes she was copying, aided by 
 fresh memory, supplied her with an ample 
 fund of material. Alternately she smiled 
 contentedly to herself, and gazed out of the 
 window with a preoccupied air. Clearly 
 a plot was brewing, and the author was 
 grateful to Dora for restricting her inter- 
 ruptions to an occasional impatient sigh and 
 the taking up and dropping again of her 
 Tauchnitz.
 
 90 COMEDIES OF COURTSHIP 
 
 With the men tongues moved more. 
 
 " Well, General," said Deane, " what's 
 Miss Dora's ultimatum about your staying 
 in Paris ? " 
 
 Charlie pricked up his ears and buried 
 his face behind La Vie Parisienne. 
 
 " You'll think me very weak, Deane," re- 
 joined the General, with an apologetic laugh, 
 " but I've promised to go straight on if she 
 wants me to." 
 
 " And does she ? " 
 
 " I don't know what the child has got in 
 her head, but she says she'll tell me when 
 she gets to Paris. We shall have a day with 
 you anyhow ; I don't think she's so set on 
 not staying as she was, but I don't profess 
 to understand her fancies. Still, as you see, 
 I yield to them." 
 
 " Man's task in the world," said Deane. 
 " Eh, Charlie ? What are you hiding be- 
 hind that paper for ? " 
 
 " I was only looking at the pictures." 
 
 " Quite enough too. You're going to stay 
 in Paris, aren't you ? " 
 
 " Don't know yet, old fellow. It depends 
 on whether I get a letter calling me back or 
 not."
 
 THE WHEEL OF LOVE 91 
 
 " Hang- it, one might as well be in a house 
 where the shooting turns out a fraud. No- 
 body knows that he won't have a wire any 
 morning and have to go back to town. My 
 wife'll be furious if you desert her, General." 
 
 " Oh, I hope it won't come to that." 
 
 " I hope awfully that I shall be able to 
 stay," said Charlie, with obvious sincerity. 
 
 " Then," observed Deane with a slight 
 smile, " if the General and Miss Bellairs 
 leave us you can take my wife about." 
 
 " I should think you might take her your- 
 self," and he gently kicked Deane. He was 
 afraid of arousing the General's dormant 
 suspicions. 
 
 It was late at night when they arrived in 
 Paris, but the faithful Laing was on the 
 platform to meet them, and received them 
 with a warm greeting. While the luggage 
 was being collected by Deane's man, they 
 stood and talked on the platform. Pres- 
 ently the General, struck by a sudden 
 thought, asked : 
 
 " I suppose nothing came for us at 
 Cannes, eh, Laing ? You said you'd bring 
 anything on, you know." 
 
 Laing interrupted a pretty speech which
 
 92 COMEDIES OF COURTSHIP 
 
 he was trying to direct into Dora's inatten- 
 tive ears. 
 
 " Beg pardon, General ? " 
 
 " No letters for any of us before you left 
 Cannes ? " 
 
 " No, Gen — " he began, but suddenly 
 stopped. His mouth remained open and his 
 glass fell from his eye. 
 
 The General, not waiting to hear more 
 than the first word, had rushed off to hail 
 a cab and Deane was escorting his wife, 
 Dora and Charlie stood waiting for the un- 
 finished speech. 
 
 The end came slowly and with a prodig- 
 ious emphasis of despair. 
 
 " Oh, by Jove ! " 
 
 " Well, Mr. Laing? " said Dora. 
 
 "The morning you left — just after — there 
 were two telegrams." 
 
 " For me ? " said each of his auditors. 
 
 " One for each of you, but ■" 
 
 " Oh, give me mine." 
 
 " Hand over mine, old chap." 
 
 " I — I haven't got 'em." 
 
 "What?" 
 
 " I — I'm awfully sorry, I — I forgot 'em." 
 
 " Oh, how tiresome of you, Mr. Laing ! "
 
 THE WHEEL OF LOVE 93 
 
 " Send 'em round first thing- to-morrow, 
 Laing." 
 
 " But — but I don't know where I put 'em. 
 I know I laid 'em down. Then I took 'em 
 up. Then I put 'em — where the deuce did 
 I put 'em ? Here's a go, Miss Bellairs ! 
 I say, I am an ass ! " 
 
 No contradiction assailed him. His vic- 
 tims glared reproachfully at him. 
 
 " I must have left them at Cannes. I'll 
 wire first thing in the morning, Miss Bel- 
 lairs ; I'll get up as soon as ever the office is 
 open. I say, do forgive me." 
 
 " Well, Mr. Laing, I'll try, but " 
 
 " Laing ! Here ! My wife wants you," 
 shouted Sir Roger, and the criminal, happy 
 to escape, ran away, leaving Dora and Char- 
 lie alone. 
 
 " They must have been from them," mur- 
 mured Dora. 
 
 " No doubt ; and that fool Laing -" 
 
 " What has he done with them ? " 
 
 " Lit his pipe with them, I expect." 
 
 " Oh, what shall we do ? " 
 
 " I don't know." 
 
 " What— what do you think they said, Mr. 
 Ellerton ? "
 
 94 COMEDIES OF COURTSHIP 
 
 " How can I tell ? Perhaps that the mar- 
 riage was off ! " 
 
 " Oh ! " escaped from Dora. 
 
 " Perhaps that it was going on." 
 
 "It's worse than ever. They may have 
 asked for answers." 
 
 " Probably." 
 
 " And they won't have written here ! " 
 
 " Sure not to have." 
 
 " And — and I sha'n't know what to do. 
 I — I believe it was to say he had broken off 
 the marriage." 
 
 " Is the wish father to the thought ? " 
 
 The lights of the station flickered, but 
 Charlie saw, or thought he saw, a hasty un- 
 premeditated gesture of protest. 
 
 " Dolly ! " he whispered. 
 
 " Hush, hush ! How can you now — be- 
 fore we know ? " 
 
 " The cab's waiting," called Deane. " Come 
 along." 
 
 They got in in silence. The General and 
 the Deanes went first, and the three young 
 people followed in a second vehicle. It was 
 but just twelve, and the boulevards were gay 
 and full of people. 
 
 Suddenly, as they were near the Opera,
 
 THE WHEEL OF LOVE 95 
 
 they saw the tall figure of an unmistakable 
 Englishman walking away from them down 
 the Avenue de l'Opera. Dora clutched Char- 
 lie's arm with a convulsive grip. 
 
 " Hullo, what's the — " he began, but a 
 second pinch enforced silence. 
 
 " See that chap ? " asked Laing, pointing 
 to the figure. " He's at my hotel." 
 
 "Is he ? " said Dora in a faint voice. 
 
 " Yes, I've got a good deal of amusement 
 out of him. He oughtn't to be out so late 
 though, and by himself, too ! " 
 
 " Who is it ? " asked Charlie. 
 
 " I don't know his name." 
 
 " And why oughtn't he to be out ? " 
 
 " Because he's on his honeymoon." 
 
 " What ? " cried Dora. 
 
 " Just married," explained Laing. " Wife's 
 a tallish girl, fair, rather good - looking ; 
 looks standoffish though." 
 
 " You — you're sure they're married, Mr. 
 Laing ? " gasped Dora, and Charlie, in 
 whom her manner had awakened a suspi- 
 cion of the truth, also waited eagerly for the 
 reply. 
 
 " What, Miss Bellairs ? " asked Laing in 
 surprise.
 
 96 COMEDIES OF COURTSHIP 
 
 " Oh, I mean — I mean you haven't made a 
 mistake ? " 
 
 " Well, they're together all day, and no- 
 body's with them except a lady's-maid. I 
 should think that's good enough." 
 
 With a sigh Dora sank back against the 
 cushions. They were at the hotel now ; the 
 others had already entered, and, bidding 
 Laing a hearty good - night, Dora ran in, 
 followed closely by Charlie. He did not 
 overtake her before she found her father. 
 
 " Well, Dolly," said the General, " there's 
 no letter." 
 
 " Oh," cried Dolly, " I'll stay as long as 
 ever you like, papa." 
 
 "That's right," said Deane. "And you, 
 Charlie ? " 
 
 Charlie took his cue. 
 
 "A month if you like." 
 
 " Capital ! Now for a wash — come along, 
 Maud — and then supper ! " 
 
 Dora lingered behind the others, and 
 Charlie with her. Directly they were alone, 
 he asked : 
 
 "What does it all mean ? " 
 
 She sat down, still panting with agitation. 
 
 " Why — why, that man we saw — the man
 
 THE WHEEL OF LOVE 97 
 
 Mr. Laing says is on his honeymoon, is — 
 is " 
 
 " Yes, yes ? " 
 
 " Mr. Ashforth ! " 
 
 " Dolly ! And his wife ! By Jove ! It's 
 an exact description of Mary Travers I " 
 
 " The telegrams were to say the marriage 
 was to be at once." 
 
 " Yes, and — they're married ! " 
 
 "Yes!" 
 
 A short pause marked the astounding con- 
 clusion. Then Charlie came up very close 
 and whispered : 
 
 " Are you broken-hearted, Dolly ? " 
 
 She turned her face away with a blush. 
 
 " Are you, Dolly ? " 
 
 " I'm very much ashamed of myself," she 
 murmured. " Oh, Mr. Ellerton, not just 
 yet ! " and in deference to her entreaty Char- 
 lie had the grace to postpone what he was 
 about to do. 
 
 When the supper was ready Sir Roger 
 Deane looked round the table inquiringly. 
 
 " Well," said he, " what is it to be ? " 
 
 " Champagne — champagne in magnums ! " 
 cried Charlie Ellerton, with a ringing laugh.
 
 CHAPTER IX 
 
 MR. AND MRS. ASHFORTH (2) 
 
 Miss Bussey was much relieved when the 
 doctor pronounced her convalescent and al- 
 lowed her to come downstairs. To fall ill on 
 an outing is always exasperating-, but be- 
 yond that she felt that her enforced seclu- 
 sion was particularly unfortunate at the mo- 
 ment. Here were two young people, not 
 engaged nor going to be engaged to one an- 
 other ; and for three days or more circum- 
 stances had abandoned them to an inevitable 
 and unchaperoned tete-a-tete ! Mary made 
 light of it ; she relied on the fraternal re- 
 lationship, but that was, after all, a fiction, 
 quite incapable, in Miss Bussey's opinion, 
 of supporting the strain to which it had 
 been subjected. Besides Mary's sincerity 
 appeared doubtful ; the kind girl, anxious 
 to spare her aunt worry, made light of the 
 difficulties of her position, but Miss Bussey
 
 THE WHEEL OF LOVE 99 
 
 detected a restlessness in her manner which 
 clearly betrayed uneasiness. Here, of course, 
 Miss Bussey was wrong- ; neither Mary nor 
 John were the least self-conscious ; they felt 
 no embarrassment, but, poor creatures, wore 
 out their spirits in a useless vigil over the 
 letter-rack. 
 
 Miss Bussey was restored to active life on 
 the morning after the party from Cannes ar- 
 rived in Paris, and she hastened to empha- 
 size the fact of her return to complete health 
 by the unusual effort of coming down to 
 breakfast. She was in high feather, and her 
 cheery conversation lifted, to some extent, 
 the gloom which had settled on her young 
 friends. While exhorting to patience she 
 was full of hope, and dismissed as chimeri- 
 cal all the darker explanations which the 
 disconsolate lovers invented to account for 
 the silence their communications had met 
 with. Under her influence the breakfast- 
 table became positively cheerful, and at last 
 all the three burst into a hearty laugh at one 
 of the old lady's little jokes. 
 
 At this moment Arthur Laing entered the 
 room. His brow was clouded. He had 
 searched his purse, his cigar-case, the lining
 
 100 COMEDIES OF COURTSHIP 
 
 of his hat — in fact every depository where a 
 careful man would be likely to bestow docu- 
 ments whose existence he wished to re- 
 member ; as no careful man would put such 
 things in the pocket of his " blazer," he had 
 not searched there ; thus the telegrams had 
 not appeared, and the culprit was looking 
 forward, with some alarm, to the reception 
 which would await him when he " turned 
 up " to lunch with his friends, as he had 
 promised to do. Hardly, however, had he 
 sat down to his coffee when his sombre 
 thoughts were cleared away by the extraor- 
 dinary spectacle of young Mr. and Mrs. Asb- 
 forth hobnobbing with their maid, the latter 
 lady appearing quite at home and leading 
 the gayety and the conversation. Laing laid 
 down his roll and his knife and looked at 
 them in undisguised amazement. 
 
 For a moment doubt of his cherished the- 
 ory began to assail his mind. He heard the 
 old lady call Ashf orth " John ; " that was a 
 little strange, and it was rather strange 
 that John answered by saying : "That must 
 be as you wish ; I am entirely at your dis- 
 posal." And yet, reflected Laing, was it 
 very strange, after all ? In his own family
 
 THE WHEEL OF LOVE 101 
 
 they had an old retainer who called all the 
 children, whatever their age, by their Chris- 
 tian names, and was admitted to a degree of 
 intimacy hardly distinguishable from that 
 accorded to a relative. 
 
 Laing, weighing the evidence pro and 
 contra, decided that there was an over- 
 whelming balance in favor of his old view, 
 and dismissed the matter with the com- 
 ment that, if it ever befell him to go on a 
 wedding*-tour, he would ask his wife to take 
 a maid with rather less claims on her kind- 
 ness and his toleration. 
 
 That same morning the second pair of 
 telegrams, forwarded by post from Cannes, 
 duly arrived. Dora and Charlie, reading 
 them in the light of their recent happy in- 
 formation, found them most kind and com- 
 forting, although in reality they, apart from 
 their missing forerunners, told the recipients 
 nothing at all. John's ran : " Am in Paris at 
 European. Please write. Anxious to hear. 
 Everything decided for the best. — John." 
 Mary's to Charlie was even briefer ; it said, 
 "Am here at European. Why no answer to 
 last ? " 
 
 " It's really very kind of Mr. Ashforth,"
 
 102 COMEDIES OF COURTSHIP 
 
 said Dora to Charlie, as tliey strolled in 
 the garden of the Tuileries, " to make such 
 a point of what I think. I expect the wire 
 that stupid Mr. Laing lost was just to tell 
 me the date of the marriage." 
 
 " Not a doubt of it. Miss Tr— Mrs. Ash- 
 forth's wire to me makes that clear. They 
 want to hear that we're not desperately un- 
 happy. Well, we aren't, are we, Dolly ? " 
 
 " Well, perhaps not." 
 
 " Isn't it extraordinary how we mistook 
 our feelings ? Of course, though, it's natu- 
 ral in you. You had never been through 
 anything of the sort before. How could 
 you tell whether it was the real thing or 
 not?" 
 
 Dora shot a glance out of the corner of 
 her eye at her lover, but did not disclaim 
 the innocence he imputed to her ; she knew 
 men liked to think that, and why shouldn't 
 they, poor things ? She seized on his im- 
 plied admission and carried the war into his 
 country. 
 
 " But you, — you who are so experienced 
 — how did you come to make such a mis- 
 take ? " 
 
 Charlie was not at a loss.
 
 THE WIT EEL OF LOVE 103 
 
 "It wasn't a mistake then" he said. "I 
 was quite rig-lit then. Mary Travers was 
 about the nicest girl I had ever seen. I 
 thought her as charming as a girl could 
 be." 
 
 " Oh, you did ! Then why " 
 
 " My eyes have been opened since then." 
 
 " What did that ? " 
 
 " Why don't you ever pronounce my 
 name ? " 
 
 "Never mind your name. What opened 
 your eyes ? " 
 
 " Why, yours, of course." 
 
 " What nonsense ! They're very nice 
 about it, aren't they ? Do you think we 
 ought to call ? " 
 
 " Shall you feel it awkward ? " 
 
 "Yes, a little. Shan't you? Still we 
 must let them know we're here. Will you 
 write to Mrs. Ashforth ? " 
 
 " I suppose I'd better. After lunch '11 do, 
 won't it ? " 
 
 " Oh, yes. And I'll write a note to him. 
 I expect they won't be staying here long." 
 
 "I hope not. Hullo, it's a quarter past 
 twelve. We must be getting back. Laing's 
 coming to lunch."
 
 104 COMEDIES OF COURTSHIP 
 
 " Where are the Deanes ? " 
 
 " Lady Deane's gone to Belleville with 
 your father to see slums, and Roger's play- 
 ing tennis with Laing. He said we weren't 
 to wait lunch. Are you hungry, Dolly ? " 
 
 " Not very. It seems only an hour since 
 breakfast." 
 
 " How charming of you ! We've been 
 walking here since ten o'clock." 
 
 " Mr. Ellerton, will you be serious for a 
 minute ? I want to say something impor- 
 tant. When we meet the Ashforths there 
 mustn't be a word said about — about — you 
 know." 
 
 " Why not ? " 
 
 " Oh, I couldn't ! So soon ! Surely you 
 see that. Why, it would be hardly civil to 
 them, would it, apart from anything else ? " 
 
 " Well, it might look rather casual." 
 
 " And I positively couldn't face John 
 Ashforth. You promise, don't you ? " 
 
 "It's a nuisance, because, you see, 
 Dolly " 
 
 " You're not to get into the habit of say- 
 ing ' Dolly.' At least not yet." 
 
 "Presently?" 
 
 " If you're good. Now promise ! "
 
 THE WHEEL OF LOVE 105 
 
 "All right." 
 
 " We're not engaged." 
 
 "All right." 
 
 " Nor thinking of it." 
 
 " Rather not." 
 
 " That's very nice of you, and when the 
 Ashforths are gone " 
 
 " I shall be duly rewarded ? " 
 
 " Oh, we'll see. Do come along. Papa 
 hates being kept waiting for his meals, and 
 they must have finished their slums long 
 ago." 
 
 They found Lady Deane and the General 
 waiting for them, and the latter proposed 
 an adjournment to a famous restaurant near 
 the Opera. Thither they repaired, and or- 
 dered their lunch. 
 
 " Deane and Laing will find out where 
 we've gone and follow," said the General. 
 " We won't wait," and he resumed his con- 
 versation with Lady Deane on the events of 
 the morning. 
 
 A moment later the absentees came in ; 
 Sir Roger in his usual leisurely fashion, 
 Laing hurriedly. The latter held in his 
 hand two telegrams, or the crumpled debris 
 thereof. He rushed up to the table and
 
 106 COMEDIES OF COURTSHIP 
 
 panted out, " Found 'em in the pocket of 
 my blazer — must have put 'em there — stupid 
 ass — never thought of it — put it on for ten- 
 nis — awfully sorry." 
 
 Wasting no time in reproaches, Dora and 
 Charlie grasped their recovered property. 
 
 " Excuse me ! " they cried simultaneously, 
 and opened the envelopes. A moment later 
 both leant back in their chairs, the pictures 
 of helpless bewilderment. 
 
 Dora had read : " Marriage broken off. 
 Coming to you 28th. Write directions — 
 European, Paris." 
 
 Charlie had read : " Engagement at end. 
 Aunt and I coming to Paris — European, on 
 28th. Can you meet ? " 
 
 Lady Deane was writing in her note-book. 
 The General, Sir Roger, and Laing were 
 busy with the waiter, the menu, and the 
 wine-list. Quick as thought the lovers ex- 
 changed telegrams. They read, and looked 
 at one another. 
 
 " What does it mean ? " whispered Dora. 
 
 " You never saw anything like the lives 
 those ragpickers lead, Dora," observed Lady 
 Deane, looking up from her task. " I was 
 talking to one this morning- and he said "
 
 THE WHEEL OF LOVE 107 
 
 "Maitre d'liotel for me," broke in Sir 
 Koger. 
 
 " I haven't a notion," murmured Charlie. 
 
 " Look here, what's your liquor, Laing ? " 
 
 " Anything ; with this thirst on me " 
 
 " There are ample materials for a revolu- 
 tion more astonishing 1 and sanguinary " 
 
 " Nonsense, General, you must have some- 
 thing to drink." 
 
 " Can they have changed their minds 
 again, Dolly ? " 
 
 " They must have, if Mr. Laing is " 
 
 " Dry ? I should think I was. So would 
 you be, if you'd been playing tennis." 
 
 Laing cut across the currents of conversa- 
 tion : 
 
 " Hope no harm done, Miss Bellairs, 
 about that wire ? " 
 
 " I— I— I don't think so." 
 
 " Or yours, Charlie ? " 
 
 Charlie took a hopeful view. 
 
 "Upon my honor, Laing, I'm glad you 
 hid it." 
 
 " Oh, I see! " cried Laing. " Tip for the 
 wrong 'un, eh, and too late to put it on now ? " 
 
 "You're not far off," answered Charlie 
 Ellerton.
 
 108 COMEDIES OF COURTSHIP 
 
 " Roger, is it to-night that the General is 
 going to take me to the " 
 
 "Hush! Not before Miss Bellairs, my 
 dear! Consider her filial feelings. Tou 
 and the General must make a quiet bolt of 
 it. We're only going to the Palais-Royal" 
 
 The arrival of fish brought a momentary 
 pause, but the first mouthful was hardly 
 swallowed when Arthur Laing started, 
 hunted hastily for his eyeglass, and stuck it 
 in his eye. 
 
 " Yes, it is them," said he. " See, Charlie, 
 that table over there. They've got their 
 backs to us, but I can see 'em in the mirror." 
 
 " See who ? " asked Charlie in an irritable 
 tone. 
 
 " Why, those honeymooners. I say, Lady 
 Deane, it's a queer thing to have a lady's- 
 maid to breakf Why, by Jove, she's 
 
 with them now ! Look ! " 
 
 His excited interest aroused the attention 
 of the whole party, and they looked across 
 the long room. 
 
 " Ashforth's their name," concluded Laing. 
 " I heard the Abigail call him Ashforth ; 
 and the lady is " 
 
 He was interrupted by the clatter of a
 
 THE WHEEL OF LOVE 109 
 
 knife and fork falling- on a plate. He turned 
 in the direction whence the sound came. 
 
 Dora Bellairs leant back in her chair, her 
 hands in her lap ; Charlie Ellerton had 
 hidden himself behind the wine-list. Lady 
 Deane, her husband, and the General gazed 
 inquiringly at Dora. 
 
 At the same instant there came a shrill 
 little cry from the other end of the room. 
 The mirror had served Mary Travers as 
 well as it had Laing. For a moment she 
 spoke hastily to her companion ; then she 
 and John rose, and, with radiant smiles on 
 their faces, advanced toward their friends. 
 The long - expected meeting had come at 
 last. 
 
 Dora sat still, in consternation. Charlie, 
 peeping out from behind \n&.mmu, saw the 
 approach. 
 
 " Now, in Heaven's name," he groaned, 
 " are they married or aren't they ? " and 
 having said this he awaited the worst.
 
 CHAPTEE X 
 
 MR. AND NOT MES. ASHFORTH 
 
 Suum cuique : to the Man belongeth cour- 
 age in great things, but in affairs of small 
 moment Woman is pre-eminent. Charlie 
 Ellerton was speechless ; Dora Bellairs, by 
 a supreme effort, rose on shaking legs and 
 advanced with outstretched hands to meet 
 John Ashforth. 
 
 " Mr. Ashforth, I declare ! Who would 
 have thought of meeting you here ? " she ex- 
 claimed ; and she added in an almost im- 
 perceptible, mysterious whisper, " Hush ! " 
 
 John at once understood that he was to 
 make no reference to the communications 
 which had resulted in this happy meeting. 
 He expressed a friendly gratification in ap- 
 propriate words. Dora began to breathe 
 again ; everything was passing off well. 
 Suddenly she glanced from John to Mary. 
 Mary stood alone, about three yards from
 
 THE WHEEL OF LOVE 111 
 
 the table, gazing at Charlie. Charlie sat as 
 though paralyzed. He would ruin every- 
 thing. 
 
 " Mr. Ellerton," she called sharply. Char- 
 lie started up, but before he could reach 
 Dora's side, the latter had turned to Mary 
 and was holding out a friendly hand. Mary 
 responded with alacrity. 
 
 "Miss Bellairs, isn't it? We ought to 
 know one another. I'm so glad to meet 
 you." 
 
 Charlie was by them now. 
 
 "And how do you do, Mr. Ellerton?" 
 went on Mary, rivalling Dora in composure. 
 And she also added a barely visible and 
 quite inaudible " Hush ! " 
 
 " Who are they ? " asked Deane in a low 
 voice. 
 
 " Their name's Ashforth," answered Laing. 
 
 " God bless my soul ! " exclaimed the 
 General. " I remember him now. We made 
 his acquaintance at Interlaken, but his name 
 had slipped from my memory. And that's his 
 wife ? Fine girl, too. I must speak to him." 
 And full of kindly intent he bustled off and 
 shook John warmly by the hand. 
 
 "My dear Ashforth, delighted to meet
 
 112 COMEDIES OF COURTSHIP 
 
 you again, and under such delightful condi- 
 tions, too ! Ah, well, it only comes once in 
 a lifetime, does it ? — in your case anyhow, I 
 hope. I see Dora has introduced herself. 
 You must present me. When was it ? " 
 
 Portions of this address puzzled John con- 
 siderably, but he thought it best to do as he 
 was told. 
 
 " Mary," he said, " let me introduce Gen- 
 eral Bellairs — Miss Bellairs's father — to you. 
 General Bell " 
 
 The General interrupted him by address- 
 ing Mary with much effusion. 
 
 " Delighted to meet you. Ah, you know 
 our young friend Ellerton ? Everybody 
 does, it seems to me. Come, you must join 
 us. Waiter, two more places. Lady Deane, 
 let me introduce Mr. Ashforth. They're on 
 their " 
 
 He paused. An inarticulate sound had 
 proceeded from Mary's lips. 
 
 " Beg pardon ? " said the General. 
 
 A pin might have been heard to drop, 
 while Mary, recovering herself, said coldly : 
 
 " I think there's some mistake. I'm not 
 Mrs. Ashforth." 
 
 " Gad, it's the old 'un ! " burst in a stage
 
 THE WHEEL OF LOVE 113 
 
 whisper from Arthur Laing, who seemed de- 
 termined that John Ashforth should have a 
 wife. 
 
 The General looked to his daughter for 
 an explanation. Dora dared not show the 
 emotion pictured on her face, and her back 
 was towards the party. Charlie Ellerton 
 was staring- with a vacant look at the lady 
 who was not Mrs. Ashforth. The worst had 
 happened. 
 
 John came to the rescue. With an awk- 
 ward laugh he said : 
 
 " Oh, you — you attribute too much happi- 
 ness to me. This is Miss Travers. I — I — 
 Her aunt, Miss Bussey, and she have kindly 
 allowed me to join their travelling party. 
 Miss Bussey is at that table," and he pointed 
 to " the old 'un." 
 
 Perhaps it was as well that at this mo- 
 ment the pent-up feelings which the situa- 
 tion, and above all the remorseful horror 
 with which Laing was regarding his ficti- 
 tious lady's-maid, overcame Roger Deane. 
 He burst into a laugh. After a moment the 
 General followed heartily. Laing was the 
 next, bettering his examples in his poignant 
 mirth. Sir Roger sprang up.
 
 114 COMEDIES OF COURTSHIP 
 
 " Come, Miss Travers,"he said, " sit down. 
 Here's the fellow who gave you your new 
 name. Blame him," and he indicated Laing. 
 Then he cried, " General, we must have Miss 
 Bussey, too." 
 
 The combined party, however, was not, 
 when fully constituted by the addition of 
 Miss Bussey, a success. Two of its mem- 
 bers ate nothing- and alternated between 
 gloomy silence and forced gayety ; who 
 these were may well be guessed. Mary and 
 John found it difficult to surmount their em- 
 barrassment at the contretemps which had at- 
 tended the introduction, or their perplexity 
 over the cause of it. Laing was on thorns 
 lest his distributions of parts and stations in 
 life should be disclosed. The only bright 
 feature was the congenial feeling which ap- 
 peared at once to unite Miss Bussey and 
 Sir Roger Deane. They sat together, and, 
 aided by the General's geniality and Lady 
 Deane's supramundane calm, carried the 
 meal to a conclusion without an actual break- 
 down, ending up with a friendly wrangle 
 over the responsibility for the bill. Fi- 
 nally it was on Sir Roger's proposal that 
 they all agreed to meet at five o'clock and
 
 THE WHEEL OF LOVE 115 
 
 take coffee, or what they would, together at 
 a cafe by the water in the Bois de Boulogne. 
 With this understanding the party broke 
 up. 
 
 Dora and Charlie, lagging behind, found 
 themselves alone. They hardly dared to 
 look at one another, lest their composure 
 should fail. 
 
 " They're not married," said Charlie. 
 i "No." 
 
 "They've broken it off!" 
 
 " Yes." 
 
 " Because of us." 
 
 "Yes." 
 
 " While we " 
 
 "Yes." 
 
 " Well, in all my life, I never " 
 
 " Oh, do be quiet." 
 
 " What an infernal ass that fellow 
 Laing " 
 
 " Do you think they saw anything ? " 
 
 " No. I half wish they had." 
 
 "Oh, Mr. Ellerton, what shall we do? 
 They're still in love with us ! " 
 
 " Rather. They've been waiting for us." 
 
 Dora entered the hotel gates and sank 
 into a chair in the court-yard.
 
 116 COMEDIES OF COURTSHIP 
 
 " Well ? " she asked helplessly ; but Char- 
 lie had no suggestion to offer. 
 
 " How could they ? " she broke out indig- 
 nantly. " How could they break off their 
 marriage at the last moment like that ? 
 They — they were as good as married. It's 
 really hardly — people should know their 
 own minds." 
 
 She caught sight of a rueful smile on 
 Charlie's face. 
 
 " Oh, I know, but it's different," she add- 
 ed impatiently. " One expects it of you, but 
 I didn't expect it of John Ashforth." 
 
 " And of yourself ? " he asked softly. 
 
 " It's all your fault, you wicked boy," she 
 answered . 
 
 Charlie sighed heavily. 
 
 "We must break it to them," said he. 
 " Mary will understand ; she has such deli- 
 cacy of feeling that " 
 
 " You're always praising that girl. I be- 
 lieve you're in love with her still." 
 
 " Well, you as good as told me I wasn't 
 fit to black Ashforth's boots." 
 
 " Anyhow he wouldn't have — have — have 
 tried to make a girl care for him when he 
 knew she cared for somebody else."
 
 THE WHEEL OF LOVE 117 
 
 " Hang- it, it seems to me Ashforth isn't 
 exactly immaculate. Why, in Switzer- 
 land " 
 
 " Never mind Switzerland, Mr. Ellerton, 
 please." 
 
 A silence ensued. Then Charlie remarked, 
 with a reproachful glance at Dora's averted 
 face, 
 
 " And this is the sequel to Avignon ! I 
 shouldn't have thought a girl could change 
 so in forty-eight hours." 
 
 Dora said nothing. She held her head 
 very high in the air and looked straight in 
 front of her. 
 
 " When you gave me that kiss — " resumed 
 Charlie. 
 
 Now this form of expression was undoubt- 
 edly ambiguous ; to give a kiss may mean : 
 
 1. What it literally says— to bestow a kiss. 
 
 2. To offer one's self to be kissed. 3. To ac- 
 cept willingly a proffered kiss ; and, with- 
 out much straining of words. 4. Merely to 
 refrain from angry expostulation and a rupt- 
 ure of acquaintance when one is kissed — 
 this last partaking rather of the nature of 
 the ratification of an unauthorized act, and 
 being, in fact, the measure of Dora's crimin-
 
 118 COMEDIES OF COURTSHIP 
 
 ality. But the other shades of meaning 
 caught her attention. 
 
 " You know it's untrue ; I never did," she 
 cried angrily. " I told you at the time that 
 no gentleman would have done it." 
 
 " Oh, you mean Ashf orth, I suppose ? It's 
 always Ashf orth." 
 
 " Well, he wouldn't." 
 
 " And some girls I know wouldn't forgive 
 a man on Monday and round on him on 
 Wednesday." 
 
 " Oh, you needn't trouble to mention 
 names. I know the paragon you're think- 
 ing of!" 
 
 They were now at the hotel. 
 
 " Going in ? " asked Charlie. 
 
 "Yes." 
 
 "I suppose we shall go to the Bois to- 
 gether ? " 
 
 " I shall ask papa or Sir Roger to take 
 me." 
 
 " Then I'll go with Lady Deane." 
 
 " I don't mind who you go with, Mr. El- 
 lerton." 
 
 " I'll take care that you're annoyed as lit- 
 tle as possible by my presence." 
 
 " It doesn't annoy me."
 
 THE WHEEL OF LOVE 110 
 
 " Doesn't it, D- 
 
 " I don't notice it one way or the other." 
 
 " Oh." 
 
 " Good-by for the present, Mr. Ellerton." 
 
 " Good-by, Miss Bellairs ; but I ought to 
 thank you." 
 
 "What for?" 
 
 " For making it easy to me to do what's 
 right," and Charlie turned on his heel and 
 made rapidly for the nearest cafe, where he 
 ordered an absinthe. 
 
 Dora went wearily up to her bedroom, 
 and, sitting down, reviewed the recent con- 
 versation. She could not make out how, or 
 why, or where they had begun to quarrel. 
 Yet they had certainly not only begun but 
 made very fair progress, considering the 
 time at their disposal. It had all been 
 Charlie's fault. He must be fond of that 
 girl after all ; if so, it was not likely that 
 she would let him see that she minded. Let 
 him go to Mary Travers, if — if he liked that 
 sort of prim creature. She, Dora Bellairs, 
 would not interfere. She would have no 
 difficulty in finding someone who did care 
 for her. Poor John ! How happy he looked 
 when he saw her ! It was quite touching.
 
 120 COMEDIES OF COURTSHIP 
 
 He really looked almost — almost. To her 
 sudden annoyance and alarm she found her- 
 self finishing' the sentence thus, " almost as 
 Charlie did at Avignon." 
 
 " Oh, he's worth a thousand of Charlie," 
 she exclaimed, impatiently. 
 
 At half -past four Sir Roger Deane was 
 waiting in the hall. Presently Dora ap- 
 peared. 
 
 " Where are the others ? " she asked. 
 
 " Charlie's having a drink. Your father and 
 Maud aren't coming. They're going to rest." 
 
 " Oh, well, we might start." 
 
 " Excuse me, Miss Dora, there's some 
 powder on your nose." 
 
 " Oh, is there ? Thanks." 
 
 " What have you been powdering for ? " 
 
 "Really, Sir Roger! Besides the sun has 
 ruined my complexion." 
 
 " Oh, the sun." 
 
 " Yes. Don't be horrid. Do let's start." 
 
 " But Charlie- " 
 
 " I hate riding three in a cab." 
 
 " Oh, and I like riding alone in one, so " 
 
 "No, no. You must come with me. Mr. 
 Ellerton can follow us. He's always drink- 
 ing, isn't he ? I dislike it so."
 
 THE WHEEL OF LOVE 121 
 
 Sir Roger, with a wink at an unrespon- 
 sive plaster bust of 31. le President, followed 
 her to the door. They had just got into 
 their little victoria when Charlie appeared, 
 cigarette in hand. 
 
 " Charlie," observed Deane, " Miss Bellairs 
 thinks you'll be more comfortable by your- 
 self than perched on this front seat." 
 
 "Especially as you're smoking," added 
 Dora. " Allez, cocker." 
 
 Charlie hailed another vehicle and got in. 
 As he did so he remarked between his teeth, 
 "I'md d if I stand it."
 
 CHAPTER XI 
 
 A DYNAMITE OUTRAGE 
 
 On one side of the lake Dora and John 
 walked together, on the other Mary and 
 Charlie. Miss Bussey and Roger Deane sat 
 in the garden of the cafe. The scene round 
 them was gay. Carriages constantly drove 
 up, discharging daintily attired ladies and 
 their cavaliers. There was a constant stream 
 of bicycles, some of them steered by fair 
 riders in neat bloomer-suits ; the road- 
 waterers spread a grateful coolness in their 
 ambit, for the afternoon was hot for the 
 time of year, and the dust had an almost 
 autumnal volume. Miss Bussey had been 
 talking for nearly ten minutes on end, and 
 now she stopped with an exhausted air, and 
 sipped her coffee. Deane lit another cigar 
 and sat silently looking on at the life that 
 passed and repassed before him. 
 
 " It's a curious story," he observed at last.
 
 THE WHEEL OF LOVE 123 
 
 " Very ; but I suppose it's all ended happily 
 now. Look at them. Sir Roger." 
 
 " Oh, I see them." 
 
 " Their troubles are over at last, poor 
 children ; and really I think they've all be- 
 haved very well. And yet -" 
 
 "Yes?" 
 
 "I should have thought Maty and Mr. 
 Ashforth so suited to one another. Well, 
 well, the heart's an unaccountable thing- — to 
 an old spinster, anyhow." 
 
 "You're right, Miss Bussey. Take my 
 wife and me. You wouldn't have thought 
 we should have hit it off, would you ? First 
 year I knew her I hardly dared to speak 
 to her — used to mug up Browning and — 
 (Sir Roger here referred to an eminent liv- 
 ing writer) and chaps like that, before I 
 went to see her, you know. No use ! I 
 bored her to death. At last I chucked it 
 up." 
 
 "Well?" 
 
 " And I went one day and talked about 
 the Grand National for half an hour by the 
 clock. Well, she asked me to come again 
 next day, and I went, and told her all about 
 the last burlesque and — and so on, you
 
 124 COMEDIES OF COURTSHIP 
 
 know. And then I asked her to marry 
 me." 
 
 " And she said ' Yes ' ? " 
 
 "Not directly. She said there was an 
 impassable gulf between us — an utter want 
 of sympathy in our tastes and an irrecon- 
 cilable difference of intellectual outlook." 
 
 " Dear me ! Didn't that discourage you ? " 
 
 " I said I didn't care a dash ; she was the 
 only girl I ever cared for (all right, Miss 
 Bussey, don't laugh), and I'd have any out- 
 look she liked. I said I knew I was an ass, 
 but I thought I knew a pretty girl when 
 I saw one, and I'd go away if she'd show 
 me a prettier one." 
 
 "Well?" 
 
 "Well, she didn't." 
 
 Miss Bussey laughed a little. 
 
 "Of course," resumed Sir Roger, "I've 
 got money, you know, and all that, and per- 
 haps -" 
 
 " Sir Roger ! What a thing to say of 
 your wife ! " 
 
 " Well, with another girl — but, hang it, I 
 don't believe Maud would. Still, you see, 
 it's so dashed queer that sometimes " 
 
 " I'm sure she's very fond of you," said
 
 THE WHEEL OF LOVE 125 
 
 Miss Bussey, rather surprised at the nature 
 of the confidence which she Avas receiving. 
 
 " I expect it's all right," resumed Deane, 
 more cheerfully, " and that brings us back 
 to where we started, doesn't it ? " 
 
 " And we started in bewilderment." 
 
 " You're puzzled that Dora Bellairs and 
 Ashforth should pair off together, and ? " 
 
 " Well, the other combination would seem 
 more natural, wouldn't it? Doesn't it sur- 
 prise you a little ? " 
 
 " I'm never surprised at anything till I 
 know it's true," said Sir Boger. 
 
 "What, you ?" 
 
 They were interrupted by the return of 
 their friends, and a move was made. Three 
 vehicles were necessary to take them back, 
 for the twos could, obviously, neither be 
 separated from one another nor united with 
 anybody else, and in procession, Miss Bussey 
 and Deane leading, they filed along the 
 avenues back to the Arc de Triomphe. 
 
 They had hardly passed the open Place 
 when their progress was suddenly arrested. 
 A crowd spread almost across the broad 
 road, and sergents-de-ville imperiously com- 
 manded a halt. There was a babble of
 
 126 COMEDIES OF COURTSHIP 
 
 tongues, great excitement, and a thousand 
 eager fingers pointing at a house. The 
 doorway was in ruins, and workmen were 
 busy shoring it up with beams. In the 
 middle of the crowd there was an open 
 circle, surrounded by gendarmes, and kept 
 clear of people. In the middle of it lay a 
 thing like a rather tall slim watering-pot, 
 minus the handle. The crowd, standing on 
 tiptoe and peeping over the shoulders of 
 their guardians, shook their fists at this 
 harmless-looking article and apostrophised 
 it with a wonderful wealth of passionate in- 
 vectives. 
 
 " What in the world's the matter ? " cried 
 Miss Bussey, who was nervous in a crowd. 
 
 " Revolution, I suppose," responded Deane 
 calmly, and turning to his nearest neighbor, 
 he continued in the first French that came 
 to him, " Une autre revolution, ?i , est-ce-pas, 
 Monsieur ? " 
 
 The man stared, but a woman near him 
 burst into a voluble explanation, from the 
 folds of which unlearned English ears dis- 
 entangled, at the third reiteration, the om- 
 inous word, "Dynamite;'" and she pointed 
 to the watering-pot.
 
 THE WHEEL OF LOVE 127 
 
 "Oh, it'll go off!" shrieked Miss Bus- 
 sey. 
 
 "It's gone off," said Sir Roger. "We're 
 too late," and there was a touch of disap- 
 pointment in his voice, as he turned and 
 shouted to the others, " Keep your seats ! 
 It's all over. Only an explosion." 
 
 "Only!" shuddered Miss Bussey. "It's 
 a mercy we weren't killed." 
 
 It appeared that this mercy had not stopped 
 at Miss Bussey and her friends. Nobody 
 had been killed — not even the magistrate on 
 the third floor for whose discipline and ref- 
 ormation the occurrence had been arranged ; 
 and presently the carriages were allowed to 
 proceed. 
 
 Lady Deane's grief at having missed so 
 interesting an occasion was very poignant. 
 
 " No, Roger," said she, " it is not a mere 
 craving for horrors, or a morbid love of ex- 
 citement ; I wish I had been there to ob- 
 serve the crowd, because it's just at such mo- 
 ments that people reveal their true selves. 
 The veil is lifted — the veil of hypocrisy 
 and convention — and you see the naked 
 soul." 
 
 " You could hear it too, Maud," observed
 
 128 COMEDIES OF COURTSHIP 
 
 Sir Roger. " Fine chance of improving your 
 French vocabulary. Still, I daresay you're 
 right." 
 
 " I'm sure I am." 
 
 Deane looked at his wife meditatively. 
 
 "You think," he asked, "that being in 
 danger might make people " 
 
 " Reveal their inmost natures and feel- 
 ings? I'm sure of it." 
 
 " Gad ! Then we might try." 
 
 "What do you mean, Roger? " 
 
 " Nothing. You're going out with the 
 General to-night ? Very well, I shall take 
 a turn on my own hook." 
 
 As he strolled toward the smoking-room, 
 he met Charlie Ellerton. 
 
 " Well, old fellow, had a pleasant after- 
 noon ? " 
 
 " Glorious ! " answered Charlie in a husky 
 voice. 
 
 " Are we to congratulate you ? " 
 
 " I — I — well, it's not absolutely settled yet, 
 Deane, but — soon, I hope." 
 
 " That's right. Miss Bussey told me the 
 whole story, and I think you're precious 
 lucky to get such a girl." 
 
 " Yes, aren't I ? "
 
 THE WHEEL OF LOVE 129 
 
 "You don't look over and above radiant." 
 
 " Do you want me to go grinning - about 
 the hotel like an infernal hyena ? " 
 
 " I think a chastened joy would be appro- 
 priate." 
 
 " Don't be an ass, Deane. I suppose you 
 think you're funny." 
 
 Sir Roger passed on, with a smile on his 
 lips. As he passed the reading-room Dora 
 Bellairs came out. 
 
 " Well, Miss Dora, enjoyed your after- 
 noon?" 
 
 " Oh, awfully — except that dreadful ex- 
 plosion." 
 
 " You must excuse a friend, you know. 
 I'm awfully glad it's all come right in the 
 end." 
 
 " You — you're very kind, Sir Eoger. It's 
 — it's — there's nothing quite settled yet." 
 
 " Oh, of course not, but still — ! Well, I 
 heard all about it and I think he's worthy 
 of you. I can't say more. He seems a cap- 
 ital fellow." 
 
 " Yes, isn't he ? I " 
 
 "Yes?" 
 
 " Oh, I'm very, very, very happy," and, 
 after making this declaration in a shaky 
 9
 
 130 COMEDIES OF COURTSHIP 
 
 voice, she fairly ran away down the passage. 
 Deane watched her as she went. 
 
 " Maud's right," said he. " She always 
 is. There's nothing for it but dynamite. I 
 wonder where it's to be got ? " 
 
 General Bellairs clapped him on the 
 shoulders. 
 
 " Inclined for a turn, Deane ? I'm going 
 to see an old servant of mine — Painter's his 
 name. He married my poor wife's French 
 maid, and set up as a restaurant-keeper in 
 the Palais-Royal. I always look him up 
 when I come to Paris." 
 
 "I'm your man," answered Deane, and 
 they set out for Mr. Painter's establishment. 
 It proved to be a neat little place, neither 
 of the very cheap nor of the very sumptuous 
 class, and the General was soon promising 
 to bring the whole party to dejeuner there. 
 Painter was profuse in thanks and called 
 Madame to thank the General. The Gen- 
 eral at once entered into conversation with 
 the trim little woman. 
 
 " Nice place yours, Painter," observed 
 Deane. 
 
 " Pleased to hear you say so, Sir 
 Bosrer."
 
 THE WHEEL OF LOVE 131 
 
 " Very nice. Ah — er — heard of the explo- 
 sion?" 
 
 " Yes, Sir Koger. Abominable thing-, sir. 
 These Socialists " 
 
 "Quite so. Never had one here, I sup- 
 pose ? " 
 
 " No, sir. We're pretty well looked after 
 in here." 
 
 " Like one ? " asked Deane. 
 
 " Beg pardon, sir. Ha-ha. No, sir." 
 
 " Because I want one." 
 
 " You — beg pardon, sir ? " 
 
 "Look here, Painter. I'll drop in here 
 after dinner for some coffee. I want to talk 
 to you. See ? Not a word to the General." 
 
 " Glad to see you, Sir Koger, but " 
 
 " All right. I'll put you up to it. Here 
 they come. Present me to Madame." 
 
 They went away, having arranged with 
 the Painters for luncheon and a private room 
 on the next day but one. 
 
 " Lunch for eight," said Deane. " At 
 least, General, I thought we might ask our 
 friends from the European." 
 
 " Yes — and young Laing." 
 
 " Oh, I forgot him. Yes, Laing, of course. 
 For nine — neuf, you know, please, madame."
 
 132 COMEDIES OF COURTSHIP 
 
 " That's all right," said the General. " I'm 
 glad to do him a turn." 
 
 " Yes, that's all right," assented Sir Roger, 
 with the slightest possible chuckle. " We 
 shall have a jolly lunch, eh, General ? "
 
 CHAPTER Xn 
 
 ANOTHER ! 
 
 " I shall never, never forget your gener- 
 osity, John." 
 
 "No, Mary. It was your honesty and 
 courage that did it." 
 
 " I told Mr. Ellerton the whole story, and 
 he seemed positively astonished." 
 
 " And Miss Bellairs admitted that when 
 she wrote she considered such a thing ut- 
 terly impossible. She's changed a little, 
 Mary. She's not so cheerful and light- 
 hearted as she used to be." 
 
 " Think what she's gone through. I've no- 
 ticed just the same in Mr. Ellerton, but " 
 
 " You hope to restore him soon ? " 
 
 " Oh, well, I expect Miss Bellairs — what 
 a pretty girl she is, John— will soon revive 
 too, now she is with you again. John, have 
 you observed anything peculiar in Aunt 
 Sarah's manner ? "
 
 134 COMEDIES OF COURTSHIP 
 
 " To tell you the truth, I fancied she was 
 rather short with me once or twice at din- 
 ner." 
 
 " I believe she is — isn't pleased at — at 
 what's happened. She hasn't taken much 
 to Mr. Ellerton, and you know she liked you 
 so much, that I think she still wants you as 
 one of the family." 
 
 John laughed : then he leant forward and 
 said in a low voice : 
 
 " Have you settled anything- about dates ? " 
 
 " No. Mr. Ellerton — well he didn't intro- 
 duce the subject : so of course I didn't. 
 Have you ? " 
 
 " No, we haven't. I made some sugges- 
 tion of the kind, but Miss Bellairs didn't 
 fall in with it. She won't even let me ask 
 her father's consent just yet." 
 
 " Mr. Ellerton proposes not to announce 
 our — anything — for a few days." 
 
 " Well," said John, " I shall insist on an 
 announcement very shortly, and you ought 
 to do the same, Mary. We know the 
 evils — " He checked himself, but Mary was 
 not embarrassed. 
 
 " Of secret engagements ? " she said 
 calmly. " We do indeed."
 
 THE WHEEL OF LOVE 135 
 
 " Besides it's a bore. I couldn't go with 
 Miss Bellairs to the theatre to-night, be- 
 cause she said it would look too marked." 
 
 " Yes, and Mr. Ellerton said that if he 
 dined here he might as well announce our 
 engagement from the statue of Strasburg." 
 
 John frowned, and Mary perceiving the 
 bent of his thoughts ventured to say, though 
 with a timid air unusual to her : 
 
 " I think they're the least little bit incon- 
 siderate, don't you, John — after all we have 
 done for them ? " 
 
 " Well, I don't mind admitting that I do 
 feel that. I do not consider that Miss Bel- 
 lairs quite appreciates the effort I have 
 made." 
 
 Mary sighed. 
 
 " We mustn't expect too much of them, 
 must we ? " she asked. 
 
 " I suppose not," John conceded ; but he 
 still frowned. 
 
 When we consider how simple the ele- 
 ments of perfect happiness appear to be, re- 
 garded in the abstract, it becomes surpris- 
 ing to think how difficult it is to attain them 
 in the concrete. A kind magician may grant 
 us all we ask, may transport us whither we
 
 136 COMEDIES OF COURTSHIP 
 
 would go, dower us with all we lack, bring- 
 to us one desired companion after another, 
 but something is wrong. We have a tooth- 
 ache, or in spite of our rich curtains there's 
 a draught, or the loved one haps not to be 
 at the moment congenial : and we pitifully 
 pray the wizard to wave his wand again. 
 Would any magician wave his for these 
 four troublesome folk ? It must be admit- 
 ted that they hardly deserved it. 
 
 Nevertheless a magician was at work, and, 
 with the expiration of the next night, his 
 train was laid. At eleven o'clock in the fore- 
 noon of Friday, Roger Deane had a final 
 interview with the still hesitating Painter. 
 
 " But if the police should come, Sir Ro- 
 ger ? " urged the fearful man. 
 
 " Why, you'll look a fool, that's all. Isn't 
 the figure high enough ? " 
 
 " Most liberal, Sir Roger, but — but it will 
 alarm my wife." 
 
 " If you come to that, it'll alarm my 
 wife." 
 
 " Very true, Sir Roger." Painter seemed 
 to derive some comfort from this indirect 
 community of feeling with the aristocracy. 
 
 "It'll alarm everybody, I hope. That's
 
 THE WHEEL OF LOVE 137 
 
 what it's for. Now mind — 2.30 sharp — and 
 when the coffee's been in ten minutes. Not 
 before ! I must have time for coffee." 
 
 " Very good, Sir Roger." 
 
 " Is the ladder ready ? " 
 
 " Yes, Sir Roger." 
 
 " And the what's-its-name ? " 
 
 " Quite ready, Sir Roger." 
 
 " Let's see it." 
 
 It was inspected and pronounced satisfac- 
 tory. Then Roger Deane set out to return 
 to his hotel, murmuring contentedly : 
 
 " If that don't make up their minds for 
 'em, I don't know what will." 
 
 Then he paused suddenly. 
 
 " Gad ! "Will the women have hysterics ? " 
 he asked, but in a moment he added, reas- 
 suring himself, " Maud never has, and, hang 
 it, we must chance the rest." 
 
 Arrived at home he found Arthur Laing 
 kicking his heels in the smoking-room. 
 
 "Lunching with you today, ain't I, some- 
 where in the Palais-Royal ? " asked the vis- 
 itor. 
 
 ''Yes, some place the General's found 
 out. Look here, Laing, are you a nervous 
 man ? "
 
 138 COMEDIES OF COURTSHIP 
 
 " Nervous ! "What do you take me for ? " 
 
 " Lose your head in moments of excite- 
 ment ? " 
 
 " I never have 'em." 
 
 " Oh, well, hang you ! I say, Laing, 
 you're not a fool. Just look here. Any- 
 thing I say — anything, mind — at lunch to- 
 day, you're not to contradict. You're to 
 back me up." 
 
 "Right you are, old chap." 
 
 " And the more infernal nonsense it sounds, 
 the more you're to take your oath about it." 
 
 " I'm there." 
 
 " And finally, you're on no account to lay 
 a finger either on Miss Travers or on Dora 
 Bellairs." 
 
 " Hullo ! I'm not in the habit of beating 
 women at any time, let alone at a lunch- 
 party." 
 
 " I mean what I say : you're not to touch 
 either of them. If you do you'll spoil it. 
 You're to go for Miss Bussey." 
 
 " She's not done me any harm." • 
 
 " Never mind. As soon as the row begins 
 and I say, ' Save the ladies ! ' you collar 
 Miss Bussey. See ? " 
 
 " Oh, I see. Seems to me we're going to
 
 THE WHEEL OF LOVE 139 
 
 have a lively lunch. Am I to carry the old 
 lady?" 
 
 "Yes." 
 
 " Oh, by Jove ! How's my biceps ? Just 
 feel, will you ? " 
 
 Deane felt and gravely pronounced the 
 muscle to be equal to its task. Laing was 
 much gratified, and awaited the unknown 
 future with philosophic patience. 
 
 Sir Roger had predicted " a jolly lunch," 
 but, in its early stages, the entertainment 
 hardly earned this description. Something 
 was wrong somewhere ; Dora started by re- 
 fusing, very pointedly, to sit near Charlie 
 Ellerton ; and yet, when she found herself 
 between Ashforth and Laing, she was ab- 
 sent, silent, and melancholy. Charlie, on 
 the other hand, painfully practised a la- 
 bored attentiveness to Mary Travers which 
 contrasted ill with his usual spontaneous 
 and gay courtesy. Miss Bussey wore an air 
 of puzzled gravity, and Laing kept looking 
 at her with a calculating eye. He seemed 
 to be seeking the best grip. Lady Deane 
 and the General, engrossed in a tete-a-tete 
 discussion, did little to promote the hilarity 
 of the table, and it was left to Deane to
 
 UO COMEDIES OF COURTSHIP 
 
 maintain the flow of conversation as he best 
 could. Apparently he found the task a 
 heavy one, for, before long-, he took a news- 
 paper out of his pocket, and, apropos to one 
 of his own remarks, began to read a highly 
 decorated account of the fearful injuries 
 under which the last victim of the last dia- 
 bolical explosion had been in danger of suc- 
 cumbing. Sir Roger read his gruesome nar- 
 rative with much emphasis, and as he laid 
 down the paper he observed : 
 
 " Well, I hope I'm not more of a coward 
 than most men, but in face of dynamite — 
 ugh ! " and he shuddered realistically. 
 
 " I should make for the door," said Laing. 
 
 " Yes, but in this case the bomb was at the 
 door!" 
 
 "Then," said Laing, "I should exit by the 
 window." 
 
 " But this poor man," remarked Mary 
 Travers, " stayed to rescue the woman he 
 loved," and her eyes rested for an instant ir 
 confident affection on Charlie Ellerton. 
 
 " We should all do as much, I trust," said 
 John, glancing at Dora Bellairs. 
 
 " I'm sure I hope you won't have to," said 
 Dora, rather ungraciously.
 
 THE WHEEL OF LOVE 141 
 
 ** Think what a convincing 1 test of affec- 
 tion it would be," suggested Deane persua- 
 sively. " After that you could never doubt 
 that the man loved you." 
 
 " My good Sir Roger," observed Miss Bus- 
 sey, " it would be common humanity." 
 
 " Suppose there were two girls," said 
 Laing, " and you couldn't take 'em both ! " 
 
 Deane hastily interposed. 
 
 " Haven't we had enough of this dreary 
 subject?" he asked, and he frowned slight- 
 ly at Laing. 
 
 " Isn't it about time for coffee ? " the Gen- 
 eral suggested. 
 
 Deane looked at his watch. 
 
 "What does the time matter, Deane, if 
 we're ready ? " 
 
 "Not a bit. 2.20. That's all right," and 
 he rang the bell. 
 
 Painter came in with the coffee : the lit- 
 tle man looked rather pale and nervous, but 
 succeeded in serving the company without 
 upsetting the cups. He came to Deane 
 last. 
 
 " Is everything ready ? " whispered that 
 gentleman, and receiving a trembling " Yes, 
 sir," he added, " in ten minutes."
 
 142 COMEDIES OF COURTSHIP 
 
 "This," lie observed out loud, "has been 
 a pleasant gathering — a pleasant end to our 
 outing." 
 
 "What? You're going?" asked Miss 
 Bussey. 
 
 " Yes : my wife and I cross to England 
 to-morrow." 
 
 " I shall go the next day," announced the 
 General, " if Dora is ready." 
 
 John threw a glance toward Dora, but she 
 was busy drinking her coffee. 
 
 "Well," said Deane, "I hope we may 
 soon meet again, under equally delightful 
 circumstances, in London. At any rate," he 
 added with a laugh, " there we shall be safe 
 from " 
 
 Crash ! A loud noise came from the door, 
 as if of some metallic substance thrown 
 against the panels. 
 
 " Hullo ! " said Laing. 
 
 " Oh, somebody tumbled downstairs," 
 said Deane reassuringly. "Don't move, 
 Miss Bussey." 
 
 "Oh, but Sir Eoger, what is it? What 
 do you think ? It didn't sound at all like 
 what you say." 
 
 The General laughed.
 
 THE WHEEL OF LOVE 143 
 
 " Come, Miss Bussey, I don't suppose 
 it's " 
 
 As he spoke the form of Painter appeared 
 at the open window. He was breathless, 
 and shrieked hastily : 
 
 " Dynamite, dynamite ! Save yourselves ! 
 It'll be off in a minute." 
 
 " Then I shall be off in half a minute," 
 said Laing. 
 
 There was a rush to the door, and Laing, 
 remembering- his instructions, joined has- 
 tily in it. 
 
 " No, no. The bomb's there ! " cried 
 Painter, excitedly. 
 
 They stood still in horror for ten seconds. 
 
 " To the window, to the window, for your 
 lives ! Save the ladies ! " cried Sir Boger 
 Deane.
 
 CHAPTER Xni 
 
 FAITHFUL TO DEATH 
 
 The ladies looked at one another. Even 
 in that awful moment, the becoming-, the 
 seemly, the dignified had its claims. The 
 window was narrow : the ladder — Mary 
 Travers had gone to look at it — was steep : 
 a little, curious, excited crowd was gather- 
 ing below. Deane saw their hesitation. 
 He rushed to the door and cautiously 
 opened it. The thing was there ! Across 
 the very entrance — that villainous oblong 
 case! And from below came a shriek — it 
 was Madame's voice, and a cry of " Quick ! 
 quick ! " 
 
 " This," said the General firmly (he had 
 been through the Mutiny), "is not a time 
 for punctilio. Excuse me," and he lifted 
 Lady Deane in his stalwart arms and bore 
 her toward the window. 
 
 With a distant reminiscence of the ball-
 
 THE WHEEL OF LOVE 145 
 
 room, Arthur Laing approached Miss Bus- 
 sey, murmuring "May I have the — " and 
 with a mighty effort swung the good lady 
 from the ground. She clutched his cravat 
 wildly, crying " Save me ! " 
 
 Mary Travers was calmness itself. "With 
 quiet mien and unfaltering voice, she laid 
 her hand on Charlie's arm and murmured : 
 
 "I am ready, Charlie." 
 
 At the same moment John Ashforth, the 
 light of heroism in his eye, whispered to 
 Dora, "You must trust yourself implicitly 
 to me." 
 
 " Quick, quick ! " cried Deane, " or it's all 
 up with you. Quick, Ashforth ! Quick, 
 Charlie, quick, man ! " 
 
 There was one more pause. Mary's hand 
 pressed a little harder. John's arm was ad- 
 vancing towards Dora's waist. Sir Roger 
 looked on with apparent impatience. 
 
 " Are you never going ? " he called. 
 " Must I " 
 
 Suddenty a loud cry rang out. It came 
 from Miss Bellairs. 
 
 " Oh, Charlie, save me, save me ! " she 
 
 cried, and then and there flung herself into 
 
 his arms. 
 
 10
 
 146 COMEDIES OF COURTSHIP 
 
 " My darling- ! " lie whispered loudly, and 
 catching- her up made for the window. As 
 they disappeared through it, Deane softly 
 and swiftly opened the door and disap- 
 peared in his turn. Mary and John were 
 left alone. Then Mary's composure gave 
 way. Sinking into a chair she cried : 
 
 "And I am left! Nobody cares for me. 
 What shall I do ? " 
 
 In an instant John's strong arm was 
 round her. " I care for you ! " he cried, and 
 raising her almost senseless form, he rushed 
 to the window. The ladder was gone ! 
 
 " Gone ! " he shrieked. " Where is it ? " 
 
 There was no answer. The little crowd 
 had gone too. 
 
 "We are lost," he said. 
 
 Mary opened her eyes. 
 
 " Lost ! " she echoed. 
 
 " Lost ! Abandoned — by those who loved 
 — ah, no, no, Mary. In the hour of danger 
 — then we see the truth ! " 
 
 Mary's arms clasped him closer. 
 
 "Ah, John, John," she said, "we must 
 die together, dear." 
 
 John stooped and kissed her. 
 
 Suddenly the door was opened and Deane
 
 THE WHEEL OF LOVE 147 
 
 entered. He wore a comically apologetic 
 look, and carried an oblong 1 metal vessel in 
 his right hand. 
 
 " Excuse me," he said. " There's been 
 — er — slight but very natural mistake. 
 It wasn't — er — exactly dynamite — it's — er 
 — a preserved-peach tin. That fool Paint- 
 er " 
 
 " Then we're safe ! " cried Mary. 
 
 "Yes, thank Heaven," answered Deane 
 fervently. 
 
 "Oh, John!" she cried. 
 
 Sir Eoger, with a smile, retired and closed 
 the door after him. 
 
 Downstairs Lady Deane and Miss Bussey, 
 forgetful of their sufferings, were restoring 
 Madame Painter to her senses ; Painter was 
 uncorking a bottle of champagne for Arthur 
 Laing ; Sir Roger Deane was talking in a 
 low voice and persuasive tones to an im- 
 posing representative of the police. What 
 passed between them is unknown ; possibly 
 only words, possibly something else ; at any 
 rate, after a time, Deane smiled, the great 
 man smiled responsively, saluted, and dis- 
 appeared, murmuring something about An- 
 glais, milords, and droles. The precise pur-
 
 148 COMEDIES OF COURTSHIP 
 
 port of his reflections could not be distinctly 
 understood by those in the house, for civil- 
 ity made him inarticulate, but when he was 
 safely outside he looked at a piece of crisp 
 paper in his hand, then, with his thumb 
 pointing over his shoulder, he gave an im- 
 mense shrug, and exclaimed : 
 
 " Mais voila un fou ! " and to this day he 
 considers Roger Deane the very type of a 
 maniac. 
 
 Mary and John descended. As soon as 
 they appeared Dora jumped up from her 
 seat and ran towards John, crying, 
 
 " Oh, Mr. Ashforth ! " 
 
 While Charlie, advancing more timidly to 
 Mary, murmured : " Forgive me, but " 
 
 Mary with a slight bow, John with a lift 
 of his hat, both without a halt or a word, 
 passed through the room, arm-in-arm, and 
 vanished from Mr. Painter's establishment. 
 
 Sir Roger had seized on Laing's cham- 
 pagne and was pouring it out. He stopped 
 now, and looked at Dora. A sudden gleam 
 of intelligence glanced from her eyes. 
 Rushing up to him, she whispered, " You 
 did it all ? It was all a hoax ? " 
 
 He nodded.
 
 THE WHEEL OF LOVE 149 
 
 "And why?" 
 
 " Ask Charlie Ellerton," he answered. 
 
 " Oh, but Mr. Ashforth and Mary Travers 
 are so angry ! " 
 
 "With one another?" 
 
 " No, with us." 
 
 Sir Roger looked her mercilessly full in 
 the face, regardless of her blushes. 
 
 "That," he observed with emphasis, "is 
 exactly what you wanted, Miss Bellairs." 
 
 Then he turned to the company, holding 
 a full glass in his hand. " Ladies and gen- 
 tlemen," said he, " some of us have had a 
 narrow escape. Whether we shall be glad 
 of it or sorry hereafter, I don't know — do 
 you, Charlie ? But here's a health to " 
 
 But Dora, glancing apprehensively at the 
 General, whispered, " Not yet ! " 
 
 " To Dynamite ! " said Sir Roger Deane. 
 
 POSTSCRIPT 
 
 It should be added that a fuller, more 
 graphic, and more sensational account of 
 the outrage in the Palais-Royal than this 
 pen has been capable of inscribing will ap- 
 pear, together with much other curious and 
 enlightening matter, in Lady Deane's next
 
 150 COMEDIES OF COURTSHIP 
 
 work. The author also takes occasion in 
 that work — and there is little doubt that the 
 subject was suggested by the experiences of 
 some of her friends— to discuss the nature, 
 quality, and duration of the Passion of 
 Love. She concludes — if it be permissible 
 thus far to anticipate the publication of her 
 book — that all True Love is absolutely per- 
 manent and indestructible, untried by cir- 
 cumstance and untouched by time ; and this 
 opinion is, she says, indorsed by every 
 woman who has ever been in love. Thus 
 fortified, the conclusion seems beyond cavil. 
 If, therefore, any incidents here recorded 
 appear to conflict with it, we must imi- 
 tate the discretion of Plato and say, either 
 these persons were not Sons of the Gods — 
 that is, True Lovers — or they did not do 
 such things. Unfortunately, however, Lady 
 Deane's proof-sheets were accessible too 
 late to allow of the title of this story being 
 changed. So it must stand — "The Wheel 
 of Love ; " but if any lady (men are worse 
 than useless) will save the author's credit by 
 proving that wheels do not go round, he 
 will be very much obliged — and will offer 
 her every facility.
 
 THE LADY OF THE POOL
 
 THE LADY OF THE POOL 
 
 CHAPTEK I 
 
 A FIRM BELIEVER 
 
 " I SEE Mr. Vansittart Merceron's at the 
 
 1 Court again, mamma." 
 
 "Yes, dear. Lady Merceron told me he 
 was coming. She wanted to consult him 
 about Charlie." 
 
 " She's always consulting him about Char- 
 lie, and it never makes any difference." 
 
 Mrs. Bushell looked up from her needle- 
 work ; her hands were full with needle and 
 stuff, and a couple of pins protruded from 
 her lips. She glanced at her daughter, who 
 stood by the window in the bright blaze of a 
 brilliant sunset, listlessly hitting the blind- 
 cord and its tassel to and fro. 
 
 " The poor boy's very young still," mum- 
 bled Mrs. Bushell through her pins.
 
 154 COMEDIES OF COURTSHIP 
 
 " He's twenty -five last month," returned 
 Millicent. " I know, because there's exactly 
 three years between him and me." 
 
 The sinking - rays defined Miss Bushell's 
 form with wonderful clearness. She was 
 very tall, and the severe well-cut cloth gown 
 she wore set off the stately lines of her fig- 
 ure. She had a great quantity of fair hair 
 and a handsome face, spoilt somewhat by a 
 slightly excessive breadth across the cheeks ; 
 as her height demanded or excused, her 
 hands and feet were not small, though well 
 shaped. Would Time have arrested his 
 march for ever, there would have been small 
 fault to find with Nature's gifts to Miss 
 Bushell ; but, as her mother said, Millie was 
 just what she had been at twenty-one ; and 
 Mrs. Bushell was now extremely stout. 
 Millie escaped the inference by discrediting 
 her mother's recollection. 
 
 The young lady wore her hat, and presently 
 she turned away from the window, remark- 
 ing: 
 
 " I think I shall go for a stroll. I've had 
 no exercise to-day." 
 
 Either inclination, or perhaps that 
 threatening possibility from which she strove
 
 THE LADY OF THE POOL 155 
 
 to avert her eyes, made Millie a devotee of 
 active pursuits. She hunted, she rode, she 
 played lawn-tennis, and, when at the sea- 
 side, golf ; when all failed, she walked reso- 
 lutely four or five miles on the high-road, 
 swinging along at a healthy pace, and never 
 pausing save to counsel an old woman or re- 
 buke a truant urchin. On such occasions 
 her manner (for we may not suppose that her 
 physique aided the impression) suggested 
 the benevolent yet stern policeman, and the 
 vicar acknowledged in her an invaluable 
 assistant. By a strange coincidence she 
 seemed to suit the house she lived in — one 
 of those large white square dwellings, de- 
 void of ornament, yet possessing every sub- 
 stantial merit, and attaining, by virtue of 
 their dimensions and simplicity, an effect of 
 handsomeness denied to many more tricked- 
 out buildings. The house satisfied ; so did 
 Millie, unless the judge were very critical. 
 
 " I shall just walk round by the Pool and 
 back," she added as she opened the door. 
 
 " My dear, it's four miles ! " 
 
 " Well, it's only a little after six, and we 
 don't dine till eight." 
 
 Encountering no further opposition than a
 
 156 COMEDIES OF COURTSHIP 
 
 sigh of admiration — three hundred yards was 
 the limit of pleasure in a walk to her mother 
 — Millie Bushell started on her way, dan- 
 gling 1 a neat ebony stick in her hand, and set- 
 ting her feet down with a firm decisive tread. 
 It did not take her long to cover the two 
 miles between her and her destination. 
 Leaving the road, she entered the grounds 
 of the Court and, following a little path 
 which ran steeply down hill, she found her- 
 self by the willows and reeds fringing the 
 edge of the Pool. Opposite to her, on the 
 higher bank, some seven or eight feet above 
 the water, rose the temple, a small classical 
 erection, used now, when at all, as a sum- 
 mer-house, but built to commemorate the 
 sad fate of Agatha Merceron. The sun had 
 just sunk, and the Pool looked chill and 
 gloomy ; the deep water under the temple 
 was black and still. Millie's robust mind 
 was not prone to superstition, yet she was 
 rather relieved to think that, with the sun 
 only just gone, there was a clear hour before 
 Agatha Merceron would come out of the 
 temple, slowly and fearfully descend the 
 shallow flight of marble steps, and lay her- 
 self down in the water to die. That hap-
 
 THE LADY OF THE POOL 157 
 
 pened every evening", according 1 to the 
 legend, an hour after sunset— every evening, 
 for the last two hundred years, since poor 
 Agatha, bereft and betrayed, had found the 
 Pool kinder than the world, and sunk her 
 sorrow and her shame and her beauty there 
 — such shame and such beauty as had never 
 been before or after in all the generations of 
 the Mercerons. 
 
 " What nonsense it all is ! " said Millie 
 aloud. " But I'm afraid Charlie is silly 
 enough to believe it." 
 
 As she spoke her eye fell on a Canadian 
 canoe, which lay at the foot of the steps. 
 She recognized it as Charlie Merceron's, 
 and, knowing that approach to the temple 
 from the other side was to be gained only 
 by a difficult path through a tangled wood, 
 and that the canoe usually lay under a lit- 
 tle shed a few yards from where she stood, 
 she concluded that Charlie was in the tem- 
 ple. There was nothing surprising in that : 
 it was a favorite haunt of his. She raised 
 her voice and called to him. At first no 
 answer came, and she repeated : 
 
 " Charlie ! Charlie ! " 
 
 After a moment of waiting a head was
 
 158 COMEDIES OF COURTSHIP 
 
 thrust out of a window in the side of the 
 temple — a head in a straw hat. 
 
 " Hullo ! " said Charlie Merceron in tones 
 of startled surprise. Then, seeing the visi- 
 tor, he added : " Oh, it's you, Millie ! How 
 did you know I was here ? " 
 
 " By the canoe, of course." 
 
 " Hang the canoe ! " muttered Charlie, 
 and his head disappeared. A second later 
 he came out of the doorway and down the 
 steps. Standing- on the lowest, he shouted 
 — the Pool was about sixty feet across — 
 " What do you want ? " 
 
 " How rude you are ! " shouted Miss 
 Bush ell in reply. 
 
 Charlie got into the canoe and began to 
 paddle across. He had just reached the 
 other side, when Millie screamed : 
 
 " Look, look, Charlie ! " she cried. " The 
 temple ! " 
 
 " What ? " 
 
 " I — I saw something white at the window." 
 
 Charlie got out of the canoe hastily. 
 
 " What ? " he asked again, walking up to 
 Miss Bushell. 
 
 " I declare I saw something white at the 
 window. Oh, Charlie ! But it's all "
 
 THE LADY OF THE POOL 159 
 
 " Bosh ? Of course it is. There's noth- 
 ing in the temple." 
 
 " Well, I thought — I wonder you like to be 
 there." 
 
 "Why shouldn't I?" 
 
 The mysterious appearance not being re- 
 peated, Millie's courage returned. 
 
 " I thought you believed in the ghost," 
 she said, smiling. 
 
 " So I do, but I don't mind it." 
 
 " You've never seen it ? " 
 
 " Supposing I haven't ? That doesn't 
 prove it's not true." 
 
 " But you're often here at the time ? " 
 
 " Never," answered Charlie with emphasis. 
 " I always go away before the time." 
 
 " Then you'd better come now. Put the 
 canoe to bed and walk with me." 
 
 Charlie Merceron thrust his hands into 
 his pockets and smiled at his companion. 
 He was tall also, and just able to look down 
 on her. 
 
 " No," he said, " I'm not going yet." 
 
 " How rude — oh, there it is again, Charlie ! 
 I saw it ! I'm — I'm frightened," and her 
 healthy color paled a trifle, as she laid a 
 hand on Charlie's arm.
 
 160 COMEDIES OF COURTSHIP 
 
 " I tell you what," observed Charlie. " If 
 you have fancies of this kind you'd better 
 not come here any more — not in the even- 
 ing, at all events. You know people who 
 think they're going 1 to see things always 
 do see 'em." 
 
 " My heart is positively beating," said Miss 
 Bushell. "I — I don't quite like walking 
 back alone." 
 
 " I'll see you as far as the road," Charlie 
 conceded, and with remarkable promptitude 
 he led the way, turning his head over his 
 shoulder to remark : 
 
 " Keally, if you're so nervous, you oughtn't 
 to come here." 
 
 " I never will again — not alone, I mean." 
 
 Charlie had breasted the hill with such 
 goodwill that they were already at the 
 road. 
 
 " And you're really going back ? " she 
 asked. 
 
 " Oh, just for a few minutes. I left my 
 book in the temple — I was reading there. 
 She's not due for half an hour yet, you 
 know." 
 
 " What — what happens if you see her ? " 
 
 " Oh, you die," answered Charlie. " Good-
 
 THE LADY OF THE POOL 1G1 
 
 night ; " and with a smile and a nod he ran 
 down the hill towards the Pool. 
 
 Miss Bushell, cavalierly deserted, made 
 her way home at something more than her 
 usual rate of speed. She had never believed 
 in that nonsense, but there was certainly 
 something- white at that window — some- 
 thing white that moved. Under the circum- 
 stances, Charlie really might have seen her 
 home, she thought, for the wood - fringed 
 road was gloomy, and dusk coming on 
 apace. Besides, where was the hardship in 
 being her escort ? 
 
 Doubtless none, Charlie would have an- 
 swered, unless a man happened to have 
 other fish to fry. The pace at which the 
 canoe crossed the Pool and brought up at 
 its old moorings witnessed that he had no 
 leisure to spend on Miss Bushell. Leaping 
 out, he ran up the steps into the temple, cry- 
 ing in a loud whisper : 
 
 " She's gone ! " 
 
 The temple was empty, and Charlie, look- 
 ing round in vexation, added : 
 
 " So has she, by Jingo ! " 
 
 He sat down disconsolately on the low 
 marble seat that ran round the little shrine. 
 11
 
 162 COMEDIES OF COURTSHIP 
 
 There were no signs of the book of which he 
 had spoken to Millie Bushell. There were 
 no signs of anybody whom he could have 
 meant to address. Stay ! One sign there 
 was : a long hat-pin lay on the floor. Char- 
 lie picked it up with a sad smile. 
 
 " Agatha's," he said to himself. 
 
 And yet, as everyone in the neighborhood 
 knew, poor Agatha Merceron went nightly 
 to her phantom death bareheaded and with 
 golden locks tossed by the wind. Moreover, 
 the pin was of modern manufacture ; more- 
 over, ghosts do not wear — but there is no 
 need to enter on debatable ground ; the pin 
 was utterly modern. 
 
 " Now, if uncle Van," mused Charlie, 
 " came here and saw this ! " He care- 
 fully put the pin in his breast-pocket, and 
 looked at his watch. It was exactly Agatha 
 Merceron's time ; yet Charlie leant back on 
 his cold marble seat, put his hands in his 
 pockets, and gazed up at the ceiling with the 
 happiest possible smile on his face. For 
 one steeped in family legends, worshipping 
 the hapless lady's memory with warm devo- 
 tion, and reputed a sincere believer in her 
 ghostly wanderings, he awaited her coming
 
 THE LADY OF THE POOL 163 
 
 with marvellous composure. In point of 
 fact he had forgotten all about her, and there 
 was nothing to prevent her coming, slipping 
 down the steps, and noiselessly into the 
 water, all unnoticed by him. His eyes were 
 glued to the ceiling, the smile played on his 
 lips, his ears were filled with sweet echoes, 
 and his thoughts were far away. Perhaps 
 the dead lady came and passed unseen. 
 That Charlie did not see her was ridiculously 
 slight evidence whereon to damn so ancient 
 and picturesque a legend. He thought the 
 same himself, for that night at dinner — he 
 came in late for dinner — he maintained the 
 credit of the story with fierce conviction 
 against Mr. Vansittart Merceron's scepti- 
 cism.
 
 CHAPTER n 
 
 MISS WALLACE'S FRIEND 
 
 In old days the Mercerons had been great 
 folk. They had held the earldom of Lang- 
 bury and the barony of Warmley. A failure 
 of direct descent in the male line extin- 
 guished the earldom ; the Lady Agatha was 
 the daughter of the last earl, and would 
 have been Baroness Warmley had she lived. 
 On her death that title passed to her cousin, 
 and continued in that branch till the early 
 days of the present century. Then came 
 another break. The Lord Warmley of that 
 day, a Regency dandy, had a son, but not 
 one who could inherit his honors, and away 
 went the barony to a yet younger branch, 
 where, falling a few years later into female 
 hands, it was merged in a brand-new vis- 
 county, and was now waiting till chance 
 again should restore it to an independent 
 existence. From the Mercerons of the Court
 
 THE LADY OF THE POOL 105 
 
 it was gone for over, and the blot on their 
 escutcheon which lost it them was a sore 
 point, from which it behooved visitors and 
 friends to refrain their tongues. The Re- 
 gent had, indeed, with his well-known good 
 nature, offered a baronetcy to hide the stain ; 
 but pride forbade, and the Mercerons now 
 held no titles, save the modest dignity 
 which Charlie's father, made a K.C.B. for 
 services in the North-West Provinces, had 
 left behind him to his widow. But the old 
 house was theirs, and a comfortable rem- 
 nant of the lands, and the pictures of the ex- 
 tinct earls and barons, down to him whose 
 sins had robbed the line of its surviving 
 rank and left it in a position, from an her- 
 aldic point of view, of doubtful respectabil- 
 ity. Lady Merc* iron felt so acutely on the 
 subject that she banished this last noble- 
 man to the smoking-room. There was, con- 
 sidering everything, an appropriateness in 
 that position, and he no longer vexed her 
 eyes as she sat at meat in the dining-room. 
 She had purposed a like banishment for 
 Lady Agatha ; but here Charlie had inter- 
 ceded, and the unhappy beauty hung still 
 behind his mother's chair and opposite his
 
 166 COMEDIES OF COURTSHIP 
 
 own. It was just to remember that but for 
 poor Agatha's fault and fate the present 
 branch might never have enjoyed the honors 
 at all ; so Charlie urged to Lady Merceron, 
 catching at any excuse for keeping Lady 
 Agatha. Lady Merceron's way of judging 
 pictures may seem peculiar, but the fact is 
 that she lacked what is called the sense of 
 historical perspective : she did not see why 
 our ancestors should be treated so tenderly 
 and allowed, with a charitable reference to 
 the change in manners, forgiveness for what 
 no one to-day could hope to win a pardon. 
 Mr. Vansittart Merceron smiled at his sister- 
 in-law and shrugged his shoulders ; but in 
 vain. To the smoking-room went the wicked 
 Lord Warmley, and Lady Agatha was re- 
 markably lucky in that she did not follow 
 him. 
 
 Mr. Vansittart, half-brother to the late Sir 
 Victor, and twenty years younger than he, 
 was a short thick-set man, with a smooth 
 round white face, and a way of speaking so 
 deliberate and weighty that it imparted mo- 
 mentousness to nothings and infallibility to 
 nonsense. When he really had something 
 sensible to say, and that was very fairly
 
 THE LADY OF THE POOL 167 
 
 often, the effect was enormous. He was 
 now forty -four, a widower, well off by his 
 marriage, and a Member of Parliament. 
 Naturally, Lady Merceron relied much on 
 his advice, especially in what concerned her 
 son ; she was hazy about the characters and 
 needs of young men, not knowing how they 
 should be treated or what appealed to them. 
 Amid her haziness, one fact only stood out 
 clear. To deal with a young man, you 
 wanted a man of the world. In this capac- 
 ity Mr. Vansittart had now been sent for to 
 the Court, the object of his visit being noth- 
 ing less than the arrangement and satisfac- 
 tory settlement of Charlie's future. 
 
 Mr. Vansittart approached the future 
 through the present and the past. " You 
 wasted your time at school, you wasted your 
 time at Oxford, you're wasting your time 
 now," he remarked, when Charlie and he 
 were left alone after dinner. 
 
 Charlie was looking at Lady Agatha's 
 picture. With a sigh he turned to his 
 uncle. 
 
 " That's all very well," he said tolerantly, 
 "but what is there for me to do ? " 
 
 " If you took more interest in country
 
 168 COMEDIES OF COURTSHIP 
 
 pursuits it might be different. But you 
 don't hunt, you shoot very seldom " 
 
 " And very badly." 
 
 " And not at all well, as you admit. You 
 say you won't become a magistrate, you 
 show no interest in politics or — er — social 
 questions. You simply moon about." 
 
 Charlie was vividly reminded of a learned 
 judge whom he had once heard pronouncing 
 sentence of death. His uncle's denunciation 
 seemed to lack its appropriate conclusion — 
 that he should be hanged by the neck till he 
 was dead. He was roused to defend himself. 
 
 " You're quite wrong, uncle," he said. 
 " I'm working hard. I'm writing a history 
 of the family." 
 
 " A history of the family ! " groaned Mr. 
 Vansittart. " Who wants one ? Who'll 
 read one ? " 
 
 " From an antiquarian point of view " 
 
 began Charlie stoutly. 
 
 " Of all ways of wasting time, antiquarian- 
 ism is perhaps the most futile ; " and Mr. 
 Vansittart wiped his mouth with an air of 
 finality. 
 
 " Now the Agatha Merceron story," con- 
 tinued Charlie, " is in itself "
 
 THE LADY OF THE POOL 169 
 
 " Perhaps we'd better finish our talk to- 
 morrow. The ladies will expect us in the 
 garden." 
 
 " All right," said Charlie, with much con- 
 tent. He enjoyed himself more in the gar- 
 den, for, while Lady Merceron and her 
 brother - in - law took counsel, he strolled 
 through the moonlit shrubberies with Mrs. 
 Marian d, and Mrs. Marland was very sym- 
 pathetically interested in him and his pur- 
 suits. She was a little eager woman, the 
 very antithesis in body and miud to Millie 
 Bushell ; she had plenty of brains but very 
 little sense, a good deal of charm but no 
 beauty, and, without any counterbalancing 
 defect at all, a hearty liking for handsome 
 young men. She had also a husband in the 
 City. 
 
 " Ghost-hunting again to-night, Mr. Mer- 
 ceron ? " she asked, glancing up at Charlie, 
 who was puffing happily at a cigar. 
 
 " Yes," he answered, " I'm very regular." 
 
 " And did you see anyone ? " 
 
 " I saw Millie Bushell." 
 
 " Miss Bushell's hardly ghost - like, is 
 she ? " 
 
 " Well," said Charlie meditatively, " I
 
 170 COMEDIES OF COURTSHIP 
 
 suppose if one was fat oneself one's ghost 
 would be fat, wouldn't it ? " 
 
 Mrs. Marland, letting - the problem alone, 
 laughed softly. 
 
 " Poor Miss Bushell ! If she heard you 
 say that ! Or if Lady Merceron heard you ! " 
 
 " It would hardly surprise my mother to 
 hear that I thought Millie Bushell plump. 
 She is plump, you know ; " and Charlie's 
 eyes expressed a candid homage to truth. 
 
 " Oh, I know what's being arranged for 
 vou." 
 
 " So do L" 
 
 "And you'll do it. Oh, you think you 
 won't, but you will. Men always end by do- 
 ing what they're told." 
 
 "Does Mr. Marland?" 
 
 " He begins by it," laughed his wife. 
 
 " Is that why he's not coming till Satur- 
 day week ? " 
 
 "Mr. Merceron! But what was Miss 
 Bushell doing at the Pool ? Did she come 
 to find you ? " 
 
 " Oh, no ; just for a walk." 
 
 " Poor girl ! " 
 
 " Why ?— it's good for her." 
 
 " I didn't mean the walk."
 
 THE LADY OF THE POOL 171 
 
 "I'd blush if there was light enough to 
 make it any use, Mrs. Marland." 
 
 " Oh, but I know there's something. You 
 don't go there every evening to look for a 
 dead lady, Mr. Merceron." 
 
 Charlie stopped short, and took his cigar 
 from his mouth. 
 
 "What? " he asked, a little abruptly. 
 
 " Well, I shall follow you some day, and I 
 shouldn't be surprised if I met — not Agatha 
 —but " 
 
 " Well ? " asked Charlie, with an uncertain 
 smile. 
 
 " Why, poor Miss Bushell ! " 
 
 Charlie laughed and replaced his cigar. 
 
 "What are we standing still for?" he 
 said. 
 
 " I don't know. You stopped. She'd be 
 such an ideal match for you." 
 
 " Then I should never have done for you, 
 Mrs. Marland." 
 
 " My dear boy, I was married when you 
 were still in Eton collars." 
 
 They had completed the circuit of the 
 garden, and now approached where Lady 
 Merceron sat, enveloped in a shawl. 
 
 " Charlie ! " she called. " Here's a letter
 
 172 COMEDIES OF COURTSHIP 
 
 from Victor Sutton. He's coming to-mor- 
 row." 
 
 " I didn't know you'd asked him," said 
 Charlie, with no sign of pleasure at the news. 
 Victor had been at school and college with 
 Charlie, and often, in his holidays, at the 
 Court, for he was Sir Victor's godson. Yet 
 Charlie did not love him. For the rest, he 
 was very rich, and was understood to cut 
 something of a figure in London society. 
 
 "Mr. Sutton? Oh, I know him," ex- 
 claimed Mrs. Marland. "He's charming!" 
 
 "Then you shall entertain him," said 
 Charlie. " I resign him." 
 
 " I can't think why you're not more pleased 
 to have him here, Charlie," remarked Lady 
 Merceron. " He's very popular in London, 
 isn't he, Vansittart ? " 
 
 " I've met him at some very good houses," 
 answered Mr. Vansittart. And that, he 
 seemed to imply, is better than mere popu- 
 larity. 
 
 " The Bushells were delighted with him 
 last time he was here," continued Lady 
 Merceron. 
 
 " There ! A rival for you ! " Mrs. Marland 
 whispered.
 
 THE LADY OF THE POOL 173 
 
 Charlie laughed cheerfully. Sutton would 
 be no rival of his, he thought ; and if he 
 and Millie liked one another, by all means 
 let them take one another. A month before 
 he would hardly have dismissed the ques- 
 tion in so summary a fashion, for the habit 
 of regarding Millie as a possibility and her 
 readiness as a fact had grown strong by the 
 custom of years, and, far as he was from a 
 passion, he might not have enjoyed seeing 
 her allegiance transferred to Victor Sutton. 
 Certainly he would have suffered defeat from 
 that hand with very bad grace. Now, how- 
 ever, everything was changed. 
 
 " Vansittart," said Lady Merceron, " Char- 
 lie and I want to consult you (she often 
 coupled Charlie's hypothetical desire for 
 advice with her own actual one in appeals 
 to Mr. Vansittart) about Mr. Prime's rent." 
 
 " Oh, at the old farm ? " 
 
 " Yes. He wants another reduction." 
 
 " He'll want to be paid for staying there 
 next." 
 
 " Well, poor man, he's had to take lodgers 
 this summer — a thing he's never done be- 
 fore. Charlie, did you know that ? " 
 
 " Yes," said Charlie, interrupting an ani-
 
 174 COMEDIES OF COURTSHIP 
 
 mated conversation which he had started 
 with Mrs. Marland. 
 
 " Do you know who they are ? " pursued 
 his mother, wandering from Mr. Prime's 
 rent to the more interesting subject of his 
 lodgers. 
 
 " Ladies from London," answered Charlie. 
 
 " Rather vague," commented Mr. Yansit- 
 tart. " Young ladies or old ladies, Charlie ? " 
 
 " Why does he want to know ? " asked 
 Mrs. Marland ; but chaff had about as much 
 effect on Mr. Yansittart as it would have 
 on an ironclad. He seemed not to hear, 
 and awaited an answer with a bland smile. 
 In truth, he thought Mrs. Marland a silly 
 woman. 
 
 " Young, I believe," answered Charlie, in 
 a careless tone. 
 
 " It's curious I've not seen them about," 
 said Lady Merceron. " I pass the farm al- 
 most every day. Who are they, Charlie ? " 
 
 " One's a Miss Wallace. She's engaged to 
 Willie Prime." 
 
 " To Willie ? Fancy ! " 
 
 "H'm! I think," remarked Mr. Yansit- 
 tart, " that, from the point of view of a re- 
 duction of rent, these lodgers are a delusion.
 
 THE LADY OF THE POOL 175 
 
 Of course she stays with Prime if she's go- 
 ing to marry his son." 
 
 " Fancy Willie ! " reiterated Lady Merce- 
 ron. " Surely he can't afford to marry ? 
 He's in a bank, you know, Vansittart, and 
 he only gets a hundred and twenty pounds a 
 year." 
 
 " One blessing of the country is that every- 
 body knows his neighbor's income," ob- 
 served Mr. Vansittart. 
 
 "Perhaps the lady has money," suggested 
 Mrs. Marland. " But, Mr. Merceron, who's 
 the other lady ? " 
 
 " A friend of Miss Wallace's, I believe. I 
 don't know her name." 
 
 " Oh, they're merely friends of Prime's ? " 
 Mr. Vansittart concluded. " If that's all he 
 bases his claim for a reduction on " 
 
 " Hang it ! He might as well have it," in- 
 terrupted Charlie. " He talks to me about 
 it for half an hour every time we meet." 
 
 " But, my dear Charlie, you have more time 
 than money to waste — at least, so it seems." 
 
 His uncle's sarcasm never affected Char- 
 lie's temper. 
 
 " I'll turn him on to you, uncle," he re- 
 plied, " and you can see how you like it."
 
 176 COMEDIES OF COURTSHIP 
 
 "I'll go and call on him to-morrow. 
 You'd better come too, Charlie." 
 
 "And then you can see the ladies from 
 London," added Mrs. Marland. "Perhaps 
 the one who isn't young Mr. Prime's will be 
 interesting." 
 
 " Or," said Charlie, " as mostly happens in 
 this woeful world, the one who is." 
 
 "I think the less we see of that sort of 
 person at all, the better," observed Lady 
 Merceron, with gentle decision. " They can 
 hardly be quite what we're accustomed to." 
 
 " That sort of person ! " 
 
 Charlie went to bed with the phrase ring- 
 ing in his horror-struck ears. If to be the 
 most beautiful, the most charming, and the 
 most refined, the daintiest, the wittiest and 
 prettiest, the kindest and the sweetest, the 
 merriest and most provoking creature in the 
 whole world — if to be all this were yet not 
 to weigh against being " that sort of person " 
 — if it were not, indeed, to outweigh, banish, 
 and obliterate everything else — why, the 
 world was not fit to live in, and he no true 
 Merceron ! For the Merceron men had al- 
 ways pleased themselves.
 
 CHAPTER in 
 
 ALL NONSENSE 
 
 On the evening- of the next day, while the 
 sun was still on the Pool, and its waters, 
 forgetful of darker moods and bygone trage- 
 dies, smiled under the tickling of darting 
 golden gleams, a girl sat on the broad low- 
 est step of the temple. She had rolled the 
 sleeves of her white gown above her elbow, 
 up well-nigh to her shoulder, and, the after- 
 noon being sultry, from time to time dipped 
 her arms in the water and, taking them out 
 again, amused herself by watching the 
 bright drops race down to her rosy finger- 
 tips. The sport was good, apparently, for 
 she laughed and flung back her head so 
 that the stray locks of hair might not 
 spoil her sight of it. On either side of this 
 lowest step there was a margin of smooth 
 level grass, and, being unable as she sat to 
 
 bathe both arms at once, presently she 
 12
 
 178 COMEDIES OF COURTSHIP 
 
 moved on to the grass and lay down, sink- 
 ing her elbows in the pond and leaning her 
 face over the edge of it. The posture had 
 another advantage she had not thought of, 
 and she laughed again when she saw her 
 own eyes twinkling at her from the depths. 
 As she lay there a longing came upon 
 her. 
 
 " If I could be sure he wouldn't come I'd 
 dip my feet," she murmured. 
 
 As, however, he had come every evening 
 for a fortnight past the fancy was not to be 
 indulged, and she consoled herself by a 
 deeper dive yet of her arms and by droop- 
 ing her head till her nose and the extreme 
 fringe of her eyelashes were wetted, and the 
 stray locks floated on either side. 
 
 Presently, as she still looked, she saw an- 
 other shadow on the water, and exchanged 
 with her image a confidential glance. 
 
 " You again ? " she asked. 
 
 The other shadow nodded. 
 
 " Why didn't you come in the canoe ? " 
 
 " Because people see it." 
 
 It struck her that her attitude was uncon- 
 ventional, and by a lithe complicated move- 
 ment, whereof Charlie noticed only the
 
 THE LADY OF THE POOL 179 
 
 elegance and not the details, she swept 
 round and, sitting, looked up at him. 
 
 " I know who she was," she observed. 
 
 " She very nearly knew who you were. 
 You oughtn't to have come to the win- 
 dow." 
 
 " She thought I was the ghost." 
 
 " You shouldn't reckon on people being 
 foolish." 
 
 " Shouldn't I ? Yet I reckoned on your 
 coming— or there'd have been some more of 
 me in the water." 
 
 " I wish I were an irregular man," said 
 Charlie. 
 
 She was slowly turning down her sleeves, 
 and, ignoring his remark, said, with a ques- 
 tion in her tones : 
 
 "Nettie "Wallace says that Willie Prime 
 says that everybody says that you're going 
 to marry that girl." 
 
 " I believe it's quite true." 
 
 " Oh ! " and she looked across the Pool. 
 
 " True that everybody says so," added 
 Charlie. " Why do you turn down your 
 sleeves ? " 
 
 " How funny I must have looked, sprawl- 
 ing on the bank like that ! " she remarked.
 
 180 COMEDIES OF COURTSHIP 
 
 " Awful ! " said Charlie, sitting- down. 
 
 She looked at him with uneasiness in her 
 eye. 
 
 "Nothing- but an ankle, I swear," he an- 
 swered. 
 
 She blushed and smiled. 
 
 " I think you should whistle, or some- 
 thing, as you come." 
 
 " Not I," said Charlie, with decision. 
 
 Suddenly she turned to him with a seri- 
 ous face, or one that tried to be serious. 
 
 " Why do you come ? " she asked. 
 
 " Why do I eat ? " he returned. 
 
 " And yet you were angry the first time." 
 
 "Nobody likes to be caught ranting out 
 poetry — especially his own." 
 
 "I believe you were frightened — you 
 thought I was Agatha. The poetry was 
 about her, wasn't it? " 
 
 "It's not at all a bad poem," observed 
 Charlie. 
 
 " You remember I liked it so much that 
 I clapped my hands." 
 
 " And I jumped ! " 
 
 The girl laughed. 
 
 "Ah, well," she said, "it's time to go 
 home."
 
 THE LADY OF THE POOL 181 
 
 " Oh, dear, no," said Charlie. 
 
 " But I've promised to be early, because 
 Willie Prime's coming, and I'm to be intro- 
 duced to him." 
 
 "Willie Prime can wait. He's got Miss 
 Wallace to comfort him, and I've got no- 
 body to comfort me." 
 
 " Oh, yes. Miss Bushell." 
 
 " You know her name ? " 
 
 " Yes — and yours — your surname, I mean ; 
 you told me the other." 
 
 " That's more than you've done for me." 
 
 " I told you my name was Agatha." 
 
 " Ah, but that was a joke. I'd been talk- 
 ing about Agatha Merceron." 
 
 " Very well. I'm sorry it doesn't satisfy 
 you. If you won't believe me ! " 
 
 " But your surname ? " 
 
 " Oh, mine ? Why, mine's Brown." 
 
 " Brown ! " re-echoed Charlie, with a tinge 
 of disappointment in his tone. 
 
 " Don't you like it ? " asked Miss Agatha 
 Brown with a smile. 
 
 " Oh, it will do for the present," laughed 
 Charlie. 
 
 " Well, I don't mean to keep it all my 
 life. I've spent to-day, Mr. Merceron, in
 
 182 COMEDIES OF COURTSHIP 
 
 spying out your house. Nettie Wallace and 
 I ventured quite near. It's very pretty." 
 
 " Rather dilapidated, I'm afraid." 
 
 " What's the time, Mr. Merceron ? " 
 
 " Half -past six. Oh, by Jove ! " 
 
 " Well ? Afraid of seeing- poor Agatha ? " 
 
 " I should see nobody but you, if you 
 were here. No. I forgot that. I've got to 
 meet someone at the station at a quarter- 
 past seven." 
 
 "Oh, do tell me who ? " 
 
 "You'd be none the wiser. It's a Mr. 
 Victor Sutton." 
 
 "Victor Sutton!" she exclaimed, with a 
 glance at Charlie which passed unnoticed by 
 him. " Is he a friend of yours ? " 
 
 "I suppose so. Of my family's, any- 
 how." 
 
 " Good-by. I'm going," she announced. 
 
 " You'll be here to-morrow ? " 
 
 " Yes. For the last time." 
 
 She dropped this astounding thunderbolt 
 on Charlie's head as though it had been the 
 most ordinary remark in the world. 
 
 "The last time! Oh, Miss " No: 
 
 somehow he could not lay his tongue to that 
 " Miss Brown."
 
 THE LADY OF THE POOL 1S3 
 
 " I can't spend all my life in Lang Marsh," 
 said she. 
 
 " Agatha," he burst out. 
 
 " No, no. This is not the last time. 
 Sha'n't we keep that ? " she asked, with a 
 provokingly light-hearted smile. 
 
 " You promise to be here to-morrow ? " 
 
 "Oh, yes." 
 
 " I shall have something to say to you 
 then," Charlie announced with a significant 
 air. 
 
 " Oh, you never lack conversation." 
 
 " You'll be here at five ? " 
 
 " Precisely," she answered with mock 
 gravity ; " and now I'm gone ! " 
 
 Charlie took off his straw hat, stretched 
 out his right hand, and took hers. For a 
 moment she drew back, but he looked very 
 handsome and gallant as he bowed his head 
 down to her hand, and she checked the 
 movement. 
 
 " Oh, well ! " she murmured ; she was pro- 
 testing against any importance being at- 
 tached to the incident. 
 
 Charlie, having paid his homage, walked, 
 or rather ran, swiftly away. To begin with, 
 he had none too much time if he was to
 
 184 COMEDIES OF COURTSHIP 
 
 meet Victor Sutton ; secondly, he was full 
 of a big resolve, and that generally makes 
 a man walk fast. 
 
 The lady pursued a more leisurely prog- 
 ress. Swinging her hat in her hand, she 
 made her way through the tangled wood 
 back to the high-road, and turned towards 
 Mr. Prime's farm. She went slowly along, 
 thinking perhaps of the attractive young 
 fellow she had left behind her, wondering 
 perhaps why she had promised to meet him 
 again. She did not know why, for there 
 was sure to happen at that last meeting the 
 one thing which she did not, she supposed, 
 wish to happen. However, a promise is a 
 promise. She heard the sound of wheels 
 behind her, and, turning, found the farmer's 
 spring-cart hard on her heels. The farmer 
 was driving, and by his side sat a nice- 
 looking girl dressed in the extreme of fash- 
 ion. On the back seat was a young man in 
 a very light suit, with a fine check pattern, 
 and a new pair of brown leather shoes. 
 The cart pulled up. 
 
 " We can make room for ye, Miss," said 
 old Mr. Prime. 
 
 Nettie Wallace jumped up and stood with
 
 THE LADY OF THE POOL 185 
 
 her foot on the step. Willie Prime jumped 
 down and effected her transfer to the back 
 seat. Agatha climbed up beside the farmer 
 and stretched her hand back to greet Willie. 
 Willie took it rather timidly. He did not 
 quite "savvy" (as he expressed it to him- 
 self) ; his fiancee's friend was very simply 
 attired, infinitely more simply than Nettie 
 herself. Nettie had told him that her friend 
 was " off and on " (a vague and rather ob- 
 scure qualification of the statement) in the 
 same line as herself — namely, Court and 
 high-class dressmaking. Yet there was a 
 difference between Nettie and her friend. 
 
 "Anybody else arrived by the train?" 
 asked Agatha. 
 
 " A visitor for the Court. A good-looking 
 gentleman, wasn't he, Willie ? " 
 
 Nettie was an elegant creature and, but 
 for the " gentleman " and that slight but in- 
 eradicable twang that clings like Nessus' 
 shirt to the cockney, all effort and all educa- 
 tion notwithstanding (it will even last three 
 generations, and is audible, perhaps, now 
 and then in the House of Lords), her speech 
 was correct and even dainty in its prim 
 nicety.
 
 186 COMEDIES OF COURTSHIP 
 
 "Ah! "said Agatha. 
 
 " His name's Sutton," said Willie ; " Mr. 
 Charles — young- Mr. Merceron — told me so 
 when he was talking- to me on the platform." 
 
 " You know young Mr. Merceron ? " asked 
 Agatha. 
 
 "Why, they was boys together," inter- 
 rupted the old farmer, who made little of 
 the refinements of speech. In his youth no 
 one, from the lord to the laborer, spoke 
 grammar in the country. " Used to larn to 
 swim together in the Pool, didn't you, 
 Willie?" 
 
 " I must have a dip there to-morrow," 
 cried Willie ; and Agatha wondered what 
 time he would choose. " And I'll take you 
 there, Nettie. Ever been yet ? " 
 
 " No. They — they say it's haunted, don't 
 they, Willie ? " 
 
 " That's nonsense," said Willie. London 
 makes a man sceptical. The old farmer 
 shook his head and grunted doubtfully. His 
 mother had seen poor Agatha Merceron ; 
 this was before the farmer was born — a little 
 while before — and the shock had come nigh 
 to being most serious to him. The whole 
 countryside knew it.
 
 THE LADY OF THE POOL 187 
 
 " Why do you call it nonsense, Mr. 
 Prime ? " asked Agatha. 
 
 " Oh, I don't know, Miss " 
 
 " Miss Brown, Willie," said Nettie. 
 
 " Miss Brown. Anyway, we needn't go 
 the time the ghost comes." 
 
 " I should certainly avoid that," laughed 
 Agatha. 
 
 " We'll go in the morning, Nettie, and I'll 
 have my swim in the evening." 
 
 Agatha frowned. It would be particularly 
 inconvenient if Willie Prime took his swim 
 in the evening. 
 
 " Oh, don't, Willie," cried Nettie. " She- 
 she might do you some harm." 
 
 Willie was hard to persuade. He was not 
 above liking to appear a daredevil ; and 
 the discussion was still raging when they 
 reached the farm. The two girls went up- 
 stairs to the little rooms which they occu- 
 pied. Agatha turned into hers, and Nettie 
 Wallace followed her. 
 
 " Your Willie is very nice," said Agatha, 
 sitting on her bed. 
 
 Nettie smiled with pleasure. 
 
 " And now that you've other company I 
 shall go."
 
 1S8 COMEDIES OF COURTSHIP 
 
 " You're going, Miss ? " 
 "Not Miss." 
 
 Nettie laughed. 
 
 " I forget sometimes," she said. 
 
 " Well, you must remember just over to- 
 morrow. I shall go next day. I must meet 
 my grandfather in London." 
 
 Nettie offered no opposition. On the con- 
 trary, she appeared rather relieved. 
 
 " Nettie, did you like Mr. Sutton's looks ? " 
 asked Agatha after a pause. 
 
 " He's too black and blue for my taste," 
 answered Nettie. 
 
 Willie Prime was red and yellow. 
 
 " Blue ? Oh, you mean his cheeks ? " 
 
 "Yes. But he's a handsome gentleman 
 all the same ; and you should have seen his 
 luggage! Such a dressing-bag — cost fifty 
 pounds, I daresay." 
 
 " Oh, dear, me," said Agatha. " Yes, 
 Nettie, I shall go the day after to - mor- 
 row." 
 
 " Mr. Merceron asked to be introduced to 
 me," said Nettie proudly. " And he asked 
 where you were — he said he'd seen you at 
 the window." 
 
 " Did he ? " said Agatha negligently ; and
 
 THE LADY OF THE POOL 189 
 
 Nettie, finding the conversation flag, retired 
 to her own room. 
 
 Agatha sat a moment longer on the bed. 
 
 " What a very deceitful young man," she 
 exclaimed at last. " I must be a very strict 
 secret indeed. Well, I suppose I should 
 be."
 
 CHAPTEE IV 
 
 A CATASTROPHE AT THE POOL 
 
 Mr. Yansittart Merceron was not quite 
 sure that Victor Sutton had any business to 
 call him " Merceron." He was nearly twenty 
 years older than Victor, and a man of con- 
 siderable position ; nor was he, as some 
 middle-aged men are, nattered by the impli- 
 cation of contemporaneousness carried by 
 the mode of address. But it is hard to give 
 a hint to a man who has no inkling that 
 there is room for one ; and when Mr. Van- 
 sittart addressed Victor as " Mr. Sutton " 
 the latter graciously told him to " hang the 
 Mister." Reciprocity was inevitable, and 
 the elder man asked himself, with a sar- 
 donic grin, how soon he would be " Van." 
 
 " Coming to bathe, Merceron ? " he heard 
 under his window at eight o'clock the next 
 morning. " We're off to the Pool." 
 
 Mr. Vansittart shouted an emphatic nega-
 
 THE LADY OF THE POOL 191 
 
 tive, and the two young- fellows started off 
 by themselves. Charlie's manner was af- 
 fected by the ceremonious courtesy which a 
 well-bred host betrays towards a guest not 
 very well-beloved, but Victor did not notice 
 this. It seldom occurred to him that peo- 
 ple did not like him. 
 
 " Yes," he was saying, " I'm just twenty- 
 nine. I've had my fling, Charlie, and now I 
 shall get to business." 
 
 Charlie was relieved to find that accord- 
 ing to this reckoning he had several more 
 years' " fling " before him. 
 
 " Next year," pursued Victor, " I shall 
 marry ; then I shall go into Parliament, and 
 then I shall go ahead." 
 
 " I didn't know you were engaged." 
 
 " No, I'm not, but I'm going to be. I can 
 please myself, you see ; I've got lots of coin." 
 
 " Oh, yes, but can you please the lady ? " 
 asked Charlie. 
 
 " My dear boy," began Victor, " when 
 you've seen a little more of the world " 
 
 " Here we are," said Charlie. " Why, 
 hullo! Who's that?" 
 
 A dripping head and a blowing mouth 
 were visible in the middle of the Pool.
 
 192 COMEDIES OF COURTSHIP 
 
 " Willie Prime by Jove ! 'Morning, Wil- 
 lie ; " and Charlie set about flinging- off his 
 flannels, Victor following his example in a 
 more leisurely fashion. 
 
 Willie Prime was a little puzzled to know 
 how he ought to treat Charlie. " Charlie " 
 he had been in very old days — then Master 
 Charlie (that was Willie's mother's doing) — 
 then Mr. Charles. But now Willie had set 
 up for himself. He had played billiards 
 with a lord, and football against the Syba- 
 rites, and, incidentally, hobnobbed with quite 
 great people. It is not very easy to assert a 
 social position when one has nothing on, and 
 only one's head out of water, but Willie did it. 
 
 " Good-morning — er — Merceron," said he. 
 
 Victor heard him, and put up his eyeglass 
 in amazement ; but he, in his turn, had only 
 a shirt on, and the hauteur was a failure. 
 Charlie utterly failed to notice the incident. 
 
 "Is it cold ?" he shouted. 
 
 " Beastly," answered Willie. The man 
 who has got in always tells the man who is 
 going to get in that it is " beastly cold." 
 
 " Here goes ! " cried Charlie ; and a min- 
 ute later he was treading water by Willie's 
 side.
 
 THE LADY OF THE POOL 193 
 
 " Miss Wallace all fit ? " he asked. 
 
 " Thank you, yes, she's all right." 
 
 " And her friend ? " 
 
 " All right, I believe." 
 
 " And when is it to be, old fellow ? " 
 
 " Soon as I get a rise." 
 
 " What ? " asked the unsophisticated Char- 
 lie, who knew the phrase chiefly in connec- 
 tion with fish. 
 
 " A rise of screw, you know." 
 
 " Oh, ah, yes — what a fool I am ! " and 
 Charlie disappeared beneath the waves. 
 
 When they were all on the bank, drying, 
 Willie, encouraged by not being discouraged 
 (save by Sutton's silence) in his advances, 
 ventured further, and asked in a joking 
 tone : 
 
 " And aren't you marked off yet ? We've 
 been expecting to hear of it for the last 
 twelve months." 
 
 " What do you mean ? " 
 
 "Why, you and Miss Bushell." 
 
 Charlie struggled through his shirt, and 
 then answered, with his first touch of dis- 
 tance : 
 
 "Nothing in it. People've got no busi- 
 ness to gossip." 
 13
 
 194 COMEDIES OF COURTSHIP 
 
 " It's damned impertinent," observed Vic- 
 tor Sutton in slow and deliberate tones. 
 
 Willie flushed. 
 
 " I beg- pardon," lie said gruffly. " I only- 
 repeated what I heard." 
 
 " My dear fellow, no harm's done," cried 
 Charlie. " Who was the fool ? " 
 
 " Well— in fact— my father." 
 
 The situation was awkward, but they 
 wisely eluded it by laughter. But a thought 
 struck Charlie. 
 
 " I say, did your father state it as a fact ? " 
 
 " Oh no ; but as a certainty, you know." 
 
 " When ? " 
 
 " Last night at supper." 
 
 Charlie's brow clouded. Miss B that 
 
 is, Agatha, was certain to have been at sup- 
 per. However, all that could be put right 
 in the evening — that one blessed evening 
 left to him. He looked at Willie and opened 
 his mouth to speak ; but he shut it again. 
 It did not seem to him that he could ques- 
 tion Willie Prime about the lady. She had 
 chosen to tell him nothing, and her will was 
 his law. But he was yearning to know what 
 she was and how she came there. He re- 
 frained ; and this time virtue really had
 
 THE LADY OF THE POOL 105 
 
 a reward beyond itself, for Willie would 
 blithely have told him that she was a dress- 
 maker (he called Nettie, however, the mana- 
 ger of a Court modiste's business), and that 
 would not have pleased Charlie. 
 
 It was all very well for Charlie to count on 
 that blessed evening ; but he reckoned with- 
 out his host — or rather without his guests. 
 
 The Bushells came to lunch, Millie driv- 
 ing her terrified mother in a lofty gig ; and 
 at lunch Millie recounted her vision of 
 Agatha Merceron. She did not believe it, 
 of course ; but it was queer, wasn't it ? Vic- 
 tor Sutton rose to the bait at once. 
 
 " We'll investigate it," he cried. " Mer- 
 ceron" (he meant the patient Mr. Vansit- 
 tart), " didn't you once write an article on 
 ' Apparitions ' for Intellect ? " 
 
 " Yes, I proved there were none," answered 
 Mr. Yansittart. 
 
 " That's impossible, you know," remarked 
 Mrs. Marland gently. 
 
 "We'll put you to the proof this very 
 evening," declared Mr. Sutton. 
 
 Charlie started. 
 
 " Are you game, Miss Bushell ? " con- 
 tinued Victor.
 
 196 COMEDIES OF COURTSHIP 
 
 " Ye — yes, if you'll keep quite near me," 
 answered Millie, with a playful shudder. 
 Charlie reflected how ill playfulness became 
 her, and frowned. But Millie was pleased 
 to see him frown ; she enjoyed showing him 
 that other men liked to keep quite near to 
 her. 
 
 " Then this evening we'll go in a body to 
 the Pool." 
 
 " I shall not go," shuddered Mrs. Mar- 
 land. 
 
 " An hour after sunset ! " 
 
 " Half an hour. She might be early — and 
 we'll stay half an hour after. We'll give her 
 a fair show." 
 
 " Come," thought Charlie. " I shall get 
 an hour with Agatha." 
 
 " You'll come, Charlie ? " asked Victor. 
 
 " Oh, all right," he answered, hiding all 
 signs of vexation. He could get back by 
 six and join the party. But why was Mrs. 
 Marland looking at him ? 
 
 The first step, however, towards getting 
 back is to get there, and Charlie found this 
 none so easy. After lunch came lawn-ten- 
 nis, and he was impressed. Mr. Vansittart 
 played a middle-aged game, and Victor had
 
 THE LADY OF THE POOL 197 
 
 found little leisure for this modest sport 
 among- his more ambitious amusements. 
 Charlie had to balance Millie Bushell, and 
 he spent a very hot and wearying- afternoon. 
 They would go on : Victor declared it was 
 good for him, Uncle Van delighted in a 
 hard game (it appeared to be a very hard 
 game to him from the number of strokes he 
 missed), and Millie grew in vigor, ubiquity, 
 and (it must be added) intensity of color as 
 the hours wore away. It was close on five 
 before Charlie, with a groan, could throw 
 down his racquet. 
 
 " Poor boy ! " said Mrs. Marland. 
 
 " Charlie, dear," called Lady Merceron, 
 who had been talking comfortably to Mrs. 
 Bushell in the shade, " come and hand the 
 tea. I'm sure you must all want some. 
 Millie, my dear, how hot you look ! " 
 
 " She never will take any care of her com- 
 plexion," complained Mrs. Bushell. 
 
 "Take care of your stom — your health — 
 and your complexion will take care of it- 
 self," observed Mr. Vansittart. 
 
 " Charlie ! Where is the boy ? " called 
 Lady Merceron again. 
 
 The boy was gone. He was flying as fast
 
 198 COMEDIES OF COURTSHIP 
 
 as his legs would take him to the Pool. 
 Where was that cherished interview now ? 
 He could hope only for a few wretched min- 
 utes — hardly enough to say good-by once 
 — before he must hustle — yes, positively 
 hustle — Agatha out of sight. He had heard 
 that abominable Sutton remark that they 
 might as well start directly after tea. 
 
 He was breathless when he burst through 
 the willows. But there he came to a sud- 
 den, a dead stop, and then drew back into 
 shelter again. There on the bank, scarcely 
 a dozen feet from it, sat two people — a young 
 man with his arm round a young woman's 
 waist. Willie Prime and Nettie Wallace, 
 " by all that's damnable ! " as Sir Peter says ! 
 Charlie said something quite as forcible. 
 
 He felt for his watch, but he had left it 
 with his waistcoat on the lawn. What was 
 the time ? Was it going quickly or slowly ? 
 Could he afford to wait, or must he run round 
 to the road and intercept Agatha ? Five 
 minutes passed in vacillation. 
 
 " I'll go and stop her," he said, and began 
 a cautious retreat. As he moved he heard 
 Willie's voice. 
 
 " Well, my dear, let's be off," said Willie.
 
 THE LADY OF THE POOL 199 
 
 Nettie rose with a sigh of content, adjust- 
 ed her hat coquettishly, and smoothed her 
 skirts. 
 
 "I'm ready, Willie. It's been beautiful, 
 hasn't it ? " 
 
 They came towards Charlie. Evidently 
 they intended to regain the road by the same 
 path as he had chosen. Indeed, from that 
 side of the Pool there was no choice, unless 
 one clambered round by the muddy bank. 
 
 " We must make haste," said Willie. 
 " Father'll want his tea." 
 
 If they made haste they would be close on 
 his heels. Charlie shrank back behind a 
 willow and let them go by; then, quick as 
 thought, rushed to his canoe and paddled 
 across — up the steps and into the temple he 
 rushed. She wasn't there ! Fate is too hard 
 for the best of us sometimes. Charlie sat 
 down and, stretching out his legs, stared 
 gloomily at his toes. 
 
 Thus he must have sat nearly ten minutes, 
 when a head was put round the Corinthian 
 pilaster of the doorway. 
 
 " Poor boy ! Am I very late ? " 
 
 Charlie leapt up and forward, breathlessly 
 blurting out joy tempered by uneasiness.
 
 200 COMEDIES OF COURTSHIP 
 
 Agatha gathered the difficulty of the posi- 
 tion. 
 
 "Well," said she, smiling, "I must dis- 
 appear, and you must go back to your 
 friends." 
 
 "No," said Charlie. "I must talk to 
 you." 
 
 " But they may come any moment." 
 
 " I don't care ! " 
 
 " Oh, but I do. Charlie, what's the mat- 
 ter ? Oh, didn't I ever call you ' Charlie ' 
 before ? Well, Charlie, if you love me (yes, 
 I know !) you'll not let these people see me." 
 
 " All right ! Come along. I'll take you 
 to the road and come back. Hullo ! What's 
 that?" 
 
 " It's them ! " exclaimed the lady. 
 
 It was. The pair dived back into the 
 temple. On the opposite bank stood Millie 
 Bushell, Mr. Yansittart, and Victor Sutton. 
 
 " Hullo, there, Charlie, you thief ! " cried 
 Victor. " Bring that canoe over here. Miss 
 Bushell wants to get to the temple." 
 
 " Hush ! Don't move ! " whispered Aga- 
 tha. 
 
 " But they know I'm here ; they see that 
 confounded canoe."
 
 THE LADY OF THE POOL 201 
 
 " Charlie ! Charlie ! " was shouted across 
 in three voices. 
 
 " What the devil ," muttered Charlie. 
 
 " They mustn't see me," urged Agatha. 
 
 Victor Sutton's voice rose clear and dis- 
 tinct. 
 
 "I'll unearth him!" he cried. "I know 
 the way round. You wait here with Miss 
 Bushell, Merceron." 
 
 " Oh, he's coming round ! " 
 
 " I must chance it," said Charlie, and he 
 came out of hiding. A cry greeted him. 
 Victor was already started, but stopped. 
 Charlie embarked and shot across. 
 
 "You villain! You gave us the slip," 
 cried Uncle Van. 
 
 Miss Bushell began quietly to embark. 
 Uncle Van followed her example. 
 
 " Oh, Mr. Merceron, you'll sink us ! " cried 
 Millie. 
 
 Charlie sat glum and silent. The situa- 
 tion beat him completely. 
 
 Uncle Van drew back. Millie seized the 
 paddle and propelled the canoe out from 
 the bank. 
 
 "You come round with me, Merceron," 
 called Sutton, and the two men turned to
 
 202 COMEDIES OF COURTSHIP 
 
 the path. " No," added Victor. " Look 
 here, we can climb round here," and he 
 pointed to the bank. There was a little nar- 
 row muddy track, but it was enough. 
 
 The canoe was half-way across ; the two 
 men — Victor leading- at a good pace — were 
 half-way round. Charlie glanced at the 
 window of the temple and caught a fleeting 
 glance of a despairing face. " If you love 
 me, they mustn't see me ! " 
 
 " Here, give me the paddle! " he exclaimed, 
 and reached forward for it. 
 
 " No, I can do it," answered Millie, lifting 
 the instrument out of his reach. 
 
 Charlie stepped forward — rather, he 
 jumped forward, as a man jumps over a 
 ditch. There was a shriek from Millie ; the 
 canoe swayed, tottered, and upset. In a 
 confused mass, Millie Bushell and Charlie 
 were hurled into the water. Victor and 
 Uncle Van, hardly five yards from the steps, 
 turned in amazement. 
 
 " Help ! help ! " screamed Millie. 
 
 " Help ! " echoed Charlie. " I can't hold 
 her up. Victor, come and help me ! Uncle 
 Van, come along ! " 
 
 " The devil ! " murmured Uncle Van.
 
 THE LADY OF THE POOL 203 
 
 " Quick, quick ! " called Charlie ; and Vic- 
 tor, with a vexed laugh, peeled off his coat 
 and jumped in. Mr. Vansittart stood with a 
 puzzled air. Then a happy thought struck 
 him. He turned and trotted back the way 
 he had come. He would get a rope ! 
 
 As he went, as Victor reached the strag- 
 glers in the water, a slim figure in white, 
 with a smile on her face, stole cautiously 
 from the temple and disappeared in the 
 wood behind. Charlie saw her go, but he 
 held poor Millie's head remorselessly tight 
 towards the other bank. 
 
 And that was the last he saw of the Lady 
 of the Pool. 
 
 Millie Bushell landed, her dripping clothes 
 clinging round her. Victor was shivering, 
 for the evening had turned chilly. Uncle 
 Van had a bit of rope from the boat-shed in 
 his hand, and a doubtful smile on his face. 
 
 "We'd best get Miss Bushell home," he 
 suggested, and they started in gloomy pro- 
 cession. Charlie, in remorse, gave Millie 
 his arm. 
 
 " Oh, how could you ? " she murmured 
 piteously. She was cold, she was wet, and 
 she was sure that she looked frightful.
 
 204 COMEDIES OF COURTSHIP 
 
 "I — I didn't do it on purpose," Charlie 
 blurted out eagerly. 
 
 " On purpose ! Well, I suppose not," she 
 exclaimed, bewildered. 
 
 Charlie flushed. Victor shot a swift 
 glance at him. 
 
 Half-way home they met Mrs. Marland, 
 and the whole affair had to be explained to 
 her. Charlie essayed the task. 
 
 " Still, I don't see how you managed to 
 upset the canoe," observed Mrs. Marland. 
 
 " No more do I," said Victor Sutton. 
 
 Charlie gave it up. 
 
 "I'm so sorry, Millie," he whispered. 
 "You must try to forgive me." 
 
 So, once again, the coast was left clear 
 for Agatha Merceron, if she came that night. 
 But, whether she did or not, the other 
 Agatha came no more, and Charlie's great 
 resolve went unfulfilled. Yet the next even- 
 ing he Avent alone to the temple, and he 
 found, lying on the floor, a little handker- 
 chief trimmed with lace and embroidered 
 with the name of " Agatha." This he put in 
 his pocket, thanking heaven that his desper- 
 ate manoeuvre had kept the shrine inviolate 
 the day before.
 
 THE LADY OF THE POOL 205 
 
 " Poor Millie ! " said he. " But then I had 
 to do it." 
 
 " I hear," remarked Lady Merceron a few 
 days later, " that one of Mr. Prime's friends 
 has left him — not Willie's young- lady — the 
 other." 
 
 " Has she ? " asked Charlie. 
 
 No one pursued the subject, and, after a 
 moment's pause, Mrs. Marland, who was 
 sitting- nest Charlie, asked him in a low 
 voice whether he had been to the Pool that 
 evening. 
 
 " No," answered Charlie. " I don't go 
 every night." 
 
 " Oh, poor dear Miss Bushell !" laughed 
 Mrs. Marland ; and, when Charlie looked 
 inquiringly at her, she shook her head. 
 
 "You see, I know something of young 
 men," she explained.
 
 CHAPTEE V 
 
 AN UNFORESEEN CASE 
 
 " I wish to goodness," remarked the Rev- 
 erend Sigismund Taylor, rubbing the bridge 
 of his nose with a corner of the Manual, 
 " that the Vicar had never introduced auric- 
 ular confession. It may be in accordance 
 with the practice of the Primitive Church, 
 but — one does meet with such very curious 
 cases. There's nothing the least like it in 
 the Manual." 
 
 He opened the book and searched its 
 pages over again. No, the case had not 
 been foreseen. It must be included in those 
 which were " left to the discretion of the 
 priest." 
 
 "It's a poor Manual," said Mr. Taylor, 
 throwing it down and putting his hands in 
 the pocket of his cassock. " Poor girl ! She 
 was quite distressed, too. I must have some- 
 thins - to tell her when she comes next week."
 
 THE LADY OF THE POOL 207 
 
 Mr. Taylor had, in face of the difficulty, 
 taken time to consider, and the penitent had 
 gone away in suspense. To represent one- 
 self as a dressmaker — well, there was noth- 
 ing very outrageous in that ; it was unbe- 
 coming, but venial, to tell sundry fibs by 
 way of supporting the assumed character — 
 the Manual was equal to that ; but the rest 
 of the disclosure was the c? r ux. Wrong, no 
 doubt, was the conduct — but how wrong? 
 That made all the difference. And then 
 there followed another question : What 
 ought to be done ? She had asked for ad- 
 vice about that also, and, although such 
 counsel was not strictly incumbent on him, 
 he felt that he ought not to refuse it. Alto- 
 gether he was puzzled. At eight-and-twenty 
 one cannot be ready for everything ; yet she 
 had implored him to consult nobody else, 
 and decide for her himself. " I've such trust 
 in you," she had said, wiping away an incip- 
 ient teardrop ; and, although Mr. Taylor 
 told her that the individual was nothing and 
 the Office everything, he had been rather 
 gratified. Thinking that a turn in the open 
 air might clear his brain and enable him 
 better to grapple with this very thorny
 
 208 COMEDIES OF COURTSHIP 
 
 question, he changed his cassock for a long- 
 tailed coat, put on his wide-awake, and, 
 leaving the precincts of St. Edward Con- 
 fessor, struck across Park Lane and along 
 the Row. He passed several people he 
 knew, both men and women : Mrs. Marland 
 was there, attended by two young men, and, 
 a little farther on, he saw old Lord Thrap- 
 ston tottering along on his stick. Lord 
 Thrapston hated a parson, and scowled at 
 poor Mr. Taylor as he went by. Mr. Taylor 
 shrank from meeting his eye, and hurried 
 along till he reached the Serpentine, where 
 he stood still for a few minutes, drinking in 
 the fresh breeze. But the breeze could not 
 blow his puzzle out of his brain. Was it 
 a crime, or merely an escapade ? What had 
 she said to the young man ? What had 
 her feelings been or become towards the 
 young man ? Moreover, what had she caused 
 the young man's feelings to be for her? 
 When he came to think it over, Mr. Taylor 
 discovered, with a shock of surprise, that 
 on all these distinctly material points the 
 confession had been singularly incomplete. 
 He was ashamed of this, for, of course, 
 it was his business to make the confession
 
 THE LADY OF THE POOL 209 
 
 full and exhaustive. He could only plead 
 that, at the moment, it had seemed thor- 
 ough and candid — an unreserved revela- 
 tion. Yet those points did, as a fact, re- 
 main obscure. 
 
 " I wish I knew a little more about human 
 nature," sighed Mr. Taylor : he was thinking 
 of one division of human nature, and it is 
 likely enough that he knew next to nothing 
 of it. 
 
 A hand clapped him on the shoulder, and, 
 with a start, he turned round. A tall young 
 man, in a new frock-coat and a faultless hat, 
 stood by him, smiling at him. 
 
 " What, Charlie, old fellow ! " cried Taylor ; 
 " where do you spring from ? " 
 
 Charlie explained that he was up in town 
 for a month or two. 
 
 " It's splendid to meet you first day ! I 
 was going to look you up," he said. 
 
 Sigismund Taylor and Charlie had been 
 intimate friends at Oxford, although Charlie 
 was, as time counts there, very considerably 
 the junior. For the last two or three years 
 they had hardly met. 
 
 " But what are you up for ? " 
 
 " Oh, well, you see, my uncle wants me to 
 14
 
 210 COMEDIES OF COURTSHIP 
 
 get called to the Bar, or something, so I ran 
 tip to have a look into it." 
 
 " Will that take a month ? " 
 
 " Look here, old fellow, I've got nothing 
 else to do — I don't see why I shouldn't 
 stretch it to three months. Besides, I want 
 to spend some time with my ancestors." 
 
 " With your ancestors ? " 
 
 "In the British Museum : I'm writing a 
 book about them. Queer lot some of them 
 were, too. Of course I'm specially inter- 
 ested in Agatha Merceron ; but I suppose 
 you never heard of her." 
 
 Mr. Taylor confessed his ignorance, and 
 Charlie, taking his arm, walked him up and 
 down the bank, while he talked on his pet 
 subject. Agatha Merceron was always in- 
 teresting, and just now anything about the 
 Pool was interesting ; for there was one 
 reason for his visit to London which he had 
 not disclosed. Nettie Wallace had, when he 
 met her one day, incautiously dropped a 
 word which seemed to imply that the other 
 Agatha was often in London. Nettie tried 
 to recall her words ; but the mischief was 
 done, and Charlie became more than ever 
 convinced that he would grow rusty if he
 
 THE LADY OF THE POOL 211 
 
 staj^ed always at Lang-bury Court. In fact, 
 he could suffer it no longer, and to town lie 
 went. 
 
 For a long while Sigismund Taylor lis- 
 tened with no more than average interest to 
 Charlie's story, but it chanced that one word 
 caught his notice. 
 
 " She comes out of the temple," said 
 Charlie, in the voice of hushed reverence 
 with which he was wont to talk of the un- 
 happy lady. 
 
 " Out of where ? " asked Mr. Taylor. 
 
 " The temple. Oh, I forgot. The temple 
 is — " and Charlie gave a description which 
 need not be repeated. 
 
 Temple ! temple ! Where had he heard 
 of a temple lately? Mr. Taylor cudgelled 
 his brains. Why — why — yes, she had spoken 
 of a temple. She said they met in a temple. 
 It was a strange coincidence : the word had 
 struck him at the time. But then every- 
 body knows that, at a certain period, it was 
 common enough to put up these little clas- 
 sical erections as a memorial or merely as an 
 ornament to pleasure-grounds. It must be 
 
 a mere coincidence. But Mr. Taylor 
 
 stopped short.
 
 212 COMEDIES OF COURTSHIP 
 
 "What's up?" asked Charlie, who had 
 finished his narrative, and was now study- 
 ing the faces of the ladies who rode past. 
 
 " Nothing," answered Mr. Taylor. 
 
 And really it was not much — taken by it- 
 self, entirely unworthy of notice ; even taken 
 in conjunction with the temple, of no real 
 significance, that he could see. Still, it was 
 a whimsical thing that, as had just struck 
 him, Charlie's spectre should be named 
 Agatha. But it came to nothing : how 
 could the name of Charlie's spectre have 
 anything to do with that of his penitent ? 
 
 Presently Charlie, too, fell into silence. 
 He beat his stick moodily against his leg 
 and looked glum and absent. 
 
 " Ah, well," he said at last, " poor Agatha 
 was hardly used : she paid part of the debt 
 we owe woman." 
 
 Mr. Taylor raised his brows and smiled at 
 this gloomily misogynistic sentiment. He 
 had the perception to grasp in a moment 
 what it indicated. His young friend was, 
 or had lately been, or thought he was likely 
 to be, a lover, and an unhappy one. But he 
 did not press Charlie. Confessions were no 
 luxury to him.
 
 THE LADY OF THE POOL 213 
 
 Presently they began to walk back, and 
 Charlie, saying he had to dine with Victor 
 Sutton, made an appointment to see Taylor 
 again, and left him, striking across the 
 Row. Taylor strolled on, and, finding Mrs. 
 Marland still in her seat, sat down by her. 
 She was surprised and pleased to hear that 
 Charlie was in town. 
 
 "I left him at home in deep dumps. 
 You've never been to Langbury Court, have 
 you ? " 
 
 Taylor shook his head. 
 
 " Such a sweet old place ! But, of course, 
 rather dull for a young man, with nobody 
 but his mother and just one or two slow 
 country neighbors." 
 
 " Oh, a run '11 do him good." 
 
 " Yes ; he was quite moped ; " and Mrs. 
 Marland glanced at her companion. She 
 wanted only a very little encouragement to 
 impart her suspicions to him. It must, in 
 justice to Mrs. Marland, be remembered that 
 she had always found the simplest explana- 
 tion of Charlie's devotion to the Pool hard 
 to accept, and the most elaborate demon- 
 stration of how a Canadian canoe may be 
 upset unconvincing.
 
 214 COMEDIES OF COURTSHIP 
 
 "You're a great friend of his, aren't you?" 
 pursued Mrs. Marland. "So I suppose 
 there's no harm in mentioning my suspi- 
 cions to you. Indeed, I daresay you could 
 be of use to him — I mean, persuade him to 
 be wise. I'm afraid, Mr. Taylor, that he is 
 in some entanglement." 
 
 " Dear, dear ! " murmured Mr. Taylor. 
 
 " Oh, I've no positive proof, but I fear so 
 — and a very undesirable entanglement, too, 
 with someone quite beneath him. Yes, I 
 think I had better tell you about it." 
 
 Mr. Taylor sat silent and, save for a start 
 or two, motionless while his companion de- 
 tailed her circumstantial evidence. Whether 
 it was enough to prove Mrs. Marland's case 
 or not — whether, that is, it is inconceivable 
 that a young man should go to any place 
 fourteen evenings running, and upset a 
 friend of his youth out of a canoe, except 
 there be a lady involved, is perhaps doubt- 
 ful; but it was more than enough to show 
 Mr. Sigismund Taylor that the confession 
 he had listened to was based upon fact, and 
 that Charlie Merceron was the other party 
 to those stolen interviews, into whose exact 
 degree of heinousness he was now inquir-
 
 THE LADY OF THE POOL 215 
 
 ing. This knowledge caused Mr. Taylor to 
 feel that he was in an awkward position. 
 
 "Now," asked Mrs. Marland, "candidly, 
 Mr. Taylor, can you suppose anything- else 
 than that our friend Charlie was carrying- on 
 a very pronounced flirtation with this dress- 
 maker ? " 
 
 " Dressmaker ? " 
 
 " Her friend was, and I believe she was 
 too. Something of the kind, anyhow." 
 
 " You — you never saw the — the other per- 
 son?" 
 
 " No ; she kept out of the way. That looks 4 
 bad, doesn't it ? No doubt she was a tawdry 
 vulgar creature. But a man never notices 
 that ! " 
 
 At this moment two people were seen ap- 
 proaching. One of them was a man of mid- 
 dle height and perhaps five-and-thirty years 
 of age ; he was stout and thick-built ; he 
 had a fat face with bulging cheeks ; his eyes 
 were rather like a frog's ; he leant very 
 much forward as he walked, and swayed 
 gently from side to side with a rolling swag- 
 ger ; and as his body rolled, his eye rolled 
 too, and he looked this way and that with a 
 jovial leer and a smile of contentment and
 
 216 COMEDIES OF COURTSHIP 
 
 amusement on his face. The smile and the 
 merry eye redeemed his appearance from 
 blank ugliness, but neither of them indi- 
 cated a spiritual or exalted mind. 
 
 By his side walked a girl, dressed, as Mrs. 
 Marland enviously admitted, as really very 
 few women in London could dress, and wear- 
 ing, in virtue perhaps of the dress, perhaps 
 of other more precious gifts, an air of as- 
 sured perfection and dainty disdain. She 
 was listening to her companion's conversa- 
 tion, and did not notice Sigismund Taylor, 
 with whom she was well acquainted. 
 
 " Dear me, who are those, I wonder ? " 
 exclaimed Mrs. Marland. " She's very dis- 
 tinguee." 
 
 " It's Miss Glyn," answered he. 
 
 " What?— Miss Agatha Glyn ? " 
 
 " Yes," he replied, wondering whether that 
 little coincidence as to the " Agatha " would 
 suggest itself to anyone else. 
 
 " Lord Thrapston's granddaughter ? " 
 
 "Yes." 
 
 " Horrid old man, isn't he ? " 
 
 "I know him very slightly." 
 
 " And the man— who's he ? " 
 
 " Mr. Calder Wentworth."
 
 THE LADY OF THE POOL 217 
 
 "To be sure. Why, they're engaged, 
 aren't they ? I saw it in the paper." 
 
 " I'm sure I don't know," said Mr. Taylor, 
 in a voice more troubled than the matter 
 seemed to require. " I saw it in the paper 
 too." 
 
 " He's no beauty, at any rate ; but he's a 
 great match, I suppose ? " 
 
 " Oh, perhaps it isn't true." 
 
 " You speak as if you wished it wasn't. 
 I've heard about Mr. Wentworth from Vic- 
 tor Sutton — you know who I mean ? " and 
 Mrs. Marland proceeded to give some par- 
 ticulars of Calder Went worth's career. 
 
 Meanwhile that gentleman himself was 
 telling Agatha Glyn a very humorous story. 
 Agatha did not laugh. Suddenly she inter- 
 rupted him. 
 
 " Why don't you ask me more about it ? " 
 
 " I thought you'd tell me if you wanted 
 me to know," he answered. 
 
 " You are the most insufferable man. 
 Don't you care in the least what I do or 
 where I go ? " 
 
 " Got perfect confidence in you," said 
 Calder politely. 
 
 " I don't deserve it."
 
 21 S COMEDIES OF COURTSHIP 
 
 " Oh, I daresay not ; but it's so much more 
 comfortable for me." 
 
 " I disappeared — simply disappeared — for 
 a fortnight ; and you've never asked where I 
 went, or what I did, or — or anything - ." 
 
 " Haven't I ? Where did you go ? " 
 
 " I can't tell you." 
 
 " There, you see ! What the dickens was 
 the good of my asking- ? " 
 
 " If you knew what I did I suppose you'd 
 never speak to me again." 
 
 "All right. Keep it dark then, please." 
 
 " For one thing, I met — No, I won't." 
 
 " I never asked you to, you know." 
 
 They walked on a little way in silence. 
 
 " Met young Sutton at lunch," observed 
 Calder. He's been rusticating with some 
 relations of old Van Merceron's. They've 
 got a nice place apparently." 
 
 " I particularly dislike Mr. Sutton." 
 
 " All right. He sha'n't come when we're 
 married. Eh? What?" 
 
 " I didn't speak," said Miss Glyn, who had 
 certainly done something. 
 
 "Beg pardon," smiled Calder. "Victor 
 told me rather a joke. It appears there's a 
 young Merceron, and the usual rustic
 
 THE LADY OF THE POOL 219 
 
 beauty, don't you know — forget the name — 
 but a fat girl, Victor said, and awfully gone 
 on young- Merceron. Well, there's a pond 
 or something " 
 
 " How long will this story last ? " asked 
 Miss Glyn with a tragic air. 
 
 " It's an uncommon amusing one," pro- 
 tested Calder. " He upset her in the pond, 
 and " 
 
 " Do you mind finishing it some other 
 time ? " 
 
 "Oh, all right. Thought it 'd interest 
 you." 
 
 " It doesn't." 
 
 " Never knew such a girl ! No sense of 
 humor ! " commented Calder, with a shake 
 of his head and a backward roll of his eye 
 towards his companion. 
 
 But it makes such a difference whether a 
 story is new to the hearer.
 
 CHAPTEE VI 
 
 THERE WAS SOMEBODY 
 
 Two worlds and half a dozen industries 
 had conspired to shower gold on Calder 
 Wentworth's head. There was land in the 
 family, brought by his grandmother ; there 
 was finance on the paternal side (whence 
 came a Portuguese title, carefully eschewed 
 by Calder) ; there had been a London street, 
 half a watering-place, a South African mine, 
 and the better part of an American railway. 
 The street and the watering-place remained ; 
 the mine and the railway had been sold at 
 the top of the market. About the same time 
 the family name became Wentworth — it had 
 been Stripes, which was felt to be absurd — 
 and the family itself began to take an ex- 
 alted place in society. The rise was the 
 easier because, when old Mr. Stripes-Went- 
 worth died, young Mr. Calder S. Wentworth 
 became the only representative ; and a rich
 
 THE LADY OF THE POOL 221 
 
 young - bachelor can rise lightly to heights 
 inaccessible to the feet of less happily situ- 
 ated folk. It seemed part of Providence's 
 benevolence that when Lady Forteville 
 asked how many " Stripes women " there 
 were, the answer could be " None ; " where- 
 upon the countess at once invited Mr. 
 Calder Wentworth to dinner. Calder went, 
 and rolled his frog's eyes with much amuse- 
 ment when the lady asked him to what 
 Wentworths he belonged, for, as he observed 
 to Miss Glyn, whom he had the pleasure of 
 escorting, his Wentworths were an entirely 
 new brand, and Lady Forteville knew it as 
 well as if she had read the letters patent and 
 invented the coat-of-arms. 
 
 "Mr. Wentworth — Mr. Merceron," said 
 Victor Sutton, with a wave of his hand. 
 
 " I believe I know an uncle of yours — an 
 uncommon clever fellow," said Calder, un- 
 folding his napkin and glancing round the 
 dining-room of the Themis Club. 
 
 " Oh, Uncle Van ? Yes, we consider him 
 our " 
 
 " Leading article ? Quite so. I've heard 
 a bit about you too — something about a 
 canoe, eh ? "
 
 222 COMEDIES OF COURTSHIP 
 
 Charlie looked somewhat disturbed. 
 
 " Oughtn't Sutton to have told me ? Well, 
 it's too late now, because I've told half a 
 dozen fellows." 
 
 " But there's nothing to tell." 
 
 "Well, I told it to old Thrapston— you 
 don't know him, do you ? Cunningest old 
 boy in London. Upon my honor, you know, 
 I shouldn't like to be like old Thrapston, 
 not when I was getting old, you know. He's 
 too " 
 
 " Well, what did he say ? " asked Victor. 
 
 " He said what you never had the sense to 
 see, my boy ; but I expect Mr. Merceron 
 won't be obliged to me for repeating it." 
 
 "I should like to hear it," said Charlie, 
 with necessary politeness. 
 
 " Well, it's not me, its old Thrapston ; and 
 if you say it's wrong, I'll believe you. Old 
 Thrapston — hang it, Victor, that old man 
 ought to be hanged ! Why, only the other 
 day I saw him " 
 
 " Do stick to the point," groaned Victor. 
 
 "All right. Well, he said, Til lay a 
 guinea there was a ' — and he winked his sin- 
 ful old eye, you know, for all the world like 
 a what-d'ye-call-it in a cathedral — one of
 
 THE LADY OF THE POOL 223 
 
 those hideous — I say, what is the word, Vic- 
 tor ? I saw 'em when Agatha took me — beg 
 pardon, Merceron ? " 
 
 Was the world full of Agathas ? If so, it 
 would be well not to start whenever one was 
 mentioned. Charlie recovered himself. 
 
 " I think you must mean a gargoyle," he 
 said, wondering who this Agatha might be. 
 
 " Of course I do. Fancy forgetting that ! 
 Gargoyle, of course. Well, old Thrapston 
 said, ' I'll lay a guinea there was a woman 
 in that dashed summer-house, Calder, my 
 boy."' 
 
 Victor Sutton's eyes lighted with a gleam. 
 
 " Well, I'm hanged if I ever thought of 
 that ! Charlie, you held us all ! " 
 
 "Bosh!" said Charlie Merceron. "There 
 was no one there." 
 
 " All right. But there ought to have 
 been, you know — to give interest to the posi- 
 tion." 
 
 " Honor bright, Charlie ? " asked Victor 
 Sutton. 
 
 " Shut up, Sutton," interposed Calder. 
 " He's not in the Divorce Court. Let's 
 change the subject." 
 
 Charlie was in a difficulty, but the better
 
 224 COMEDIES OF COURTSHIP 
 
 course seemed to be to allow the subject to 
 be changed, in spite of the wink that accom- 
 panied Calder's suggestion. 
 
 "All right," said Victor. "How is Miss 
 Glyn, Wentworth ? " 
 
 "Oh, she's all right. She's been in the 
 country for a bit, but she's back now." 
 
 " And when is the happy event to be ? " 
 
 Calder laid down his knife and fork and 
 remarked deliberately : 
 
 " I haven't, my dear boy, the least idea." 
 
 " I should hurry her up," laughed Sutton. 
 
 "I'd just like — now I should just like to 
 put you in my shoes for half an hour, and 
 see you hurry up Agatha." 
 
 " She couldn't eat me." 
 
 " Eat you ? No, but she'd flatten you out 
 so that you'd go under that door and leave 
 room for the jolly draught there is all the 
 same." 
 
 Sutton laughed complacently. 
 
 " "Well, you're a patient man," he observed. 
 " For my part, I like a thing to be off or 
 on." 
 
 It came to Charlie Merceron almost as a 
 surprise to find that Victor's impudence — 
 he could call it by no other name— was not
 
 THE LADY OF THE POOL 225 
 
 reserved for his juniors or for young 1 men 
 from the country ; but Calder took it quite 
 good-hunioredly, contenting- himself with 
 observing, 
 
 " Well, it was very soon off in your case, 
 wasn't it, old fellow ? " 
 
 Sutton flushed. 
 
 " I've told you before that that's not true," 
 he said angrily. 
 
 Calder laughed. 
 
 " All right, all right. We used to think, 
 once upon a time, Merceron, you know, that 
 old Victor here was a bit smitten himself ; 
 but he hasn't drugged my champagne yet, 
 so of course, as he says, it was all a mistake." 
 
 After dinner the three separated. Victor 
 had to go to a party. Calder Wentworth 
 proposed to Charlie that they should take 
 a stroll together with a view to seeing 
 whether, when they came opposite to the 
 door of a music-hall, they would " feel like " 
 dropping in to see part of the entertainment. 
 Charlie agreed, and, having lit their cigars, 
 they set out. He found his new friend 
 amusing, and Calder, for his part, took a lik- 
 ing for Charlie, largely on account of his 
 
 good looks ; like many plain people, he was 
 15
 
 226 COMEDIES OF COURTSHIP 
 
 extremely sensitive to the influence of beauty 
 in women and men alike. 
 
 " I say, old fellow," he said, pressing 1 
 Charlie's arm as if he had known him all his 
 life, " there was somebody in that summer- 
 house, eh ? " 
 
 Charlie turned with a smile and a blush. 
 He felt confidential. 
 
 " Yes, there was, only Victor " 
 
 " Oh, I know. I nearly break his head 
 whenever he mentions any girl I like." 
 
 " You know what he'd have thought — and 
 it wasn't anything like that really." 
 
 " Who was she, then ? " 
 
 "I— I don't know." 
 
 " Oh, I don't mean her name, of course. 
 But what was she ? " 
 
 " I don't know." 
 
 " Where did she come from ? " 
 
 "London, I believe." 
 
 " Oh ! I say, that's a queer go, Merce- 
 ron." 
 
 " I don't know what to think about it. 
 She's simply vanished," said poor Charlie, 
 and no one should wonder if his voice fal- 
 tered a little. Calder Wentworth laughed 
 at many things, but he did not laugh now at
 
 THE LADY OF THE POOL 227 
 
 Charlie Merceron. Indeed he looked un- 
 usually grave. 
 
 " I should drop it," he remarked. " It 
 don't look — well — healthy." 
 
 " Ah, you've never seen her," said Charlie. 
 
 " No, and I tell you what — it won't be a 
 bad thing- if you don't see her again." 
 
 "Why?" 
 
 " Because you're just in the state of mind 
 to marry her." 
 
 " And why shouldn't I ? " 
 
 Mr. Wentworth made no answer, and they 
 walked on till they reached Piccadilly Cir- 
 cus. Then Charlie suddenly darted forward. 
 
 " Hullo, what's up ? " cried Calder, follow- 
 ing him. 
 
 Charlie was talking eagerly to a very 
 smart young lady who had just got down 
 from an omnibus. 
 
 " By Jove ! he can't have found her ! " 
 thought Calder. 
 
 It was not the unknown, but her friend 
 Nettie "Wallace, whom Charlie's quick eye 
 had discerned ; and the next moment Willie 
 Prime made his appearance. Charlie re- 
 ceived them both almost with enthusiasm, 
 and the news from Lang Marsh was asked
 
 228 COMEDIES OF COURTSHIP 
 
 and given. Calder drew near, and Charlie 
 presented his friends to one another with 
 the intent that he might get a word with 
 Nettie while Calder engrossed her fiance's 
 attention. 
 
 " Have — have you heard from Miss Brown 
 lately ? " he was just beginning, when Cal- 
 der, who had been looking steadily at Nettie, 
 burst out : 
 
 " Hullo, I say, Miss Wallace, we've met be- 
 fore, haven't we ? You know me, don't you ? " 
 
 Nettie laughed. 
 
 " Oh, yes, I know you, sir. You're " 
 
 She paused abruptly, and glanced from 
 Charlie to Calder, and back from Calder to 
 Charlie. Then she blushed very red indeed. 
 
 "Well, who am I?" 
 
 " I — I saw you at — at Miss Glyn's, Mr. 
 Wentworth." 
 
 " 'Course you did — that's it ; " and, looking 
 curiously at the girl's flushed face, he added : 
 " Don't be afraid to mention Miss Glyn ; 
 Mr. Merceron knows all about it." 
 
 " All about it, does he, sir ? " cried Nettie. 
 " Well, I'm glad of that. I haven't been 
 easy in my mind ever since." 
 
 Calder's conformation of eye enabled him
 
 THE LADY OF THE POOL 229 
 
 to express much surprise by facial expres- 
 sion, and at this moment he used his power 
 to the full. 
 
 " Awfully kind of you, Miss Wallace," 
 said he, " but I don't see where your respon- 
 sibility comes in. Ever since what ? " 
 
 Nettie shot a glance of inquiry at Charlie, 
 but here too she met only bewilderment. 
 
 "Does he know that Miss Glyn is " 
 
 she began. 
 
 " Engaged to me ? Certainly." 
 
 "Oh!" 
 
 Willie stood by in silence. He had never 
 heard of this Miss Glyn. Charlie, puzzled 
 as he was, was too intent on Miss Brown to 
 spend much time wondering why Miss 
 Glyn's affairs should have been a trouble to 
 Nettie. 
 
 "You'll let me know if you hear about 
 her, won't you ? " he asked in a low voice. 
 
 Nettie gave up the hope of understanding. 
 She shook her head. 
 
 "I'll ask her, if I see her, whether she 
 wishes it," she whispered back ; and, with a 
 hasty good-night, she seized Willie's arm 
 and hurried him off. Charlie was left alone 
 with Calder.
 
 230 COMEDIES OF COURTSHIP 
 
 " What the deuce did she mean ? " asked 
 Calder. 
 
 " I don't know," answered Charlie. 
 
 " Where did you meet her ? " 
 
 " Oh, down at home. The fellow she was 
 with is a son of a tenant of ours ; she's go- 
 ing to marry him." 
 
 " She's a nice little girl, but I'm hanged if 
 I know what she meant." 
 
 And, as the one was thinking exclusively 
 of Agatha Glyn, and the other spared a 
 thought for no one but Agatha Brown, they 
 did not arrive at an explanation. 
 
 One result, however, that chance encounter 
 had. The next morning Miss Agatha Glyn 
 received a letter in the following terms : — 
 
 " Madam :— I hope you will excuse me in- 
 truding, but I think you would wish to know 
 that Mr. Charles Merceron is in London, and 
 that I met him this evening with Mr. Went- 
 worth. As you informed me that you had 
 passed Mr. Merceron on the road two or 
 three times during your visit to Lang Marsh, 
 I think you may wish to be informed of the 
 above. I may add that Mr. Merceron is 
 aware that you are engaged to Mr. Went-
 
 THE LADY OF THE POOL 231 
 
 worth, but I could not make out how far he 
 was aware of what happened at Lang" Marsh. 
 I think he does not know it. Of course you 
 will know whether Mr. Wentworth is aware 
 of your visit there. I should be much 
 obliged if you would be so kind as to tell 
 me what to say if I meet the gentlemen 
 again. Mr. Merceron is very pressing in 
 asking me for news of you. I am to be mar- 
 ried in a fortnight from the present date, 
 and I am, Madam, yours respectfully, 
 
 " Nettie Wallace." 
 
 " In London, and with Calder ! " exclaimed 
 Agatha Glyn. " Oh dear ! oh dear ! oh dear ! 
 What is to be done ? I wish I'd never 
 gone near the wretched place ! " 
 
 Then she took up the letter and re-read it. 
 
 " He and I mustn't meet, that's all," she 
 said. 
 
 Then she slowly tore the letter into very 
 small pieces and put them in the waste-paper 
 basket. 
 
 " Calder has no idea where I was," she 
 said, and she sat down by the window and 
 looked out over the Park for nearly ten 
 minutes.
 
 232 COMEDIES OF COURTSHIP 
 
 " Ah, well ! I should like to see him just 
 ouce again. Dear old Pool ! " said she. 
 
 Then she suddenly began to laugh — an 
 action only to be excused in one in her posi- 
 tion, and burdened with her sins, by the 
 fact of her having at the moment a peculiarly 
 vivid vision of Millie Bushell going head 
 first out of a canoe.
 
 CHAPTEK VII 
 
 THE INEVITABLE MEETING 
 
 The first Viscount Thrapston had been an 
 eminent public character, and the second 
 a respectable private person ; the third had 
 been neither. And yet there was some good 
 in the third. He had loved his only son 
 with a fondness rare to find ; and for ten 
 whole years, while the young- man was be- 
 tween seventeen and twenty-seven, the old 
 lord lived, for his sake, a life open to no re- 
 proach. Then the son died, leaving a lately 
 married wife and a baby-girl, and Lord 
 Thrapston, deprived at once of hope and of 
 restraint, returned to his old courses, till 
 age came upon him and drove him from 
 practice into reminiscence. Mrs. Glyn had 
 outlived her husband fifteen years and then 
 followed him, fairly snubbed to death, some 
 said, by her formidable father-in-law. The 
 daughter was of sterner stuff, and early dis-
 
 234 COMEDIES OF COURTSHIP 
 
 covered for herself that nothing worse than 
 a scoavI or a snarl was to be feared. On her, 
 indeed, descended a relic of that tenderness 
 her father had enjoyed, and Agatha used to 
 the full the advantages it gave her. She 
 knew her own importance. It is not every 
 girl who will be a peeress in her own right, 
 and she amused her grandfather by calmly 
 informing him that it was not on the whole 
 a subject for regret that she had not been a 
 boy. " You see," said she, " we get rid of 
 the new viscounty, and it's much better to 
 be Warmley than Thrapston." 
 
 The fact that she was some day to be 
 " Warmley " was the mainspring of that 
 hairbrained jaunt to Lang Marsh in com- 
 pany with Nettie Wallace. Nettie was the 
 daughter of Lord Thrapston's housekeeper, 
 and the two girls had been intimate in youth, 
 much as Charlie Merceron and Willie Prime 
 had been at the Court ; and when Nettie, 
 scorning servitude, set up in life for herself, 
 Agatha gave her her custom and did not with- 
 draw her friendship. In return, she received 
 an allegiance which refused none of her be- 
 hests, and a regard which abolished all for- 
 mality between them, except when Nettie
 
 THE LADY OF THE POOL 235 
 
 got a pen in her hand and set herself to com- 
 pose a polite letter. The expedition was, of 
 course, to see the Court — the old home of 
 the Warmleys, for which Agatha felt a sen- 
 timental attraction. She had told herself 
 that some day, if she were rich (and, Lord 
 Thrapston not being 1 rich, she must have had 
 some other resource in her mind), she would 
 buy back Langbury Court and get rid of the 
 Mercerons altogether. There were only a 
 widow and a boy, she had heard, and they 
 should have their price. So she went to the 
 Court in the business-like mood of a possible 
 purchaser (Calder could afford anything), 
 as well as in the romantic mood of a girl 
 escaped from every-day surroundings and 
 plunging* into a past full of interest to her. 
 Had not she also read of Agatha Merceron ? 
 And in this mixed mood she remained till 
 one evening at the Pool she had met " the 
 boy," when the mood became more mixed 
 still. She dared not now look back on the 
 struggles she had gone through before her 
 meeting with the boy became first a daily 
 event, and then the daily event. She had 
 indulged herself for once. It was not to 
 last ; but for once it was overpoweringly
 
 236 COMEDIES OF COURTSHIP 
 
 sweet to be gazed at by eyes that did not re- 
 mind her of a frog's, and to see swiftly dart- 
 ing towards her a lithe straight figure 
 crowned with a head that (so she said) re- 
 minded her of Lord Byron's. But alas ! 
 alas ! why had nobody told her that the boy 
 was like that before she went? Why did 
 her grandfather take no care of her ? Why 
 did Calder never show any interest in what 
 she did? Why, in fine, was everybody so 
 cruel as to let her do exactly what she liked, 
 and thereby get into a scrape like this ? 
 
 One thing was certain. If that boy were 
 in London, she must avoid him. They must 
 never meet. It was nonsense for Mr. Sigis- 
 mund Taylor to talk of making a clean 
 breast of it — of a dignified apology to Char- 
 lie, coupled with a no less dignified intima- 
 tion that their acquaintance must be re- 
 garded as closed. Mr. Taylor knew nothing 
 of the world. He even wanted her to tell 
 Calder ! No. She was truly and properly 
 penitent, and she hoped that she received 
 all he said in that line in a right spirit ; but 
 when it came to a question of expediency, 
 she would rather have Mrs. Blunt's advice 
 than that of a thousand Mr. Taylors. So
 
 THE LADY OF THE POOL 237 
 
 she wrote to Mrs. Blunt and asked herself 
 to lunch, and Mrs. Blunt, being- an accom- 
 plished painstaking* hostess, and having no 
 reason to suppose that her young friend de- 
 sired a confidential interview, at once cast 
 about for some one whom Agatha would 
 like to meet. She did not ask Calder Went- 
 worth — she was not so commonplace as that 
 — but she invited Victor Sutton, and, de- 
 lighting in a happy flash of inspiration, she 
 added Mr. Vansittart Merceron. The fami- 
 lies were connected in some way, she knew, 
 and Agatha certainly ought to know Mr. 
 Merceron. 
 
 Accordingly, when Agatha arrived, she 
 found Victor, and she had not been there 
 five minutes before the butler, throwing 
 open the door, announced " Mr. Merce- 
 ron." 
 
 Uncle Van had reached that state of body 
 when he took his time over stairs, and be- 
 tween the announcement and his entrance 
 there was time for Agatha to exclaim, quite 
 audibly, 
 
 "Oh!" 
 
 "What's the matter, dear?" asked Mrs. 
 Blunt ; but Uncle Van's entrance forbade a
 
 238 COMEDIES OF COURTSHIP 
 
 reply, and left Agatha blushing but re- 
 lieved. 
 
 Was she never to hear the end of that 
 awful story ? It might be natural that, her 
 hereditary connection with the Mercerons 
 being disclosed, Mr. Vansittart should dis- 
 course of Langbury Court, of the Pool, and 
 of Agatha Merceron ; but was it necessary 
 that Victor Sutton should chime in with the 
 w r hole history of the canoe and Miss Bush- 
 ell, or joke with Mr. Merceron about his 
 nephew's " assignations ? " The whole topic 
 seemed in bad taste, and she wondered that 
 Mrs. Blunt did not discourage it. But what 
 horrible creatures men were ! Did they 
 really think it impossible for a girl to like 
 to talk to a man for an hour or so in the 
 evening without ? 
 
 "You must let me bring my nephew to 
 meet Miss Glyn," said Uncle Van graciously 
 to his hostess. " She is so interested in the 
 family history that she and Charlie would 
 get on like wildfire. He's mad about it." 
 
 "In fact," sniggered Victor (Miss Glyn 
 always detested that man), " so interested 
 that, as you hear, he went to meet Agatha 
 Merceron every evening for a fortnight ! "
 
 THE LADY OF THE POOL 239 
 
 "You'll be delighted to meet him, won't 
 you, Agatha? We must arrange a day," 
 said Mrs. Blunt. 
 
 " Calder knows him," added Victor. 
 
 "He's an idle young dog," said Uncle 
 Van, " but a nice fellow. A little flighty 
 and fanciful, as boys will be, but no harm in 
 him. You mustn't attach too much impor- 
 tance to our chaff about his meetings at 
 the Pool, Miss Glyn ; we don't mean any 
 harm." 
 
 Agatha tried to smile, but the attempt 
 was not a brilliant success. She stammered 
 that she would be delighted to meet Mr. 
 Charles Merceron, swearing in her heart 
 that she would sooner start for Tierra del 
 Fuego. But her confession to Mrs. Blunt 
 would save her, if only these odious men 
 would go. They had had their coffee, and 
 their liqueurs, and their cigarettes. What 
 more, in Heaven's name, could even a man 
 want to propitiate the god of his idola- 
 try? 
 
 Apparently the guests themselves became 
 aware that they were trespassing, for Uncle 
 Van, turning to his hostess with his blandest 
 smile, remarked,
 
 240 COMEDIES OF COURTSHIP 
 
 " I hope we're not staying too long". The 
 fact is, my dear Mrs. Blunt, you're always so 
 kind that we took the liberty of telling Cal- 
 der Wentworth to call for us here. He 
 ought to have come by now." 
 
 Mrs. Blunt declared that she would be 
 offended if they thought of going before 
 Calder came. Agatha rose in despair : the 
 confession must be put off. She held out 
 her hand to her hostess. At this moment 
 the door-bell rang. 
 
 " That's him," said Victor. 
 
 " Sit down again for a minute, dear," urged 
 Mrs. Blunt. 
 
 There was renewed hope for the confes- 
 sion. Agatha sat down. But hardly had 
 she done so before the strangest presenti- 
 ment came over her. She heard the door 
 below open and shut, and it was borne in 
 upon her mind that two men had entered. 
 How she guessed it, she could not tell, but, 
 as she sat there, she had no doubt at all that 
 Charlie Merceron had come with Calder 
 Wentworth. Escape was impossible, but 
 she walked across to the window and stood 
 there, with her back to the door. 
 
 " Mr. Wentworth ! " she heard, and then,
 
 THE LADY OF THE POOL 241 
 
 cutting- the servant short, came Calder's 
 voice. 
 
 " I took the liberty " he began : and 
 
 she did not know how he went on, for her 
 head was swimming. 
 
 " Agatha ! Agatha, dear ! " called Mrs. 
 Blunt. 
 
 Perforce she turned, passing her hand 
 quickly across her brow. Yes ! It was so. 
 There he stood by Calder's side, and Calder 
 was saying, 
 
 "My dear Agatha, this is Charlie Mer~ 
 ceron." 
 
 She would not look at Charlie. She 
 moved slowly forward, her eyes fixed on 
 Calder, and bowed with a little set smile. 
 Luckily people pay slight attention to one 
 another's expressions on social occasions, or 
 they must all have noticed her agitation. 
 As it was, only Calder Wentworth looked 
 curiously at her before he turned aside to 
 shake hands with Uncle Van. 
 
 Then she felt Charlie Merceron coming 
 nearer, and, a second later, she heard his 
 voice. 
 
 " Is it possible that it's you ? " he asked, 
 in a low tone. 
 16
 
 242 COMEDIES OF COURTSHIP 
 
 Then she looked at him. His face was 
 pale and his eyes eagerly straining- to read 
 what might be in hers. 
 
 " Hush ! " she whispered. " Yes. Hush ! 
 hush ! " ' 
 
 "But — but he told me your name was 
 Glyn?" 
 
 "Yes." 
 
 " And he says you're engaged to him." 
 
 Agatha clasped her hands, and Calder's 
 voice broke in between them : 
 
 " Come along, Merceron, we're waiting for 
 you." 
 
 " They've got into antiquities already," 
 smiled Mrs. Blunt. " You must come again, 
 Mr. Merceron, and meet Miss Glyn. Mustn't 
 he, Agatha ? " 
 
 Agatha threw one glance at him. 
 
 " If he will," she said. 
 
 Charlie pulled himself together, muttered 
 something appropriate, and shuffled out 
 ■under his uncle's wing. Mr. Vansittart was 
 surprised to find him a trifle confused and 
 awkward in society. 
 
 Outside the house, Charlie ranged up be- 
 side Calder Wentworth, leaving Uncle Van 
 and Sutton together.
 
 THE LADY OF THE POOL 243 
 
 " Well, what do you think of her ? " asked 
 Calder. 
 
 Charlie gave no opinion. He asked just 
 one question : 
 
 " How long have you been engaged to 
 her?" 
 
 "How long? Oh, let's see. About — yes, 
 just about a year. I never knew that there 
 was a sort of connection between you and 
 her — sort of relationship, you know. I ain't 
 strong on the Peerage." 
 
 " A sort of connection ! " There was that 
 in more senses than the one Calder had been 
 told of by Uncle Yan. There was a connec- 
 tion that poor Charlie thought Heaven itself 
 had tied on those summer evenings by the 
 Pool, which to strengthen and confirm for- 
 ever he had sallied from his home, like a 
 knight in search of his mistress the world 
 over in olden days. And he found her — 
 such as this girl must be ! Stay ! He did 
 not know all yet. Perhaps she had been 
 forced into a bond she hated. He knew 
 that happened. Did not stories tell of it, 
 and moralists declaim against it ? This 
 man — this creature, Calder Wentworth — was 
 buying her with his money, forcing himself
 
 244 COMEDIES OF COURTSHIP 
 
 on her, brutally capturing her. Of course ! 
 How could he have doubted her ? Charlie 
 dropped Calder's arm as though it had been 
 made of red-hot iron. 
 
 "Hullo!" exclaimed that worthy fellow, 
 unconscious of offence. 
 
 Charlie stopped short. 
 
 "I can't come," he said. "I — I've remem- 
 bered an engagement ; " and without more 
 he turned away and shot out of sight round 
 the nearest corner. 
 
 "Well, I'm hanged!" said Calder Went- 
 worth, and, with a puzzled frown, he joined 
 his other friends.
 
 CHAPTER VHI 
 
 THE MORAL OF IT 
 
 Left alone with Mrs. Blunt, Agatha sank 
 into the nearest chair. 
 
 "A very handsome young- man, isn't he? " 
 asked the good lady, pushing- a chair back 
 into its place. " He'll be an acquisition, I 
 think." 
 
 Agatha made no answer, and Mrs. Blunt, 
 glancing at her, found her devouring the 
 carpet with a stony stare. 
 
 " What on earth's the matter, child ? " 
 
 " I'm the wretchedest wickedest girl alive," 
 declared Agatha. 
 
 " Good gracious ! " 
 
 "Mrs. Blunt, who do you think was in 
 the summer-house when Mr. Merceron went 
 there?" 
 
 "My dear, are you ill? You jump about 
 so from subject to subject." 
 
 " It's all one subject, Mrs. Blunt. There 
 was a girl there."
 
 246 COMEDIES OF COURTSHIP 
 
 " Well, my dear, and if there was ? Boys 
 will be boys ; and I'm sure there was no 
 harm." 
 
 "No harm! Oh!" 
 
 " Agatha, are you crazy ? " demanded 
 Mrs. Blunt, with an access of sternness. 
 
 " Could I fancy," pursued Agatha, in de- 
 spairing playfulness mimicking Uncle Van's 
 manner, "how Miss Bushell looked, and 
 how Victor looked, and how everybody 
 looked ? Could I fancy it ? Why, / was 
 there ! " 
 
 "There! Where?" 
 
 " Why, in that wretched little temple. I 
 was the girl, Mrs. Blunt. I — I — I was the 
 milkmaid, as Mr. Sutton says. I was the 
 country wench ! Oh dear ! oh dear ! oh 
 dear!" 
 
 Mrs. Blunt, knowing her sex, held out a 
 bottle of salts. 
 
 " I'm not mad," said Agatha. 
 
 " You're nearly hysterical." 
 
 Agatha took a long sniff. 
 
 "I think I can tell you now," she said 
 more calmly. " But was ever a girl in such 
 an awful position before ? " 
 
 It is needless to repeat what Mrs. Blunt
 
 THE LADY OF THE POOL 247 
 
 said. Her censures will have been long- 
 ago anticipated by every right thinking per- 
 son, and if she softened them down a little 
 more than strict justice allowed, it must 
 have been because Agatha was an old favor- 
 ite of hers, and Lord Thrapston an old an- 
 tipathy. Upon her word, she always won- 
 dered that the poor child, brought up by 
 that horrid old man, was not twice as bad as 
 she was. 
 
 " But what am I to do about them ? " 
 cried Agatha. 
 
 " Them " evidently meant Calder and 
 Charlie. 
 
 " Do ! Why, there's nothing to do. You 
 must just apologize to Mr. Merceron, and 
 tell him that an end had better be put " 
 
 " Oh, I know— Mr. Taylor said that ; but, 
 Mrs. Blunt, I don't want an end to be put 
 to our acquaintance. I like him very very 
 much. Oh, and he thinks me horrid ! Oh ! " 
 
 " Take another sniff," advised Mrs. Blunt. 
 " Of course, if Mr. Merceron is willing to let 
 bygones be bygones, and just be an ac- 
 quaintance " 
 
 " Oh, but I know he won't. If you knew 
 Charlie "
 
 248 COMEDIES OF COURTSHIP 
 
 " Knew who, Agatha ? " 
 
 " Mr. Merceron," said Agatha, in a very 
 humble voice. "If you knew him at all, 
 you'd know he wouldn't do that." 
 
 " Then you must send him about his busi- 
 ness. Oh, yes, I know. You've treated him 
 atrociously, but Calder Wentworth must be 
 considered first ; that is, if you care two 
 straws for the poor fellow, which I begin to 
 doubt." 
 
 " Oh, I do, Mrs. Blunt ! " 
 
 " Agatha, you shameless girl, which of 
 these men ? " 
 
 "Don't talk as if there were a dozen of 
 them, dear Mrs. Blunt. There are only 
 two." 
 
 " One too many." 
 
 "Yes, I know. You — you see I'm — I'm 
 accustomed to Calder." 
 
 " Oh, are you ? " 
 
 " Yes. Don't be unkind, Mrs. Blunt. And 
 then Charlie was something so new — such a 
 charming change — that " 
 
 " Upon my word, you might be your 
 grandfather. Talk about heredity, and Ib- 
 sen, and all that ! " 
 
 " Can't you help me, dear Mrs. Blunt ? "
 
 THE LADY OF THE POOL 249 
 
 " I can't give you two husbands, if that's 
 what you want. There, child, don't cry. 
 Never mind me. Have another sniff." 
 
 "I shall go home," said Agatha. "Per- 
 haps grandpapa may be able to advise 
 me." 
 
 " Your grandfather ! Gracious goodness, 
 girl, you're never going to tell him ? " 
 
 " Yes, I shall. Grandpapa's had a lot of 
 experience : he says so." 
 
 " I should think he had ! " whispered Mrs. 
 Blunt with uplifted hands. 
 
 " Good-by, Mrs. Blunt. You don't know 
 how unhappy I am. Thanks, yes, a han- 
 som, please. Mrs. Blunt, are you going to 
 ask Mr. Merceron here again ? " 
 
 Mrs. Blunt's toleration was exhausted. 
 
 " Be off with you ! " she said sternly, point- 
 ing a forefinger at the door. 
 
 By great good fortune Agatha found Lord 
 Thrapston at home. Drawing a footstool 
 beside his chair, she sat down. Her agita- 
 tion was past, and she wore a gravely busi- 
 ness-like air. 
 
 "Grandpapa," she began, "I have got 
 something to tell you." 
 
 " Go ahead, my dear," said the old gentle-
 
 250 COMEDIES OF COURTSHIP 
 
 man, stroking her golden hair. Her father 
 had curls like that when he was a boy. 
 
 " Something dreadful I've done, you know. 
 But you won't be very angry, will you ? " 
 
 " We'll see." 
 
 "You oughtn't to be, because you're not 
 very good yourself, are you? " and she first 
 glanced up into his burnt-out old eyes and 
 then pressed her lips on his knotted lean 
 old hand. 
 
 " Aggy," said he, " I expect you play 
 the deuce with the young fellows, don't 
 you ? " 
 
 Agatha laughed softly, but a frown suc- 
 ceeded. 
 
 " That's just it," she said. " Now, you're 
 to listen and not interrupt, or I shall never 
 be able to manage it. And you're not to 
 look at me, grandpapa." 
 
 The narrative — that thrice-told tale — be- 
 gan. As the comments of Mr. Taylor and 
 Mrs. Blunt were omitted, those of Lord 
 Thrapston may well receive like treatment, 
 more especially as they tended not to edifi- 
 cation ; but before his granddaughter had 
 finished her story the old man had sworn 
 softly four times and chuckled audibly twice.
 
 TEE LADY OF THE POOL 251 
 
 " I knew there was a girl in that temple, 
 soon as Calder told me," said he. 
 
 "But you didn't know who it was. Oh, 
 and Calder doesn't ? " 
 
 " Not he. Well, you've made a pretty 
 little fool of yourself, missie. What are you 
 going- to do now ? " 
 
 " That's what you've got to tell me." 
 
 " I ? Oh, I dare say. No, no ; you got 
 into the scrape and you can get out of it. 
 And " He suddenly recollected his du- 
 ties. " Look here, Agatha, I must — hang it, 
 Agatha, I shouldn't be doing my duty as — 
 as a grandfather if I didn't say that it's a 
 monstrous disgraceful thing of you to have 
 
 done. Yes, d d disgraceful ; " and he took 
 
 a pinch of snuff with an air of severe virtue. 
 
 " Yes, dear ; but you shouldn't swear, 
 should you ? " 
 
 Lord Thrapston felt that he had spoilt the 
 moral effect of his reproof, and, without 
 dwelling further on that aspect of the sub- 
 ject, he addressed his mind to the more 
 practical question. The outcome, different 
 as the source was, was the same old verdict. 
 
 " We must tell Calder, my dear. It isn't 
 right to keep him in the dark."
 
 252 COMEDIES OF COURTSHIP 
 
 " I can't tell him. Why must he be told ? " 
 
 " Well," said Lord Thrapston, " it's just 
 possible, Aggy, that he may have something 
 to say to it, isn't it ? " 
 
 " I don't mind what he says," declared 
 Agatha. 
 
 " Eh ? Why, I thought you were so fond 
 of him." 
 
 " So I am." 
 
 "And as you're going to marry him " 
 
 " I never said I was going to marry him. 
 I only said he might be engaged to me, if he 
 liked." 
 
 " Oho ! So this young Merceron " 
 
 "Not at all, grandpapa. Oh, I do wish 
 somebody would help me ! " 
 
 Lord Thrapston rose from his seat. 
 
 " You must do what you like," he said. 
 " I'm going to tell Calder." 
 
 "Oh, why?" 
 
 "Because," he answered, "I'm a man of 
 honor." 
 
 Before the impressive invocation of her 
 grandfather's one religion, Agatha's opposi- 
 tion collapsed. 
 
 "I suppose he must be told," she ad- 
 mitted mournfully. " I expect he'll never
 
 THE LADY OF THE POOL 253 
 
 speak to me again, and I'm sure Mr. Merce- 
 ron won't ; " and she sat on the footstool, 
 the picture of dejection. 
 
 Lord Thrapston was moved to enunciate a 
 solemn truth. 
 
 " Aggy," said he, shaking his finger at 
 her, " in this world } r ou can't have your fun 
 for nothing." But then he spoilt it by add- 
 ing regretfully, " More's the pity ! " and off 
 he hobbled to the club, intent on finding 
 Calder Wentworth. 
 
 For some time after he went, Agatha sat 
 on her stool in deep thought. Then she 
 rose, sat down at the writing-table, took a 
 pen, and began to bite the end of it. At 
 last she started to write : 
 
 " I don't know whether I ought to write 
 or not, but I must tell you how it happened. 
 Oh, don't think too badly of me ! I came 
 down just because I had heard so much 
 about the Court and I wanted to see it, and 
 I came as I did with Nettie Wallace just for 
 fun. I never meant to say I was a dress- 
 maker, you know ; but people would ask 
 questions and I had to say something. I 
 never, never thought of you. I thought you
 
 254 COMEDIES OF COURTSHIP 
 
 were about fifteen. And you know — oh, you 
 must know — that I met you quite by acci- 
 dent, and was just as surprised as you were. 
 And the rest was all your fault. I didn't 
 want to come again ; you know I refused 
 ever so many times ; and you promised you 
 wouldn't come if I came, and then you did 
 come. It was really all your fault. And I'm 
 very, very sorry, and you must please try to 
 forgive me, dear Mr. Merceron, and not think 
 me a very wicked girl. I had no idea of 
 coming every evening, but you persuaded 
 me. You know you persuaded me. And 
 how could I tell you I was engaged ? You 
 know you never asked me. I would have 
 told you if you had. I am telling Mr. Went- 
 worth all about it, and I don't think you 
 ought to have persuaded me to meet you as 
 you did. It wasn't really kind or nice of you, 
 was it ? Because, of course, I'm not very 
 old, and I don't know much about the world, 
 and I never thought of all the horrid things 
 people would say. Do, please, keep this 
 quite a secret. I felt I must write you just a 
 line. I wonder what you're thinking about 
 me, or whether you're thinking about me at 
 all. You must never think of me again. I
 
 r 
 THE LADY OF THE POOL 255 
 
 am very, very unhappy, and I do most ear- 
 nestly hope, dear Mr. Merceron, that I have 
 not made you unhappy. We were both very 
 much to blame, weren't we ? But we slipped 
 into it without knowing. Good-by. I don't 
 think I shall ever forget the dear old Pool, 
 and the temple, and — the rest. But you 
 must please forget me and forgive me. I am 
 very miserable about it and about every- 
 thing. I think we had better not know each 
 other any more, so please don't answer this. 
 Just put it in the fire and think no more 
 about it or me. I wanted to tell you all this 
 when I saw you to - day, but I couldn't. 
 Good-by. Why did we ever meet ? 
 
 "Agatha Glyn." 
 
 She read this rather confused composition 
 over twice, growing more sorry for herself 
 each time. Then she put it in an envelope, 
 addressed it to Charlie, looked out Uncle 
 Van in the Directory, and sent it under cover 
 to his residence. Then she went and lay 
 down on the hearth-rug, and began to cry, 
 and through her tears she said aloud to her- 
 self, 
 
 " I wonder whether he'll write or come."
 
 256 COMEDIES OF COURTSHIP 
 
 Because it seemed to her entirely impos- 
 sible that, in spite of her prayer, he should 
 put the letter in the fire and let her go. 
 Surely he too remembered the dear old Pool, 
 and the temple, and — the rest !
 
 CHAPTEK IX 
 
 TWO MEN OF SPIRIT 
 
 " The fact is," observed Lord Thrapston 
 complacently, " the girl very much resembles 
 me in disposition." 
 
 Calder's eyes grew larger and rounder. 
 
 " Do you really think so ? " he asked 
 anxiously. 
 
 " Well, this little lark of hers — hang me, 
 it's just what I should have enjoyed doing 
 fifty years ago." 
 
 "Ah — er — Lord Thrapston, have you 
 noticed the resemblance you speak of in any 
 other way ? " 
 
 " That girl, except that she is a girl, is 
 myself over again — myself over again." 
 
 " The deuce ! " 
 
 " I beg your pardon, Calder ; I grow hard 
 of hearing." 
 
 "Nothing, Lord Thrapston. Look here, 
 
 Lord Thrapston " 
 
 17
 
 25S COMEDIES OF COURTSHIP 
 
 " Well, well, my dear boy ? " 
 
 " Oh, nothing- ; that is " 
 
 " But she'll be all right in your hands, my 
 boy. You must keep an eye on her, don't 
 you know : she'll need a bit o' driving ; but 
 I really don't see why you should come to 
 grief. I don't, 'pon my soul. No. With 
 tact on your part, you might very well pull 
 through." 
 
 " How d'ye mean tact, Lord Thrapston ? " 
 
 " Oh, amuse her. Let her travel ; give 
 her lots of society ; don't bother her with 
 domestic affairs. Don't let her feel she's 
 under any obligation. That's what she kicks 
 against. So do I ; always did." 
 
 Calder pulled his mustache. Lord 
 Thrapston had briefly sketched the exact 
 opposite of his ideal of married life. 
 
 " The fact is," continued the old man, "the 
 boy's an uncommon handsome boy. She 
 can't resist that. No more can I ; never 
 could." 
 
 There chanced to be a mirror opposite 
 Calder, and he impartially considered him- 
 self. There was, he concluded, every pros- 
 pect of Miss Glyn resisting any engrossing 
 passion for him.
 
 THE LADY OF THE POOL 259 
 
 " It's very good of yon to have told me all 
 about it," he remarked, rising. " I'll think 
 it over." 
 
 " Yes, do. Of course, I admit she's given 
 you a perfectly good reason for breaking off 
 your engagement if you like. Mind that. 
 We don't feel aggrieved, Calder. Act as 
 you think best. We admit we're in the 
 wrong, but we must stand by what we've 
 done." 
 
 " I shouldn't like to give her any 
 pain " 
 
 " Pain ! Oh, dear me, no, my dear boy. 
 She won't fret. Make your mind easy about 
 that." 
 
 Calder felt a sudden impulse to disclose 
 to Lord Thrapston his secret opinion of him, 
 and he recollected, with a pang, that in the 
 course of so doing he would have to touch 
 on more than one characteristic shared by 
 the old man and Agatha. Where were his 
 visions of a quiet home in the country, of 
 freedom from the irksome duties of society, 
 of an obedient and devoted wife, surrounded 
 by children and flanked by jampots ? He 
 had once painted this picture for Agatha, 
 shortly after she had agreed to that arrange-
 
 260 COMEDIES OF COURTSHIP 
 
 ment which she declined to call a promise 
 of marriage ; and it occurred to him now 
 that she had allowed the subject to drop 
 without any expression of concurrence. He 
 took leave of Lord Thrapston and went for 
 a solitary walk. He wanted to think. But 
 the position of affairs was such that other 
 persons also felt the need of reflection, and 
 Calder had not been walking by the Row 
 very long before, lifting his eyes, he saw a 
 young man approaching. The young man 
 was not attired as he ought to have been : 
 he wore a light suit, a dissolute necktie, and 
 a soft wideawake crammed down low on his 
 head. He had obviously forsworn the vani- 
 ties of the world and was wearing the wil- 
 low. He came up to Calder and held out 
 his hand. 
 
 "Went worth," he said, "I left you rudely 
 the other day. I was doing you an injus- 
 tice. I have heard the truth from Mrs. 
 Blunt. You are free from all blame. We — 
 we are fellow-sufferers." 
 
 His tones were so mournful that Calder 
 shook his hand with warm sympathy, and 
 remarked, 
 
 " Pretty rough on us both, ain't it ? "
 
 THE LADY OF THE POOL 261 
 
 " For me," declared Cliarlie, " everything 
 is over. My trust in woman is destroyed ; 
 my pleasure in life is " 
 
 " "Well, I don't feel A 1 myself, old chap," 
 said Calder. 
 
 " I have written to — to her, to say good- 
 
 by." 
 
 " No, have you, though ? " 
 
 " "What else could I do ? "Wentworth, do 
 you suppose that, even if she was free, I 
 would think of her for another moment ? 
 Can there be love where there is no esteem, 
 no trust, no confidence ? " 
 
 " I was just thinking that when you came 
 up," said Calder. 
 
 " No, at whatever cost, I — every self-re- 
 specting man — must consider first of all 
 what he owes to his name, to his family, to 
 his — "Wentworth, to his unborn children." 
 
 Calder nodded. 
 
 " You, of course," pursued Charlie, " will 
 be guided by your own judgment. As to 
 that, the circumstances seal my lips." 
 
 " I don't like it, you know," said Calder. 
 
 " As regards you, she may or may not have 
 excuses. I don't know ; but she wilfully and 
 grossly deceived me. I have done with her."
 
 2G2 COMEDIES OF COURTSHIP 
 
 " Gad, I believe you're right, Merceron, 
 old chap! A chap ought to stand up for 
 himself, by Jove ! You'd never feel safe 
 with her, would you, by Jove ? " 
 
 " Good-by," said Charlie suddenly. " I 
 leave Padding-ton by the 4.15." 
 
 " Where are you off to? " 
 
 " Hell — I mean home," answered Charlie 
 
 Calder beat his stick against his leg. 
 
 " I can't stay here either," he said moodily 
 
 Charlie stretched out his hand again. 
 
 " Come with me," said he. 
 
 " Eh ? what ? " 
 
 " Come with me ; we'll forget her to- 
 gether." 
 
 Calder looked at him. 
 
 " Well, you are a good chap. Dashed if 1 
 don't. Yes, I will. We'll enjoy ourselves 
 like thunder. But I say, Merceron, I — I 
 ought to write to her, oughtn't I ? " 
 
 " I am just going to write myself." 
 
 " To — to say good-by, eh ? " 
 
 "Yes." 
 
 "I shall write and break it off." 
 
 " Come along. We'll go to your rooms 
 and get the thing done, and then catch the 
 train. My luggage is at the station now."
 
 THE LADY OF THE POOL 263 
 
 "It won't take me a minute to get mine." 
 
 " Wentworth, I'm glad to be rid of her." 
 
 " Ah — oh, weli — so am I," said Calder. 
 
 Late that evening the butler presented 
 Miss Agatha Glyn with two letters on a 
 salver. As her eye fell on the addresses, 
 she started. Her heart began to beat. She 
 sat and looked at the two momentous mis- 
 sives. 
 
 " Now which," she thought, " shall I read 
 first ? And what shall I do, if they are both 
 obstinate ? " 
 
 There was another contingency which 
 Miss Glyn did not contemplate. 
 
 After a long hesitation, she took up Char- 
 lie's letter, and opened it. It was very short, 
 and began abruptly without any words of 
 address : 
 
 " I have received your letter. Your excuses 
 make it worse. I could forgive everything 
 except deceit. I leave London to - day. 
 Good-by.— C. M." 
 
 " Deceit ! " cried Agatha. " How dare 
 he ? What a horrid boy ! " 
 
 She was walking up and down the room
 
 264 COMEDIES OF COURTSHIP 
 
 in a state of great indignation. She had 
 never been talked to like that in her life be- 
 fore. It was ungentlemanly, cruel, brutal. 
 She flung Charlie's letter angrily down on 
 the table. 
 
 " I am sure poor dear old Calder won't 
 treat me like that!" she exclaimed, taking 
 up his letter. 
 
 It ran thus : 
 
 " My dear Agatha : — I hope you will be- 
 lieve that I write this without any feeling of 
 anger towards you. My regard for you re- 
 mains very great, and I hope we shall always 
 be very good friends ; but, after long and 
 careful consideration, I have come to the 
 conclusion that the story Lord Thrapston 
 told me shows conclusively what I have 
 been fearing for some time past — namely, 
 that I have not been so lucky as to win a 
 real affection from you, and that we are not 
 likely to make one another happy. There- 
 fore, thanking you very much for your kind- 
 ness in the past, I think I had better restore 
 your liberty to you. I shall hear with very 
 great pleasure of your happiness. I leave 
 town to-day for a little while, in order that
 
 THE LADY OF THE POOL 265 
 
 you may not be exposed to the awkwardness 
 of meeting- me. 
 
 " Always your most sincerely, 
 
 " Calder Wentworth." 
 
 Agatha passed her hand across her brow ; 
 then she re-read Calder's letter, and then 
 Charlie's. Yes, there was not the least doubt 
 about it ! Both of the gentlemen had — well, 
 what they had done did not admit of being 
 put into tolerable words. With a little 
 shriek, Agatha flung herself on the sofa. 
 
 The door opened and Lord Thrapston 
 entered. 
 
 "Well, Aggy, what's the news? Still 
 bothered by your two young men ? Hullo ! 
 what's wrong ? " 
 
 " Head them ! " cried Agatha, with a gest- 
 ure towards the table. 
 
 " Eh ? Bead what ? Oh, I see." 
 
 He sat down at the table and put on his 
 glasses. Agatha turned her face towards 
 the wall ; for her also everything was over. 
 For a time no sound was audible save an 
 occasional crackle of the note-paper in Lord 
 Thrapston's shaking fingers. Then, to 
 Agatha's indescribable indignation, there
 
 266 COMEDIES OF COURTSHIP 
 
 came another sort of crackle — a dry, grating, 
 derisive chuckle — from that flinty-hearted 
 old man, her grandfather. 
 
 " Good, monstrous good, 'pon my life ! " 
 said he. 
 
 " You're laughing at me! " she cried, leap- 
 ing up. 
 
 " Well, my dear, I'm afraid I am." 
 
 " Oh, how cruel men are ! " 
 
 " H'm ! They're both men of spirit evi- 
 dently." 
 
 " Calder I can just understand. I — per- 
 haps I did treat Calder rather badly " 
 
 " Oh, you go so far as to admit that, do 
 you, Aggy ? " 
 
 " But Charlie ! Oh, to think that Charlie 
 should treat me like that ! " and she threw 
 herself on the sofa again. 
 
 Lord Thrapston sat quite still. Presently 
 Agatha rose, came to the table, and took up 
 her two letters. She looked at them both ; 
 and the old man, seeming to notice nothing, 
 yet kept his eye on her. 
 
 " I shall destroy these things," said she ; 
 and she tore Calder's letter into tiny frag- 
 ments, and flung them on the fire. Charlie's 
 she crumpled up and held in her hand.
 
 THE LADY OF THE POOL 267 
 
 "Good-night, grandpapa," she said wear- 
 ily, and kissed him. 
 
 " Good-night, my dear," he answered. 
 
 And, whatever she did when she went up- 
 stairs, Lord Thrapston was in a position to 
 swear that Charlie's letter was not destroyed 
 in the drawing-room.
 
 CHAPTER X 
 
 THE INCAENATION OF LADY AGATHA 
 
 " She's such a dear good girl, Mr. Went- 
 worth," said Lady Merceron. "She's the 
 greatest comfort I have." 
 
 It was after luncheon at Langbury Court. 
 Lady Merceron and Calder sat on the lawn ; 
 Mrs. Marland and Millie Bushell were walk- 
 ing up and down ; Charlie was lying in a 
 hammock. A week had passed since the two 
 young men had startled Lady Merceron by 
 their unexpected arrival, and since then the 
 good lady had been doing her best to enter- 
 tain them ; for, as she could not help notic- 
 ing, they seemed a little dull. It was a 
 great change from the whirl of London to 
 the deep placidity of the Court, and Lady 
 Merceron could not quite understand why 
 Charlie had tired so soon of his excursion, 
 or whj r his friend persisted with so much 
 fervor that anything was better than Lon-
 
 THE LADY OF THE POOL 269 
 
 don, and the Court was the most charming 
 place he had ever seen. Of the two Charlie 
 seemed to feel the ennui much the more se- 
 verely. Yet, while Mr. Wentworth spoke of 
 returning to town in a few weeks, Charlie 
 asseverated that he had paid his last visit 
 to that revolting and disappointing place. 
 Lady Merceron wished she had Uncle Van 
 by her side to explain these puzzling incon- 
 sistencies. However, there was a bright 
 side to the affair : the presence of the young 
 men was a godsend to poor Millie, who, by 
 reason of the depressed state of agricult- 
 ure, had been obliged this year to go with- 
 out her usual six weeks of London in the 
 season. 
 
 " And she never grumbles about it," said 
 Lady Merceron admiringly. " She looks 
 after her district, and takes a ride, and plays 
 tennis, when she can get a game, poor girl, 
 and is always cheerful and happy. She'd be 
 a treasure of a wife to any man." 
 
 "You'd better persuade Charlie of that, 
 Lady Merceron." 
 
 " Oh, Charlie never thinks of such a thing 
 as marrying. He thinks of nothing but his 
 antiquities "
 
 270 COMEDIES OF COURTSHIP 
 
 " Doesn't he ? " asked Calcler, with appar- 
 ent sympathy and a covert sad amusement. 
 
 " Mr. Wentworth," said Mrs. Marland, ap- 
 proaching, " I believe it's actually a fact that 
 you've been here a week and have never yet 
 been to the Pool." 
 
 At this fateful word, Calder looked embar- 
 rassed, Charlie raised his head from the 
 hammock, and Millie glanced involuntarily 
 towards him. 
 
 " We must take you," pursued Mrs. Mar- 
 land, " this very evening. You'll come, 
 Miss Bushell ? " 
 
 " I don't think I care very much about the 
 Pool," said Millie. 
 
 " We won't let Mr. Merceron take you in 
 his canoe this time." 
 
 Charlie rolled out of the hammock and 
 came up to them. 
 
 " You must take us to the Pool. I don't 
 believe you've been there since you came 
 back. Poor Agatha will quite " 
 
 " Agatha ? " exclaimed Calder. 
 
 " Agatha Merceron, you know. Why, 
 haven't you heard ? " 
 
 "Oh, ah ! Yes, of course. I beg your 
 pardon."
 
 THE LADY OF THE POOL 271 
 
 " I hate that beastly Pool," said Charlie. 
 
 " How can you ? " smiled Mrs. Marland. 
 " You used to spend hours there every even- 
 ing." 
 
 Charlie glanced uneasily at Calder, who 
 turned very red. 
 
 " Times have changed, have they ? " Mrs. 
 Marland asked archly. " You've got tired of 
 looking in vain for Agatha ? " 
 
 " Oh, all right," said Charlie crossly, 
 " we'll go after tea." 
 
 Anything seemed better than this rallying 
 mood of Mrs. Marland's. 
 
 Presently the two young men went off to- 
 gether to play a game at billiards ; but after 
 half a dozen strokes Charlie plumped down 
 in a chair. 
 
 " I say, Calder, old chap, how do you 
 feel ? " he asked. 
 
 Calder licked his cigar meditatively. 
 
 " Better," said he at last. 
 
 "Oh!" 
 
 "And you?" 
 
 " Worse — worse every day. I can't stand 
 it, old chap. I shall go back." 
 
 "What, to her?" 
 
 "Yes."
 
 272 COMEDIES OF COURTSHIP 
 
 " That's hardly sticking- to our bargain, 
 you know." 
 
 " But, hang it, what's the good of our both 
 cutting her ? " 
 
 " Oh, I thought you did it because you 
 were disgusted with her. That was my 
 reason." 
 
 " So it was mine, but " 
 
 " Probably she's got some other fellow by 
 now," observed Calder calmly. 
 
 "The devil!" cried Charlie. "What 
 makes you think so ? " 
 
 " Oh, nothing. I know her way, you see." 
 
 "You think she's that sort of girl? 
 Good heavens ! " 
 
 "Well, if she wasn't, I'd like to know 
 where you'd be, my friend. I shouldn't 
 have the honor of your acquaintance." 
 
 Charlie ignored this point. 
 
 " And yet you wanted to marry her ? " 
 
 " I dare say I was an ass — like better men 
 before me — and — er — since me." 
 
 " Hang it ! " cried Charlie. " I'm sick of 
 the whole thing. I'm sick of life. I'm sick 
 of all the nonsense of it. For two straws 
 I'd have done with it, and marry Millie 
 Bushell."
 
 THE LADY OF THE POOL 273 
 
 " What ! Look here, Charlie " 
 
 Calder left his sentence unfinished. 
 
 "Well? "said Charlie. 
 
 " If," said Calder slowly, " there are any 
 girls, either down here or in London, whom 
 you're quite sure you'll never want to marry, 
 I should like to be introduced to one of 'em, 
 Charlie, if you've no objections." 
 
 " What do you mean ? " 
 
 " Why, in fact, during- this last week, Char- 
 lie, I have come to have a great esteem for 
 Miss Bushell. There's about her a some- 
 thing — a solidity " 
 
 " She can't help that, poor girl." 
 
 " A solidity of mind," said Calder, a little 
 stiffly. 
 
 " Oh, I beg pardon. But I say, Calder, 
 what are you driving at ? " 
 
 " Charlie ! Charlie ! " sounded from out- 
 side. " Tea's ready." 
 
 Calder rose and took Charlie by the arm. 
 
 " Should I be safe," he asked solemnly, 
 " in allowing myself to fall in love with 
 Miss Bushell, or are you likely to step in 
 again ? " 
 
 " You mean it ? Honor bright, Calder ? " 
 
 "Yes." 
 
 18
 
 274 COMEDIES OF COURTSHIP 
 
 "Where's Bradshaw? By Jove, where's 
 Bradshaw ? " 
 
 " Bradshaw ? What the devil has Brad- 
 shaw ? " 
 
 " Why, a train, man — a train to town." 
 
 " I don't want to go to town, bless the 
 man " 
 
 " You ! No, but I do. To town, Calder— 
 to Agatha, you old fool." 
 
 " Oh, that's your lay ? " 
 
 "Yes, of course. I couldn't go back on 
 you, but if you're off " 
 
 "Charlie, old fellow, think again." 
 
 " Go to the deuce ! Where's that ? " 
 
 "Charlie, Charlie! Tea!" 
 
 " Hang tea ! " he cried ; but Calder 
 dragged him off, telling him that to-morrow 
 would do for Bradshaw. 
 
 At tea Charlie's spirits were very much 
 better, and it was observed that Calder 
 Wentworth paid marked attention to Millie 
 Bushell, so that, when they started for the 
 Pool, Millie was prevailed upon to be one of 
 the party, on the understanding that Mr. 
 Wentworth would take care of her. This 
 time the expedition went off more quietly 
 than it had previously, but at the last mo-
 
 THE LADY OF THE POOL 275 
 
 ment the ladies declared that they would be 
 late for dinner if they waited till it was time 
 for Agatha Merceron to come. 
 
 " Oh, nonsense ! " said Calder. " Come 
 over to the temple, Miss Bushell. I won't 
 upset the canoe." 
 
 " Well, if you insist," said Millie. 
 
 Then Mrs. Marland remarked in the quiet- 
 est voice in the world — 
 
 " There's some one in the temple." 
 
 "What?" cried Millie. 
 
 " Eh ? " exclaimed Calder. 
 
 " Nonsense ! " said Charlie. 
 
 "I saw a face at the window," insisted 
 Mrs. Marland. 
 
 " Oh, Mrs. Marland ! Was it very awful ? " 
 
 " Not at all, Millie — very pretty," and she 
 gave Charlie a look full of meaning. 
 
 " Look, look ! " cried Millie in strong agi- 
 tation. 
 
 And, as they looked, a slim figure in white 
 came quietly out of the temple, a smile — and, 
 alas ! no vestige of a blush — on her face, 
 walked composedly down the steps, and, 
 standing on the lowest one, thence — did not 
 throw herself into the water — but called, in 
 the most natural voice in the world,
 
 276 COMEDIES OF COURTSHIP 
 
 " Which of you is coming to fetch me ? " 
 
 Charlie looked at Calder. Calder said, 
 
 " I think you'd better put her across, old 
 man. And — er — we might as well walk 
 on." 
 
 They turned away, Millie's eyes wide in 
 surprise, Mrs. Marland smiling the smile of 
 triumphant sagacity. 
 
 " I was coming to you to-morrow," cried 
 Charlie the moment his canoe bumped 
 against the steps. 
 
 " What do you mean, sir, by staying away 
 a whole week ? How could you? " 
 
 " I don't know," said Charlie. " You see, 
 I couldn't come till Calder " 
 
 " Oh, what about Calder ? " 
 
 " He's all right." 
 
 " "What ? Miss — the girl you upset out of 
 the canoe ? " 
 
 " I think so," said Charlie. 
 
 " Ah, well ! " said Agatha. " But how very 
 curious ! " Then she smiled at Charlie, and 
 asked, 
 
 " But what love can there be, Mr. Merce- 
 ron, where there is deceit ? " 
 
 Charlie took no notice at all of this ques- 
 tion.
 
 THE LADY OF TIIE POOL 277 
 
 "Do you mind Calder going?" he whis- 
 pered. 
 
 " Well, not much," said Miss Glyn. 
 
 Thus it was that the barony of Warmley 
 returned to the house of Merceron, and the 
 portrait of the wicked lord came to hang 
 once more in the dining-room. So the cur- 
 tain falls on the comedy ; and what hap- 
 pened afterwards behind the scenes, whether 
 another comedy, or a tragedy, or a mixed 
 half-and-half sort of entertainment, now 
 grave, now gay, sometimes perhaps delight- 
 ful, and again of tempered charm — why, as 
 to all this, what reck the spectators who are 
 crowding out of the theatre and home to 
 bed? 
 
 But it seems as if, in spite of certain 
 drawbacks in Agatha Merceron's character, 
 nothing very dreadful can have happened, 
 because Mr. and Mrs. Wentworth, who are 
 very particular folk, went to stay at the 
 Court the other day, and their only com- 
 plaint was that Charlie and his bride were 
 always at the Pool ! 
 
 And, for his own part, if he may be al- 
 lowed a word (which some people say he 
 ought not to be) here, just at the end, the
 
 278 COMEDIES OF COURTSHIP 
 
 writer begs to say that lie once knew Agatha, 
 and — he would have taken the risks. How- 
 ever, a lady to whom he has shown this his- 
 tory differs entirely from him, and thinks 
 that no sensible man would have married 
 her. But, then, that is not the question.
 
 THE CURATE OF POLTONS
 
 THE CURATE OF POLTONS 
 
 I MUST confess at once that at first, at 
 least, I very much admired the curate. 
 I am not referring to my admiration of his 
 fine figure — six feet high and straight as an 
 arrow — nor of his handsome, open, ingenu- 
 ous countenance, or his candid blue eye, or 
 his thick curly hair. No ; what won my 
 heart from an early period of my visit to 
 my cousins, the Poltons of Poltons Park, 
 was the fervent, undisguised, unashamed, 
 confident, and altogether matter-of-course 
 manner in which he made love to Miss 
 Beatrice Queenborough, only daughter and 
 heiress of the wealthy shipowner Sir Wag- 
 staff Queenborough, Bart., and Eleanor his 
 wife. It was purely the manner of the cu- 
 rate's advances that took my fancy : in the 
 mere fact of them there was nothing re- 
 markable. For all the men in the house 
 (and a good many outside) made covert,
 
 282 COMEDIES OF COURTSHIP 
 
 stealthy, and indirect steps in the same di- 
 rection ; for Trix (as her friends called her) 
 was, if not wise, at least pretty and witty, 
 displaying- to the material eye a charming- 
 figure, and to the mental a delicate heart- 
 lessness — both attributes which challenge a 
 self-respecting man's best efforts. But then 
 came the fatal obstacle. From heiresses in 
 reason a gentleman need neither shrink nor 
 let himself be driven ; but when it comes to 
 something like twenty thousand a year — 
 the reported amount of Trix's dot — he dis- 
 trusts his own motives almost as much as 
 the lady's relatives distrust them for him. 
 We all felt this — Stanton, Bippleby, and I ; 
 and, although I will not swear that we 
 spoke no tender words and gave no mean- 
 ing glances, yet we reduced such conces- 
 sions to natural weakness to a minimum, 
 not only when Lady Queenborough was by, 
 but at all times. To say truth, we had no 
 desire to see our scalps affixed to Miss 
 Trix's pretty belt, nor to have our hearts 
 broken (like that of the young man in the 
 poem) before she went to Homburg in the 
 autumn. 
 With the curate it was otherwise. He —
 
 TEE CURATE OF POLTONS 283 
 
 Jack Ives, by the way, was his name — ap- 
 peared to rush, not only upon his fate, but 
 in the face of all possibility and of Lady 
 Queenborough. My cousin and hostess, 
 Dora Polton, was very much distressed 
 about him. She said that he was such a 
 nice young fellow, and that it was a great 
 pity to see him preparing such unhappiness 
 for himself. Nay, I happen to know that 
 she spoke very seriously to Trix, pointing 
 out the wickedness of trifling with him ; 
 whereupon Trix, who maintained a bowing 
 acquaintance with her conscience, avoided 
 him for a whole afternoon and endangered 
 all Algy Stanton's prudent resolutions by 
 taking him out in the Canadian canoe. This 
 demonstration in no way perturbed the cu- 
 rate. He observed that, as there was noth- 
 ing better to do, we might as well play bill- 
 iards, and proceeded to defeat me in three 
 games of a hundred up (no, it is quite im- 
 material whether we played for anything or 
 not), after which he told Dora that the vicar 
 was taking the evening service — it hap- 
 pened to be the day when there was one at 
 the parish church — a piece of information 
 only relevant in so far as it suggested that
 
 284 COMEDIES OF COURTSHIP 
 
 Mr. Ives could accept an invitation to din- 
 ner if one were proffered to him. Dora, 
 very weakly, rose to the bait ; Jack Ives, 
 airily remarking that there was no use in 
 ceremony among- friends, seized the place 
 next to Trix at dinner (her mother was just 
 opposite) and walked on the terrace after 
 dinner with her in the moonlight. When 
 the ladies retired he came into the smoking- 
 room, drank a whiskey-and-soda, said that 
 Miss Queenborough was really a very charm- 
 ing companion, and apologized for leaving 
 us early on the ground that his sermon was 
 still unwritten. My good cousin, the squire, 
 suggested rather grimly that a discourse on 
 the vanity of human wishes might be ap- 
 propriate. 
 
 "I shall preach," said Mr. Ives thought- 
 fully, " on the opportunities of wealth." 
 
 This resolution he carried out on the next 
 day but one, that being a Sunday. I had 
 the pleasure of sitting next to Miss Trix, 
 and I watched her with some interest as 
 Mr. Ives developed his theme. I will not 
 try to reproduce the sermon, which would 
 have seemed by no means a bad one, had 
 any of our party been able to ignore the
 
 THE CURATE OF POLTONS 2S5 
 
 personal application which we read into it : 
 for its main burden was no other than this — 
 that wealth should be used by those who 
 were fortunate enough to possess it (here 
 Trix looked down and fidgeted with her 
 prayer-book) as a means of promoting 
 greater union between themselves and the 
 less richly endowed, and not — as, alas, had 
 too often been the case — as though it were 
 a new barrier set up between them and 
 their fellow - creatures. (Here Miss Trix 
 blushed slightly, and had recourse to her 
 smelling-bottle.) "You," said the curate, 
 waxing rhetorical as he addressed an imag- 
 inary, but bloated, capitalist, " have no 
 more right to your money than I have. It 
 is intrusted to you to be shared with me." 
 At this point I heard Lady Queenborough 
 sniff, and Algy Stanton snigger. I stole a 
 glance at Trix and detected a slight waver 
 in the admirable lines of her mouth. 
 
 " A very good sermon, didn't you think ? " 
 I said to her, as we walked home. 
 
 " Oh, very," she replied demurely. 
 
 "Ah, if we followed all we heard in 
 church ! " I sighed. 
 
 Miss Trix walked in silence for a few
 
 286 COMEDIES OF COURTSHIP 
 
 yards. By dint of never becoming anything" 
 else, we had become very good friends ; and 
 presently she remarked, quite confidentially, 
 
 " He's very silly, isn't he ? " 
 
 "Then you ought to snub him," said I, 
 severely. 
 
 " So I do — sometimes. He's rather amus- 
 ing, though." 
 
 " Of course, if you're prepared to make 
 the sacrifice involved " 
 
 " Oh, what nonsense ! " 
 
 " Then you've no business to amuse your- 
 self with him." 
 
 " Dear, dear ! how moral you are ! " said 
 Trix. 
 
 The next development in the situation 
 was this. My cousin Dora received a letter 
 from the Marquis of Newhaven, with whom 
 she was acquainted, praying her to allow 
 him to run down to Pol tons for a few days : 
 he reminded her that she had once given 
 him a general invitation : if it would not be 
 inconvenient — and so forth. The meaning 
 of this communication did not, of course, 
 escape my cousin, who had witnessed the 
 writer's attentions to Trix in the preceding 
 season, nor did it escape the rest of us (who
 
 TIIE CURATE OF POLTONS 2S7 
 
 had talked over the said attentions at the 
 club) when she told us about it, and an- 
 nounced that Lord Newhaven would arrive 
 in the middle of next day. Trix affected 
 dense unconsciousness ; her mother allowed 
 herself a mysterious smile — which, however, 
 speedily vanished when the curate (he was 
 taking- lunch with us) observed in a cheer- 
 ful tone, 
 
 " Newhaven ! oh, I remember the chap at 
 the House — ploughed twice in Smalls — 
 stumpy fellow, isn't he ? Not a bad chap, 
 though, you know, barring his looks. I'm 
 glad he's coming." 
 
 " You won't be soon, young man," Lady 
 Queenborough's angry eye seemed to say. 
 
 " I remember him," pursued Jack, " aw- 
 fully smitten with a tobacconist's daughter 
 in the Corn — oh, it's all right, Lady Queen- 
 borough — she wouldn't look at him." 
 
 This quasi-apology was called forth by 
 the fact of Lady Queenborough pushing 
 back her chair and making for the door. It 
 did not at all appease her to hear of the 
 scorn of the tobacconist's daughter. She 
 glared sternly at Jack, and disappeared. 
 He turned to Trix and reminded her — with-
 
 288 COMEDIES OF COURTSHIP 
 
 out diffidence and coram populo, as his habit 
 was, that she had promised him a stroll in 
 the west wood. 
 
 What happened on that stroll I do not 
 know ; but meeting Miss Trix on the stairs 
 later in the afternoon, I ventured to remark, 
 
 " I hope you broke it to him gently, Miss 
 Queenborough ? " 
 
 "I don't know what you mean," replied 
 Trix, haughtily. 
 
 " You were out nearly two hours," said I. 
 
 " Were we?" asked Trix with a start. 
 " Good gracious ! Where was mamma, Mr. 
 Wynne ? " 
 
 " On the lawn — watch in hand." 
 
 Miss Trix went slowly upstairs, and there 
 is not the least doubt that something seri- 
 ous passed between her and her mother, for 
 both of them were in the most atrocious of 
 humors that evening ; fortunately the cu- 
 rate was not there. He had a Bible class. 
 
 The next day Lord Newhaven arrived. I 
 found him on the lawn when I strolled up, 
 after a spell of letter-writing, about four 
 o'clock. Lawn-tennis was the order of the 
 day, and we were all in flannels. 
 
 " Oh, here's Mark," cried Dora, seeing me.
 
 THE CURATE OE POLTONS 289 
 
 " Now, Mark, you and Mr. Ives had better 
 play against Trix and Lord Newhaven. 
 That'll make a very good set." 
 
 " No, no, Mrs. Polton," said Jack Ives. 
 " They wouldn't have a chance. Look here, 
 I'll play with Miss Queenborough against 
 Lord Newhaven and Wynne." 
 
 Newhaven — whose appearance, by the 
 way, though hardly distinguished, was not 
 quite so unornamental as the curate had led 
 us to expect — looked slightly displeased, 
 but Jack gave him no time for remonstrance. 
 He whisked Trix off, and began to serve all 
 in a moment. I had a vision of Lady Queen- 
 borough approaching from the house with 
 face aghast. The set went on ; and, owing 
 entirely to Newhaven's absurd chivalry in 
 sending all the balls to Jack Ives instead of 
 following the well-known maxim to " pound 
 away at the lady," they beat us. Jack wiped 
 his brow, strolled up to the tea-table with 
 Trix, and remarked in exultant tones : 
 
 " We make a perfect couple, Miss Queen- 
 borough ; we ought never to be separated." 
 
 Dora did not ask the curate to dinner that 
 night, but he dropped in about nine o'clock 
 to ask her opinion as to the hymns on Sun- 
 19
 
 290 COMEDIES OF COURTSHIP 
 
 day ; and finding- Miss Trix and Newhaven 
 in the small drawing-room he sat down and 
 talked to them. This was too much for 
 Trix ; she had treated him very kindly and 
 had allowed him to amuse her ; but it was 
 impossible to put up with presumption of 
 that kind. Difficult as it was to discourage 
 Mr. Ives, she did it, and he went away with 
 a disconsolate, puzzled expression. At the 
 last moment, however, Trix so far relented 
 as to express a hope that he was coming to 
 tennis to-morrow, at which he brightened 
 up a little. I do not wish to be uncharita- 
 ble — least of all to a charming young lady — 
 but my opinion is that Miss Trix did not 
 wish to set the curate altogether adrift. I 
 think, however, that Lady Queenborough 
 must have spoken again, for when Jack did 
 come to tennis, Trix treated him with the 
 most freezing civility and a hardly disguised 
 disdain, and devoted herself to Lord New- 
 haven with as much assiduity as her mother 
 could wish. We men, over our pipes, ex- 
 pressed the opinion that Jack Ives's little 
 hour of sunshine was passed, and that noth- 
 ing was left to us but to look on at the pros- 
 j>erous uneventful course of Lord Newhaven's
 
 THE CURATE OF POL TONS 291 
 
 wooing 1 . Trix had had her fun (so Algy 
 Stanton bluntly phrased it) and would now 
 settle down to business. 
 
 " I believe, though," he added, " that she 
 likes the curate a bit, you know." 
 
 During- the whole of the next day — Wed- 
 nesday — Jack Ives kept away ; he had, ap- 
 parently, accepted the inevitable, and was 
 healing his wounded heart by a strict atten- 
 tion to his parochial duties. Newhaven re- 
 marked on his absence with an air of relief ; 
 and Miss Trix treated it as a matter of no 
 importance ; Lady Queenborough was all 
 smiles ; and Dora Polton restricted herself 
 to exclaiming, as I sat by her at tea, in a low 
 tone and a propos of nothing in particular, 
 " Oh, well— poor Mr. Ives ! " 
 
 But on Thursday there occurred an event, 
 the significance of which passed at the mo- 
 ment unperceived, but which had, in fact, 
 most important results. This was no other 
 than the arrival of little Mrs. Wentworth, an 
 intimate friend of Dora's. Mrs. Wentworth 
 had been left a widow early in life ; she pos- 
 sessed a comfortable competence ; she was 
 not handsome, but she was vivacious, amus- 
 ing, and, above all, sympathetic. She sym-
 
 292 COMEDIES OF COURTSHIP 
 
 pathized at once with Lady Queenborough 
 in her maternal anxieties, with Trix on her 
 charming 1 romance, with Newhaven on his 
 sweet devotedness, with the rest of us in 
 our obvious desolation — and, after a confi- 
 dential chat with Dora, she sympathized 
 most strongly with poor Mr. Ives on his 
 unfortunate attachment. Nothing would 
 satisfy her, so Dora told me, except the op- 
 portunity of plying Mr. Ives with her sooth- 
 ing balm ; and Dora was about to sit down 
 and write him a note, when he strolled in 
 through the drawing-room window, and an- 
 nounced that his cook's mother was ill, and 
 that he should be very much obliged if Mrs. 
 Polton would give him some dinner that 
 evening. Trix and Newhaven happened to 
 enter by the door at the same moment, and 
 Jack darted up to them, and shook hands 
 with the greatest effusion. He had evi- 
 dently buried all unkindness — and with it, 
 we hoped, his mistaken folly. However 
 that might be, he made no effort to engross 
 Trix, but took his seat most docilely by his 
 hostess — and she, of course, introduced him 
 to Mrs. Wentworth. His behavior, was, in 
 fact, so exemplary, that even Lady Queen-
 
 THE CURATE OF POLTONS 293 
 
 borough relaxed her severity, and conde- 
 scended to cross-examine him on the morals 
 and manners of the old women of the par- 
 ish. " Oh, the Vicar looks after them," said 
 Jack; and he turned to Mrs. Wentworth 
 again. 
 
 There can be no doubt that Mrs. Went- 
 worth had a remarkable power of sympathy. 
 I took her into dinner, and she was deep in 
 the subject of my " noble and inspiring art," 
 before the soup was off the table. Indeed, 
 I'm sure that my life's ambitions would 
 have been an open book to her by the time 
 that the joint arrived, had not Jack Ives, 
 who was sitting on the lady's other side, cut 
 into the conversation just as Mrs. Wentworth 
 was comparing my early struggles with 
 those of Mr. Carlyle. After this interven- 
 tion of Jack's I had not a chance. I ate my 
 dinner without the sauce of sympathy, sub- 
 stituting for it a certain amusement which I 
 derived from studying the face of Miss Trix 
 Queenborough, who was placed on the op- 
 posite side of the table. And if Trix did 
 look now and again at Mrs. Wentworth and 
 Jack Ives, I cannot say that her conduct 
 was unnatural. To tell the truth, Jack was
 
 294 COMEDIES OF COURTSHIP 
 
 so obviously delighted with his new friend 
 that it was quite pleasant — and, as I say, 
 under the circumstances, rather amusing — 
 to watch them. We felt that the Squire was 
 justified in having a hit at Jack when Jack 
 said, in the smoking-room, that he found 
 himself rather at a loss for a subject for his 
 next sermon. 
 
 " What do you say," suggested my cousin, 
 puffing at his pipe, " to taking constancy as 
 your text ? " 
 
 Jack considered the idea for a moment, 
 but then he shook his head. 
 
 " No. I think," he said, reflectively, " that 
 I shall preach on the power of sympathy." 
 
 That sermon afforded me — I must confess 
 it, at the risk of seeming frivolous — very 
 great entertainment. Again I secured a 
 place by Miss Trix — on her left, Newhaven 
 being on her right, and her face was worth 
 study when Jack Ives gave us a most elo- 
 quent description of the wonderful gift in 
 question. It was, he said, the essence and 
 the crown of true womanliness, and it 
 showed itself — well, to put it quite plainly, it 
 showed itself, according to Jack Ives, in ex- 
 actly that sort of manner and bearing which
 
 THE CURATE OF POLTONS 295 
 
 so honorably and gracefully distinguished 
 Mrs. "Wentworth. The lady was not, of 
 course, named, but she was clearly indicated. 
 " Your gift, your precious gift," cried the 
 curate, apostrophizing the impersonation of 
 sympathy, " is given to you, not for your 
 profit, but for mine. It is yours, but it is a 
 trust to be used for me. It is yours, in fact, 
 to share with me." At this climax, which 
 must have struck upon her ear with a certain 
 familiarity, Miss Trix Queenborough, not- 
 withstanding the place and occasion, tossed 
 her pretty head and whispered to me, " What 
 horrid stuff!" 
 
 In the ensuing week Jack Ives was our 
 constant companion ; the continued illness 
 of his servant's mother left him stranded, 
 and Dora's kind heart at once offered him 
 the hospitality of her roof. For my part I 
 was glad, for the little drama which now be- 
 gan was not without its interest. It was a 
 pleasant change to see Jack genially polite 
 to Trix Queenborough, but quite indifferent 
 to her presence or absence, and content to 
 allow her to take Newhaven for her partner 
 at tennis as often as she pleased. He him- 
 self was often an absentee from our games.
 
 296 COMEDIES OF COURTSHIP 
 
 Mrs. Wentworth did not play, and Jack would 
 sit under the trees with her, or take her out 
 in the canoe. What Trix thought I did not 
 know, but it is a fact that she treated poor 
 Newhaven like dirt beneath her feet, and 
 that Lady Queenborough's face began to 
 lose its transiently pleasant expression. I 
 had a vague idea that a retribution was 
 working itself out, and disposed myself to 
 see the process with all the complacency in- 
 duced by the spectacle of others receiving 
 punishment for their sins. 
 
 A little scene which occurred after lunch 
 one day was significant. I was sitting on 
 the terrace, ready booted and breeched, 
 waiting for my horse to be brought round. 
 Trix came out and sat down by me. 
 
 " "W here's Newhaven ? " I asked. 
 
 " Oh, I don't always want Lord New- 
 haven," she exclaimed petulantly ; " I sent 
 him off for a walk — I'm going out in the 
 Canadian canoe with Mr. Ives." 
 
 " Oh, you are, are you ? " said I smiling. 
 As I spoke, Jack Ives ran up to us. 
 
 " I say, Miss Queenborough," he cried, 
 "I've just got your message saying you'd 
 let me take you on the lake."
 
 THE CURATE OF POLTONS 297 
 
 " Is it a great bore ? " asked Trix, with a 
 glance — a glance that meant mischief. 
 
 "I should like it awfully, of course," said 
 Jack ; " but the fact is I've promised to take 
 Mrs. Wentworth — before I got your message, 
 you know." 
 
 Trix drew herself up. 
 
 "Of course, if Mrs. Wentworth "—she 
 began. 
 
 " I'm very sorry," said Jack. 
 
 Then Miss Queenborough, forgetting — 
 as I hope — or choosing to disregard my 
 presence, leant forward and asked in her 
 most coaxing tones, 
 
 " Don't you ever forget a promise, Mr. 
 Ives?" 
 
 Jack looked at her. I suppose her dainty 
 prettiness struck him afresh, for he wavered 
 and hesitated. 
 
 " She's gone upstairs," pursued the tempt- 
 er, " and we shall be safe away before she 
 comes down again." 
 
 Jack shuffled with one foot on the gravel. 
 
 " I tell you what," he said. " I'll ask her 
 if she minds me taking you for a little while 
 before I " 
 
 I believe he really thought that he had
 
 298 COMEDIES OF COURTSHIP 
 
 hit upon a compromise satisfactory to all 
 parties. If so, lie was speedily undeceived. 
 Trix flushed red and answered angrily, 
 
 " Pray don't trouble. I don't want to go." 
 
 " Perhaps afterwards you might — " sug- 
 gested the curate, but now rather timidly. 
 
 "I'm going out with Lord Newhaven," 
 said she. And she added in an access of 
 uncontrollable annoyance, " Go, please go. 
 I — I don't want you." 
 
 Jack sheered off, with a look of puzzled 
 shamefacedness. He disappeared into the 
 house. Nothing passed between Miss Trix 
 and myself. A moment later Newhaven 
 came out. 
 
 " Why, Miss Queenborough," said he, in 
 apparent surprise, " Ives is going with Mrs. 
 Wentworth in the canoe ! " 
 
 In an instant I saw what she had done. 
 In rash presumption she had told Newhaven 
 that she was going with the curate — and 
 now the curate had refused to take her — and 
 Ives had met him in search of Mrs. Went- 
 worth. What could she do ? Well, she 
 rose — or fell — to the occasion. In the cold- 
 est of voices she said, 
 
 "I thought you'd gone for your walk."
 
 THE CURATE OF POLTONS 299 
 
 " I was just starting 1 ," he answered apolo- 
 getically, " when I met Ives. But, as you 
 
 weren't going- with him " He paused, 
 
 an inquiring look in his eyes. He was evi- 
 dently asking himself why she had not gone 
 with the curate. 
 
 " I'd rather be left alone, if you don't 
 mind," said she. And then, flushing red 
 again, she added. " I changed my mind and 
 refused to go with Mr. Ives. So he went off 
 to get Mrs. Wentworth instead." 
 
 I started. Newhaven looked at her for an 
 instant, and then turned on his heel. She 
 turned to me, quick as lightning, and with 
 her face all aflame, 
 
 " If you tell, I'll never speak to you again," 
 she whispered. 
 
 After this there was silence for some min- 
 utes. 
 
 " Well ? " she said, without looking at me. 
 
 " I have no remark to offer, Miss Queen- 
 borough," I returned. 
 
 " I suppose that was a lie, wasn't it ? " she 
 asked, defiantly. 
 
 " It's not my business to say what it was," 
 was my discreet answer. 
 
 "I know what you're thinking."
 
 300 COMEDIES OF COURTSHIP 
 
 " I was thinking-," said I, " which I would 
 rather be — the man you will marry, or the 
 man you would like " 
 
 " How dare you ? It's not true. Oh, Mr. 
 Wynne, indeed it's not true ! " 
 
 Whether it were true or not I did not 
 know. But if it had been, Miss Trix Queen- 
 borough might have been expected to act 
 very much in the way in which she pro- 
 ceeded to act : that is to say, to be extrava- 
 gantly attentive to Lord Newhaven when 
 Jack Ives was present, and markedly neg- 
 lectful of him in the curate's absence. It 
 also fitted in very well with the theory which 
 I had ventured to hint, that her bearing 
 towards Mrs. Wentworth was distinguished 
 by a stately civility, and her remarks about 
 that lady by a superfluity of laudation ; for 
 if these be not two distinguishing marks of 
 rivalry in the well-bred, I must go back to 
 my favorite books and learn from them — 
 more folly. And if Trix's manners were all 
 that they should be, praise no less high 
 must be accorded to Mrs. Wentworth's ; she 
 attained an altitude of admirable uncon- 
 sciousness, and conducted her flirtation (the 
 poverty of language forces me to the word,
 
 THE CURATE OF POLTONS 301 
 
 but it is over flippant) with the curate in a 
 staid, quasi-maternal way. She called him 
 a delightful boy, and said that she was in- 
 tensely interested in all his aims and hopes. 
 
 " What does she want ? " I asked Dora, de- 
 spairingly. " She can't want to marry him." 
 I was referring to Trix Queenborough, not 
 to Mrs. Wentworth. 
 
 " Good gracious, no ! " answered Dora, ir- 
 ritably. "It's simple jealousy. She won't 
 let the poor boy alone till he's in love with 
 her again. It's a horrible shame ! " 
 
 " Oh, well, he has great recuperative 
 power," said I. 
 
 "She'd better be careful, though. It's a 
 very dangerous game. How do you suppose 
 Lord Newhaven likes it ? " 
 
 Accident gave me that very day a hint how 
 little Lord Newhaven liked it, and a glimpse 
 of the risk Miss Trix was running. Enter- 
 ing the library suddenly, I heard New- 
 haven's voice raised above his ordinary 
 tones. 
 
 " I won't stand it," he was declaring. " I 
 never know how she'll treat me from one 
 minute to the next." 
 
 My entrance, of course, stopped the con-
 
 302 COMEDIES OF COURTSHIP 
 
 versation very abruptly. Newhaven had 
 come to a stand in the middle of the room, 
 and Lady Queenborough sat on the sofa, a 
 formidable frown on her brow. Withdraw- 
 ing myself as rapidly as possible, I argued 
 the probability of a severe lecture for Miss 
 Trix, ending in a command to try her noble 
 suitor's patience no longer. I hope all this 
 happened, for I, not seeing why Mrs. Went- 
 worth should monopolize the grace of sym- 
 pathy, took the liberty of extending mine to 
 Newhaven. He was certainly in love with 
 Trix, not with her money, and the treatment 
 he underwent must have been as trying to 
 his feelings as it was galling to his pride. 
 
 My sympathy was not premature, for Miss 
 Trix's fascinations, which were indubitably 
 great, began to have their effect. The scene 
 about the canoe was re-enacted, but with a 
 different denouement. This time the promise 
 was forgotten, and the widow forsaken. 
 Then Mrs. Wentworth put on her armor. 
 We had, in fact, reached this very absurd 
 situation, that these two ladies were con- 
 tending for the favors of, or the domination 
 over, such an obscure, poverty-stricken, 
 hopelessly ineligible person as the curate of
 
 THE CURATE OF P0LT0N8 303 
 
 Poltons undoubtedly was. The position 
 seemed to me then, and still seems, to indi- 
 cate some remarkable qualities in that young- 
 man. 
 
 At last Newhaven made a move. At 
 breakfast, on "Wednesday morning - , he an- 
 nounced that, reluctant as he should be to 
 leave Poltons Park, he was due at his aunt's 
 place, in Kent, on Saturday evening, and 
 must therefore make his arrangements to 
 leave by noon on that day. The significance 
 was apparent. Had he come down to break- 
 fast with " Now or Never ! " stamped in fiery 
 letters across his brow, it would have been 
 more obtrusive, indeed, but not a whit 
 plainer. We all looked down at our plates, 
 except Jack Ives. He flung one glance (I 
 saw it out of the corner of my left eye) at 
 Newhaven, another at Trix; then he re- 
 marked kindly — 
 
 "We shall be uncommonly sorry to lose 
 you, Newhaven." 
 
 Events began to happen now, and I will 
 tell them as well as I am able, supplement- 
 ing my own knowledge by what I learnt 
 afterwards from Dora — she having learnt it 
 from the actors in the scene. In spite of
 
 304 COMEDIES OF COURTSHIP 
 
 the solemn warning- conveyed in Newhaven's 
 intimation, Trix, greatly daring, went off im- 
 mediately after lunch for what she described 
 as " a long ramble " with Mr. Ives. There 
 was, indeed, the excuse of an old woman at 
 the end of the ramble, and Trix provided 
 Jack with a small basket of comforts for the 
 useful old body ; but the ramble was, we 
 felt, the thing, and I was much annoyed at 
 not being able to accompany the walkers in 
 the cloak of darkness or other invisible con- 
 trivance. The ramble consumed three hours 
 — full measure. Indeed, it was half -past six 
 before Trix, alone, walked up the drive. 
 Newhaven, a solitary figure, paced up and 
 down the terrace fronting the drive. Trix 
 came on, her head thrown back and a steady 
 smile on her lips. She saw Newhaven : he 
 stood looking at her for a moment with what 
 she afterwards described as an indescribable 
 smile on his face, but not, as Dora under- 
 stood from her, by any means a pleasant 
 one. Yet, if not pleasant, there is not the 
 least doubt in the world that it was highly 
 significant ; for she cried out nervously, 
 "Why are you looking at me like that? 
 What's the matter ? "
 
 THE CURATE OF POL TONS 305 
 
 Newhaven, still saying" nothing-, turned his 
 back on her and made as if he would walk 
 into the house and leave her there, ignored, 
 discarded, done with. She, realizing the 
 crisis which had come, forgetting everything 
 except the imminent danger of losing him 
 once for all, without time for long explana- 
 tion or any round - about seductions, ran 
 forward, laying her hand on his arm and 
 blurting out, 
 
 " But I've refused him." 
 
 I do not know what Newhaven thinks now, 
 but I sometimes doubt whether he would 
 not have been wiser to shake off the detain- 
 ing hand and pursue his lonely way, first 
 into the house, and ultimately to his aunt's. 
 But (to say nothing of the twenty thousand 
 a year, which, after all, and be you as roman- 
 tic as you may please to be, is not a thing to 
 be sneezed at) Trix's face, its mingled eager- 
 ness and shame, its flushed cheeks and shin- 
 ing eyes, the piquancy of its unwonted hu- 
 mility, overcame him. He stopped dead. 
 
 " I — I was obliged to give him an — an op- 
 portunity," said Miss Trix, having the grace 
 to stumble a little in her speech. " And — 
 
 and it's all your fault." 
 20
 
 306 COMEDIES OF COURTSHIP 
 
 The war was thus, by happy audacity, 
 carried into Newhaven's own quarters. 
 
 " My fault ! " he exclaimed. " My fault 
 that you walk all day with that curate ! " 
 
 Then Miss Trix — and let no irrelevant 
 considerations mar the appreciation of line 
 acting- — dropped her eyes and murmured 
 softly, 
 
 " I — I was so terribly afraid of seeming- to 
 expect you." 
 
 Wherewith she (and not he) ran away, 
 lightly, up the stairs, turning just one glance 
 downwards as she reached the landing. 
 Newhaven was looking up from below with 
 an "enchanted" smile — the word is Trix's 
 own : I should probably have used a differ- 
 ent one. 
 
 Was then the curate of Poltons utterly de- 
 feated — brought to his knees, only to be 
 spurned ? It seemed so : and he came down 
 to dinner that night with a subdued and 
 melancholy expression. Trix, on the other 
 hand, was brilliant and talkative to the last 
 degree, and the gayety spread from her all 
 round the table, leaving untouched only the 
 rejected lover and Mrs. Wentworth ; for the 
 last-named lady, true to her distinguishing
 
 THE CURATE OF POLTONS 307 
 
 quality, had begun to talk to poor Jack Ives 
 in low soothing tones. 
 
 After dinner Trix was not visible ; but the 
 door of the little boudoir beyond stood half- 
 open, and very soon Newhaven edged his 
 way through. Almost at the same moment 
 Jack Ives and Mrs. Wentworth passed out 
 of the window and began to walk up and 
 down the gravel. Nobody but myself ap- 
 peared to notice these remarkable occur- 
 rences, but I watched them with keen inter- 
 est. Half an hour passed and then there 
 smote on my watchful ear the sound of a 
 low laugh from the boudoir. It was fol- 
 lowed almost immediately by a stranger 
 sound from the gravel walk. Then, all in a 
 moment, two things happened. The bou- 
 doir door opened, and Trix, followed by 
 Newhaven, came in smiling ; from the win- 
 dow entered Jack Ives and Mrs. Wentworth. 
 My eyes were on the curate. He gave one 
 sudden comprehending glance towards the 
 other couple ; then he took the widow's 
 hand, led her up to Dora, and said, in low 
 yet penetrating tones, 
 
 " Will you wish us joy, Mrs. Polton ? " 
 The Squire, Rippleby, and Algy Stanton
 
 308 COMEDIES OF COURTSHIP 
 
 were round them in an instant. I kept my 
 place, watching- now the face of Trix Queen- 
 borough. She turned first flaming red, then 
 very pale. I saw her turn to Newhaven 
 and speak one or two urgent imperative 
 words to him. Then, drawing herself up 
 to her full height, she crossed the room to 
 where the group was assembled round Mrs. 
 Wentworth and Jack Ives. 
 
 " What's the matter ? What are you say- 
 ing ? " she asked. 
 
 Mrs. Wentworth's eyes were modestly 
 cast down, but a smile played round her 
 mouth. No one spoke for a moment. Then 
 Jack Ives said, 
 
 " Mrs. Wentworth has promised to be my 
 wife, Miss Queenborough." 
 
 For a moment, hardly perceptible, Trix 
 hesitated ; then, with the most winning, 
 touching, sweetest smile in the world, she 
 said, 
 
 " So you took my advice, and our after- 
 noon walk was not wasted after all ! " 
 
 Mrs. Polton is not used to these fine 
 flights of diplomacy ; she had heard before 
 dinner something of what had actually hap- 
 pened in the afternoon ; and the simple
 
 THE CURATE OF POLTONS 309 
 
 woman positively jumped. Jack Ives met 
 Trix's scornful e}*es full and square. 
 
 " Not at all wasted," said lie with a smile. 
 " Not only has it shown me where my true 
 happiness lies, but it has also given me a 
 juster idea of the value and sincerity of your 
 regard for me, Miss Queenborough." 
 
 " It is as real, Mr. Ives, as it is sincere," 
 said she. 
 
 " It is like yourself, Miss Queenborough," 
 said he, with a little bow ; and he turned 
 from her and began to talk to his fiancee. 
 
 Trix Queenborough moved slowly towards 
 where I sat. Newhaven was watching her 
 from where he stood alone on the other side 
 of the room. 
 
 " And have you no news for us ? " I asked 
 in low tones. 
 
 "Thank you," she said haughtily; "I 
 don't care that mine should be a pendant to 
 the great tidings about the little widow and 
 the curate." 
 
 After a moment's pause she went on : 
 
 " He lost no time, did he ? He was wise 
 to secure her before what happened this 
 afternoon could leak out. Nobody can tell 
 her now."
 
 310 COMEDIES OF COURTSHIP 
 
 " This afternoon ? " 
 
 " He asked me to marry him this after- 
 noon." 
 
 " And you refused ? " 
 
 " Yes." 
 
 " Well, his behavior is in outrageously 
 bad taste, but " 
 
 She laid a hand on my arm, and said in 
 calm level tones, 
 
 " I refused him because I dared not have 
 him ; but I told him I cared for him, and he 
 said he loved me. And I let him kiss me. 
 Good-night, Mr. Wynne." 
 
 I sat still and silent. Newhaven came 
 across to us. Trix put out her hand and 
 caught him by the sleeve. 
 
 " Fred," she said, " my dear honest old 
 Fred, you love me, don't you ? " 
 
 Newhaven, much embarrassed and sur- 
 prised, looked at me in alarm. But her hand 
 was in his now, and her eyes imploring 
 him. 
 
 "I should rather think I did, my dear," 
 said he. 
 
 I really hope that Lord and Lady New- 
 haven will not be very unhappy, while Mrs. 
 Ives quite worships her husband, and is
 
 THE CURATE OF P0LT0N8 311 
 
 convinced that she eclipsed the brilliant and 
 wealthy Miss Queenborough. Perhaps she 
 did — perhaps not. There are, as I have 
 said, great qualities in the curate of Poltons, 
 but I have not quite made up my mind 
 precisely what they are. I ought, however, 
 to say that Dora takes a more favorable 
 view of him and a less lenient view of Trix 
 than I. That is perhaps natural. Besides, 
 Dora does not know the precise manner in 
 which the curate was refused. By the way, 
 he preached next Sunday on the text, " The 
 children of this world are wiser in their gen- 
 eration than the children of light."
 
 A THREE-VOLUME NOVEL
 
 A THREE-VOLUME NOVEL 
 
 IT was, I believe, mainly as a compliment 
 to me that Miss Audrey Liston was 
 asked to Poltons. Miss Liston and I were 
 very good friends, and my cousin Dora Pol- 
 ton thought, as she informed me, that it 
 would be nice for me to have some one I 
 could talk to about " books and so on." I 
 did not complain. Miss Liston was a pleas- 
 ant young woman of six - and - twenty ; I 
 liked her very much except on paper, and I 
 was aware that she made it a point of duty 
 to read something at least of what I wrote. 
 She was in the habit of describing herself 
 as an " authoress in a small way." If it were 
 pointed out that six three-volume novels in 
 three years (the term of her literary activity 
 at the time of which I write) could hardly 
 be called " a small way." she would smile 
 modestly and say that it was not really 
 much ; and if she were told that the English
 
 316 COMEDIES OF COURTSHIP 
 
 language embraced no such word as "au- 
 thoress," she would smile again and say that 
 it ought to, a position towards the bug- 
 bear of correctness with which, I confess, I 
 sympathize in some degree. She was very 
 diligent ; she worked from ten to one every 
 day while she was at Poltons ; how much 
 she wrote is between her and her con- 
 science. 
 
 There was another impeachment which 
 Miss Liston was hardly at the trouble to 
 deny. " Take my characters from life ! " 
 she would exclaim. " Surely every artist 
 (Miss Liston often referred to herself as an 
 artist) must ! " And she would proceed to 
 maintain — what is perhaps true sometimes 
 — that people rather liked being put into 
 books, just as they liked being photo- 
 graphed, for all that they grumble and pre- 
 tend to be afflicted when either process is 
 levied against them. In discussing this 
 matter with Miss Liston I felt myself on 
 delicate ground, for it was notorious that I 
 figured in her first book in the guise of a 
 misogynistic genius ; the fact that she 
 lengthened (and thickened) my hair, con- 
 verted it from an indeterminate brown to a
 
 A THREE-VOLUME NOVEL 317 
 
 dusky black, gave me a drooping mustache, 
 and invested my very ordinary work-a-day 
 eyes with a strange magnetic attraction, 
 availed nothing ; I was at once recognized, 
 and, I may remark in passing, an uncom- 
 monly disagreeable fellow she made me. 
 Thus I had passed through the fire. I felt 
 tolerably sure that I presented no other as- 
 pect of interest, real or supposed, and I was 
 quite content that Miss Liston should serve 
 all the rest of her acquaintance as she had 
 served me. I reckoned they would last her, 
 at the present rate of production, about five 
 years. 
 
 Fate was kind to Miss Liston, and pro- 
 vided her with most suitable patterns for 
 her next piece of work at Poltons itself. 
 There were a young man and a young wom- 
 an staying in the house — Sir Gilbert Chil- 
 lington and Miss Pamela Myles. The mo- 
 ment Miss Liston was appraised of a possi- 
 ble romance, she began the study of the 
 protagonists. She was looking out, she 
 told me, for some new types (if it were any 
 consolation — and there is a sort of dignity 
 about it — to be called a type, Miss Liston's 
 victims were always welcome to so much),
 
 318 COMEDIES OF COURTSHIP 
 
 and she had found them in Chilling-ton and 
 Pamela. The former appeared to my dull 
 eye to offer no salient novelty ; he was tall, 
 broad, handsome, and he possessed a man- 
 ner of enviable placidity. Pamela, I al- 
 lowed, was exactly the heroine Miss Liston 
 loved — haughty, capricious, difficile, but 
 sound and true at heart (I was mentally 
 skimming Yolume I.). Miss Liston agreed 
 with me in my conception of Pamela, but 
 declared that I did not do justice to the 
 artistic possibilities latent in Chillington ; 
 he had a curious attraction which it would 
 tax her skill (so she gravely informed me) to 
 the utmost to reproduce. She proposed 
 that I also should make a study of him, and 
 attributed my hurried refusal to a shrinking 
 from the difficulties of the task. 
 
 " Of course," she observed, looking at our 
 young friends who were talking nonsense at 
 the other side of the lawn, " they must have 
 a misunderstanding." 
 
 "Why, of course," said I, lighting my pipe. 
 " "What should you say to another man? " 
 
 " Or another woman ? " said Miss Liston. 
 
 "It comes to the same thing," said I. 
 (About a volume and a half I meant.)
 
 A THREE-VOLUME NOVEL 319 
 
 " But it's more interesting. Do you think 
 she'd better be a married woman ? " And 
 Miss Liston looked at me inquiringly. 
 
 " The age prefers them married," I re- 
 marked. 
 
 This conversation happened on the sec- 
 ond day of Miss Liston's visit, and she lost 
 no time in beginning to study her subjects. 
 Pamela, she said, she found pretty plain 
 sailing, but Chillington continued to puzzle 
 her. Again, she could not make up her 
 mind whether to have a happy or a tragic 
 ending. In the interests of a tender-hearted 
 public, I pleaded for marriage-bells. 
 
 " Yes, I think so," said Miss Liston, but 
 she sighed, and I think she had an idea or 
 two for a heart-broken separation, followed 
 by mutual, life-long, hopeless devotion. 
 
 The complexity of young Sir Gilbert did 
 not, in Miss Liston's opinion, appear less 
 on further acquaintance ; and indeed, I 
 must admit that she was not altogether 
 wrong in considering him worthy of atten- 
 tion. As I came to know him better, I dis- 
 cerned in him a smothered self-apprecia- 
 tion, which came to light in response to the 
 least tribute of interest or admiration, but
 
 320 COMEDIES OF COURTSHIP 
 
 was yet far remote from the aggressiveness 
 of a commonplace vanity. In a moment of 
 indiscretion I had chaffed him — he was very 
 good-natured — on the risks he ran at Miss 
 Liston's hands ; he was not disgusted, but 
 neither did he plume himself or spread his 
 feathers. He received the suggestions with- 
 out surprise, and without any attempt at 
 disclaiming fitness for the purpose ; but he 
 received it as a matter which entailed a re- 
 sponsibility on him. I detected the con- 
 viction that, if the portrait was to be 
 painted, it was due to the world that it 
 should be well painted ; the subject must 
 give the artist full opportunities. 
 
 "What does she know about me?" he 
 asked, in meditative tones. 
 
 " She's very quick ; she'll soon pick up as 
 much as she wants," I assured him. 
 
 " She'll probably go all wrong," he said, 
 sombrely ; and of course I could not tell 
 him that it was of no consequence if she 
 did. He would not have believed me, and 
 would have done precisely what he pro- 
 ceeded to do, and that was to afford Miss 
 Liston every chance of appraising his char- 
 acter and plumbing the depths of his soul.
 
 A THREE-VOLUME NOVEL 321 
 
 I may say at once tliat I did not regret this 
 course of action ; for the effect of it was 
 to allow me a chance of talking to Pamela 
 Myles, and Pamela was exactly the sort of 
 a girl to beguile the long pleasant morning 
 hours of a holiday in the country. No one 
 had told Pamela that she was going to be 
 put in a book, and I don't think it would 
 have made any difference had she been told. 
 Pamela's attitude towards books was one 
 of healthy scorn, confidently based on ad- 
 mitted ignorance. So we never spoke of 
 them, and my cousin Dora condoled with me 
 more than once on the way in which Miss 
 Liston, false to the implied terms of her 
 invitation, deserted me in favor of Sir Gil- 
 bert, and left me to the mercies of a frivo- 
 lous girl. Pamela appeared to be as little 
 aggrieved as I was. I imagined that she 
 supposed that Chillington would ask her to 
 marry him some day before very long, and 
 I was sure she would accept him ; but it 
 was quite plain that, if Miss Liston per- 
 sisted in making Pamela her heroine, she 
 would have to supply from her own re- 
 sources a large supplement of passion. 
 
 Pamela was far too deficient in the commod- 
 21
 
 322 COMEDIES OF COURTSHIP 
 
 ity to be made anything of, without such 
 reinforcement, even by an art more adept at 
 making much out of nothing than Miss 
 Liston's straightforward method could claim 
 to be. 
 
 A week passed, and then, one Friday 
 morning, a new light burst on me. Miss 
 Liston came into the garden at eleven 
 o'clock and sat down by me on the lawn. 
 Chillington and Pamela had gone riding 
 with the squire, Dora was visiting the poor. 
 We were alone. The appearance of Miss 
 Liston at this hour (usually sacred to the 
 use of the pen), no less than her puzzled 
 look, told me that an obstruction had oc- 
 curred in the novel. Presently she let me 
 know what it was. 
 
 " I'm thinking of altering the scheme of 
 my story, Mr. Wynne," said she. "Have 
 you ever noticed how sometimes a man 
 thinks he's in love when he isn't really ? " 
 
 " Such a case sometimes occurs," I ac- 
 knowledged. 
 
 "Yes, and he doesn't find out his mis- 
 take " 
 
 " Till they're married ? " 
 
 " Sometimes, yes," she said, rather as
 
 A THREE-VOLUME NOVEL 323 
 
 though she were making an unwilling ad- 
 mission. " But sometimes he sees it before 
 — when he meets somebody else." 
 
 " Very true," said I, with a grave nod. 
 
 " The false can't stand against the real,'* 
 pursued Miss Liston ; and then she fell into 
 meditative silence. I stole a glance at her 
 face ; she was smiling. Was it in the pleas- 
 ure of literary creation — an artistic ecstasy ? 
 I should have liked to answer yes, but I 
 doubted it very much. Without pretending 
 to Miss Liston's powers, I have the little 
 subtlety that is needful to show me that 
 more than one kind of smile may be seen on 
 the human face, and that there is one very 
 different from others ; and finally, that that 
 one is not evoked, as a rule, merely by the 
 evolution of the troublesome encumbrance 
 in pretty writing, vulgarly called a " plot." 
 
 " If," pursued Miss Liston, " some one 
 comes who can appreciate him and draw 
 out what is best in him ■" 
 
 " That's all very well," said I, " but what 
 of the first girl ? " 
 
 " Oh, she's — she can be made shallow, you 
 know ; and I can put in a man for her. 
 People needn't be much interested in her."
 
 324 COMEDIES OF COURTSHIP 
 
 " Yes, you could manage it that way," 
 said I, thinking- how Pamela — I took the 
 liberty of using her name for the shallow 
 girl — would like such treatment. 
 
 " She will really be valuable mainly as a 
 foil," observed Miss Liston ; and she added 
 generously, " I shall make her nice, you 
 know, but shallow — not worthy of him." 
 
 "And what are you going to make the 
 other girl like ? " I asked. 
 
 Miss Liston started slightly ; also she 
 colored very slightly, and she answered, 
 looking away from me across the lawn, 
 
 " I haven't quite made up my mind yet, 
 Mr. Wynne." 
 
 With the suspicion which this conversa- 
 tion aroused fresh in my mind, it was 
 curious to hear Pamela laugh, as she said 
 to me on the afternoon of the same day, 
 
 "Aren't Sir Gilbert and Audrey Liston 
 funny ? I tell you what, Mr. Wynne, I be- 
 lieve they're writing a novel together." 
 
 " Perhaps Chillington's giving her the 
 materials for one," I suggested. 
 
 " I shouldn't think," observed Pamela, in 
 her dispassionate way, " that anything very 
 interesting had ever happened to him."
 
 A THREE-VOLUME NOVEL 325 
 
 "I thought you liked hiro," I remarked, 
 humbly. 
 
 " So I do. "What's that got to do with it ? " 
 asked Pamela. 
 
 It was beyond question that Chillington 
 enjoyed Miss Liston's society ; the interest 
 she showed in him was incense to his nos- 
 trils. I used to overhear fragments of his 
 ideas about himself, which he was revealing 
 in answer to her tactful inquiries. But 
 neither was it doubtful that he had by no 
 means lost his relish for Pamela's lighter 
 talk ; in fact, he seemed to turn to her with 
 some relief — perhaps it is refreshing to es- 
 cape from self-analysis, even when the proc- 
 ess is conducted in the pleasantest possible 
 manner — and the hours which Miss Liston 
 gave to work were devoted by Chillington 
 to maintaining his cordial relations with the 
 lady whose comfortable and not over-tragi- 
 cal disposal was taxing Miss Liston's skill. 
 For she had definitely decided all her plot ; 
 she told me so a few days later. It was all 
 planned out ; nay, the scene in which the 
 truth as to his own feelings bursts on Sir 
 Gilbert (I forget at the moment what name 
 the novel gave him) was, I understood,
 
 326 COMEDIES OF COURTSHIP 
 
 actually written; the shallow girl was to 
 experience nothing worse than a wound to 
 her vanity, and was to turn with as much 
 alacrity as decency allowed to the substitute 
 whom Miss Liston had now provided. All 
 this was poured into my sympathetic ear, 
 and I say sympathetic with all sincerity ; 
 for, although I may occasionally treat Miss 
 Liston's literary efforts with less than 
 proper respect, she herself was my friend, 
 and the conviction under which she was now 
 living would, I knew, unless it were justified, 
 bring her into much of that unhappiness in 
 which one generally found her heroine 
 plunged about the end of Volume II. The 
 heroine generally got out all right, and the 
 knowledge that she would enabled the reader 
 to preserve cheerfulness. But would poor 
 little Miss Liston get out ? I was none too 
 sure of it. 
 
 Suddenly a change came in the state of 
 affairs. Pamela produced it. It must have 
 struck her that the increasing intimacy of 
 Miss Liston and Chillington might become 
 something other than " funny." To put it 
 briefly and metaphorically, she whistled her 
 dog back to her heels. I am not skilled in
 
 A TIIREE-VOLUME NOVEL 327 
 
 understanding 1 or describing- the artifices of 
 ladies ; but even I saw the transformation in 
 Pamela. She put forth her strength and 
 put on her prettiest gowns ; she refused to 
 take her place in the see - saw of society, 
 which Chillington had recently established 
 for his pleasure. If he spent an hour with 
 Miss Liston, Pamela would have nothing of 
 him for a day ; she met his attentions with 
 scorn unless they were undivided. Chilling- 
 ton seemed at first puzzled ; I believe that 
 he never regarded his talks with Miss Liston 
 in other than a business point of view, but 
 directly he understood that Pamela claimed 
 him, and that she was prepared, in case he 
 did not obey her call, to establish a griev- 
 ance against him, he lost no time in mani- 
 festing his obedience. A whole day passed 
 in which, to my certain knowledge, he was 
 not alone a moment with Miss Liston, and 
 did not, save at the family meals, exchange a 
 word with her. As he walked off with 
 Pamela, Miss Liston's eyes followed him in 
 wistful longing ; she stole away upstairs 
 and did not come down till five o'clock. 
 Then finding me strolling about with a cig- 
 arette, she joined me.
 
 328 COMEDIES OF COURTSHIP 
 
 " Well, how goes the book ? " I asked. 
 
 " I haven't done much to it just lately," 
 she answered, in a low voice. " I — it's — I 
 don't quite know what to do with it." 
 
 " I thought you'd settled ? " 
 
 " So I had, but — oh, don't let's talk about 
 it, Mr. Wynne ! " 
 
 But a moment later she went on talking 
 about it. 
 
 " I don't know why I should make it end 
 happily," she said. " I'm sure life isn't al- 
 ways happy, is it ? " 
 
 " Certainly not," I answered. " You mean 
 your man might stick to the shallow girl 
 after all ? " 
 
 " Yes," I just heard her whisper. 
 
 " And be miserable afterwards ? " I pur- 
 sued. 
 
 " I don't know," said Miss Liston. " Per- 
 haps he wouldn't." 
 
 " Then you must make him shallow him- 
 self." 
 
 " I can't do that," she said quickly. " Oh, 
 how difficult it is ! " 
 
 She may have meant merely the art of 
 writing — when I cordially agreed with her — 
 but I think she meant also the way of the
 
 A THREE-VOLUME NOVEL 329 
 
 world, which does not make me withdraw 
 my assent. I left her walking* up and down 
 in front of the drawing-room windows, a 
 rather forlorn little figure, thrown into dis- 
 tinctness by the cold rays of the setting sun. 
 
 All was not over yet. That evening Chil- 
 lington broke away. Led by vanity, or in- 
 terest, or friendliness, I know not which — 
 tired maybe of paying court (the attitude in 
 which Pamela kept him), and thinking it 
 would be pleasant to play the other part for 
 a while — after dinner he went straight to 
 Miss Liston, talked to her while we had cof- 
 fee on the terrace, and then walked about 
 with her. Pamela sat by me ; she was very 
 silent ; she did not appear to be angry, but 
 her handsome mouth wore a resolute expres- 
 sion. Chillington and Miss Liston wan- 
 dered on into the shrubbery, and did not 
 come into sight again for nearly half an 
 hour. 
 
 "I think it's cold," said Pamela, in her 
 cool, quiet tones. "And it's also, Mr. 
 Wynne, rather slow. I shall go to bed." 
 
 I thought it a little impertinent of Pamela 
 to attribute the " slowness " (which had un- 
 doubtedly existed) to me, so I took my re-
 
 330 COMEDIES OF COURTSHIP 
 
 venge by saying, with an assumption of in- 
 nocence purposely and obviously unreal, 
 
 " Oh, but won't you wait and bid Miss 
 Liston and Chillington good-night ? " 
 
 Pamela looked at me for a moment. I 
 made bold to smile. 
 
 Pamela's face broke slowly into an an- 
 swering smile. 
 
 " I don't know what you mean, Mr. 
 Wynne," said she. 
 
 " No ? " said I. 
 
 " No," said Pamela, and she turned away. 
 But before she went she looked over her 
 shoulder, and, still smiling, said, " Wish 
 Miss Liston good-night for me, Mr. Wynne. 
 Anything I have to say to Sir Gilbert will 
 wait very well till to-morrow." 
 
 She had hardly gone in when the wander- 
 ers came out of the shrubbery and rejoined 
 me. Chillington wore his usual passive 
 look, but Miss Liston's face was happy and 
 radiant. Chillington passed on into the 
 drawing-room. Miss Liston lingered a mo- 
 ment by me. 
 
 " Why, you look," said I, " as if you'd in- 
 vented the finest scene ever written." 
 
 She did not answer me directly, but
 
 A THREE-VOLUME NOVEL 331 
 
 stood looking- up at the stars. Then she 
 said in a dreamy tone, 
 
 " I think I shall stick to my old idea in 
 the book." 
 
 As she spoke Chilling-ton came out. Even 
 in the dim light I saw a frown on his face. 
 
 " I say, Wynne," said he, " where's Miss 
 Myles ? " 
 
 " She's gone to bed," I answered. " She 
 told me to wish you good -night for her, 
 Miss Liston. No message for you, Chil- 
 lington." 
 
 Miss Liston's eyes were on him. He 
 took no notice of her ; he stood frowning for 
 an instant, then, with some muttered ejacu- 
 lation, he strode back into the house. We 
 heard his heavy tread across the drawing- 
 room ; we heard the door slammed behind 
 him, and I found myself looking on Miss 
 Liston's altered face. 
 
 " What does he want her for, I wonder ? " 
 she said, in an agitation that made my pres- 
 ence, my thoughts, my suspicions, nothing 
 to her. " He said nothing to me about want- 
 ing to speak to her to-night." And she 
 walked slowly into the house, her eyes on the 
 ground, and all the light gone from her face
 
 332 COMEDIES OF COURTSHIP 
 
 and the joy dead in it. Whereupon I, left 
 alone, began to rail at the gods that a dear, 
 silly little soul like Miss Liston should 
 bother her poor, silly little head about a 
 hulking fool ; in which reflections I did, of 
 course, immense injustice not only to an 
 eminent author, but also to a perfectly hon- 
 orable, though somewhat dense and de- 
 cidedly conceited, gentleman. 
 
 The next morning Sir Gilbert Chillington 
 ate dirt — there is no other way of expressing 
 it — in great quantities and with infinite hu- 
 mility. My admirable friend Miss Pamela 
 was severe. I saw him walk six yards be- 
 hind her for the length of the terrace ; not a 
 look nor a turn of her head gave him leave 
 to join her. Miss Liston had gone upstairs, 
 and I watched the scene from the window of 
 the smoking-room. At last, at the end of 
 the long walk, just where the laurel-bushes 
 mark the beginning of the shrubberies — on 
 the threshold of the scene of his crime — 
 Pamela turned round suddenly and faced 
 the repentant sinner. The most interesting 
 things in life are those which, perhaps by 
 the inevitable nature of the case, one does 
 not hear ; and I did not hear the scene which
 
 A THREE-VOLUME NOVEL 333 
 
 followed. For a while they stood talking — ■ 
 rather, he talked and she listened. Then she 
 turned again and walked slowly into the 
 shrubbery. Chillington followed. It was 
 the end of a chapter, and I laid down the 
 book. 
 
 How and from whom Miss Liston heard 
 the news, which Chillington himself told me 
 without a glimmer of shame or a touch of 
 embarrassment some two hours later, I do 
 not know ; but hear it she did before 
 luncheon ; for she came down, ready armed 
 with the neatest little speeches for both the 
 happy lovers. I did not expect Pamela to 
 show an ounce more feeling than the strict- 
 est canons of propriety demanded, and she 
 fulfilled my expectations to the letter ; but I 
 had hoped, I confess, that Chillington would 
 have displayed some little consciousness. 
 He did not ; and it is my belief that, 
 throughout the events which I have re- 
 corded, he retained, and that he still retains, 
 the conviction that Miss Liston's interest in 
 him was purely literary and artistic, and 
 that she devoted herself to his society simply 
 because he offered an interesting problem 
 and an inspiring theme. An ingenious
 
 334 COMEDIES OF COURTSHIP 
 
 charity may find in that attitude evidence of 
 modesty ; to my thinking it argues a more 
 subtle and magnificent conceit than if he had 
 fathomed the truth, as many humbler men 
 in his place would have done. 
 
 On the day after the engagement was ac- 
 complished Miss Liston left us to return to 
 London. She came out in her hat and 
 jacket and sat down by me ; the carriage 
 was to be round in ten minutes. She put 
 on her gloves slowly and buttoned them 
 carefully. This done, she said, 
 
 " By the way, Mr. Wynne, I've adopted 
 your suggestion. The man doesn't find out." 
 
 " Then you've made him a fool ? " I asked 
 bluntly. 
 
 "No," she answered. "I — I think it 
 might happen though he wasn't a fool." 
 
 She sat with her hands in her lap for a 
 moment or two, then she went on in a lower 
 voice, 
 
 "I'm going to make him find out after- 
 wards." 
 
 I felt her glance on me, but I looked 
 straight in front of me. 
 
 "What! after he's married the shallow 
 girl ? "
 
 A THREE-VOLUME NOVEL 335 
 
 " Yes," said Miss Liston. 
 
 "Rather too late, isn't it? At least if 
 yon mean there is to be a happy ending." 
 
 Miss Liston enlaced her fingers. 
 
 " I haven't decided about the ending yet," 
 said she. 
 
 " If you're intent is to be tragical — which 
 is the fashion — you'll do as you stand," 
 said I. 
 
 " Yes," she answered slowly, " if I'm tragi- 
 cal I shall do as I stand." 
 
 There was another pause, and rather a long 
 one ; the wheels of the carriage were audible 
 on the gravel of the front drive. Miss Lis- 
 ton stood up. I rose and held out my hand. 
 
 " Of course," said Miss Liston, still intent 
 on her novel, "I could — " She stopped 
 again, and looked apprehensively at me. 
 My face, I believe, expressed nothing more 
 than polite attention and friendly interest. 
 
 " Of course," she began again, "the shal- 
 low girl — his wife — might — might die, Mr. 
 Wynne." 
 
 " In novels," said I, with a smile, " while 
 there's death there's hope." 
 
 " Yes, in novels," she answered, giving me 
 her hand.
 
 33G COMEDIES OF COURTSHIP 
 
 The poor little woman was very unhappy. 
 Unwisely, I dare say, I pressed her hand. 
 It was enough ; the tears leapt to her eyes ; 
 she gave my great fist a hurried squeeze. I 
 have seldom been more touched by any 
 thanks, however warm or eloquent, and 
 hurried away. 
 
 I have read the novel. It came out a lit- 
 tle while ago. The man finds out after the 
 marriage ; the shallow girl dies unregretted 
 (she turns out as badly as possible) ; the real 
 love comes, and all ends joyfully. It is a 
 simple story, prettily told in its little way, 
 and the scene of the reunion is written with 
 genuine feeling — nay, with a touch of real 
 passion. But then Sir Gilbert Chillington 
 never meets Miss Liston now. And Lady 
 Chillington not only behaves with her cus- 
 tomary propriety, but is in the enjoyment 
 of most excellent health and spirits. 
 
 True art demands an adaptation, not a 
 copy, of life. I saw that remark somewhere 
 the other day. It seems correct, if Miss 
 Liston be any authority.
 
 THE PHILOSOPHER IN THE 
 APPLE ORCHARD 
 
 22
 
 THE PHILOSOPHER IN THE 
 APPLE ORCHARD 
 
 IT was a charmingly mild and balmy day. 
 The sun shone beyond the orchard, and 
 the shade was cool inside. A light breeze 
 stirred the boughs of the old apple tree 
 under which the philosopher sat. None of 
 these things did the philosopher notice, un- 
 less it might be when the wind blew about 
 the leaves of the large volume on his knees, 
 and he had to find his place again. Then 
 he would exclaim against the wind, shuffle 
 the leaves till he got the right page, and 
 settle to his reading. The book was a trea- 
 tise on ontology ; it was written by another 
 philosopher, a friend of this philosopher's ; 
 it bristled with fallacies, and this philos- 
 opher was discovering them all, and noting 
 them on the fly-leaf at the end. He was not 
 going to review the book (as some might
 
 340 COMEDIES OF COURTSHIP 
 
 have thought from his behavior), or even to 
 answer it in a work of his own. It was just 
 that he found a pleasure in stripping any 
 poor fallacy naked and crucifying- it. 
 
 Presently a girl in a white frock came 
 into the orchard. She picked up an apple, 
 bit it, and found it ripe. Holding it in her 
 hand she walked up to where the philos- 
 opher sat, and looked at him. He did not 
 stir. She took a bite out of the apple, 
 munched it, and swallowed it. The philos- 
 opher crucified a fallacy on the fly-leaf. 
 The girl flung the apple away. 
 
 " Mr. Jerningham," said she, " are you 
 very busy ? " 
 
 The philosopher, pencil in hand, looked 
 up. 
 
 " No, Miss May," said he, " not very." 
 
 " Because I want your opinion." 
 
 " In one moment," said the philosopher 
 apologetically. 
 
 He turned back to the fly-leaf and began 
 to nail the last fallacy a little tighter to the 
 cross. The girl regarded him, first with 
 amused impatience, then with a vexed frown, 
 finally with a wistful regret. He was so 
 very old for his age, she thought ; he could
 
 THE PHILOSOPIIER 341 
 
 not be much beyond thirty ; his hair was 
 thick and full of waves, his eyes bright and 
 clear, his complexion not yet divested of all 
 youth's relics. 
 
 "Now, Miss May, I'm at your service," 
 3aid the philosopher with a lingering look 
 at his impaled fallacy. And he closed the 
 book, keeping it, however, on his knee. 
 
 The girl sat down just opposite to him. 
 " It's a very important thing I want to ask 
 you," she began, tugging at a tuft of grass, 
 " and it's very — difficult, and you mustn't tell 
 any one I asked you ; at least, I'd rather you 
 didn't." 
 
 " I shall not speak of it ; indeed, I shall 
 probably not remember it," said the philos- 
 opher. 
 
 " And you mustn't look at me, please, 
 while I'm asking you." 
 
 " I don't think I was looking at you, but 
 if I was I beg your pardon," said the philos- 
 opher apologetically. 
 
 She pulled the tuft of grass right out of 
 the ground and flung it from her with all 
 her force. 
 
 " Suppose a man -*' she began. " No, 
 
 that's not right."
 
 342 COMEDIES OF COURTSHIP 
 
 " You can take any hypothesis you 
 please," observed the philosopher, " but you 
 must verify it afterwards, of course." 
 
 " Oh, do let me go on. Suppose a girl, 
 Mr. Jerningham — I wish you wouldn't 
 nod." 
 
 " It was only to show that I followed 
 
 you." 
 
 " Oh, of course you ' follow me,' as you 
 call it. Suppose a girl had two lovers — 
 you're nodding again ! — or, I ought to say, 
 suppose there were two men who might be 
 in love with a girl." 
 
 " Only two ? " asked the philosopher. 
 " You see, any number of men might be in 
 love with " 
 
 " Oh, we can leave the rest out," said Miss 
 May with a sudden dimple ; " they don't 
 matter." 
 
 " Very well," said the philosopher. " If 
 they are irrelevant we will put them aside." 
 
 " Suppose then that one of these men was, 
 oh, awfully in love with the girl, and — and 
 proposed, you know -" 
 
 " A moment ! " said the philosopher, open- 
 ing a note-book. " Let me take down his 
 proposition. What was it ? "
 
 THE PHILOSOPHER 343 
 
 "Why, proposed to her — asked her to 
 marry him," said the girl, with a stare. 
 
 " Dear me ! How stupid of me ! I forgot 
 that special use of the word. Yes ? " 
 
 " The girl likes him pretty well, and her 
 people approve of him and all that, you 
 know." 
 
 " That simplifies the problem," said the 
 philosopher, nodding again. 
 
 " But she's not in — in love with him, you 
 know. She doesn't really care for him — 
 much. Do you understand ? " 
 
 " Perfectly. It is a most natural state of 
 mind." 
 
 " Well then, suppose that there's another 
 man — what are you writing ? " 
 
 " I only put down (B) — like that," pleaded 
 the philosopher, meekly exhibiting his note- 
 book. 
 
 She looked at him in a sort of helpless 
 exasperation, with just a smile somewhere 
 in the background of it. 
 
 " Oh, you really are " she exclaimed. 
 
 " But let me go on. The other man is a 
 friend of the girl's; he's very clever — oh, 
 fearfully clever ; and he's rather handsome. 
 You needn't put that down." .
 
 344 COMEDIES OF COURTSHIP 
 
 " It is certainly not very material," ad- 
 mitted the philosopher, and he crossed out 
 " handsome." " Clever " he left. 
 
 " And the girl is most awfully — she ad- 
 mires him tremendously ; she thinks him just 
 the greatest man that ever lived, you know. 
 And she — she " The girl paused. 
 
 "I'm following," said the philosopher, 
 with pencil poised. 
 
 "She'd think it better than the whole 
 world if — if she could be anything to him, 
 you know." 
 
 " You mean become his wife ? " 
 
 " Well, of course I do— at least I suppose 
 I do." 
 
 " You spoke rather vaguely, you know." 
 
 The girl cast one glance at the philoso- 
 pher as she replied — 
 
 " Well, yes. I did mean become his wife." 
 
 "Yes. Well?" 
 
 " But," continued the girl, starting on an- 
 other tuft of grass, " he doesn't think much 
 about those things. He likes her. I think 
 he likes her " 
 
 " Well, doesn't dislike her ? " suggested 
 the philosopher. "Shall we call him in- 
 different ? "
 
 THE PHILOSOPHER 345 
 
 "I don't know. Yes, rather indifferent. 
 I don't think he thinks about it, you know. 
 But she — she's pretty. You needn't put 
 that down." 
 
 " I was not about to do so," observed the 
 philosopher. 
 
 " She thinks life with him would be just 
 heaven; and — and she thinks she would 
 make him awfully happy. She would — 
 would be so proud of him, you see." 
 
 " I see. Yes ! " 
 
 " And — I don't know how to put it, quite 
 — she thinks that if he ever thought about 
 it at all, he might care for her ; because he 
 doesn't care for anybody else ; and she's 
 pretty " 
 
 " You said that before." 
 
 " Oh dear, I dare say I did. And most 
 men care for somebody, don't they ? some 
 girl, I mean." 
 
 " Most men, no doubt," conceded the phi- 
 losopher. 
 
 " Well, then, what ought she to do ? It's 
 not a real thing, you know, Mr. Jerning- 
 ham. It's in — in a novel I was reading." 
 She said this hastily, and blushed as she 
 spoke.
 
 3-±6 COMEDIES OF COURTSHIP 
 
 " Dear me ! And it's quite an interesting" 
 case ! Yes, I see. The question is, Will she 
 act most wisely in accepting - the offer of the 
 man who loves her exceedingly, but for whom 
 she entertains only a moderate affection " 
 
 " Yes. Just a liking. He's just a friend." 
 
 "Exactly. Or in marrying the other 
 whom she loves ex " 
 
 " That's not it. How can she marry him ? 
 He hasn't — he hasn't asked her, you see." 
 
 " True. I forgot. Let us assume, though, 
 for the moment, that he has asked her. She 
 would then have to consider which marriage 
 would probably be productive of the greater 
 sum total of " 
 
 " Oh, but you needn't consider that." 
 
 " But it seems the best logical order. 
 We can afterwards make allowance for the 
 element of uncertainty caused by " 
 
 " Oh no. I don't want it like that. I 
 know perfectly well which she'd do if he — 
 the other man, you know — asked her." 
 
 " You apprehend that " 
 
 "Never mind what I 'apprehend.' Take 
 it just as I told you." 
 
 "Very good. A has asked her hand, B 
 has not."
 
 THE PHILOSOPHER 347 
 
 "Yes." 
 
 " May I take it that, but for the disturb- 
 ing- influence of B, A would be a satisfac- 
 tory — er — candidate ? " 
 
 "Ye— es. I think so." 
 
 " She therefore enjoys a certainty of con- 
 siderable happiness if she marries A ? " 
 
 "Ye — es. Not perfect, because of — B, 
 you know." 
 
 " Quite so, quite so ; but still a fair 
 amount of happiness. Is it not so ? " 
 
 " I don't — well, perhaps." 
 
 " On the other hand, if B did ask her, we 
 are to postulate a higher degree of happi- 
 ness for her? " 
 
 " Yes, please, Mr. Jerningham — much 
 higher." 
 
 " For both of them ? " 
 
 " For her. Never mind him." 
 
 "Very well. That again simplifies the 
 problem. But his asking her is a contin- 
 gency only ? " 
 
 " Yes, that's all." 
 
 The philosopher spread out his hands. 
 
 "My dear young lady," he said, "it be- 
 comes a question of degree. How probable 
 or improbable is it ? "
 
 348 COMEDIES OF COURTSHIP 
 
 " I don't know. Not very probable — un- 
 less — unless " 
 
 "Well?" 
 
 " Unless he did happen to notice, you 
 know." 
 
 "Ah, yes. We supposed that, if he 
 thought of it, he would probably take the 
 desired step — at least, that he might be led 
 to do so. Could she not — er — indicate her 
 preference ? " 
 
 "She might try — no, she couldn't do 
 much. You see, he — he doesn't think about 
 such things." 
 
 " I understand precisely. And it seems 
 to me, Miss May, that in that very fact we 
 find our solution." 
 
 " Do we ? " she asked. 
 
 "I think so. He has evidently no natu- 
 ral inclination towards her — perhaps not 
 towards marriage at all. Any feeling 
 aroused in him would be necessarily shal- 
 low and in a measure artificial — and in all 
 likelihood purely temporary. Moreover, if 
 she took steps to arouse his attention, one 
 of two things would be likely to happen. 
 Are you following me ? " 
 
 " Yes, Mr. Jerningham."
 
 THE PHILOSOPHER 349 
 
 " Either he would be repelled by her over- 
 tures — which you must admit is not improb- 
 able — and then the position would be un- 
 pleasant, and even degrading-, for her. Or 
 on the other hand he might, through a mis- 
 placed feeling of gallantry " 
 
 " Through what ? " 
 
 " Through a mistaken idea of politeness, 
 or a mistaken view of what was kind, allow 
 himself to be drawn into a connection for 
 which he had no genuine liking. You agree 
 with me that one or other of these things 
 would be likely ? " 
 
 " Yes, I suppose they would, unless he did 
 come to care for her." 
 
 "Ah, you return to that hypothesis. I 
 think it's an extremely fanciful one. No. 
 She needn't marry A, but she must let B 
 alone." 
 
 The philosopher closed his book, took off 
 his glasses, wiped them, replaced them, and 
 leaned back against the trunk of the apple 
 tree. The girl picked a dandelion in pieces. 
 After a long pause she asked, 
 
 " You think B's feelings wouldn't be at all 
 likely to — to change ? " 
 
 " That depends on the sort of man he is.
 
 350 COMEDIES OF COURTSHIP 
 
 But if he is an able man, with intellectual 
 interests which engross him — a man who 
 has chosen his path in life — a man to whom 
 women's society is not a necessity " 
 
 " He's just like that," said the girl, and 
 she bit the head off a daisy. 
 
 " Then," said the philosopher, " I see not 
 the least reason for supposing that his feel- 
 ings will change." 
 
 " And would you advise her to marry the 
 other— A ? " 
 
 " Well, on the whole, I should. A is a 
 good fellow (I think we made A a good fel- 
 low) : he is a suitable match, his love for 
 her is true and genuine " 
 
 " It's tremendous ! " 
 
 " Yes — and — er — extreme. She likes him. 
 There is every reason to hope that her liking 
 will develop into a sufficiently deep and 
 stable affection. She will get rid of her 
 folly about B and make A a good wife. 
 Yes, Miss May, if I were the author of your 
 novel, I should make her marry A, and I 
 should call that a happy ending." 
 
 A silence followed. It was broken by the 
 philosopher. 
 
 " Is that all you wanted my opinion about,
 
 THE PHILOSOPHER 351 
 
 Miss May ? " lie asked, with liis finger be- 
 tween the leaves of the treatise on ontology. 
 " Yes, I think so. I hope I haven't bored 
 
 you?" 
 
 "I've enjoyed the discussion extremely. 
 I had no idea that novels raised points of 
 such psychological interest. I must find 
 time to read one." 
 
 The girl had shifted her position till, 
 instead of her full face, her profile was 
 turned towards him. Looking away tow- 
 ards the paddock that lay brilliant in sun- 
 shine on the skirts of the apple orchard, she 
 asked, in low slow tones, twisting her hands 
 in her lap, 
 
 " Don't you think that perhaps if B found 
 out afterwards — when she had married A, 
 you know — that she had cared for him so 
 very, very much, he might be a little sorry ? " 
 
 " If he were a gentleman, he would regret 
 it deeply." 
 
 " I mean — sorry on his own account ; that 
 — that he had thrown away all that, you 
 know?" 
 
 The philosopher looked meditative. 
 
 " I think," he pronounced, " that it is very 
 possible he would. I can well imagine it."
 
 352 COMEDIES OF COURTSHIP 
 
 "He might never find anybody to love 
 him like that again," she said, gazing on 
 the gleaming paddock. 
 
 " He probably would not," agreed the 
 philosopher. 
 
 " And — and most people like being loved, 
 don't they ? " 
 
 " To crave for love is an almost universal 
 instinct, Miss May." 
 
 "Yes, almost," she said, with a dreary 
 little smile. " You see, he'll get old and — ■ 
 and have no one to look after him." 
 
 " He will." 
 
 " And no home." 
 
 " "Well, in a sense, none," corrected the 
 philosopher, smiling. " But really you'll 
 frighten me. I'm a bachelor myself, you 
 know, Miss May." 
 
 " Yes," she whispered just audibly. 
 
 " And all your terrors are before me." 
 
 " Well, unless " 
 
 " Oh, we needn't have that ' unless,' " 
 laughed the philosopher cheerfully. 
 " There's no ' unless ' about it, Miss May." 
 
 The girl jumped to her feet ; for an in- 
 stant she looked at the philosopher. She 
 opened her lips as if to speak, and, at the
 
 THE PHILOSOPHER 353 
 
 thought of what lay at her tongue's tip, 
 her face grew red. But the philosopher 
 was gazing past her, and his eyes rested 
 in calm contemplation on the gleaming 
 paddock. 
 
 " A beautiful thing, sunshine, to be sure," 
 said he. 
 
 Her blush faded away into paleness ; 
 her lips closed. Without speaking she 
 turned and walked slowly away, her head 
 drooping. The philosopher heard the 
 rustle of her skirt in the long grass of the 
 orchard ; he watched her for a few mo- 
 ments. 
 
 " A pretty, graceful creature," said he 
 with a smile. Then he opened his book, 
 took his pencil in his hand, and slipped 
 in a careful forefinger to mark the fly-leaf. 
 
 The sun had passed mid-heaven, and be- 
 gan to decline westwards before he finished 
 the book. Then he stretched himself and 
 looked at his watch. 
 
 " Good gracious, two o'clock ! I shall be 
 late for lunch ! " and he hurried to his feet. 
 
 He was very late for lunch. 
 
 "Everything's cold," wailed his hostess. 
 " Where have you been, Mr. Jerningham ? " 
 23
 
 354 COMEDIES OF COURTSHIP 
 
 " Only in the orchard — reading." 
 
 " And you've missed May ! " 
 
 " Missed Miss May ? How do you mean? 
 I had a long talk with her this morning- — a 
 most interesting- talk." 
 
 " But you weren't here to say good-by. 
 Now, you don't mean to say that you forgot 
 that she was leaving by the two o'clock 
 train ? What a man you are ! " 
 
 " Dear me ! To think of my forgetting 
 it ! " said the philosopher shamefacedly. 
 
 " She told me to say good-by to you for 
 her." 
 
 " She's very kind. I can't forgive my- 
 self." 
 
 His hostess looked at him for a moment ; 
 then she sighed, and smiled, and sighed 
 again. 
 
 " Have you everything you want ? " she 
 asked. 
 
 " Everything, thank you," said he, sitting 
 down opposite the cheese, and propping his 
 book (he thought he would just run through 
 the last chapter again) against the loaf ; 
 " everything in the world that I want, 
 thanks." 
 
 His hostess did not tell him that the girl
 
 THE PHILOSOPHER 355 
 
 had come in from the apple orchard, and 
 run hastily upstairs, lest her friend should 
 see what her friend did see in her eyes. So 
 that he had no suspicion at all that he had 
 received an offer of marriage — and refused 
 it. And he did not refer to anything- of that 
 sort when he paused once in his reading- and 
 exclaimed, 
 
 " I'm really sorry I missed Miss May. 
 That was an interesting case of hers. But I 
 gave the right answer. The girl ought to 
 marry A." 
 
 And so the girl did.
 
 THE DECREE OF DUKE 
 DEODONATO
 
 THE DECREE OF DUKE 
 DEODONATO 
 
 " IT is a most anxious thing to be an abso- 
 
 1 lute ruler," said Duke Deodonato, " but 
 I have made up my mind. The Doctor has 
 convinced me (here Dr. Fusbius, Ph.D., 
 bowed very low) that marriage is the best, 
 noblest, wholesomest, and happiest of human 
 conditions." 
 
 "Your Highness will remember " be- 
 gan the President of the Council. 
 
 " My lord, I have made up my mind," 
 said Duke Deodonato. 
 
 Thus speaking, the Duke took a large 
 sheet of foolscap paper, and wrote rapidly 
 for a moment or two. 
 
 " There," he said, pushing the paper over 
 to the President, " is the decree." 
 
 " The decree, sir ? " 
 
 " I think three weeks afford ample space," 
 said Duke Deodonato.
 
 360 COMEDIES OF COURTSHIP 
 
 " Three weeks, sir ? " 
 
 " For every man over twenty-one years of 
 age in this Duchy to find himself a wife." 
 
 " Your Highness," observed Dr. Fusbius 
 with deference, " will consider that between 
 an abstract proposition and a practical 
 measure " 
 
 " There is to the logical mind no stopping- 
 place," interrupted Duke Deodonato. 
 
 " But, sir," cried the President, " imagine 
 the consternation which this !" 
 
 "Let it be gazetted to-night," said Duke 
 Deodonato. 
 
 " I would venture," said the President, 
 "to remind your Highness that you are 
 yourself a bachelor." 
 
 " Laws," said Duke Deodonato, " do not 
 bind the Crown unless the Crown is ex- 
 pressly mentioned." 
 
 " True, sir ; but I humbly conceive that it 
 would be pessimi exempli " 
 
 " You are right ; I will marry myself," 
 said Duke Deodonato. 
 
 "But, sir, three weeks! The hand of a 
 princess cannot be requested and granted 
 in " 
 
 " Then find me somebody else," said Deo-
 
 DUKE DEODONATO 361 
 
 donato ; " and pray leave me. I would be 
 alone ; " and Duke Deodonato waved his 
 hand to the door. 
 
 Outside the door the President said to the 
 Doctor, 
 
 " I could wish, sir, that you had not con- 
 vinced his Highness." 
 
 " My lord," rejoined the Doctor, " truth is 
 my only preoccupation." 
 
 " Sir," said the President, " are you mar- 
 ried ? " 
 
 " My lord," answered the Doctor, " I am 
 not." 
 
 " I thought not," said the President, as he 
 folded up the decree, and put it in his 
 pocket. 
 
 It is useless to deny that Duke Deodo- 
 nato's decree caused considerable disturb- 
 ance in the Duchy. In the first place, the 
 Crown lawyers raised a puzzle of law. Did 
 the word " man " as used in the decree, in- 
 clude " woman ? " The President shook his 
 head, and referred the question to his High- 
 ness. 
 
 " It seems immaterial," observed the Duke. 
 " If a man marries, a woman marries." 
 
 " Ex vi terminorum" assented the Doctor.
 
 362 COMEDIES OF COURTSHIP 
 
 " But, sir," said the President, " there are 
 more women than men in the Duchy." 
 
 Duke Deodonato threw down his pen. 
 " This is very provoking-," said he. "Why 
 was it allowed ? I'm sure it happened be- 
 fore / came to the throne." 
 
 The Doctor was about to point out that it 
 could hardly have been guarded against, 
 when the President (who was a better cour- 
 tier) anticipated him. 
 
 " We did not foresee that your Highness, 
 in your Highness's wisdom, would issue this 
 decree," he said humbly. 
 
 " True," said Duke Deodonato, who was a 
 just man. 
 
 " Would your Highness vouchsafe any ex- 
 planation ? " 
 
 " What are the Judges for ? " asked Duke 
 Deodonato. " There is the law — let them 
 interpret it." 
 
 Whereupon the Judges held that a " man " 
 was not a " woman," and that although 
 every man must many, no woman need. 
 
 " It will make no difference," said the 
 President. 
 
 " None at all," said Dr. Fusbius. 
 
 Nor, perhaps, would it, seeing that women
 
 DUKE DEODONATO 3G3 
 
 are ever kind, and in no way by nature 
 averse from marriage, had it not become 
 known that Duke Deodonato himself in- 
 tended to choose a wife from the ladies of 
 his own dominions, and to choose her (ac- 
 cording- to the advice of Dr. Fusbius, who, 
 in truth, saw little whither his counsel would 
 in the end carry the Duke) without regard to 
 such adventitious matters as rank or wealth, 
 and purely for her beauty, talent, and virtue. 
 AYhich resolve being proclaimed, straight- 
 way all the ladies of the Duchy, of whatso- 
 ever station, calling, age, appearance, wit, 
 or character, conceiving each of them that 
 she, and no other, should become the Duch- 
 ess, sturdily refused all offers of marriage 
 (although they were many of them as des- 
 perately enamored as virtuous ladies may 
 be), and did nought else than walk, drive, 
 ride, and display their charms in the park 
 before the windows of the ducal palace. 
 And thus it fell out that when a week had 
 gone by, no man had obeyed Duke Deodo- 
 nato's decree, and they were, from sheer 
 want of brides, like to fall into contempt of 
 the law and under the high displeasure of 
 the Duke.
 
 304 COMEDIES OF COURTSHIP 
 
 Upon this the President and Dr. Fusbius 
 sought audience of his Highness, and hum- 
 bly laid before him the unforeseen obstacle 
 which had occurred. 
 
 " Woman is ever ambitious," said Dr. 
 Fusbius. 
 
 " Nay," corrected the President, " they 
 have seen his Highness's jierson as his 
 Highness has ridden through the city." 
 
 Duke Deodonato threw down his pen. 
 
 " This is very tiresome," said he, knitting 
 his brows. " My lord, I would be further 
 advised on this matter. Return at the same 
 hour to-morrow." 
 
 The next day, Duke Deodonato's forehead 
 had regained its customary smoothness, and 
 his manner was tranquil and assured. 
 
 " Our pleasure is," said he to the Presi- 
 dent, " that, albeit no woman shall be com- 
 pelled to marry if so be that she be not in- 
 vited thereunto ; yet, if bidden, she shall in 
 no wise refuse, but straightway espouse that 
 man who first after the date of these pres- 
 ents shall solicit her hand." 
 
 The President bowed in admiration. 
 
 " It is, if I may humbly say so, a practical 
 and wise solution, sir," he said.
 
 DUKE DEODONATO 365 
 
 "I apprehend that it will remedy the 
 mischief," said Duke Deodonato, not ill- 
 pleased. 
 
 And doubtless it would have had an effect 
 as altogether satisfactory, excellent, bene- 
 ficial, salutary, and universal as the wisdom 
 of Duke Deodonato had anticipated from it, 
 had it not fallen out that, on the promulga- 
 tion of the decree, all the aforesaid ladies of 
 the Duchy, of whatsoever station, calling, 
 age, appearance, wit, or character, straight- 
 way, and so swiftly that no man had time 
 wherein to pay his court to them, fled to 
 and shut and bottled and barricaded them- 
 selves in houses, castles, cupboards, cellars, 
 stables, lofts, churches, chapels, chests, and 
 every other kind of receptacle whatsoever, 
 and there remained beyond reach of any 
 man, be he whom he would, lest haply one, 
 coming, should ask their hand in marriage, 
 and thus they should lose all prospect of 
 wedding the Duke. 
 
 When Duke Deodonato was apprised of 
 this lamentable action on the part of the 
 ladies of the Duchy, he frowned and laid 
 down his pen. 
 
 " This is very annoying," said he. " There
 
 366 COMEDIES OF COURTSHIP 
 
 appears to be a disposition to thwart Our 
 endeavors for the public good." 
 
 " It is gross contumacy," said Dr. Fus- 
 bius. 
 
 "Yet," remarked the President, " inspired 
 by a natural, if ill-disciplined, admiration 
 for his Highness's person." 
 
 " The decree is now a fortnight old," ob- 
 served Duke Deodonato. " Leave me, I 
 will consider further of this matter." 
 
 Now even as his Highness spoke a mighty 
 uproar arose under the palace windows, and 
 Duke Deodonato, looking out of the window 
 (which, be it remembered, but for the guid- 
 ance of Heaven he might not have done), 
 beheld a maiden of wonderful charms strug- 
 gling in the clutches of two halberdiers of 
 the guard, who were haling her off to prison. 
 
 " Bring hither that damsel," said Deodo- 
 nato. 
 
 Presently the damsel, still held by the 
 soldiers, entered the room. Her robe was 
 dishevelled and rent, her golden hair hung 
 loose on her shoulders, and her eyes were 
 full of tears. 
 
 "At whose suit is she arrested?" asked 
 Deodonato.
 
 DUKE DEODONATO 367 
 
 " At the suit of the most learned Dr. Fus- 
 bius, may it please your Highness." 
 
 " Sir," said Dr. Fusbius, " it is true. This 
 lady, grossly contemning 1 your Highness's 
 decree, has refused my hand in marriage." 
 
 " Is it true, damsel ? " asked Duke Deodo- 
 nato. 
 
 "Hear me, your Highness!" answered 
 she. " I left my dwelling but an instant, for 
 we were in sore straits for " 
 
 " Bread ? " asked Deodonato, a touch of 
 sympathy in his voice. 
 
 " May it please your Highness, no — pins 
 wherewith to fasten our hair. And, as I ran 
 to the merchant's, this aged man " 
 
 " I am but turned of fifty," interrupted 
 Fusbius. 
 
 "And have not yet learnt silence? " asked 
 Deodonato severely. " Damsel, proceed ! " 
 
 "Caught me by my gown as I ran and " 
 
 "I proposed marriage to her," said Fus- 
 bius. 
 
 " Nay, if you proposed marriage, she shall 
 marry you," said Deodonato. " By the crown 
 of my fathers, she shall marry you. But 
 what said he, damsel ? " 
 
 " May it please your Highness, he said
 
 368 COMEDIES OF COURTSHIP 
 
 that I had the prettiest face in all the 
 Duchy, and that he would have no wife but 
 me ; and thereupon he kissed me ; and I 
 would have none of him, and I struck him 
 and escaped." 
 
 "Send for the Judges," said Duke Deo- 
 donato. " And meanwhile keep this damsel 
 and let no man propose marriage to her un- 
 til Our pleasure be known." 
 
 Now when the Judges were come, and the 
 maiden was brought in and set over against 
 them on the right hand, and the learned 
 Doctor took his stand on the left, Deodonato 
 prayed the Judges that they would perpend 
 carefully and anxiously of the question — 
 using all lore, research, wisdom, discretion, 
 and justice — whether Dr. Fusbius had pro- 
 posed marriage unto the maiden or no. 
 
 " Thus shalt Our mind be informed, and 
 we shall deal profitably with this matter," 
 concluded Duke Deodonato. 
 
 Upon which arose great debate. For 
 there was one part of the learned men which 
 leant upon the letter and found no invi- 
 tation to marriage in the words of Dr. Fus- 
 bius ; while another part would have it 
 that in all things the spirit and mind of
 
 DUKE DEODONATO 369 
 
 the utterer must be regarded, and that it 
 sorted not with the years, virtues, learning-, 
 and position of the said most learned Doc- 
 tor to suppose that he had spoken such 
 words and sealed the same with a kiss, save 
 under the firm impression, thought, and 
 conviction that he was offering his hand in 
 marriage ; which said impression, thought, 
 and conviction were fully and reasonably 
 declared and evident in his actions, manner, 
 bearing, air, and conduct. 
 
 "This is very perplexing," said Duke 
 Deodonato, and he knit his brows ; for as he 
 gazed upon the beauty of the damsel, it 
 seemed to him a thing unnatural, undesira- 
 ble, unpalatable, unpleasant, and unendura- 
 ble, that she should wed Dr. Fusbius. Yet 
 if such were the law — Duke Deodonato 
 sighed, and he glanced at the damsel : and 
 it chanced that the damsel glanced at Duke 
 Deodonato, and, seeing that he was a proper 
 man and comely, and that his eye spoke his 
 admiration of her, she blushed ; and her 
 cheek that had gone white when those of 
 the Judges who favored the learned Doctor 
 were speaking, went red as a rose again, 
 and she strove to order her hair and to con- 
 24
 
 370 COMEDIES OF COURTSHIP 
 
 oeal the rent that was in her robe. And 
 Duke Deodonato sighed again. 
 
 "My Lord," he said to the President, 
 " we have heard these wise and erudite men ; 
 and, forasmuch as the matter is difficult, 
 they are divided among themselves, and the 
 staff whereon we leant is broken. Speak, 
 therefore, your mind." 
 
 Then the President of the Council looked 
 earnestly at Duke Deodonato, but the Duke 
 veiled his face with his hand. 
 
 " Answer truly," said he, " without fear or 
 favor ; so shall you fulfil Our pleasure." 
 
 And the President, looking round upon 
 the company, said : 
 
 " It is, Your Highness, by all reasonable, 
 honest, just, proper, and honorable intend- 
 ment, as good, sound, full, and explicit an 
 offer of marriage as hath ever been had in 
 this Duchy." 
 
 " So be it," said Duke Deodonato ; and 
 Dr. Fusbius smiled in triumph, while the 
 maiden grew pale again. 
 
 " And," pursued the President, " it binds, 
 controls, and rules every man, woman, and 
 child in these Your Highness's dominions, 
 and hath the force of law over all."
 
 DUKE DEODONATO 371 
 
 " So be it," said Deodonato again. 
 
 "Saving," added the President, "Your 
 Highness only." 
 
 There was a movement among the com- 
 pany. 
 
 "For," pursued the President, "by the 
 ancient laws, customs, manners, and ob- 
 servances of the Duchy, no decree or law 
 shall in any way whatsoever impair, alter, 
 lessen, or derogate from the high rights, 
 powers, and prerogatives of Your Highness, 
 whom may Heaven long preserve. Although, 
 therefore, it be, by and pursuant to Your 
 Highness's decree, the sure right of every 
 man in this Duchy to be accepted in mar- 
 riage of any damsel whom he shall invite 
 thereunto, yet is this right in all respects 
 subject to and controlled by the natural, le- 
 gal, inalienable, unalterable, and sovereign 
 prerogative of Your Highness to marry what 
 damsel soever it shall be Your pleasure to 
 bid share your throne. Hence I, in obedi- 
 ence to Your Highness's commands, pro- 
 nounce and declare that this damsel is law- 
 fully and irrevocably bound and affianced 
 to the learned Dr. Fusbius, unless and until 
 it shall please Your Highness yourself to de-
 
 WT1 COMEDIES OF COURTSHIP 
 
 mand her band in marriage. May what I 
 have spokes please Your Highness." And 
 1,1m President sat down. 
 
 Duke Deodonato Bat awhile in thought, 
 and there was silenoe is the boll. Thes 
 
 Jin Hpokn : 
 
 "Let all withdraw, saving the damsel 
 
 only." 
 
 And they one and all withdrew, and Duke 
 Deodonato was left alone with the damsel. 
 
 Thes be arose and gazed long <>n the 
 damsel ; but the damsel would not look on 
 I hike I leodonato. 
 
 "How are you oalled, lady?" asked Duke 
 I )eodonato. 
 
 " I am oalled Duloissima," said slm. 
 
 "Wellnamed!" said Deodonato softly, 
 and 1 1 < ' wcid. to the damsel, and be Laid Inn 
 hand, full gently, <>n her robe, and be Baid, 
 
 " Duloissima, you have the prettiest face 
 in idl the Duohy, and I will have no wife 
 but youj" and Duke Deodonato kissed Hn> 
 damsel. 
 
 The damsel forbore !<> strike Duke Deo- 
 donato, hm hIio had struck Dr. Fusbius. 
 Again ber oheek went red, and again pale, 
 
 mid hIio Hiiid,
 
 LUKE DBODOU I TO 873 
 
 " 1 wed no in:in on compulsion." 
 
 " Madam, 1 am Your Sovereign," Bald 
 
 Duke Deodonato ; and biB eyes were on the 
 
 damsel. 
 "If you were an A.rohangel — 1" oried 
 
 the damsel. 
 
 " Our House is not wont io lie scorned of 
 
 Ladies," Baid Deodonato, "Am I orooked, 
 or baseborn, or a fool? " 
 
 "This day in your Duohy women are 
 slaves, and men their masters by your will," 
 said she. 
 
 " [t is the order of nature," Baid Deodonato. 
 
 " It is not my pleasure," said the damsel. 
 Then Deodonato laid his hand on his sil 
 vor hell, for he was very angry. 
 " FusbiuS wails without, " said he. 
 
 " I will wed him and kill him," oried Dul« 
 oissima. 
 I )eodonato gazed on her. 
 
 " foil had no ohanOB of Using 1 the pins," 
 said he, " and the pent in your gOWD is very 
 
 SOie." 
 
 And upon this the eyes of the damsel lost 
 their lire and SOUght Ihe lloor ; and she 
 
 pluoked at her girdle, and would not look on 
 
 Deodonato. And they said outside,
 
 374 COMEDIES OF COURTSHIP 
 
 " It is very still in the Hall of the Duke." 
 
 Then said Deodonato, 
 
 " Dulcissima, what would you ? " 
 
 " That you repeal your decrees," said she. 
 
 Deodonato's brow grew dark ; he did not 
 love to go back. 
 
 " "What I have decreed, I have decreed," 
 said he. 
 
 " And what I have resolved, I have re- 
 solved," said she. 
 
 Deodonato drew near to her. 
 
 " And if I repeal the decrees ? " said he. 
 
 " You will do well," said she. 
 
 , " And you will wed ? " 
 
 ► " Whom I will," said she. 
 
 Deodonato turned to the window, and for 
 a space he looked out ; and the damsel 
 smoothed her hair and drew her robe, where 
 it was whole, across the rent ; and she looked 
 on Deodonato as he stood, and her bosom 
 rose and fell. And she prayed a prayer 
 that no man heard or, if he heard, might be 
 so base as to tell. But she saw the dark 
 locks of Deodonato's hair and his form, 
 straight as an arrow and tall as a six-foot 
 wand, in the window. And again, outside, 
 they said,
 
 DUKE DEODONATO 375 
 
 " It is strangely still in the Hall of the 
 Duke." 
 
 Then Deodonato turned, and he pressed 
 with his hand on the silver bell, and straight- 
 way the Hall was filled with the Councillors, 
 the Judges, and the halberdiers, attentive to 
 hear the will of Deodonato and the fate of 
 the damsel. And the small eyes of Fusbius 
 glowed and the calm eyes of the President 
 smiled. 
 
 " My Cousins, Gentlemen, and my faithful 
 Guard," said Deodonato, "Time, which is 
 Heaven's mighty Instrument, brings counsel. 
 Say ! what the Duke has done, shall any 
 man undo ? " 
 
 Then cried they all, save one, 
 
 " No man ! " 
 
 And the President said, 
 
 " Saving the Duke." 
 
 " The decrees which I made," said Deo- 
 donato, " I unmake. Henceforth let men 
 and maidens in my Duchy marry or not 
 marry as they will, and God give them joy 
 of it." 
 
 And all, save Fusbius, cried "Amec" 
 But Fusbius cried, 
 
 " Your Highness, it is demonstrated be-
 
 376 COMEDIES OF COURTSHIP 
 
 yond cavil, ay, to the satisfaction of your 
 Highness •" 
 
 " This is very tedious," said Deodonato. 
 " Let him speak no more." 
 
 And again he drew near to Dulcissima, 
 and there, before them all, he fell on his 
 knee. And a murmur ran through the hall. 
 
 " Madam," said Deodonato, " if you love 
 me, wed me. And, if you love me not, de- 
 part in peace and in honor ; and I, Deodo- 
 nato, will live my life alone." 
 
 Then the damsel trembled, and barely did 
 Deodonato catch her words : 
 
 " There are many men here," said she. 
 
 " It is not given to Princes," said Deo- 
 donato, " to be alone. Nevertheless, if you 
 will, leave me alone." 
 
 And the damsel bent low, so that the 
 breath of her mouth stirred the hair on Deo- 
 donato's head, and he shivered as he knelt. 
 
 " My Prince and my King ! " said she. 
 
 And Deodonato shot to his feet, and before 
 them all he kissed her, and, turning, spoke : 
 
 " As I have wooed, let every man in this 
 Duchy woo. As I have won, let every man 
 that is worthy win. For, unless he so woo, 
 and unless he so win, vain is his wooing and
 
 DUKE DEODONATO 377 
 
 vain is his winning-, and a fig for his wed- 
 ding, say I, Deodonato ! I, that was Deo- 
 donato, and now am — Deodonato and Dul- 
 cissiina." 
 
 And a great cheer rang out in the Hall, 
 and Fusbius fled to the door ; and they tore 
 his gown as he went and cursed him for a 
 knave. But the President raised his voice 
 aloud and cried — 
 
 "May Heaven preserve your Highnesses 
 — and here's a blessing on all windows! " 
 
 And that is the reason why you will find 
 (if you travel there, as I trust you may, for 
 nowhere are the ladies fairer or the men so 
 gallant) more windows in the Duchy of De- 
 odonato than anywhere in the wide world 
 besides. For the more windows, the wider 
 the view ; and the wider the view, the more 
 pretty damsels do you see ; and the more 
 pretty damsels you see, the more jocund a 
 thing is life — and that is what the men of 
 the Duchy love — and not least Duke Deo- 
 donato, whom, with his bride Dulcissima, 
 may Heaven long preserve !
 
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