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 LIBRARY 
 
 THE UNIVERSITY 
 OF CALIFORNIA 
 
 SANTA BARBARA 
 
 FROH THE LIBRARY OF 
 MRS. H. RUSSELL AMORY 
 
 GIFT OF HER CHI LDREN 
 R. W. AND NINA PARTRIDGE,
 
 COLLECTION 
 
 OF 
 
 BRITISH AUTHORS 
 
 TAUCHNITZ EDITION. 
 VOL. 2G08. 
 
 MISS SHAFTO BY W. E. NORRIS. 
 
 IN TWO VOLUMES. 
 VOL. I.
 
 TAUCHNITZ EDITION. 
 By the same Author, 
 
 MY FRIEND JIM i vol. 
 
 A bachelor's blunder .... 2 vols. 
 
 SLAJOR AND MINOR 2 vols. 
 
 THE ROGUE 2 vols.
 
 MISS SHAFTO, 
 
 W. E. NORRIS, 
 
 AUTHOR OF 
 
 'MAJOR AND IVnNOR," "THE ROGUE," ETC. 
 COPYRIGHT EDITION, 
 
 IN TWO VOLUMES. 
 VOL. I. 
 
 LEIPZIG 
 
 BERNHARD TAUCHNITZ 
 
 l8 8q.
 
 pft 
 
 CONTENTS 
 OF VOLUME I. 
 
 Page 
 
 CHAPTER I. Baron Lammergeier's Cnish 7 
 
 — II. Miss Shafto's Father 22 
 
 — III. An unsuccessful Dinner 30 
 
 — IV. Friendly Crirics 42 
 
 — V. Mrs. Wilton's Nerves are shaken ... 55 
 
 — VI. At the Play 67 
 
 — VII. Norma has a bad Time of it 79 
 
 — VIII. Old Nell 90 
 
 — IX. Lord Walter buys a Box 104 
 
 — X. Lammergeier as an Orator 115 
 
 — XL At Lord's 126 
 
 — XII. Madge makes Amends 138 
 
 — XIII. Mrs. Lacy's BaU 150 
 
 — XIV. Lord Walter goes to seek his Fortune . . 162 
 
 — XV, Lord Walter is answered 174 
 
 — XVI. Norma sees two of her Friends . . . 185 
 
 — XVII. Happy Sir Christopher 197 
 
 — XVIII. Lord Loddondale makes a Suggestion . . 209
 
 6 CONTENTS OF VOLUME I. 
 
 Page 
 
 CHAPTER XIX. Madge's Husband 221 
 
 — XX. Mrs. Walter 233 
 
 — XXI. Lord AValter recovers his Sanity . . 243 
 
 — XXII. Basil Morley reveals a Secret , . . 254 
 
 — XXIII. Sir Christopher's Hvmting is stopped . 266 
 
 — XXIV. Charity 277
 
 MISS SHAFT O. 
 
 CHAPTER I. 
 BARON LAMMERGEIER'S CRUSH. 
 
 On a certain evening in the month of June, Baron 
 Lammergeier, M.P., and his wife gave one of those great 
 crushes for which they were renowned. Anybody, of 
 course, can give a crush; it is not a form of entertain- 
 ment which, as a general rule, demands any great 
 trouble or expenditure. But Baron Lammergeier, who 
 was exceptional in that he provided his guests ^\■ith a 
 magnificent supper and spent as much money upon 
 flowers and music when he gave an evening party as 
 when he gave a ball, was still more exceptional in regard 
 to the fact that he got people to go to his parties, and 
 was even pestered for invitations to the same. Highly 
 distinguished personages these were, too, some of them. 
 A few, being so very distinguished that they could 
 afford to tell the truth and please themselves, avowed 
 that they came for the sake of seeing the rooms, eating 
 the supper and hearing the music; others, less secure 
 of their position in the social scale, felt bound to give 
 explanations and excuses. "We dined with these people
 
 8 MISS SHAFTO. 
 
 last week," they would whisper to one another, "so we 
 thought we ought just to look in for a few minutes, you 
 know." 
 
 At all events, and whatever may have been their 
 motives, there they were in crowds. Grosvenor Place 
 was blocked with carriages; dukes, cabinet ministers, 
 foreign ambassadors, ecclesiastical dignitaries, jostled 
 one another upon the broad staircase, at the top of 
 which Mrs. Liimmergeier stood in all the glory of her 
 diamonds. Moreover, the jeitncsse dore'e was present in 
 great force, which was no slight social triumph; and 
 whether the 1874 Giesler, which was known to flow 
 without stint under the roof of the hospitable baron, 
 had or had not anything to do with the bringing of it 
 about is a matter of comparatively trifling importance. 
 
 Mrs. Lammergeier had been on duty for about an 
 hour and half when a tall young man with fair hair, 
 which curled tightly all over his head, and a closely- 
 trimmed beard, mounted the stairs and bowed to her. 
 He did not seem quite certain whether to offer her his 
 hand or not, but she held out hers, saying, "How do 
 you do. Lord Walter?" and added, after a moment's 
 pause, "Miss Shafto, let me introduce Lord Walter Sin- 
 clair. And will you take him away, please? He is 
 blocking up the gangway." 
 
 Lord Walter looked up and smiled. "Do we re- 
 quire an introduction, Miss Shafto?" he asked. "I'm 
 afraid it must be quite ten years since we last met; but 
 we used to be rather friends once upon a time. In 
 fact, I believe we even went so far as to break a six- 
 pence together when I was fourteen and you were 
 nine."
 
 BARON LAMMERGEIER S CRUSH. 9 
 
 "Dear me!" exclaimed the young lady whom he 
 addressed, extending her hand to him frankly; "and so 
 you are Waher Sinclair! You used to be such a parti- 
 cularly nice boy." 
 
 "You also, if I may be permitted to say so, were 
 rather particularly nice," observed Lord Walter gravely. 
 "I hope we have neither of us changed very much." 
 
 But of course they had both changed a great deal 
 in outward appearance, if in nothing else. As he 
 moved slowly towards the great drawing-room (the 
 saloon, Lammergeier preferred to call it), where the 
 Hungarian band was playing, he stole sidelong glances 
 at his companion and thought to himself, with some- 
 thing of a sigh, how inexorable Time is, and that even 
 full life and progress and development are but other 
 words for the death of past things. How well he re- 
 membered losing his heart to Norma Shafto when he 
 was a boy at Eton! That Avas in the happy old days 
 when his mother was alive, and when they always used 
 to spend Christmas at Warbury Park. Norma was a 
 jolly, merry little girl who used to try to follow the 
 hounds on her Shetland pony; or, if a hard frost came, 
 he used to skate with her upon the lake at Brampton 
 Priory. She had the most beautiful golden hair that 
 ever was seen, and such eyes! Well, the eyes, to be 
 sure, were as blue as ever, and if their lashes had 
 lengthened and deepened in colour, that was doubtless 
 an improvement; but the hair had changed to brown, 
 though there were still some golden threads in it. And 
 what a tall woman she had become! The truth is that 
 Miss Shafto was just a little bit too tall. Certainly she 
 carried herself well, and she was undeniably beautiful
 
 lO MISS SHAFTO. 
 
 and striking-looking, and if one had met her for the 
 first time one would not have thought of finding fault 
 with her height or with anything else about her; but 
 Lord Walter could not help being rather annoyed with 
 her for bearing so very little resemblance to his child 
 sweetheart. However, this hostile attitude of his be- 
 came greatly modified before he had been talking to 
 her for five minutes. The child Norma, it was true, 
 was dead and gone; but then, for the matter of that, 
 so was the boy Walter; and the man Walter could not 
 but acknowledge the charm of Miss Shafto's gracious 
 and kindly presence. 
 
 "And what have you been doing with yourself all 
 these years?" she asked. "Somebody — I think it must 
 have been Miss Travers — told me that you were an 
 artist. Is that true?" 
 
 "Well, it is near enough," he answered. "I am a 
 sculptor by trade — and a poor sort of trade I have 
 found it, so far." 
 
 "But perhaps you haven't got very far yet," Miss 
 Shafto suggested. "At any rate, you must be glad to 
 have an occupation, and it isn't as if you were obliged 
 to work for your living." 
 
 "I assure you I am," answered Lord Walter. "At 
 least, I shall find myself very much pinched if I don't. 
 Our host is a patron of art, I am told. Perhaps he 
 may purchase one of my works some fine day, if I be- 
 have nicely to him. Not that it is very easy to behave 
 nicely to him." 
 
 "He certainly is not particularly attractive," re- 
 marked Miss Shafto in a meditative tone.
 
 BARON LAMMERGEIER S CRUSH. I I 
 
 "He is the most offensive little beast that I knoAv," 
 said Lord Walter tranquilly. 
 
 "Then why do you come to his house?" 
 
 "Quite so; there is no answer to rebukes of that 
 kind. All the same, I fancy that if you were to put 
 every man in this room upon his oath, you wouldn't 
 find as large a proportion as five per cent, who would 
 dare to describe their host in any other way. Theore- 
 tically, one has no business to eat a man's salt and 
 then say nasty things about him; but practically he gets 
 his quid pro quo. He doesn't ask us here because he 
 loves us, you know, and you might repeat what I said 
 just now to him without preventing liim from in\dting 
 me to his next crush. I am of no great value; a younger 
 son who is practically a pauper doesn't count for much. 
 But I imagine that Lammergeier would cheerfully con- 
 sent to be kicked by a duke, and that he would submit 
 to anything short of decapitation at the hands of a 
 royal highness. As far as we have gone, I think I may 
 say that he and I are about quits. I have had to shake 
 hands with him; but, to set against that, I have met 
 you; and there is the possibility of his giving me an 
 order when my talents dawn upon him." 
 
 If Lord Walter had known a little more of Miss 
 Shafto, he would have been surprised at her not taking 
 up the cudgels on Baron Lammergeier's behalf, for 
 there was nothing that she disliked more than to hear 
 any man spoken ill of behind his back. On this oc- 
 casion, however, she remained silent for some seconds. 
 She and her companion had found a little recess with 
 an unoccupied sofa, and had seated themselves there. 
 Presently she resumed: "I hope you don't really
 
 12 MISS SHAFTO. 
 
 mean that you are a pauper. I can't see why you 
 should be." 
 
 Lord Walter laughed. "Oh, that was a figure of 
 speech," he answered. "My father left me something. 
 Not as much as he used to allow me during his life- 
 time, though. So I can't afford to be an idle man," 
 
 "But I always thought he was so very rich. You 
 did not quarrel with him, did you? I was half afraid 
 when I saw you here this evening that there might 
 have been something of the kind." 
 
 "Why? Oh, I see; you thought I ought not to be 
 going into society so soon after my father's death. 
 Well, I don't know; people don't shut themselves up 
 nowadays; and, after all, one's personal grief isn't 
 affected one way or the other by seeing one's fellow- 
 creatures. No, there never was any quarrel between 
 the dear old man and me, only he wasn't as rich as 
 he was supposed to be. That is, he hadn't a great 
 deal of ready money, and heavy claims were made 
 upon him of late years, and every stick and stone of 
 his property was entailed. He left me what he could." 
 
 The subject was not pursued further. It was no- 
 torious that the late Marquis of Loddondale had found 
 the present one a very expensive person to maintain, 
 and that there had been little love lost between the 
 father and son. Miss Shafto may have been cognizant 
 of both circumstances, and may have thought, as a 
 great many other people did, that it was a pity Lord 
 Walter had not come into existence a year or two 
 earlier. After a time she said, "I suppose you are not 
 likely to be much in our part of the world again 
 now?"
 
 BARON LAMMERGEIER S CRUSH. I3 
 
 The young man shook his head. "I'm afraid not; 
 though possibly I might run down for a day or two 
 sometimes, for I should think Loddondale would spend 
 a part of the year at Warbury. My father, you know, 
 took a dislike to the place after my mother died." 
 
 "I shall be glad if your brother decides to inhabit 
 Warbury again," said Miss Shafto meditatively. "When 
 properties change hands, there is always a danger of 
 subscriptions to the schools and the cottage hospital and 
 so forth dropping off; but if Lord Loddondale is upon 
 the spot, he will see for himself how much poverty 
 there is all round him; and indeed we can ill afford 
 to lose our subscribers. As it is we have great diffi- 
 culty in keeping things going, because everybody com- 
 plains of having no money. If I meet your brother, 
 the first thing I shall do will be to beg of him." 
 
 A sudden smile passed across Lord Walter's face: 
 the suggestion appeared to tickle him. But he only 
 answered a little drily, "I doubt whether you will 
 meet him; Loddondale doesn't go out into society. 
 But," he added presently, "I hope / shall meet you 
 again before long. When do you go home?" 
 
 "I wish I knew!" the girl replied, sighing. "Per- 
 haps we may never go home again. My father wants 
 to let Brampton for a term of years." 
 
 "To let Brampton! You don't mean that! Why, 
 I thought Mr. Shafto was as firmly rooted to the soil as 
 one of his own oaks." 
 
 "Well, oaks are sometimes uprooted, you know. 
 When farmers can't pay their rents landlords must 
 suffer. My father says — and I am sure he is quite 
 right — that it is much better to change one's style of
 
 14 MISS SHAFTO. 
 
 living altogether than to attempt to go on in the old 
 way after one has lost nearly the half of one's income." 
 
 This was so reasonable and sensible a view to take 
 of the situation that Lord Walter could find nothing to 
 urge against it. He only said, "It seems a great pity; 
 but I suppose there's no help for it. What shall you 
 do, then? Do you think of living in London?" 
 
 "Yes, I believe so," the girl answered. "We have 
 taken a house in Upper Belgrave Street, and if a tenant 
 is discovered for Brampton, we shall set about remov- 
 ing our household gods. Fortunately, my father is 
 very cheerful about it, and rather likes the idea of a 
 town life." 
 
 "But what about yourself?" Lord Walter inquired. 
 "This will be a painful change for you, won't it? I 
 have heard about you from time to time through old 
 Nell Travers, though you don't appear to have asked 
 any questions about me, and old Nell describes you as 
 a sort of guardian angel to the entire neighbourhood. 
 It is a law of nature that one should love those whom 
 one has benefited, so I suppose you will be sorry to be 
 parted from the poor of Brampton." 
 
 Miss Shafto's face clouded over, and she made no 
 reply for some seconds. When she did open her lips 
 it was to remark, "There are plenty of poor in London 
 too." 
 
 "Oh, then it isn't the individuals whom you care 
 for; it's the fact of their poverty that interests you." 
 
 "Of course," answered the girl, after a moment of 
 reflection, "that is what makes them interesting; but I 
 do care for the individuals too." 
 
 "Then," said Lord Walter, with much presence of
 
 BARON LAMMERGEIER S CRUSH. I 5 
 
 mind, "I may for the first time congratulate myself 
 upon being a pauper." 
 
 ^Vhat rejoinder Miss Shafto would have made to a 
 speech which its author upon subsequent reflection felt 
 to have been somewhat silly, must remain a matter of 
 conjecture; for at this moment the interview was broken 
 in upon by a little faded, middle-aged woman, clad in 
 black velvet and diamonds, who said plaintively, "Oh, 
 how do you do. Norma? I have been looking every- 
 where for some friendly face; but I could discover 
 nobody in this horrid crowd, and I have been jostled 
 and pushed until all the breath has been knocked out 
 of my body. I wish I hadn't come ! " 
 
 "How do you do, Mrs. Wilton?" returned Norma. 
 "Where is Madge?" 
 
 "Madge is at home in an execrable temper," an- 
 swered the elder lady, who was evidently smarting 
 under a strong sense of injury. "At the last moment 
 she declared she had a headache and went off to bed. 
 Isn't that just like Madge? "WTiy I was such an idiot 
 as to come here without her I can't think; and I am 
 literally fainting with hunger, and I haven't the courage 
 to force my way into the supper-room all alone and 
 ask for food. Couldn't you pilot me down. Norma? 
 You are big enough to take care of us both, I'm sure." 
 
 Miss Shafto laughed. "Perhaps the servants would 
 pay more respect to a gentleman," said she. "Let me 
 introduce Lord Walter Sinclair, who, I know, will be 
 delighted to get you something to eat. Lord Walter 
 and I were playfellows long ago, when his father used 
 sometimes to be at Warbury Park; but that was before 
 you came to our neighbourhood, I think."
 
 l6 MISS SHAFTO. 
 
 Lord Walter resigned himself to the force of cir- 
 cumstances. He was not best pleased; but he put a 
 good face upon a bad business and offered his arm to 
 Mrs. Wilton, who unhesitatingly clutched it. Perhaps 
 the parting smile with which Miss Shafto rewarded 
 him may have helped him to do his duty with some 
 show of alacrity. 
 
 Later in the evening, when he regained his liberty, 
 he sought that companion of his childhood once more, 
 but without success. Instead of her, he encountered 
 his hostess, who said somewhat abruptly, "Well; how is 
 Elizabeth of Hungary getting on?" 
 
 The young man raised his eyebrows, for his ac- 
 quaintance with Mrs. Lammergeier was but a slight 
 one, and he was a good deal surprised by her question. 
 "Thank you," he replied gravely, "Elizabeth of Hun- 
 gary is getting on as well as can be expected — which 
 is not very well. May I venture to ask how you come 
 to know anything about her?" 
 
 Mrs. Lammergeier made a half turn, so as to face 
 him, kicked out her train and laughed. "I had the 
 honour and pleasure of sitting beside you at dinner a 
 few weeks ago," she answered. "You told me that 
 you were a sculptor and that the work upon which you 
 were engaged was a representation of Elizabeth of 
 Hungary. I didn't know who she was at the time; 
 but I looked her out in the jEncyclopsedia when I got 
 home, and I thought to myself that you would make 
 a mess of your subject. I wasn't very far wrong, it 
 seems." 
 
 "You were quite right," answered Lord Walter; "I
 
 BARON LAMMERGEIER'S CRUSH. I7 
 
 am making a mess of it. I don't know why you should 
 have foreseen that, though." 
 
 "It wasn't such a very difficuh thing to foresee. 
 I should imagine that there would be some preliminary 
 trouble in the matter of costume. The back view, for 
 instance, would be apt to be a trifle ridiculous. Then 
 of course you would represent her holding her basket 
 of loaves which have just been miraculously converted 
 into roses; so that your representation would require 
 an explanation, which I should think would be a serious 
 drawback. The ignorant spectator would see nothing 
 in your work except a mediaeval flower-girl of saintly 
 demeanour, and the combination might strike him as a 
 shade grotesque." 
 
 "You are a very severe critic, Mrs. Lammergeier," 
 remarked Lord Walter, whose smile betrayed some in- 
 ward annoyance. 
 
 "I was only telling you why I expected you to fail. 
 After all, it doesn't greatly signify whether you fail or 
 succeed, I suppose. One pities a professional who has 
 wasted his time, because in that case loss of time 
 means loss of bread and butter; but an amateur has 
 as much bread and butter as he can eat and more 
 time than he knows how to employ." 
 
 "Well, I am not an amateur, at any rate," returned 
 the young man. "I suppose I mustn't venture to call 
 myself a professional yet; but I hope to become one, 
 and I shall be very much disappointed if my profession 
 doesn't bring me in a little more bread and butter." 
 
 "Really?" said Mrs. Lammergeier, with a quick 
 glance at her neighbour. "Then let me strongly ad- 
 vise you to go in for busts. I am convinced that that 
 
 Miss Siia/to. /. 2
 
 I 8 MISS SHAFTO. 
 
 is the most lucrative thing. Why not do a bust of 
 Hermann? He would be sure to pay handsomely, and 
 the subject would be a pleasing one." 
 
 The above colloquy had been by no means con- 
 tinuous. Mrs. Lammergeier had been repeatedly inter- 
 rupted, and more than once her interlocutor would 
 have passed on, leaving the field free for others, if she 
 had not laid a detaining hand upon his arm. He 
 paused now, feeling doubtful whether she was laughing 
 at him or at her husband or at both of them, and he 
 h;id not yet thought of a rejoinder which should be at 
 once polite and snubbing (for it struck him that a 
 gentle snub would do this free-spoken woman no harm), 
 when she turned away and left him. 
 
 He knew very little of his entertainers, and, as he 
 had frankly informed Miss Shafto, the little that he did 
 know had not prepossessed him in their favour. They 
 were, however, people who had of late become very 
 generally known, and at whose house, as has already 
 been said, distinguished personages did not hesitate to 
 show themselves. Now, it might have been thought 
 that a little black-a-vised Jew of doubtful nationality 
 and untraceable origin would have been satisfied A\ath 
 such a company as was assembled under his roof on 
 the evening in question; but Baron Lammergeier was 
 not satisfied, and perhaps if he had been the kind of 
 man to content himself with anything short of the very 
 best that could be procured, he would not have been 
 where he was. The company which he was wont to 
 entertain, though good enough for most of us, was not 
 quite the very best imaginable, for it included no 
 royalties and was likewise denied the countenance of
 
 I3AR0N LAMMERGEIERS CRUSH. IQ 
 
 a few of those rare and old-fashioned members of the 
 British aristocracy who do not care to be entertained 
 by persons unprovided with authentic great-grandfathers. 
 This vexed Lammergeier, because he felt it to be so 
 perfectly unreasonable. What in the world would they 
 have? he asked himself, with pardonable indignation. 
 When one is a sort of minor Rothschild, when one has 
 been educated at Eton and Oxford and is a naturalized 
 Englishman and represents a London constituency, be- 
 sides grudging neither 1874 Giesler nor strawberries in 
 January, nor anything else that the most exacting bon- 
 vivatit can desire to eat or drink, surely one is entitled 
 to expect the recognition of the highest in the land! 
 However as he was nothing if not persevering, and as 
 he possessed a fine belief in himself, he meant to have 
 that recognition sooner or later. And, to be sure, he 
 was still in some sense a new man. That is to say that, 
 although he had had a rich father and had never 
 lacked money, it was only of late years that he had 
 amassed the colossal fortune with which he was now 
 credited. 
 
 How Baron Lammergeier's wealth had been ac- 
 quired and what his precise avocations were only a 
 very few of his guests knew. Some said that he Avas a 
 banker and had had extensive dealings with continental 
 governments — indeed, it was noticeable that the re- 
 presentatives of foreign nations were remarkably civil 
 to him — but for the most part his friends were content 
 to describe him as "the great City man, don't you 
 know," which definition was doubtless accurate enough 
 for all ordinary intents and purposes. In person Baron 
 Lammergeier could scarcely be called pleasing. He
 
 20 MISS SHAPTO. 
 
 was a short, stout man, with a hooked nose (through 
 which he talked), a waxed moustache, a double chin, 
 and a pair of glittering little eyes. His hair, which 
 was coal-black and very thick, he wore cut close to 
 his head. His age at this time was about forty, but 
 his rotund figure and the deep horizontal lines upon 
 his forehead made him look older. There were people 
 who thought his manners pleasant, and there were 
 others who held a different opinion. It is difficult to 
 speak positively upon a question which is so much one 
 of taste; but at any rate there can be little doubt but 
 that he meant his manners to be pleasant. He had 
 been for some years married to the daughter and sole 
 heiress of a deceased London banker, and it was 
 rumoured that her large fortune had been already 
 doubled by the astute manipulation of her husband. 
 
 Mrs. Lammergeier's manners did not at all resemble 
 those of her lord. It is probable that she also differed 
 from him in not caring particularly whether they were 
 pleasant or not. However, hke many other brusque 
 people, she conveyed the impression to those who were 
 brought into contact with her that she was honest. Her 
 visiting-cards bore the inscription of "Mrs. Lammer- 
 geier," and she preferred to be so addressed. "Her- 
 mann is really a baron, I believe," she would remark; 
 "but where he got his barony from is more than I can 
 tell you. Anyhow, it isn't an English one, so I don't 
 think I will use a coronet just at present." Plain- 
 featured and insignificant looking, her hair, eyes, and 
 complexion being all of varying shades of the same 
 whitey-brown hue, she nevertheless presented a suf- 
 ficiently imposing appearance when arrayed for the
 
 BARON LAMMERGEIER S CRUSH. 2 1 
 
 evening. Perhaps her dressmaker knew how to make 
 the best of her; perhaps the size and number of her 
 diamonds would have made anybody look imposing. 
 It should be added however that she had that perfect 
 ease and aplomb which one occasionally encounters in 
 the most unexpected quarters, and sometimes misses 
 where one would naturally look to find it. By the few 
 who knew her well she was considered to be a shrewd 
 observer, and perhaps a casual remark which she made 
 in the course of the evening to one of these few in- 
 timates may be taken as affording some testimony to 
 the accuracy of their estimate. 
 
 "I have seen just two persons in this crowd who 
 have interested me," said she. "One is a young lady 
 who goes in for practical philanthropy, and the other is 
 a sprig of nobility who is going in for art. What is 
 singular is that the young lady is an optimist and the 
 artist is a pessimist. To be sure, they neither of them 
 know what they are, so one can't hold them responsible 
 for their views."
 
 2 2 MISS SHAFTO, 
 
 CHAPTER II. 
 
 MISS SHAFTO'S FATHER. 
 
 While Miss Shafto had been renewing acquaintance 
 with Lord Walter Sinclair, there might have been seen, 
 wandering restlessly about the crowded rooms, a tall, 
 silver-haired old man, whose features bore so strong a 
 family likeness to hers that any one Avho did not 
 already know him to be her father would at once have 
 divined the relationship. 
 
 He might almost have been her grandfather, so 
 much older was he than she, and she was in fact by 
 many years the youngest of his children, as well as the 
 only survivor of them. The loss of his wife and of 
 three sons may have added to or deepened the lines 
 which Time had drawn upon Mr. Shafto's face; yet it 
 was by no means the face of an unhappy man. Since 
 it resembled his daughter's, it was of course a hand- 
 some face; but closer examination showed that it dif- 
 fered from hers in one or two important particulars, 
 notably in the set of the mouth, which betokened irre- 
 solution and irritability, whereas the curve of hers was 
 as yet unspoiled. Any physician who had been called 
 in to attend Mr. Shafto would have seen at a glance 
 that his patient had a highly-strung nervous organiza- 
 tion, and would probably have prescribed bread pills 
 with perfect confidence in results. The forehead was
 
 MISS SHAFTO'S FATHER. 2^ 
 
 broad and lofty, the brows arched, the blue eyes wide 
 open and somewhat eager in expression; but the jaw 
 was defective, and the lower lip inclined to be tremulous 
 at times. Mr. Shafto belonged to that order of beings 
 whose perceptions are keen and whose emotions are 
 easily excited, but who lack stability. He had been 
 broken-hearted when his wife died; he had been broken- 
 hearted when his two healthy schoolboys were carried 
 off, one after the other, by scarlet fever; he had been 
 broken-hearted when his eldest son and heir was taken 
 from him in early manhood, after a far from satisfactory 
 career. But in each and all of these cases the fracture 
 had been found to be reparable. 
 
 At the present time, owing to agricultural depression, 
 he was a comparatively poor man, after having been a 
 comparatively rich one — a state of things so intolerable 
 to one of his generous and careless temper that, instead 
 of submitting to it, he had determined to turn his back 
 upon it. For such an alternative there is always some- 
 thing to be said; but there is very little to be said in 
 favour of the scheme which now occupied IVIr. Shafto's 
 sanguine brain — that, namely, of replenishing his empty 
 coffers by the buying and selling of speculative securities. 
 Baron Lammergeier, it was reported, had realized an 
 enormous fortune by no other means; but then Baron 
 Lammergeier was not precisely an every-day individual, 
 nor were his methods of operating such as could be 
 safely emulated by an inexperienced country gentle- 
 man. Mr. Shafto, however, had resolved to emulate 
 them in a humble way, and what was more, he counted 
 upon Lammergeier to assist him in so doing. He had, 
 or thought he had, claims upon the good- will of the
 
 24 MISS SHAFTO. 
 
 millionaire which the latter, for his part, had never been 
 slow to ackiiowledge. Lammergeier, as has been already 
 mentioned, had been educated at Eton and Oxford, and 
 at both of these places of learning he had been intimate 
 with young Tom Shafto. The true story of Tom Shafto's 
 short life had never been revealed to his father. That 
 he had, unfortunately, become imbued with a taste for 
 backing horses, and that he had, still more unfortunately, 
 taken to drinking and other forms of dissipation — these 
 things were avowed by the culprit himself and notorious 
 to all who knew him. But the precise nature of his 
 transactions with Lammergeier had not been made so 
 clear. On three several occasions his father had had 
 to pay up sums varying from two to three thousand 
 pounds for him, and on his deathbed the young man 
 declared that Lammergeier had had all the money. 
 Moreover, he stated that he still owed two thousand in 
 the same quarter, and called Lammergeier an infernal 
 thief. But, after all, he was half delirious when he 
 said these things, and Lammergeier behaved very well 
 in the matter. He absolutely refused to take the two 
 thousand pounds which Mr. Shafto offered to him after 
 poor Tom had been laid in his grave. He acknow- 
 ledged that he had from time to time made advances 
 to his deceased friend, but these, he said, had been 
 repaid with interest, and he doubted whether anything 
 more was due to him. In any case, he would not ac- 
 cept more. Did Mr. Shafto take him for a money- 
 lender? he asked, with some indignation. 
 
 Out of these somewhat unpromising circumstances 
 a friendship had sprung up between the country squire 
 and the Jewish financier which had not ceased when
 
 MISS SHAFTO'S FATHER. 2$ 
 
 the latter attained that high position in the commercial 
 and social world which he occupied at the time selected 
 for the opening of this narrative. 
 
 It was therefore not unnatural that, in taking up 
 what might probably prove to be a permanent residence 
 in London, Mr. Shafto should have been willing to ac- 
 cept the hospitality of the wealthy denizens of the house 
 in Grosvenor Place; and on this evening he had been 
 especially anxious to do so, because he wanted very 
 much to put a few questions to his host upon matters 
 of business. 
 
 "Have you seen Lammergeier anywhere?" he kept 
 asking of the friends and acquaintances who stopped 
 him as he elbowed his way through the rooms. He 
 had a great many acquaintances, and nearly all of them 
 might have been described as his friends. Everybody 
 liked Mr. Shafto, because he liked and took an interest 
 in everybody, or at any rate seemed to do so. 
 
 At length, standing beneath the awning on the 
 balcony, he came upon the object of his search, who 
 was engaged in earnest conversation with the sallow 
 envoy of a South American Republic. Mr. Shafto paused, 
 not wishing to interrupt a colloquy of international im- 
 portance; but Lammergeier, who may have been willing 
 to be interrupted, at once made him a sign of recognition, 
 and shook off his diplomatic friend, saying, "Vous voyez 
 bien, mon cher Ministre, qu'il me faudra reflechir avant 
 de vous donner une reponse definitive." 
 
 Then he stepped out of the balcony into the room, 
 holding out a fat hand. "My dear Mr. Shafto," said 
 he, "you are the very man whom I wanted to see." 
 
 "How are you, Lammergeier?" returned Mr. Shafto,
 
 2 6 MISS SHAFTO. 
 
 heartily. "I wanted to see you too. About those 
 shares " 
 
 "To be sure, my dear friend, to be sure! What 
 shares?" 
 
 "The Rio Cuzco mining shares, you know." 
 
 "Ah, you hold Rio Cuzcos?" 
 
 "Why, you advised me to buy them. Don't you 
 remember?" 
 
 "Did I indeed? Very likely — very likely! Well, 
 now I advise you to sell." 
 
 "But, my dear Lammergeier," said Mr. Shafto, 
 looking a little blue, "if I do that, I shall lose half my 
 principal." 
 
 Lammergeier shrugged his shoulders. "Better to 
 lose the half than the whole, perhaps. But make your 
 mind easy, Mr. Shafto; I will see that you are not a 
 loser. What was the amount of your original venture? 
 Five thousand!- — six thousand?" 
 
 "Oh dear, no! only a thousand. Still you under- 
 stand " 
 
 "Ah, bah! I will give you a thousand for your 
 shares to-morrow. It is I who am responsible; and after 
 all, the speculation may yet prove a paying one. Pray 
 do not protest or think of thanking me; there is quite 
 a good chance that I shall have the best of the bargain 
 in the long run." 
 
 Anybody who knew Baron Lammergeier would have 
 been prepared to agree with him as to that probability; 
 but perhaps Mr. Shafto did not know him very well, 
 and it certainly sounded generous to offer a thousand 
 pounds for shares which would barely have fetched five 
 hundred in the open market. The old gentleman ac-
 
 MISS SHAFTO S FA1"HER. 27 
 
 cordingly did protest until Lammergeier, laughing, stuffed 
 his fingers into his ears and said, "Now, now! I will 
 not listen any more. I want you to listen to me in- 
 stead. Tell me, have you yet found a tenant for 
 Brampton Priory?" 
 
 Mr. Shafto shook his head. "Not I! We haven't 
 had so much as a nibble yet. The agents declare that 
 they can't let country houses for a term of years in 
 these days. People take a place for six months, they 
 say, and then get sick of it and go off somewhere else." 
 
 "Well," said Lammergeier, "I think I know a man 
 who would be quite inclined to take Brampton for three 
 years, with option of renewal for seven." 
 
 "The deuce you do! Would he agree to my terms, 
 I wonder? Who is he?" 
 
 "Sir Christopher Shearman — you may have heard 
 of him. His father was made a baronet because he 
 was an ironmaster. At least, I have been told that that 
 was the reason; but as his father is dead and buried, 
 it don't signify. Christopher is a very rich man, and 
 he is anxious to settle in Stourshire. I don't think 
 there would be any difficulty about terms if he fancied 
 the place." 
 
 "Anxious to settle in the county, is he? But why? 
 — what's his reason for that?" asked Mr. Shafto inqui- 
 sitively. 
 
 "That I can't tell you for certain; but between our- 
 selves, I fancy that he has thoughts of contesting the 
 southern division when a vacancy occurs. In the Con- 
 servative interest, of course; I should never think of re- 
 commending a Radical tenant to you." 
 
 Baron Lammergeier was a staunch Tory, and had
 
 28 MISS SHAFTO. 
 
 high notions with regard to the destiny of the Empire 
 which could not boast the honour of having produced 
 him. 
 
 "Oh, well," said Mr. Shafto, who perhaps felt that 
 he could afford to be more tolerant, "so long as the man 
 paid his rent, I shouldn't bother my head much about 
 his politics. Is he here this evening by any chance?" 
 
 Baron Lammergeier believed that he was, and added 
 that he would be enchanted to make two such good 
 friends of his known to one another. 
 
 A few minutes later his two good friends were 
 shaking hands. Sir Christopher Shearman was a short, 
 thickset, broad-shouldered man, with a somewhat florid 
 complexion. His hair and beard were of a lightish 
 brown hue, the former having a few grey threads in it 
 and having become rather thin upon the top of his 
 head. He had a hearty, jovial sort of manner, tem- 
 pered by a suspicion of shyness. He fidgeted about a 
 good deal while he talked and was apparently averse 
 to looking straight at the person to whom he was 
 talking. 
 
 "As far as I could judge from a distant view, your 
 place would suit me down to the ground, Mr. Shafto," 
 said he. "Perhaps you'll authorize me to make a visit 
 of inspection, and then we'll leave the rest to the 
 agents, eh?" 
 
 "Quite so," agreed Mr. Shafto. "By all means, in- 
 spect Brampton any day that may suit you, and if 
 you'll kindly let me know when you think of running 
 down, I'll see that luncheon shall be ready for you. I 
 think you would like our neighbourhood. You would 
 find plenty of pleasant people within easy reach, and
 
 MISS SHAFTO'S FATHER. 2g 
 
 there's always something or other going on. You're a 
 married man of course?" 
 
 " Oh no," answered Sir Christopher, laughing a httle, 
 "I ain't a married man yet. The fact is that I haven't 
 an acre or a stone to call my own, except a little shoot- 
 ing-box, and a man can't very well marry until he has 
 a house to take his wife to, can he?" 
 
 The obvious inference was that Sir Christopher con- 
 templated matrimony at an early date. This, however, 
 was no business of Mr. Shafto's, who changed the sub- 
 ject, and was gratified to learn that his intending tenant 
 was a keen sportsman. "If hunting and shooting are 
 what you want," he declared, "I can promise you plenty 
 of both in Stourshire. I don't say that either is ab- 
 solutely first rate; but when one finds the two things 
 together, one hardly expects that." 
 
 Sir Christopher gave it to be understood that he 
 would be satisfied with something short of a combina- 
 tion of Norfolk and Leicestershire, and Mr. Shafto went 
 off in high good humour to seek his daughter. 
 
 Having found her, he lost no time in letting her 
 hear his news. 
 
 "What do you think, Norma? I really believe I've 
 got a tenant for Brampton. A very good fellow he 
 seems to be. Fond of sport and as rich as Croesus, 
 Lammergeier says. Sir Christopher Shearman — did you 
 ever hear of him?" 
 
 "Yes, I have heard of him," answered Norma, after 
 considering for a moment; "Mrs. Wilton was speaking 
 about him the other day." 
 
 "Oh, Mrs. Wilton knows him, does she? That's all 
 right; then he'll have friends close at hand to start
 
 30 MISS SH,\FTO. 
 
 with. Thai's capital. Now, Norma, what do you say 
 to going home? Have you had enough of this?" 
 
 Miss Shafto had had quite enough of it, and ex- 
 pressed her wilhngness to depart. If in her heart she 
 had harboured a half-acknowledged hope that Brampton 
 Priory might not be let, after all, and that she and her 
 father might be compelled to return thither, she was 
 very properly ashamed of her selfishness and allowed 
 no indication of disappointment to appear upon her 
 face. 
 
 CHAPTER III. 
 AN UNSUCCESSFUL DINNER. 
 
 One afternoon, a day or two after the Lammergeier 
 entertainment. Norma Shafto was busily engaged in ad- 
 dressing and stamping envelopes when Lord Walter 
 Sinclair was announced. 
 
 "I'm afraid I am interrupting you," he said, as she 
 rose from her writing-table. "Are you sending out in- 
 vitations for a ball?" 
 
 "Oh no," she answered, laughing; "we don't at- 
 tempt balls, I am thankful to say. We haven't suffi- 
 cient space for that, and I am not sure that we have 
 a sufficiently large acquaintance either. These missives 
 are directed, for the most part, to people whom I have 
 never seen." 
 
 The table was covered with lithographed half-sheets 
 of paper, one of which Lord Walter took the liberty of 
 examining. He drew down the comers of his mouth
 
 AN UNSUCCESSFUL DINNER. 3 I 
 
 and raised his eyebrows a little as he perused it. "Do 
 you go in for this kind of thing?" he inquired. 
 
 "I have begun to go in for it during the last few 
 weeks. Why do you look as if you disapproved?" 
 
 "I don't disapprove," answered Lord Walter; "I 
 have no right to disapprove. It's very good and very 
 kind of you and your friends. Only it isn't of the very 
 slightest use, you know." 
 
 The paper which he held in his hand conveyed an 
 appeal to the benevolent to assist, either by money 
 contributions or by personal effort, in providing innocent 
 recreation for the inhabitants of a poor district of 
 London. 
 
 "But I don't know anything of the sort," Miss 
 Shafto declared. "To amuse these people for an even- 
 ing and to keep them out of the public-houses is of 
 some use, surely." 
 
 "Not much, I'm afraid. What is the matter with 
 John Smith isn't that he is in want of amusement, but 
 that he is in want of work, and consequently in want 
 of food and clothing. I doubt whether your recreation- 
 rooms will make him forget his troubles. And gin is 
 cheap." 
 
 "It isn't cheap if you spend all your spare money 
 upon it. Besides you take no account of John Smith's 
 wife and children." 
 
 "What business has he with a wife and children?" 
 
 "I don't know, but there they are." 
 
 "Yes; and if the worst comes to the worst, the 
 ratepayers will presei-ve them from death by hunger. 
 More than that neither the ratepayers nor anybody else 
 can do. The evil is in the constitution of society, and
 
 32 MISS SHAFTO. 
 
 all the pretty modern palliatives are doomed to failure. 
 One of these days we shall have a revolution, I sup- 
 pose , and some of us will probably be shot or hanged ; 
 though I have never been able to see why we are to 
 blame." 
 
 Miss Shafto looked grave, and reflected for a few 
 seconds. "I know something about the agricultural 
 poor," she said presently; "I don't know much about 
 large towns. But if there is really no cure for all this 
 misery — and I am by no means convinced yet that 
 there is none — palliatives, as you call them, are at 
 least better than utter indifference. We aren't so 
 ambitious as you seem to think; but we do what little 
 we can." 
 
 Lord Walter had at one time examined into the 
 social problems arising out of excess of population, 
 over-crowding, competition, drunkenness and the like, 
 and had read a great many Blue Books bearing upon 
 these subjects. The conclusion at which he had ar- 
 rived was a disheartening one, and it made him im- 
 patient of the futile panaceas of well-meaning persons. 
 Nevertheless, he admired Miss Shafto for engaging in 
 a kindly work — or else he admired the work because 
 Miss Shafto was engaged in it. Possibly, if she had 
 been a sour- faced old maid, with a pair of spectacles 
 and a dowdy gown, he would have changed the sub- 
 ject; but as it was, a five-pound note was withdrawn 
 from his pocket and placed in the young lady's white 
 palm. 
 
 "I'll do likewise," said he; "I'll do what little I 
 can." 
 
 Whereupon Miss Shafto pointed out to him that,
 
 AN UNSUCCESSFUL DINNER. ^:^ 
 
 although five-pound notes were all very well and they 
 were much indebted to him for his generosity, that was 
 not quite all that he could do towards helping his less 
 fortunate fellow-creatures. "Why shouldn't you come 
 and talk to them?" she asked. "You could tell them 
 all sorts of things about art Avhich would be sure to in- 
 terest them." 
 
 "Now, Miss Shafto, do you really beheve that they 
 would thank me for offering them a stone, even though 
 it should have been chiselled by Michael Angelo, when 
 what they ask for is bread? I can understand that a 
 comic song might be welcome as a diversion; but un- 
 fortunately I can't sing comic songs." 
 
 "No," said the girl, laughing, "you don't look as 
 if you could. But I believe there are others who can 
 and do." 
 
 She was proceeding to give some details as to the 
 various methods by which it was proposed to enlarge 
 the intellectual and moral range of the masses, when 
 she was interrupted by the entrance of her father, who 
 came into the room, talking hurriedly and disjointedly, 
 as was his wont, though there was seldom any necessity 
 for him to be in a hurry. 
 
 "Now, Norma dear, if you can spare me a cup of 
 tea I shall be grateful. Such a day! Business of one 
 kind or another from breakfast-time until now, except 
 for just an hour about two o'clock, when Lammergeier 
 kindly insisted upon giving me some luncheon. Hullo! 
 who's this? Oh! Lord Walter Sinclair, isn't it? Very 
 glad to see you. Your father and I used to be great 
 alUes once upon a time. You have taken up sculpture 
 as an occupation, Norma tells me. Happy man to be 
 
 Miss Shafto. I, 3
 
 34 MISS SHAFTO. 
 
 able to do it! Perhaps you'll let me look in at your 
 studio one of these days. Nobody is more fond of art 
 than I am, though I don't pretend to know much 
 about it." 
 
 In spite of this modest disclaimer, Mr. Shafto did 
 know something about art, and he managed to say 
 what he knew in such a manner as to please and in- 
 terest his hearer; which — considering that the latter 
 had been disposed to set him down as an unmitigated 
 bore — showed that he himself was a somewhat artful 
 person. "I wish," he said, after a time, "you would 
 stay and dine with us. Mrs. Wilton and her daughter 
 are coming, and Sir Christopher Shearman, who pro- 
 poses to be my tenant at Brampton. But of course 
 you're engaged." 
 
 As a matter of fact Lord Walter was engaged, and 
 he was not one of those unscrupulous persons who 
 think nothing of sending an excuse to their would-be 
 entertainers when it is far too late to find substitutes 
 for them. Nevertheless he answered, "Thank you, Mr. 
 Shafto. I can't very well stay as I am; but if you will 
 allow me to go home and dress, I should like very 
 much to dine with you." 
 
 Now Mr. Shafto was a very nice old gentleman 
 and had an extremely pleasant manner; but the in- 
 ducement of dining in his company would perhaps 
 hardly have sufficed in itself to make Lord Walter 
 throw over an older friend, as well as one who would 
 have been likely to give him a much better dinner. 
 The little that he had seen of Mrs. Wilton had not 
 greatly prepossessed him in favour of that lady, and of 
 Sir Christopher Shearman he neither knew nor wanted
 
 AN UNSUCCESSFUL DINNER. 
 
 00 
 
 to know anything at all. It seemed pretty clear there- 
 fore that Miss Shafto must be responsible for the breach 
 of courtesy which he proposed to commit; and while 
 he was dressing he said to himself, with a slight laugh, 
 that he supposed she was. The reason why he laughed 
 was that he considered himself quite the reverse of an 
 impressionable man, and it struck him as funny that he 
 should be putting himself at all out of the way for the 
 sake of any young woman in the world. 
 
 Yet when he returned to Upper Belgrave Street and 
 was received by Miss Shafto, who was the only oc- 
 cupant of the drawing-room, he came to the conclusion 
 that it was not, after all, so very funny that he should 
 be interested in her; for certainly she was unlike any 
 of the other young women whom he had previously en- 
 countered in the world, and if he had persuaded him- 
 self that her philanthropy differed from the futile and 
 short-sighted philanthropy which has become a part of 
 modern fashionable life, that was perhaps excusable on 
 his part, seeing how very handsome she was. Just as 
 he was about to resume the discussion which her father 
 had cut short in the afternoon, Mrs. Wilton was an- 
 nounced. Horizontal wrinkles were visible upon Mrs. 
 Wilton's brow; the corners of her mouth were drawn 
 down distressfully, and her first words intimated that 
 she was not less aggrieved than she had been on the 
 night of Baron Lammergeier's reception. Her grievance, 
 too, it appeared, was the same now as it had been 
 then. 
 
 "My dear Norma," she began, in her high, querulous 
 voice, "I am quite ashamed to show my face here 
 without Madge; but you know what Madge is! Not
 
 36 MISS SHAFTO. 
 
 until five o'clock this afternoon did she calmly inform 
 me that she had engaged herself to dine with Ethel 
 Langley and go to the theatre afterwards. I asked her 
 when she had made that engagement, and she said, 
 'Ages ago' — which, of course, was ridiculous. My 
 dear, when you have daughters of your own, let me 
 warn you and implore you not to spoil them by spar- 
 ing the rod while they are young. I know perfectly 
 well that it is entirely owing to my foolish indulgence 
 that I am treated as a mere zero by my children in 
 my — my middle age." 
 
 "I won't forget your advice, Mrs. Wilton," answered 
 Norma, laughing; "my children, if I ever have any, 
 shall be whipped before being sent to bed every night. 
 All the same, I can forgive Madge for preferring the 
 play to a dull little dinner with us." 
 
 "Well, you are very good-natured to say so, and to 
 be sure she can see you any day. It isn't her rude- 
 ness to you that annoys me; it's " Here Mrs. 
 
 Wilton came to an abrupt pause, and possibly she did 
 not complete her sentence quite as she had originally 
 intended when she added, "It's so disrespectful to Mr. 
 Shafto, you know." 
 
 "What is disrespectful to Mr. Shafto?" inquired 
 that gentleman, who now hurried into the room. "It's 
 very disrespectful of Mr. Shafto, I'm afraid, to come 
 downstairs after two of his guests have arrived. And 
 what has become of my friend Madge? Not knocked 
 up with her dissipations, I hope?" 
 
 On being informed at full length of the delinquencies 
 of the absent Madge, Mr. Shafto showed himself not 
 
 i
 
 AN UNSUCCESSFUL DINNER. 37 
 
 less lenient than his daughter, in spite of which Mrs. 
 Wilton continued to look dissatisfied. 
 
 Lord Walter, who had been languidly listening to 
 her and wishing that she would drop an uninteresting 
 topic, wondered at her persistent harping upon it until 
 the party was completed by the arrival of Sir Chris- 
 topher Shearman. Then he began to understand what 
 was the matter. 
 
 Sir Christopher was in many respects a child of 
 Nature. His features were wont to exhibit a ready and 
 faithful reflection of his emotions, and anything more 
 comical than his look of blank disappointment, after he 
 had eagerly scanned the room in search of somebody 
 who was not there, Lord Walter had seldom witnessed. 
 Not a little comical, too, was the precipitation with 
 which Mrs. Wilton explained to the new-comer how 
 vexed her daughter had been that a previous engage- 
 ment to a "tiresome cousin" had prevented her from 
 joining their friendly little gathering. Mrs. Wilton might 
 be an excellent mother, but she was obviously not the 
 most skilful of diplomatists. While she was pouring 
 forth her mendacious harangue, Lord Walter chanced 
 to catch Norma's eye, and smiled, receiving an answer- 
 ing smile, which however was at once repressed. 
 
 For his own part, he naturally did not care very 
 much whether Miss Wilton pleased herself or her 
 mother and Sir Christopher; but the results of selfish- 
 ness, like those of other vices, are far-reaching, and a 
 party composed of five persons frequently has reason 
 to deplore the lack of a sixth. Lord Walter did not 
 mind walking into the dining-room by himself, although 
 he was clearly entitled to take precedence of a baronet ;
 
 38 MISS SHAFTO. 
 
 but he did object very strongly to Miss Shafto's atten- 
 tion being monopolized by his supplanter, and this was 
 the more annoying because his supplanter's conduct at 
 the beginning of dinner was not such as to merit kind- 
 ness or consideration. Sir Christopher was both sulky 
 and rude. He said some fellows had asked him to 
 stay the night at Ascot, and he wished to goodness he 
 had done so, instead of hurrying back to London. Also 
 he made a very ugly face at the first entree and drop- 
 ped his fork ostentatiously after swallowing a mouthful 
 of it. By the time that he had twice yawned in an un- 
 disguised and offensive manner and had declared his 
 intention of getting to bed early for once. Lord Walter, 
 though not of a choleric temperament, was ready to 
 kick him out into the street. 
 
 But Miss Shafto submitted to all this discourtesy 
 with perfect good humour. She treated her guest very 
 much as if he had been a refractory child, ignoring his 
 petulance, patiently endeavouring to amuse him, and 
 lavighing with a very fair imitation of heartiness at the 
 feeble jokes which he began to crack after his second 
 glass of champagne. To Lord Walter it seemed strange 
 enough that she should take so much trouble about an 
 ill-conditioned fellow like that, but he supposed that 
 she must have her reasons, and it was plain that, so 
 far as immediate results were concerned, she had her 
 reward. Long before dinner was at an end Sir Chris- 
 topher's surliness had given place to a familiar and 
 somewhat noisy jocularity which one of his hearers 
 thought scarcely an improvement uj^on his former mood. 
 But that hearer was prejudiced and hard to please. 
 Miss Shafto appeared to be quite satisfied with her
 
 AN UNSUCCESSFUL DINNER. 39 
 
 handiwork. Having achieved so signal a success with 
 one of her neighbours, she was now able to bestOAv a 
 little more notice upon the other, and during the last 
 half-hour that he spent in the dining-room Lord Walter 
 could not fairly complain of being neglected. However, 
 anything like comfortable conversation was impossible 
 while Sir Christopher persisted in striking in with some 
 foolish and irrelevant observation every other minute. 
 There was evidently nothing for it but to await the de- 
 parture of that obnoxious personage. 
 
 This did not take place quite as early in the even- 
 ing as might have been expected and hoped; but at 
 eleven o'clock he jumped up and took leave of his 
 hostess, with whom he had for some time previously 
 been engaged in an earnest colloquy which Lord Walter 
 had not cared to interrupt. The latter dropped into 
 the vacant place as Sir Christopher disappeared through 
 the doorway. Mr. Shafto and Mrs. Wilton were busy 
 over a game of cribbage, so that he could put any 
 question he pleased to Norma without fear of being 
 overheard; and the question which it pleased him to 
 put was, "May I venture to ask why you were so kind 
 to that overgrown lout?" 
 
 "Well," she answered, "I am sorry for him." 
 
 "But why? He came here, I presume, to meet Miss 
 Wilton, and he didn't meet her. That, no doubt, was 
 a bore for him, but it didn't excuse his behaving like 
 a savage." 
 
 "I don't think he could help himself, poor fellow. 
 He told me just now that he was afraid he had been 
 very rude and that he Avas sorry for it. What more 
 could he say? I rather like people who can't conceal
 
 40 INUSS SHAFTO. 
 
 their feelings; it shows a sort of honesty, don't you 
 think so? You didn't mind my asking him to take me 
 down to dinner, I hope?" 
 
 "Not in the least," answered Lord Walter, smiling. 
 
 "I was sure you wouldn't, and I was sure he would 
 be very much put out if he were left to walk down- 
 stairs alone. Besides, if you insist on knowing the 
 whole truth, I am very anxious to keep upon good 
 terms with Sir Christopher Shearman, because he has 
 taken Brampton, and I want him to be kind to the poor 
 people in the neighbourhood." 
 
 "He doesn't look as if he had a very large supply 
 of the milk of human kindness in his composition; but 
 I trust you may be successful. Who and what is Miss 
 Wilton? And why did she refuse to come here and 
 meet the amiable Sir Christopher?" 
 
 Norma shrugged her shoulders slightly. "Madge 
 is Madge," she replied. "When you have seen her you 
 will be able to form your own opinion as to what 
 she is. What I fear she never will be is Lady Shear- 
 man." 
 
 "Do you mean to say that you would like her to 
 be Lady Shearman? Then of course she isn't a friend 
 of yours." 
 
 "She is a great friend of mine, and her mother 
 would like her to be Lady Shearman. I am not quite 
 sure whether I wish it or not; I think she might do 
 worse. But she will please herself, so it doesn't much 
 matter what anybody may wish. Let us talk about 
 something else. Have you a studio. Lord Walter? And 
 is it open to the inspection of humble admirers of art, 
 like my father and myself?"
 
 AN UNSUCCESSFUL DINNER. 4 I 
 
 "I shall be only too proud, Miss Shafto, if you will 
 deign to pay me a visit. I have nothing of my own 
 that is worthy of your notice, but I do possess a few 
 trifles by other people which you might care to look at. 
 Perhaps you would come to tea with me some afternoon. 
 Next Thursday, for instance?" 
 
 Norma consulted an engagement-book. "Yes," she 
 answered, "so far as I know, Thursday will suit us very 
 well. I will write you down for five o'clock." 
 
 Mr. Shafto, having finished his game of cribbage, 
 said he was sure he didn't know. "Thursday — h'ni! 
 I might or I might not be free. I think you had better 
 not make any arrangement, Norma." 
 
 But Mrs. Wilton, who, like Sir Christopher Shear- 
 man, may have felt that she had displayed her senti- 
 ments somewhat too openly in the earlier part of the 
 evening, and who may have desired to make amends 
 for her incivility, struck in with, "I shall be delighted 
 to chaperon you. Norma dear, if Lord A\'alter will kindly 
 extend his invitation to us. There is nothing that I 
 enjoy more than visiting studios." 
 
 So Lord Walter went away in pretty good spirits, 
 notwithstanding the fact that he had spent a somewhat 
 dull evening.
 
 MISS SHAFTO. 
 
 CHAPTER IV. 
 
 FRIEXDLV CRITICS. 
 
 Something might be said in favour of the law of 
 primogeniture; but it would be scarcely worth while to 
 say it, since everybody is agreed that the law \\dll be 
 abrogated ere long. In favour of the principle, which 
 may be expected to survive the law for a time, a certain 
 number of voices will doubtless also be raised; but 
 amongst these it is improbable that the voices of 
 younger sons will be loud or vehement. 
 
 To be the younger son of a marquis, to have been 
 brought up in the enjoyment of every luxury, and finally 
 to be left to fight your way through the world as best 
 you may, with a few hundreds a year for your portion, 
 is not, one must confess, an emdable lot, and one might 
 even go so far as to say that there is a certain taint of 
 injustice about it. Lord Walter Sinclair had been in 
 some respects more hardly used than younger sons 
 generally are; inasmuch as he had found himself, at 
 his father's death, in possession of an income smaller 
 than that which his father had been accustomed to 
 allow him. For this unpleasant state of affairs he did 
 not blame the late Lord Loddondale, who indeed had 
 been but little to blame in the matter; but he did 
 sometimes feel a slight sense of grievance against the 
 present holder of the title and estates, to whose ex-
 
 FRIENDLY CRITICS. 43 
 
 travagance the diminution in the paternal savings was 
 wholly and solely due. 
 
 Lord Walter, however, was not a greedy man, and 
 had acquired a certain measure of philosophy at the 
 expense of some loss of faith in human nature. He 
 had lived in the world (in the sense of having lived in 
 what is called "society") and had seen a good deal of 
 it, and had learnt to expect remarkably little of his 
 fellow-mortals. He was pretty well educated, his in- 
 clinations having led him to take advantage of such 
 opportunities as Eton and Oxford afford. He knew a great 
 deal more about art than most amateurs and as much 
 as a good many professionals. Quite recently he had 
 determined to adopt as a profession what he had at 
 first regarded merely as an amusement, and he was by 
 no means without hope of eventually making a sub- 
 stantial addition to his means by modelling clay. 
 
 "You'll have to work for your living, Walter, I fear," 
 old Lord Loddondale had said to him on his death-bed; 
 to which he had replied cjuite sincerely, that that would 
 be better than having just enough to live upon without 
 working. 
 
 He occupied a small, but very artistically furnished 
 dwelling in the neighbourhood of Holland Park, and his 
 studio was a commodious and well-lighted one. 
 
 Now it came to pass that he was standing in this 
 studio one afternoon, with his pipe in his mouth, gazing 
 despondently at the half-finished figure of Elizabeth of 
 Hungary, which Mrs. Lammergeier had so unmercifully 
 criticized, when an altogether unexpected visitor strolled 
 in, without having gone through the preliminary form 
 of knocking at the door. This was a small, natty-look-
 
 44 MISS SHAFTO, 
 
 ing man, who seemed to be about thirty years of age 
 and whose outward appearance was that of a stud-groom 
 out of place. His hair, which was of a reddish tinge, 
 was cropped close to his head; his face was clean- 
 shaven; he wore a white linen scarf with a horseshoe 
 pin in it, and had a cigar of large size in his mouth. 
 His features were insignificant, except in so far as that 
 his eyes had a keen and almost cunning expression and 
 that there was a determined set about his thin lips. 
 At a glance one would have perceived him to be a man 
 of whom it would be difficult to get the better; and 
 indeed that is a description of him in which he himself 
 would have cordially concurred. 
 
 "Thought I'd look you up, Walter," said he, seating 
 himself astride upon the nearest chair. "Hope I'm not 
 interrupting you." 
 
 "How are you, Warbury?" returned Lord Walter, 
 addressing his elder brother by the title which the latter 
 had until recently borne. "No; you're not interrupting 
 me at all. I've been hard at work all the morning, and 
 I think I shall have to wait until to-morrow before un- 
 doing what I have done." 
 
 "Is that the system you generally go upon?" asked ; 
 Lord Loddondale. "If so, I should think it might save 
 time and trouble to do no work at all. Who is the 
 young woman with the basket and the lame leg?" 
 
 "That settles it," said Lord Walter, laughing; "I 
 shall have to make a fresh start with her now. I knew 
 that left leg was all wrong; but I was trying to per- 
 suade myself that the defect was hardly perceptible. 
 However, if such a good judge of anatomy as you are
 
 FRIENDLY CRITICS. 45 
 
 pronounces Queen Elizabeth of Hungary lame, lame she 
 must be, and there's nothing for it but to obliterate her." 
 
 "My dear chap, there can't be the slightest question 
 about her lameness; she would come down on her head 
 if she tried to run a yard. I thought, of course, you 
 meant her to be lame. I don't know'" continued Lord 
 Loddondale meditatively, "that I ever heard of Queen 
 Elizabeth of Hungary. I've heard of Queen Elizabeth 
 of England." 
 
 "Yes; so have I. She was a different historical 
 character. Presumptuous as I am, I should hardly dare 
 to reproduce her ruff and hoop in marble." 
 
 "You wouldn't, eh? Marble's pretty expensive, I 
 suppose?" 
 
 "It isn't very cheap." 
 
 "So that I dare say it would cost you a hundred or 
 two to turn out a statue of that size. And then it 
 wouldn't be quite fifty to one that anybody would 
 buy it." 
 
 "No; the odds upon that event would certainly be 
 less." 
 
 "A good bit less, I expect. Might even be a shade 
 the other way. Well now, you know, Walter, if I were 
 you, I should drop this statuary business — I should 
 indeed. Why not go in for something rather less risky? 
 Wine, for instance, or timber. Those are things which 
 have to be supplied to the public every day, whereas 
 I'm blessed if I beheve that there can be any great 
 demand for statues, even for sound ones — which yours 
 ain't, it seems." 
 
 "Thank you very much for your advice," answered 
 Lord Walter gravely.
 
 46 MISS SHAFTO. 
 
 "I suppose that means, 'None of your beastly 
 cheek!' Well, I really don't mean to be cheeky, and 
 I wouldn't for the world deny that you can sculp or 
 sculpt, or whatever the proper word is, better than most 
 fellows. Only, you see, the question is, whether you 
 can make money by it." 
 
 "That," agreed Lord Walter, "is the question, no 
 doubt." 
 
 "And it don't look to me very much as if you could 
 or would; and I know you must be hardish up. Now, 
 I'll tell you what I came here for to-day, Walter; I 
 came to say to you fairly and squarely that if you 
 choose to get yourself into difficulties, you mustn't ex- 
 pect me to keep on pulling you out and starting you 
 off again." 
 
 Lord Walter reddened slightly. "It is very kind 
 and thoughtful of you to give me that warning," said 
 he; "but don't you think you might have waited until 
 I asked you to help me out of a difficulty?" 
 
 "Why, no; because then it would have been a little 
 too late. One can't let one's brother starve. At least, 
 I believe it isn't considered to be the right thing. I 
 like to know where I am and. let other people know 
 what they have to expect, that's all. And now that we 
 understand one another so far, I've got something more 
 to say which isn't quite so unpleasant. I quite admit, 
 Walter, that you have a strongish case against me. For the 
 first two or three years after I took to racing I had the very 
 worst luck that ever mortal man had; and the consequence ^ 
 was that the governor had to pay up a good lump of I 
 money for me which would otherwise have been in 
 your pocket at this moment. That's rough on you, and
 
 FRIENDLY CRITICS. 47 
 
 it isn't fair either. Now I'll tell you what I'll do with 
 you: it isn't much; but I can't see my way to doing 
 more. Mind you, a big rent-roll doesn't always mean 
 a big income, and as far as I can make out I shall have 
 precious little pocket-money left when all expenses are 
 paid. However, I'm ready to make you an allowance 
 of a thousand a year. I won't sign any paper or transfer 
 any capital to you; but a thousand a year you shall 
 have so long as I'm not broke myself; and though you 
 may tliink a verbal promise ain't worth much, I'm not 
 the sort of chap to go back from my word. Ask any- 
 body you like." 
 
 Lord Walter was a little touched and a good deal 
 amused. "My dear fellow," said he, "I know that 
 without requiring anybody else's testimony. But I would 
 rather not be put upon an allowance, thank you. I can 
 live upon what I have of my own; and even if art 
 doesn't bring me in money, I shall take good care that 
 it doesn't ruin me." 
 
 "Well," returned Lord Loddondale, with a jerk of 
 his shoulders, "don't say I didn't make you the offer, 
 that's all." He added, after a short pause, "And I 
 shall be quite willing to renew it whenever you please. 
 Of course it isn't for me to dictate especially as you 
 choose to be so independent; but really, you know" — 
 and here he shook his head very seriously — "this sculp- 
 ture trade isn't at all the sort of thing that's likely to 
 pay. What's the good of making everything in marble? 
 I should have thought terra-cotta would have answered 
 all the purpose." 
 
 "You are not exactly the person whom I should
 
 48 MISS SHAFTO. 
 
 have expected to hear preaching economy," Lord Waher 
 remarked, with a smile. 
 
 "You don't know much about me, then; that's all I 
 can say. Nothing venture nothing have, and there's 
 such a thing as being penny wise and pound foolish; 
 but I think a fellow who chucks his money away un- 
 necessarily is an ass. Now really, when you come to 
 consider what the price of marble is " 
 
 Here Lord Loddondale's harangue upon the applica- 
 tion of the principles of thrift to art was interrupted by 
 the entrance of his brother's servant, who announced 
 that Mrs. and Miss Wilton and Miss Shafto were in the 
 drawing-room. Thereupon the economist jumped up 
 hastily. 
 
 "Women, eh?" said he. "I'm off, then! Don't let 
 them in till I've had time to bolt. Good-bye, Walter. 
 See you again some time or other, I dare say." 
 
 It is neither unnatural nor unpardonable on the 
 part of a bachelor marquis with large estates to be 
 something of a woman-hater, and Lord Loddondale may 
 have had good reasons for shunning the society of 
 ladies. At all events, he always did so if he could. 
 On this occasion he was not pressed to do violence to 
 his inclinations, and Lord Walter, after allowing him a 
 minute to make good his escape, hastened to the draw- 
 ing-room to welcome his visitors. 
 
 Miss Shafto was the first to shake hands with him. 
 "I am afraid," said she, "you must have quite forgotten 
 that you asked us to come to tea to-day. We heard a 
 sound of flying footsteps just now which was painfully 
 suggestive of our having scared some friend of yours 
 out of the house."
 
 FRIENDLY CRITICS. 49 
 
 "That was only my brother," answered Lord Waher. 
 "He is of a retiring disposition. The tea and muffins 
 will be brought in in a minute to convince you that I 
 hadn't at all forgotten your kind promise." 
 
 Then Mrs. Wilton introduced her daughter, who 
 was a very small and very elegantly dressed young lady 
 with large dark eyes. She sat silently in her corner, 
 sipping the cup of tea which was presently handed to 
 her, and when her entertainer exhibited the half-dozen 
 or so of paintings by well-known modern artists and 
 the small but admirable collection of china, bronzes, 
 silver and inlaid work which he had been fortunate 
 enough to put together, found no more pertinent remark 
 to make about them than that they were "very pretty." 
 He concluded that she was rather shy and rather bored, 
 and wondered why she had come. 
 
 Norma Shafto was much more appreciative. She 
 could distinguish between old and comparatively modern 
 Satsuma, and knew that one does not pick up a speci- 
 men of genuine Luca della Robbia every day. Also 
 she was able to say in what the special merit of this 
 or that picture consisted. Such enlightened criticism 
 being entirely beyond the capacities of either of the 
 other ladies present, Lord Walter and Miss Shafto had 
 the conversation pretty much to themselves. 
 
 "Well," said the former at length, "I'm glad you 
 approve of my humble little show; but I suppose that, 
 according to your views, I am neglecting my duty as a 
 good citizen by spending money upon such unproduc- 
 tive objects." 
 
 "Are those my views?" she asked. "I didn't know 
 they were. I don't deny that if all these things be- 
 
 Afiss Shafto, /, 4
 
 50 MISS SHAFTO. 
 
 longed to me, I should probably sell them and devote 
 the proceeds to charitable purposes ; but that is because 
 my hobby doesn't happen to be the same as yours. I 
 dare say a great many good citizens surround them- 
 selves uith works of art." 
 
 Mrs. Wilton observed vaguely that she had read 
 somewhere — she couldn't at that moment recall where 
 — a most interesting paper which showed what non- 
 sense all that wild sort of talk was, you know, and that 
 the poorer classes wouldn't be in the least benefited, 
 but rather the reverse, if everybody's income were to 
 be expended solely upon the necessaries of life. How 
 this was proved she did not exactly recollect; but it 
 certainly zvas proved, because she had been quite con- 
 vinced by the reasoning of the writer. 
 
 "At any rate," said Norma, "I haven't indulged in 
 any such wild talk, that I know of; so that we shall be 
 able to get on quite comfortably without proofs of its 
 folly. Now, Lord Walter, we want to see your studio, 
 please." 
 
 She had an easy, unembarrassed way with her which 
 he was not quite certain whether he liked or not. How- 
 ever, he was as yet scarcely conscious of desiring any- 
 thing more than a perfectly frank and unbiased ex- 
 pression of Miss Shafto's opinion upon Elizabeth of 
 Hungary; and this he obtained the moment that he 
 asked for it. The leg which Lord Loddondale had 
 pronounced to be unsound did not attract her notice; 
 but she fastened unhesitatingly upon another and per- 
 haps a more serious defect. 
 
 "I think," she said, "that you have made your saint 
 too self-complacent. She looks as though she had just 
 
 III
 
 FRIENDLY CRITICS. 5 I 
 
 performed a successful conjuring-trick. Surely, if one 
 had fully intended to tell a lie and had found one's lie 
 miraculously converted into the truth, one would be a 
 little bit startled and dismayed." 
 
 Lord Walter laughed, though he was secretly mor- 
 tified. "Evidently," said he, "this work of art is like 
 Dr. Johnson's leg of mutton; it hasn't a single redeem- 
 ing point. It is bad in conception, bad in execution, 
 bad all through and all over. One consolation is that 
 I don't feel tempted to try and make it better. I must 
 give Queen Elizabeth of Hungary up and attempt to 
 portray somebody else." 
 
 "That would be the best plan, I should think," 
 agreed Norma, a little unfeelingly. 
 
 But Miss Wilton exclaimed, "Oh, what a pity!" 
 and added, with a sympathetic sigh, "It must be so 
 awfully difficult to hit upon a fresh idea!" 
 
 "It isn't easy," observed Lord Walter; "but perhaps 
 it is even less so to carry it out when you have hit 
 upon it." 
 
 "And do you really like cudgelling your brains in 
 this way? I can't understand how anybody can enjoy 
 taking unnecessary trouble." 
 
 Mrs. Wilton and Miss Shafto had moved away a 
 few paces and were examining some bas-reliefs. Lord 
 Walter looked down at the pretty, childish face which 
 was turned up to his and noticed for the first time how 
 very pretty it was — the exquisite clearness of the com- 
 plexion, the soft brown eyes, the curling lashes, and 
 the perfectly formed little mouth. It was scarcely worth 
 while to explain to such a baby why unnecessary trouble 
 is often enjoyable or why the trouble which he gave 
 
 4*
 
 $2 MISS SHAFTO. 
 
 himself could not be described as coming under that 
 head. He responded smilingly with a counter-question. 
 "Do you like being idle?" 
 
 "I don't like having nothing to do," she answered, 
 "but when I do anything, I prefer it to be something 
 pleasant and amusing. After all, one has so few years 
 to amuse one's self in!" 
 
 "I hope you are amusing yourself now," said Lord 
 Walter. "I don't mean at this moment; that would be 
 too much to expect. But I hope you find a London 
 season tolerably amusing. It is your first, isn't it?" 
 
 The girl nodded. "And likely to be my last, I'm 
 afraid. We are mere country bumpkins, and we can't 
 stand ourselves these luxuries every year. Yes; I find 
 it tolerably amusing — just tolerably. If one could do as 
 one liked it would be delightful; but then one can't." 
 
 "At least," observed Lord Walter, "you seem to be 
 able to avoid doing things that you don't like. Upon 
 two separate occasions I have heard Mrs. Wilton lament- 
 ing that she had to go to a party without you, because 
 you had declined to accompany her." 
 
 Miss Wilton displayed a row of very white teeth. 
 "I don't know about the first time," she said; "the 
 second time, I suppose, was at the Shaftos' the other 
 night. Well, I had a chance of going to the theatre 
 instead, and it wasn't likely — was it now? — that I should 
 prefer dining with the Shaftos to going to the theatre." 
 
 "I dare say not: tastes differ. You are very fond 
 of the theatre then?" 
 
 "I simply adore it. Next to dancing with the people 
 whom I wish to dance with — which I am very seldom 
 allowed to do — I enjoy going to the theatre beyond 
 
 dll
 
 FRIENDLY CRITICS. 53 
 
 everything else in the world. Unluckily, it sends 
 mamma to sleep." 
 
 To do a good-natured thing and to gratify your 
 own inclinations at one and the same time is a rare 
 and precious privilege. Lord Walter thought he saw 
 liis way to it. "Couldn't we make up a party to go 
 to the play some evening?" he suggested. "If your 
 mother didn't care about it, perhaps Mr. Shafto would 
 chaperon you. And Miss Shafto — is she fond of 
 theatres too?" 
 
 Miss Wilton laughed and shook her head. "Norma 
 isn't really fond of anything except slums and tatter- 
 demalions," she answered; "but she is such a good old 
 thing that she will always do what she is asked to do. 
 Would you yourself like to come with us?" 
 
 This innocent question was accompanied by a 
 sudden upAvard glance which would doubtless have 
 caused the heart of a susceptible man to flutter. Lord 
 Walter's heart may have been as proof against such 
 assaults as he believed it to be; but he certainly thought 
 Miss Wilton a very charming little person, and his as- 
 surance that he should like it of all things was as 
 sincere as it was emphatic. 
 
 To prove how sincere he was, he lost no time in 
 broaching his proposition to Miss Shafto, who laughed 
 and glanced at Madge and assented. Mrs. Wilton, too, 
 disappointed expectation by taking it for granted that 
 she was to be of the party. 
 
 "And I dare say Sir Christopher Shearman would 
 come," she added. "That would make six, you know, 
 which would be just right." 
 
 "Yes; that would make six," agreed Norma a little
 
 54 MISS SHAFTO. 
 
 doubtfully. "Anyhow," she continued, disregarding a 
 grimace from Madge, "we can ask him. The best way 
 would be for you all to come and dine with us, when 
 we have decided upon the piece and the date." 
 
 Lord Walter was strongly of opinion that both those 
 points should be settled then and there; and, notwith- 
 standing some opposition from Mrs. Wilton, who thought 
 Sir Christopher ought to be consulted, he carried his 
 motion by a majority of three to one. Nor did the 
 selection of the piece present any greater difficulties, 
 three out of the conclave of four being absolutely in- 
 different, while the remaining one frankly avowed a 
 preference for burlesque. 
 
 "It is vulgar of me, I know," Miss Wilton said, with 
 a little appealing side-glance at Lord Walter. Then 
 she turned to her mother and added demurely, "I am 
 in good company, though; for Sir Christopher told me 
 the other day that he had been six times to the Frivolity 
 in the last month and was quite ready to go again." 
 
 When the ladies had taken their leave Lord Walter 
 sat down and smoked a pipe and thought them over. 
 He was a reflective young man; and his reflections 
 were sometimes sensible and sometimes ridiculous, like 
 those of the rest of us. "Those two girls," he mused, 
 "make up a sort of epitome of Woman between them. 
 One has the defects of her noble qualities, and the 
 other has — well, I suppose she has the fascinations that 
 belong to her defects." 
 
 Now, whether this analysis came under the head of 
 sensible or ridiculous, the sequel wall show in good 
 time; but at all events it seems clear that a man capable 
 of making it could hardly have been upon the point of
 
 MRS. Wilton's nerves are shaken. 55 
 
 falling in love with either of its subjects. Yet that was 
 just what Lord Walter felt by no means certain about. 
 
 CHAPTER V. 
 
 MRS. Wilton's nerves are shaken. 
 
 At six o'clock on the following afternoon Miss Wilton 
 went to tea with her friend Norma Shafto, and in the 
 course of conversation inquired casually — 
 
 "Do you suppose that Lord Walter Sinclair works 
 all day in that dismal studio of his in order to make 
 his living, or is it only that he pines for celebrity?" 
 
 "Most likely he works for both reasons," answered 
 Norma. "He told me that he wasn't well off." 
 
 "Poor fellow, what a pity! I thought he seemed so 
 nice. Decidedly handsome, too." 
 
 "He is very nice and very handsome, and he isn't 
 nearly poor enough to be pitied. In fact, if I were a 
 man, I should be inclined to envy him." 
 
 "His good looks, you mean? There isn't much to 
 envy in his talent; or at all events you didn't seem to 
 think so. How could you be so down upon that un- 
 lucky clay figure of his! He tried to look as if he 
 didn't mind; but he wasn't particularly successful, and 
 I would have given anything to be able to breathe a 
 word of comfort to him. Unfortunately that was out 
 of the question, because I know nothing about statues, 
 and they don't interest me a bit. I prefer flesh and 
 blood."
 
 56 MISS SHAFTO. 
 
 Norma looked distressed. "Was I rude?" she asked. 
 "I am so sorry; I only said what I thought." 
 
 "But that was the worst of it." 
 
 "I am very sorry," repeated Norma. "I suppose if 
 one can't be flattering one ought to hold one's tongue; 
 only I never imagined that he would be hurt by hear- 
 ing the opinion of an ignoramus. It is hardly the sort 
 of offence that can be apologized for, either." 
 
 "Never mind," said Madge, with a slight smile; "I 
 dare say he will forgive you, even without an apology. 
 And in future you may remember that the opinion of 
 certain ignoramuses is of immense importance to certain 
 artists." 
 
 She rose as she spoke, and, bending down to set 
 her empty cup upon the tea-table, gazed steadily for a 
 moment into her friend's face. 
 
 "Norma, my dear," said she, "do you know that 
 you are blushing? This is most remarkable; for I don't 
 recollect that I ever before in my life saw you blush. 
 I shall make a note of it in my diary. 'On a certain 
 day and at a certain hour Norma Shafto turned as red 
 as a turkey-cock on being told that her good opinion 
 was valued by Lord Walter Sinclair.' A year hence 
 that entry may have become full of interest. I'm sorry 
 he isn't rich; but then you aren't poor, so it doesn't so 
 much signify." 
 
 Kind-hearted people are not always good-humoured; 
 but Norma Shafto was both. It was quite true that 
 she was blushing, and she was annoyed with herself 
 for being so silly as to blush in that causeless way; yet 
 she did not vent her annoyance upon the indiscreet 
 Madge.
 
 MRS. WILTONS NERVES ARE SHAKEN. 57 
 
 "I am not guilty, whatever I may look," she de- 
 clared, laughing. "I like Lord Walter very much, and 
 I used to know him years ago, when he was a boy; 
 but we are scarcely more than acquaintances now." 
 
 "Of course that's what anybody would say under 
 the circumstances." 
 
 "It is the truth, anyhow." 
 
 "Quite sure?" 
 
 "Perfectly sure." 
 
 "Then," said Madge dehberately, "I rather think I 
 will take him up myself I wouldn't for the world 
 interfere with, you in any way; but if you don't put in 
 a prior claim, it might perhaps be amusing to try and 
 find out whether he is really as impassive as he looks. 
 Would he respond to one's modest advances, do you 
 think?" 
 
 This speech seemed to displease Norma a good 
 deal more than the previous insinuation with regard to 
 herself had done. She knitted her brows and said, 
 "I wish you wouldn't talk like that, Madge! Any 
 stranger who heard you would think you were a horrid 
 girl, and I don't like it even when we are alone." 
 
 "I knew you wouldn't like it," returned the other, 
 laughing, "and that was partly why I said it. Dear 
 old Norma! I believe you really do think it quite 
 wicked to flirt. But I really don't, you see — I don't 
 see the slightest harm in it. And I think I may safely 
 promise neither to break Lord Walter's heart nor my 
 own." 
 
 "You may be able to answer for your own; I don't 
 see how you can answer for his. Besides, what about 
 Sir Christopher?"
 
 58 MISS SHAFTO. 
 
 "Oh, bother Sir Christopher! Please to bear in 
 mind that I'm not engaged to Sir Christopher. And if 
 I were, I should flirt all the more while my liberty 
 lasted, because it would be wholesome discipline for 
 him." 
 
 Norma shook her head and sighed. "I can't 
 understand the pleasure of behaving in that way," said 
 she. "To say the least of it, it is unladylike and — and 
 undignified." 
 
 Madge burst out laughing: she had a very pretty, 
 childish sort of laugh. "Now really. Norma," she ex- 
 claimed, "you don't, I hope, expect me to be dignified. 
 But I'll try to conduct myself like a lady; and I was 
 only talking nonsense, and I shall marry Sir Christopher 
 in due season, because I shall be made to marry him; 
 and then you may be sure that there will be an end 
 of all friskiness and naughtiness and amusement at once 
 and for ever." 
 
 "You can't be made to marry Sir Christopher against 
 your will," observed Norma, who did not look satisfied 
 by this reassuring announcement. 
 
 "Can't I, though! My dearest Norma, you have 
 been deprived of that inestimable blessing, a fond 
 mother; so you don't know what people may not be 
 made to do. Added to which, I won't swear that it 
 would be against my will. When all is said in dis- 
 paragement of Sir Christopher that can be said — and 
 that is a good deal. Heaven knows! — the fact remains 
 that he is immensely rich." 
 
 She began to draw on her gloves, smiling at her 
 friend's grave face. It was not easy for a girl of Norma's 
 direct and honest nature to understand this capricious, 
 
 II
 
 MRS. Wilton's nerves are shaken. 59 
 
 inconsistent little being, who sometimes talked like a 
 child and sometimes like a hardened woman of the world. 
 She could only account for such speeches as the above 
 by assuming that Madge did not really mean what she 
 said. As a matter of fact, Madge meant what she said 
 quite as much and quite as often as other people. 
 What was doubtless a little perplexing to the observer 
 was that her sentiments varied with her moods, which 
 in their turn were many and diverse. 
 
 It was, for example, a very different young person 
 from the Madge just described who demurely followed 
 Mrs. Wilton into that same drawing-room a few evenings 
 later. Innocence, simplicity, and a not unbecoming 
 timidity were expressed in her features and demeanour; 
 she was dressed all in white, and looked, upon the 
 whole, rather more as though she contemplated attend- 
 ing an improving lecture for the young than a burlesque. 
 Mr. Shafto, to whom the study of her character had 
 never presented any difficulties and who had a paternal 
 sort of affection for her, held her by the hand while he 
 welcomed her in the style which old gentlemen are apt 
 to affect in addressing little girls in their teens. 
 
 "Well, Miss Madge," said he, "I hear you are in a 
 fair way to become a confirmed playgoer. So was I 
 once upon a time; but that's a great many years ago, 
 and I'm afraid I've lost the taste for it. However, we 
 old folks can enjoy seeing the young ones enjoy them- 
 selves, can't we, Mrs. Wilton?" 
 
 Mrs. Wilton, who perhaps did not quite like being 
 classed among the old folks, replied rath-er crossly, "I 
 should enjoy going to the theatre as much as anybody
 
 6o MISS SHAFTO. 
 
 if it didn't always give 'me a headache. Have you 
 heard from Sir Christopher?" 
 
 "Oh, yes; he's coming, and so is young Sinclair. 
 They'll be here in a few minutes, I dare say." 
 
 The words were hardly out of his mouth before the 
 two men made their appearance, having encountered 
 one another upon the stairs; and perhaps, as they ad- 
 vanced, there was nobody in the room who did not, 
 voluntarily or involuntarily, draw a comparison between 
 them, which could not but be to the advantage of the 
 younger. Setting aside the question of personal beauty, 
 Lord Walter always looked like a gentleman, whereas 
 poor Sir Christopher was essentially and unmistakably 
 plebeian. Sir Christopher, however, was in a good 
 humour; and when he was in a good humour he had 
 the appearance of being a hearty, jolly sort of little man. 
 
 After he had shaken hands with everybody, he made 
 straight for Miss Wilton; and Lord Walter, who was 
 watching him with some curiosity, noticed that she 
 received him with an encouraging smile. For some 
 reason or other which he did not trouble himself to 
 examine into, Lord Walter was rather sorry to see this ; 
 but, after all, it was no business of his, nor had he any 
 cause to feel dissatisfied with his own lot when he 
 found himself placed at the dinner-table between Miss 
 Shafto and Mrs. Wilton. The former took an early 
 opportunity of begging him to excuse the too free way 
 in which she had criticised his handiwork on the oc- 
 casion of their last meeting. 
 
 "You must have thought me impertinent," she said; 
 "but you did ask me for my opinion, you know; and I 
 gave it, just as I should give my opinion of a Rubens
 
 MRS. Wilton's nerves are shaken. 6i 
 
 or a Holbein, if I were asked for it. One may express 
 one's opinion without meaning to imply that it is of 
 the smallest consequence to anybody." 
 
 "I was very glad to have your opinion, and I 
 shouldn't have cared to have any opinion but an honest 
 one," answered Lord Walter. "You might have been 
 mistaken, of course; but you were not mistaken. You 
 will be relieved to hear that Elizabeth of Hungary has 
 been reduced to her original elements. Perhaps Mrs. 
 Lammergeier is right, and I should do well to turn my 
 attention to executing busts of living celebrities. Would 
 Sir Christopher Shearman give me an order, do you 
 think?" 
 
 "I doubt it. Nobody can want to have a bust of 
 himself, and " 
 
 "And nobody could want to have a bust of Sir 
 Christopher," suggested Lord Walter, finishing the sen- 
 tence for her. "Possibly not just at present; but 
 times may change. Has he decided to take Brampton 
 Priory?" 
 
 A shght cloud passed over Norma's face, but she 
 answered cheerfully, "Yes; he has taken the place, 
 and I am very glad of it. It will make papa feel much 
 easier, and I think he is as good a tenant as Ave could 
 expect to find." 
 
 "He has the means of paying his rent, by all ac- 
 counts. And when Miss Wilton becomes Lady Shear- 
 man will she look after your poor people?" 
 
 It so happened that Norma had some private mis- 
 givings upon that point; but to these she refrained from 
 giving utterance, merely observing that Madge was not 
 Lady Shearman yet.
 
 62 MISS SHAFTO. 
 
 "But she will be?" he persisted. 
 
 "I don't know. Very likely she herself doesn't 
 know." 
 
 "She will be extremely foolish if she refuses him: 
 millionaires don't grow on every bush." 
 
 But Norma was evidently not much inclined to dis- 
 cuss her friend; and after a few more leading observa- 
 tions which met with no response, he ceased to speculate 
 about Madge and her destinies, and devoted himself 
 to a study nearer at hand, which was surely a more 
 interesting one. Pretty little selfish girls can hardly be 
 accounted rare specimens of humanity: what is really 
 rare is to find a young, beautiful, and attractive woman, 
 whose notion of happiness is to make others happy; 
 and although some of Miss Shafto's methods of achiev- 
 ing this end seemed to him unlikely to meet with any 
 success worth speaking of, he admired a faith and en- 
 thusiasm which he was not able to share. 
 
 "My daughter," said Mr. Shafto, passing the claret 
 to Sir Christopher, after the ladies had left the room, 
 "will be sure to recommend lots of h&x protege's round 
 about Brampton to your notice; but you mustn't take 
 what she says too literally. Norma has a craze upon 
 subjects of that kind. I don't mean to say that the 
 agricultural labourer isn't badly enough off; but whether 
 you or she or anybody else can make him better off is 
 another question." 
 
 Sir Christopher observed that in nine cases out of 
 ten a man who was badly off had only himself to thank 
 for it; but to this general proposition Mr. Shafto de- 
 murred. 
 
 "Well, I don't know about that," said he. "I'm 
 
 -li
 
 MRS. Wilton's nerves are shaken. 63 
 
 badly off; but I don't see how I am to blame for the 
 fall in the value of land." 
 
 "Of course not," agreed Sir Christopher; "but then 
 you've done the sensible thing by letting your place." 
 
 "I think so," said Mr. Shafto; "I think it was the 
 sensible thing to do." 
 
 And then he went on, in his usual communicative 
 way, to relate how he had already augmented his 
 modest fortune by following the advice of his friend 
 Baron Lammergeier, "a shrewd fellow and a first-rate 
 man of business." He was still enlarging upon this 
 topic, Sir Christopher listening to him with a somewhat 
 sceptical smile, when the butler came in to announce 
 that the carriage was at the door and that the ladies 
 were waiting. 
 
 There was a brief discussion in the hall as to how 
 the party should divide itself; but, whatever the wishes 
 of some members of it may have been, the question 
 hardly admitted of any other solution than that which 
 was adopted. Mr. Shafto's carriage bore away that 
 gentleman and the three ladies, while the two bachelors 
 followed in a hansom, deriving such consolation as they 
 might from tobacco. Lord Walter had nothing to say 
 to his companion, who, for that matter, did not feel 
 called upon to make conversation for his benefit; so 
 the two men smoked their cigarettes and maintained 
 an unbroken silence while they were whirled along 
 Piccadilly and Pall Mall. It was not until they reached 
 the Strand that an incident occurred which caused 
 each of them to forget his determination to ignore the 
 other. 
 
 The Strand was thronged, as it always is at that
 
 64 MISS SHAFTO. 
 
 hour of the evening; a steady stream was setting in 
 both directions; but the majority of the carriages, hav- 
 ing deposited their occupants at the various theatres, 
 were returning westwards; and one of them, wheehng 
 round somewhat too suddenly, came into violent colli- 
 sion with Mr. Shafto's landau. The wheels became 
 locked, the horses began plunging, and to the two 
 spectators in the rear it looked as though the time had 
 come to rescue the ladies from a position of some pos- 
 sible danger. 
 
 "By George, they'll be over in another minute!" 
 exclaimed Sir Christopher, throwng open the doors of 
 the hansom and jumping out. 
 
 He was followed at once by Lord Walter; but if 
 their intention was to hold up Mr. Shafto's swaying 
 equipage until the ladies should have been got out of 
 it, they were a little bit too late. The carriage stood 
 upon two wheels for a second and then slowly turned 
 over on its side with a crash and an unpleasant sound 
 of breaking glass. 
 
 Of course a crowd immediately collected; two police- 
 men appeared upon the scene, and the cause of the 
 disaster was provisionally arrested, loudly protesting his 
 absolute innocence; but neither Lord Walter nor Sir 
 Christopher paid any heed to these details. Their 
 business was to extricate their hapless friends; and per- 
 haps no one who has not tried it would believe how 
 difficult it is to haul four people out of an overturned 
 carriage. However, the task was accomplished. First 
 Mr. Shafto, then Madge, and then Norma were helped 
 to scramble through the open door; and a great relief
 
 MRS. Wilton's nerves are shaken, 65 
 
 it was to the rescuers to hear that none of them were 
 hurt. 
 
 Then from the dark interior issued forth a lament- 
 able voice, which said, "I am not killed; but I am 
 horribly bruised, and Mr. Shafto has been standing on 
 my head for five minutes." 
 
 "I give you my word of honour," exclaimed poor 
 Mr. Shafto, aghast, "that I did nothing of the sort. 
 Good heavens, what a thing to say! I assure you I 
 was most careful " 
 
 But nobody took any notice of his asseverations, 
 except Norma, who patted him on the shoulder and 
 consoled him, and presently Mrs. Wilton was lifted out 
 on to the pavement, somewhat dishevelled and much 
 agitated, but apparently not otherwise the worse for her 
 adventure. As the whole party were within a few yards 
 of the Frivolity Theatre, whither they had been bound, 
 it seemed best to adjourn thither and ascertain the ex- 
 tent of the damage sustained; and this proved to be 
 so trifling that Madge, for one, declared herself quite 
 ready to go in and witness the performance. But Mrs. 
 Wilton, for whom a chair had been brought, would not 
 hear of such a thing. Nobody but Madge, she said, 
 would have been unfeeling enough to propose it. Per- 
 haps somebody would be so good as to call a cab 
 for her. 
 
 Norma, seeing a suspicion of tears in Madge's eyes, 
 came to the rescue. "If one of the gentlemen would 
 take Mrs. Wilton home," she suggested, "the rest of us 
 might as well see the play, since we are here." 
 
 Lord Walter had a moment of apprehension, which 
 
 A/iss Shnfto, I. 5
 
 66 MISS SHAFTO. 
 
 however was alleviated by the considerate action of 
 Mr. Shafto. 
 
 "I'll take you home, Mrs. Wilton," said the old 
 gentleman. "I really didn't stand on your head, you 
 know; but never mind that. I'll see that you're made 
 comfortable, and then I can come back and join the 
 young ones." 
 
 So Mr. Shafto and Mrs. Wilton drove off in a four- 
 wheeled cab together; and Norma and Madge took 
 their places in the stalls, attended by their two cavaliers 
 and unaccompanied by any vestige of a chaperon. 
 
 "What fun!" whispered the latter to the former. 
 "If anybody sees us, we shall get a nice character, 
 shan't we?" 
 
 "I didn't think of that," answered Norma a little 
 anxiously. "Fortunately, papa will be here before very 
 long."
 
 AT THE PLAY. 67 
 
 CHAPTER VI. 
 
 AT THE PLAY. 
 
 Sir Christopher marched into the theatre first, 
 bearing the tickets; Madge followed him; then came 
 Lord Walter, and then Norma. It was doubtless due 
 to the latter's desire to make everybody comfortable 
 that this order of precedence was observed, and although 
 it might have been more prudent to allow Lord Walter 
 to bring up the rear, she may be excused for having 
 neglected a precaution which, under all the circum- 
 stances, seemed to be superfluous. Throughout the 
 evening Madge had behaved as well as possible; with 
 Sir Christopher she had been amiability itself; she had 
 taken no notice at all of the handsome young sculptor, 
 and it was surely improbable that she would begin 
 flirting with him now that her legitimate suitor was 
 seated so close to her. 
 
 Madge Wilton, however, was given to the doing of 
 improbable things. No sooner had she taken her place 
 than she put up a large fan, and, under cover of that 
 shield, bent her pretty little head sideways towards her 
 right-hand neighbour. The orchestra was in full blast, 
 so that Sir Christopher could not catch what she said; 
 though this was not from any lack of effort on his part 
 to do so. After all, her speech, if he had heard it, 
 was not one to which he could very reasonably have 
 objected. 
 
 5*
 
 68 MISS SHAFTO. 
 
 "Have you got such a thing as a spare pocket- 
 handkerchief about you?" she whispered. "I didn't 
 want to mention it while mamma was there, or she 
 would have insisted upon my going home with her, but 
 I cut my arm when the carriage was upset, and it won't 
 stop bleeding." 
 
 She drew aside the wrap which she had kept over 
 her right arm, and displayed, just above the wrist, a 
 blood-stained bandage formed out of one of those ab- 
 surd combinations of cambric and lace upon which 
 ladies are supposed to be able to blow their noses after 
 a certain hour of the evening. Whether or not it could 
 ever have been used for such a purpose, it was mani- 
 festly insufficient for that to which it had now been 
 put, and the satin lining of Miss Wilton's dolman had 
 suffered. 
 
 Lord Walter was much distressed, and was also 
 filled with admiration for the courage of the sufferer. 
 "How plucky of you to keep quiet!" he exclaimed. 
 "My handkerchief is very much at your service, of 
 course; but really I think you had better go home. 
 You can come and see this stupid piece any evening, 
 and you ought to have that cut seen to. There may 
 be some broken glass in it." 
 
 "Oh no, there isn't, and if there is, I can wash it 
 out before I go to bed. Please don't make a fuss, or 
 we shall have Sir Christopher jumping up and asking 
 whether there is a surgeon in the audience. If you 
 can stop the bleeding I shall be all right." 
 
 She delivered over her injured arm to him as she 
 spoke, and he was soon able to satisfy himself that the 
 wound was not a serious one. Sir Christopher, on the
 
 AT THE PLAY. 69 
 
 Other side of the fan, could not see what was taking 
 place; but Norma, of course, did, and would have 
 made some remark, had she not been checked by an 
 imploring grimace from Madge. Lord Walter drew a 
 knife, containing a pair of scissors, from his pocket, 
 and with these he proceeded as noiselessly as possible 
 to cut his handkerchief into strips, which he folded 
 tightly round the white arm abandoned to him. It 
 took him some little time to do this, because bandag- 
 mg is a scientific operation upon which great care 
 ought always to be bestowed; and besides, he did not 
 quite know how to finish off his handiwork until Norma 
 handed him a pin. 
 
 Meanwhile the curtain had risen, and the whole 
 attention of the patient was concentrated upon the 
 stage, where a bevy of scantily arrayed shepherdesses 
 were skipping about in time to a chorus sung by an 
 equal number of knock-kneed shepherds. She ap- 
 peared to be quite oblivious of her neighbour, and did 
 not distract him from his duties by answering when he 
 asked her whether he Avas hurting her. And how could 
 a sculptor and anatomist help noticing the perfect out- 
 line and moulding of the arm which had been entrusted 
 to him and the smoothness and whiteness of the skin? 
 And if he fingered more than he need have done over 
 his simple task, and if, when he was obliged to acknow- 
 ledge it finished, he was conscious of a certain dis- 
 turbance of his mental balance, that was nothing more 
 than might have been foreseen. 
 
 Il was, at all events, understood by Norma Shafto, 
 who sighed and looked away and tried to interest her- 
 self in the gambols of the actors. Norma, knowing
 
 70 MISS SHAFTO. 
 
 very well what it all meant, was provoked and rather 
 impatient, for once, with Madge, whose manoeuvres 
 struck her as being both transparent and uncalled for. 
 What was the good of it? she wondered. If any ama- 
 teur surgery was required, it would have been so simple 
 to apply to Sir Christopher! What pleasure could any 
 girl find in laying siege to the heart of a man whom 
 she had no intention of marrying? Probably Madge 
 could not have answered the question; but to the fact 
 that there -was a pleasure in so doing she could have 
 testified with all the certainty engendered by repeated 
 personal experience. The genuine flirt, like the true 
 poet, is born, not made, and although, by dint of pains- 
 taking perseverance, a good many ladies contrive to 
 acquire the art after a fashion, they seldom attain to 
 such proficiency in it as Madge Wilton possessed. 
 
 That unscrupulous young woman, on being informed 
 that the binding up of her wound was completed, only 
 whispered, "Thank you so much!" — which, to be sure, 
 was not a great deal to say; but she accompanied this 
 acknowledgment of the service rendered to her by a 
 glance which, half-timid though it was, was extremely 
 expressive; and the simple truth is that, during the re- 
 mainder of the first act. Lord Walter's mind was chiefly 
 busied with conjectures as to what it expressed. She 
 neither spoke to him nor looked at him again until the 
 curtain fell; to Sir Christopher's frequent remarks she 
 responded only by a nod or a murmur; it was scarcely 
 possible to doubt that she was enjoying herself as much 
 as a schoolboy at a pantomime, and if she was aware; 
 that Lord Walter was admiringly studying her profilea 
 she did not seem to be aware of it. But as soon al
 
 AT THE PLAY. 7 I 
 
 she was released from the spell cast over her by the 
 play and the players, she allowed him to have a view of 
 lier full face and showed every disposition to converse. 
 
 "Isn't it delightful!" she exclaimed. 
 
 "Is it?" he returned, laughing. "Yes; it's delight- 
 ful if you think so. Everything is what we think it is." 
 
 "But don't you think so?" she asked. "I suppose 
 you don't; but I wish you did! One feels as if one 
 ought to be ashamed of liking things which other people 
 fnid a bore." 
 
 "As far as that goes, the other people ought to be 
 ashamed of being bored, perhaps. Not that I am bored. 
 I don't particularly care about the piece to-night, be- 
 cause I never care much for burlesques and I have 
 seen this one before; but if it makes you more com- 
 fortable to know that your neighbours are happy, you 
 can set your mind at ease so far as one of them is con- 
 cerned." 
 
 "I cannot understand why you should be happy, 
 sitting in a hot theatre and looking on at a play which 
 doesn't amuse you," said Madge, gravely. 
 
 •'Can't you?" he returned. "Then I'm afraid I 
 can't explain." 
 
 After which their eyes met and they both laughed. 
 
 All this Norma saw and heard. Also, by bending 
 fonvard a little, she could see that Sir Christopher was 
 beginning to look ominously sulky, and it crossed her 
 mind that she had exercised a somewhat mistaken 
 benevolence in removing Madge from her mother's 
 supervision. "I wonder," she thought, "whether we 
 might not effect a change of places when papa comes. 
 I wish he would come!"
 
 72 MISS SHAFTO. 
 
 At this moment somebody who was not Mr. Shafto 
 made his way along the row of stalls and seated him- 
 self in the unoccupied one by Norma's elbow. The 
 new-comer was a lank and sallow young man. His 
 black hair, which was thick and curly and which he 
 wore somewhat longer than is customary in these days, 
 was brushed back behind a pair of prominent ears; he 
 was clean-shaven, and, being of so dark a complexion, 
 had a bluish tinge about that part of his face where his 
 beard ought to have been. His admirers, of whom, like 
 everybody else in the world, he possessed a few, said 
 that he had fine eyes. He had, besides, a nose of 
 noble dimensions and a good many square inches of 
 forehead. His mouth was large and his lips were full; 
 as for his chin, it was going to be a double one before 
 long, but was as yet in an early stage of development. 
 
 He said, in a deliberate, low-pitched voice — a voice 
 which anybody would have sworn to in the dark as be- 
 longing to a perfectly self-satisfied being — 
 
 "How do you do, Miss Shafto? I saw you from 
 afar and came to pay my respects. I didn't expect to 
 find you patronizing burlesque." • 
 
 "How do you do, Mr. Morley?" returned Norma. 
 "I might say the same thing of you, might I not? 
 Surely your contempt for this sort of thing must be 
 more profound than mine." 
 
 "As a dramatic representation," answered Mr. Morley 
 placidly, "it is, of course, beneath contempt; but the 
 whole scene is in a manner instructive, and the mere 
 fact of the theatre being crowded is typical of modern 
 life under one of its aspects. I feel bound to study all 
 the aspects of modern life."
 
 AT THE PLAY. 73 
 
 "Do you?" said Norma. "Why?" 
 
 Now this was rather an unkind speech to make, and 
 it was not at all like Norma Shafto to make it. All 
 that can be pleaded on her behalf is that asses are 
 more irritating at some moments than at others. 
 
 Mr. Morley looked surprised and a trifle pained. 
 "I thought you knew," said he, "that I dabble a little 
 in literature. As a contributor to certain reviews, and 
 as a humble student of the world and of men, I am 
 often compelled to look on at what to me personally is 
 distasteful." 
 
 "To which of the reviews do you contribute?" 
 
 "I must ask you," returned Mr. Morley, with a smile, 
 "to excuse me from answering that question. Hitherto 
 I have preferred to preserve my incognito, and perhaps 
 for the present I had better continue to do so." 
 
 An unfriendly critic might have surmised that if 
 Mr. Morley had been on the staff of any review of the 
 first class, he would have displayed less modesty; but 
 Norma was not unfriendly; she was only disinclined to be 
 bothered with this country neighbour, whom she had 
 not anticipated meeting in London. 
 
 "Are you up in town for any time?" she asked 
 presently. "I hope you left your mother quite well?" 
 
 "Quite well, thank you. I am up for the season, 
 like other people: one is more or less obliged to do as 
 other people do. Isn't that Miss Wilton?" 
 
 He bent forward and bowed to Madge, who acknow- 
 ledged his salutation by a very slight bend of tlie head 
 and went on talking to Lord Walter. Perhaps it may 
 have been this insufficient recognition that caused Mi". 
 Morley to remark —
 
 74 MISS SHAFTO. 
 
 "I hear that poor httle girl is to be married to your 
 new tenant, Sir Christopher Shearman, who, I see, is 
 sitting beyond her. It seems a melancholy fate; but I 
 suppose we most of us get the fate that we deserve." 
 
 "You must have been misinformed," said Norma; 
 "Madge is not engaged to Sir Christopher. When she 
 is, it will be time enough for you to begin pitying her 
 — though I don't know why you should." 
 
 The young man with the curly black hair was not 
 easily snubbed. He said, "My dear Miss Shafto, when- 
 ever I think of you I think of Wordsworth's 
 
 ' — perfect woman, nobly planned, 
 To warn, to comfort, and command; 
 And yet a Spirit still, and bright 
 With something of an angelic light.' 
 
 Being what you are, you naturally and inevitably see 
 what is good in others and are slow to detect what is 
 evil; but I should think that even you would be puzzled 
 to point out much good in Sir Christopher Shearman." 
 
 "Why do you say that?" 
 
 "Because it is the truth. He shoots, he hunts, he 
 eats and drinks — is there anything more to be said 
 about him? I can't tell you how grieved I was when I 
 heard that he was to replace you at Brampton." 
 
 "At any rate, he is a man," returned Norma, who 
 was unusually exasperated. 
 
 But she might as well have attempted to kill an 
 alligator uith a pea-shooter as to disconcert her com- 
 panion, Mr. Morley rejoined placidly, "I believe he is 
 a good shot, if that is what you mean; but we do not 
 belong to a community of savages. In our day and in 
 our country a man must possess higher qualifications 
 
 I
 
 AT THE PLAY. 75 
 
 than those of a North American Indian before he can 
 be called truly manly." 
 
 In our day and in our country there are a good 
 many men who cannot possibly be so described, if 
 tried by any conceivable test, and Mr. Basil Morley was 
 one of these. Nevertheless, Norma had a sneaking 
 kindness for the poor creature. She knew that he was 
 good to his old mother, with whom he lived; he had 
 helped her, too, in providing material comforts for her 
 sick people, and had generously refrained from dis- 
 turbing their faith in the creed of Christianity, which 
 he himself had outgrown. Moreover, almost everybody 
 detested him; and that in itself constituted a sort of 
 claim upon her indulgence. So, as Mr. Shafto had not 
 appeared when the curtain rose again, she endured his 
 company throughout the second act and submitted with 
 a good grace to the trite reflections with which it 
 pleased him to favour her from time to time. 
 
 What may have helped her to be tolerant was that 
 her attention was really engaged elsewhere. Lord 
 Walter and Madge Wilton continued to whisper to- 
 gether, notwithstanding the highly entertaining spectacle 
 which was provided for them upon the stage; nor could 
 there be any question as to the effect produced by 
 their conduct upon the gentleman of whom Mr. Morley 
 had spoken so disparagingly. Immediately upon the 
 conclusion of the second act Sir Christopher charged 
 out, muttering something, as he passed, about smoking 
 a cigarette outside and having had enough of this rot; 
 and hardly had he vanished when Mr. Shafto entered. 
 
 Mr. Shafto, as his habit was, affected to have ar- 
 rived in breathless haste. "Sorry to have been so
 
 76 MISS SHAFTO. 
 
 long," he said; "but I had to take Mrs. Wilton home 
 and see that she had a glass of wine, and then I 
 thought I might as well find out whether the horses or 
 John had been damaged. John tumbled off the box 
 and declares he is badly shaken; but he doesn't look 
 much the worse. Hullo, Morley! Attracted up to the 
 metropolis, like the rest of the unemployed, eh?" 
 
 "I am seldom at a loss for employment," replied 
 Mr. Morley, with a superior sort of smile; "but a change 
 of scene is sometimes desirable, I think. I am afraid 
 I am occupying your place." 
 
 "Not at all, my dear fellow; I don't want to sit 
 beside my own daughter, thank you; I can do that at 
 home. Stay where you are, and I'll go and talk to my 
 friend Miss Madge." 
 
 Thus it came to pass that when, at the expiration 
 of a fcAV minutes. Sir Christopher returned, Mr. Morley 
 had to retire. Before saying good night, however, he 
 took Norma's address and was so kind as to say that 
 he would look in upon her some day soon. 
 
 Sir Christopher, who was in a very naughty temper, 
 plumped down into the vacated stall, and said gruffly, 
 "Who's that puppy?" 
 
 "You will find out before you have been at Brampton 
 long," answered Norma. "In our part of the world 
 Mr. Morley represents Intellect. The rest of us haven't 
 very much to boast of in that way; so that we are 
 naturally proud of him, although we think he gives 
 himself undue airs." 
 
 "The airs are evident enough," growled Sir Chris- 
 topher. "Does one have to be acquainted with him 
 long to discover the intellect?" 
 
 I
 
 AT THE PLAY. 77 
 
 "Oh, not very long, as a rule. If he himself doesn't 
 tell you what services he has rendered to contemporary 
 literature, his mother will. I shall be curious to hear 
 what you think of your neighbours. You will like 
 most of them, I hope; but there are some oddities 
 among them." 
 
 If Miss Shafto thought that she was going to steer 
 clear of dangerous topics in this way she did not know 
 her man. Out of the fulness of Sir Christopher's 
 heart his mouth always spoke, and his heart just now 
 was full of indignation against Madge Wilton. "What 
 a flirt that girl is?" he exclaimed abruptly. "I hate 
 flirts." 
 
 "I don't think you hate Madge, do you?" asked 
 Norma gently. "If you do, you must be rather unjust 
 and rather unreasonable. She talked to you all through 
 dinner: if she had talked to nobody else for the rest 
 of the evening, perhaps Lord Walter might have called 
 her a flirt." 
 
 "She didn't flirt with me, and she is flirting with 
 him," declared Sir Christopher doggedly. "Pray don't 
 suppose that I am making any complaint; she is at 
 liberty to please herself. All I say is that I hate a 
 flirt, and I presume I've a right to my own taste." 
 
 There was no disputing that; and Norma quite 
 understood the implied threat. The only question was 
 whether it was worth while to stroke this bear down. 
 Upon the whole, she believed that it was; so, while the 
 play was being brought to an end, she exerted herself 
 with that intention, and was moderately successful. Sir 
 Christopher, when he said good night to the ladies at 
 the door of the theatre, was not without hope that
 
 78 MISS SHAFTO. 
 
 Madge's behaviour might be explained by an hypo- 
 thesis rather flattering than otherwise to his self-esteem. 
 He had not declared himself yet, and of course it was 
 conceivable that she might wish to make him declare 
 himself; and some colour was lent to this pleasing 
 surmise by the manner in which she took leave of him. 
 
 "Still cross?" she Avhispered, as she gave him her 
 hand, and then, without waiting for an answer, with- 
 drew into the recesses of the cab which Mr. Shafto had 
 called. 
 
 But Lord Walter, as Madge may have been aware, 
 did not hear these last words, being occupied at the 
 moment in telling Norma how much he had enjoyed 
 his evening.
 
 NORMA HAS A BAD TIME OF IT. 79 
 
 CHAPTER VII. 
 NORMA HAS A BAD TIME OF IT. 
 
 It was discovered a very long time ago that mis- 
 fortunes never come singly; and when Norma Shafto 
 found out, on the morning after her visit to the theatre, 
 that she had lost a valuable old fan to which she was 
 much attached, she felt pretty sure that she had an 
 unlucky day before her. It is true that she had got 
 out of bed in low spirits, which was an unusual thing 
 \vith her; but whether this circumstance was or was not 
 in any degree accountable for her gloomy anticipations, 
 the latter were speedily verified. No sooner had she 
 entered the breakfast-room than Mr. Shafto bustled in 
 from his study, looking worried and perturbed, and 
 began to grumble at the food set before him. 
 
 "Upon my word, Norma, I think you might see that 
 that woman provides us with something fit to eat! I'm 
 not over-particular, as you know; but I do draw the 
 line at stale fish." 
 
 Norma, after apologizing for the fish, which was 
 not stale, rang the bell and ordered something else, 
 though she knew that her father would not eat it when 
 It came. Merely by way of making conversation, she 
 mentioned her loss; whereupon Mr. Shafto declared that 
 it served her right for being so careless of her property. 
 
 "I'm not careless of mine, goodness knows!" he
 
 80 IVnSS SHAFTO. 
 
 'observed, scratching his head ruefully; "but I lose it, 
 all the same. From what I hear this morning, I think 
 I may say good-bye to three thousand pounds. This 
 is what comes of trusting to lying prospectuses, you 
 see." 
 
 It might have been imagined from his tone that 
 Norma had been guilty of that foolish credulity; al- 
 though, as a matter of fact, no one could have had a 
 more holy horror of speculation than she. This was 
 neither the first nor the second time that her father 
 had lost money through trying to gain it, and she knew 
 enough of him to be aware that he was incorrigible. 
 Therefore she wisely abstained from remonstrances 
 which would only have aimoyed him; and presently, 
 like the grey-headed child that he was, he remembered 
 having spoken crossly to her and begged her pardon. 
 
 "I'm sorry I said the fish was bad; I've no doubt 
 it's all right. But when one has just dropped three 
 thousand pounds, one would swear that a salmon was 
 tainted if one had landed it with one's own rod an 
 hour ago. Well, Avell! there's no good in crying over 
 spilt milk. I think I'll look up Lammergeier this morn- 
 ing; if anybody can advise me about what steps to 
 take, he is the man. Don't wait luncheon for me; I'll 
 get something to eat in the City." 
 
 So Mr, Shafto left the house in a tolerably cheerful 
 frame of mind, notwithstanding the good reasons that 
 he had for considering himself unfortunate. But Norma 
 was not able to shake off her depression so easily. 
 Having pacified the cook, who was naturally indignant 
 at the affront which had been put upon her, she thought 
 she would go and see a few of those excellent people
 
 NORMA HAS A BAD TIME OF IT. 8 1 
 
 with whom she had lately become associated in works 
 of charity. Possibly she was not in a fit mood for 
 appreciating the excellences and pardoning the defi- 
 ciencies of her fellow- workers; but it certainly did seem 
 to her that these good folks were more priggish, more 
 unpractical, and more self-satisfied than usual. 
 
 For first of all she had an interview with a certain 
 parson; and a very worthy and hard-working little par- 
 son he was, with a round face and a pair of spectacles, 
 and a scrap of blue ribbon at his button-hole. Only 
 he was quite sure about everything, as so many of 
 them are, which made him a little irritating at times. 
 Just now he was quite sure that drink is the origin of 
 all evil; and that, after all, is a theory which cannot be 
 made to hold water by the mere fact that its votaries 
 have resolved to swallow nothing stronger. He thought 
 it a sad pity that Norma was still given to the use of 
 intoxicating liquors; he was convinced that she would 
 be a great deal better and happier if she would re- 
 nounce them and induce those about her to do like- 
 wise; and apparently his reason for thinking so was that 
 Tim O'Flaherty had been beating his wife again and 
 was even now answering for his excesses before a police- 
 magistrate. 
 
 The little parson was not altogether in the wrong; 
 but he was dictatorial and provoking, and it was easy 
 to foresee that when poor Mrs. O'Flaherty returned 
 from the police-court she would meet with a Job's 
 comforter. Norma asked whether, under all the cir- 
 cumstances, it would be pemiissible to leave a small 
 sum of money for the benefit of that injured woman and 
 her children and was somewhat sharply told that she 
 
 Mf:s Sh.iftn. I. 6 
 
 I
 
 82' MISS SHAFTO. 
 
 ought to know better than to propose such a thing. 
 Then she received instructions as to the performance 
 of certain tasks which she had undertaken, and went 
 her way. 
 
 Her next visit was to a building in the same dis- 
 trict which had recently been hired as a Hall of Re- 
 creation for the behoof of the inhabitants; and here she 
 found Lady Adelaide Tomkinson, the leader and pre- 
 sident of the little society which had taken it in hand. 
 Lady Adelaide, a tall, fair-haired and rather pretty 
 woman, whose style of attire recalled the aesthetic craze 
 of a few years ago, was totting up accounts with the 
 manager of the establishment, and frankly admitted 
 that she had got them into a hopeless tangle. 
 
 "One thing, however," said she, pushing her books 
 away with a sigh, "is quite clear, and that is that we 
 are not paying our way. We have ceased to be a 
 novelty, and we don't seem to be a success. You 
 were not at the concert here last night, were you. Miss 
 Shafto,?" 
 
 "No," answered Norma; "I was at the theatre." 
 
 "I don't think one should take up a work of this 
 kind," said Lady Adelaide rather severely, "unless one 
 is prepared to make some sacrifices in order to support 
 it. Naturally the people won't come to entertain- 
 ments which Ave don't think good enough to patronize 
 ourselves." 
 
 "Were you here last night?" Norma ventured to 
 inquire. 
 
 "It was quite impossible for me to be here. Mr. 
 Tomkinson had asked some political people to dinner
 
 NORMA HAS A BAD TIME OF IT. 83 
 
 and I was obliged to entertain them. A married woman, 
 of course, has home duties which she can't neglect, 
 and which are by no means always pleasures, I can 
 assure you. Please don't think that I mean to scold 
 you. Miss Shafto; only it seems that none of us were 
 here last night except the performers, and you can 
 understand how discouraging that must be to the 
 audience." 
 
 Lady Adelaide added, as she rose — "Since you 
 have come, Miss Shafto, it would be very kind of you 
 if you would go through these accounts. I never had 
 any head for figures, and I must be at home before 
 luncheon-time." 
 
 So Norma spent half an hour in auditing and cor- 
 recting Lady Adelaide's sums in addition, and, as the 
 result of her labours, was able to declare a consider- 
 able deficit. The manager, a decent, middle-aged man, 
 with an occasional twinkle in the corner of his eye, had 
 not much comfort to offer her. 
 
 "You see, m'm," said he, "it takes something power- 
 ful in the way of an attraction to compete with beer. 
 Then there's another thing you've got to contend against, 
 and that is that a many of these people is downright 
 'ungry. Now, there's a good deal as you and me might 
 enjoy which we couldn't seem to relish upon an empty 
 stomach, do you see, m'm?" 
 
 Apparently this observer, who was not without ex- 
 perience, was very much of Lord Walter's opinion. 
 Norma went away with a rather heavy heart. What is 
 to be done with the thousands Avho are for ever hover- 
 ing upon the verge of famine? Mansion House Funds, 
 we are told, do them little or no good; to sanction a
 
 84 MISS SHAFTO. 
 
 fictitious demand for labour by means of public works 
 would be to insert the thin end of a very formidable 
 wedge; to raise the moral standard of the masses would 
 be a capital thing; but then nobody seems to know how 
 to set about doing it. 
 
 Perhaps the very best plan that a far-sighted philan- 
 thropist could suggest would be to put three-fourths of 
 them to death. If that impossible thing could be done, 
 and if equally impossible restrictions could be imposed 
 upon the increase of population, posterity might have 
 some chance. Meanwhile individual effort appears to 
 produce no appreciable fruit, unless indeed it be to the 
 individuals themselves, who, let us hope, reap a reward 
 of some description or other from the seed of their 
 kind intentions. 
 
 Norma Shafto was far too sensible to be discouraged 
 by the comparative failure of efforts from which she 
 had never anticipated any triumphant results. If upon 
 this occasion she was disposed to take an unusually 
 pessimistic view of things in general, that was only be- 
 cause, as has been related, things in general were un- 
 usually vexatious. She thought them all over after she 
 had gone home and was eating her solitary luncheon; 
 but, oddly enough, she omitted to count among them 
 one thing which in reality annoyed her more than the 
 whole of the others together. She foresaw that trouble 
 would come of Madge's unfortunate determination to 
 flirt with Lord Walter Sinclair; only she said to herself 
 that, after all, it was no business of hers, and that 
 people who have made up their minds to do foolish 
 things are seldom deterred from their folly by the in- 
 tervention of outsiders. She had gone upstairs to the
 
 NORMA HAS A BAD TIME OF IT. 85 
 
 drawing-room, and was debating whether she should or 
 should not go and inquire how Mrs. Wilton was after 
 the shock of the previous evening, when a visitor was 
 announced. 
 
 Mr. Morley followed his name into the room very 
 languidly. He had a way of entering a room which of 
 itself would have sufficed to prejudice any unprejudiced 
 person against him; but it must be assumed that he 
 was not aware of this. When he had seated himself 
 in the most comfortable chair that he could find, he 
 said, with a slow, exasperating smile, "Miss Shafto, I 
 must plead guilty to an act of petty larceny." He 
 drew Norma's missing fan from his pocket, and held it 
 up. "Last night," he continued, "I could not resist the 
 temptation to appropriate some trifle of yours, which I 
 might take home with me and which would breathe to 
 me of you; but when I examined this fan by daylight 
 and perceived its intrinsic value — perhaps you don't 
 know how really valuable it is? — I felt that I must 
 restore it to its owner; and so here I am. Will you 
 forgive me?" 
 
 "Since you have brought it back, I will forgive 
 you, Mr. Morley," answered Norma, half amused, half 
 indignant; "but I hope you will not behave in such an 
 idiotic way again. That fan belonged to my grand- 
 mother, and I know its value as w'ell as you do. I 
 have already sent to the theatre to inquire about it, 
 and I have put an advertisement in the papers; so you 
 see you have caused a great deal of trouble which might 
 have been avoided. Another time, if you want to have 
 anything that will breathe of me to you, perhaps you 
 will kindly mention it, and I will try to oblige you. You
 
 86 MISS SHaFTO. 
 
 might have had the loan of my fan last night for the 
 asking, instead of making a pickpocket of yourself." 
 
 She was accustomed to Basil Morley's flowery 
 speeches and thought him a harmless sort of fool. 
 That, however, was by no means the view that Mr. 
 Morley took of himself. He was quite certain that he 
 was not a fool, and he would not at all have liked to 
 be stigmatized as harmless. 
 
 "Ah," he sighed, "if I had only known that! But I 
 didn't know it, and so I yielded to my wicked inclina- 
 tions. Well, at any rate my offence has served its pur- 
 pose; for it has been the means of inspiring me." 
 
 "Inspiring you? With what?" inquired Norma, 
 rather imprudently. 
 
 "Oh, with a poor enough thing. Sometimes when 
 I am in the mood for it, I knock off a sonnet; but as 
 often as not I burn what I have written. Latterly I 
 have been thinking that I may perhaps bring out a 
 volume of the few which I have kept and which seem 
 to me to have some merit. This one is scarcely worthy 
 of your notice; still, if you really wish to hear it -" 
 
 Norma was as innocent of having expressed any 
 such wish as she was of having experienced it; but she 
 had not the requisite hardness of heart to silence her 
 visitor, who at once produced a sheet of paper, remark- 
 ing, "I have called it 'To My Lady's Fan.'" Then he 
 cleared his voice and started — 
 
 "Oh, call it not a theft that made thee mine! 
 For thou and I are hers, and she is ours, 
 And in that fellow-slavery divine 
 
 We are each other's. Through the sleepless hours 
 Of this sweet summer night I'll sing to thee, 
 And thou "
 
 NORMA HAS A BAD TIME OF IT. 87 
 
 Here the poet was suddenly interrupted by a peal 
 of irrepressible laughter. 
 
 "I beg your pardon," said Norma, speaking in- 
 distinctly from behind the pocket-handkerchief with 
 which she was trying in vain to stifle her merriment; 
 "but I really couldn't help it. When I hear things de- 
 scribed I always picture them to myself, and the idea 
 of your sitting up all night, with an open fan before 
 ; ou, and singing to it ivas rather comical, wasn't it? I 
 didn't mean to laugh at the sonnet, which I am sure is 
 very pretty. Please go on." 
 
 But Mr. Morley was not to be appeased. He folded 
 up the paper and put it away, observing coldly, "You 
 will hardly expect me to make myself ridiculous by 
 reading any farther. Whatever the sonnet may have 
 been worth, you have quite destroyed its value in my 
 eyes, and I shall tear it up as soon as I get home. At 
 the same time, I may perhaps be permitted to point out 
 that I made use of the verb to sing in a poetical, not 
 in a musical sense. If it is so very laughable to indite 
 a sonnet to an inanimate object, I have at least the 
 consolation of knowing that greater poets than I have 
 done the same thing and that I am derided in tolerably 
 good company." 
 
 To this dignified rebuke Norma returned no im- 
 mediate reply. When she did speak, it was to say, "I 
 think, if I could write poetry, I wouldn't waste my time 
 in addressing verses to anybody's fan. There are so 
 many other subjects which a man of genius might take 
 up, and some of them haven't been touched yet." 
 
 "Are there?" asked Mr. Morley, somewhat mollified 
 by being called a man of genius. "I should be very
 
 88 MISS SHAi'TO. 
 
 glad to hear of them. My own beUef is that every 
 conceivable poetical idea has been worn thread-bare 
 long ago." 
 
 "I was thinking of the poverty and misery of London. 
 A poem which described that might do some good and 
 couldn't very well help being pathetic. But as yet no 
 poet seems to have thought it worth more than a passing 
 allusion." 
 
 "Well, we have had 'The Song of the Shirt,' you 
 know. Of course that is not poetry of a high class; 
 still, in its own way, it has a certain value. You, I 
 know, are greatly interested in the unhappy lot of the 
 masses, and whatever interests you interests me. But 
 I must confess that I should have difficulty in writing a 
 poem upon such a theme. All that is squalid and mean 
 and ugly distresses and disgusts me. I suppose that is 
 the inevitable failing of the poetic temperament." 
 
 He looked so blandly self-complacent, he was so 
 perfectly unconscious of his own absurdity, that Norma 
 could not be angry with him. She only remarked, 
 "You might put your distress and disgust into rhyme, 
 might you not? The more strongly you felt them the 
 greater your success would be, I should think." 
 
 Mr. Morley smiled. "Ah, but I don't covet suc- 
 cess," he rejoined. "When one sees who the successful 
 people are, one really doesn't feel very anxious to be 
 included among them. My ambition is simply to be 
 appreciated by a few — a select few." 
 
 Norma was wondering whether it would be very 
 unkind to disappoint him by omitting to ask who the 
 select few might be, when, to her relief, a second visitor 
 was shown into the room.
 
 NORMA HAS A BAD TIME OF IT. 89 
 
 At the name of "Miss Travers" Mr. Morley made a 
 grimace and heaved an impatient sigh; but Norma 
 jumped up and stepped forward with outstretched hands 
 to welcome a lady who was perhaps the most staunch 
 friend that she had in the world.
 
 go TVIISS SHAFTO. 
 
 CHAPTER VIII. 
 OLD NELL. 
 
 Throughout Stourshire, and it might almost be said 
 throughout England, so far as a certain section of society 
 is concerned, Miss Travers was Avell known and de- 
 servedly popular. She rode straight to hounds; she 
 was an admitted authority on the training and treatment 
 of horses and dogs; she had a kindly, honest disposi- 
 tion; she was in the habit of saying what she thought, 
 and she feared neither man nor woman in the world. 
 These attributes, taken in conjunction with the circum- 
 stances that she was comfortably off and was a gentle- 
 woman by birth, had earned for her a large circle of 
 friends. "Old Nell," as she was generally called, was 
 a frequent and welcome guest at country houses; her 
 towering form and her good-humoured, ugly face were 
 to be seen everywhere where smart people are to be 
 seen in London during the early part of the summer, 
 and to frequenters of Newmarket her features were as 
 familiar as those of the stewards of the Jockey Club 
 themselves. The prefix of "old" has, as everybody 
 knows, become more or less a term of endearment. In 
 a literal sense Miss Travers could not be called old, 
 though she was certainly no longer young, being at this 
 time rather over forty years of age. Plain she had 
 always been; and perhaps it was because she was so
 
 OLD NELL. 9 1 
 
 perfectly well aware of that fact that she did not think 
 it worth while to bestow as much attention upon her 
 personal appearance as women usually do. "I take 
 care to have good boots," she was wont to say, "and I 
 believe my riding-habits fit me pretty well; but as for 
 frocks, I can't bring myself to take an interest in them. 
 I leave that sort of thing to my maid." 
 
 The result of this misplaced confidence was that 
 Miss Travers Avas often arrayed in a combination of 
 colours which grieved sensitive souls like that of Basil 
 Morley, and that, when in the country, she wore cos- 
 tumes designed rather with a view to comfort and 
 durability than in conformity with the laws of prevailing 
 fashion. For these latter it may be surmised that she 
 herself, not her maid, was responsible. She was in the 
 country, off and on, for three-fourths of the year. She 
 had a small property, inherited from her father, which 
 she managed with dexterity, and even, it was said, 
 with profit, farming a considerable portion of it herself. 
 Her house, which was of moderate size, was large 
 enough to accommodate as many guests as she cared 
 to invite. The extensive stabling which she had added 
 to it had been built under her personal supervision, and 
 was pronounced by competent judges to be in all re- 
 spects admirable. Amongst the poor she was con- 
 sidered to be both just and generous, while her richer 
 neighbours had that respect for her which it is natural 
 to feel for those who know exactly what you are worth 
 and treat you accordingly. Miss Travers was strongly 
 of opinion (and she never disguised her opinions) that 
 Norma Shafto was worth all the other inhabitants of 
 Stourshire put together. In Norma she recognized, if
 
 92 MISS SHAFTO. 
 
 not precisely a kindred spirit, yet one whose qualities 
 were such as to command her sympathy and admira- 
 tion; and it was therefore not surprising that she had 
 heard with consternation that Brampton Priory was 
 about to pass into other hands. Her first words bore 
 reference to this melancholy news. 
 
 "My dear creature," she exclaimed, "if you want 
 to see a dejected and disconsolate woman, here you 
 are! I suppose it's no fault of yours; but as for Mr. 
 Shafto, I can't forgive him, and he had better keep 
 out of my reach for some time to come. As if people 
 had any business to go letting their houses to the first 
 ironmonger that turns up! Not that the case would 
 have been much improved if he had let his house to 
 the Prince of Wales. Brampton ought never to have 
 been let at all, and that's all about it." 
 
 "But necessity has no law," observed Norma. 
 "When one can't afford to live at home one must go 
 away, and I think poor papa deserves some credit for 
 putting a good face upon it." 
 
 "Anyhow, you don't deserve any for taking his 
 part, because you would do that, whether he was right 
 or wrong. Don't tell me he can't afford to live at 
 home; he could afford it well enough if he chose. I 
 look upon him as a selfish and foolish old man, and I 
 shall tell him so the very first time that I see him." 
 
 "I am quite sure you will," said Norma, laughing; 
 "but unfortunately no rude speeches can cancel the 
 lease of Brampton." 
 
 "If they could," observed Mr. Morley, "I should 
 not shrink from uttering a few myself. The end would 
 justify the means."
 
 OLD NELL. 93 
 
 "Oh, that's you, is it?" said Miss Travers. "I 
 thought I noticed a disagreeable smell of patchouli. 
 How do you do? What has brought you to London?" 
 
 "Is not London large enough to hold us both, Miss 
 Travers?" inquired the poet, with an unfriendly sort of 
 smile. "As for patchouli, I may truly say that I have 
 never used such a brutal scent in my life, and that I 
 would die rather than use it." 
 
 "Well, I won't swear to its being patchouli; but it's 
 something unpleasant. Pomatum, I dare say. Now that 
 you are in London why don't you take the opportunity 
 to have your hair cut? You have no idea how much 
 more like a respectable being you would look if you 
 were to have that wiry black mat removed from the 
 back of your head." 
 
 "Don't you think, Miss Travers," suggested Mr. 
 Morley sweetly, "that we had better steer clear of per- 
 sonal criticism? It is a game at which two can pla)'', 
 and perhaps, if I were rude enough to do it, I might 
 offer some advice to you which would not be altogether 
 devoid of excuse." 
 
 "My good man, you know as well as I do that 
 you would never have the pluck. You are dying to 
 say something rude at the present moment; but you 
 can't get beyond insinuations, you see, and I suspect 
 that your poor little heart is fluttering like a bird's at 
 your audacity in having gone even so far." 
 
 "Nell!" remonstrated Norma in a whisper, as Mr. 
 Morley slowly rose and took up his hat. 
 
 But Miss Travers only burst out laughing. "Ai-e 
 you going, Mr. Morley?" she asked. "Well, good-bye
 
 Q4 MISS SHAFTO. 
 
 then, and don't bear malice. I'll take your word for it 
 that you never use patchouli." 
 
 Mr. Morley vouchsafed no reply. He bent over 
 Norma's hand with a grace which was all his own, say- 
 ing, "I hope I may be allowed to come and see you 
 again, Miss Shafto," and so made for the door. 
 
 "Poor fellow!" exclaimed Norma, as soon as he 
 was gone; "I don't think you ought to have insulted 
 him as you did, Nell, and now I am afraid he is really 
 offended." 
 
 "Oh, he'll be all right," answered Miss Travers 
 easily. "I was obliged to be insulting, or he would 
 never have moved; but I dare say he'll forgive me. At 
 all events, we have got rid of him for the present. How 
 you can tolerate such a degraded wretch I can't con- 
 ceive." 
 
 "I don't dislike him so much as you do," answered 
 Norma. "He is conceited, of course, but one must 
 take into consideration that he is an only child and 
 that his mother has spoilt him." 
 
 "My dear Norma, he has been at a public school 
 and at college. I don't see how you can hold poor 
 old Mother Morley responsible for anything except hav- 
 ing brought him into the world. However, he isn't 
 worth talking about; I'd rather talk about you. Are 
 you going to live in London? What does your father 
 mean to do?" 
 
 "He hasn't said much about it as yet," answered 
 Norma; "but most likely we shall establish ourselves 
 here. We can have a lease of this house, I believe, 
 and papa always seems to be able to find occupation in 
 London. He is a good deal at his club; and then there
 
 OLD NELL. 95 
 
 is the City, where he goes to meet his friend Baron 
 Lammergeier, and makes money — or loses it." 
 
 Miss Travers shook her head. "He's a great deal 
 more Hkely to lose money than make it if he trusts to 
 that rascally little Jew," said she. "I heard that he 
 was mixed up with Lammergeier, and I was very sorry 
 to hear it. The turf is bad enough, goodness knows; 
 but, depend upon it, an honest man has a much better 
 chance upon the turf than he has in the City." 
 
 "How do you know?" asked Norma, smiling. 
 
 "Because I've had a shy at both, my dear; that's 
 how I know. Lammergeier has enriched himself by 
 robbing widows and orphans." 
 
 "Isn't that what they say about all these great 
 financiers?" 
 
 "Yes: and it's generally true too. I would make 
 so bold as to give your father a word of warning, only 
 it isn't over and above likely that he would listen to 
 me. You haven't told me yet how London life suits 
 you. I needn't ask whether you have begun slumming, 
 because that's a matter of course; but I hope you are 
 going about a little and seeing people. After all, one's 
 own class has some slight claim upon one's notice, 
 though it isn't clad in rags." 
 
 Norma mentioned a few of the houses to which she 
 had been invited. "But of course we haven't a very 
 large acquaintance," she said. "At least, I haven't; 
 papa seems to know everybody. I suppose that you 
 have heard that the Wiltons are in town?" 
 
 Miss Travers nodded. "The old woman has taken 
 the war-path," she remarked, "and I am told that she
 
 96 MISS SHAFTO. 
 
 is upon the point of scoring another big success. Your 
 tenant the ironmonger is a prize worth securing." 
 
 "But is he?" asked Norma. "Do you think he 
 would make a good husband?" 
 
 "As good as most and better than some. He isn't 
 a gentleman, which is so far against him; but then there 
 are plenty of gentlemen who don't shine in a matri- 
 monial capacity. If Madge Wilton were my daughter, 
 I should consider him good enough for her." 
 
 "Perhaps you wouldn't, if she were your daughter. 
 And I am not at all sure that she considers him so." 
 
 "She won't be consulted, I take it; but if she were, 
 it wouldn't make much difference. That little girl is 
 every bit as worldly as her mother. She'll be a willing 
 victim, you'll see." 
 
 Norma said she was not convinced of that. "Madge 
 chooses to talk as if she was worldly; but a good deal of 
 that is pretence, I think. She has had no experience; 
 Sir Christopher is really the only serious admirer she has 
 ever had, and I don't see why she shouldn't fall in love 
 like other girls. If she were to meet anybody whom 
 she could really care for " 
 
 "She would cry and throw him over, unless he had 
 plenty of money," interrvipted Miss Travers. "She 
 wouldn't cry very long or very much. She has one of 
 those hearts which concentrate the whole wealth of their 
 affection upon a single person, and in her case the 
 person has already been found. That person's name is 
 Madge Wilton." 
 
 Norma did not smile at this witticism; but after a 
 minute or so of silence she observed: "Madge is only 
 a child. Circumstances may turn her into a woman
 
 OLD NELL. 97 
 
 any day, and neither you nor I can tell for certain how 
 she will behave then." 
 
 "I can form a guess; the child is mother to the 
 woman. Who is he?" 
 
 "What do you mean?" 
 
 "I mean, who is the man with whom you think she 
 has fallen in love?" 
 
 Norma laughed a little. "Oh, I don't know that 
 she has fallen in love with anybody; it is far more 
 probable that he has fallen in love with her, and as I 
 introduced them to each other, I have a sort of feeling 
 of responsibility. He is Lord Walter Sinclair, whom I 
 met a short time ago at Mrs. Lammergeier's, after an 
 interval of I forget how many years. He was a school- 
 boy once upon a time and now he is a sculptor." 
 
 "Oh, Walter Sinclair, is it? Then there's no great 
 harm done. Walter is a good fellow in his way, but 
 as cold as ice and as prudent as an old woman. I 
 defy Madge to break his heart, and I know he can't 
 break hers, because she hasn't got one to be broken." 
 
 "Well, that's a way of talking; I don't believe in 
 anybody's being heartless at her age. And I think you 
 are wrong about Lord Walter. He isn't impetuous or 
 enthusiastic, perhaps; but still waters run deep." 
 
 "I've known him all his life," said Miss Travers, "if 
 that has anything to do with it." 
 
 There was a short pause, after which Norma asked, 
 "Is he well enough off to marry, do you think?" 
 
 "No; his father left him if 15,000, and his brother 
 is a queer fish. He won't get much from his brother, 
 1 suspect. Now, Norma, if in the kindness of your 
 heart you contemplate encouraging a match between 
 
 Mtss Shaflo. I, 7
 
 9 8 MISS SHAFTO. 
 
 those two, be advised by me and drop it. You'll only- 
 get yourself into trouble, and most assuredly no one will 
 thank you. Let them flirt if they want to flirt; Mrs. 
 Wilton will very soon put a stop to that. When and 
 where do they meet?" 
 
 "They are not in the habit of meeting anywhere," 
 answered Norma; "but last night he came to the theatre 
 with us, and he was certainly very attentive to Madge, 
 and Sir Christopher didn't hke it." 
 
 "Bless your innocence!" exclaimed Miss Travers; 
 " doesn't it occur to you that Madge forced poor Walter 
 to be attentive to her precisely in order that Sir Chris- 
 topher mightn't like it?" 
 
 "Of course that may have been the case; but I 
 don't think it was. It seemed to me that they were 
 both in earnest; and so " 
 
 "And so you are bent upon egging them on to 
 commit an act of suicidal folly. It's some comfort to 
 know that you haven't the remotest chance of suc- 
 ceeding." 
 
 But, as a result of further inquiry, it transpired that 
 Norma did not really harbour the design attributed to 
 her. She said that, so far as she was able to form an 
 oi^inion. Lord Walter and Madge had not very much 
 in common, and the latter, she was persuaded, would 
 never be happy as a poor man's wife. She confessed, 
 however, that she knew next to nothing about Lord 
 Walter, and, judging by the number of questions that 
 she asked about his history, his tastes, his friends and 
 so forth, she was very anxious to learn more. 
 
 Miss Travers replied to the best of her abihty, and 
 was careful not to exhibit a certain disquietude which
 
 OLD NELL. 99 
 
 gradually took possession of her while she was being 
 catechised. But as she slowly descended the staircase, 
 after taking her leave, she muttered under her breath, 
 "Bother that little minx! Norma is too good for any 
 man; still he is a gentleman and an honest fellow, and 
 it would be a great thing to get her safely married and 
 a comfortable sum settled upon her before her father 
 ruins himself." 
 
 And when she stepped into the hansom which was 
 waiting for her at the door she did not at once answer 
 the man's question of "Where to, mum?" It was not 
 until the query had been twice repeated that she re- 
 sponded by giving the address of a rising young sculptor 
 who dwelt in the vicinity of Holland Park. 
 
 Now, at six o'clock in the evening, even though the 
 season be the height of summer, sculptors have generally 
 knocked off work for the day; but Lord Walter had 
 the habits of an amateur , and believed more or less in 
 the theory of inspiration. Thus it not unfrequently 
 happened to him to be idle for a whole week, after 
 which, having been struck by a sudden idea, he would 
 labour for six or seven consecutive hours to put it into 
 execution; and so it was that he was putting the finish- 
 ing touches to a very charming little female head when 
 the head of Miss Travers, which could not truthfully be 
 called either little or charming, was poked through the 
 doorway of his studio. 
 
 "May I come in?" asked the intruder. 
 
 Lord Walter started and turned round. Then, with 
 a smile of welcome upon his lips and in his blue eyes, 
 "My dear Nell," he exclaimed, "of course you may! I 
 had no idea you were in London. Will you sit down here, 
 
 7*
 
 loo MISS SHAFTO. 
 
 or will you come into the drawing-room and have a 
 cup of tea? I possess a drawing-room." 
 
 "Thanks, the studio is good enough for me, and I've 
 had my tea," answered Miss Travers, taking a chair. 
 "I trust that this visit will not compromise you in the 
 eyes of your servants." 
 
 "I don't think it will," answered Lord Walter, 
 laughing. 
 
 "Nor do I; though you might have had the civility 
 to say that you feared it would. One is middle-aged 
 and hard-featured; but one has one's feelings, all the 
 same. You don't seem to have a large collection of 
 wares on hand. What is that thing that you're at 
 work upon?" 
 
 She rose and scrutinized the clay which Lord Walter 
 had been manipulating. 
 
 "I haven't hit upon a name for it yet," he answered. 
 "It's a girl's head." 
 
 "That much I am able to discern by the light of 
 my own unassisted intelligence. And I may add that 
 it's an uncommonly poor likeness. Deprive Madge 
 Wilton of her eyes, and you won't find much left in 
 her worth looking at. Anyhow, you certainly won't find 
 a mouth or a nose like those." 
 
 Lord Walter did not seem embarrassed. "And yet 
 you recognize it at a glance," he observed. "That 
 looks as if it couldn't be so very bad. Besides, who 
 told you that it was meant for a likeness? Miss Wilton 
 gave me an idea, and I endeavoured to improve upon 
 it, that's all." 
 
 Miss Travers grunted. "Well," said she, "there's 
 no denying that you have improved upon the original.
 
 OLD NELL. lOI 
 
 Why you should have selected such an original, when 
 you might have taken Norma Shafto instead, I don't 
 understand." 
 
 "You would if you were an artist, Nell. For one 
 thing. Miss Shafto couldn't be improved upon. Then 
 the habitual expression of her face would be extremely 
 difficult to catch. It is constantly changing; although 
 the general effect that she produces is that of a calm, 
 self-reliant person. Now Miss Wilton's habitual ex- 
 pression isn't in the least difficult to catch — and I think 
 you must admit that I have caught it." 
 
 "Oh, you've caught it right enough; the question is 
 whether it was worth catching. However, I don't want 
 to dictate to you what models you should choose. After 
 all, if I had found you attempting to model a likeness 
 of Norma, I should have thought it pretty cool of you." 
 
 "Exactly so; that's just what I should have thought 
 of myself. But there's nothing divine about Miss Wilton, 
 you see; one may take any liberties with her features 
 and expression and feel no compunction at all when 
 one has been found out." 
 
 "Oh, that's it, is it? And now let us proceed to 
 business. Have you, by any chance, seen Loddon- 
 dale lately?" 
 
 "Oddly enough, I have," answered Lord Walter. 
 "He honoured me with a call a short time ago, and 
 I can't recollect that he has ever in the whole course 
 of his existence done such a thing before." 
 
 "Then, my dear, good friend," exclaimed Miss 
 Travers earnestly, "for Heaven's sake tell me whether 
 Nugget is going to win the Stockbridge Cup!" 
 
 "I don't know what you'll think of me when I con-
 
 102 MISS SHAFTO. 
 
 fess that I never asked. I was not personally interested, 
 because I don't bet, and I couldn't foresee that I should 
 be consulted by you. But if I had asked, I shouldn't 
 have been answered." 
 
 "Probably not; but I thought something might 
 have leaked out in the course of conversation. Wasn't 
 he brotherly enough to give you a single tip?" 
 
 "He was not. I doubt whether he would consider 
 it any part of his duty as a brother to give me in- 
 formation about his horses. As a matter of fact, we 
 never mentioned racing at all." 
 
 "Never mentioned racing!" ejaculated Miss Travers 
 incredulously. "Then what in the name of goodness 
 did you talk about? I don't see how anybody could be 
 five minutes in Loddondale's company without mention- 
 ing racing." 
 
 "Well, we had family affairs to discuss; we hadn't 
 met since my poor old father died. And then Loddon- 
 dale gave me his notions about the sculptor's art." 
 
 "They must have been worth listening to, I should 
 think. No allusion to the Newmarket July, or Sandown, 
 or Goodwood?" 
 
 "Not the faintest, I am sorry to say." 
 
 Miss Travers glanced at her watch and rose. "Under 
 those circumstances," she remarked, "I may as well take 
 myself off. I'm sorry you don't think it worth while to 
 profit by your relationship to a man who owns some of 
 the best horses in England." 
 
 "I'm Sony you think it worth your while to back 
 two-year-olds about whom nothing is known," returned 
 Lord Walter, laughing. " Nugget" may turn out a mar- 
 vellous performer; as far as I am aware, he has scarcely
 
 OLD NELL. 103 
 
 been tried yet. But I do recollect the fact that his 
 sire was a roarer." 
 
 "Now, my dear Walter," said Miss Travers, "you 
 mind your own business and leave me to mind mine. 
 If you never make a greater fool of yourself than I have 
 done hitherto, you'll get on pretty well." 
 
 She moved towards the door, but paused before she 
 reached it and added, as an afterthought, "Well, if I 
 were you, I should destroy that head. Sir Christopher 
 Shearman is one of those ill-bred people who are apt 
 to kick up a row if their wives' features are delivered 
 over to the public in an unauthorized edition, and of 
 course you know that they are going to marry him to 
 Madge." 
 
 "Is that quite settled?" 
 
 "It isn't announced, but I believe it's settled. He 
 is willing; so is Mrs. Wilton; and Madge conceals under 
 a thin veil of unreasonableness one of the most reason- 
 able dispositions that any mother could wish to have to 
 deal with. You aren't smitten with her, are you? I 
 should be sorry for you if you were. I shouldn't be 
 so sorry for you if you were smitten with Norma Shafto; 
 though of course Norma would never look at you." 
 
 "I should have thought that in that case you might 
 have found some pity for the victim of a hopeless at- 
 tachment." 
 
 "No; because it is good for everybody to have a 
 high ideal, however unattainable it may be. If you see 
 Loddondale again, try to find out something about 
 Nugget, will you? I'm a busy woman, and I've wasted 
 my time upon a fruitless errand this afternoon. Good- 
 bye."
 
 I04 MISS SHAFTO. 
 
 CHAPTER IX. 
 
 LORD WALTER BUYS A BOX. 
 
 Lord Walter was not ungrateful to his old friend 
 Nell Travers for having come out all the way to Holland 
 Park to see him. She meant kindly, no doubt, and her 
 counsel, so far as it went, was excellent; only it really 
 wasn't needed. He said to himself, as he stood gazing 
 at the little head which had so unmistakable a look of 
 Madge Wilton, that he was quite sure it wasn't needed. 
 One has fancies; everybody has fancies from time to 
 time. They serve to brighten the monotony of existence, 
 and they are absolutely harmless, so long as those who 
 harbour them are careful not to lose their heads. Now 
 if there was one thing about which Lord Walter was 
 more positive than another, it was that he was never in 
 any danger of losing his head. He was just as little 
 likely to lose his heart. If he had known that he had 
 been described a short time previously as being as 
 cold as ice, he would have been rather pleased than 
 otherwise. He knew that in reality he was not so; but 
 it would have been quite satisfactory to him that others 
 should think him so, because that would be evidence 
 that he was able to keep his emotions under control. 
 
 That his emotions could hurry him into anything so 
 ridiculous as a passion for Madge Wilton he had no 
 fear at all. He flattered himself that he knew a little
 
 LORD WALTER BUYS A BOX. 10$ 
 
 about feminine character, and hers was a very easy 
 one to read. She was honestly, childishly selfish; her 
 chief anxiety was to get as much amusement as she 
 could out of a sad world; probably her powers of re- 
 sistance were slight, and she would yield to maternal 
 or other pressure rather than have a fuss about any- 
 thing. She would doubtless end by marrying Sir 
 Christopher; and then — well, what would happen then 
 was rather difficult to predict; but the chances were in 
 favour of her accommodating herself to circumstances. 
 She was not the sort of person to worry over senti- 
 mental troubles, so long as plenty of creature comforts 
 were provided for her. All this did not of course 
 prevent her from being extremely pretty and extremely 
 charming, and Lord Walter would not perhaps have 
 dissected her in so cold-blooded a manner if he had 
 not been desirous of assuring himself of the coolness 
 of his blood. 
 
 Having achieved that end, he felt at liberty to be 
 a little sorry for her. Madge Wilton, if only the crooked 
 could be made straight, ought to have been provided 
 with a young, handsome, and devoted lover, whose in- 
 come should be equivalent to Sir Christopher Shear- 
 man's. It was a great pity that no such person was 
 forthcoming, and Lord Walter spent some minutes in 
 imagining himself such a person, although he took care 
 to guard against the aberrations of a too exuberant 
 fancy by bearing in mind that a life spent with Madge 
 Wilton would by no means realize his own aspirations. 
 Norma Shafto was, as old Nell had very truly said, a 
 fitter ideal to worship, and he did not quite see why 
 he should have been told in so off-hand a way that
 
 106 MISS SHAFTO. 
 
 Norma would never look at him. However, for some 
 reason or other, that line of thought was distasteful to 
 him, and he soon abandoned it. 
 
 It was barely twenty-four hours later that this man 
 of well-balanced mind set forth to call upon Mrs. and 
 Miss Wilton, whose address had been obligingly fur- 
 nished to him by the latter. In fact, to be strictly 
 accurate, it was only about twenty hours later, and con- 
 sequently a little too early in the day to. call upon any- 
 body. Lord Walter, for the benefit of his health, 
 walked the whole way, and having crossed Kensington 
 Gardens and Hyde Park, found himself in Bond Street 
 at a time when most people are doing their shopping. 
 The contagion of example may have led him to pay 
 more attention than usual to the shop- windows , and it 
 was natural enough that, on reaching the premises of 
 a certain dealer in antiquities, he should have stood for 
 a few seconds staring at an enamel snuff-box which 
 was exhibited amongst other curiosities to attract the 
 passers-by, and of which Miss Wilton had chanced to 
 speak to him at the theatre. "The dearest little old box 
 you ever saw in your life!'' she had said. "Don't you 
 love little boxes? When I see things of that kind I 
 long more than ever to be rich." 
 
 The box, as Lord Walter's scrutiny satisfied him, 
 was by no means a bad specimen of its kind, and it 
 would, he felt, be matter for regret if it should be 
 acquired by some rich person who in all probability 
 would not appreciate it. He thought he would just 
 step into the shop and inquire the price. This, when 
 stated to him by the obsequious dealer, proved to be 
 somewhat startling; but then, as the dealer very
 
 LORD Walter buvs a box. 107 
 
 reasonably pointed out, a fancy article must needs 
 command a fancy price. Work such as that was daily 
 becoming more and more rare, and he believed that if 
 he were to consult his own interest he should keep it 
 locked up for another year or two. Besides, the box 
 in question possessed associations which enhanced its 
 value, having once been the property of the Empress 
 Maria Theresa. 
 
 Lord Walter contended that that was absolutely im- 
 possible and gave reasons for his contention. There- 
 upon the dealer consulted a memorandum-book, and 
 without moving a muscle said he found he had made 
 a little mistake: he should have said Marie Antoinette. 
 After this there was a somewhat prolonged haggle, 
 which ended, as both parties to it had known all along 
 that it would end, in the snuff-box passing into the 
 possession and pocket of Lord Walter, who walked off 
 Avith it to his club in St. James's Street. 
 
 As he was passing through the hall of that building 
 he was accosted by a fussy, bustling little middle-aged 
 person with a snub nose and an eyeglass. This was 
 the Honourable Algernon Winstanley-Pettie, M.P., a Junior 
 Lord of the Treasury and a frequenter of society in so 
 far as his arduous Parliamentary labours would allow. 
 He said, "How do you do, Sinclair? Saw you at the 
 theatre the other night. Who was that uncommonly 
 handsome woman whom you were with? The tall one 
 I mean." 
 
 "A Miss Shafto," answered Lord Walter. "Her 
 father has a place down in Stourshire, near Warbury." 
 
 "Oh, a Miss Shafto; I thought she looked like a
 
 I08 MISS SHAFTO. 
 
 married woman. Anyhow, she is remarkably handsome. 
 I haven't seen such a handsome face for a long time." 
 
 Mr. Pettie paid this tribute to Norma's personal 
 attractions in the tone of one who knows that his praise 
 is valuable, yet \vill not grudge it to those who deserve 
 praise. "The other," he went on presently, "was pretty 
 too, though in quite an inferior style. A younger 
 sister?" 
 
 "No; a Miss Wilton," replied Lord Walter, wonder- 
 ing whether he would now be asked how it had come 
 to pass that two unmarried ladies had shown themselves 
 at a theatre without a chaperon. 
 
 But apparently that point had escaped the notice 
 of Mr, Pettie, who said, "Oh, Miss Wilton, was it? I 
 thought perhaps it might be when I saw Shearman 
 sitting beside her. It struck me that poor Shearman 
 wasn't enjoying himself much. The young lady seemed 
 to talk a good deal more to you than to him, I thought. 
 Is she a friend of yours?" 
 
 "Only a slight acquaintance," Lord Walter answered, 
 and added, he hardly knew why, "Do you know any- 
 thing about her?" 
 
 "Oh yes, I know all about her. Sister to Mrs. Lacy 
 and Lady Huddersfield. Has a managing old mamma 
 who has done pretty well with her daughters hitherto, 
 and means to do well again, it seems. Shearman, as 
 of course you know, has any amount of coin. Not that 
 I should particularly care to marry him myself, if I 
 were a young woman," concluded Mr. Pettie with a 
 laugh. 
 
 "Wliy not?" Lord Walter inquired. "Is there any- 
 thing against him?"
 
 LORD WALTER BUYS A BOX. lOQ 
 
 "Well, he's a lout, you know, and they say he's 
 rather too good a judge of whisky. Shoots well, though, 
 and will vote on the right side when he gets into the 
 House, as I hear he is anxious to do. Fancy a man 
 being anxious to get into Parliament in these days! I 
 wish I could see my way to get out of it, I know ! " 
 
 "But of course you can't be spared." 
 
 "Oh, I don't know; nobody is indispensable," said 
 Mr. Pettie, who really thought that if anybody was he 
 v,as. "I suppose I must hold on till the next general 
 election; but it's a great bore. One has no time to go 
 about and see one's friends; I'm afraid I shan't even 
 find time to be introduced to Miss Shafto, much as I 
 should like it. In point of fact, I ought to be off to 
 Westminster now." 
 
 Mr. Pettie bustled away, and Lord Walter, betaking 
 himself to the reading-room, sat down behind a news- 
 paper which he did not peruse. It was odd that the 
 above careless remarks should have annoyed him; he 
 himself thought it odd; but there was no doubt as to 
 the fact. He even went so far as to utter certain ob- 
 jurgations against a social system which he had hitherto 
 regarded with philosophic calm. Really, when you came 
 to think of it, it was monstrous that a mere child like 
 Madge Wilton should be delivered over for life to one 
 who was certainly what Mr. Pettie had called him, a 
 lout, and who was more likely than not to develop into 
 a drunkard. How can mothers do such things! 
 
 They do such things cheerfully and thankfully every 
 day, as Lord Walter knew; but perhaps he had never 
 before felt so shocked at them and disgusted with them. 
 
 When he had made an end of morahzing, and judged
 
 I 10 MISS SHAFTO. 
 
 that the hour for paying visits had arrived, he strolled 
 slowly to the small private hotel in Dover Street where 
 Mrs. Wilton had taken up her quarters for the season. 
 As luck would have it, he was still waiting for some- 
 body to appear in answer to his ring, when a hired 
 brougham stopped at the door and Madge herself 
 stepped lightly out on to the pavement. 
 
 "Are you here for the purpose of calling upon us?" 
 she asked, favouring him with a particularly bright 
 smile. "How nice of you! Do come in. I don't know 
 whether mamma is at home; but if she isn't, she -will 
 be soon." 
 
 So he followed her, nothing loth, as she ran upstairs 
 and flung open the door of a rather dingy little sitting- 
 room; and perhaps he was not very much disappointed 
 when, in answer to Madge's inquiry, the waiter announced 
 that Mrs. Wilton had not yet come in. 
 
 "Then bring up tea," said Madge — "and muffins. 
 Do you hke muffins?" she asked, turning to Lord Walter, 
 "or shall we have some cake?" 
 
 "Muffins, please," answered Lord Walter, who was 
 not particularly fond of that leathery form of nourish- 
 ment, but was anxious to consult the tastes of his enter- 
 tainer. 
 
 "Well," said Madge, after seriously considering the 
 point for a moment, "perhaps we had better have both. 
 Then we can choose. Now sit down and make yourself 
 comfortable." 
 
 It may be remembered that Lord Walter's first im- 
 pression of Miss Wilton had been that she was very 
 shy; but first impressions are not always to be relied 
 upon, and he perceived that in this instance he had
 
 LORD WALTER BUYS A BOX. I I I 
 
 been misled. There are people who appear shy to the 
 general public, but who are as easy and expansive as 
 possible towards a favoured few, and such persons are 
 naturally liked by the favoured few, who recognize in 
 them the gift of just appreciation. Lord Walter thought 
 it very pretty of Madge to open the heap of parcels 
 which had been carried upstairs for her and to ask his 
 opinion upon their contents. 
 
 "I have been doing an afternoon's shopping," she 
 explained, "and I am completely ruined. Still one 
 must be clad, mustn't one? Now tell me whether these 
 two shades really blend. I suppose, being an artist, 
 you know something about colour, though you don't 
 belong to the painting division." 
 
 He was able to reply that the shades submitted to 
 him could be harmoniously combined, and he was also 
 able to compliment her upon the taste displayed in the 
 selection of her other purchases. 
 
 "I have been shopping too," he remarked, after 
 these had been fully discussed. "At least, I have been 
 to one shop and done one successful deal." There- 
 upon he produced his prize, taking it out of the silver 
 paper in which it was wrapped. 
 
 "Oh, my beloved little box!" exclaimed Madge, 
 clasping her hands. "And to think it was I who put 
 you on the track of it! Well, I am glad it is to be 
 yours, since it never can be mine." 
 
 "But it is yours, if you will have it," said Lord 
 Walter, smiling. "I bought it for you." 
 
 In spite of the matter-of-course tone in which he 
 made this announcement, he was conscious of a certain 
 feeling of uneasiness, of some doubt as to whether she
 
 1 1 2 MISS SHAFTO. 
 
 would accept so valuable a present from him, possibly 
 even of a slight misgiving as to the propriety of his 
 offering it to her. But her manner of responding con- 
 vinced him that, as regarded one of these points at 
 any rate, he need not have disturbed himself She took 
 the proffered gift from his hand with a little cry of de- 
 light, examined it closely, and then, raising a soft pair 
 of eyes, beaming with gratitude, to his, exclaimed, " Oh, 
 you are nice!" 
 
 After a pause, she resumed, "What made you think 
 of getting it for me?" 
 
 "Well," he answered, laughing, "I thought you 
 seemed to want it." 
 
 "Of course I wanted it; I would have given my 
 ears for it! But never in my Avildest dreams did I 
 imagine that it would come into my possession. I 
 shall always keep it," she added, stroking it affec- 
 tionately, "and it will always remind me of you." 
 
 Now such a speech as that, when seen in uncom- 
 promising print, appears, it must be confessed, a trifle 
 warm, not to say unbecoming, and indeed Mrs. Wilton, 
 if she had heard it, might not have approved of it. 
 But then all depends upon the way in which things are 
 said, and Lord Walter, for his part, was quite sure that 
 this dear little girl meant no more by her thanks than 
 she would have meant in the not far distant days when 
 she had been still in the nursery. However, he could 
 not help thinking her a dear httle girl, and he hoped 
 that her mother would not turn up just yet to inter- 
 rupt a conversation which had been so pleasantly ini- 
 tiated.
 
 LORD WALTER BUYS A BOX. II3 
 
 His hopes were realized. Mrs. Wilton did not ap- 
 pear, and Madge and he partook of their muffins to- 
 gether in contentment and privacy. How, after touching 
 upon a variety of other topics, they came to talk about 
 Sir Christopher Shearman, he could not afterwards 
 clearly remember. It would have been more prudent, 
 no doubt, to avoid mentioning Sir Christopher; but 
 since his name was introduced, it was perhaps unavoid- 
 able that he should be spoken of disparagingly. Lord 
 Walter really behaved very well. All that he said — 
 and that was said only in obedience to urgent persuasion 
 — was, that in his opinion Sir Christopher was not 
 exactly a gentleman. 
 
 But Madge was a good deal less discreet. She 
 said, "I think he is a perfectly horrid man! So cross 
 and ill-tempered! And I do hate that way he has of 
 sitting close to one and talking into one's face." 
 
 Lord Walter observed that he had not personally 
 suffered from this habit of Sir Christopher's, but that 
 he could well believe it to be disagreeable. 
 
 "And then," continued Madge dolefully, "he is 
 always bothering me to dance with him. There is no 
 pleasure in going to a ball when one knows that Sir 
 Christopher will be lying in ambush at the foot of the 
 stairs, ready to book half a dozen dances the moment 
 that one appears." 
 
 "But surely it isn't necessary to give him all that 
 he asks for?" 
 
 Madge shook her head and sighed. "A great many 
 things are necessary," said she oracularly, "which may 
 not appear so to those who don't know. Besides, one 
 can't very well say that one is engaged when one is 
 
 Miss Shafto. I. S
 
 114 
 
 INIISS SHAFTO. 
 
 intercepted before reaching the ball-room. It is a mean 
 advantage to take. But he takes it." 
 
 Lord Walter laughed. "The only remedy I can 
 suggest," said he, "is that I should procure invitations 
 to all the balls that you are going to. Then, upon your 
 arrival, you will find me waiting for you under the 
 portico beside the linkman, and I will at once request 
 you to give me every dance upon the programme, 
 except two squares, which may be. thrown as a sop to 
 Sir Christopher. I need hardly add that you will be at 
 liberty to discard me afterwards. I should only claim 
 a small commission — say, ten per cent." 
 
 "Perhaps I might be willing to give you more than 
 that, if you cared to have more," Madge returned. "I 
 am sure you dance well. One can always tell by look- 
 ing at people whether they will be good partners or 
 not, don't you think so?" 
 
 This kind of talk went on for another quarter of an 
 hour, at the expiration of which time Mrs. Wilton came 
 in and put a stop to it. Mrs. Wilton was civil, but not 
 very cordial. She evidently wondered why Lord Walter 
 had been admitted in her absence, and did not seem 
 quite satisfied with his explanation that he had met 
 Miss Wilton at the door and had been induced to come 
 in and wait a few minutes. Conversation was kept up 
 with difficulty, and met \vith no support from Madge, 
 who immediately upon her mother's entrance became 
 once more the demure young lady whom Lord Walter 
 had received in his studio. He stayed a little longer 
 for form's sake, but took his leave as soon as he could 
 decently do so. 
 
 One thing he noticed, and that was the abrupt dis-
 
 - LAMMERGEIER AS AN ORATOR. I 1 5 
 
 appearance of the enamel snuff-box. He was glad that 
 it should have vanished, because, under all the circum- 
 stances, he did not particularly wish Mrs. Wilton to see 
 it; but at the same time its concealment struck him as 
 suggestive. Furthermore, it struck him that if he did 
 not mind what he was about he might get himself as 
 well as somebody else into trouble. 
 
 CHAPTER X. 
 
 LAMMERGEIER AS AN ORATOR. 
 
 It is the prerogative of the wealthy and distinguished 
 to follow the bent of their caprice or fancy in selecting 
 friends for themselves. The rest of us cannot do this, 
 because there is no certainty that our advances will be 
 received with gratitude; so we have to wait until people 
 show some signs of a disposition to like us before we 
 venture to proclaim our liking for them. Mrs. Lammer- 
 geier, if not distinguished, was extremely wealthy, and 
 Mrs. Lammergeier had taken a fancy to Norma Shafto. 
 This being so, previous experience would have justified 
 her in assuming that she had only to make her senti- 
 ments known in order to obtain an assurance that they 
 were reciprocated; but she was a woman who possessed 
 some insight into character, and probably one of her 
 reasons for being attracted by Norma was that she 
 suspected her of differing from the ordinary run of 
 human beings in certain respects. Instead therefore of 
 inviting Miss Shafto to drive in the Park with her and
 
 1 I 6 MISS SHAFTO. 
 
 taking her back to dinner afterwards, she presented her- 
 self in Upper Belgrave Street one morning and an- 
 nounced that she had a favour to ask. 
 
 Now anybody who requested a favour of this singular 
 young woman might count upon its being granted, if 
 that were in any way possible, and might count also 
 upon giving her pleasure by the mere fact of making 
 the request. Some people are constituted after that 
 odd fashion. Moreover the particular favour which Mrs. 
 Lammergeier had decided to solicit was one which no 
 right-minded and tender-hearted person could have 
 wished to refuse. 
 
 "I want you to take me in hand, Miss Shafto," she 
 began, in her abrupt way. "I serve no useful purpose 
 whatsoever in the world, except to entertain my hus- 
 band's friends, and whether even that is a useful func- 
 tion seems open to question. I hear you are engaged 
 in a number of schemes for improving the condition of 
 the working classes. Don't you think you might turn 
 me to account in a subordinate capacity?" 
 
 "I'm only a subordinate myself," answered Norma; 
 "but no doubt I could easily find work for you to do 
 if you are quite sure that you won't find it distasteful. 
 Most people, you know, do find it distasteful — and dis- 
 couraging too." 
 
 "I am not likely to be discouraged," Mrs. Lammer- 
 geier declared; "I have no extravagant expectations. 
 And I defy you to provide me with any occupation or 
 duties more distasteful to me than my present ones. 
 When I am not standing at the head of my own stair- 
 case I am climbing up the staircases of other people. 
 It is the same story night after night and week after
 
 LAMMERGEIER AS AN ORATOR. I I 7 
 
 week, and words can't express how sick I am of it. 
 This eternal getting up stairs is hke being put upon the 
 treadmill in more ways than one. Hermann and I plod 
 doggedly on; but we don't get any higher, and, be- 
 tween you and me, I doubt whether we ever shall. 
 Suppose, however — for everything is conceivable — that 
 we do eventually reach the top landing and stay there: 
 what then? Some fine day we shall die; and it doesn't 
 seem to me that having been asked to Buckingham 
 Palace or Marlborough House will be any great comfort 
 to me upon my death-bed. Whereas it might be a 
 comfort to think that I had tried to make a few of my 
 fellow -creatures a little less miserable. One under- 
 stands the ambition of a noiweatt riche who has a family; 
 but I have no children." 
 
 The last words were spoken with a touch of genuine 
 sadness which at once enlisted Nomia's sympathies. 
 That same evening Mrs. Lammergeier (disregarding 
 several previous engagements for the purpose) was con- 
 ducted to a part of London which had hitherto been 
 as unknown to her as Central Africa, and was brought 
 into contact with persons of whose existence she had 
 only been aware in the same way as one is aware of 
 the existence of certain savage tribes. Work, too, was 
 found for her which she cheerfully undertook and con- 
 scientiously performed; although she perceived from the 
 outset that Norma and her associates were endeavour- 
 ing to grapple with a problem far too big for them. 
 However, she attained what, after all, had been her 
 original object in that she secured a friend for herself. 
 
 "I believe she is a good woman, and I don't think 
 she is a very happy one," Norma said to Mr. Shafto,
 
 Il8 MISS SHAFTO. 
 
 who had noticed "wdth pleasure the intimacy which had 
 sprung up between the rich financier's wife and his 
 daughter, and who rephed with a laugh — 
 
 "My dear child, if she isn't happy she must be 
 rather hard to please. But I suppose no woman likes 
 to admit that she has got all she wants." 
 
 That, perhaps, is an admission which would not be 
 very willingly made by man or woman, and could not 
 truthfully be made by any appreciable portion of the 
 inhabitants of the world. The people on whose behalf 
 Norma and Mrs. Lammergeier were exerting themselves 
 wanted a great many things, and to all appearance 
 were exceedingly unlikely to get them: yet they were 
 not much given to repining. 
 
 "It seems impossible that they can enjoy life," Mrs. 
 Lammergeier exclaimed one day, with a shade of im- 
 patience; "but, upon my word and honour, I believe 
 they do!" 
 
 "It is a very good thing that they do," said Norma. 
 
 "Well, that's as may be. If I were one of them I 
 think I should wish for a rather more widespread feel- 
 ing of discontent. Did you ever hear a debate in the 
 House of Commons?" 
 
 Norma shook her head. 
 
 "Come with me to-morrow evening, and you will 
 have the advantage of listening to a philanthropic ora- 
 tion from Hermann. Hermann is ahvays an effective 
 speaker; but when he gets on to the subject of bene- 
 volence he is nothing short of sublime. To-morrow 
 some wiseacre or other is going to bring forward a 
 motion to the effect that the condition of the working 
 classes demands inquiry, and Hermann, I believe, means
 
 LAMMERGEIER AS AN ORATOR. 1 I Q 
 
 to back him up. We needn't stay long if you find it 
 dull; but I assure you that there are times when a 
 debate in the House is as amusing as any play." 
 
 The House of Commons, we are often told, is not 
 an imposing assembly, and no one is fonder of saying 
 this than its own members, but after all any assembly 
 is imposing or other\vise in accordance with the im- 
 pression produced upon the mind of the spectator, 
 which impression depends more upon the mind of the 
 spectator than upon the assembly. Norma, when she 
 looked down upon the line of Conservative statesmen 
 who were at that time in office, and upon the opposing 
 phalanx, headed by Mr. Gladstone and supplemented 
 by the forces of Mr. Parnell, was a good deal impressed, 
 feeling that she was in the presence of men who ruled 
 the destinies of a vast empire. Their manner of doing 
 so may not be altogether dignified, their attitudes may 
 not convey the idea that they realize the fulness of 
 their responsibility, their methods of expressing approval 
 and displeasure can scarcely be called refined, but the 
 fact remains that they can give effect to their wishes — 
 at least, a few of them can — and this, in Norma's 
 opinion, made them interesting to watch. 
 
 Mrs. Lammergeier's view was perhaps more super- 
 ficial. "A lot of naughty little schoolboys who wanted 
 to get a rise out of their masters would behave just like 
 that, if they hadn't the fear of the birch before their eyes," 
 she whispered. "There is an individual called Black 
 Rod who sometimes makes his appearance here, but 
 his functions are not what you might suppose from his 
 name, more's the pity!" 
 
 But this was during question time, while unhappy
 
 I20 MISS SHAFTO. 
 
 Ministers were being badgered and baited by their ad- 
 versaries. That form of sport having at length become 
 exhausted, somebody moved the adjournment of the 
 House for the consideration of a matter of urgent 
 pubHc importance; and so the question of what was to 
 be done with the unemployed came on. 
 
 At that season of the year the unemployed were 
 neither numerous nor menacing; but they had been 
 both in the course of the preceding winter, and their 
 claims to attention would have been brought before 
 the House earlier if the debate upon the Address and 
 certain bills which demanded an immense amount of 
 discussion had not blocked the way. The British public, 
 in point of fact, had arrived, as it so frequently does 
 in the presence of difficulties, at a vague conclusion 
 that "sometliing ought to be done;" in other words, 
 that a Royal Commission ought to be appointed with 
 a view to shelving the question for a time. This being 
 a proposition which commanded general assent, a plain 
 man might have thought that there was no great need 
 for talking about it. However several well-informed 
 persons were fully determined to talk about it; and 
 amongst these was Baron Lammergeier. 
 
 \\1ien Norma saw the swarthy little man rise, adjust 
 his pince-nez and tuck his hands under his coat-tails, 
 she glanced for an instant at her neighbour, upon 
 whose rather thin lips a cynical smile was perceptible. 
 Norma had never heard Baron Lammergeier speak be- 
 fore; but from what she had seen of him in private 
 life, she did not imagine that his oratory would be of 
 a very attractive description. Nevertheless, before he 
 had been ten minutes on his legs, she was listening to
 
 LAMMERGEIER AS AN ORATOR. 121 
 
 him with interest and curiosity. He had a decidedly 
 Hebraic method of enunciation; the letter S was a 
 stumbling-block to him, and he seemed to be suffering 
 from a slight cold in the head; yet he spoke clearly 
 and in short telling sentences. His speech was tem- 
 perate and not very sanguine in tone; though it ap- 
 peared that, while deprecating the principle of State 
 interference, he was in favour of the Royal Commission. 
 It did not, when summed up, amount to very much 
 more than an expression of opinion that the duty of 
 the State is to be economical and the duty of the in- 
 dividual is to be generous; but its commonplaces were 
 well put and — perhaps because they were common- 
 places — were well received. 
 
 Norma was both pleased and surprised. "I agree 
 with every word that he said," she declared, turning to 
 the orator's wife, who smiled and remarked — 
 
 "I told you that Hermann was an effective speaker." 
 
 The fact is that Norma, in common, it may be, 
 with a good many others who had been listening to 
 Baron Lammergeier, had gathered that that gentleman 
 was himself generous, as well as cool-headed and far- 
 sighted. 
 
 "Hermann," observed Mrs. Lammergeier presently, 
 "knows how to suit himself to his audience; and that, 
 no doubt, is half the battle. He has several styles. 
 You have heard him here; perhaps you would like 
 to hear him on the stump next. All things considered, 
 I am not sure that I don't prefer him on the stump." 
 
 Thus it was that, not many days after this. Norma, 
 in company with a number of other ladies and gen- 
 tlemen, took her place upon the platform of a large
 
 122 MISS SHAFTO. 
 
 public hall wherein Baron Lammergeier proposed to 
 deliver an address to his constituents. These inhabited 
 one of the western districts of London and were for 
 the most part Conservatives, as beseems those who 
 have something to lose. They had however a very fair 
 sprinkling of disinterested Radicals among them, and 
 as Lammergeier never attempted to exclude political 
 opponents from his meetings, there was every prospect 
 of his being a good deal interrupted before he brought 
 his discourse to a close. 
 
 "That is what he likes," Mrs. Lammergeier ex- 
 plained to Norma. "Hermann is the happy possessor 
 of an imperturbable temper and a sound pair of lungs. 
 He is under the impression that he never holds a meet- 
 ing without making converts; but whether that is a 
 correct theory or not I don't pretend to say." 
 
 It was at any rate quite a plausible one. By the 
 time that the orator had got into full swing he had 
 evidently put his audience in a good humour; which, 
 as most public speakers are aware, is no such simple 
 feat to accomplish. He did not in the least mind being 
 shouted at or hissed; he waited smiHngly till the hub- 
 bub had subsided and then went on. Some of his 
 rejoinders were extremely happy, and he had a deft 
 fashion of insinuating that he was in the counsels of 
 the Ministry which was not without effect. The Lam- 
 mergeier of the House of Commons was a shrewd, 
 practical man of business; the Lammergeier of the plat- 
 form was a jovial, humorous politician who seemed 
 determined to justify the character attributed to him by 
 his supporters when they welcomed him with a chorus 
 of "For he's a jolly good fellow."
 
 LAMMERGEIER AS AN ORATOR. I23 
 
 Some of them had reasons, perhaps, for thinking 
 him a jolly good fellow. Bribery and corruption have 
 been put an end to by the Legislature; but what Act 
 of Parliament can suppress the promptings of a gener- 
 ous heart when no election is imminent? It may even 
 be that many of those who yelled at Baron Lammer- 
 geier were not really anxious to get rid of so open- 
 handed a representative. 
 
 As for Norma, circumstances prevented her from 
 drawing any comparison between the present harangue 
 and that to which she had been privileged to listen at 
 Westminster; for the speaker had hardly finished his 
 exordium when somebody slipped into a chair behind 
 her, and Lord Walter's voice whispered in her ear, 
 "Do you find this sort of thing as entertaining as a 
 burlesque?" 
 
 "I haven't had time to judge yet," she answered. 
 "Do you?" 
 
 "Not quite, I think. Lammergeier is sometimes 
 amusing; but I can't say that I came here with any 
 anticipation of being amused." 
 
 "Why did you come, then? Are you going to make 
 a speech?" 
 
 "Heaven forbid! But I am a humble constituent of 
 the Baron's, and I have eaten his salt more than once, 
 and as he did me the honour to request my presence 
 this evening, the path of duty seemed plain. I have 
 been rewarded by meeting you. After all, burlesque 
 and political speeches depend more for their attractive- 
 ness upon the company in which one listens to them 
 than upon their intrinsic merits."
 
 124 MISS SHAFTO. 
 
 "Is that why you don't find this performance quite 
 as entertaining as the performance of the other night?" 
 
 The question was put with a smile, and to those 
 who do not chance to be in love it may seem rather 
 odd that Lord Walter, so far from protesting, was per- 
 ceptibly pleased by Miss Shafto's innuendo. Love is 
 proverbially blind; lovers are doubtless apt to be fools, 
 and the wisest of them, while suffering from this ma- 
 lady, are no whit less foolish than their neighbours. 
 King Solomon himself, who appears to have been a 
 lover upon an unusually extensive scale, got himself 
 into serious trouble, as we know, through his suscepti- 
 bility. So Lord Walter, who had by this time reached 
 the point of admitting to himself that he was in love 
 with Madge Wilton, began to talk about her at once, 
 feeling instinctively that he had got hold of a sym- 
 pathetic auditor. 
 
 It is too bad of people who have been provided 
 with places upon a platform for the express purpose of 
 having their minds improved by one of the prominent 
 politicians of the day to keep up a subdued murmur of 
 conversation throughout his most brilliant periods; but 
 such things will occur and do occur, and as Baron 
 Lammergeier's back was turned towards this couple it 
 may be hoped that his feelings Avere not hurt by their 
 scandalous inattention. Mrs. Lammergeier, who watched 
 them out of the corner of her eye, freely forgave them 
 and was not ill-pleased to see them upon such intimat 
 terms. She thought them an extremely handsome 
 couple, as indeed they were — he bending fonvard and 
 talking eagerly, and she with her head slightly tilted 
 back to listen to him. They looked a great deal more 
 
 ir 
 
 A
 
 LAMMERGEIER AS AN ORATQR. 125 
 
 like lovers than friends; and how was Mrs. Lammer- 
 geier to guess that between them they were hatching a 
 plot which could only be expected to end in disappoint- 
 ment and disaster? 
 
 This plot, it is true, was not expressly formulated. 
 Lord Walter did not say in so many words that he was 
 determined to marry Madge Wilton if she would have 
 him, nor did Norma promise to give him all the help 
 in her power; but they understood one another, and 
 perhaps Lord Walter had some reason for whispering 
 gratefully, when the meeting broke up, "You are more 
 than kind to me, Miss Shafto; I don't know what right 
 I have to inflict my antiquated notions upon you." 
 
 Norma laughed. "But my notions are antiquated 
 too, you see," she remarked. 
 
 What had she said to him? No more than what 
 she conscientiously thought. She had agreed with him 
 that manages de convenance are detestable; she had ad- 
 mitted that Sir Christopher Shearman without his money 
 would not be worthy of Madge; she had confessed that 
 she would a thousand times rather see Madge married 
 to a man who loved her and whom she loved than to 
 a millionaire, and she had hinted that, should such a 
 personage be forthcoming, he might count upon her 
 favour and support. In all this there was nothing to 
 retract or regret; yet, as she drove home -with Mrs. 
 Lammergeier, she seemed tired and out of spirits, and 
 it was a relief to her to escape from the questionings 
 of that too inquisitive friend.
 
 126 MISS SHAFTO. 
 
 CHAPTER XL 
 AT lord's. 
 
 As a matter of theory, everybody admits that it is 
 an absurd and foohsh thing to fall in love with a pretty 
 face; yet — so far, at least, as the male sex is concerned 
 • — it is not very usual to fall in love \vith anything else; 
 and perhaps this reflection may have consoled Lord 
 Walter when he found that he was beyond all question 
 in love with Madge Wilton. He stood in need of some 
 consolation, because he knew perfectly well that the 
 course of true love could not by any possibility be 
 made to run smooth in this case. Strictly speaking, he 
 could not afford to marry. Prospects of a kind he had; 
 but they were of a very indefinite kind, and he had to 
 contend against a rival with a formidable purse, not to 
 speak of a lady who might be more resolute than she 
 looked, and who quite certainly would not be desirous 
 of becoming his mother-in-law. Moreover, he knew no- 
 thing in the world about Madge, except that she was 
 pretty and charming and that he loved her. 
 
 Being thus in much perplexity of mind, and the 
 opportunity presenting itself, he sought counsel of 
 Norma Shafto, with the result which has been men- 
 tioned. The unspoken contract into which they had 
 entered did not, howevei*, bear any immediate fruit, 
 and was thus a source of disappointment to one of
 
 AT LORDS. 127 
 
 them, who had thought that special facihties would per- 
 haps be granted to him for holding private converse 
 with the object of his adoration. Norma was not dis- 
 posed to befriend him to that extent — at any rate, she 
 was not disposed to do so as yet; for it remained to 
 be seen whether Madge was as serious as he was. So 
 he had to make the best of chance meetings, and these 
 were few and unsatisfactory. On such occasions as he 
 did encounter Miss Wilton she was closely attended by 
 the inevitable Shearman, and although she seemed 
 pleased to see him, she was evidently not quite at her 
 ease and would not consent to give him anything like 
 the number of dances that he asked for. 
 
 "I suspect that you really prefer your dancing bear 
 to any other partner," he was provoked into exclaiming 
 once. "I am here on purpose to deliver you from him; 
 but I don't believe you want to be delivered." 
 
 "You wouldn't say that if you had ever had to 
 hobble through a waltz with him," she returned, sigh- 
 ing deeply. 
 
 "Then why do you hobble through such a number 
 of waltzes with him?" 
 
 "Because — because — well, because I should be 
 scolded if I didn't. Some people can bear being 
 scolded; I can't. There is mamma making signals to 
 me; please take me back to her." She added in a 
 hurried undertone, "My sister Mrs. Lacy is going to 
 give a fancy ball at the end of next month. She says 
 she doesn't know you; but she will send you an invita- 
 tion, and I have implored her to leave out Sir Chris- 
 topher." 
 
 This was all very well; but the end of next month
 
 128 MISS SHAFTO. 
 
 was a long time off, and there was no saying what 
 might not happen in the interim. The next time that 
 Lord Walter met Norma Shafto he used less ambiguous 
 language than he had done on Baron Lammergeier's 
 platform, and asked plainly that he might be given 
 some opportunity of talking to Miss Wilton when neither 
 her mother nor Sir Christopher should be present to 
 mar the harmony of the proceedings. 
 
 Norma hesitated for a few seconds before making 
 any response to this request. At length she said, "I 
 don't think I ought to ask you to come here some after- 
 noon and meet her. Of course I could do it easily 
 enough; but it seems a little underhand somehow, and 
 I should not like Mrs. Wilton to say that I had played 
 her false. Perhaps I might help you a little Avith 
 Madge, that is all. As for meeting her and talking to 
 her, I am afraid you must fight that part of the battle 
 for yourself." 
 
 Lord Walter said, "Thank you; it is very kind of 
 you;" but looked despondent, neverthless. He may 
 have thought that a really useful ally would have taken 
 the part which was assigned to him, and would have 
 left him that which seemed to belong more properly to 
 a suitor. However, he refrained from giving utterance 
 to his thoughts (and indeed had no occasion to do so, 
 since they were obvious enough), and presently, by 
 way of comforting him. Norma remarked — 
 
 "We are going to take Madge to the University 
 cricket-match on Saturday. You will be there, per- 
 haps?" 
 
 "Of course I shall," he replied, brightening up.
 
 AT lord's. 129 
 
 "Mrs. Wilton will not, because she has an appoint- 
 ment with the dentist. I can't answer for Sir Chris- 
 topher." 
 
 "I wish he had an appointment with the dentist for 
 to-day, and I wish I were the dentist!" exclaimed Lord 
 Walter. 
 
 "But if you drew every tooth in his head, I am 
 afraid you would not make him a bit less eligible. And 
 you need not thirst for his blood. I dare say you will 
 hurt him more than any dentist could before you have 
 done with him." 
 
 There could be no doubt at all but that Lord 
 Walter would do so if he could, and it would have 
 been preposterous to expect him to feel any pity for a 
 competitor who was so much more favourably handi- 
 capped than he was. But when, on the ensuing Satur- 
 day, he joined the throng at Lord's and made his way 
 up to the carriage in which Norma and Madge and Mr. 
 Shafto were seated, he was rejoiced to find that the foe 
 was absent. One may be resolved to treat any man's 
 jealousy with indifference; but it is for the comfort of 
 all concerned to avoid making him jealous, if that can 
 be managed. 
 
 Madge was in one of the moods which he had dis- 
 covered to be intermittent and which he had begun to 
 fear were rare. She held out her hand at once to him, 
 saying, " Oh, I'm so glad you have come ! I was wonder- 
 ing whether by any chance you would be here." Then 
 she bent over the side of the carriage and whispered, 
 "The cat is away and the mice may play for once." 
 
 "Who is the cat?" he inquired, also in a whisper. 
 "Sir Christopher Shearman?" 
 
 Miss Shafto. I. 9
 
 130 MISS SHAFTO. 
 
 She made a grimace. "Oh no; he's never far 
 away, and he may turn up at any moment. I meant 
 mamma." 
 
 It is not at all right of a girl to describe her mother 
 as a cat. Her mother may be a cat and everybody 
 may know it; but she is hardly the proper person to 
 say so, and young ladies are hereby warned that if they ■ 
 do such things, they will very likely lose the esteem of 
 any man whose esteem is worth having. The young 
 ladies may retort, to be sure, that at certain times and 
 to certain persons they may with impunity say just ex- 
 actly what they please; and in the presence of that in- 
 disputable truth censor morum can but bow his head 
 and hold his tongue. Lord Walter was not as a rule 
 very lenient to offences against good taste; yet he did 
 not seem to object at all to Madge's undutiful explana- 
 tion, but only laughed and asked what game the mice 
 were to play at. 
 
 "Wouldn't you like to take a turn round the 
 ground?" he suggested imploringly. "You can't see 
 anything of the cricket from where you are." 
 
 Madge glanced at Norma, who was looking the other 
 way, and at Mr. Shafto, who was busily engaged in con- 
 versation with a friend on the opposite side of the car- 
 riage. Then she nodded. "Open the door," said she; 
 "I'll come." 
 
 Lord Walter was helping her to alight when he re- 
 ceived a sudden slap on the back, and, turning round, 
 was not altogether overwhelmed with delight at finding 
 himself face to face with his brother. Lord Loddondale 
 was independent enough, or aristocratic enough, to con- 
 sult his own inclinations in the matter of costume, and
 
 AT LORDS. 131 
 
 did not always think it necessary, when in London, to 
 adopt the style of attire which is held to be more or 
 less compulsory by humbler folk. On the present occa- 
 sion he wore a pot hat and a light-coloured coat, while 
 his nether man was clad in cords and Newmarket boots. 
 It was his opinion that a man who rides in trousers is 
 a very uncomfortable man, and as he had ridden to 
 Lord's and meant to ride away again, he had naturally 
 arrayed himself with a view to comfort. 
 
 "Want to back the old shop, Walter?" he asked. 
 "I should be glad to see our side win; but business is 
 business, and I'm ready to lay a shade of odds on 
 Cambridge." 
 
 Lord Walter did not want to bet and did not at 
 all want to be detained at that particular moment; but 
 what are you to do when a man hooks you by the arm 
 and begins discussing bowling and fielding as though 
 nobody else had any claim upon your attention? What 
 Lord Walter did may not have been justifiable, but was 
 at least effectual. Seeing that Norma had turned her 
 head and was looking at him, he promptly took a step 
 towards the carriage and said, "Miss Shafto, may I 
 introduce my brother Loddondale? I think you used to 
 know one another in old days." 
 
 Then, while Lord Loddondale was combining a bow 
 to the lady with a ferocious side-glance at the intro- 
 ducer, he walked away Avith Madge Wilton as fast as 
 he could. 
 
 Lord Loddonable passed for a woman-hater. He 
 was, at all events, a hater of the society of ladies, never 
 knowing what to say to them unless they chanced to 
 have sporting tastes, and being possessed with a not
 
 132 MISS SHAFTO. 
 
 wholly erroneous idea that, if unmarried, they would at 
 once begin doing all they possibly could to make him 
 marry them. But in a surprisingly short space of time 
 he discovered that Norma was not as other girls are 
 and that he had nothing at all to fear from her. 
 
 She made some allusion to the far-away time " when 
 we were all children," and then, with that happy in- 
 stinct which she had of hitting upon the right topic of 
 conversation, remarked, "I think you have both turned 
 out exactly as one might have expected; you have taken 
 up racing and your brother has taken up art. You 
 breed your own horses, don't you?" 
 
 "I am beginning to do so," said Lord Loddondale. 
 "Until lately I haven't had money enough to attempt it; 
 but of course that's what every racing man would prefer 
 to do if he could." 
 
 "So I should think; and if I were a racing man I 
 should certainly never bet." 
 
 At this Lord Loddondale pursed up his lips and 
 shook his head. "You'd have to be a Rothschild then," 
 he declared. "There are owners who don't bet; but 
 they're men who can afford to face two or three bad 
 years in succession. I'm not one of those lucky beggars, 
 so I have to make a business of it, don't you see." 
 
 "But then it ceases to be a sport, doesn't it?" 
 
 "I don't see why. There's a lot of humbug talked 
 about betting. Miss Shafto. Some people say it's wrong, 
 and then there are others, like you, who say sport 
 oughtn't to be a trade. Now that's what I call humbug, 
 you know. Look at Walter and his graven images. He 
 sells 'em — at least, he would if he could — but you call 
 him an artist, all the same. And authors sell their
 
 AT LORDS. 133 
 
 books, and bishops are handsomely paid for — for doing 
 whatever it is that bishops have to do. Why isn't the 
 poor racing man to be allowed to turn an honest penny? 
 If his accounts come out square at the end of the year 
 it's about all they do, I can tell you!" 
 
 Well, the subject was not one upon which Norma 
 could speak with any great authority, and perhaps she 
 did not argue her case very forcibly or make all the 
 points that she might have made. But at the end of a 
 quarter of an hour she had succeeded in earning the 
 esteem and admiration of her interlocutor, and she had 
 also succeeded in getting him to talk about his brother, 
 of whom he spoke very kindly and with perfect frankness. 
 
 "Walter's badly off," he said, "and it's my fault 
 that he is. I've offered to make him an allowance; but 
 he's proud and won't have it. I shall say no more 
 about it just at present. He's sure to marry some day, 
 and then I dare say he'll listen to reason and let me 
 do what I can for him. Walter is just the sort of fellow 
 who's bound to marry before long, don't you think so? 
 Good-looking and what women call interesting, you 
 know, and all that. Romantic too; though he wouldn't 
 like to be called so." 
 
 There seemed to be some good in this rather un- 
 polished inheritor of an ancient title. People called 
 him disreputable; but perhaps that was only because 
 he looked like a groom and didn't go out into society. 
 Norma made no reply to his question; but she was 
 glad to hear that, in the event of Lord Walter's marry- 
 ing a dowerless damsel, the head of the family would 
 be prepared to do what is just and customary on such 
 occasions.
 
 134 ^"SS SHAFTO. 
 
 Meanwhile, the subject of her soHcitude was not 
 getting on quite as well as might have been anticipated 
 with his dowerless damsel. He had not, indeed, walked 
 a hundred yards by Miss Wilton's side when Sir Chris- 
 topher Shearman appeared; and Sir Christopher, as 
 soon as he descried the couple, looked as black as 
 thunder. This did not disturb Lord Walter in the 
 least, and he had not imagined that it would disturb 
 his neighbour; yet — so impossible is it to account for 
 the whims of women or to calculate upon their con- 
 sistency — she seemed a good deal put out when Sir 
 Christopher said, "Well, I shall be off. Two's com- 
 pany, three's none, and I don't particularly care about 
 watching second-rate cricket." 
 
 She lowered her parasol a little, and under cover 
 of that shield whispered to Sir Christopher (for Lord 
 Walter heard her distinctly), "How stupid you are!" 
 
 Then the parasol was raised again, and lo and be- 
 hold! the countenance of Sir Christopher was shining 
 like the sun when he emerges from behind a cloud; 
 and so the trio sauntered on together, Madge walking 
 in the middle, with an admirer on either side of her. 
 
 Two are company and three are none. That dis- 
 covery was made long before the birth of Sir Chris- 
 topher Shearman; but when three people are together 
 it may sometimes be doubtful which of them, if he has 
 any sense of self-respect, ought to retire. Lord Walter 
 was soon relieved from any uncertainty as regarded 
 himself. Madge did not seem to hear him when he 
 spoke to her; she laughed inordinately at some feeble 
 witticism in which Sir Christopher was pleased to in- 
 dulge at the expense of the batsmen; she even went
 
 AT lord's. 135 
 
 the length of wondering whether it would not be pos- 
 sible to get seats in the Pavilion. Now Sir Christopher 
 was a member of the Marylebone Club and Lord Walter 
 was not. The latter therefore caught sight of a friend, 
 bowed, and %vithdrew. 
 
 A smile was upon his lips, but wrath w^as in his 
 heart, and if he had been a sensible man he would 
 then and there have bidden a final adieu to Miss Madge 
 Wilton. Unluckily, he was not a sensible man, because 
 he was in love, and he was not the less in love Avith 
 this capricious girl by reason of his being so justly in- 
 dignant against her. He wandered away, and, after a 
 time, encountered his brother and Miss Shafto, to whom 
 he mentioned that he was going home. The look of 
 wonder and pity which he detected in Norma's eyes 
 did not perhaps put him in any better humour. 
 
 "What's the matter with Waher?" Lord Loddon- 
 dale inquired innocently of his companion. "Looks as 
 if he wanted to knock somebody down, doesn't he? 
 He can't have been losing his money either, because 
 the match is going to end in a draw, as anybody can 
 see." 
 
 The match did, in truth, terminate shortly after- 
 wards as Lord Loddondale had predicted that it would, 
 and perhaps it was not the only game which had been 
 played that day with an undecisive result. But Norma, 
 as she drove homewards with Madge (Mr. Shafto hav- 
 ing departed for his club), resolved that she would at 
 least find out what object certain players had in view. 
 So she said, without any circumlocution — 
 
 "I wish I could feel sure of you, Madge! Some-
 
 136 MISS SHAFTO. 
 
 times it seems to me as if you really wished to marry 
 Sir Christopher, though you say you don't." 
 
 "You may feel perfectly sure," answered Madge, 
 who by this time was looking tired and depressed, 
 "that that is quite the last thing in the world that I 
 should Avish to do." 
 
 "\\Tiy do you encourage him then? And why do 
 you encourage — others? I don't think it is quite fair, 
 if you mean nothing by it." 
 
 At this Madge began to laugh and showed signs of 
 recovering her lost spirits. "Have others been com- 
 plaining?" she asked. "Others mustn't be so exacting; 
 others mustn't imagine that they are going to have 
 everything all their own way. An occasional mild re- 
 buff would do others no sort of harm, I suspect." 
 
 "I don't agree with you," said Norma. "I don't 
 see the use of behaving in that way, and — and if I 
 were a man, I should be disgusted by it." 
 
 "But, my dear old Norma, you are not a man, 
 though you are rather like one in some ways. I can 
 tell you what disgusts a man more than anything else; 
 it is getting what he wants without the shghtest dif- 
 ficulty." 
 
 "Well — but is Lord Walter to get what he wants?" 
 
 "Oh, Norma, how you jump to conclusions! A\Tiat 
 does Lord Walter want? I'm sure / don't know; and 
 it is not at all certain that he himself does." 
 
 After this there was a pause. Then Norma said, 
 "I suppose you mean that you are only flirting with 
 him. I am glad you have told me, because now I can 
 warn him of what he has to expect. And I will." 
 
 To this menace no immediate rejoinder was vouch-
 
 AT LORDS. 137 
 
 safed; but presently there arose a little sniffing noise, 
 and Madge's handkerchief was hastily pulled out of 
 her pocket. "Not very kind," were the only intel- 
 ligible words which reached Norma's ears out of a con- 
 fused and choking murmur. Norma Shafto would have 
 possessed a remarkably clear head if she had not also 
 been gifted, or afflicted, with a remarkably soft heart. 
 She could not bear to see poor little Madge crying; so, 
 instead of taking no notice, as she ought to have done, 
 she began to apologize and accuse herself of cruelty. 
 
 Cruel Madge agreed that she most certainly was, 
 "It is all very well for you; you are your own mistress 
 and can do as you please. You don't know what I 
 have to submit to at home and how I should have been 
 scolded if Sir Christopher had gone off in a huff. And 
 I am not a flirt, whatever you may say. The only thing 
 is that I daren't always do what I should like to do." 
 
 Thus Dover Street was reached without any definite 
 announcement having been made as to Lord Walter's 
 chance of success, although before then Norma had 
 been induced to withdraw her threat of cautioning him 
 against one who would not willingly cause unhappiness 
 to anybody.
 
 138 MISS SHAFTO. 
 
 CHAPTER XII. 
 
 MADGE MAKES AMENDS. 
 
 The next day being Sunday, Lord Walter ought to 
 have gone to church in the morning, and this he would 
 have done (for it was his custom to go to church once 
 a week) if he had not felt his mental condition to be 
 such that he could not hope for any real benefit either 
 from prayers or sermon. "Unless you can manage to 
 keep your thoughts from wandering," he had been told 
 authoritatively from the pulpit not long before, "you 
 had far better remain at home." Therefore he remained 
 at home and smoked a pipe and allowed his thoughts 
 to wander. His thoughts were not of a very exhilarat- 
 ing nature; but such as they were, he would have pre- 
 ferred being left alone with them to being interrupted 
 by a visit from his brother. 
 
 "I didn't know what the deuce to do with myself," 
 Lord Loddondale announced; "so I strayed out here 
 upon the chance of finding you in. How I hate Sun- 
 day!" 
 
 "I should have thought it was much the same as 
 other days to you," remarked Lord Walter. 
 
 "You would, would you? Well, it ain't. There's 
 no racing on Sunday and no whist and no billiards. 
 Gay young dogs like you swagger about in the Park 
 and then go and call upon their friends and then dine
 
 MADGE MAKES AMENDS. I39 
 
 out; but I'm not exactly what you could call a lady- 
 killer; so that by the time I've read the Observer and 
 the Field and the Sporting Times I'm about ready to 
 go and hang myself." 
 
 "You should cultivate the society of ladies," said 
 Lord Walter; "it would be a change and a relaxation 
 for you to mix with them once a week, and you seem 
 to hit it off with some of them tolerably well when you 
 are driven to it. I noticed that you and Miss Shafto 
 got on capitally yesterday afternoon." 
 
 Lord Loddondale had not removed his hat, which 
 was cocked slightly over one eye. He had seated him- 
 self in his favourite attitude, astride upon a chair, with 
 his arms folded upon the back of it. In reply to his 
 brother's observation he nodded emphatically. "We 
 did indeed," said he. "Miss Shafto is a girl in a thou- 
 sand. No humbug about her, no infernal airs, no 
 nasty little dodges of getting you to say more than you 
 mean, don't you know? Upon my word, if I were a 
 
 marrying man However, I'm not a maiTying 
 
 man." 
 
 "Non-marrying men usually end by marrying," ob- 
 served Lord Walter, who for some reason or other was 
 not best pleased by his brother's eulogy of a lady the 
 refinement of whose character he must naturally be 
 quite unable to appreciate. "You will marry as a 
 matter of course. Indeed, it's your duty to do so, I 
 suppose." 
 
 "Duty or no duty, I don't mean to do it," answered 
 Lord Loddondale shortly. "If it suits me to remain a 
 bachelor, I don't know who has a right to complain. 
 You least of anybody."
 
 140 MISS SHAFTO. 
 
 "My dear fellow, I'm not complaining; I only ven- 
 ture to predict that you won't remain a bachelor very 
 long." 
 
 "I shouldn't advise you to back your opinion. All 
 the same, Miss Shafto is a nice girl and a good girl — 
 and you're a thundering ass, Walter." 
 
 "Thank you; but why?" 
 
 "Because, instead of making up to her as you might, 
 you're running after a confounded little flirt who can't 
 compare with her even in looks, and who'll see you 
 jolly well hanged before she'll consent to share your 
 humble lot. I'm not acquainted with the young woman 
 and don't want to be; but other fellows are, and I 
 asked a few questions about her last night at the club. 
 She's going to marry that rich beggar Shearman, who 
 has taken Brampton Priory, and she sent you about 
 your business yesterday because he has a beast of a 
 temper and she's afraid of losing him if she puts his 
 back up. Now don't you make any mistake about it: 
 she'll flirt with you as much as you please when it isn't 
 too risky, but if ever she marries you I'll eat my hat. 
 I tell you this, Walter, because you're a good boy, 
 though you set up to be a man of the world, and I 
 don't believe you'd care to console yourself by flirting 
 with Lady Shearman." 
 
 The worst of it was that these counsels really 
 seemed to be based upon a foundation of common 
 sense. It was a little absurd and a little irritating that 
 they should come from such a quarter; still doubtless 
 they were kindly meant, and although a man of the 
 world may not altogether relish being called a good 
 boy, he is not so foolish as to repudiate such a de-
 
 MADGE MAKES AMENDS. I4I 
 
 scrip tion of his character. Lord Walter, therefore, 
 gravely thanked his mentor, mentioned that he was 
 quite aware of the circumstance that Miss Wilton's re- 
 lations intended to bestow her upon Sir Christopher 
 Shearman, and changed the subject to one upon which 
 Lord Loddondale was perhaps better qualified to speak. 
 
 "Old Nell Travers was here a short time ago," he 
 said. "She came to ask for some tips about your 
 horses; but I was obliged to send her empty away. 
 Are you inclined to be generous and give her a hint?" 
 
 Then it was curious to see how Lord Loddondale's 
 countenance changed. Ordinarily he had the appear- 
 ance of a very wide-awake, not to say cunning, young 
 man; but now the corners of his mouth drooped, his 
 lips parted, his brows were raised, and his eyes opened 
 very wide with an expression of bewilderment and con- 
 cern. He looked like some guileless youth to whom a 
 hard question has been put, which he would fain an- 
 swer, but cannot, by reason of his ignorance. "A hint?" 
 he repeated vaguely. "About what?" 
 
 "At the time she seemed to be chiefly anxious to 
 know whether Nugget would win at Stockbridge; but 
 that's over, and Nugget, I beheve, didn't secure a 
 place." 
 
 "Oh no; he wasn't placed. I'm sorry if she put 
 her money upon him. I could have told her that he 
 hadn't a chance; and, as it happens, that is the only 
 thing that I could have told her for certain about any 
 horse of mine." 
 
 "Perhaps she didn't put her money upon him. I 
 dare say she would be glad to hear a few words of 
 wisdom about the Goodwood Stakes and Cup."
 
 142 MISS SHAFTO, 
 
 "Oh, she fancies the Conjuror and Hengist, I sup- 
 pose. Well, they may ^v'in their races, and I hope they 
 Avill; but one can't be too careful in giving advice to a 
 friend." 
 
 "I'll tell her to leave Goodwood alone, then," said 
 Lord Walter, much amused. 
 
 "That will be the safest plan, no doubt. The Con- 
 juror is a very uncertain horse, and although I should 
 have said that Hengist had a pretty good chance of 
 pulling off the Cup, the public evidently thinks other- 
 \vise." 
 
 Lord Loddondale was proceeding to point out that 
 the public, after all, is about as good a judge of any 
 horse's merits as the owner of the animal is likely to 
 be, when a note was brought in to his brother, who, 
 after glancing at it, slipped it into his pocket unopened. 
 How did Lord Walter know that the dashing, straggling 
 hand in which this missive was addressed was that of 
 Madge Wilton? He could not have answered the ques- 
 tion; but he felt no doubt as to the fact, and the con- 
 sequence was that the remainder of Lord Loddondale's 
 harangue was spoken to deaf ears. Perhaps that astute 
 personage took his leave a little more hastily than he 
 might have done if the Goodwood meeting had not 
 been mentioned; yet he paused for a moment on the 
 threshold and then wheeled round. 
 
 "I'm a fool," said he, "and I don't know what 
 business old Nell Travers has to ask impertinent ques- 
 tions; but never mind. Tell her to back Hengist for 
 all she's worth, and you'll do the same yourself if you've 
 any sense. It's the very best certainty I've ever known. 
 Look sharp about it, though, or you won't get a decent
 
 MADGE MAKES AMENDS. I 43 
 
 price. There! I've done it now, and in about forty- 
 eight hours what I've told you will be known all over 
 the place. I don't expect to be thanked; but if you 
 feel that you owe me a turn, you can pay me off by let- 
 ting me know the next time that Miss Shafto comes to 
 examine your clay figures. I should like to meet that 
 girl again." 
 
 "There's no doubt about it then!" ejaculated Lord 
 Walter. "Miss Shafto may be Lady Loddondale as soon 
 as she chooses. Whether she will choose " 
 
 "Don't be an idiot!" interrupted Lord Loddondale 
 rather angrily. "I tell you I'm not going to marry 
 anybody. I should like you to marry Miss Shafto if 
 you would; but I suppose you won't. As far as that 
 goes, you ain't half good enough for her, in my opinion; 
 I don't mind telling you that much." 
 
 His existence was forgotten the moment that he 
 was out of sight. LInder ordinary circumstances Lord 
 Walter would doubtless have been much interested in 
 speculating upon the causes of his brother's unpre- 
 cedented behaviour; but, as it was, the world con- 
 tained but one person who interested him in the least. 
 Perhaps she was a flirt; perhaps he had been perfectly 
 right in resolving — as he had done a score of times 
 during the previous night and the present morning — 
 that he would not be made a fool of by her. But — 
 he loved her; and when once you have made such an 
 admission as that, to declare that you will not be made 
 a fool of is only an unmeaning phrase. Lord Walter 
 perused the note which had been left for him, and 
 as he did so, his countenance became illumined with 
 smiles.
 
 144 ^"SS SHAFTO. 
 
 "Dear Lord Walter" {Miss Wilton wrote) — 
 "I don't know whether you ever go to church on 
 Sunday afternoon; but if you don't, you might break 
 through your rule for once and come to St. Andrew's, 
 Wells Street, this afternoon at four o'clock. You will 
 hear some good music, and there's no sermon. My 
 reason for asking this favour of you is that I want most 
 particularly to consult you about my costume for that 
 ball which I told you that my sister Constance is going 
 to give. I am sure you could give me an idea if you 
 would. Anyhow, I shall be at St. Andrew's with my 
 cousin Mrs. Langley, and I shall look out for you after 
 the service. 
 
 "Sincerely yours, 
 
 "Madge Wilton. 
 
 "Why did you go away in such a hurry yesterday? 
 I couldn't think what had become of you." 
 
 It is needless to state that Lord Walter was in the 
 appointed place at the appointed hour; and when the 
 congregation had dispersed, he was rewarded by a 
 squeeze of the hand and a grateful glance from Madge's 
 soft eyes. 
 
 "This is really good of you!" she exclaimed. "I 
 know I'm a horrid nuisance; but when one is in despair 
 one doesn't care how great a nuisance one may be." 
 
 Then she introduced him to Mrs. Langley, a rather 
 pretty little woman, with a complexion about which un- 
 kind people said unkind things; and Mrs. Langley, 
 smiling amiably, hoped he would come and have a cup 
 of tea in Portland Place.
 
 MADGE MAKES AMENDS. I45 
 
 "Poor Madge," she explained, "can't think of any 
 dress that will be at once suitable and original, and she 
 scorns all my humble suggestions. Perhaps she will 
 be more willing to trust your taste than mine." 
 
 So Lord Walter, nothing loth, was conducted to the 
 commodious mansion in which this lady dwelt, and 
 after a quarter of an hour of tea and gossip, Mrs. 
 Langley, discovering that she had some letters to write, 
 withdrew to the other end of the drawing-room, which 
 was a large one. 
 
 "Now," said Madge, drawing her chair closer to 
 that of her adviser, "let us proceed to business. Have 
 you thought of anything yet, or shall I go through a 
 list of the dresses that nothing would induce me to 
 wear?" 
 
 "I have thought of something," answered Lord 
 Walter. "I was thinking about it in church, and I 
 have made up my mind that you must wear an Albanian 
 costume." 
 
 Madge drew down the corners of her mouth. 
 "Couldn't you hit upon anything less hackneyed than 
 that?" she asked. 
 
 "I don't mean a peasant costume. You are to be 
 an Albanian princess; and your costume cannot possibly 
 be hackneyed, because I propose to invent it. There 
 are not, and to the best of my belief there never were, 
 any princesses in Albania, and when one is dealing 
 with imaginary persons one is entitled to say how they 
 shall be attired. Perhaps the best plan will be for me 
 to make a rough sketch of my notion." 
 
 He took pencil and paper, and in a few minutes 
 
 Afiss Shafto. /. lO
 
 146 MISS SHAFTO. 
 
 handed Madge a hastily executed drawing, which she 
 surveyed critically. 
 
 "Yes," she said, "it doesn't look bad. But what 
 about the materials?" 
 
 "Well, the skirt and bodice must be of silver 
 brocade. The bodice, as you see, is cut square, and 
 those open, hanging sleeves, as well as the train, ought, 
 I think, to be of white velvet, though I will admit silk 
 if you insist upon it. The embroidery, of course, must 
 be silver. The veil should be gauze. It falls from a 
 diamond tiara over the back of the head, is brought 
 loosely round under the chin and flung over the right 
 shoulder, where it might be secured by a diamond 
 brooch. White and silver would be trying to a good 
 many people, but not to you, if I may be permitted to 
 say so. The train, I admit, is an objection; but you 
 might have it made with a loop, through which you 
 could pass your arm when you were dancing." 
 
 "Yes; that might be done," answered Madge. She 
 added quietly, "There is just one more trifling objec- 
 tion. I haven't got any diamonds, and this costume 
 would cost at least five or six times as much as I could 
 possibly afford to spend upon it." 
 
 "No, indeed; that is the very thing that I was think- 
 ing about when I designed it, and you will see that it 
 can be made up quite cheaply. I happen to possess 
 the brocade and embroidery among my artistic pro- 
 perties, and if you will make use of them for the even- 
 ing, I shall be greatly honoured; so that all you will 
 have to buy will be the material for the train and 
 sleeves and the gauze for the veil. That, I should 
 think, ought not to come more expensive than any
 
 MADGE MAKES AMENDS. I 47 
 
 Other complete dress that you could wear. As for the 
 diamonds, I should think you might borrow them from 
 somebody. From Lady Huddersfield, for instance." 
 
 Madge stroked her chin reflectively, for the matter 
 was one which required to be looked at from several 
 points of view. "I don't know what mamma will say 
 to my wearing your brocade and embroidery," was the 
 comment which she finally made upon Lord Walter's 
 proposition. 
 
 "I don't see why Mrs. Wilton should object; they 
 won't have a ticket with my name upon it attached to 
 them," he returned, with a readiness which did credit 
 to his insight into character. 
 
 Madge smiled, but still hesitated. She knew that 
 neither the dress nor the jewels were altogether suitable 
 to a girl of her age; but, on the other hand, she had 
 that overwhelming desire to wear diamonds from which 
 so few of her sex are exempt, and she thought it very 
 likely that Lady Huddersfield could be prevailed upon 
 to lend her the tiara. She ended by saying, "It's very 
 kind of you;" which Lord Walter rightly interpreted as 
 signifying assent. 
 
 Presently she asked, "And what are you yourself 
 going to wear?" 
 
 "Shall I be there?" 
 
 "Of course you will. Didn't you promise me that 
 you would? The invitations will be out in a day or 
 two." 
 
 Now, although it may be true that, as Lord Walter 
 had somewhat hastily declared, there have never been 
 any princesses in Albania, it is well known that the 
 country has always been prolific in chieftains; and the
 
 148 MISS SHAFTO, 
 
 costume worn by these, which has now become the 
 national costume of Greece, is also well known and is 
 extremely becoming. He took up his pencil again and 
 drew a figure of a warrior, clad in velvet jacket, hang- 
 ing sleeves, fiistanella, tasselled fez, and waist-belt con- 
 taining the usual armoury of pistols, daggers, and 
 yataghans. "How would that do?" he asked. 
 
 Madge, after examining the sketch, remarked 
 demurely, "I don't quite know what mamma would say 
 to that either." 
 
 "But need I consult her? I have the highest pos- 
 sible respect for Mrs. Wilton; still she is not my 
 mamma, you know." 
 
 Madge made no rejoinder. She placed the two 
 sketches side by side, contemplating them pensively, 
 and, as he thought, a little sadly. 
 
 "Would you object?" he ventured to inquire at 
 length. 
 
 Then she raised her eyes to his. "Oh no," she 
 answered softly; "/ shouldn't object." 
 
 At this juncture Mrs. Langley, having presumably 
 finished her letters, joined the conspirators and asked 
 whether they were getting any nearer to a decision. 
 On the outline of Madge's proposed costume being sub- 
 mitted and explained to her, she protested loudly. 
 
 "Much too old and much too magnificent," she 
 declared. "Everybody in the room will want to know 
 where you got your materials from." 
 
 "But everybody needn't be told," returned Madge 
 and Lord Walter in the same breath. 
 
 This simultaneous rejoinder seemed to tickle Mrs. 
 Langley, who agreed drily that that was very true.
 
 MADGE MAKES AMENDS. I 49 
 
 "The individual in the petticoat," she added, "is, I 
 presume. Lord Walter. Well, I beg you both to under- 
 stand distinctly that I wash my hands of this business. 
 I foresee that it will be disapproved of in more quarters 
 than one, and if you will be advised by me, you will 
 think better of it. But the chances are that you won't 
 be advised by me." 
 
 It cannot be said that this advice was tendered in 
 such a fashion as to render its acceptance probable; 
 and the truth is that Mrs. Langley took a mischievous 
 delight in provoking her aunt, from whom she had had 
 to submit to a good deal of provocation in days gone 
 by. Also she knew, or thought she knew, perfectly 
 well that the mere fact of having attended a fancy ball 
 as pejidant to an Albanian chieftain would never pre- 
 vent Madge Wilton from marrying an English iron- 
 master. 
 
 But Lord Walter was of a different opinion. He 
 went home in jubilant spirits, attaching a significance 
 to Madge's consent to wear his property which he would 
 have been the first to deride had his case been that of 
 another man, and had he been looking on at it. To 
 be acquainted with the peculiarities and frailties of 
 human nature is all very well, and some of us may, 
 by observation, have attained to a certain proficiency 
 in that science; but when we talk about human nature, 
 we don't generally mean either our own nature or that 
 of the persons whom we love.
 
 I -,0 mSS SHAFTO. 
 
 CHAPTER XIII. 
 MRS. LACY'S ball. 
 
 Why Mrs. Wilton permitted her daughter to make 
 use of Lord Waher Sinclair's silver brocade it would 
 be difficult to say. It was a compromising sort of thing 
 to allow one's daughter to do, and a vigilant mother 
 might have been expected to put a prompt veto upon 
 any such proceeding. Yet Mrs. Wilton, who had 
 had great experience and had discharged her maternal 
 functions with singular success, must be assumed to 
 have known what she was about. Perhaps she may 
 have reasoned, as others had done, that the ownership 
 of the brocade need not necessarily be divulged; per- 
 haps she may have been influenced by the good-natured 
 Lady Huddersfield, who had been coaxed into lending 
 the requisite jewels, or by a not unnatural desire to 
 spare her own pocket; it is even possible that she may 
 have wished to rouse the jealousy of Sir Christopher, 
 who continued to be attentive, but who had not yet 
 committed himself, though the season was drawing to- 
 wards a close. In any case, she did assent in her 
 customary querulous fashion, declaring that the dress 
 was an absurd one, and that it was disagreeable to lay 
 one's self under such obligations to a comparative 
 stranger, but that of course Madge would take her 
 own way.
 
 MRS. LACY's ball. I5I 
 
 "Lord Walter Sinclair is making himself quite ridi- 
 culous about Madge," she complained to Norma. "He 
 calls every day upon the pretext of altering something 
 in the costume that he has designed for her. Of course 
 no result can possibly come of this, and I don't think 
 Madge cares a farthing for him; still it is rather un- 
 pleasant while it lasts. I wish you had not introduced 
 him to us. Norma!" 
 
 "But supposing she did care for him?" Norma made 
 bold to suggest. "There is nothing against him, except 
 that he isn't rich, is there? And he is clever and hand- 
 some and " 
 
 "But, my dear, she doesn't," interrupted Mrs. Wilton, 
 cutting short the list of Lord Walter's charms. "I can't 
 tell what would happen if she did, and I don't see the 
 use of talking about it. Surely we all have real troubles 
 enough, without discussing imaginary ones!" 
 
 Norma did not insist further. It was not Mrs. Wilton's 
 opposition — which might be looked upon as certain — 
 that she had dreaded on Lord Walter's account since 
 he had taken her into his confidence, and the time had 
 not yet come when her intervention could be of any 
 service to him or Madge. That before they were much 
 older they would both stand in need of any support 
 that they could get, she no longer doubted. She 
 thought she saw plainly enough what Mrs. Wilton could 
 not or would not see — that Madge had been overtaken 
 by the Nemesis which is said to lie in wait for all flirts, 
 and that, having digged a pit for another, she had fallen 
 into the midst of it herself. This was perhaps a good 
 thing; but it would have been a better thing, Norma 
 thought, if her friend had had the courage and the
 
 152 MISS SHAFTO. 
 
 honesty to disabuse Sir Christopher of all illusions. This 
 Madge certainly had not done; and although, as Mrs. 
 Wilton said, Lord Walter found excuses for daily visits 
 to Dover Street, matters were so arranged, or so fell 
 out, that the rivals very seldom met. Therefore it was 
 evident that there was stormy weather ahead. 
 
 Meanwhile, Walter Sinclair lived happily in a fool's 
 paradise. He had received no verbal encouragement; 
 on the contrary, many dark hints had been conveyed to 
 him, that the girl whom he loved was not free to follow 
 the dictates of her own heart; but these warnings did 
 not disturb him, because he simply did not believe in 
 them. Moreover, the signs which Norma had observed 
 had not been lost upon him. Like all lovers, he saw 
 but one great difficulty to be surmounted, and, having 
 now good hope of being victorious in that all-important 
 particular, it was not wonderful that he should have 
 been inclined to make light of subsidiary obstacles. 
 Surely, if Madge cared for him, he would have strength 
 enough and determination enough to rescue her from a 
 thousand Mrs. Wiltons or Sir Christopher Shearmans! 
 It is a natural delusion and one to which we are all 
 prone. 
 
 Chancing upon Miss Travers at a dinner-party one 
 evening, he duly delivered to her his brother's message, 
 of which she took note. 
 
 "I am glad," she observed, "to find that you are 
 able to remember the needs of your friends in your 
 present semi-imbecile condition." 
 
 And on being asked what she meant by that, she 
 replied, "My dear Walter, I wasn't born yesterday. 
 When I saw that very badly executed head in your
 
 MRS. lacy's ball. 153 
 
 studio, I perceived that you were upon the verge of 
 making a fool of yourself, and I have since heard that 
 you have gone beyond the verge. One consolation is 
 that, if matrimony is what you are contemplating, you 
 wU soon be shaken back into your senses again; and 
 very soon after that you will be thanking your stars 
 for what I suppose you will consider a misfortune at 
 first." 
 
 Lord Walter laughed, not caring to admit or deny 
 anything. That, of course, was just the sort of view 
 which we take of our neighbours' affairs and which our 
 neighbours take of ours. What a fallacy to imagine 
 that lookers-on see most of the game! Very generally, 
 what they see is not the game at all, but only some- 
 thing which superficially resembles it. 
 
 Hitherto the attention of lookers-on had been but 
 little attracted to the game which was being played by 
 Lord Walter Sinclair and Miss Wilton, because they had 
 very seldom been seen in public together; but what 
 were lookers-on to think when the former made his ap- 
 pearance at JVIrs. Lacy's ball in a magnificent costume 
 corresponding in every particular to that which rendered 
 the latter so conspicuous? This was a little coup de 
 theatre for which Mrs. Wilton had not been prepared. 
 She had been told, indeed, that Lord Walter was to 
 represent a Greek chieftain; but, having only a faint 
 idea of the whereabouts of Albania, she had not men- 
 tally connected it with Greece. Now, however, that 
 she saw the white and silver, the open, hanging sleeves 
 and the embroidery worn by that unscrupulous young 
 man, she realized the full extent of the liberty which 
 he had permitted himself, and bit her lip in vexation.
 
 154 ^"SS SHAFTO. 
 
 To borrow his brocade was one thing, but to coun- 
 tenance his assumption of the character of Jack to her 
 daughter's Jill was quite another. 
 
 Little enough did he reck of an outraged mother's 
 feelings. He did not even notice the marked coldness 
 with which she greeted him, but passed on in search 
 of Madge, whom he presently found, and to whom he 
 said, "You see I have turned up in time for our first 
 dance." 
 
 She smiled and nodded, relinquishing the arm of 
 the Spanish muleteer with whom she had been dancing, 
 and taking Lord Walter's. So this striking couple moved 
 down the ball-room together; and then, no doubt, it 
 was that remarks began to be interchanged amongst the 
 bystanders — remarks more or less ironical, as indeed 
 they could hardly fail to be under the circumstances. 
 Those who knew Miss Wilton also knew her mother 
 and sisters and had difficulty in believing that the im- 
 poverished younger brother of a marquis could be the 
 match selected for her by such far-sighted persons. 
 Those who knew Lord Walter considered him cool- 
 headed and worldly-wise, and were naturally amused to 
 see him thus parading himself with a girl who, as they 
 were credibly informed, had no fortune at all. 
 
 Madge, perhaps, was aware that she was being 
 talked about, for she seemed a little uneasy, and said 
 at length, "Would you very much mind sitting out this 
 dance? My dress is lovely, and it is a great success, 
 thanks to you; but it is a little bit heavy for danc- 
 ing in." 
 
 Lord Walter was quite ready to do anything that 
 she pleased; so long as he had her beside him he was
 
 MRS. lacy's ball. 155 
 
 satisfied. He took her out on to the broad balcony, 
 which had been covered in with striped canvas, and 
 was partially lighted by hanging Chinese lanterns. There 
 they found an unoccupied divan, and, possessing them- 
 selves of it, fell into a kind of talk which had latterly 
 become usual with them. It was, to tell the truth, a 
 kind of talk which would not bear reporting, being, as 
 regards the words actually spoken, trivial and unin- 
 teresting to the last degree; but imder cover of it were 
 exchanged hints, innuendoes and allusions which were 
 doubtless interesting enough to the persons concerned. 
 If either of them found it too indirect to be quite satis- 
 factory, that one was not Madge, who by means of it 
 had discovered all that she could possibly wish to know 
 or that he could desire to tell her. Nevertheless there 
 are certain things which must be stated plainly before 
 any man will consent to understand them, and it now 
 seemed expedient to her to discard ambiguity with 
 reference to one of these. 
 
 "Would you," she asked after a time, "be very 
 angry if I begged you, as a great favour, to give up 
 the rest of the dances that I promised you for this 
 evening?" 
 
 "I shouldn't be angry," he replied rather blankly; 
 "but I should be grievously disappointed. What have 
 I done?" 
 
 "Oh, nothing; only — don't you think it would be 
 better if we were not too much seen together to-night? 
 I warned you, you know, that mamma wouldn't be 
 pleased at your wearing a dress like mine, and as we 
 passed her just now, I saw that she wasn't. In fact, I 
 am sure that she is very much displeased."
 
 156 MISS SHAFTO. 
 
 "I am sorry for that; but might we not have the 
 audacity to brave her displeasure, for once?" 
 
 "We might; but it wouldn't be very wise, would it? 
 At least, it wouldn't be very wise of me, I mean. To 
 you, I dare say, it wouldn't matter much. In future 
 we shouldn't be at home when you called, that would 
 be all." 
 
 Lord Walter remained silent for a moment or two. 
 It would certainly be unwise to defy Mrs. Wilton, and 
 if she chose to shut her door in his face, there was 
 nothing in the world to prevent her from doing so. 
 Yet he would have to fight her or win her over some 
 day. His musings were interrupted by a little sigh 
 from his neighbour. 
 
 "You see," she said, "it is just what I am always 
 telling you, and I don't know why you laugh when I 
 say it; I can't do what I like. I have been looking 
 forward to this ball for weeks, and now I shan't enjoy 
 it at all. But there's no help for it. We mustn't even 
 sit here much longer, and perhaps I shan't see you 
 again before we leave London. We are to go home in 
 a day or two." 
 
 "You don't mean that!" ejaculated Lord Walter in 
 dismay. Then, after a pause, "In that case, we may as 
 well dance and enjoy ourselves while we can. If you 
 are going to leave London, my calling in Dover Street 
 would be equally useless whether Mrs. Wilton Avas 
 pleased with me or not." 
 
 "Oh, I didn't mean that quite literally. What I 
 meant was that if you offend mamma, she won't let me 
 speak to you again, and — and we have been such friends 
 — I should be sorry "
 
 MRS. LACY's ball. I57 
 
 There was a break in the speaker's voice which 
 betrayed genuine emotion and which had the effect of 
 dismissing all Lord Walter's prudence to the winds. 
 "Madge! " he exclaimed suddenly. 
 
 "Hush!" she whispered; "you must not say that. 
 I think we will go back to the ball-room now, please." 
 
 Nevertheless, she did not move. 
 
 As for Lord Walter, he had gone too far to draw 
 back. "I love you, Madge," he said. "That is no news 
 to you; you have known it for some time past. I think, 
 too, you may have known why I have not ventured to 
 say so before. I am a poor man; but perhaps I shall 
 not always be poor. At any rate, if you could give me 
 just a little bit of hope, I should be encouraged to 
 throw my whole heart into my calling — which is really 
 a lucrative calling for those who succeed at it." 
 
 A little bit of hope is no great boon to ask for, and 
 Madge might have conceded that much without com- 
 mitting herself in any definite fashion. As she parti- 
 cularly dreaded committing herself, concession would 
 doubtless have been her wisest policy; but she was 
 taken by surprise and was agitated, as well as rather 
 frightened. So she answered hurriedly — 
 
 "Please don't say any more; I can't possibly answer 
 you now. But next month we shall be going to Scot- 
 land to stay with the Lacys, and I believe their moor 
 is close to Lord Loddondale's, and what I was thinking 
 was that if your brother were to ask you to stay with 
 him " 
 
 "I will take care that he does," said Lord Walter 
 joyfully, as she paused. "Loddondale is a good-natured 
 fellow in his way, and luckily I'm a pretty fair shot,
 
 150 MISS SHAFTO. 
 
 There will be no difficulty as to that. But what about 
 dates?" 
 
 "Well, I believe we shall go north about the twelfth, 
 and we are sure to stay at least a month with the 
 Lacys. Now take me back to the ball-room." 
 
 He prepared to obey her; he had obtained all that 
 he had hoped for and was more than satisfied. But, 
 as ill luck would have it, at this moment there appeared 
 upon the scene a burly little red-bearded man, habited 
 as Henry VIII., who ejaculated, "Oho!" 
 
 Madge had extracted a half-promise from her sister 
 that Sir Christopher Shearman should not be invited to 
 this ball; yet here Sir Christopher was, and a glance at 
 his flushed face would have sufficed to convince any- 
 body that he was in a very naughty temper. After the 
 above ejaculation, he contorted his features into what 
 he probably intended for a sardonic smile and said, "I 
 suppose, Miss Wilton, I may congratulate you." 
 
 "Upon what?" asked Madge, laughing rather tre- 
 mulously. "Upon my costume?" 
 
 "No, I don't admire your costume. My bad taste, 
 I dare say; but I don't. What I'm told that I ought to 
 congratulate you upon is your engagement to Lord 
 Walter Sinclair. Half a dozen people have been good 
 enough to inform me of it since I arrived. On my 
 own account, I beg to add my congratulations upon the 
 success with which you have kept it dark up to now." 
 
 Even in that dim light Lord Walter could see that 
 Madge's colour faded. She turned her affrighted eyes 
 first upon Sir Christopher, who was looking very fierce, 
 and then upon him. "It isn't true! Please tell him it 
 'isn't true!" she gasped.
 
 MRS. LACY S BALL. 159 
 
 Now Lord Walter was not very much inclined to 
 comply with this request. Sir Christopher had taken a 
 most unwarrantable liberty and deserved no answer. 
 He thought, too, that Sir Christopher had been drinking, 
 which may or may not have been the case. Still, since 
 he had been appealed to, he could scarcely remain 
 silent, so he said very coldly — 
 
 "There seems to be some mistake. Perhaps the 
 resemblance between my dress and Miss Wilton's may 
 be accountable for it." 
 
 "x^nd quite enough to account for it too!" cried 
 Sir Christopher, still angry, though evidently relieved. 
 "How any man can deliberately compromise a lady in 
 that way, unless he wants mistakes to be made, passes 
 my understanding." 
 
 "Your understanding," observed Lord Walter sweetly, 
 "is perhaps not a very capacious one." 
 
 After that, it seemed high time to avert a hand-to- 
 hand conflict. Madge, rising to the level of the occasion, 
 burst out laughing. 
 
 "How ridiculous!" she exclaimed. "I am sure 
 there must be plenty of other men in Greek costumes 
 in tlie room, and people can't imagine that I am engaged 
 to them all. However, I will carefully shun them for 
 the rest of the evening. Sir Christopher will have to 
 be upon his guard too, or he may find himself dancing 
 with one of Henry VIU.'s six wives. Meanwhile, I 
 certainly mustn't show myself any more with you. Lord 
 Walter." 
 
 She held out her hand to him, saying, "Good night 
 and good-bye, if we don't meet again." Then she took 
 Sir Christopher's arm and was led away.
 
 l60 MISS SHAFTO. 
 
 l>ord Walter, though he had no very high opinion 
 of human nature, was neither jealous nor suspicious by- 
 temperament. He saw that Madge was anxious to gain 
 time; but he did not complain of that. She could not 
 marry him without incurring some sacrifice of material 
 comfort, and it was only fair that she should have lei- 
 sure to consider whether that sacrifice was worth mak- 
 ing. That she should wish to keep upon good terms 
 with Sir Christopher was also quite intelligible; for if 
 she fell out with him she would fall out with her 
 mother, which would, of course, be uncomfortable, and 
 was as yet unnecessary. No doubt he would have been 
 less philosophic if he had been less confident; but how 
 could he help being confident? Not to have been re- 
 fused was virtually equivalent to having been accepted; 
 and as he Hngered a while in the ball-room, watching 
 Madge while she danced with the appeased Sir Chris- 
 topher, he freely forgave the impertinence of that de- 
 feated rival. 
 
 Presently he was accosted by a Roman senator with 
 an eyeglass, in whom he recognized Mr. Winstanley- 
 Pettie; and Mr. Pettie said, "Your little friend Miss 
 Wilton is a gorgeous spectacle to-night, isn't she? I 
 wonder where the deuce she got her diamonds from! 
 Bo you suppose Lady Huddersfield lent them to her? 
 Well, she'll have diamonds of her own before long; I 
 hear that fat little chap Shearman is crazy about her. 
 Sorry for you; you'll have to drop her acquaintance, 
 I'm afraid." 
 
 "Shall I?" said Lord Walter. 
 
 "I should rather think you would! — a man of your 
 personal attractions! Besides, I've heard it whispered
 
 MRS. lacy's ball. i6i 
 
 that your appearing here as a couple of Albanians 
 wasn't altogether an accident, and Shearman has heard 
 it too. Never mind, my dear fellow; between ourselves, 
 I don't much envy Miss Wilton's future husband." 
 
 "That is a very fortunate thing for Miss Wilton's 
 future husband." 
 
 "Eh? Well, it's a fortunate thing for me. To fall 
 in love with a flirt," added Mr. Pettie impressively, "is 
 just about the most disastrous calamity that can happen 
 to a man." 
 
 But Lord Walter went home to dream of Madge 
 without any presentiment of approaching disaster. 
 
 Kfi^s Shafto. t. 1 1
 
 I 62 MISS SHAFTO. 
 
 CHAPTER XIV. 
 
 LORD WALTER GOES TO SEEK HIS FORTUNE. 
 
 Mrs. Lacy's ball was the last entertainment of the 
 kind which was favoured by Walter Sinclair's presence 
 that season, nor was any further opportunity of bidding 
 Madge farewell granted to him. His brocade and em- 
 broidery were returned on the following day with a 
 very pretty little note of thanks, in which Madge 
 said — 
 
 "I hope so much I may see you in Scotland. I am 
 rather in despair at having to leave London — at least, 
 I should be if I had time to think about it; but we 
 are so busy packing up and making preparations for a 
 move that I can't indulge my sorrow. I shall have 
 plenty of leisure for regrets during the long, dull weeks 
 that are coming." 
 
 Lord Walter took the hint and made no reply, either 
 verbally or by letter. The long weeks that were com- 
 ing must necessarily be weeks of suspense for him ; but 
 he did not think that they would be dull, because he 
 meant to devote them to a steady prosecution of art. 
 He had no longer, indeed, any great temptation to be 
 idle. Everybody was going away; the season was ex- 
 piring; such luckless legislators as had been unable to 
 find pairs were in no humour for entertaining their 
 acquaintances; and although Miss Travers was kind
 
 LORD WALTER GOES TO SEEK HIS FORTUNE. 1 63 
 
 enough to say that there would be a spare room in the 
 house which she and some friends of hers had taken 
 at Bognor for the Goodwood week, that was an invita- 
 tion which could be declined without any poignant sense 
 of sacrifice. 
 
 However, he thought he ought to go and say good- 
 bye to the Shaftos, who, he presumed, would shortly be 
 flitting like the rest of the world. He called in Upper 
 Belgrave Street rather late one afternoon, and was glad 
 to learn that Miss Shafto was at home. Possibly he 
 may have desired to say something more than good-bye 
 to Miss Shafto, whose alliance had hitherto been of 
 little service to him, and from whom he might ere long 
 have to claim more active support. It was therefore 
 annoying to find that she was not alone. Seated upon 
 a sofa beside her, in a lounging attitude which struck 
 the new-comer as neither respectful nor becoming, was 
 the long-haired young man whom he remembered to 
 have seen at the theatre and who had the impudence 
 to screw up his eyes at him as though he had been an 
 intruder. 
 
 "I don't know whether you know Mr. Morley," Norma 
 said. "Lord Walter Sinclair — Mr. Morley." 
 
 Lord Walter bowed, and Mr. Morley, rising very 
 slowly from his recumbent position, bent his head and 
 heaved a sigh. He was certainly a very ill-bred youth, 
 and one cannot wonder that Lord Walter should have 
 longed to kick him, though, to be sure, he had as good 
 a right as anybody else to be where he was. It was Basil 
 Morley's misfortune that he had never been adequately 
 kicked. In his earlier years his companions had done 
 their best for him in that direction; but it must be
 
 164 MISS SHAFTO. 
 
 assumed that their boots were not thick enough, or that 
 his skin was too thick. He sank back upon the sofa 
 without the faintest idea of having ruffled anybody's 
 susceptibihties. In fact, his behef was that he himself 
 had a grievance. 
 
 "Then, Miss Shafto," said he, in low and tender 
 accents, "this is to be our last meeting in London, I 
 fear." 
 
 "As you are going home to-morrow morning, I am 
 afraid it is," answered Norma. "Please don't forget to 
 give my love to your mother." 
 
 "And when shall we meet again? Will you not 
 make an effort to show yourself in a neighbourhood 
 where you are — I may say it without exaggeration — 
 adored by rich and poor alike?" 
 
 "I can't say for certain what we shall do as yet. 
 Of course I should like very much to pay a flying visit 
 to Brampton, and the Wiltons have asked us to stay 
 with them in the autumn, but everything must depend 
 upon my father's plans." 
 
 "Mr. Shafto's plans must surely be capable of being 
 moulded in accordance with your wishes. I can't con- 
 ceive that any one could live with you and not feel 
 constrained by an overpowering necessity to do what you 
 desired." 
 
 Having paid this handsome tribute to Norma's 
 powers of fascination, Mr. Morley glanced at Lord 
 Walter, sighed again, and got up. "About that little 
 volume of poems," he began. 
 
 "Yes?" said Norma. 
 
 "I was thinking But no matter. Perhaps it 
 
 would be better that you should not see them until they
 
 LORD WALTER GOES TO SEEK HIS FORTUNE. I 65 
 
 are in print. Then I shall make so bold as to crave 
 your acceptance of a copy." 
 
 He held Norma's hand for a minute, gazed eloquently 
 into her eyes, inclined his head once more to the 
 stranger, and so retired, steering his way through the 
 furniture with graceful, deliberate steps. 
 
 "Well," exclaimed Lord Walter, "I must say " 
 
 " Oh no, I don't think you must," interrupted Norma, 
 laughing. "If I don't know all that there is to be said 
 against poor Mr. Morley it isn't the fault of my friends. 
 He is silly and affected, if you hke; but many of those 
 who abuse him are quite as silly as he, though they 
 may not be quite as affected." 
 
 "Meaning me?" 
 
 "No, I don't mean you. No one would be likely 
 to call you silly." 
 
 "Thank you, but I dare say I am silly, all the same. 
 Who knows? One generally has to await results before 
 one can say whether any man's behaviour is silly or 
 wise. What seems clear is that one's behaviour isn't 
 in all respects under one's own control. Do you think 
 Miss Wilton's is, for example?" 
 
 "In what way do you mean?" 
 
 "I mean, do you think she is really frightened of 
 her mother?" 
 
 That was exactly what Norma did not know. She 
 could sympathize with everybody, but she could not 
 understand everybody; and having plenty of courage 
 herself, she had difficulty in believing that any girl could 
 be coerced by a peevish old woman into doing what 
 she not only disliked but knew to be wrong. No doubt
 
 l66 MISS SHAFTO. 
 
 she under-estimated the power of peevish old women, 
 which is in reahty enormous. At length she said— 
 
 "If you ask me, I think everything depends upon 
 yourself. Girls generally doubt whether a man is in 
 earnest until he has spoken out." 
 
 "Well, I have done that," answered Lord Walter, 
 who then related what had taken place at Mrs. Lacy's' 
 ball, and begged Miss Shafto to give him her honest 
 opinion of his chances. He was in truth very sanguine, 
 and wanted rather to obtain some promise of assistance 
 as against Mrs. Wilton than to be told what he already 
 knew, that, since he had not been refused, he had been 
 in a measure accepted. It was therefore something of 
 a surprise and disappointment to him when Norma 
 said — 
 
 "I can't tell you; Madge has rather avoided me of 
 late. But it is a pity that you did not make her give 
 you a distinct answer. If she had once confessed that 
 she cared for you, it would be different. Mrs. Wilton 
 is not a wicked woman. She has done her best to find 
 rich husbands for her daughters, and one can't blame 
 her for that; but I don't think she would urge any 
 daughter of hers to marry a rich man, knowing quite 
 well that she loved a poor one." 
 
 "It seems to me," observed Lord Walter, "that the 
 question is not whether she has said that she cares for 
 me, but whether she does care for me." 
 
 Perhaps that was the question; of course it ought 
 by rights to be the question; but Norma was not certain 
 about it. However, on being further consulted, she 
 readily promised to give her confidant such aid as it 
 might be in her power to give, and she strongly advised 
 
 I
 
 LORD WALTER GOES TO SEEK HIS FORTUNE. I 67 
 
 him to be in Scotland as soon after the twelfth as 
 possible. "Because," she added, "I should not at all 
 wonder if Mr. Lacy were to ask Sir Christopher Shear- 
 man down for the grouse-shooting." 
 
 "I suppose you won't be in Scotland this summer?" 
 Lord Walter said. 
 
 "Oh no; papa has taken a house at Folkestone for 
 three months, and I don't know what we shall do after 
 that. If we can find a tenant for this house, we shall 
 go abroad most likely." 
 
 Upon the whole. Lord Walter went away not ill 
 satisfied with the upshot of this conference and sin- 
 cerely grateful for the friendly spirit in which he had 
 been met. Rightly or wrongly, he was persuaded that 
 Miss Shafto had great influence over her friends, and 
 that this influence would be exerted on his behalf he 
 had been assured. Also she had begged him to write 
 to her as soon as he should have any news to com- 
 municate. 
 
 The following day brought him a little piece of 
 good fortune in the shape of an invitation to join his 
 brother's shooting party in Aberdeenshire on the eigh- 
 teenth. Thus he was spared the disagreeable necessity 
 of asking to be asked; and during the period of quiet 
 and solitude which intervened between the day of his 
 visit to Norma and that of his departure for the north 
 he worked hard and steadily. It was then, indeed, 
 that he conceived and partially executed the exquisite 
 female figure which, under the name of "Suspense," 
 has since become celebrated. 
 
 Suspense is not always painful; that is to say that 
 it is not painful to all temperaments. Lord Walter,
 
 1 68 MISS SHAFTO. 
 
 when the time came for him to journey northwards, set 
 forth with feehngs of pleasurable excitement rather than 
 of trepidation. He stept at Edinburgh, not caring to 
 submit to the misery of an all-night journey; and on 
 the succeeding evening reached Lord Loddondale's 
 shooting-lodge, where he found four other guests be- 
 sides himself assembled. During dinner the talk was 
 of sport and of nothing else; but afterwards, when three 
 of the party had fallen asleep and had dropped their 
 cigars, the survivor said casually to his host — 
 
 "Do you know anything about your neighbour Lacy, 
 Loddondale?" 
 
 "Dick Lacy?" answered Lord Loddondale. "Oh 
 yes! I know him a little. Not a bad sort of fellow. 
 Friend of yours, by the way, Walter — or at least his 
 sister-in-law is. More by token, she is staying there 
 now, with her old mother. A man who asks his mother- 
 in-law to stay with him for three or four weeks at a 
 stretch must be a good sort of fellow, eh?" 
 
 "And a man who asks that little cad Shearman to 
 stay with him must be next door to an angel," remarked 
 the first speaker, laughing. 
 
 "Is Sir Christopher Shearman there?" inquired 
 Lord Walter. 
 
 "Rather! That's why Mrs. Wilton and her daughter 
 are there, I take it. The beggar can shoot, LIl say 
 that for him; but I shouldn't care to have him in the 
 house, and I certainly shouldn't care to lend a hand in 
 marrying my wife's sister to him — if I had a wife and 
 she had a sister. One understands women doing that 
 sort of thing; but a man ought to know better. I was
 
 LORD WALTER GOES TO SEEK HIS FORTUNE. I 69 
 
 thinking of that when I asked Loddondale whether he 
 knew anything of Lacy." 
 
 Lord Loddondale screwed up his httle red eyes and 
 grinned. "Bless your innocence!" said he; "you don't 
 suppose a married man is master in his own house, 
 do you?" 
 
 The subject was not pursued much further, and 
 everybody retired to bed at an early hour. As for 
 Lord Walter, he was a little, but not very much, dis- 
 quieted by what he had heard. That Sir Christopher 
 should be staying with the Lacys was, after all, no sur- 
 prise to him, though of course it might prove to be 
 something of an inconvenience. 
 
 The next day he was out on the moor from early 
 morning to late evening, and the object of this un- 
 remitting attention to business was achieved in the shape 
 of a very heavy bag, to which Lord Walter contributed 
 his fair share. It was hard work; but none of the men 
 seemed to mind it. They were enthusiastic sportsmen 
 and excellent shots, and if they had not been both, 
 would hardly have been invited to occupy their present 
 quarters. Lord Walter, who was in anything but first- 
 rate condition after so many months of London, was 
 thoroughly tired out before nightfall, and was not sorry 
 for it, as this gave him a plausible excuse for announc- 
 ing that he meant to take a rest on the morrow. His 
 fellow-guests remonstrated with him; but Lord Loddon- 
 dale, who was not as a rule lenient to shirkers, only 
 laughed. 
 
 "I suppose you're going over to Lacy's place to- 
 morrow, Walter," he remarked, halting for a moment at 
 his brother's door on his way up to bed.
 
 170 MISS SHAFTO. 
 
 "Well, yes, I think very likely I shall," answered 
 Lord Walter; "I ought to call there. Is it far off?" 
 
 "Take the dog-cart, if you like; but you'll have a 
 bad road and a roundabout one. You could walk it 
 in less than an hour. Somebody will show you the 
 way. If I were you, I shouldn't go at all; but then 
 I'm not you, thank goodness! Well, I dare say you 
 won't want to go a second time. Good night." 
 
 Lord Loddondale walked away, laughing. Little as 
 he went into society, he heard something of its gossip, 
 and both Lady Huddersfield and Mrs. Lacy were well- 
 known people. From what he had been told of them, 
 as well as of Mrs. Wilton, he did not imagine that a 
 very cordial reception was in store for his younger 
 brother. 
 
 But no such apprehensions disturbed the rest of 
 Lord Walter, who slept like a top and did not wake 
 until long after the sportsmen had resumed their daily 
 labours. He spent a long, pleasant morning all by 
 himself, lying full length upon the heathery ground 
 which surrounded the shooting-lodge, reading the news- 
 papers and dreaming. It was a hot, still day; the 
 rounded outlines of the middle distance and the far- 
 away blue hills were softened by a haze which spread 
 itself over the whole sky towards noon; there was a 
 slumberous murmur of insects in the air, and from the 
 earth arose the faint, slightly pungent odour which be- 
 longs to the moors. Under such conditions the least 
 imaginative men are tempted to indulge in day-dreams; 
 and indeed they might be worse employed. We all 
 have in us the elements of perfectibility: it is not difficult 
 to conceive of a society from which greed, selfishness,
 
 LORD WALTER GOES TO SEEK HIS FORTUNE. I 7 I 
 
 and all the meaner vices which disfigure ourselves and 
 our neighbours should be eliminated; it is not difficult 
 to ascribe to a given fellow-creature those attributes 
 which all ought to possess; and it is as easy as any- 
 thing can be to picture a married life made up of 
 graceful harmonies. Of course the realities of existence 
 are for the most part hard and ugly. Births, illnesses, 
 deaths, with their attendant circumstances; weekly bills, 
 the adverse criticisms of an ill-informed press, the dread- 
 ful tedium of social intercourse — these are not very 
 pretty things to contemplate; but then there is no reason 
 at all why one should contemplate them on a summer's 
 day. They form a part — and a tolerably large part 
 too — of our earthly lot; but they do not form the whole 
 of it, and if Walter Sinclair was able for a brief space 
 to realize mentally ideals which were not actually 
 realizable, he was by so much the better off. Madge 
 Wilton did not happen to be his ideal of feminine ex- 
 cellence, so that he had a little trouble in the construc- 
 tion of his airy castles; but he managed to construct 
 them, in spite of all obstacles, and Avent indoors at 
 length to eat his luncheon with a light heart and a fine 
 appetite. 
 
 Towards three o'clock he made inquiries as to the 
 way to Inverstrachan, which was the name of Mr. Lacy's 
 house, and was offered the services of a lad to conduct 
 him thither; but verbal instructions, together with a 
 cursory study of the Ordnance map, seemed to be 
 sufficient, and presently he set forth to learn his fate. 
 For he felt very sure that his fate would be decided, 
 one way or the other, within the next few hours. 
 
 The weather by this time had begun to show signs
 
 172 MISS SHAFTO. 
 
 of an approaching change; the atmosphere had become 
 stifling, and heavy cirro-cumulus clouds were drifting 
 slowly up against the feeble westerly breeze. "We shall 
 have a thunderstorm before sunset," thought Lord 
 Walter. "Well, I don't much care, so long as I get to 
 the end of my walk without a wetting." 
 
 And it occurred to him that to be detained at 
 Inverstrachan by stress of weather might not, perhaps, 
 be such a very disagreeable experience. He laughed 
 a little as he imagined the scene — Madge standing be- 
 side him at the window, looking out to see whether it 
 wasn't going to clear; Sir Christopher angry and suspi- 
 cious; Mrs. Wilton fretful and uneasy; Mrs. Lacy — he 
 had seen Mrs. Lacy at her own ball, in the guise of 
 Semiramis — a faded, tired-looking woman, who bore a 
 strong family likeness to her mother, and who would 
 doubtless be prepared to act as her mother's chief of 
 the staff in the impending campaign. Well, supposing 
 he were to take all these bulls by the horns? Would 
 not that be the most straightforward and the wisest 
 course to adopt? He really was not very much afraid 
 of them; and Avhy should poor little Madge have to 
 bear the whole brunt of their attacks? 
 
 "Mrs. Wilton," Norma had said, "is not a wicked 
 woman," and in truth it did not seem at all likely that 
 she was. A little good-humoured determination would 
 suffice, he thought, to vanquish her. One could not 
 expect that she would be pleased; but one might ven- 
 ture to look forward to the probability of her becoming 
 resigned. However, there was one preliminary obstacle 
 in his path. By means of some stratagem or other, he 
 must contrive to get private speech of Madge, and the
 
 LORD WALTER GOES TO SEEK. HIS FORTUNE. I 7 3 
 
 consideration of how this was to be accompUshed gave 
 ample scope to his ingenuity as he tramped briskly 
 over the rocks and heather. 
 
 But it appeared that the stars in their courses were 
 fighting in his favour; for hardly had he made out 
 Inverstrachan, a solid gray mansion, standing beneath 
 a sheltering shoulder of the hills, when he also dis- 
 tinguished a solitary female figure approaching him. 
 There was no mistaking the identity of that small per- 
 son, though she wore a shooting-skirt and a deerstalker, 
 which altered her aspect a little from that which he 
 had been accustomed to associate with her. It was 
 evident, too, that she had seen him, and was making 
 straight for him. She was walking up hill, and he 
 down; so he quickened his pace to a run, and in a 
 very few minutes he was holding her by both hands. 
 
 A light of welcome was in her eyes and a smile 
 upon her lips; she did not seem to resent the im- 
 petuosity of his unspoken greeting, nor did she with- 
 draw her hands. All was well, then! Mrs. Wilton and 
 Mrs. Lacy and Sir Christopher might gnash their teeth 
 or tear their hair or submit to the inevitable with a 
 good grace, as might seem best to them; for they were 
 beaten before the fight had begun.
 
 174 ^"SS SHAFTO. 
 
 CHAPTER XV. 
 
 LORD WALTER IS ANSWERED. 
 
 Madge gently freed herself at length from the grip 
 of her jubilant suitor, who, for his part, was willing to 
 release her, pending explanations which might be super- 
 fluous, but which were not likely to be protracted. 
 
 "I am so glad I met you!" she said. "Were you 
 on your Avay to Inverstrachan? I had a sort of idea 
 that you might look us up to-day." 
 
 "Of course I was on my way to Inverstrachan. I 
 only arrived forty-eight hours ago, and I was obliged 
 to shoot all yesterday; but to-day I made my escape 
 on the plea of being tired out. How did you know 
 that I was in these parts?" 
 
 She laughed. "Oh, I heard that you were ex- 
 pected; one hears a great many things when one has a 
 maid who is upon terms of intimacy with somebody 
 else's valet." 
 
 "And you came out on purpose to meet me? How 
 good of you!" 
 
 "Indeed, I did nothing of the sort! The men are 
 shooting, and my mother and sister have gone for a 
 drive, and I am taking a constitutional, that is all." 
 
 That was, at any rate, all that she could be ex- 
 pected to say, and Lord Walter felt it to be quite
 
 LORD WALTER IS ANSWERED. I 75 
 
 enough, "And are you glad to see me?" he asked, 
 for the pleasure of hearing her repeat that she was. 
 
 She coloured a little, and laughed again. "I am 
 not sure that I ought to be," she replied; "but it ts 
 pleasant to meet one's friends; and all the mothers and 
 sisters in the world can't make it unpleasant, can they?" 
 
 "I hope not." 
 
 "Although," added Madge, with a sigh, "they can 
 make most things unpleasant. You haven't any mother 
 or any sisters, have you?" 
 
 Lord Walter regretted that he had not. 
 
 "I wouldn't be too regretful over it, if I were you. 
 There are deprivations which are blessings in dis- 
 guise." 
 
 In the overflowing gladness and charity of his heart, 
 Lord Walter was very nearly taking up the cudgels on 
 behalf of mothers and sisters whose intentions were 
 doubtless good in the main; for who cares to trample 
 upon a fallen foe? But for the moment he had matters 
 of greater importance than that to talk about. 
 
 "You see," he said, "I have obeyed your orders by 
 coming to Scotland, and I have lost as little time as 
 possible about it too. Loddondale only asked me for 
 the eighteenth, or I should have come sooner." 
 
 "My orders?" she repeated, with a wondering look. 
 "Oh, you mean that night at the ball. Yes; I believe 
 I did say that I hoped we might come across one an- 
 other in the Highlands; but of course I never meant 
 that you were to make a point of it. In fact, if you 
 won't mind my speaking plainly, I couldn't promise you 
 a very warm welcome at Inverstrachan. Constance 
 Lacy says Lord Loddondale asks such very odd people
 
 176 MISS SHAFTO. 
 
 to Stay with him, and there never has been any visiting 
 between the two houses, and — and — don't you think it 
 would perhaps be better if you didn't call?" 
 
 This speech was not altogether agreeable to Lord 
 Walter. He had no fancy for clandestine meetings, and 
 had, besides, sense enough to know that he would put 
 himself entirely in the wrong by consenting to anything 
 of the kind. Yet this was obviously what Madge was 
 hinting at. He did not think the worse of her for the 
 suggestion. No doubt the poor girl had been bullied 
 and worried at home, and it was natural enough that 
 she should be tempted to deceive those whose method 
 of treating her had been of that kind which inevitably 
 engenders deception. Nevertheless, he must make her 
 understand that honesty was best, and indeed the only 
 policy for her to pursue. 
 
 He was casting about him for words which should 
 convey his meaning without making him appear too 
 priggish, when the first drop of the approaching storm 
 created a diversion by falling with a splash upon his 
 nose. The thunder had been already for some time 
 grumbling among the distant hills; and that these two 
 persons must have been very much interested in one 
 another is proved by the circumstance that neither of 
 them had as yet bestowed a word or a thought upon 
 atmospheric conditions. Now, however, it was no longer 
 possible to ignore the imminence of a thorough drenching. 
 
 "What shall we do!" exclaimed Madge. "It is 
 going to deluge; and there isn't a roof to cover us any- 
 where between this and Inverstrachan." 
 
 It was, at all events, evident that Inverstrachan 
 could not possibly be reached before the storm broke.
 
 LORD Walter is ajJswered. 177 
 
 Lord Walter pointed this out; and even as he spoke, a 
 furious gust of wind, accompanied by driving rain, swept 
 over the moor. There was nothing for it but to seek 
 such shelter as could be found under the lee of an 
 overhanging boulder; and for a few minutes it seemed 
 as if that would suffice for all intents and purposes. 
 Lord Walter made Madge crouch down beneath it, and, 
 despite her remonstrances, insisted upon taking off his 
 coat and wrapping it round her shoulders. As a matter 
 of fact, it was only the fringe of the thunderstorm that 
 reached them, the distant hills having drawn it away; 
 still the lightning was vivid enough and the thunder 
 loud enough to alarm a nervous person, and Madge 
 declared that she was frightened out of her wits. 
 
 "I am a dreadful coward," she said, looking up 
 deprecatingly at her neighbour. "Did you know that 
 before? At any rate, you know it now." 
 
 A dispassionate looker-on might have thought that 
 Miss Wilton was hardly fair to herself, for she had not 
 turned pale nor was she trembling; and in truth physi- 
 cal cowardice was not one of her defects. But per- 
 haps no lover expects or particularly wishes the woman 
 whom he loves to be physically brave. Lord Walter 
 comforted and encouraged her, at first by words, and 
 then — for of course they were very close to one an- 
 other — by action. Under all the circumstances, it was 
 neither a very audacious nor a very unnatural thing to 
 pass his arm round her waist; but the moment that he 
 did so she started away from him, exclaiming with an 
 agitation which was not feigned this time, "No — no! 
 You mustn't!" 
 
 But he did not mind that; because it was quite 
 
 Miss Shafio. I. I Z
 
 1/8 MISS SHAFTO. 
 
 necessary that there should be a clear understanding 
 between them, and this seemed to be as good an oc- 
 casion as another for initiating it. Taking her by the 
 hand, he drew her gently back under the rock, from 
 the protection of which she had sprung, and said — 
 
 "Madge, I have either taken a great liberty, or I 
 have done nothing that ought to offend you. Which is 
 it? You know I love you, and you know I am only 
 liere to ask you whether you will be my wife or not. 
 It's a great deal to ask; and yet, if you love me, I sup- 
 pose you won't think it a great deal. It just comes to 
 this, that I am a poor man, and that I have no certain 
 prospect of ever being anything else." 
 
 Madge shook her head sorrowfully. "All the nice 
 people are poor," she sighed. And then, laughing a 
 little, "Do you think that is the way in which Providence 
 tries to keep things pretty comfortable all round? It 
 isn't a very successful way. I should make all the 
 horrid men, like Sir Christopher Shearman and Baron 
 Lammergeier, paupers, and hand their wealth over to 
 the others. Then at least somebody would be happy; 
 and as for the Lammergeiers and Shearmans, I dare 
 say it would improve their manners immensely to break 
 stones on the road. Just fancy if you were only 
 moderately rich — ten thousand a year, or something 
 like that. What fun we might have! A house in May- 
 fair and a moor in Scotland, if you cared for that, and 
 perhaps a modest little yacht. Then in the winter we 
 would go up the Nile or travel about in sunny places. 
 I sometimes dream of it." 
 
 It was a seductive picture, no doubt; and it was 
 pleasant to hear that anything of the kind had been
 
 LORD WALTER IS ANSWERED. I 79 
 
 the subject of her dreams. No one will be unreason- 
 able enough to expect of a man so deeply in love as 
 Walter Sinclair that he should cavil at the selfishness 
 of such visions. "I am afraid," he answered, "that I 
 shall never have ten thousand a year; about a fifth of 
 that will be more like it. Even with what I have we 
 could get on; though I don't deny that it might be 
 prudent to wait a little." 
 
 "Prudent or imprudent," said Madge sadly, "it isn't 
 to be thought of. Indeed, I ought not to stay and listen 
 to you; only" — and here she began to laugh again, 
 though in a somewhat lachrymose way — "I can't very 
 well go away until it stops raining." 
 
 At that moment the rain was coming down in tor- 
 rents, and, the wind having dropped, our friends were 
 scarcely drier in their place of refuge than they would 
 have been upon the open moor. But to one of them 
 at least that was a matter of small consequence. 
 
 "Madge," he said earnestly, "let us look things in 
 the face. We shall have a bad quarter of an hour — 
 perhaps a bad week or two; but I suppose we can 
 survive that much, " 
 
 "You don't know," interrupted' Madge, "what 
 mamma is." 
 
 "Well, I know, of course, that she wants you to 
 marry Sir Christopher Shearman." 
 
 Madge jumped up. "I had bettor tell you the 
 truth," she exclaimed desperately; "I am going to 
 marry him." 
 
 Lord Walter ought not to have been very much 
 astonished; but he was astonished, and what was more, 
 he was disgusted. "Going to marry him!" he re-
 
 l8o MISS shafto, 
 
 peated. "You can't mean that you have accepted the 
 man!" 
 
 "I couldn't help accepting him; didn't I tell you 
 just now that I am a coward? I can't bear to be scolded 
 from morning to night. I would marry anybody rather 
 than be scolded, and I knew all along that I should 
 have to marry Sir Christopher in the end. So did 
 mamma, or she would never have allowed you to come 
 and see us as often as you did in London." 
 
 There was a pause; after which Lord Walter said, 
 in a slightly altered tone, "One thing at least I have a 
 right to ask: do you love me or not?" 
 
 "But surely," remonstrated Madge, "that is just what 
 you have no right to ask. Even if I did, I couldn't 
 confess it, now that I am engaged to somebody else. 
 Could I?" 
 
 It is not very easy to look dignified or imposing 
 when you are in your shirt-sleeves and are dripping 
 from head to foot into the bargain; but Lord Walter 
 was tall and handsome, and the set of his features when 
 he was angered was very stern. It may have been this, 
 or it may have been a guilty conscience, that caused 
 Madge to cower before him, and drop her eyes, while 
 he stood gazing at her in silence. 
 
 "I don't know why we should quarrel about it," 
 she murmured; "it isn't my fault that we are both poor. 
 I thought you would be sorry for me; but instead of 
 that, you seem to think that it is you who are ill- 
 used." 
 
 Well, if he did think so he might, no doubt, have 
 given reasons for holding that opinion; but his inclina- 
 tion, after the first moment, was not to upbraid her.
 
 LORD WALTER IS ANSWERED. l8l 
 
 What he was resolved to do, if it could possibly be 
 done, was to persuade her to break off this unnatural 
 engagement; and very much surprised he was to find 
 that, notwithstanding all the eloquence that he had at 
 command, it could not be done. Madge let him talk, 
 and made no attempt to defend herself, and shed a few 
 tears; but for any effect that his words produced upon 
 her beyond that, he might as well have pleaded with 
 the rock against which she was leaning. Meanwhile a 
 brisk breeze had sprung up, clearing away the clouds, 
 and the sun was shining once more. Madge took the 
 coat off her shoulders, and handed it back to its owner. 
 
 "I must go," she said. "And you had better go 
 home too as quickly as you can, or you will be catch- 
 ing cold or rheumatic fever or something." 
 
 "Are we to part like this, then?" he asked. "Did 
 you bring me to Scotland only to tell me that you are 
 engaged to Sir Christopher Shearman?" 
 
 "I didn't bring you to Scotland. I don't know what 
 you mean," she returned. "I thought you were so 
 nice; but I see you are just like mamma and all the 
 others. You only think of yourself, and the moment 
 that you don't get what you want you begin to scold. 
 Nobody is really nice, except Norma Shafto." 
 
 There was a spice of truth in this childish reproach 
 which almost made I^ord Walter laugh, little as he was 
 disposed to merriment. Presently he said — 
 
 "I will try to be less selfish, then. I will put my- 
 self out of the question — as indeed I must, for you 
 have shown me plainly enough that you don't care for 
 me as I hoped you might — and I will only entreat you 
 for your own sake to dismiss this man, whom you make
 
 I 82 MISS SHAFTO. 
 
 no pretence of loving. I don't think you can realize 
 what you are doing." 
 
 "He will be kind to me," said Madge meditatively. 
 
 "And you will have plenty of money, which is al- 
 ways a great consolation." 
 
 It was the first bitter speech that he had made to 
 her, and he was ashamed of it as soon as it had passed 
 his lips; but he had no need to repent, for she took it 
 quite literally. 
 
 "Yes," she agreed, "there is that. And money is 
 a great consolation, as every one knows." 
 
 What more could be said? Lord Walter simply 
 took off his hat and turned away. But such was her 
 innate kindness of heart that she did not wish him to 
 depart in anger. 
 
 "How disagreeable you are!" she exclaimed. "Why 
 should we not be friends still?" 
 
 "To be candid," he replied, "I don't think it would 
 be very easy for us to remain friends. We can be 
 acquaintances, if you please; though perhaps even that 
 would be scarcely desirable. Speaking for myself, I 
 would rather remember you as you were a few weeks 
 ago than know you as Lady Shearman." 
 
 "Very well," said Madge, drawing herself up; "if 
 you choose to blame me for my misfortunes, I can't 
 help it. Sir Christopher has a horrid temper; but I 
 don't think it is as bad as yours, and I don't think he 
 is as unjust as you either. Good-bye." 
 
 He did not attempt to detain her; though he saw 
 that she was not unwiUing to be detained. He could 
 not tell her that he was sorry for her, nor could he 
 quite forgive her. Very likely a certain amount of
 
 LORD WALTER IS ANSWERED. I 83 
 
 pressure had been brought to bear upon her; but that 
 she had made any serious endeavour to resist that pres- 
 sure it was impossible to suppose; and she had as good 
 as admitted that Sir Christopher's money would com- 
 pensate her for the life-long companionship of Sir 
 Christopher. He watched her for a few seconds, while 
 she slowly made her way down the hill-side, then 
 turned on his heel and strode off in the opposite direc- 
 tion. 
 
 There are certain matters of fact, so well known 
 and universally admitted as to be mere commonplaces, 
 which nevertheless seldom fail to startle those to whom 
 they are brought home by personal experience. We all 
 know that women constantly marry for money or posi- 
 tion; yet we are always a little surprised when any 
 woman we have liked acts in this way. Walter Sinclair, 
 who had not only liked Madge, but had fallen in love 
 with her, was a great deal more horrified by her 
 cynicism than he had appeared to be. It was unnatural, 
 he thought; though if the circumstances had been nar- 
 rated to him by anybody else, he would have pro- 
 nounced them to be perfectly natural and just what 
 might have been anticipated. Either way, there was an 
 end of his hopes. He had had his answer, which had 
 been as final as could be wished, and the sooner he 
 took himself out of the country the better. 
 
 During dinner he was asked no questions as to how 
 he had spent the afternoon, and he flattered himself 
 that his countenance told no tales; nevertheless, Lord 
 Loddondale, whose little red eyes were sharp ones, 
 found an opportunity later in the evening of saying to 
 him, not unkindly —
 
 184 I^nSS SHAFTO. 
 
 "You've had a facer, haven't you, old man? I knew 
 you would; but there wasn't much use in telling you so." 
 
 "Well, then — yes, I have," answered Walter, who 
 knew that he would be obliged to admit the truth pre- 
 sently, and thought he might as well do so without 
 further waste of words. "I don't want it talked about; 
 but that is just what has happened to me; so, if you 
 don't mind, I'll be off south again to-morrow morning. 
 I can't stay on here, under the circumstances." 
 
 "Do as you like, of course," said his brother; "but 
 I don't myself see why you should run away. You're 
 deuced well out of it, let me tell you, though you mayn't 
 think so now, and there's nothing like sport to make 
 one forget these little disappointments. As for your 
 meeting the girl again, you're no more likely to do that 
 here than if you were in London." 
 
 "Perhaps not; but I shall go rather further away 
 than London, I think; and I don't mind acknowledging 
 that the disappointment isn't a little one." 
 
 "Oh, you'll get over it; you'll be all right," said 
 Lord Loddondale encouragingly. "Take my word for 
 it, there's only one way in which a woman can give you 
 a great disappointment, and that is by marrying you. 
 However, you're sure to marry; and, as I told you be- 
 fore, if I were in your shoes, I should try to marry 
 Miss Shafto. She's exceptional; I don't believe she 
 would disappoint anybody." 
 
 "Then why don't you try to marry her yourself?" 
 
 "For several good reasons, which I ain't going to 
 tell you. Good night, Walter; turn it over in your 
 mind, and if to-morrow morning you feel inclined to
 
 NORMA SEES TWO OF HER FRIENDS. I 85 
 
 Stay where you are, we shall all be very glad. If you 
 don't, I'll keep your secret. It isn't over and above 
 likely that Miss Wilton will, though; they never do." 
 
 CHAPTER XVI. 
 
 NORMA SEES TWO OF HER FRIENDS. 
 
 Charity proverbially begins at home; and it may 
 be said of Miss Shafto, whose whole life was given up 
 to charity of one kind or another, that she paid due at- 
 tention to that axiom. The charity which is generally 
 necessary for home use consists, one may almost venture 
 to affirm, chiefly in looking pleasant. This ought not 
 to be a very difficult feat; but it cannot be easy, or the 
 failure of most of us to accomplish it would not be 
 so conspicuous. When we are constrained to do what 
 is altogether repugnant to our tastes (and are not so 
 much as thanked for doing it), we are perhaps entitled 
 to assume an injured or a sulky air; yet if, by heroic 
 effort, we can manage to refrain from such an exhibi- 
 tion of feeling, it is not improbable that we shall 
 eventually reap our reward in some indirect Hishion. 
 Norma Shafto hated Folkestone; but she had not by 
 word or look insinuated to her father that she was dis- 
 satisfied with the bare, windy watering-place to which 
 he had transported his household gods for the summer. 
 Thus, if she obtained no other reward for her forbear- 
 ance, she had at least that of sparing him vexation; for 
 he declared that he was always contented when she
 
 I 85 MISS SHAFTO. 
 
 was, and without any doubt he beUeved himself to be 
 telhng the truth in so declaring. 
 
 But as for being really contented in a place like 
 Folkestone, away from all her friends and occupations, 
 that was not possible. There was, to be sure, a Con- 
 valescent Home, at which she had been asked to visit 
 certain London patients, and thither she betook herself 
 daily; but, with the exception of this not very arduous 
 duty, she had no work to do, and the amusements 
 affected by the few friends whom she had in the place 
 had the fatal drawback of not amusing her. 
 
 Mr. Shafto, on the other hand, liked Folkestone very 
 well. He could always get a rubber of whist at the 
 club, he was continually coming across people whom he 
 knew amongst the promenaders at the band, and he 
 fancied that the air suited him better than that of 
 Stourshire. Moreover, he was a good deal away. What 
 was the precise nature of the business which took him 
 up to London two or three times a week he did not 
 state; but Norma was given to understand in general 
 terms that he was occupied with highly lucrative money 
 transactions in the City, where he was wont to meet 
 his friend Baron Lammergeier, whose fine place in 
 Hertfordshire was within easy reach of the capital. 
 One evening he announced with satisfaction that he 
 had persuaded that valued counsellor to run down to 
 Folkestone on a couple of days' visit, and to bring Mrs. 
 Lammergeier with him. 
 
 "It's rather an honour, you know," he explained. 
 "At least, it's a favour. Lammergeier says he likes 
 nothing better than filling his own house; but he's so 
 busy that he has to make it a rule never to stay with
 
 NORMA SEES TWO OP HER FRIENDS. 1 87 
 
 people. It seems, however, that his wife has taken a 
 great a fancy to you; so they are going to break through 
 their practice for once." 
 
 Accordingly the Lammergeiers arrived, ^vith a valet, 
 a maid, two pugs and an enormous quantity of luggage. 
 
 "I'm sorry about the dogs," Mrs. Lammergeier took 
 an early opportunity of saying to Norma; "but they 
 always accompany us when we pay visits. Hermann 
 insists upon it. He has heard that certain Royalties 
 always take their dogs about with them; and as every- 
 body particularly dislikes this habit, it gives us a sort 
 of prestige, you see, to follow the Royal example." 
 
 "I like dogs for their own sake," answered Norma; 
 "they won't be any inconvenience to me. And I sup- 
 pose they don't often inconvenience others; for I hear 
 from papa that you refuse all invitations to stay with 
 your friends." 
 
 "Did Hermann tell him that? If so, Hermann was 
 guilty of a slight exaggeration. What he must have 
 meant to say was that we indignantly refuse to stay 
 with those who have neither money nor a title. I need 
 hardly point out to you that we, who have nothing 
 common about us, cannot consent to appear common." 
 
 Mrs. Lammergeier remained in this somewhat dis- 
 concertingly sarcastic mood throughout the evening; 
 but on the following day, after her husband had 
 sauntered down to the harbour with Mr. Shafto to see 
 the Boulogne boat come in, she asked Norma to come 
 out for a walk with her, and began to talk about 
 schemes for promoting the welfare of the working classes 
 with something more like the humility which she had 
 displayed in an earlier stage of their acquaintanceship.
 
 Ibb MISS SHAFTO. 
 
 "It isn't that I have the smallest faith in your 
 Utopia," she remarked, after a time; "but you are so 
 delightfully reasonable and practical about it that it's a 
 pleasure to listen to you; and I've no doubt you do 
 some good, though I never should." Then, with an 
 abrupt change of subject, she asked, "Have you any 
 influence over your father?" 
 
 "In some ways I think I have," Norma replied. 
 
 "Then get him to drop business relations with 
 Hermann, if you can. There's a nice thing for a woman 
 to say about her husband ! But I'm not saying anything 
 against him, mind you; and in fact I don't know any- 
 thing. Only I have observed that the small people — I 
 mean the people of comparatively small fortune — who 
 are mixed up in his speculations generally come to grief. 
 Hermann himself comes to grief from time to time; but 
 then Hermann has enormous capital, or enormous credit, 
 or something, and it doesn't seem to hurt him much. The 
 others sink. Don't ask me any questions, please. I 
 can't tell you more than that, and perhaps I wouldn't 
 if I could. But I felt as if it would make me rather 
 more comfortable to tell you that much." 
 
 Now this warning, to which no subsequent allusion 
 was made, caused Norma a good deal of uneasiness. 
 She had a strong suspicion that Mrs. Lammergeier had 
 come to Folkestone for no other purpose than to deliver 
 it, and she thought it over long and anxiously after 
 that lady's departure. Yet she knew her father well 
 enough to know that no effort on her part to shake the 
 confidence which he reposed in Baron Lammergeier 
 would be at all likely to meet with success; and indeed
 
 NORMA SEES two OP HER FRIENDS. l8g 
 
 the tentative remonstrances which she essayed both 
 surprised and angered him. 
 
 "My dear child," said he, "you really must allow 
 me to be the best judge of how I am to conduct my 
 own affairs. I don't interfere with you in housekeeping 
 matters, about which I admit that you know a great 
 deal more than I do. Of course I know what it is: some 
 silly woman has been telling you that Lammergeier is 
 an adventurer. Well, I think he can afford to disregard 
 such calumnies; but it so happens that if he were the 
 biggest thief in Europe it would make no difference to 
 me. I have asked his advice and profited by it, and 
 more than once he has very generously gone out of his 
 way to tide me over a difficulty; but individually he 
 does not hold a sixpence of my money." 
 
 "But is there any necessity to speculate at all?" 
 Norma ventured to ask. "Can't we live upon what we 
 have?" 
 
 "There is every necessity," returned her father irri- 
 tably; "and as for living upon what we have, I can 
 tell you that if I hadn't had the good luck to let 
 Brampton, I should be most unpleasantly pinched at 
 the present moment." Then he laughed and stroked 
 her hair, and added, "You're a wise woman, my dear, 
 and you disapprove of risk, as all wise women should; 
 but then, you see, you don't know quite everything. 
 After all, if I want to become a little richer, it's more 
 for your sake than my own." 
 
 There was not much consolation to be got out of 
 that; but Norma made good her title to be considered 
 a wise woman by holding her peace, and Mr. Shafto's 
 visits to London continued to be frequent.
 
 I go MISS SHAFTO. 
 
 It was at this time that a letter from Madge Wihon 
 reached her friend which had the effect of temporarily 
 making the latter forget Baron Lammergeier and the 
 Stock Exchange. Madge, who wrote from Scotland, 
 had a great many trivial questions to ask, and a great 
 many unimportant things to say. It was not until she 
 had read five pages of note-paper that Norma came to 
 the following announcement: — 
 
 "Now, my dear old Norma, I am going to tell you 
 something that will rejoice your heart or make your 
 hair stand on end; and the funny thing is that I really 
 don't know which it will do, because you are not a bit 
 like other people. I am going to be married to Sir 
 Christopher Shearman. He asked me in what, for him, 
 was quite a pretty way — very meek and conscious of 
 his unworthiness, and so forth; and I told him plainly 
 that I hadn't the courage to refuse so rich a man. He 
 thought this a capital joke — what it is to have such a 
 sense of humour! — and repeated it afterwards in the draw- 
 ing-room before everybody, to mamma's deep dis- 
 comfiture. What has put such a notion into his head 
 I can't imagine; but I believe he actually thinks I am 
 devoted to him! Meanwhile, he is as respectful as 
 could be wished and takes no liberties, finding that I 
 don't like them. The wedding is to be very soon — 
 before the end of next month, I think — and I want you 
 to be my chief bridesmaid and see me through the 
 trying ceremony. There is an appearance of unseemly 
 haste about this; but Sir Christopher says he doesn't 
 see any object in delay, and mamma, who is mortally 
 afraid of a slip between the cup and the lip, is all for 
 despatch. So before the winter, I suppose, I shall be 

 
 NORMA SEES TWO OF HER FRIENDS, IQI 
 
 reigning at Brampton in your place ! It seems very odd, 
 and not very nice; but perhaps you would rather that 
 we were there than strangers. 
 
 "The other day, as I was walking alone on the hill, 
 I unexpectedly fell in with Lord Walter Sinclair. He 
 is staying with his brother, who has a shooting-lodge 
 near this; but we are not likely to meet again, as 
 Constance says she doesn't care to know Lord Loddon- 
 dale, and I dare say he isn't consumed with anxiety to 
 know her. I don't think I like him very much, after 
 all — Lord Walter, I mean. Very few people improve 
 as one gets better acquainted with them, and he isn't 
 one of the very few." 
 
 All this Norma read with surprise and distress. She 
 had at one time thought that Madge might do worse 
 than accept Sir Christopher, but had changed her mind 
 about that on discovering that the girl's heart had been 
 bestowed elsewhere. And being, as she still was, con- 
 vinced that Madge loved Lord Walter, she was very 
 much afraid that what had happened was the result of 
 some foolish quarrel. 
 
 "I have had a letter from Madge Wilton, announcing 
 her engagement to Sir Christopher Shearman," she 
 said, shortly aftenvards, to her father, who responded 
 heartily — 
 
 "And a very good thing too! I'm delighted to hear 
 it, and not astonished. I had my suspicions, you know. 
 Shearman is a good fellow, and will make a good hus- 
 band, I'm sure." 
 
 "Yes," agreed Norma rather doubtfully. "He is a 
 great deal older than Madge, though." 
 
 "So much .the better. Our little friend Madge is
 
 192 MISS SHAFTO. 
 
 inclined to be flighty, and Shearman will steady her. 
 Shearman is throroughly steady." 
 
 Norma could only hope so; but she had seen Sir 
 Christopher a trifle unsteady on his legs after dinner, 
 while of the instability of his temper she had had more 
 than one proof. Her hope was that Lord Walter would 
 keep his promise of writing to her, and that she would 
 soon receive from him some account of the shipwreck 
 his hopes had suffered. However, the post brought 
 her no letter in his handwriting; and one afternoon she 
 was debating whether it would be very unwise to send 
 a few lines to his London address, when Lord Walter 
 himself was announced. 
 
 "You didn't expect me to turn up here, did you?" 
 said he, as he held out his hand to her. 
 
 "No, indeed," she answered; "I thought you were 
 in Scotland. But I am very glad to see you." 
 
 "Thanks! I can honestly return the compliment. 
 As I am going to cross the Channel to-morrow, I thought 
 I might as well stop a night at Folkestone upon the 
 chance of having a talk with you. I intended to write, 
 as you were kind enough to tell me that I might; but 
 talking is easier than writing — especially when one has 
 bad news to announce. I have been to Scotland for 
 the purpose that you know of, and I have disastrously 
 failed. Perhaps you have heard that already?" 
 
 "Yes," answered Norma; "I had a letter from 
 Madge a few days ago, in which she told me that she 
 had accepted Sir Christopher Shearman. I didn't quite 
 understand it." 
 
 "Oh, there isn't much to understand. She has ac«
 
 NORMA SEES TWO OF HER FRIENDS. I 93 
 
 cepted Shearman, and she is going to marry him; 
 that's all." 
 
 "But I don't understand why she is doing this. 
 Can't you tell me?" 
 
 "I'm afraid I can. She is doing it because she 
 thinks that love is all very well and very pretty in its 
 way, but that it isn't substantial; whereas horses and 
 carriages and frocks and jewels are. As far as I am 
 able to judge, she has given the whole question very 
 careful and dispassionate consideration." 
 
 "But perhaps you are not very well able to judge," 
 observed Norma. "Whatever she may be, you can 
 scarcely be dispassionate in this case; and I shouldn't 
 admire you for it if you were." 
 
 "Well, let us say that I am not dispassionate; it 
 really doesn't much signify. She would marry me if I 
 had Sir Christopher's income; but as I haven't, she 
 won't. That was what she told me, and I have no 
 reason to doubt that her sincerity was equal to her 
 candour. You think I am sore? Yes; I am sore, and 
 I don't deny it. To discover that one has been made 
 a perfect fool of is always mortifying. At the same 
 time, it has perhaps the salutary effect of cauterizing 
 one's wounds." 
 
 Poor Lord Walter's wounds were evidently far from 
 having been cauterized as yet. Norma said, "I don't 
 know what may have taken place in Scotland: but I 
 am convinced that Madge had no thought of making a 
 fool of you when she was in London. If you have 
 quarrelled with her, and if she has taken Sir Chris- 
 topher in a fit of pique, I think you ought to go back, 
 while there is still time, and make friends with her 
 
 A/iss Shafto. /. 13
 
 194 MISS SHAFTO. 
 
 again. It would be a thousand times better to eat 
 humble pie than to let her ruin her whole future life — 
 and yours." 
 
 Lord Walter laughed. "I don't think you have 
 quite taken that young lady's measure yet, Miss Shafto," 
 said he. "How should you? She is one of those 
 people who are very difficult to classify, because they 
 are so perfectly natural. Most of us are hampered by 
 scruples and prejudices — the relics of what we have 
 been taught in our childhood — or by feeble attempts to 
 act up to some standard which we have fixed for our- 
 selves; but she is free from anything of the kind. Her 
 mother, I should imagine, insists upon her going to 
 church once a week, and of course she had her con- 
 firmed at the usual age, and she has since impressed 
 upon her that it is rather wrong to flirt with poor men, 
 and very wrong indeed to marry them. That would be 
 about the extent of the system of morality which she 
 has been taught. Consequently, she follows the dic- 
 tates of Nature as far as she can, but pulls up when 
 she finds herself opposed by the forces of civilization. 
 If you asked her, I am sure she would tell you that she 
 greatly regrets being obliged to marry Sir Christopher 
 Shearman, but that it can't be helped, and that he will 
 make handsome settlements. You need have no fear 
 that her life will be ruined." 
 
 "You are very hard upon her." 
 
 "I don't think so. I believe I am telling the simple 
 truth. You are mistaken in supposing that there was 
 any quarrel between us. I A\-ill tell you exactly what 
 occurred." 
 
 Accordingly he did so; and when he had concluded
 
 NORMA SEES TWO OF HER FRIENDS. I 95 
 
 his narrative, Norma was compelled to admit that the 
 answer which had been given him must be regarded as 
 final. 
 
 "Only," she pleaded, "I think there is just this to 
 be said for poor Madge — that her mother is unsym- 
 pathizing and persistent, and that she herself is not 
 very brave." 
 
 "So she told me. I dare say it is true. There are 
 excuses for everybody and everything. But you see I 
 have been made a fool of, all the same; and whether 
 that was my fault or hers doesn't seem to matter 
 much." 
 
 "And where are you bound for now?" Norma asked 
 presently. 
 
 "For Paris first of all. I used to know a great 
 many of the Parisian artists, and they were a pleasant 
 set of fellows. I shall look them up, and very likely 
 spend the autumn among them at Fontainebleau or one 
 of the places which they affect. Then, later on, I shall 
 make for Rome, and set up a studio there, and begin 
 to work in earnest." 
 
 "Papa often talks of spending next wiiUer in 
 Rome," remarked Norma. "Perhaps we may meet you 
 there." 
 
 "I hope so," said Lord Walter, brightening up a 
 little; "that would be something to look forward to. 
 You have been very kind to me. Miss Shafto; and I'm 
 sure I don't know why, except that it is your way, I 
 suppose, to be kind to everybody. When we meet in 
 Rome, if we do meet there, you will find me quite 
 cured, I hope." 
 
 Norma smiled, and seemed to assent; yet she
 
 196 MISS SHAFTO. 
 
 could not help being a little sorry that in the midst of 
 his mortification and disappointment he should already 
 be looking forward to oblivion. Fidelity to a memory, 
 which a man always feels to be a trifle ridiculous, seems 
 natural and beautiful to women — by whom, in truth, it 
 is sometimes actually achieved; and perhaps that was 
 why Norma added — 
 
 "Do you know, I am a great deal more sorry for 
 Madge than I am for you. I am afraid she hasn't 
 chosen what will make her happy, and she will never 
 be able to go back from her choice now." 
 
 Lord Walter shook his head slightly. He had said 
 all that he intended to say in disparagement of the 
 girl whom he had loved, and whom, in a certain sense, 
 he still loved; as for pity or sympathy, he had not 
 much of either at her service. So he changed the sub- 
 ject, and by-and-by took his leave; and that was the 
 last that Norma saw or heard of him for several 
 months.
 
 HAPPY SIR CHRISTOPHER. 197 
 
 CHAPTER XVII. 
 
 HAPPY SIR CHRISTOPHER. 
 
 It was in fine autumn weather that Norma and her 
 father returned to their own county in order to be pre- 
 sent at Madge's wedding, having been invited to spend 
 a week with Mrs. Wilton for that purpose. Mrs. Wilton's 
 small house would not hold many guests, and she her- 
 self thought that it would have been more proper and 
 fitting to place her spare rooms at the disposal of the 
 Huddersfields and the Lacysj but Madge pointed out 
 that the Lacys, who certainly would not stay more than 
 one night, could be accommodated, that Lord Hudders- 
 field, who could not be made comfortable, would un- 
 doubtedly, if asked, display that sense of what Avas 
 due to himself which he always did display under such 
 circumstances, by making everybody else as uncom- 
 fortable as possible, and finally, that Norma's help in 
 carrying out arrangements for the coming festivities 
 would be invaluable. So Mrs. Wilton being at this 
 time very much pleased with her youngest daughter 
 and unwilling to refuse her anything in reason, grace- 
 fully yielded, and extended to her former neighbours a 
 welcome as warm as it was in her nature to bestow 
 upon anybody. 
 
 A king when once he has abdicated should not re- 
 turn to his former dominions, nor a vicar who has ac-
 
 igS illSS SHAFTO. 
 
 cepted another living to his former parish, nor a squire 
 who has let his place to the estate upon which he has 
 ceased to reside. It is sad (however much one may 
 have been prepared for it) to find that things have 
 deteriorated during one's absence; it is not perhaps 
 quite as satisfactory as it ought to be to find that they 
 have improved; so that, upon the whole, such reap- 
 pearances can only be recommended to persons of 
 large views and sweet temper. However, Norma's 
 temper was perfect, and Mr. Shafto, to do him justice, 
 was a man free from the pettier failings to which human 
 nature is prone. Mr. Shafto, moreover, was just now 
 in excellent spirits and even more than usually dis- 
 posed to look upon the bright side of everything. He 
 had made some lucky speculations; what was perhaps 
 better still, he had escaped without loss from others 
 which had frightened him terribly for a time, and he 
 was now looking forward to a pleasant winter in the 
 south. He did not seem to mind revisiting the scenes 
 amidst which the greater part of his life had been 
 passed, and from which necessity had severed him in 
 his old age; he went about among his tenants, with 
 whom he had always been popular; he dropped in to 
 lunch with the neighbours, who were delighted to see 
 him; he had a day's partridge shooting with Sir Chris- 
 topher Shearman at Brampton, and altogether enjoyed 
 himself amazingly. 
 
 Norma could not rise to quite so high a philosophic 
 level. The surrender of Brampton had been a far 
 heavier trial to her than to her father; she loved every 
 stick and stone about the place, and when she took her 
 walks abroad there was not a thatched cottage nor an 
 
 I
 
 HAPPY SIR CHRISTOPHER. I99 
 
 ivy-grown homestead but seemed to gaze at her re- 
 proachfully. Her poor people, too, sympathized with 
 her, as the manner of their class is, by making the very 
 worst that could be made of a bad business. They 
 shook their heads and wept and said times were hard 
 for all, but 'twas a terrible thing, sure enough, when 
 them as had lived upon the land for centuries were 
 driven out to make room for rich tradesmen and such 
 like. Also they prophesied that the poor old squire 
 would not survive long in exile, "though he do bear up 
 wonderful." And as for themselves, what was to be- 
 come of them, without Miss Norma to help them through 
 their troubles when the winter set in, the Lord alone 
 He knew! 
 
 Nevertheless, it appeared upon furtlier inquiry that 
 these jeremiads were uttered rather as compliments than 
 as a statement of actual grievances; for Sir Christopher 
 had evidently been extremely liberal, and as soon as 
 these good people discovered that the interloper might 
 be spoken well of without offence, they all with one 
 consent began to extol his generosity. Now, it was 
 true that Norma had heard something about Sir Chris- 
 topher's ambition to represent a constituency in which 
 the voters were mainly agricultural, and she had also 
 heard more than once that he was a man who did not 
 spend money heedlessly; but w'hatever his motives 
 might be, it was something to be thankful for that the 
 poor would be taken care of under his sway, and she 
 did not grudge him any praise that he might receive 
 either in that quarter or elsewhere. 
 
 By Mrs. Wilton, as a matter of course, he was 
 praised in the highest terms; and as for Madge, she
 
 20O MISS SHAFTO. 
 
 said very little about him, which was as much as could 
 be hoped for. Madge was very busy, and, to all ap- 
 pearance, very happy. There had been a great piece 
 of work to get her trousseau ready in time; but now 
 all the frocks had arrived and were a source of un- 
 mixed delight to her. Sir Christopher rode over daily, 
 but showed himself in no way exacting, and was, as 
 she always said, "very kind." 
 
 When Norma and she were together there was 
 plenty of matter for conversation as regarded the de- 
 coration of the church, the attire of the bridesmaids, 
 the disposition of the guests at the wedding-breakfast, 
 and so forth, and this was a relief to the former, who 
 was rather in dread lest embarrassing questions should 
 be put to her or indiscreet confidences reposed in her. 
 It is quite probable that Madge was aware of this ap- 
 prehension, and that she had sensibly made up her 
 mind neither to say nor do anything to justify it; but 
 Madge often changed her mind, besides being at all 
 times liable to be swayed by chance moods or emotions; 
 and so it came to pass that on the eve of her wedding- 
 day she suddenly asked what Norma had been expect- 
 ing her to ask at any moment during the previous 
 week. 
 
 "Have you seen or heard anything of Lord Walter 
 Sinclair?" she inquired. 
 
 Norma could only reply in the affirmative. "He has 
 gone abroad," she said; "he called on us as he passed 
 through Folkestone." 
 
 "Ah, that must have been just after he left Scotland. 
 Did he say anything about me?" 
 
 "He mentioned you, of course."
 
 HAPPY SIR CHRISTOPHER. 20I 
 
 "Why, of course? But as he did mention me, I 
 suppose he had nothing very pleasant to say about 
 me." 
 
 "He told me that he had proposed to you and that 
 you had refused him," Norma thought it best to answer 
 candidly; "but I am not going to repeat all that he 
 said, and I don't see why you should be interested in 
 hearing it." 
 
 "Not interested! My dear Norma, as if anybody 
 wouldn't be interested in hearing what a man whom 
 she had refused said about her afterwards! I believe 
 even you yourself would be. Still, if you don't choose 
 to tell me what he said, I can easily guess. He was 
 very unjust and very selfish, I thought. He chose to 
 take it for granted that I was doing what I am going 
 to do simply for my own gratification; although he 
 might have known — and, for the matter of that, I told 
 him However, I don't care what he thinks." 
 
 "I hope you don't," said Norma gravely; "you cer- 
 tainly ought not to care." 
 
 Now, perhaps this was not the wisest speech in the 
 world to make, and Norma showed something less than 
 her usual judgment in making it. She wanted to check 
 the avowal which she saw was impending; and, instead 
 of laughing it off, which might have been done success- 
 fully, she endeavoured to rouse the pride of one whose 
 share of that quality happened to be infinitesimal. The 
 consequence was that Madge at once melted into tears 
 and reproaches. 
 
 "I did not think you would be so hard to me, 
 Nomia," she sobbed. "Everbody else is hard; I know
 
 202 MISS SHAFTO. 
 
 what I have to expect from everybody else. But I 
 thought yo7i would understand." 
 
 So the old story was repeated once more. Her 
 mother had urged and worried her; her sisters had 
 preached at her; she knew that her life would have 
 been made unendurable if she had not yielded to their 
 wishes. It was all true enough, and Norma was aware 
 that it was true. Madge would unquestionably have 
 had to face a bad time if she had rejected Sir Chris- 
 topher; but then she might have rejected him and faced 
 the bad time, and she had not done so. It would be 
 much kinder to rebuke her now than to sympathize 
 with her. Yet it was not very easy to help sympathiz- 
 ing with her. She seemed so innocent in her selfish- 
 ness, so unconscious of having wronged anybody; and 
 there was something in her utter loneliness, too, which 
 was pathetic. And so it came about that before very 
 long Norma found herself soothing and condoling with 
 her friend, who was now crying hysterically, and who 
 had allowed some broken ejaculations to escape be- 
 tween her sobs which would have been better left un- 
 uttered. 
 
 "Madge," Norma said at last, "this will never do. 
 If you don't love Sir Christopher " 
 
 Madge broke into a wild laugh. "Love him! Could 
 anybody love Sir Christopher?" 
 
 "Perhaps; how can one tell? But if you don't — 
 still more if you love somebody else — you have no 
 right to marry him. It isn't too late yet " 
 
 "Not too late?" interrupted Madge — and somehow 
 or other the suggestion had a wonderfully tonic effect 
 upon her, so that she at once sat up and began to dry
 
 HAPPY SIR CHRISTOPHER. 203 
 
 her eyes. "What! after the wedding-cake has been 
 sent and the banns called and everything? Of course 
 it is weeks and weeks too late! Now, Norma, you must 
 forget all the nonsense that I have been talking. I was 
 excited, and I wanted to have a cry, and I've had it, 
 and I'm all right again. As for being in love with 
 one's husband, why, you don't suppose that Edith was 
 in love with that horrid old Huddersfield, or Constance 
 with Dick Lacy, do you? and yet they wouldn't change 
 places with any woman of their acquaintance; they have 
 both told me so. And, Norma, there's another thing. 
 You are not to imagine, please, that I am the least bit 
 in love Avith Lord Walter Sinclair. I liked him very 
 much as long as he was nice, and I didn't like him 
 when he turned nasty — that's all. You are very wel- 
 come to tell him so from me, if he should ever ask you 
 about it." 
 
 Norma could not quite believe this statement. She 
 had seen more in London than Madge was aware of, 
 and indeed the girl's manner was hardly of a nature to 
 carry conviction with it. Yet what could be done? It 
 was evidently impossible to stop the marriage. There 
 was nothing for it but to accept the inevitable and hope 
 for the best. After all, it did not seem unduly san- 
 guine to hope that Madge might be as happy as her 
 sisters. 
 
 The wedding, which was solemnized on the follow- 
 ing morning at Brampton Church, was in all respects 
 the smartest that the county had seen for many a long 
 day. The bride, whose dress was a triumph of millinery 
 and whose splendid diamonds (the gift of the bride- 
 groom) excited the envy of all feminine beholders, was
 
 204 MISS SHAFTO. 
 
 a little pale, as all brides ought to be, but maintained 
 her composure admirably, and said what she had to 
 say in a clear, audible voice. The bridegroom was 
 suffused with smiles and looked like a fool, as perhaps 
 all bridegrooms are apt to do. As for the bridesmaids, 
 Mr. Basil Morley, who was present and who was an 
 authority upon such points, declared that the basis of 
 pale and dark blue out of w'hich their charming costumes 
 had been evolved was thoroughly artistic and that he 
 did not remember ever to have seen Miss Shafto look 
 more beautiful. "Although," he added, "Miss Shafto 
 would look beautiful in sackcloth." 
 
 Lord Huddersfield thought the bridesmaids' frocks 
 ugly, and said so; but Lord Huddersfield was a very 
 cross old man, and he had had rather a long drive 
 from Warbury Park, which house had been placed at 
 his disposal by the absent Lord Loddondale, and he 
 was not at all sure that he hadn't caught a cold in his 
 head. Lady Huddersfield, a very handsome woman, 
 well knouTi in the fashionable world, w-as pleased to 
 express approval of the proceedings generally, and said 
 a few kind w-ords to her sister; but she would not stay 
 for the breakfast, explaining that they always had mut- 
 ton chops and boiled potatoes for luncheon, and that, 
 since these delicacies were not forthcoming, she thought 
 they had better get back to Warbury as quickly as 
 possible. 
 
 Most people will agree with Lady Huddersfield in 
 disliking wedding-breakfasts, and in these days the 
 people who are married in London very generally con- 
 trive to dispense with them; but in the country this is 
 less easily managed. Mrs. Wilton, therefore, had pro-
 
 HAPPY SIR CHRISTOPHER. 205 
 
 vided her friends and neighbours with a feast of the 
 old-fashioned kind, which was duly graced by the pre- 
 sence of the bride and bridegroom. In the absence of 
 any better-qualified person, Mr. Shafto proposed the 
 health of the happy pair in felicitous terms; Sir Chris- 
 topher responded jovially, and then Mr. Morley sud- 
 denly rose to his feet with some fell intent which he 
 was precluded from carrying into execution, for, chance 
 or design having placed him next to Miss Travers, he 
 was at once gripped and forced back into his seat by 
 that stalwart lady, who told him that if he didn't shut 
 up, she would wring his neck. Then the bride with- 
 drew to change her dress and take a fond farewell of 
 her mother, half an hour after which she reappeared, 
 exquisitely arrayed in fawn-colour, trimmed with silver 
 fox, and stepped lightly into the brougham which was 
 waiting for her. There were no tears and not many 
 embracings or last words. 
 
 "Which is quite as it should be," observed Mr. 
 Shafto, rubbing his hands. "I never could see why 
 people should want to turn a wedding into a funeral." 
 
 As the carriage drove away. Norma stood on the 
 steps, gazing after it a little wistfully. By her way of 
 thinking, there are many weddings which are far sadder 
 than funerals. After death comes at least rest, one 
 may hope. It is as impossible to doubt this in the case 
 of our own dead as it is to help foreseeing the pos- 
 sibihty of misfortune for such of our friends as are 
 still living, and although some loveless marriages turn 
 out, or seem to turn out, satisfactorily, one can scarcely 
 suppose that the generality do. Therefore Norma looked 
 pensively after the retreating brougham until her medi-
 
 206 MISS SHAFTO. 
 
 lations were interrupted by the voice of the sententious 
 Morley, who said — 
 
 "Don't you know, Miss Shafto, that it is very un- 
 lucky to watch people out of sight?" 
 
 "Well," answered Norma, wheeling round abruptly, 
 "they are not out of sight yet, so I trust I shall have 
 brought no misfortune upon them." 
 
 "That," remarked Mr. Morley, "is likely enough to 
 overtake them, I should say, without help from anybody. 
 I myself, as I need hardly tell you, am no believer in 
 superstitions of any kind, but I occasionally venture to 
 make predictions which are grounded upon something 
 more solid. Upon observation of human character and 
 conduct, in short." 
 
 "Really?" said Norma. "But perhaps you are 
 sometimes mistaken; and if you have any disagreeable 
 prediction to make about Madge, I Avould rather you 
 didn't make it to me." 
 
 "Then I will not say what I Avas going to say," re- 
 turned the poet imperturbably. "Miss Wilton never 
 interested me particularly; Lady Shearman, I confess, 
 does." 
 
 And doubtless he would have explained wliy Lady 
 Shearman was so favoured, had he not at this juncture 
 been interrupted by a rude person who made it a prac- 
 tice to interrupt him as often as she could. 
 
 "Now, Mr. Morley," said Nell Travers, bustling out 
 of the house, "suppose you make yourself useful for 
 once. Just run to the stables and see whether my 
 dog-cart is ready, will you? And if it is, you can drive 
 it round for me. Don't let the mare bolt with you, 
 though."
 
 HAPPY SIR CHRISTO['HER. 207 
 
 Mr. Morley looked as if he did not half like the 
 
 commission. "Perhaps one of the servants " he 
 
 began. 
 
 "My good man, I can't get them to attend to me; 
 so it isn't likely that you'll get them to attend to you. 
 Don't waste time, please; I want to be off." 
 
 "You will make the poor fellow break his neck," 
 said Norma reproachfully, as Mr. Morley retired with 
 reluctant steps. 
 
 "No fear! In the first place, nothing would induce 
 him to drive the mare, and in the second, nothing 
 would induce me to let him attempt it. He'll find my 
 groom in the stable-yard all right. Don't you be anxious 
 and troubled about your friends, Norma. They can 
 take precious good care of themselves, you'll find, and 
 they know very well what they're about." 
 
 "Do you think so?" asked Norma, smiling. 
 
 "I'm as sure of it as I am that Sir Christopher has 
 got a pretty wife, that Madge has got an adoring hus- 
 band, that Mrs. Wilton has secured another rich son-in- 
 law, and that everybody is satisfied all round." 
 
 And Miss Travers's dog-cart dashing up to the door 
 at this moment, she climbed into it, waved a farewell 
 to Norma, and drove off at a smart trot. 
 
 Mr. Morley, who had returned, composedly picked 
 up the thread of his discourse where he had dropped 
 it. "Lady Shearman," said he, "becomes interesting 
 from to-day. Hitherto she has been under the influence 
 of her mother, and it has been easy to guess how she 
 would act under any given circumstances; henceforth 
 she will be under the nominal control of a man whom 
 she neither loves nor fears as yet, and what she will
 
 208 MISS SHAFTO. 
 
 develope into is quite uncertain, I shall watch her 
 career with curiosity." 
 
 "I see Mrs. Morley making signs to you," said 
 Norma, not caring to prolong the conversation. 
 
 Basil Morley was pompous and silly enough; yet 
 she could not help feeling that his comments upon the 
 situation were more to the point than those of the good- 
 humoured Nell Travers.
 
 LORD LODDONDALE MAKES A SUGGESTION. 2og 
 
 CHAPTER XVIII. 
 LORD LODDONDALE MAKES A SUGGESTION. 
 
 Nowadays it is not usual for any girl to grow up 
 to womanhood without having once quitted her native 
 shores; and if young people are still as light-hearted 
 and as easily amused as they always were (which seems 
 probable, notwithstanding some loud assertions to the 
 contrary), yet it cannot be denied that the delightful 
 sensation of living under conditions of absolute novelty 
 must, before they have been twenty years in the world, 
 be no longer possible to the majority of them. But 
 Norma's lot had been an exceptional one. Her father, 
 always an optimist, had been perfectly satisfied with his 
 daily avocations and diversions at Brampton until the 
 fall in the value of land began to make him restless, 
 nor had he ever cared to leave home, except on an 
 occasional visit to a friend or for a run up to London. 
 Consequently, when this pair set off in the late autumn 
 on their way towards Italy, Norma enjoyed thoroughly 
 every step of the journey; and, for the matter of that, 
 Mr. Shafto enjoyed it as much as she did. They did 
 not hurry themselves, having no occasion to do so, but 
 actually halted at Boulogne and Amiens on their way 
 to Paris, in which latter city they spent ten days of un- 
 mixed pleasure, seeing all the sights, prowling round 
 the brilliantly lighted Palais Royal after nightfall, dining 
 
 A/iss Shafto. I. 1 4
 
 2IO MISS SHAFTO. 
 
 at the various restaurants of which a hst had been 
 handed to Mr. Shafto by the knowing Lammergeier, 
 and visiting such of the theatres as had been pronounced 
 by that authority to be convenables. Mr. Shafto was 
 very particular in his inquiries upon that point, and it 
 may be hoped that Baron Lammergeier made a scru- 
 pulous selection; but perhaps it wouldn't have mat- 
 tered very much if he had not, for, to tell the truth, 
 neither Norma nor her father were first-rate French 
 scholars. 
 
 It was a joyous time, and Norma often looked back 
 upon it afterwards with a pain at her heart. She and 
 her father had always been the best of friends; but lat- 
 terly they had not seen a great deal of one another, and 
 he had often been worried and absent-minded, seeming 
 as if he had troubles which he would like to talk about 
 (for it was his nature to talk about his troubles), yet 
 resenting any leading questions that might be put to 
 him. Now, however, all these cares had evidently been 
 left behind in England, and Mr. Shafto's chief thought 
 was how he might best please his daughter. To be 
 sure, that was not a difficult matter, and there was no 
 need for him to buy jewellery for her in the Rue de 
 la Paix in order to accomplish his end; still the jewel- 
 lery was pretty, and it pleased him to see her wearing 
 it, and it pleased him even more to find that her tastes 
 and wishes coincided in all things with his own. 
 
 "It's wonderful how well we get on together, 
 Norma!" he exclaimed one evening, beaming at her 
 across the little table at which they were dining. "An 
 old fellow hke me and a young girl like you — nobody 
 would believe it. 'Crabbed age and youth,' you know.
 
 LORD LODDONDALE MAKES A SUGGESTION, 2 I I 
 
 But, after all, why should age be crabbed? I don't 
 know why that should be taken for granted." 
 
 No doubt he gave himself the larger share of credit 
 for the happy state of things to which he alhided; but 
 if he did, it was not by Norma that he was in any 
 danger of being contradicted. 
 
 "Certainly you are not crabbed," she answered; 
 "but then I never think of you as being old, somehow. 
 In many ways you seem to me to be younger than I 
 am." 
 
 Mr. Shafto laughed, not ill-pleased by the compli- 
 ment; but he pretended to be vexed. "Younger than 
 you indeed! What impudence! I suppose you mean 
 that I am more foolish and more easily taken in. Now, 
 I know very well that is what you think, Norma; but if 
 you will just wait a little bit and judge by results, you 
 may perhaps alter your opinion." 
 
 Well, it was an opportunity; but she had not the 
 heart to take advantage of it. Mrs. Lammergeier might 
 talk of her influence over her father; but would any 
 father stand being told by his daughter that he was too 
 rash in money matters? Besides, she hoped that, for 
 the present at any rate, he was giving himself a holi- 
 day. 
 
 From Paris the travellers proceeded slowly south- 
 wards by way of Dijon, Avignon, Marseilles, Cannes, 
 and Nice, pausing at all these places and making friends 
 everywhere. Mr. Shafto never denied himself the amuse- 
 ment of entering into conversation with his fellow-wan- 
 derers. He did not know what a dangerous practice 
 this is (for how can you tell whether somebody to whom 
 you have addressed a few civil words at a lable d'hote
 
 2 12 MISS SHAFTO. 
 
 may not turn up afterwards in London and claim ac- 
 quaintance with you and give no end of trouble?). Or 
 perhaps he did know it and didn't care; because there 
 never lived a less calculating man. 
 
 So in the natural course of things, Monte Carlo was 
 reached one fine December evening; and, being in such 
 a place, it was of course desirable to take a cursory 
 glance at those discreditable scenes which have so often 
 been described in the newspapers. "Not that I believe 
 all the stories one hears about suicides and other tra- 
 gedies," Mr. Shafto said, as he entered the Casino with 
 his daughter. "Very much exaggerated, no doubt, and 
 perhaps inventions of interested persons, as I was as- 
 sured at Nice." 
 
 At any rate, there was nothing very tragic in the 
 aspect of the assemblage in the gaming-rooms. It was 
 a large assemblage, and it consisted for the most part 
 of people who were playing either regularly or inter- 
 mittently; but none of them appeared to be in a mood 
 for self-destruction, nor did any very large sums of 
 money seem to be changing hands. 
 
 "I suppose," observed Mr. Shafto, after a time, 
 "one ought just to be able to say that one has staked 
 a trifle." 
 
 Accordingly he fumbled in his waistcoat-pocket, 
 produced a coin, and laid it down upon Impair, whence 
 it was presently swept away by the rake of the croupier. 
 Not quite liking this, he repeated the stake, and was 
 awaiting the result of his second venture with some 
 interest, when Norma was accosted by a rather loudly 
 dressed gentleman with reddish hair and sharp little 
 eyes.
 
 LORD LODDONDALE MAKES A SUGGESTION. 2 I 3 
 
 "Miss Shafto!" he exclaimed. "Fancy your being 
 here!" 
 
 "How do you do, Lord Loddondale? Ought I not 
 to be here?" asked Norma, laughing. 
 
 "Well, I won't go so far as to say that. Every- 
 body comes here, of course. Only it isn't exactly the 
 sort of place where one would have expected to see 
 you." 
 
 "But I assure you I am only a spectator, and I am 
 going away presently, and I disapprove of gambling 
 quite as much as you can." 
 
 "Oh, I don't disapprove of gambling; and if I did, 
 I dare say I should gamble all the same, because I'm 
 an awful profligate, as every old woman in London will 
 tell you. It isn't that — it's the company. I mean, if 
 I had sisters of my own, I shouldn't care to have them 
 mixing in a crowd like this," explained Lord Loddon- 
 dale, who, hke many men of his type, had very strict 
 notions as to what ladies ought and ought not to do. 
 
 And now Mr. Shafto, having won sixty francs, 
 turned round and became aware that his daughter 
 was engaged in conversation with a sporting-looking 
 stranger; whereupon Lord Loddondale reminded the 
 old gentleman that they had met before, and expressed 
 his great satisfaction at this opportunity of renewing 
 acquaintance with a valued friend of his father's. For 
 some reason or other, this young magnate of the turf, 
 whose bad manners were notorious, seemed anxious 
 upon the present occasion to make himself very agree- 
 able. He accompanied Mr. and Miss Shafto as far as 
 iheir hotel; he chatted pleasantly as he walked beside 
 them in the bright moonlight; he asked whether he
 
 2 14 ^"SS SHAFTO. 
 
 might be allowed to call, and expressed a hope 
 that they would not hurry away from Monte Carlo, 
 "which is really out and out the most charming place 
 on the Riviera. Beats everything else hollow in point 
 of climate; and there's always plenty of first-rate music 
 too for those who like it. I dare say Miss Shafto likes 
 music." 
 
 Miss Shafto admitted that she did. "But Lord 
 Loddondale was telling me just now that he doesn't at 
 all approve of my being here," she remarked. 
 
 "Oh, that was in the gambling-rooms. I beg your 
 pardon; I didn't mean to be impertinent; but it's true 
 that I think ladies are better out of that place. They 
 can amuse themselves very well at Monte Carlo without 
 going near it." 
 
 "I'm quite of your opinion," agreed Mr. Shafto 
 heartily; "one shouldn't countenance that kind of thing. 
 The propensity for gambling is one of the strongest 
 passions in human nature, and of course it's a bad 
 passion, and it ought not to be fostered. I am alto- 
 gether opposed to legalized gambling; though I know 
 there are arguments which may be brought forward in 
 favour of it." 
 
 Lord Loddondale did not know enough about Mr. 
 Shafto to be amused by this declaration of principle; 
 but Ml-. Shafto knew enough about Lord Loddondale to 
 be much gratified by the latter's civility. 
 
 "Now doesn't that show," he exclaimed to Norma, 
 when they had taken leave of their escort, "how care- 
 ful one ought to be about judging one's neighbours by 
 hearsay! I have heard the worst possible reports of 
 that young man; yet I'm bound to say that a more 

 
 LORD LODDONDALE MAKES A SUGGESTION. 2 I 5 
 
 pleasant and gentlemanlike fellow I never met. He 
 isn't as good-looking as his brother; but he seems to 
 me to be much more simple and straightforward." 
 
 A good many persons connected with the turf would 
 have said that straightforwardness was not Lord Lod- 
 dondale's most conspicuous quality, and it is a fact that 
 he considered himself fully entitled to mystify those 
 whom he suspected of trying to get the better of him; 
 but in the ordinary relations of life he was plain and 
 outspoken enough, as Norma discovered no later than 
 on the ensuing morning. 
 
 She woke early, with the warm sunshine streaming 
 through her open window, and having got up and 
 dressed herself, went out for a walk before breakfast. 
 She wandered slowly along the terraces and through 
 the well-kept gardens, drinking in the balmy air and 
 marvelling at the exquisite, soft hues of sea and shore. 
 The Riviera has been terribly disfigured no doubt, but 
 the climate and the colouring and the outline of the 
 hills remain unalterable. Besides, Norma was not in a 
 position to draw comparisons, not having seen that 
 lovely region in the pre-railway era. She seated her- 
 self upon a bench and gazed at it all, and was satis- 
 fied, experiencing that sensation of pleasure in the mere 
 fact of being alive which is scarcely attainable in more 
 northern latitudes. And being in so happy a mood, 
 she was not annoyed when Lord Loddondale, clad in 
 an aggressive check suit, suddenly interposed his person 
 between her and the prospect, but was only very much 
 surprised to see him out of doors at that hour. 
 
 "Are you always such an early riser?" she asked 
 him, after returning his salutation.
 
 2 I 6 MISS SHAFTO. 
 
 "Well, yes," he answered; "I am as a rule. I don't 
 care about lying in bed after I'm awake, and there's a 
 good deal in habit, you see. What with cub-hunting 
 and duck-shooting and one thing and another, I've got 
 into the way of doing with less sleep than most men." 
 
 A short pause followed; after which Norm said, 
 "Isn't it a divine morning?" 
 
 Lord Loddondale had seated himself upon the low 
 wall facing her and was swinging one of his legs. "Aw- 
 fully jolly," he responded rather absently; and then, 
 "Shall you stay here long, do you suppose?" 
 
 "Oh no; we are going on to San Remo this after- 
 noon." 
 
 "Really? I'm very sorry we are to lose you so 
 soon; but, as you're going, I'm glad I chanced to meet 
 you this morning, because there are one or two things 
 that I rather want to say to you. You're bound for 
 Rome, your father told me." 
 
 "Yes, eventually. Is there any chance of your 
 coming on so far?" 
 
 Lord Loddondale shook his head. "Not likely. I 
 shan't begin hunting till after Christmas this season; 
 but that don't give me much time to spare, you see. 
 However, you'll meet Walter there. I dare say you've 
 heard that he has set up his stone-breaking shop at 
 Rome for the winter. I don't see why a man should 
 do better statues in Italy than in England; but perhaps, 
 under the circumstances, it's just as well that he should 
 have a little bit of a change, eh?" 
 
 Lord Loddondale looked keenly at Norma as he 
 made this observation, and she laughed, which appeared 
 to please him.
 
 LORD LODDONDALE MAKES A SUGGESTION. 21"] 
 
 "Ah," said he, "I see you know all about it, and 
 that's quite the right view to take of it. It's the view 
 I take myself. It's a thing to be laughed at; it never 
 was serious from the first." 
 
 "I think it was very serious to him," Norma said. 
 
 "Oh, he fancied so — naturally. One always does. 
 But you know as well as I do, and a great deal better 
 perhaps, that the girl had nothing except her beauty — 
 and none too much of that. Walter isn't the sort of 
 man to live happily with a wife who has only looks; 
 and so, in my opinion, he's deuced well — I mean un- 
 commonly well out of it. I shouldn't wonder if that 
 was his opinion too by this time." 
 
 All this was not a little surprising to Norma, who 
 had not supposed that Lord Loddondale took so kindly 
 an interest in his younger brother. She liked him all 
 the better for it, though she scarcely knew what reply 
 to make. "Lord Walter was staying with you when — 
 when he had his disappointment, was he not?" she 
 asked at length. 
 
 "Yes; he came for a couple of nights. Rather 
 ridiculous, you know. Of course the other fellows who 
 were shooting with me guessed what had happened, 
 though I made up a yarn about his having been sud- 
 denly called away. But what I wanted to say to you. 
 Miss Shafto, was that I hope you won't think the worse 
 of poor Walter for having made an ass of himself in 
 this way. It isn't so very extraordinary, you know, that 
 a man should be fascinated for a time by a little flirt; 
 it's what we're all liable to. But as for his having been 
 really in love with her — don't you believe it I" 
 
 "But I do beheve it, and I don't think at all the
 
 2 lis Miss SHAFTO. 
 
 worse of him for it," said Norma wonderingly. "Why 
 should I?" 
 
 Lord Loddondale made an impatient movement. 
 "Oh, well," he said, "perhaps I express myself badly; 
 I'm not much accustomed to this sort of thing. I had 
 better say straight out what I mean, and then if you're 
 affronted it can't be helped. But I'm sure you won't 
 take offence where none is intended. The long and 
 the short of it is, Miss Shafto, that that little Wilton 
 girl wasn't in any way suited to Walter, and that you 
 are. Exactly suited to him, I should say. I won't 
 swear that he's good enough for you; but he really is 
 a good fellow, and always has been. Nobody can call 
 him a muff — I don't know many better shots than 
 Walter — but he has never broken loose and played Old 
 Harry all round, as I have. He's clever too, and good- 
 looking. It does seem to me that you might do a great 
 deal worse." 
 
 Norma burst out laughing. Lord Loddondale's 
 suggestion was too comical to be disconcerting; and 
 although he reddened and looked annoyed at her merri- 
 ment, he admitted that his behaviour was unconven- 
 tional. 
 
 "You'll say I might let him speak for himself 
 Well, he'll do that, I expect. Of course I may be 
 mistaken; only I don't think I am. I've noticed certain 
 little things in his manner when we were talking about 
 you. But all I want to beg of you is that you won't 
 refuse to listen to him just because you happen to know 
 that he once had a fancy for somebody else. I wish 
 you wouldn't laugh; it isn't a joke." 
 
 "I have no doubt you mean to be kind, Lord Lod-
 
 LORD LODDONDALE MAKES A SUGGESTION. 2ig 
 
 dondale," answered Norma; "and I will try not to laugh 
 any more, since you don't like it. But your anxiety to 
 marry me to a man who has never shown any personal 
 anxiety in that direction does seem rather queer and 
 unaccountable." 
 
 "Not so very, if you will think of it. I'm not a 
 marrying man, and though I may live to be seventy, 
 it's more likely that I shall die comparatively young, 
 because I'm not altogether sound. I had a bad fall out 
 hunting two years ago, and I've never really got over 
 it. It wouldn't take a great deal to kill me. Well, 
 then, don't you understand that I should be glad to see 
 Walter married, and that I should like him to marry 
 the woman who, if you'll excuse my bluntness, strikes 
 me as being the very best and most charming I have 
 ever met in my life, not excepting my own mother?" 
 
 Norma looked at her companion, who presented 
 every appearance of robust health. It was a little dif- 
 ficult to believe that anxiety for the perpetuation of his 
 title could have put this whimsical notion into his head. 
 He spoke again before she had time to make any re- 
 joinder. 
 
 "I know what you're thinking, and you're quite 
 right; that isn't my only reason. Do you know. Miss 
 Shafto, I'm not such a bear as people make me out. I 
 should like very much to associate with ladies some- 
 times if I could; only I can't, because the moment that 
 I attempt it they begin trying either to marry me them- 
 selves or to marry me to somebody else. Now, you're 
 not one of that sort; and if you were my sister-in-law, 
 perhaps you would sometimes let me come and talk to 
 you — which would do me a lot of good."
 
 2 20 MISS SHAFl'O. 
 
 "But, Lord Loddondale," said Norma, "you are 
 most welcome to come and talk to me as often as you 
 like, though I am not your sister-in-law." 
 
 "Thanks; it's awfully good of you to say that. But 
 I'm afraid it wouldn't be quite the same thing, would 
 it? And then again, I should like to serve Walter a 
 good turn. As I told you once before, I have done him 
 out of his inheritance, and now he won't take anything 
 from me; but if he were a married man, I think he 
 would see that the case was altered. When I spoke to 
 him about an allowance, I said a thousand a year; but 
 I could easily make it a good deal more than that. 
 Do think it over. Of course I don't expect you to 
 promise that you'll take him if he asks you, or anything 
 of that sort; only you might just bear in mind that he 
 won't be a poor man. You might have Warbury rent free, 
 and I should be only too pleased if you would keep the 
 house aired for me; because I shall never live there myself. 
 And as for that silly affair about Miss Wilton " 
 
 But here Lord Loddondale's eloquence was cut 
 short by the appearance of Mr. Shafto, who had come 
 out in search of his daughter, and who was disposed 
 to be a shade less amiable and talkative than on the 
 previous evening, not having yet had his breakfast. 
 
 Lord Loddondale was begged to join his friends at 
 that repast, but excused himself upon the plea of a 
 previous engagement, adding that, as he was going to 
 shoot pigeons that afternoon, he was afraid he would 
 not be able to see them off at the station. So presently 
 he took his leave, with a parting glance at Norma 
 which recalled the last injunction of Charles the First 
 to Bishop Juxon.
 
 MADGES HUSBAND. 221 
 
 CHAPTER XIX. 
 
 Madge's husband. 
 
 It has been asserted by some that the entire devo- 
 tion of any man, be he who he may, is never dis- 
 agreeable to any woman. This is perhaps putting the 
 case too strongly, but one may at least hope that when 
 the woman has gone the length of marrying the man, 
 she prefers adoration on his part to neglect. Madge, 
 at all events during the early days of her married life, 
 found it quite pleasant to be worshipped by Sir 
 Christopher Shearman, and liked him a great deal 
 better than she had ever imagined it possible that she 
 could. It was an altogether new sensation to her to 
 be anticipated in every wish and to be treated as though 
 her comfort were the only thing in the world worthy 
 of consideration. She had one of those natures which 
 are called affectionate (a term not necessarily implying 
 any great readiness to make sacrifices for the sake of 
 affection), she was fond of people who were kind to her, 
 and it seemed quite possible that she might end by 
 becoming fond of Sir Christopher. 
 
 The newly married couple went to the Lakes to 
 spend the honeymoon, and got on wonderfully well while 
 the fine weather lasted. They visited Windermere and 
 Coniston and UUeswater, and, the season being so far 
 advanced, were not much plagued by tourists. They
 
 222 MISS SHAFTO. 
 
 were neither of them people who cared very much for 
 scenery; yet after their fashion they enjoyed the shifting 
 Hghts and shades upon the hill-sides and the brilliant 
 autumn tints upon the trees, and every day Sir Chris- 
 topher took his wife out in a boat and taught her how 
 to use an oar, expressing the greatest surprise and ad- 
 miration at her proficiency. 
 
 It was not very exciting; but somehow or other 
 the hours were filled up, and Lady Shearman, -writing 
 at this time to her friend Miss Shafto, stated in so many 
 words that she was "as happy as possible." 
 
 But at Keswick, alas! it began to rain; and then it 
 was that the dreadful danger of wedding journeys and 
 the wisdom of those who set their faces against them 
 became apparent. Now, every one will allow that to 
 be shut up in an English hotel, with nothing to do ex- 
 cept to watch the drops running down the window 
 panes and rap a falling barometer, is much worse for 
 a man than it is for a woman. Women can write 
 letters to their friends or busy themselves Avith fancy- 
 work; but what is to become of a man who doesn't 
 like reading and who has already exhausted the news- 
 papers? Therefore it was clearly Madge's duty to try 
 and cheer up her husband, instead of growing cross and 
 petulant and declaring outright that she was bored to 
 death. 
 
 Sir Christopher was not a good-tempered man; 
 moreover, unless he had some amount of exercise every 
 day his liver got out of order; so, when her ladyship 
 made this rather unkind speech, he swore loudly at 
 the weather — a thing which he certainly ought not to 
 have done in her presense, though the circumstances
 
 MADGES HUSBAND. 2 23 
 
 were enough to excuse a bishop for forgetting himself. 
 Madge chose to take his behaviour in very ill part, and 
 turned her back upon him; whereupon he flung out of 
 the room, muttering in his beard, and did not show 
 himself again for several hours. 
 
 It was only an absurd little tiff, such as might have 
 occurred between any married couple, and it was 
 speedily followed by a reconciliation. Sir Christopher 
 begging pardon very humbly and calling himself a brute. 
 Still it served as a warning that the present situation 
 was fraught with peril; so, after dinner that evening, 
 while her husband, somewhat comforted by a bottle of 
 champagne, was smoking before the fire, Madge pro- 
 posed a change of scene. 
 
 "I don't hke this place," she said. "Don't you 
 think we might make a move?" 
 
 "It's a beastly hole," agreed Sir Christopher 
 gloomily; "but I don't know that one of the others 
 mightn't be beastlier, and we can't go home yet, because 
 the house isn't ready to receive us." 
 
 "But couldn't we try another part of the country? 
 Harrogate, for instance, or Buxton. At least there 
 would be a band there, and perhaps a club, where you 
 might meet somebody whom you knew." 
 
 Sir Christopher jumped at the suggestion and rang 
 the bell at once to give the necessary instructions. 
 Not, he was careful to explain, that he cared a straw 
 about a club or about meeting fellows whom he knew. 
 His wife's company was all that he wanted. 
 
 "Well," returned Madge, laughing, "I am flattered 
 by your saying so; but, at the risk of being thought 
 rude, I must confess that in such weather as this I
 
 2 24 ^^^SS SHAFTO. 
 
 should like nothing better than to come across an ac- 
 quaintance." 
 
 And it so fell out that she obtained her wish; for 
 when, on the succeeding day, they reached the hotel 
 at Buxton, which place they had decided upon in pre- 
 ference to Harrogate, who should accost Madge but her 
 cousin Mrs. Langley, who, it may be remembered, had 
 once given Lord Walter a cup of tea and an oppor- 
 tunity. Mrs. Langley's presence at Buxton was ac- 
 counted for by the circumstance that she had a gouty 
 husband. He limped out presently and joined the 
 group — a fat, good-humoured httle man, who accepted 
 his chronic ailment philosophically and managed to 
 amuse himself in spite of it. With Sir Christopher he 
 had already a slight acquaintance, and he was delighted 
 to see his wife's pretty little cousin, having a strong 
 predilection for pretty people. 
 
 "Buxton isn't half a bad place," he told her. "Do 
 you want to be left to yourselves? Or shall we take 
 you about and try to make things as lively as we can 
 for you?" 
 
 "Oh, we don't want to be left to ourselves," an- 
 swered Madge, with a promptitude which made both 
 Mr. and Mrs. Langley laugh. 
 
 The next day was fine, and the Langley s redeemed 
 their promise. They knew everybody whom it was 
 desirable to know among the visitors and patients; they 
 introduced the new arrivals to these; some short ex- 
 peditions were planned and carried out, and for a 
 couple of days Lady Shearman had a very pleasant 
 time of it. Then a curious thing came to pass. Sir 
 Christopher had evidently not participated in his wife's
 
 Madge's husband. 225 
 
 enjoyment. He had been silent and sullen, and had 
 even made one or two snappish little speeches to Mrs. 
 Langley; but Madge had attached no importance to 
 these symptoms, knowing that Sir Christopher was 
 often rude to people whom he did not happen to fancy. 
 On the third evening, however, when they had gone 
 upstairs to their sitting-room, after dining with the 
 Langleys, he astonished her by breaking out, without 
 any preface, into a torrent of reproaches. 
 
 "If this is the sort of thing that I'm to expect, I've a 
 nice sort of life before me! Considering that we haven't 
 been married a month yet, I should have thought you 
 might have managed to tolerate my society for a part 
 of the day at least; but it seems that anybody suits 
 you better than your own husband. You are with 
 these people morning, noon and night. I wonder it 
 doesn't strike you that perhaps they may get tired of 
 you, though apparently you can't get tired of them." 
 
 "Surely," exclaimed Madge, half laughing, half 
 frightened (for in truth Sir Christopher looked very 
 fierce), "you can't be jealous of poor fiit little Mr. 
 Langley!" 
 
 "Of course not; I never said anything about jeal- 
 ousy. I simply state a fact — which you can't deny." 
 
 Yet he really was jealous — not of Mr. Langley 
 more than of Mrs. Langley, but of any one, without 
 regard to sex, who drew his wife's attention away from 
 himself. Ridiculous as this was, a magnanimous woman 
 might have pardoned it, recognizing it as being what it 
 was in truth, evidence of a love which had completely 
 overmastered such reason and self-control as the poor 
 man possessed. But to Madge it was simply ridiculous. 
 
 A/iss Shaffo. /. 15
 
 2 26 MISS SHAFTO. 
 
 Sir Christopher made her understand what he meant, 
 and she despised him for his folly. Some sharp words 
 passed between them; after which he bounced out of 
 the room, as he had done at Keswick, banging the 
 door behind him. 
 
 Towards ten o'clock Mrs. Langley put in her head, 
 and having received permission to enter, came and 
 seated herself by the fireside. 
 
 "Madge, my dear," said she, "you have been quar- 
 relling with your husband; and that is a very silly 
 thing to do." 
 
 "How do you know?" asked Madge. 
 
 "Because he is drowning his sorrows in whisky and 
 seltzer at the bar. Now what is it all about?" 
 
 Madge, when she had a grievance, was never dis- 
 posed towards reticence. She told her cousin what had 
 occurred, and was not very merciful in her comments 
 upon Sir Christopher's conduct. "It is so idiotic and 
 so unmanly," she said. "At one moment he positively 
 almost whimpered ; though he began by looking at me 
 as if he meant to beat me." 
 
 Mrs. Langley shrugged her shoulders. "It is idiotic, 
 no doubt," she agreed. "As for its being unmanly, I 
 don't know so much about that. Men when they have 
 nothing to do with themselves always become fractious 
 and intractable. If you'll take my advice, you will 
 propose to Sir Christopher to go straight home to- 
 morrow. When he has had some shooting and cub- 
 hunting to take the nonsense out of him he'll be right 
 enough, and he won't want to be tied to your apron- 
 string all day either. But whatever you do, don't begin 
 having domestic rows. That system very seldom pays, 
 
 ( 
 
 \
 
 MADGES HUSBAND. 2 27 
 
 and in your case it would be certain to fail, because, 
 saving your presence, you have no strength of character 
 at all." 
 
 Mrs. Langley was a good-natured sort of woman 
 and by no means such a fool as she was considered to 
 be by some people. She gave her cousin a few more 
 sage counsels, the upshot of which was that when Sir 
 Christopher, already half ashamed and repentant, slunk 
 in about midnight, he was met by a smiling little 
 woman who placed a hand upon each of his shoulders 
 and said, "Christopher, shall we be friends again? I'm 
 tired of Buxton and I'm tired of the Langleys, and I 
 think it would be very nice if we were to go home at 
 once. Shall we?" 
 
 So the new tenants of Brampton Priory took pos- 
 session of their abode; and for a few Aveeks all went 
 smoothly and well. As Mrs. Langley had predicted, 
 Sir Christopher was reduced to a more amiable frame 
 of mind by open-air sports, and Madge found plenty 
 of occupation and amusement in arranging the furniture 
 and receiving the visits of the neighbours. BramjHon 
 was a fine old Elizabethan mansion, with many spacious 
 reception-rooms; and although of late years the gardens 
 and conservatories had been shorn of much of their 
 former glory by reason of the straitened circumstances 
 of the owner. Sir Christopher had supplied what was 
 lacking there with a liberal hand, besides having, with 
 his landlord's permission, made considerable additions 
 and improvements to the inner decoration of the house. 
 
 "You're very much smartened up," observed Miss 
 Travers, who drove over in a high dog-cart to pay her 
 respects to Madge shortly after the latter's installation, 
 
 15*
 
 22S MISS SHAFTO. 
 
 "but, to be frank with you, I don't much fancy these 
 alterations. Our old friends couldn't afford to live here 
 any longer, and as they had to find tenants, I suppose 
 you will do as well as anybody else; but you needn't 
 keep reminding us at every turn that you are so much 
 better off than they are. It hurts our feelings." 
 
 But not all Lady Shearman's visitors were so out- 
 spoken or so uncivil as this; nor perhaps was it the 
 case that their feelings were hurt by the contrast be- 
 tween the present and the late denizens of Brampton. 
 Riches have a definite value all the world over, and 
 people who can afford to entertain largely must be re- 
 garded as an acquisition in any county. Amongst others 
 who were so good as to express their satisfaction that 
 Lady Shearman's marriage had not severed her from 
 the neighbourhood in which her childhood had been 
 spent was Mr. Basil Morley, who called one afternoon, 
 bearing an apology from his mother. 
 
 "She is quite shut up at present with a bad cold," 
 he said; "but I did not wish to wait for her recovery 
 before offering my own humble welcome." 
 
 "Thanks; but I shouldn't have thought that any 
 sentiment of yours could possibly be humble, Mr. 
 Morley," answered Madge, who had been a good deal 
 snubbed by the supercilious Basil in days gone by. 
 
 He hastened to explain that he was in reality a 
 very modest man. Many people, he was aware, thought 
 otherwise, and it was scarcely worth while to correct 
 them; but, as a fact, no one was more conscious of 
 fallibility than he. "I often make mistakes; doubtless 
 we all do," he added, sighing. "It is lucky for us if 
 our mistakes are not of an irremediable nature. I sup-
 
 MADGES HUSBAND. 2 29 
 
 pose your — Sir Christopher doesn't spend much of his 
 time at home, does he?" 
 
 "My — Sir Christopher always comes home in time 
 to dress for dinner," answered Madge demurely. "He 
 doesn't come home to tea, because tea isn't in his line. 
 It is in yours, I know, so I'll ring and order it." 
 
 "Thank you very much," said Mr. Morley; and 
 when the tea was brought he drank it as if he enjoyed 
 it, doing full justice to the buttered toast which was 
 provided for him at the same time. Also he continued 
 his interrogations, the drift of which could not have 
 been misinterpreted by the most obtuse of women. He 
 was evidently curious to find out how the new menage 
 was getting on, and Madge amused herself by hinting 
 that she had still some unsatisfied longings, thereby 
 earning the sorrowful sympathy of her questioner. 
 
 He said, "There is nothing sadder in this sad 
 world. Lady Shearman, than the acknowledgment which 
 most of us have to make sooner or later, that our lives 
 are a failure. We are only here for a very short time, 
 and whether any future state of being is in store for 
 us is a mere matter of conjecture; so that if we have 
 to pass our present existence under conditions which 
 are distasteful to us, we can't but doubt whether it 
 would not have been better never to have been born 
 at all." 
 
 "I haven't got quite so far as that yet," remarked 
 Madge. "Have you?" 
 
 Mr. Morley passed his hand across his forehead 
 and sighed again. He was rather fond of sighing. "I 
 think," said he, "that I may possibly leave my mark 
 upon the literature of the age. If I am destined to do
 
 2^0 MISS SHAFTO, 
 
 SO, I shall not have lived altogether in vain, and upon 
 the chance of it, I am at least resigned to linger for a 
 while upon the surface of this dull planet. You will 
 agree that it is dull — at any rate, that the greater part 
 of its inhabitants are." 
 
 "I don't know the greater part of them," answered 
 Madge; "so I can't say." 
 
 "Quite so; but whether we speak of Stourshire or 
 of Europe makes very little difference, I fear, so far as 
 the proportion of intelligent to unintelligent beings is 
 concerned. Look at our good neighbours in these parts 
 — what are they? Mere cyphers, leading a purely 
 animal existence. Miss Shafto was an exception." 
 
 "Norma," said Madge, "would be an exception 
 anywhere. She is worth all the rest of us put to- 
 gether." 
 
 Mr. Morley made a little bow, as if a compliment 
 had been paid to himself. "I am glad," said he, "that 
 you appreciate one of the noblest characters that I have 
 ever studied. But Miss Shafto, unhappily, has left us, 
 and you now occupy her place." 
 
 "I am sorry to be such an unworthy substitute," 
 answered Madge; "but it can't be helped." 
 
 Then Mr. Morley assumed that winning smile which 
 had exposed him more often than he had any idea of 
 to the risk of being publicly assaulted. "My dear Lady 
 Shearman," said he, "to draw comparisons between 
 two persons so dissimilar, yet both so charming, would 
 be absurd. What I meant to imply was that, since we 
 have lost the one, we ought to be very thankful indeed 
 to have gained the other." 
 
 Before Madge could make any reply, the door was
 
 MADGES HUSBAND. 23 I 
 
 thrown open, and in marched Sir Christopher, clad in 
 cords, leather gaiters, and shooting boots. 
 
 "How do you do?" said Mr. Morley, rising languidly 
 to greet the new-comer. 
 
 "Oh — Mr. Crawley, isn't it? How are you?" re- 
 turned Sir Christopher rather gruffly. And, having 
 shaken hands, he planted himself upon the hearthrug, 
 with his coat-tails gathered up under his arms. 
 
 "I suppose," pursued Mr. Morley presently, "that 
 you have been indulging in the Englishman's usual 
 recreation of slaughter." 
 
 "I've been rabbiting, if that's what you mean," an- 
 swered Sir Christopher shortly. "Aren't we dining out 
 somewhere to-night, Madge?" 
 
 Mr. Morley took the hint. He prided himself upon 
 his readiness to take hints; and indeed, if these were 
 made sufficiently broad, he sometimes detected them. 
 He picked up his hat and stick and said he was afraid 
 he must tear himself away; but what convinced him 
 that he had produced that favourable impression upon 
 his hostess which he flattered himself that he usually 
 did produce upon those whose society he sought was 
 that Madge, in bidding him good-bye, added — 
 
 "You must look us up again, Mr. Morley. Won't 
 you come and dine some evening? Thursday next, for 
 instance?" 
 
 The truth was that the compliments and innuendoes 
 of the poet had rather pleased her. He was, of course, 
 an egregious goose; but he was entertaining in his way, 
 and her husband was very apt to fall asleep after 
 dinner. 
 
 No sooner had Mr. Morley graciously accepted this
 
 2^2 MISS SHAFTO. 
 
 invitation and retired than Sir Christopher's wrath ex- 
 ploded. "What, in the name of all that's extraordinary, 
 possessed you to ask that beast to dinner?" 
 
 "Is he a beast?" inquired Madge innocently. 
 
 "Is he a beast! Well, I suppose that's a question 
 that a woman might ask; but I'll be hanged if I be- 
 lieve there's a man in all the length and breadth of 
 England who would." 
 
 "Poor Mr. Morley! What has he done?" 
 
 "Ah, that's just what I should like to know. What 
 has he done? The fellow is so conceited he can hardly 
 stand; and yet, so far as I can make out, he has never 
 done anything since the day of his birth except eat 
 and drink and disfigure the face of creation." 
 
 "I believe he has read a great deal," said Madge; 
 "that is something." 
 
 Then, all of a sudden. Sir Christopher became 
 really angry. "Oh, very well," he returned; "if you 
 like him there's no more to be said; but I can't con- 
 gratulate you upon your taste. As you have asked 
 him to dine, he must come for this once, I suppose; 
 but I won't have him here again — mind that. I know 
 very well what brutes of that kind are after when they 
 take to dropping in at five o'clock. The amazing thing 
 to me is that you can tolerate him. It makes me feel 
 sick only to look at the fellow!" 
 
 And with that Sir Christopher stumped off to dress. 
 
 II
 
 MRS. WALTER. 2T,^ 
 
 CHAPTER XX. 
 
 MRS. WALTER. 
 
 From the outsider's point of view, there was some- 
 thing to be said for Sir Christopher Shearman. He 
 was madly in love with his wife, and his absurd jealousy 
 of any one, man or woman, whose company she showed 
 the slightest sign of preferring to his own was, after 
 all, only the exaggeration of a sentiment with which 
 we all are, or ought to be, able to sympathize. Yet it 
 must be admitted that to be married to a person of 
 Sir Christopher's temperament would be a sort of purga- 
 tory; and this was what Madge very soon found it to 
 be. That he should be jealous of Basil Morley was 
 silly and annoying; but Basil Morley might very well 
 be dispensed with for the sake of a quiet life: the 
 sacrifice would not be a heavy one. One cannot, how- 
 ever, cut one's self off from the society of all one's 
 friends, including one's own mother; and Sir Chris- 
 topher, who had been uncommonly civil to Mrs. Wilton 
 in the days of his courtship , now gave it to be under- 
 stood in so many words that he did not want to have 
 his mother-in-law "always poking about the place." 
 He suspected, it seemed, that his wife hatched plots or 
 made complaints of him when his back was turned. 
 He was for ever suspecting something; and although 
 he was ready enough to apologize and make friends
 
 2 34 ^"SS SHAFTO. 
 
 again when once he had reduced Madge to tears, that 
 did not prevent him from behaving in exactly the same 
 way on the following day. Such a system is about as 
 wise as that adopted by certain schoolmasters of accus- 
 ing boys of offences which cannot be proved against 
 them. "If I am to be flogged in any case," thinks the 
 boy, not unnaturally, "I will at least have the satis- 
 faction of deserving it." 
 
 Into this perilous condition of mind Madge was 
 rapidly drifting; but, fortunately for her, her tempta- 
 tions were few. 
 
 For the rest, she was not exactly unhappy — riches 
 and the material enjoyments which riches bring having 
 still the charm of novelty for her. Only she was a 
 good deal bored at times and puzzled how to fill up 
 the long vacant hours. Norma, she remembered, had 
 never been bored, but had, on the contrary, been always 
 busy; but then Norma had been perpetually running 
 about among the poor people. Well, she too would 
 visit the poor. It was one of the duties belonging to 
 her station, and she thought it might even be rather 
 amusing to perform it. So she visited the poor, and 
 was very well received by them. She interested herself 
 in the clothing-club and the cottage hospital and so 
 forth; also she dispensed her pocket-money freely (for 
 Sir Christopher made her a noble allowance), thereby 
 earning showers of benedictions. 
 
 "In a few weeks," wrote the rector of the parish, 
 who kept up a correspondence with Miss Shafto, "your 
 friend Lady Shearman has done more mischief in the 
 way of demoralizing our people than I could set right
 
 MRS. WALTER. 235 
 
 In a year, if it were in my power to drive her out of 
 the country to-morrow." 
 
 Madge laughed when this worthy man remonstrated 
 with her, and told him that she could not make herself 
 as hard-hearted as he was. To care for heavy, brutish 
 Hodge and his grumbling wife and his dirty children 
 as Norma cared for them was impossible to her; but 
 she liked very well to play the part of Lady Bountiful 
 and to trip into cottage after cottage, followed by a 
 powdered footman who carried a basket. 
 
 Being in the village one afternoon, engaged in 
 errands of mercy, and for once having neither footman 
 nor carriage with her, she took refuge from a passing 
 shower at the Shafto Arms. Mr. Green, the bald-headed 
 landlord, came bustling out from behind the bar, bow- 
 ing low over his folded hands. Would her ladyship 
 please to step into the parlour? 
 
 "We've bin obliged to give up our parlour to my 
 niece Mrs. Walter, as has come down to stay with us 
 in a very poor state of 'ealth, I'm sorry to say; but if 
 your ladyship would condescend to excuse of her bein' 
 in the room, there's a nice fire burnin', hand I may say 
 hevery comfort." 
 
 Mr. Green was evidently proud both of his niece 
 and of his parlour; and Madge did not wonder at this 
 when, having graciously acceded to his request, she was 
 shown into a very prettily furnished room and into the 
 presence of a tall, handsome woman, dressed in black, 
 who, as the door opened, started up from the sofa 
 upon which she had been reclining. 
 
 "Lady Shearman, of Brampton Priory, my dear," 
 Mr. Green announced. "Her ladyship has been over-
 
 236 MISS SHAFTO. 
 
 took by the rain and is doing us the honour to shelter 
 herself under our 'umble roof." 
 
 "Please don't let me disturb you," said Madge, ad- 
 vancing towards the sofa as the landlord withdrew; "I 
 am sorry to hear that you are ill." 
 
 "Oh, I'm dying," answered the woman in black 
 quietly. "With these chest complaints one never knows 
 exactly how long a person may last; but it can't be 
 many months in my case, the doctors tell me, and it 
 seems natural to come home to die. A sort of instinct, 
 I suppose." 
 
 It is also an instinct with most people to contradict 
 those who declare themselves to be dying; but Madge 
 looked at the waxen complexion and hollow cheeks of 
 the speaker and felt that it would be a mockery to say 
 what she had been going to say. This Mrs. Walter, 
 notwithstanding her worn and wasted appearance, had 
 the remains of great beauty. Her eyes were large and 
 dark; her black hair was abundant, and her features 
 were finely chiselled. Her manner and speech, too, 
 were somewhat more refined than one would expect 
 those of an innkeeper's niece to be, 
 
 "You belong to these parts, then?" asked Madge 
 at length. 
 
 "Yes, my lady, and I remember you well; though 
 you wouldn't remember me. There was a deal of talk 
 in this neighbourhood six years ago when Bessie Green 
 ran away from her uncle's house, and I dare say a 
 good many didn't credit the story of her being married 
 to a rich gentleman of the name of Walter. However, 
 seeing is believing; and here is Mrs. Walter back, as a 
 widow, bringing her fortune with her."
 
 MRS. WALTER. 237 
 
 This was said composedly enough, yet with a slight 
 bitterness of intonation which made Madge fancy that 
 the incredulity of the neighbourhood might not be wholly 
 groundless. However, she asked no questions, but 
 began, as her custom was, to chatter about herself, 
 mentioning that she found life at Brampton a little bit 
 dull, and that she was unable to feel that absorbing 
 interest in the poor of the district which had made 
 Miss Shafto so popular. 
 
 "One is glad to do what one can to help them, of 
 course," she said; "but the truth is that they are not 
 very interesting." 
 
 Mrs. Walter smiled. "They are not at all interest- 
 ing to such as you, my lady," she answered, "because 
 they wouldn't think it worth while to tell you about 
 anything except their illnesses and misfortunes. Still 
 you have your own class to associate with. I have left 
 my class and I haven't got into any other; so that for 
 six years I may say I have lived alone, and now I see 
 nobody from morning to night, except my uncle and 
 aunt and the doctor, when he comes. That makes a 
 person willing enough to die." 
 
 It sounded a miserable sort of existence to lead, 
 and Madge was touched by a grievance which her own 
 temperament enabled her to enter into thoroughly. 
 
 "Would it amuse you at all to see me if I looked 
 in sometimes?" she asked. 
 
 The woman's face brightened up. "Indeed it would, 
 my lady! It would be a real kindness. I've nothing 
 to do but to read, and often I'm too tired for reading, 
 so I just lie here and think and think, and wish the 
 end would come."
 
 230 MISS SHAFTO. 
 
 Thus was inilialed what speedily became almost a 
 friendship. The sick woman took a great fancy to Lady 
 Shearman, perhaps because, as is the case with many 
 sick people, the mere sight of health and beauty re- 
 freshed her, perhaps because she somcAvhat overestimated 
 the kindness of heart which prompted her ladyship's 
 visits. Madge, for her part, was much interested in 
 Mrs. Walter, whose history, she was sure, must be of a 
 more romantic nature than had as yet appeared, and 
 who, she hoped, might eventually feel impelled to 
 divulge some of its episodes. 
 
 This hope was fulfilled quite abruptly one after- 
 noon, when Madge, after paying a round of calls, 
 stopped her carriage at the Shafto Arms and entered the 
 little sitting-room where Mrs. Walter was, as usual, lying 
 on the sofa before the fire. The latter listened half- 
 abstractedly for a while to what Madge (who was apt 
 to be imprudently outspoken) had to say about the 
 inanity of the ladies whom she had found at home, and 
 then remarked, with a sigh — 
 
 "Well, it's odd how one's notions change! There 
 was a time when I'd have given anything to be able 
 to say I was on visiting terms with Lady This or Mrs. 
 That; but now I shouldn't care about it if I could have 
 it. It's not that the grapes are sour either. If I was 
 well and strong again to-morrow I shouldn't want to 
 live with my husband or to mix with his friends. My 
 husband isn't dead, and his name isn't Walter. I dare 
 say you've guessed that." 
 
 Madge shook her head wonderingly. "Who is your 
 husband, then?" she asked. 
 
 "It's curious," answered the woman, smiling, "that
 
 MRS. WALTER. 239 
 
 nobody hereabouts should have suspected the truth, 
 but, to the best of my belief, nobody ever has, and I'd 
 rather it wasn't known yet, though after I'm dead I 
 suppose it won't matter much. Will you kindly keep 
 it secret, my lady, if I answer your question?" 
 
 Madge having at once given the desired promise, 
 Mrs. Walter resumed: "I've had an unhappy life, and 
 nobody but myself is to blame for it; I know that now. 
 I was a nasty-tempered girl, as my aunt could tell you, 
 and I was an ambitious girl too, and I married a man 
 whom I didn't care a pin's head about, for the sake of 
 the position he never gave me. You don't recollect 
 Lady Loddondale. She died before you came to these 
 parts; and the old Lord was so cut up about his loss 
 that he closed Warbury Park, and, I believe, never saw 
 the place again to the day of his death. But one of 
 his sons used to run down for a day or two at a time 
 to consult with the bailiff or the land-steward; and so 
 it happened that, as I was walking through the woods 
 on a summer's evening, I met a young gentleman who 
 spoke to me, and we got talking, and he asked me to 
 meet him again, and — and there! I needn't tell you 
 all the rest. I was a handsome girl then — there's no 
 harm in my saying so, now that I'm such a scarecrow 
 — and he fell over head and ears in love with me, and 
 the end of it was that I consented to run away to 
 London with him and be married privately. He told 
 me that his name was Lord Walter Sinclair — ■ — " 
 
 "Lord Walter!" ejaculated Madge aghast. 
 
 "So he told me. I never loved him; but I was 
 pleased and flattered that he should love me, and I 
 was willing to live quietly in the house that he took
 
 240 MISS SHAFTO. 
 
 for me under the name of Mrs. Walter and wait until 
 his father died; because he said it would mean ruin 
 for us both if he acknowledged me while there was 
 still time for Lord Loddondale to alter his will. He 
 soon got tired of me, and I'm sure I don't wonder at 
 it; for I didn't make things pleasant for him. You see, 
 I led the dullest kind of life; because he wouldn't be 
 seen anywhere with me, and he was always away at 
 race meetings, and, as I told you before, I have a 
 nasty temper, and he himself was given to be peppery; 
 so " 
 
 "I can't help thinking that there is some mistake," 
 interrupted Madge. "What was he like, this man whom 
 you call Lord Walter Sinclair?" 
 
 "He was not handsome," replied Mrs. Walter com- 
 posedly. "His hair was reddish, and he shaved his 
 face clean like a groom." 
 
 "Then," exclaimed Madge, with some excitement, 
 "he was not Lord Walter at all; and my firm belief is 
 that, if your marriage was a real one — but I suppose it 
 couldn't be, as he gave a wrong name? —you are 
 Marchioness of Loddondale." 
 
 "I am quite aware of that, my lady," answered the 
 Marchioness, with a slight smile. "I found out long 
 ago who my husband was, and a terrible fright I had 
 till I heard from a lawyer that the marriage held good, 
 in spite of the fraudulent entry of one of the parties. 
 Indeed, it was about that that we fell out finally; 
 though we were quite ready to quarrel before. He 
 was a curious man; he always wanted to be getting the 
 better of somebody, and from the very first he suspected 
 that I had more fancy for being a lady than for being
 
 MRS. WALTER. 24 1 
 
 his wife. That was why he pretended to be Lord 
 Walter; because I might have given myself out as Lady 
 Warbury, and, the property being entailed, his father 
 couldn't have ruined him. 'You can claim your rights,' 
 he said, the day when we parted; 'I'm your husband, 
 safe enough. But you can't make me live with you.' " 
 
 "And you didn't claim your rights?" 
 
 "No; for I had found out by that time that they 
 would be of very little use to me. I shouldn't have 
 been received. If I had had children it might have 
 been different; but I had got disheartened, and my 
 health was beginning to give way, and I only wished 
 to be left in peace. He was very liberal to me. He 
 gave me an allowance large enough to keep me in 
 comfort, and since he came into the title he has settled 
 a handsome sum of money upon me, which my uncle 
 and aunt will get when I'm gone." 
 
 "Does he know how ill you are?" asked Madge, 
 after a pause. 
 
 "Not he! He never asks any questions. But he 
 knows I'm here; I thought he had better be told of 
 that: and I expect that's why Warbury Park is shut 
 up. I had a request through the lawyers that I would 
 move elsewhere, and an offer of a house in any other 
 part of England that I liked to name; but I answered 
 that I meant to stay where I was. He must put up 
 with this little inconvenience; it won't be for long." 
 
 "And you might have been living at Warbury now, 
 with all sorts of luxuries and heaps of servants to at- 
 tend to you, and — and everything!" was Madge's not 
 unnatural comment upon this startling narrative. 
 
 "Do you think so, my lady? He's bound to main- 
 
 Mi'ss Shafto. /, 16
 
 2:^2 MISS SHAFTO. 
 
 tain me, of course; but I'm not sure that he's bound to 
 give me one of his houses to hve in. Anyway, I would 
 rather die here than there. And, do you know, my 
 lady, I think I've got as good as I deserve. It's only 
 the truth to say that I didn't behave well to him, and 
 if I've shown some consideration for him by not claim- 
 ing all that I might have claimed — well, perhaps we 
 may cry quits. A woman who marries for a title or for 
 money doesn't deserve to be very happy, does she? 
 And I expect that most of the women who do that find 
 out sooner or later that they have married for what 
 they don't really care about. Then they mustn't blame 
 their husbands." 
 
 Whether this last observation was intended to bear 
 any special significance Madge could not feel quite 
 certain; but she suspected that it was, and, for the time 
 being, the suspicion rather checked the flow of her 
 sympathy with her confidant. However, she paid many 
 subsequent visits to the so-called Mrs. Walter, who, not- 
 withstanding her hardness of manner, was not ungrate- 
 ful, and who always listened with a great deal of 
 patience to the murmurs which (in the absence of Norma 
 Shafto) Madge did not venture to breathe to any one 
 else.
 
 LORD WALTER RECOV'ERS HIS SANITY. 243 
 
 CHAPTER XXI. 
 
 LORD WALTER RECOVERS HIS SANITY. 
 
 Rome (historical associations apart) is about as well 
 fitted to be the capital of Italy as Athens is to be the 
 capital of Greece; but in neither case, probably, could 
 any other selection have been made; so that there is 
 nothing for the Italians and the Greeks to do but to 
 make the best of what can't be helped. The best that 
 can be made, however, is not good and not convenient; 
 and those of us who are old enough to remember Rome 
 under the picturesque old Papal re'girne may be per- 
 mitted to drop a silent tear over the very clean sweep 
 achieved by the new brooms. Walter Sinclair, not hav- 
 ing visited Italy during his childhood, was not old 
 enough to be distressed by any reminiscences of the 
 period alluded to, and was consequently very well 
 pleased with the city which remains what it always has 
 been — the head-quarters of sculptors. He was lucky 
 enough to obtain upon very moderate terms, from a 
 friend whose health compelled him to return to Eng- 
 land, the lease of a commodious studio in the Via 
 Sistina; and, as he arrived very early in the season, he 
 had few temptations to neglect the work to which he 
 had determined to consecrate all his energies. 
 
 At the same time, it is not wholesome for anybody 
 to work all day and every day without relaxation; nor 
 
 16*
 
 244 ^"SS SHAFTO, 
 
 would he have been suffered to do so if he had de- 
 sired it. He had a few artistic acquaintances in the 
 place, and these soon introduced him to others; also he 
 knew the Embassy people, whose hospitality it was im- 
 possible to decline. Then, as the weather grew colder, 
 the annual influx of English immigrants began to pour 
 in; and amongst them was his aunt Lady Spencer 
 Sinclair, a well-to-do widow, whose winters were always 
 spent in one southern city or another, and whose little 
 dinners were as famous as they deserved to be, seeing 
 that it was her habit to take her French cook about 
 with her. Lord Walter, of course, had to dine with his 
 aunt, and, equally of course, he met at her table persons 
 with whom he subsequently had to dine. The truth is 
 that it is by no means easy for the brother of a marquis 
 to lead the life of a hermit or to brood in solitude over 
 any sorrows with which he may be afflicted. In vain 
 he protested that he did not mean to go into society 
 that winter: it was pointed out to him with unquestion- 
 able truth that meeting half a dozen friends at dinner, 
 or visiting picture-galleries and making excursions with 
 them, is not going into society; and indeed he was not 
 very unwilling to be convinced by such arguments. 
 After all, he had come to Rome to be cured of his 
 complaint, not to nurse it; and if he was sometimes a 
 little ashamed of the rapidity with which the cure was 
 being effected, he was quite as often and quite as much 
 ashamed of requiring any cure at all. For he saw now 
 how ridiculous it had been on his part to fall in love 
 with Madge Wilton; he saw that he had been fascinated, 
 not by that young lady herself, but simply by her face 
 and by certain little ways and tricks that she had; and
 
 LORD WALTER RECOVERS HIS SANITY. 245 
 
 his sensations, now that he had recovered his self- 
 command, were very much those of one who, waking 
 out of a vivid dream in which he has conducted him- 
 self like a lunatic, draws . in his breath and thanks 
 Heaven that he is not what he might have been. Lord 
 Walter, but for the fortunate circumstance that his 
 means were small, might have been the husband of o 
 woman whom he would have ceased to love as soon as 
 he found her out; and it was hardly to be supposed 
 that he could have lived six months with her without 
 finding her out. 
 
 One Sunday afternoon, having nothing else to do, 
 he strolled into the church of the Trinita de' Monti at 
 the hour of vespers. The music at that church is still 
 good, though perhaps not quite as good as it used to 
 be, and the light is always dim, and the faint smell of 
 incense and the solemn chanting do not fail to produce 
 a certain impressive effect upon the emotional heretic. 
 Lord Walter had been impressed there upon several 
 previous occasions, and doubtless would have been so 
 again if, quite at the beginning of the service, his at- 
 tention had not been attracted by a face near the door- 
 way which interested him to the extent of making him 
 forget everything else in the pleasure of watching it. 
 He was naturally pleased to see Miss Shafto again, and 
 indeed he had been wondering for some time past 
 whether she would make her appearance in Rome, as 
 she had said that she might possibly do; but what 
 struck him at the moment as it had never struck him 
 before was the perfect beauty, not only of her features, 
 but of her expression. She was listening to the music, 
 if he was not, and she seemed to have been carried
 
 246 MISS SHAFTO. 
 
 away by it; for her lips were slightly parted and there 
 was a bright, eager light in her eyes, and Lord Walter, 
 gazing at her, thought to himself that if she had lived 
 in the time of Raphael, she would certainly have been 
 immortahzed. However, all things considered, he was 
 not sorry that her advent into a world inhabited so 
 largely by ugly persons had been deferred until the 
 latter part of the nineteenth century. For the moment 
 we are without a Raphael; but we have artists among 
 us who can at least reproduce the lineaments of a lovely 
 face, not to speak of sculptors who would be very glad 
 to do their best in that direction if they might be 
 allowed to try. The aspiring young sculptor who was 
 watching Miss Shafto now had ample opportunity for 
 studying her, because, as she was so much taller than 
 her neighbours, her profile was clearly defined against 
 the dark background of the curtain which hung before 
 the doorway. He had made up his mind that he must 
 really ask her to sit to him, and had had time to 
 identify her with numerous allegorical and saintly sub- 
 jects when the service came to an end and he pushed 
 his way through the crowd towards her. 
 
 He reached her side just as she was in the act of 
 stepping into the carriage that was waiting for her; but 
 as soon as she recognized him, she turned round and 
 descended on to the pavement again. 
 
 "I am so glad to see you!" she exclaimed heartily. 
 "I have been hoping ever since we arrived that we 
 might come across you somewhere." 
 
 Then she told the coachman that he could go away, 
 and, turning to Lord Walter, "Perhaps you will kindly
 
 LORD WALTER RECOVERS HIS SANITY. 247 
 
 see me as far as the Piazza Barberini," she said, smil- 
 ing; "it won't take you very long." 
 
 But it seemed that she was in no great hurry to be 
 taken home; for when he had expressed his willingness 
 to be her escort, she did not at once set her f;ice in 
 that direction, but moved slowly towards the top of the 
 steps which lead down to the Piazza di Spagna, and 
 stood gazing at the city beneath her, and the great 
 dome of St. Peter's, and the stone-pines above San Pietro 
 in Montorio, which showed purple against the sunset 
 glow. 
 
 "Isn't it perfect?" she exclaimed suddenly. "I 
 can't think how anybody can be disappointed in Rome ! " 
 
 "Nor can I, if you speak of it as a whole," he re- 
 plied. "Some of the details are a little disappointing 
 perhaps at first sight, and the new quarter is incom- 
 parably hideous. For my own part, I may say that 
 Rome has more than answered my expectations; but 
 then my expectations were not extravagantly high. 
 Anyhow, I have attained my object in coming here." 
 
 "Yes?" she said, with a quick glance ai him. "Your 
 object, I suppose, was to study ancient and modern art 
 in a place where you were sure of meeting with the 
 best examples of both." 
 
 "My object," he answered sturdily (for this was a 
 thing which had to be said, and as he did not much 
 like saying it, he thought he would get it over as quickly 
 as possible), "was to rid myself of the remains of an 
 attack of insanity; and I have succeeded. I am now 
 quite sane." 
 
 "Well," said Norma, after a momentary pause, "I 
 am glad of that; though I don't know why you should
 
 248 MISS SHAFTO. 
 
 wish to make out that you were ever insane. It is a 
 pity to set one's heart on things that one can't have; 
 but it isn't crazy, and one can't always help it." 
 
 "Oh, one can't help it, if that is any consolation, 
 and I quite agree with you that there's nothing crazy 
 in wishing for what one can't have. But it is more or 
 less crazy to imagine that people are what they quite 
 obviously are not." 
 
 "But is that what you imagined?" 
 
 "I suppose so. I can't exactly tell what I imagined; 
 but, whatever it may have been, it certainly wasn't the 
 truth, and it doesn't seem to me that I was altogether 
 responsible for my vain imaginings. Now I have come 
 to my senses again, and I don't feel particularly proud 
 of that episode in my life, and I should like to forget it." 
 
 "I dare say that is the best thing you can do," said 
 Norma. But in her heart she thought that he ought 
 not to have been able to forget quite so easily; and if 
 he wanted her to think well of him — as he undoubtedly 
 did— he was setting to work rather clumsily. 
 
 "I hope you will honour my studio with a visit one 
 of these days," said he, by way of changing the subject. 
 "I am close by this, in the Via Sistina, and I have 
 really been very busy since I came to Rome, so that 
 there will be more of my handiwork for you to criticise 
 here than there was in London." 
 
 "Did you ever finish that statue of Elizabeth of 
 Hungary?" asked Norma. 
 
 "How can you ask such a question! Didn't you 
 condemn it utterly?" 
 
 "I didn't mean to do that; and besides, if I had, 
 what could it possibly have signified? I am no judge."
 
 LORD WALTER RECOVERS HIS SANITY. 249 
 
 "Oh, excuse me; I think you are as good a judge 
 as anybody of the particular point that you fastened 
 upon; and Loddondale is a very fair judge of anatomy. 
 He told me Queen Elizabeth had a game leg — which 
 was quite true." 
 
 Norma laughed. "Do you know, we met your 
 brother at Monte Carlo," said she; and then she re- 
 membered her conversation with Lord Loddondale and 
 laughed again, the memory causing her no embarrass- 
 ment. 
 
 "Loddondale never Avrites to me," remarked Lord 
 Walter, "and I never know where he is or what he is 
 doing. He is a queer sort of fellow." 
 
 "Yes, I think he is rather queer in some ways," 
 agreed Norma; "but I like him, and I wish he would 
 make up his mind to marry some nice girl. He is not 
 nearly as rough and rude as he pretends to be." 
 
 Now, Lord Walter had a shrewd suspicion that if 
 his brother's hand and heart were ever offered to any- 
 body, Norma Shafto would be the lady thus favoured, 
 and this was an event which could not be contemplated 
 with satisfaction or approval. Loddondale and Norma 
 Shafto! — it was a kind of desecration to couple their 
 names together. 
 
 "I don't think, you know," he said presently, "that 
 Loddondale could ever be domesticated. His wife 
 would have to be a person of strong sporting tastes; 
 and even then " 
 
 "He spoke very kindly about you," observed Norma. 
 
 "Did he? Well, I hope I am not speaking unkindly 
 about him. I believe we are as good friends as our 
 very opposite dispositions will allow us to be. My old
 
 250 MISS SHAFTO. 
 
 aunt, Lady Spencer, who is here now, says she means 
 to take the head of the family in hand when she goes 
 back to London and rouse him to a sense of his social 
 duties. I have begged her to let me be present at the 
 interview, which is likely to be a brief and animated 
 one." 
 
 "Papa knows Lady Spencer Sinclair," remarked 
 Norma. "He met her the other day; and this morning 
 we had a note from her asking us to join a picnic to 
 Frascati and Monte Cavo. Will you be of the party by 
 any chance?" 
 
 "She invited me, and I refused," answered Lord 
 Walter; "but since you are going, I think I'll withdraw 
 my refusal and give myself a holiday." 
 
 "Do," said Norma; "I am sure it will be good for 
 you." 
 
 But somehow or other she did not speak very 
 enthusiastically, and he could not help noticing that 
 her manner was less warm by several degrees than it 
 had been at the opening of their conversation. That 
 this was in any way due to the facility with which he 
 had got over a misplaced attachment did not occur to 
 him; only, as they had now reached the entrance of 
 the Hotel Bristol, where the Shaftos were staying, he 
 thought he would postpone to a more favourable op- 
 portunity the request which he had resolved to make. 
 It is not everybody who cares to pose as a model, and 
 he knew very well that, if Miss Shafto did consent to 
 sit to him, he would have to trespass considerably upon 
 her time and patience before he would be able to satisfy 
 himself. So he took his leave, saying, "We shall meet 
 again to-morrow then, I hope."
 
 LORD WALTER RECOVERS HIS SANITY. 25 I 
 
 Without further loss of time , he went to call upon 
 his aunt, who said, "Come by all means, if you like; 
 only you will have to ride, I'm afraid, because the car- 
 riages will be full. I offered the place in mine which 
 you wouldn't take to young Grey, who jumped at it 
 when I told him that Miss Shafto was coming with me." 
 
 "You forgot to hold out that inducement to me." 
 
 "Well, I didn't know about it at the time, and I 
 don't know much about her now. Is she so very attrac- 
 tive?" 
 
 "Perhaps not in the sense that you mean; but she 
 is very beautiful, and I want to get her to sit for me. 
 Anyhow, you will have to leave your carriage at Fras- 
 cati, I suppose." 
 
 It was with this anticipation that Lord Walter had 
 to comfort himself on the following day, as he cantered 
 across the brown Campagna towards the Alban hills. 
 He was not the only equestrian, and he did not enjoy 
 the society of a lively and pretty little American lady 
 as much as no doubt he would have done had he been 
 able to listen to a word that she was saying. For every 
 now and then they came in sight of Lady Spencer's 
 carriage, and each time that they did so he saw Mr. 
 Grey, that good-looking young Secretary of Embassy, 
 making himself as agreeable as he could (and that was 
 very agreeable indeed) to Norma. Now, to see any 
 man making himself agreeable to Miss Shafto was what 
 Walter Sinclair had always disliked extremely. This, 
 it must be admitted, was selfish of him; but he couldn't 
 help it, nor could he help being annoyed with that 
 fellow Grey, who really might have been contented with 
 the half-dozen or so of flirtations which he already had
 
 252 MISS SHAFTO. 
 
 in hand. Miss Shafto was not for' the likes of Grey, 
 and he was a little surprised at her caring to listen to 
 the sort of prattle which Grey affected. 
 
 When Frascati was reached, and when those who 
 did not feel disposed to attempt a fatiguing ascent under 
 a hot sun took advantage of the donkeys that were in 
 waiting, he thought his turn had come and resolutely 
 attached himself to Miss Shafto; but what is the use of 
 trying to talk sensibly if you are to be interrupted at 
 every other word by the irrelevant rubbish of a gar- 
 rulous young diplomatist? Lord Walter very soon had 
 to acknowledge himself defeated, and, fahing back to 
 the rear, said to himself that he had wasted a day by 
 joining this stupid picnic. 
 
 Nevertheless, the picnic was pronounced a great 
 success; and perhaps Lord Walter was the only person 
 present who thought otherwise. The view from the 
 summit of Monte Cavo over the undulating Campagna, 
 with its ruined aqueducts, to the blue mist which hung 
 over Rome and to snowy Soracte in the far distance 
 was all that could be desired. So, too, were the viands 
 and wines provided by Lady Spencer Sinclair. Lady 
 Spencer always did things well. She had selected her 
 company with care and forethought; and was she in 
 any way to blame because a capricious nephew of hers 
 had chosen to tack himself on to the party at the last 
 moment and consequently found himself in the unde- 
 sirable position of odd man out? As for Norma, she 
 thought Mr. Grey very amusing — which indeed he was 
 — and delighted in the scenery and the clear air and 
 the remains of old Tusculum, which were duly in- 
 spected; and she was quite astonished when, at the end
 
 LORD WALTER RECOVERS HIS SANITY. 253 
 
 of a pleasant day, Lord Walter, profiting by the mo- 
 mentary absence of the officious Grey, who had gone 
 to summon the carriages, said crossly, "Thank Heaven, 
 that is over!" 
 
 "Haven't you been enjoying yourself?" she asked. 
 "I am so sorry. I thought everybody seemed to be in 
 such good spirits." 
 
 "I suppose," observed Lord Walter, "you didn't 
 happen to look at me. At least, if you did, and if I 
 appeared to be in good spirits, I may conscientiously 
 score one; because I don't know when in my life I 
 have been more completely sold. I came here simply 
 and solely with the hope of being able to talk to you, 
 and I think we have exchanged about half a dozen 
 words during the day," 
 
 "Oh — but had you anything particular to say?" 
 asked Norma wonderingly. 
 
 "Nothing particular; but I should have been glad 
 to be allowed the privilege of offering a few general 
 remarks. Not, of course, that I could have hoped to 
 be as entertaining as Grey." 
 
 Norma stared at him for a moment and then began 
 to laugh. "This is very flattering," she said. "Do you 
 often make such speeches? If you do, I should think 
 you must sometimes be misunderstood by inexperienced 
 people." 
 
 "Why? I suppose anybody, experienced or inex- 
 perienced, can understand that it is rather provoking 
 to see a friend whom you want to talk to monopolized 
 the whole day by somebody else." 
 
 "Well," said Norma good-humouredly, "you must 
 come and talk to me some other time. I am almost
 
 2 54 '^'•SS SHAFTO. 
 
 always at home after sunset, because papa is in mortal 
 terror of my catching Roman fever, and I should be 
 very glad to see you any day when you have nothing 
 better to do." 
 
 There was surely nothing to complain of in so kind 
 an invitation as that; yet, for some reason or other, 
 Walter Sinclair rode back to Rome in a bad humour, 
 and the little American lady subsequently declared him 
 to be the dullest Englishman whom she had ever met. 
 Which, she was cruel enough to add, was saying a 
 great deal. 
 
 CHAPTER XXII. 
 BASIL MORLEY REVEALS A SECRET. 
 
 Perhaps Mrs. Walter (to give her the name by 
 which she chose to be known) was not the best com- 
 panion or the best adviser that Lady Shearman could 
 have chosen; yet it came to pass that she served in 
 both capacities to the latter, who had few friends of 
 her own class and whose emotions and opinions, being 
 so near the surface, could not be repressed without 
 discomfort. Bessie Walter was in many respects un- 
 w^omanly, and in none more so than in the hard and 
 logical sense of justice which she possessed. She had 
 married from ambitious motives; she had failed in her 
 duty to the man whom she had married; and she was, 
 as she considered, deservedly punished. There was no 
 important difference, that she could see, between her 
 case and that of Lady Shearman, who represented her-
 
 BASIL MORLEY REVEALS A SECRET. 255 
 
 self as unhappy and disappointed, and whose husband, 
 so far as could be judged from common report, was not 
 very unlike Lord Loddondale. As a matter of fact he 
 was very unlike Lord Loddondale, and Madge was very 
 unlike Bessie; but possibly minor distinctions are less 
 evident to those who are at the point of death than to 
 those who have still the prospect of spending many 
 years in a complicated world. Here was a woman who 
 did not love her husband and who complained of his un- 
 reasonable and uncongenial ways: Mrs. Walter could 
 only shrug her shoulders and say, "I should recom- 
 mend you to make the best of him. There's nothing 
 else to be done, you see." 
 
 "But he is so senseless!" Madge would protest. 
 "He is jealous of everybody and everything that comes 
 near me — even of the dogs! He actually objects to 
 my seeing much of my mother; he would certainly ob- 
 ject very strongly if he knew that I was talking to you 
 now." 
 
 "That wouldn't be surprising if he could hear what 
 you are saying," Mrs. Walter would reply drily. 
 
 It never struck her as possible that Madge could 
 feel anything beyond toleration for her husband; she 
 attempted no defence of him, but contented herself 
 with pointing out in more or less plain language that 
 when one has made a bargain with one's eyes open, 
 one must perform one's share of it, even though it 
 should turn out to be a bad one. And this was tlie 
 view of her matrimonial relations which Madge herself 
 came to adopt. The bargain which she had made was 
 not satisfactory; only she did not blame herself for hav- 
 ing made it, because she still clung to the conviction
 
 256 MISS SHAFTO. 
 
 that it had been made for her by the posse of relatives 
 to whose united forces opposition would have been 
 useless. 
 
 It is only fair to her to say that she might have 
 married Sir Christopher for love and still found him a 
 very trying person to live with. It is true that he was 
 devoted to her — a little too devoted, she sometimes 
 thought — but his devotion was not of that kind which 
 implies the smallest self-sacrifice. He amused himself 
 after his fashion, shooting or hunting every day of the 
 week; yet he had no idea of allowing her to amuse 
 herself after hers. If she had cared to participate in 
 his pursuits to the extent of joining him and his friends 
 when they were shooting the home coverts, or even of 
 following the hounds, he would have been willing 
 enough that she should do so; but it so happened that 
 she had no sporting proclivities. She did not like stand- 
 ing about in damp, muddy places or scrambhng through 
 hedges, nor had she nerve enough to hunt. Con- 
 sequently her life was a very dull one; for really it was 
 not worth while to risk a scene for the sake of getting 
 Basil Morley or some other young men of the neigh- 
 bourhood to drop in to five-o'clock tea. 
 
 Sir Christopher usually turned up at that hour, 
 tired out with the exertions of the day; and if, as not 
 unfrequently happened, he found his wife in a discon- 
 tented humour, he put on an injured expression and 
 wanted to know what was the matter. After dinner he 
 generally fell asleep and snored, which was neither 
 polite nor becoming, and at such times Madge said to 
 herself that he looked extremely unlike a gentleman. 
 No one, perhaps, would look very aristocratic with lois
 
 RASIL MORLEY REVEALS A SECRET. 257 
 
 head thrown back and his mouth wide open; but then 
 there are some men of whom one cannot conceive that 
 they would permit themselves to fall into such an atti- 
 tude in the presence of a lady, and it occurred to 
 Madge that Lord Walter Sinclair would never have 
 done it. Furthermore, she sometimes reflected that 
 Lord Walter was heir-presumptive to a marquisate and 
 large estates; and although, to be sure, there was every 
 probability that the present holder of the title would 
 soon be free to marry again, yet Lord Loddondale was 
 a man who frequently rode in steeplechases and otlier- 
 wise endangered his neck. 
 
 Well, of course there was no good in dwelling upon 
 such thoughts as these; but everybody knows what a 
 great difference there is between resigning one's self to 
 a loss and acquiescing in the fact that that loss may 
 turn to somebody else's gain. Madge, when she thought 
 of Lord Walter, pictured him to herself as disconsolate 
 and was really very sorry for him, having by this time 
 quite forgiven his unreasonable behaviour in Scotland. 
 Therefore she Avas not at all pleased to hear that he 
 was enjoying himself greatly at Rome, and that he did 
 not shun the social gaieties which the place afforded. 
 
 This information she obtained from Miss Travers 
 one morning when, contrary to her custom, she had 
 had herself driven to the meet. Miss Travers had lat- 
 terly given up hunting, having, as she declared, a dif- 
 ficulty in mounting herself, by reason of her increasing 
 bulk; but there were few meets at which her dog-cart 
 was not a prominent feature, and she generally con- 
 trived to see as much of the run as could be seen upon 
 wheels. On this particular morning, however, she per- 
 
 Afiss Shafto. /. 17
 
 258 MISS SHAFTO. 
 
 ceived at once that, drive as she might, there would 
 be very Httle chance of her coming across the hunt 
 again; so she determined that, instead of needlessly 
 fatiguing herself and her horse, she would have a little 
 chat with Lady Shearman. Descending from her lofty 
 driving-seat, she marched up to Madge's victoria, and, 
 planting herself beside it, with an elbow resting on the 
 hood, opened the conversation by saying — 
 
 "I suppose you have heard from Norma Shafto, 
 haven't you?" 
 
 "Not very lately," answered Madge. "The truth is 
 I haven't written for some time." 
 
 "Oh, well, I had a letter from her this morning. 
 They are in Rome, you know, and having a fine time 
 of it, she says. Walter Sinclair is there too — which I'm 
 glad of." 
 
 "Is he? Why are you glad?" 
 
 "For reasons of my own. I have also heard from 
 his aunt, who is spending the winter there, and who is 
 , an old friend of mine. She tells me that Walter is in 
 the best of health and spirits, and that, though he is 
 by way of being too busy to indulge in frivolous dis- 
 sipation, he manages to see as much of his friends as 
 he wants. That's the pull of being an artist or an 
 author; when you think you are likely to be bored, 
 you can always excuse yourself upon the plea of having 
 work to do." 
 
 "I should think Lord Walter would very often 
 excuse himself," remarked Madge. 
 
 "That's as may be. My private opinion is that his 
 work doesn't prevent him from being present at any 
 entertainment to which Norma Shafto has been invited."
 
 BASIL MORLEY REVEALS A SECRET. 259 
 
 Miss Travers, as slie said this, looked rather hard 
 at the Uttle lady in the victoria, who was aware that 
 she was being looked at, yet could not help changing 
 colour shghtly. She smiled and said "Oh!" — which 
 was doubtless intended to be provoking, and which had 
 the desired effect. 
 
 "Well," rejoined Miss Travers sharply: "have you 
 any objection to that?" 
 
 "Objection?" asked Madge, raising her eyebrows 
 innocently, "oh dear, no! Why should I? I think it 
 would be too delightful. Only, if that is why you are 
 
 glad that Lord Walter is in Rome, I am afraid 
 
 However, I may be mistaken, of course. I dare say you 
 know much more about him than I do." 
 
 "I know you and he had a flirtation last season," 
 returned Miss Travers coolly; "but last season was last 
 season. You have had time to get married since; and 
 I imagine, saving your presence, that Lord Walter has 
 had time to forget all about you." 
 
 Madge had always been rather afraid of old Nell, 
 who, as she very well knew, was not to be snubbed or 
 put to silence by any of the customary methods. "I 
 don't know," she remarked plaintively, "why I used 
 always to be accused of flirting with every man to whom 
 I talked for five minutes at a time. One comfort is 
 that accusations of that kind are not likely to be brought 
 against me any more." 
 
 "Well, I hope not, I'm sure," said Miss Travers, 
 with a short laugh. "As for Walter Sinclair, he wouldn't 
 have suited you for long, and you certainly wouldn't 
 have suited him. I really do believe that Norma and 
 he are suited to one another, and that's why I'm so
 
 26o MISS SHAFTO. 
 
 glad to hear that there is a prospect of their finding 
 out each other's respective merits. She has a great 
 many more than he has; still, taking him all round, he 
 is above the average run of men." 
 
 "I suppose," observed Madge sweetly, "that nobody 
 can be a better judge than you of what the average 
 run of men are worth. You must have had so many 
 opportunities of studying them." 
 
 Miss Travers burst into a loud, jolly laugh. "Now, 
 now, Madge," said she, "don't you try to be spiteful; 
 it isn't in your line, and you can't manage it. Be 
 thankful for that. Of course I'm as ugly as sin and as 
 old as the hills, and no man has ever been bold enough 
 to propose marriage to me. You don't imagine that 
 you can hurt my feelings by reminding me of those 
 undeniable circumstances, do you? Another time, when 
 you want to hit me on the raw, you had better make 
 some allusion to corpulence. I'm always telling people 
 how fat I am getting; but I only do it in the hope of 
 being contradicted. Well, I must be off Don't say 
 anything nasty about poor Walter when you write to 
 Norma. She won't believe you if you do." 
 
 Miss Travers was not quite so indiscreet as the fore- 
 going conversation may cause her to appear. For more 
 reasons than one, she was very anxious to see her be- 
 loved Norma married and provided for; she liked Lord 
 Walter, and thought well of him; also she knew what 
 irreparable mischief may be worked by a silly and 
 jealous woman. Therefore she had deemed it advisable 
 to prepare Lady Shearman's mind for what might 
 shortly occur. "I don't think," she mused as she 
 drove briskly homewards, "that there is much fear of
 
 BASIL MORLEY REVEALS A SECRET. 26 I 
 
 her ladyship's putting her oar in now. She will be too 
 angry to interfere." 
 
 Angry Madge undoubtedly was, and her vanity was 
 wounded; but as vanity is not quite the same thing as 
 pride, it is likely enough that, if Norma had been 
 within reach, some of those "nasty things" would have 
 been said to her about Lord Walter which Miss Travers 
 had affected to think Madge capable of writing. Madge 
 did not write at all; but during the next few days she 
 thought a great deal about her former suitor, and was 
 seriously displeased with him, as she considered that 
 she had every right to be. Faithless and shameless 
 were among the least severe of the epithets which she 
 mentally applied to him, and the only thing that con- 
 soled her was that Norma must well know him to be 
 both. 
 
 Not long after this Sir Christopher and Lady Shear- 
 man were present at a large dinner-party, given chiefly 
 in their honour, at one of the neighbouring houses. Sir 
 Christopher abhorred provincial dinner-parties, and 
 Madge was not particularly fond of such entertainments; 
 still, anything was better than sitting at home, and 
 when one has a whole wardrobe full of beautiful new 
 frocks, it is a thousand pities not to wear them before 
 they become old fashioned. 
 
 The dinner was heavy and tedious, as was also 
 the host, an old gentleman with white whiskers and a 
 high colour of whom Madge had always stood rather in 
 awe, and whom she had to entertain as best she could, 
 since he did not seem to feel it any part of liis duty to 
 entertain her. This was uphill work; for she was not 
 fortunate enough to hit upon any subject that interested
 
 262 MISS SHAFTO. 
 
 the old gentleman (though she tried everything that 
 she could think of, from fox-hunting to gout), and by 
 the time that her hostess gave her the signal of release 
 she was much exhausted and depressed. The conver- 
 sation which ensued between the ladies in the drawing- 
 room was not of a nature to raise her drooping spirits, 
 and some idea of the depth of despondency to which 
 she had sunk may be gathered from the fact that she 
 was quite delighted when the door opened and Basil 
 Morley ambled across the room towards her. Fatuous 
 though Basil was, he was more amusing than he in- 
 tended to be and a great deal more amusing than any- 
 body else whom Madge could descry. Sir Christopher, 
 it was true, disapproved of him; but Sir Christopher, 
 who had been drinking the old gentleman's justly cele- 
 brated port, had brought a radiant countenance out of the 
 dining-room -svith him, and was probably not in a cen- 
 sorious mood. 
 
 jMr. Morley sank into a low chair, facing Madge, 
 and resting his elbows upon the arms of it, formed a 
 triangle with his long white fingers and thumbs, across 
 which he smiled at her pensively. "Permit me," said 
 he, "to congratulate you." 
 
 "Thanks," answered Madge; "but I don't know 
 why I should be congratulated. If anything pleasant 
 has happened to me, or is going to happen to me, 
 you would make me sincerely grateful by telling me 
 of it." 
 
 "I am afraid," said Mr. Morley, still smiling, "that 
 I can't promise you any pleasant prospect, except that 
 of a speedy deliverance from this bucolic feast. I only 
 ventured to congratulate you upon the cheerfulness with
 
 BASIL MORLEY REVEALS A SECRET. 263 
 
 which you have borne it up to now. You seem to 
 accept Hfe generally in a cheerful spirit; and that is 
 very wise of you." 
 
 The speech, as well as the manner of its delivery, 
 bordered upon impertinence; but Madge was not af- 
 fronted. It was really a matter of so very little con- 
 sequence whether Mr. Morley meant to be impertinent 
 or not. 
 
 "One tries to be cheerful," she remarked; "but 
 certainly life in the country at this season of the year 
 is not gay for those who take no interest in the destruc- 
 tion of wild animals. If I could have my own way, I 
 should always winter abroad." 
 
 "And can't you have your own way, Lady Shear- 
 man? I should have thought Sir Christopher could re- 
 fuse you nothing." 
 
 "Would you indeed? Well, I haven't put him to 
 the test yet; but I imagine that if I were to ask him to 
 take me straight off to Rome, where the Shaftos are 
 now, and where I should hke to be, he would meet me 
 with a kindly but firm refusal." 
 
 "Ah, yes; I had heard that the Shaftos were at 
 Rome — and Lord Walter Sinclair too," observed Mr. 
 Morley, looking rather curiously at his neighbour. 
 
 "I suppose it was Miss Travers who told you that," 
 said Madge, with a laugh which even to her own ears 
 sounded a little harsh. "She has built up a whole ro- 
 mance upon the strength of the coincidence." 
 
 Mr. Morley threw back his head, closed his eyes, 
 and exaggerated his smile. 
 
 "What on earth are you putting on that face for?" 
 asked Madge, with pardonable exasperation.
 
 264 MISS SHAFTO. 
 
 "I do not think," he repHed deliberately, "that Lord 
 Walter Sinclair will ever marry Miss Shafto. It might 
 — though that is not my personal opinion— be satis- 
 factory if he would — or could. But, as I say, I do not 
 think that he will." 
 
 This was more than flesh and blood could stand. 
 "I don't believe you know anything at all about him or 
 his intentions, said Madge. "If you mean that he is 
 too poor, that isn't an obstacle which Norma would be 
 likely to consider for a moment." 
 
 Mr. Morley blandly signified that that was not what 
 he meant. He was aware, he said, that Miss Shafto 
 differed from other women in being entirely above 
 mercenary considerations; he also ventured to think 
 that she was in other respects so superior to her sup- 
 posed suitor that she would scarcely accept his hand, 
 even if he were at liberty to make such an offer to her. 
 But 
 
 "Do you mean to say that he is not at liberty?" 
 Madge asked. 
 
 Mr. Morley replied by another question. "Can you 
 keep a secret, Lady Sheannan?" 
 
 It is needless to record Madge's answer; for to that 
 especial query probably only one answer has ever been 
 returned since the world began. 
 
 "Then," said Mr. Morley, "I will confide to you 
 what I have never confided to anybody else; for I am 
 no mischief-maker. I have pretty good reasons for be- 
 lieving that Lord Walter is married already." 
 
 Madge guessed at once what was the mistake into 
 which he had fallen, but she listened to him patiently 
 while he related at great length how he had chanced
 
 BASIL MORLEY REVEALS A SECRET, 265 
 
 to encounter the so-called widow who was living at the 
 Shafto Arms; how he had been interested in her ap- 
 pearance; how he had made inquiries as to her history; 
 how he had put this and that together, taking much 
 pains about it ("I am rather good at circumstantial 
 evidence," he remarked parenthetically); and how he 
 now considered it to be as good as proved that "Mr. 
 Walter" was no other than Lord Walter Sinclair. 
 
 Now, of course, it was not for Madge to reveal the 
 truth to him. She had promised not to do that; and 
 the comment which she made upon his narrative was 
 unexceptionable both in spirit and in form. "You have 
 found a mare's nest, Mr. Morley," said she. "I know 
 Mrs. Walter quite well, and I am convinced that she 
 is no more married to Lord Walter than she is to 
 you." 
 
 Nevertheless, as she drove away beside the slumber- 
 ing Sir Christopher, some queer notions found their way 
 into her head. She hated the thought that Lord Walter 
 had transferred his allegiance from her to Norma; she 
 was very angry ^vith him and would have liked to be 
 revenged upon him. Yet she was not bad enough to 
 contemplate seriously writing the letter to her friend 
 which a really bad woman might have written; her 
 iniquity did not go further than a half-wish that her 
 conscience would allow her to do such a thing. But 
 perhaps that was far enough. 
 
 As for Basil Morley, his reflections while he sat at 
 his writing-table , burning the midnight oil , ran some- 
 thing on this wise: "So she hasn't forgotten the man; 
 I thought she hadn't. And she is indignant and jealous, 
 and she can't hide her emotions — which makes her
 
 2 66 MISS SHAFTO. 
 
 eyes sparkle and is decidedly becoming to her. This 
 is most interesting." 
 
 And before he went to bed he had added a sonnet, 
 entitled Fzircns Femina , to that collection which as yet 
 no publisher had manifested any eagerness to issue. 
 
 CHAPTER XXIII. 
 
 SIR Christopher's hunting is stopped. 
 
 Basil Morley's sonnet may have been a talented 
 composition of its kind and may have displayed an 
 intimate acquaintance with the passions and weaknesses 
 of woman's nature; but it certainly did not apply in 
 any way to the lady who had had the honour of sug- 
 gesting it. Nothing could have been less like 2i furens 
 femina than Madge Shearman, nor was there the smallest 
 likelihood of her assuming that tragic part which the 
 poet felt that it would be instructive to contemplate. 
 On the other hand, it must be admitted that she was 
 very cross. It is a hardship to have nothing to do; 
 although those who have too much to do may smile at 
 it and say that it is one which can only be voluntarily 
 incurred. It is a hardship to be snapped at every time 
 that you receive a visit from one of your friends. And 
 it is a very great hardship — one of the greatest in the 
 world, perhaps, as well as one of the commonest — to 
 be perpetually misunderstood. There cannot be much 
 comfort in being adored by a person who always mis- 
 understands you. For these reasons the Shearman
 
 SIR Christopher's hunting is stopped, 267 
 
 household was not a happy one, and doubtless it would 
 have been more unhappy still if Sir Christopher had 
 not been out of doors from morning to night. That, 
 Madge said to herself, was something to be thankful 
 for; but her general frame of mind was far from thank- 
 ful, and there were many hours during which she 
 wondered wistfully what would have happened if she 
 had set her family at defiance and refused point-blank 
 to become Sir Christopher's wife. 
 
 It was on a chilly, misty afternoon that she was 
 sitting before the fire indulging in speculations of this 
 unprofitable kind. Half an hour earlier she had re- 
 turned from her daily drive and from paying certain 
 duty-calls. One must have reached the age of sixty to 
 enjoy driving, or rather being driven; and to enjoy 
 paying afternoon calls one must be near one's dotage. 
 Madge had enjoyed neither. The book which she had 
 been trying to read, and Avhich had slipped down from 
 her grasp to the hearthrug, had not entertained her. 
 She was extremely sorry for herself, and at length 
 began to cry a little in a feeble, peevish way. "What 
 a wretched life I lead!" she thought. "One could 
 bear a great calamity; everybody bears great calamities 
 well; but to go on in this dreary monotony, without 
 the least hope of things ever being better, would sour 
 the temper of a saint." 
 
 All of a sudden the door was burst violently open, 
 and her maid, a foolish, flighty woman whom Mrs. Wilton 
 had engaged for her just before her marriage, rushed 
 into the room. 
 
 "What is the matter now, Evans?" asked Madge
 
 268 MISS SHAFTO. 
 
 with some asperity. "What do you mean by bouncing 
 in hke that?" 
 
 "O my lady!" gasped Evans, pressing one hand to 
 her heart, "they've sent me in to break it to you, 
 and I don't know how to do it! There's been a hawful 
 haccident!" 
 
 "Has anything happened to Sir Christopher?" asked 
 Madge, jumping up. 
 
 Evans wrung her hands and nodded her head 
 vehemently. "Oh dear, oh dear, that I should 'ave to 
 say it! But don't give way, my lady; for while there's 
 life there's 'ope, and we must keep calm, indeed we 
 must! The man as come to tell us of it says they'll be 
 bringing him 'ome immediate. Rode into a quarry 
 three or four 'undred feet deep he did — to think of it! 
 And the 'orse killed on the spot, which one can't 
 wonder! But we mustn't believe the worst till it 
 cqmes." 
 
 The first effect of a shock is quite as often to 
 sharpen the faculties as to deaden them. "This cannot 
 possibly be true," said Madge quietly. "There is no 
 quarry in the county three hundred feet deep, or any- 
 thing hke it." 
 
 "Oh, my lady," cried Evans, obviously disappointed 
 at her mistress's composure, "what signifies a 'undred 
 feet more or less? If you was to fall no more than the 
 depth of this room you might break your neck." 
 
 There was no denying that. Madge started and 
 fell back abruptly into her chair. Instantly the whole 
 meaning and consequence of the situation flashed before 
 her. A widow — mistress of great wealth — dehvered 
 from the man who had worried her life out — free to
 
 SIR Christopher's hitntin^g is stopped. 269 
 
 marry whom she pleased! Then, without a moment's 
 delay, this vision was swept away by an overwhelming 
 sense of shame. She could not help her thoughts-— 
 who can? — but she was horrified at herself for having 
 entertained them, and frightened to find that, even for 
 those few seconds, she had wished for her husband's 
 death. And now she became as agitated as Evans 
 could have desired. 
 
 "We must do something," she exclaimed wildly; 
 "we ought to be doing something! Why do you stand 
 there staring? Have they sent for the doctor? Are they 
 getting a bed ready?" 
 
 She hurried into the hall, where she found a little 
 group of awestruck servants, to whom she gave half a 
 dozen contradictory orders. She had completely lost 
 her head and did not know what she was doing until, 
 after an interval of the duration of which she had no 
 remembrance, she found herself shaking hands with the 
 doctor, whose dog-cart had just driven up to the door. 
 
 The doctor was a young man who had a reputation 
 for skill, but who had only recently begun to practise 
 in the neighbourhood. He looked anxious and im- 
 patient. 
 
 "You must try to control yourself, please," said he 
 — and it was only on receiving that injunction that 
 Madge became aware that she was sobbing hysterically 
 — "if you are to be of any use — but of course you will 
 not be of any use. They will get him here in ten 
 minutes or so; and you had better be out of the way." 
 
 He drew her into the dining-room as he spoke, and 
 shut the door.
 
 270 MISS SHAFTO. 
 
 "What has happened?" asked Madge, swallowing 
 down her sobs. "Is he dead? Is he dying?" 
 
 "Neither, I hope; but I cannot speak positively yet. 
 What happened was that he never saw the quarry until 
 it was too late to pull up, and then he tried to clear 
 it. The marvellous thing is that he very nearly suc- 
 ceeded. He might have plunged down a sheer fifty 
 feet; as it was, his fall was broken. So far as I could 
 ascertain the extent of his injuries by a hasty ex- 
 amination, he has broken his arm and two of his ribs; 
 and there has been a slight concussion of the brain, 
 and of course contusions. More than that I can't say 
 at present. Do you wish to telegraph to London for 
 further advice? If so, no time should be lost." 
 
 The doctor's peremptory tone had the effect which 
 it was intended to have of bringing Madge back to her 
 senses. At his dictation, she wrote a telegram to a 
 celebrated London surgeon and gave orders that it 
 should be despatched immediately. Then she declared 
 herself ready and able to do anything that might be 
 required of her. But the doctor declined her offer of 
 assistance. 
 
 "No," he answered not unkindly; "we shall do 
 better without you. Sir Christopher is cut about the 
 face, and although that is of small consequence, the 
 sight would probably turn you sick. I would rather 
 that you should remain quietly where you are until I 
 come down again. It is a good deal to ask, I know; 
 but I suppose you want to help us, and you can't help 
 us better than by sitting still and making no fuss." 
 
 To the present day that doctor entertains a high 
 opinion of Lady Shearman's common sense and self-
 
 SIR Christopher's hunting is stopped. 2 7 i 
 
 command. Perhaps he is right in declaring that very 
 few wives would have consented so submissively to 
 obey orders; no doubt he was right in guarding him- 
 self against having to look after a fainting woman while 
 his attentions were urgently required elsewhere. But 
 he probably did not realize what a relief it was to 
 Madge to be spared what to her would have been the 
 horrible duty of washing those "cuts about the face," to 
 which he had alluded. 
 
 Nevertheless, the ensuing hour of solitude was 
 terrible enough to her. She heard everything, as she 
 sat there motionless, while the daylight faded into 
 darkness — the slow grinding of wheels upon the gravel, 
 the heavy tramp and shuffling of footsteps in the hall, 
 the whispered orders, the hurrying of servants up and 
 down stairs. Then came a prolonged hush which 
 seemed as though it would never end. She had begun 
 to feel that she could not endure suspense for another 
 five minutes, when the doctor stepped cpiickly into the 
 room. 
 
 "Well, Lady Shearman," said he, "I think I may 
 venture to assert that everything promises well. There 
 is the possibility of internal injuries. Sir Henry, when 
 he arrives, will probably tell you that we must wait 
 another twenty-four hours before we can pronounce any 
 • decided opinion as to that. Meanwhile , there are no 
 bad symptoms , and our patient has quite recovered 
 consciousness. You may see him for a few minutes if 
 you like." 
 
 Death, to which we are all condemned, and Avhich, 
 as most of us believe, is a mere break in the infinite 
 continuity of our being, ought not to scare us much;
 
 2"] 2 MISS SHAFTO. 
 
 and indeed, when a person with whom we are not 
 brought into daily contact dies, we are but shghtly, and 
 for a very short time, affected by the incident. Yet, 
 for some reason which is not very clear, only the worst 
 of men and women really desire that death should re- 
 move a member of their own families. Moreover, 
 Madge had not yet got over the horror of that half- 
 murderous thought which had crept into her mind. She 
 jumped up and caught the doctor by both hands. 
 
 "Oh, thank you!" she exclaimed gratefully. 
 
 The doctor laughed. "You had better thank your 
 husband or his horse," said he. "If either of them 
 had faltered, all the surgeons in England could have 
 done no good. It makes one very sorry to think that 
 the poor brute broke his own back, though he saved 
 his master's neck." 
 
 This — oddly enough, as it seemed to Madge^ — was 
 the first comment upon the accident which suggested 
 itself to Sir Christopher. He was a man of far stronger 
 affections and deeper feehngs than his wife's, and the 
 tears came into his eyes when he was told that poor 
 Nero had had to be shot. He was evidently more dis- 
 tressed about this than about his own injuries or the 
 shock which Lady Shearman had sustained, though he 
 was glad to see her when she stole timidly to his bed- 
 side, and smiled at her, and squeezed the small trembl- 
 ing hand which she extended to him. For the rest, 
 he was very quiet and patient, nothwithstanding the pain 
 that he was suffering. 
 
 "'Tis a bad sign," Evans declared, shaking her head. 
 "When you see a 'ot-tempered man — which no one can 
 deny that his temper was 'ot — laying on his back as
 
 SIR CHRISTOPHER S HUNTING IS STOPPED. 
 
 16 
 
 meek as a lamb, you may be sure that the hend is 
 at 'and." 
 
 Such, however, was not the view taken by the great 
 London surgeon, who arrived at ten o'clock and stayed 
 the night, and who, on the following day, was able to 
 confirm fully the favourable prediction of his country 
 colleague. Sir Christopher would live; but he was not 
 likely to leave his bed for a good many weeks to come, 
 and there would certainly be no more hunting for him 
 that year. 
 
 It is in times of adversity, we are often assured, 
 that a man's true nature displays itself, and we can 
 never tell what any one is worth until we have seen 
 what sort of a face he can put upon danger or pain or 
 sickness. Perhaps so; but courage and endurance, 
 though fine qualities, are scarcely required in every- 
 day life, and both may be possessed by one who is 
 nevertheless a very disagreeable person to live with. 
 Sir Christopher, to give him the credit which is his 
 due, certainly shone as an invalid. During several 
 weeks of pretty constant suffering and frequent sleep- 
 lessness he never uttered a word of complaint, and the 
 gratitude which he expressed to his wife in return for 
 such small attentions as reading the newspapers to him 
 or rearranging his pillows was not a little pathetic. 
 Madge felt it to be so, and became almost affectionate 
 in her sympathy and remorse. 
 
 One may say, without much fear of contradiction, 
 that no man can ever fall in love with a wife whom he 
 has not married for love; but the nature of wom;m is 
 in some ways so strange and so unlike our own that 
 one hesitates to declare the impossibility of the con- 
 
 Miss Sha/to. /. i^
 
 274 '^"SS SHAFTO. 
 
 verse event. At any rate, Madge had never liked Sir 
 Christopher so much as she did now, and if he had 
 only remained a cripple for the rest of his days he 
 would perhaps have had no reason to complain that 
 his wife neglected him. 
 
 Unfortunately, as he grew stronger he grew fretful 
 — which is no uncommon thing with convalescents — 
 and so the old troubles began all over again. Mrs. 
 Wilton had taken up her quarters at Brampton during 
 her son-in-law's illness, and since she had discreetly 
 abstained from entering his room, he had made no pro- 
 test against a visit which, under the circumstances, 
 could scarcely have been forbidden. However, he did 
 not like Mrs. Wilton, and the very first day that he 
 came downstairs he had a little passage of arms with 
 her. She had been ordering the dinner, it appeared; 
 and, on finding this out, he told her in so many words 
 that his servants had no instructions to take orders 
 from anybody except Lady Shearman and himself. 
 
 "Once allow that sort of thing to begin and there's 
 an end of all discipline," he grumbled. "I suppose I 
 shall have to give them the sack, from the housekeeper 
 downwards." 
 
 "Pray do not put yourself to that inconvenience," 
 answered Mrs. Wilton, who was not prepared to be 
 quite as submissive to an actual as she might have 
 been to a prospective son-in-law. "It will answer all 
 the purpose if you give me the sack; and now that I 
 can be of no further use here, I shall be very glad to 
 return home." 
 
 After that Sir Christopher made a sort of apology;
 
 SIR Christopher's hunting is stopped. 
 
 ■^/o 
 
 but it was not accepted, and Mrs. Wilton took her de- 
 parture in justifiable displeasure. 
 
 Then there was a great disturbance because Basil 
 Morley called one afternoon, and had an interview of 
 half an hour's duration with Lady Shearman. 
 
 "Do you wish to condemn me to solitary imprison- 
 ment for life?" exclaimed Madge in despair. "If you 
 do, you had better say so at once, and I will tell 
 the servants that nobody is ever to be admitted again." 
 
 "Living wdth me appears to be your notion of soli- 
 tary imprisonment," observed Sir Christopher. "I am 
 not condemning you to anything of the sort; only, as I 
 told you once before, I don't wish you to make a friend 
 of that fellow Morley. Besides, I should think that, 
 while I am in this state, you might very well say 'Not 
 at home' when people come bothering." 
 
 He was not always in so fractious a mood. Every 
 now and again he relapsed into cheerfulness and kind- 
 liness, even going so far as to admit that it must be 
 very slow work for his wife to be tied all day long and 
 every day to a helpless man. 
 
 "I'll tell you what it is, Madge," he said suddenly 
 one evening; "when I'm a bit stronger we'll be off 
 somewhere south till the warm w-eather begins. If your 
 hunting is stopped, there's no more beastly country in 
 the world than England in spring. What do you think 
 of taking a run as far as Rome and looking up the 
 Shaftos?" 
 
 Madge's heart gave a great bound and then stood 
 still. If any one had asked her what she w-ould like 
 best at that moment, and if she had been compelled 
 to return a truthful answer, she would have had to say 
 
 iS*
 
 276 MISS SHAFTO. 
 
 that she would hke to be taken to Rome. Latterly she 
 had received many letters from Norma, who had heard 
 of Sir Christopher's accident and was anxious for news 
 of his progress— letters in which a good deal was said 
 about the sights and attractions and society of Rome, 
 but which contained not one single allusion to Lord 
 Walter Sinclair. This was undoubtedly a strange and 
 suspicious omission. Madge had tried not to think too 
 much about it, and had, with some difficulty, abstained 
 from introducing Lord Walter's name into her replies; 
 but she had been very eager — very pardonably eager, 
 as it seemed to her — to discover how much ground 
 there was for Miss Travers's conjectures; and now, in 
 this surprising and most unexpected fashion, an oppor- 
 tunity was offered to her of verifying or refuting them 
 by the evidence of her own senses. To her credit it 
 must be recorded that she had a moment of compunc- 
 tion. Sir Christopher evidently did not know that 
 Lord Walter was in Rome; and she determined to tell 
 him of it, bringing out her information somewhat 
 hurriedly and awkwardly, lest she should yield to the 
 temptation to hold her tongue. 
 
 "I should hke it of all things," she answered. "It 
 would be very nice to see the Shaftos, and — and there's 
 another friend of ours there — Lord Walter Sinclair. 
 He has taken a studio for the winter, I believe." 
 
 It may be that when one is jealous of everybody 
 one ceases to be jealous of any one person in particular; 
 and Sir Christopher, who had once regarded Lord 
 Walter as a rival, seemed to have forgotten that cir- 
 cumstance. "Oh, he's there, is he?" was his only 
 comment upon Madge's communication. "I don't much
 
 CHARITY. 277 
 
 care about Sinclair. Conceited sort of fellow, I always 
 think. However, we needn't see more of him than we 
 choose, I suppose." 
 
 With that he dropped the subject; but he recurred 
 to it in the course of a day or tAvo, and it is needless 
 to add that his plan met with no opposition. After all, 
 Madge thought, there was no reason in the world why 
 she should not meet Lord Walter, nor any reason why 
 her husband should object to her doing so. She had 
 given him the chance of making an unreasonable ob- 
 jection: more than that she was surely not bound 
 to do. 
 
 CHAPTER XXIV. 
 CHARITY. 
 
 Walter Sinclair, like most people who have the 
 artistic temperament, was somewhat hyper-sensitive; but 
 even if he had not been so, he must have noticed that 
 Miss Shafto was not quite so pleased to meet him again 
 as he was to meet her. He was sorry for that and a 
 little disposed to be affronted, not seeing what he had 
 done to forfeit her friendship; but as he did not wish 
 to make himself ridiculous by showing temper, he called 
 at the Hotel Bristol a few days after the Frascati ex- 
 cursion, and, having sent up his card, was admitted 
 into the sunny little sitting-room which Mr. Shafto had 
 secured for the winter months. Unfortunately, Mr. 
 Grey had selected the same day and hour for paying 
 his respects to a lady whom he much admired; and
 
 278 MISS SHAFTO. 
 
 Lord Walter's entrance interrupted that versatile young 
 gentleman in the midst of a comic song, the accom- 
 paniment of which Norma was playing for him, and 
 which seemed to be affording her considerable amuse- 
 ment. 
 
 Well, it really was rather a funny song, and Grey, 
 who was easily persuaded to sing the concluding verses, 
 had great skill in the way of facial contortion; and if 
 Norma laughed heartily at his performance, that was 
 no more than many persons of the highest intellect 
 and culture had done before her. But Lord Walter 
 could not manage to laugh. The association of Miss 
 Shafto with vulgar buffoonery produced the effect of a 
 horrible discord upon him, and as he could think of 
 no remark that would be at once appropriate and civil, 
 he sat still and held his tongue. 
 
 "Miss Shafto," said Grey, strolling away from the 
 piano and planting himself in front of Lord Walter, 
 whom he contemplated for a moment with interest, "I 
 am sorry to tell you that Sinclair has a poor opinion of 
 you. It's a bad job; but there's no mistake about it- 
 he is disappointed in you. You see, he thought you 
 had a soul above music-hall ditties." 
 
 "I am quite sure that he thought nothing of the 
 kind," returned Norma, laughing. "He knows very well 
 that, when I am in London, I am a staunch supporter 
 of a temperance music-hall, where we are as vulgar as 
 our patrons will allow us to be." 
 
 "Miss Shafto suits herself to her company," said 
 Lord Walter; "one doesn't find out in a day what her 
 own tastes are." 
 
 "That," observed Mr. Grey placidly, "is pretty
 
 CHARITY. 279 
 
 Straight. I suppose I may as well go away now. Then 
 you'll join that riding-party to-morrow, will you, Miss 
 Shafto? And I shall see you after church on Sunday, 
 and I'll remember to get those tickets that you wanted." 
 
 There was a good deal more murmuring and mak- 
 ing of appointments while he took his leave, and it 
 struck Lord Walter that he need not have been so long 
 about it. Certainly there was no occasion for him to 
 hold Norma's hand the whole time. 
 
 "He is a nice little man; don't you think so?" said 
 she, as soon as he had departed. 
 
 "Yes," agreed Lord Walter, smiling; "yes — he is a 
 nice little man." 
 
 "Oh, but I didn't mean that; I meant that he is 
 really nice. Why don't you like him?" 
 
 "I do like him; I like him very much in his way. 
 Only, somehow, I shouldn't have fancied that you 
 would." 
 
 "I like all sorts of people. Everybody can't be a 
 sculptor, you know." 
 
 "If that means that you have any predilection for 
 sculptors as a class, I will try to forgive you for playing 
 Grey's accompaniments," said Lord Walter, who felt 
 that he had been upon the verge of behaving foolishly 
 and was anxious to change the subject. "There is one 
 humble sculptor who has had his studio carefully swept 
 every morning for some time past in the hope of your 
 patronizing it by a visit." 
 
 "We quite intend to drop in upon you as soon as 
 we have a spare half-hour," answered Norma, "but we 
 seem to have been so full of engagements lately; and 
 then there is all the sight-seeing to be done. When
 
 28o MISS SHAFTO. 
 
 do you do your sight-seeing? I suppose you rather 
 hate to find yourself in a crowd of tourists; still you 
 can't altogether neglect the Vatican and the picture- 
 galleries." 
 
 This sounded something like an invitation; and Mr. 
 Shafto, coming in at that moment, was so good as to 
 second it in plainer terms. "Was Norma trying to 
 secure your services as a guide to the picture-galleries, 
 Sinclair?" he asked, after shaking hands with his visitor. 
 "If you would take pity upon us and tell us what we 
 ought to admire, and why we ought to admire it, we 
 should feel deeply indebted to you. Norma knows 
 more about art than I do; but that isn't saying much. 
 We are both badly in want of a competent instructor." 
 
 Walter was very A\dlling to make himself useful in 
 that capacity, and it was at once arranged that he 
 should accompany his friends to the Palazzo Borghese 
 on the following day. As a matter of fact, Mr. Shafto 
 was by no means as ignorant of art as he affected to 
 be; while Norma, if she was not particularly well in- 
 structed in the matter of technicalities, had an eye for 
 form and colour which required very little educating. 
 Also she seemed to enjoy the disquisitions for which 
 her mentor duly apologized. 
 
 "AMiy are you so afraid of being thought pedantic 
 or dictatorial?" she asked, smiling. "You are talking 
 about what you thoroughly understand, and you have 
 every right to lay downi the law. Besides, if you didn't, 
 how should I discover what the law is?" 
 
 She became quite friendly and like her former self 
 while he was expatiating to her upon the painter's and 
 the sculptor's craft. It was very true that she suited
 
 CHARITY. 281 
 
 herself to her company, and that not from any in- 
 sincerity, but simply because the power of sympathy 
 was so strong in her. Only Walter always noticed (for 
 this morning spent at the Borghese Gallery was only 
 the first of a series during which most of the collec- 
 tions in Rome were visited) that as soon as he quitted 
 that topic a certain undefinable constraint came over 
 her manner. She was interested in him as an artist, it 
 appeared, but not as an individual; nor did she care 
 to hear about his plans and prospects, except in so far 
 as they related to the avocation which he had taken 
 up. The promised visit to his studio was never paid; 
 and as for requesting her to pose as his model, he had 
 not the courage to hint at such a thing. He was, in 
 truth, a little afraid of her, which surprised and amused 
 him when he realized it, because it was not much in 
 his way to be afraid of anybody. However, notwith- 
 standing these drawbacks, he found her companionship 
 very pleasant; and Mr. Shafto, who strayed about in 
 his restless fashion from picture to picture, frequently 
 meeting with acquaintances in the course of his wan- 
 derings, was no restraint upon freedom of intercourse. 
 
 One morning, as these three persons were leaving 
 the Palazzo Sciarra, a peasant woman with two ragged 
 children, who had been waiting outside and had ap- 
 parently been in conversation with Mr. Shafto's Italian 
 servant, rushed forward and intercepted Norma, whose 
 hand she kissed, and whom she began to address with 
 voluble and lachrymose eloquence. 
 
 "Now, isn't that hke Norma!" exclaimed Mr. Shafto 
 to Lord Walter, who was a few paces in the back- 
 ground. "Ccelmrtj ?ioti animum, you know. Wherever
 
 ZS2 MISS SHAFTO. 
 
 she goes, she is bound to have poor people running 
 after her, and she has already acquired a long list of 
 out-at-elbows protege's here." 
 
 "Who is the woman?" Lord Walter asked. 
 
 '■'^Z don't know! Where she picks these people up 
 is a mystery to me; but I suppose they are like vultures 
 and scent her from afar." 
 
 "I dare say you are not much better," observed 
 Lord Walter, laughing; for Mr. Shafto had begun to 
 fumble surreptitiously in his pocket. 
 
 "Better? My dear fellow, I'm a thousand times 
 worse. When I see folks with pinched faces and bare 
 feet, I bestow a trifle upon them and retire under a 
 hailstorm of benedictions. That isn't Norma's way at 
 all. She finds out all about them and penetrates into 
 the dens where they live, and gives herself no end of 
 trouble to procure work for them which they won't 
 always do. Norma is the impersonation of true charity; 
 as for me, I cannot be said to personify anything beyond 
 a lazy sort of good-nature." 
 
 This was so absolutely true that there was no dis- 
 puting it. Walter made no rejoinder, but stood gazing 
 at the little group in the sunshine — the black-haired 
 Roman peasant, with her attendant imps; the tall, 
 beautiful lady whose blue eyes expressed nothing but 
 pity and kindliness. Well, if the lady had not been 
 Norma, he might perhaps have laughed at her for 
 believing the pack of lies with which she was in all 
 probability being assailed; but as it was, he did not 
 think the worse of her for being credulous — if indeed 
 she was credulous. He remembered that "Charity 
 suffereth long and is kind; charity hopeth all things.
 
 CHARITY. 283 
 
 believeth all things;" and it came into his mind that 
 if ever Miss Shafto could be prevailed upon to sit to 
 him, it should be in the character of Charity that her 
 image should be presented to the world. 
 
 Later on the same day Lord Walter chanced to be 
 in the studio of a brother-sculptor, a young Frenchman 
 who had achieved renown by some daring flights of 
 fancy; and to him he mentioned the nature of the work 
 he had in contemplation. 
 
 "Charity?" said the Frenchman, with a shrug of 
 his shoulders. "That is not very original, is it? Be- 
 sides, you can't manage it without a group. A single 
 figure would require an inscription on the pedestal, 
 and it is always humiliating to have to explain one's 
 self." 
 
 "Much depends upon the single figure," observed 
 Lord Walter. 
 
 "And a little, perhaps, upon the sculptor. Have 
 you found her then — your Charity? And are you (}uite 
 sure that she does not represent Love?" 
 
 Lord Walter was quite sure of that, and said so 
 vnth. unnecessary emphasis. "I think I have found her," 
 he added; "I don't know that I have secured her." 
 
 Indeed, he was far from confident that he would 
 be able to secure her. There were a good many dif- 
 ficulties in the way; and, reflecting upon these during 
 the two following days, he decided at length that, as a 
 preliminary measure, he would call upon his aunt 
 Lady Spencer Sinclair, to whom he owed a visit. 
 
 He was a favourite with Lady Spencer, otherwise 
 perhaps he would not have been admitted; for her car- 
 riage was at the door, and he found her arrayed for
 
 284 MISS SHAFTO. 
 
 her afternoon drive in magnificent furs and a new bonnet 
 — which last she was examining anxiously in front of a 
 Venetian mirror. 
 
 "How do you do, Walter?" said she, without turn- 
 ing round. "Does this bonnet really make me look 
 such a guy, or is it the fault of the glass?" 
 
 "It is the fault of the glass," replied Lord Walter 
 unhesitatingly; "there must be something radically 
 wrong with any glass that could make you look like a 
 guy. You are the handsomest woman in Rome, my 
 dear aunt, and I believe you know it." 
 
 Lady Spencer had been a famous beauty some- 
 where about the time of her nephew's birth. She was 
 now inclined to be stout; her chin had become a double 
 one, and her abundant hair had turned as white as 
 snow, but she was certainly a very handsome old lady. 
 She was not ill-pleased by the extravagant piece of 
 flattery addressed to her, although she was sharp enough 
 to guess that, after that, she might expect to be asked 
 a favour of some kind. 
 
 "Great as my charms are," she remarked, "they 
 may be neutralized by an ugly bonnet. You need not 
 say that it is a pretty bonnet; because I neither de- 
 signed it nor bought it. It was purchased by my maid, 
 who, I should think, must have had an eye to rever- 
 sionary interests. If it will not jar too much upon your 
 feelings to sit beside it you might come for a drive 
 with me, and afterwards I would take you to pay some 
 visits." 
 
 "I should like nothing better," replied Lord Walter: 
 at which Lady Spencer burst out laughing. 
 
 "He would like nothing better than to pay a round
 
 CHARITY. 285 
 
 of calls! What a very strange young man! Is there, 
 by any chance, some particular person whom you would 
 like to call upon?" 
 
 "Well, if you were driving in that direction, I should 
 rather like to call upon the Shaftos. Between ourselves, 
 I have set my heart upon getting a sitting from Miss 
 Shafto, and I wanted to consult you about it. Is it 
 the sort of request that one could make without imper- 
 tinence?" 
 
 Then he explained at some length the conception 
 which he had formed, pointing out how important, and 
 indeed almost essential, it was that an artist who de- 
 sired to give a particular expression of countenance to 
 the figure upon which he was at work should be able 
 to copy that expression direct from his model instead 
 of doing his best to reproduce it by an effort of memory. 
 As it happened. Miss Shafto, and nobody else in Rome 
 — perhaps nobody else in the world — could provide 
 him with what he required. 
 
 To all this Lady Spencer listened with an amused 
 look. "Well," she said, "you can but make your re- 
 quest. You have my best wishes." 
 
 "Thanks; but you are always so kind that I was 
 rather in hopes you might go a little further than wish- 
 ing me success. You see, if she were to begin by 
 refusing — and that isn't at all unlikely — I couldn't very 
 well say any more, could I? Whereas, if you were 
 there to back me up " 
 
 "Do you seriously think that my persuasion would 
 be more effectual than yours?" 
 
 "I certainly do. Besides, there are some trifling 
 obstacles which you might so easily smooth over. For
 
 286 MISS SIIAFTO. 
 
 instance, Miss Shafto couldn't, of course, come to my 
 studio alone, and I dare say her father wouldn't much 
 care about sitting there, twirling his thumbs for an hour 
 at a time." 
 
 "Oho! now we have come to the point. Upon my 
 word, Walter, you are pretty cool! Will it amuse me, 
 pray, to twirl my thumbs in your studio? And do you 
 really suppose that I don't see through this ingenious 
 artifice of yours? Charity indeed! If a representation of 
 Charity is what you want, it would be a good deal 
 more to the purpose to make a study of your aunt. 
 Then perhaps I might ask Miss Shafto to come with 
 me and keep me company — which I presume would do 
 equally well." 
 
 "I am not employing artifice at all," Lord Walter 
 declared; "you never were more mistaken in your life. 
 I have a very great admiration for Miss Shafto; but I 
 am not in the least smitten with her. I have told you 
 the simple truth — if only you were not too clever to 
 believe it." 
 
 "To be sure," continued Lady Spencer musingly, 
 without taking any notice of this interpolation, "she is 
 a nice girl and she is well-bred, and as she has neither 
 brothers nor sisters, I presume she will be comfortably 
 off one of these days. You might do worse. Well, 
 come along then; I am good-natured if I am anything. 
 All I stipulate for is that your studio shall be properly 
 warmed. I won't submit to draughts, even in the cause 
 of charity." 
 
 Ten minutes later. Lady Spencer and her nephew 
 were shown into the presence of Miss Shafto, whom 
 they had the good fortune to find at home and alone.
 
 CHAJIITY, 287 
 
 Lord Walter had not thought it worth while to persist 
 in contradicting his aunt, who was not very fond of 
 being contradicted. After all, her misinterpretation of 
 his motives was of no great consequence. The prin- 
 cipal thing was that she should have consented to act 
 as his ally; and indeed he had no reason to complain 
 of her in that capacity. 
 
 Norma, on being informed of the greatness whicii 
 it was proposed to thrust upon her, did not at first 
 seem to be either flattered by the suggestion or very 
 willing to agree to it; but Lady Spencer was an adroit 
 old woman. 
 
 She said, "My dear, it will be a horrid bore for us 
 both; there's no use in pretending that it won't. Walter 
 knows that so well that he hadn't the courage to come 
 and make his request by himself; but if you could 
 bring yourself to give up these few hours to him, you 
 might be laying the foundation of his fortune. Artists 
 aren't like other people. They have their inspirations 
 and their fancies, and when they are thwarted, I sup- 
 pose they pretty generally fail." 
 
 Now, to refuse a service to a fellow-creature w-as 
 what Norma always found a great deal more difficult 
 than to grant it. She was not very anxious to sit to 
 Lord Walter, nor did she much relish the idea of being 
 publicly exhibited in the character with which — as it 
 seemed to her — he had rather absurdly chosen to 
 identify her; but if she could be of any real use to 
 him by standing or sitting in an uncomfortable attitude 
 for an hour or so at a stretch, that was a small sacri- 
 fice of convenience on her part to which he was heartily 
 w-elcome; and she answered to that effect. "Only,"
 
 288 MISS SHAFTO. 
 
 she added, "I must hear what my father has to say 
 about it before I can make any promise." 
 
 "Oh, I'll undertake your father," said Lady Spencer, 
 laughing. "Now, Walter, we won't detain you any 
 longer. I'm going to take Miss Shafto for a drive, if 
 she will come with me." 
 
 So Lord Walter, after expressing his gratitude in a 
 few words, retired, perceiving that Norma might possibly 
 have some scruples which would be more easily men- 
 tioned and overruled when he was out of the way. 
 
 END OF VOL. I. 
 
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