«^' 
 
 wWu. 
 
 WWS:. 
 

 
 L I E) R.ARY 
 
 OF THE 
 
 U N I VERSITY 
 
 Of ILLINOIS 
 
 v.\
 
 ONE MAY DAY 
 
 ^ Sfictc]^ in Rummer ^ime» 
 
 MISS GRANT, 
 
 AUTHOR OF "artiste," " THE SLN MAID," " PRINCE HUGO, 
 "my heart's in THE HIGHLANDS," ETC. 
 
 IN THREE VOLUMES. 
 VOL. I. 
 
 LONDON: 
 CHAPMAN AND HALL, LIMITED, 
 
 HENRIETTA STREET, W.C. 
 1882. 
 
 i^All rights rcserz'ed.)
 
 The expression * last year ' being frequently used in the 
 narration of this little tale, it is necessary to mention that 
 it was written and intended for publication in 1881. 
 Circumstances have delayed its appearance until now, 
 but that * One May Day ' and the ' Spring of Heliotrope ' 
 were in 1880. 
 
 M. M. G. 
 
 PRINTED BY WILLIAM CLOWES AND SONS, LIMITED, LONDON AND BECCLES.
 
 •^ 
 
 a 
 
 ^ 
 
 ^ 
 
 ^ 
 
 QrlLlic 
 V.I 
 
 CONTENTS OF VOL. I 
 
 ^. 
 
 VL 
 
 
 VII. 
 
 
 VIIL 
 
 ^ 
 
 IX. 
 
 
 X. 
 
 V, ■ 
 
 XL 
 
 PAGE 
 
 \- CHAPTER 
 
 ^"^ I. Elle et Lui ... ... ••• I 
 
 11. 'Member for Arch Aubrey' ... 21 
 
 III. The Spring of Heliotrope ... 44 
 
 IV. Sir Harry's 'Pal' ... ... 65 
 
 V. Lady Blanche in Repose ... 76 
 
 VL Who may she be? ... ... loi 
 
 A Crimson Fichu ... ... 121 
 
 A Fair Fiction of Love ... 136 
 
 Sweet Cicely Browne ... ... 144 
 
 What he had to do with it 154 
 
 For Garth and Browne... ... 172 
 
 XII. A Sunny Morning ... ... 196 
 
 XIII. Luncheon at Prince's Gate ... 210 
 
 XIV. Is there Nothing but Gold? 231 
 XV. The Meeting of the Streams ... 252 
 
 XVI. Presentations ... ... 265 
 
 XVIL 'How easily Things go Wrong' ... 273
 
 ONE MAY DAY. 
 
 ^ ^fietcj) in Rummer ^ime. 
 
 CHAPTER I. 
 
 ELLE ET LUI. 
 
 '' Well ! This was certainly not my idea 
 of London ! " 
 
 Vistas of briofht flowering chestnuts — 
 glades of soft velvet turf — a sunset — a May 
 evening — glistening waters far away to 
 the left — an old Palace standing drowsily 
 against a crimson sky — fragrant cigar 
 smoke curling away upon the still sweet 
 air — and a frame of mind in harmony 
 with silent shades and whispering evening 
 
 VOL. I. B
 
 2 ONE MAY DAY. 
 
 breezes, and emphatically in discord with 
 that roar of the city half a mile away ! 
 
 He had sat down on a stiff, straight 
 wooden bench, just where the star of green 
 avenues met in a central point. 
 
 He looked dreamily towards the bend 
 of the Serpentine, and his eye brightened 
 as a wherry shot across the water, and 
 disappeared like an arrow behind the 
 drooping trees. 
 
 Then he turned, and sat facing westward, 
 and a hundred quaint fancies skimmed 
 through his brain as he looked at the old 
 red-brick Palace looming against the dark- 
 ening sky. 
 
 And he puffed his cigar and meditated 
 — not profoundly, for he was young, and 
 his meditations did not spring from a very 
 deep-sunk well as yet, — but In a vague, 
 speculative, and somewhat surprised vein. 
 
 For he had just spent almost his first 
 week in London, and on the whole It had 
 astonished him !
 
 ELLE ET LUI. 3 
 
 While the result — a fit of evening dream- 
 ing at the very centre point of Kensington 
 Gardens — was perhaps the most amazing 
 fact of all. 
 
 But here he was — a handsome lithe 
 young fellow, about three and twenty — 
 throwing back a wave of light brown curl- 
 ing hair, as he removed his hat to catch 
 the cool breeze blowing from among the 
 chestnuts ; and turning up towards the 
 changeful sky a young sunburnt face which 
 spoke of plenty of life, lived out with 
 ardour and activity somewhere, if not as 
 yet among the busy and crowded haunts of 
 metropolitan men. 
 
 Undoubtedly 'new to London' was Sir 
 Harry Wynn Aubrey Wynn, and a pitiful 
 novice surely to its multifarious haunts of 
 fashion and strong attraction, that here he 
 should be at seven o'clock on a fine May 
 evening, mooning among the Kensington 
 chestnuts, and enjoying himself with such
 
 4 ONE MAY DAY. 
 
 complete satisfaction that he felt decidedly, 
 for the moment, there was nothing else he 
 would like better to do. 
 
 " It Is most tremendously jolly here," he 
 murmured. " But not In the least my Idea 
 of London, in any sort of way." 
 
 He looked down one long vista after 
 another. 
 
 From corner to corner of the whole 
 garden his eyes could reach from here, and 
 the view in each direction was different — 
 from the quaint and varied effects of light 
 and cloud. 
 
 The sunset was luminous and gorgeous 
 along one vista — the green walls of chestnut 
 losing themselves In vapours of crimson 
 and gold. 
 
 And the sky hung low and dark and 
 ominous above another, where a storm was 
 gathering, and where a smoky mist lay 
 sombre and heavy among the trees. 
 
 Sun-rays and shadows, light and dark-
 
 ELLE ET LUI. 5 
 
 ness, chased and eclipsed one another 
 along the avenue shades. 
 
 And on roared the city life in the dis- 
 tance, while evening fell, and stillness ruled 
 quietly here. 
 
 What had brought Harry Wynn to this 
 spot that evening ? 
 
 The question is still unanswered, though 
 he has asked it of himself persistently every 
 day of his existence ever since. 
 
 What had brought him — he had never 
 been here before, and no one — nothing, 
 save that curious low voice of instinct or 
 impulse we call fate — had brought or im- 
 pelled him here now ! 
 
 But here he was. And it was silent 
 and sweet in this shady solitude. And he 
 puffed his cigar with a pleasure that had 
 not come to him from its drowsy fragrance 
 ever since he had been in town — while his 
 thoughts — his vagrant wandering thoughts 
 — floated away from this scene towards
 
 6 ONE MAY DAY. 
 
 the different and departed life of a distant 
 home. 
 
 Thus he might have passed that evening 
 In a dreamy retrospect, which perhaps 
 would have temporarily saddened him, 
 yet not practically Influenced, any aspect 
 of his future career. 
 
 But suddenly she came ! 
 
 He did not know it. He had not the 
 least Idea that It was she — as some one 
 drew nearer and nearer to him, along the 
 green avenue, coming forward between 
 the chestnuts from out the sunset, and 
 advancing quietly to where he was. 
 
 A slight figure, with a swift light tread, 
 with a lace parasol shading a well-poised 
 head, and with a pretty, cool-looking spring 
 costume, like a good many others he had 
 noticed within the last few days. 
 
 For It was ' the spring of heliotrope ; ' 
 only last year's May day. In fact, and that 
 delicate tinted crepe de chine, of the faintest
 
 ELLE ET LUI. 7 
 
 of those many tender shades, had come 
 that very morning from Paris. 
 
 He did not know this, of course, nor did 
 he know anything at all about her. 
 
 And he could never account for it — nor, 
 indeed, can I — who can account for these 
 things ? And it is no matter — only, certain 
 and true is this, that as the heliotrope 
 dress swept along and passed him, he rose, 
 all unnoticed by two drooping eyes, whose 
 gaze never left the ground, and he looked 
 along the chestnut avenue, down which 
 she passed away. 
 
 And something riveted his youthful 
 wandering gaze and fancy, — which had 
 never been fast anchored before. 
 
 What was it ? Who can tell ? Some- 
 thing only in the sweep of the soft crepe 
 skirt as it brushed over the bending grassy 
 blades, — something in the carriage of her 
 proud young head, in her firm light fear- 
 less tread, in her complete abstraction,
 
 8 ONE MAY DAY. 
 
 in her undoubted dignity and grace, — 
 something that was most probably more 
 emphatically and more entirely herself, 
 than anything at which he might again 
 arrive, in many hours or days of the 
 common intercourse of our social life. 
 
 For something does spring up just 
 now and then, in our curious, human nature, 
 and in this mysterious world of ours, — 
 springs electrical and quite unexpected, in 
 the swift vivid lightning of a first glance. 
 
 At least so it was with Harry Wynn. 
 She ' came,' and she ' conquered,' although 
 for the moment — as it happened — she did 
 not ' see ' ! 
 
 Sir Harry did very wrong then, for he 
 not only saw, but followed, tossing his 
 cigar away, and throwing his head up with 
 an eager gesture as he trod forward over 
 the grass. 
 
 At a distance, certainly, a respectful 
 distance, but still keeping her in view.
 
 ELLE ET LUI. 9 
 
 It was not difficult. The avenue was 
 long, the vista straight and narrow, and 
 the fiowerinof branches of the chestnuts 
 bent close above her, as she passed 
 swiftly on her way. 
 
 Suddenly, he was annoyed and startled. 
 An object shot by him, so close and so 
 rapidly, that it narrowly escaped a cannon 
 of some violence against his legs. 
 
 It was a small grey object, a black- 
 nosed, blue-ribboned pug, who had been 
 marauding among the sheep towards the 
 Round pond, and was hastening back 
 now to his allegiance and to the fringe 
 of his mistress's skirt. 
 
 Hah ! She paused, turned a moment, 
 saw her favourite was safe, and then went 
 on quickly forward again. 
 
 And Sir Harry still followed — repre- 
 hensible as it was of him, it must be con- 
 fessed — he followed. 
 
 Followed until she had reached the end
 
 lO ONE MAY DAY. 
 
 of the chestnut avenue and was out upon 
 the Broad Walk, just within the little 
 swinging gateway which leads from the 
 gardens to the foot of the Memorial's 
 white marble steps. 
 
 She paused here, and Sir Harry drew 
 back. 
 
 She had never noticed him, so after all 
 there had not been much to find fault 
 with, in his distant and very careful pursuit. 
 
 But it must be brought to an end now. 
 
 He drew back amonof the thick shelter 
 of the chestnuts and paused. 
 
 While she paused, he might wait and 
 look upon her — while she' stood still and 
 solitary there — her gaze turned upwards 
 now towards the golden summit of the 
 Memorial, which looked strangely and 
 weirdly beautiful at that moment standing 
 out clear against the background of the 
 deepening sky. 
 
 A few minutes, while the sweetness of
 
 ELLE ET LUI. II 
 
 the summer evening fell over them both, 
 and the sun-rays lay softly on the sward 
 between them, and the whole world of 
 spring verdure and blue water and tall 
 white buildings away beyond the trees, 
 all glistened and gleamed beneath those 
 smiles of the evening, until our dusky 
 London seemed a City of the Sun. 
 
 A few minutes, while only the distant 
 roar of a ceaseless traffic broke the still- 
 ness around — he waited. 
 
 She stood and gazed upward. He 
 paused behind a sheltering chestnut and 
 watched her unnoticed from afar. 
 
 Suddenly, he saw her start forward, 
 and there was one sharp cry of dismay. 
 
 At the same moment, shrill little yelps 
 of pain and terror rang through the sweet 
 summer air, mingled with loud angry 
 growls of appalling ferocity from a huge 
 liver-coloured, red-eyed retriever, who was 
 worrying the tiny black-nosed pug on the 
 grass, twenty yards away.
 
 12 ONE MAY DAY. 
 
 She Uttered that one sharp cry of horror, 
 and then sprang forward, light and eager 
 as a fawn. 
 
 She must rescue her darling, at all 
 hazard to herself. 
 
 She reached the struggling pair ! Her 
 poor little yelping hound was pinned fast 
 to earth, and his terrific adversary crouched 
 over him with ferocious and threatening 
 growls. 
 
 A moment, and there must have been an 
 end of it, — the little black-nosed victim 
 would have certainly succumbed. But she 
 flung from her her lace parasol, and with 
 ready and unfaltering courage she threw 
 herself upon the huge dog, and plunged 
 her hands into the ruff of bristling hair 
 about his collar. 
 
 There was a diversion — another fierce 
 angry growl, and what the consequence 
 might have been in another second It Is 
 quite horrible to conjecture — but there,
 
 ELLE ET LUI. 1 3 
 
 like a flash of lightning, was Sir Harry at 
 her side ! 
 
 Luckily, he had a stout oak stick in his 
 hand ; luckily he was strong and agile, 
 and as brave as he was prompt and cool 
 — and well acquainted, too, with the canine 
 race in most of its characteristics and forms. 
 
 '' Dog or man — a coward and bully are 
 synonymous," was one of his favourite 
 maxims, and ''a big man or a big dog who 
 can worry a little one, will leave go 
 generally under the smart persuasion of a 
 ofood oaken stick." 
 
 So he was down on one knee in a second, 
 beside her. 
 
 His strong young arm stretched between 
 her bending figure and the fierce upturned 
 visage of the angry beast. 
 
 " Let go, please ! " he exclaimed, with 
 breathless eagerness. " Let go, and let 
 me only just get a good firm hold," and he 
 grasped the leather collar tight.
 
 14 ONE MAY DAY. 
 
 Then down came his straight strong 
 blows upon the liver-coloured haunches, 
 and the poor little black-nosed one was 
 left almost loose and free. 
 
 Not quite, however ; for one moment 
 the girl held her breath. She watched 
 the angry struggle, and an utterance of 
 fear and protest escaped her lips. 
 
 Then up sprung the big retriever with 
 one violent struggle, for which terror gave 
 him force. 
 
 He wrenched his collar from Sir Harry's 
 vigorous grasp, and away he went, skim- 
 ming over the turf In a straight line 
 for the nearest exit with unfaltering speed. 
 
 That was done ! 
 
 It had been a prompt and effective 
 chastisement, reaching exactly Its Intended 
 point. 
 
 Then, quite sensible of some pleasant 
 elation, and with much eager excitement 
 flushing his fresh cheek, and causing his
 
 ELLE ET LUI. 1 5 
 
 heart to beat, Sir Harry Wynn picked up 
 the little frightened pug, who still crouched 
 beside him. 
 
 " It is not hurt," he said, as he turned 
 towards her, " only scared nearly out of its 
 very life. Poor little thing — hush — do not 
 struggle, little silly, you are all safe and 
 right now. Eh ! that is it, poor little 
 beast. No; I am so glad," he added, as 
 he looked brightly into her face, after feel- 
 ing the poor pug's grey wriggling body all 
 over with careful and accustomed touch. 
 " I am so glad. No, he is not injured in 
 the very least. There, yes, Til release you; 
 you may go back to your mistress, sir." 
 
 She had drawn away towards the little 
 swinging gate. 
 
 Her eager eyes were raised to his, full of 
 tears, full of gratitude, full of eagerness to 
 recover her pet. 
 
 But — she had suddenly remembered the 
 position !
 
 1 6 ONE MAY DAY. 
 
 She was alone, and she did not know 
 him — and It was evening, with the tenderest 
 of spring sunsets falHng over the drooping 
 trees. 
 
 And he had saved her Negro's Hfe, and 
 there was her ' beloved ' safely nestling in 
 the brave stranger's arms. 
 
 But still she drew back, and she slipped 
 Into the double wicket until Its low swing- 
 ing bars were stretched between Sir Harry 
 and herself by the time he reached her, 
 and stood extending the grey, shivering, 
 black-nosed, bright-eyed pug for her to 
 take. 
 
 " I am so grateful to you." 
 
 He laughed a bright, ringing, youthful 
 laugh. 
 
 '' I am so glad," he said. " It was a real 
 pleasure to give that skulking coward a 
 good thrashing, I can assure you. I am 
 so very glad I just chanced to be here. 
 And your pug is all right. Will you take
 
 ELLE ET LUI. 1 7 
 
 him ? The poor Httle beast is very fright- 
 ened still." 
 
 She stretched out her arms across the 
 gate. 
 
 He laid the dog in their caressing clasp. 
 
 He watched and smiled, amused a 
 moment, while the black nose was rubbed 
 against her cheek, and Negro crept close 
 against her shoulder. 
 
 Then she looked up at Sir Harry, with 
 eyes clear and gentle and beautiful in 
 their tremulous gratitude, but now per- 
 fectly grave. And with a distant courtesy, 
 which she recalled with some evident 
 effort into her manner, she tried to thank 
 him again, as a valiant but stranger 
 Paladin, for his heroic rescue of herself, 
 as it had been indeed, no less than of her 
 dog. 
 
 The manner reminded him that the 
 scene was in London, and the lady one 
 whom he had never seen before. 
 
 VOL. I. c
 
 1 8 ONE MAY DAY. 
 
 And he recalled his own scattered sense 
 of decorum and of the general fitness of 
 things. 
 
 He raised his hat, and endeavoured 
 with a demure gravity, rivalling her own 
 now, to make her a calm and quite distant 
 bow. 
 
 He picked up her parasol, and had to 
 close it before he could place it in one of 
 the hands which still encircled her trem- 
 bling pet. 
 
 And he did manage to do it all with a 
 serious and frigid demeanour which was 
 most creditable to him, and was doubtless 
 prompted by one of the quick instincts 
 and intuitions, which had made several of 
 his friends in Pall Mall and Belgravia 
 declare that he would be a ' success.' 
 
 Gravely they bowed their ceremonious 
 adieu. 
 
 Silently he swung the little wicket open 
 and shut for her, and without further ac-
 
 ELLE ET LUT. 1 9 
 
 knowledgment of his chivalry and valour, 
 she turned slowly away from him, carrying 
 Nepfro across the ofrass. 
 
 But he had had plenty of time. 
 
 It takes such a little short measured 
 minute to realize that there Is beauty un- 
 utterable In the light of two violet-blue 
 eyes, and scarcely a second is often sufficient 
 to make their gaze sink deep into the 
 vivid reflection of a young ready heart. 
 
 One smile is enough to show the pearly 
 brightness that can flash from between 
 two curved and cherry-tinted lips, and one 
 sentence suffices to declare music, and a 
 thrill of soft meaning in the tones of a 
 fresh sweet voice. 
 
 A voice, murmuring too its unbidden 
 utterances of an eager gratitude, and of a 
 heart stirred deeply with admiration for a 
 prompt and chivalrous deed. 
 
 There had been plenty of time for 
 Harry Wynn to realize that the face he
 
 20 ONE MAY DAY. 
 
 had followed In obedience to his sudden 
 impulse along the chestnut shades was of 
 such unusual beauty as to command any 
 length of journeyings to reach and behold 
 it — or any crusade of chivalry to win her 
 notice and regard.
 
 21 
 
 CHAPTER II. 
 
 * MEMBER FOR ARCH AUBREY.' 
 
 Sir Harry Wynn Aubrey Wynn was in 
 truth very new to London. 
 
 They called him ' our own Sir 'Arry ' 
 down in Stoneshire — at 'the old place' — 
 at Arch Aubrey, a grim old tower, stand- 
 ing down there amid the square of very 
 barren acres, from which his scant revenues 
 came. 
 
 His mother had been Dorothy Aubrey, 
 the heiress of that old tower, and his 
 father had been originally a Mr. Frederick 
 Wynn. 
 
 Mr. Wynn had brought nothing to en- 
 rich the old Aubrey coffers, and his wife's
 
 2 2 ONE MAY DAY. 
 
 inheritance, modest though it was, had 
 been his all. 
 
 Therefore, he had taken her name when 
 he had hung up his hat in the old hall at 
 the round tower, and their only boy had 
 been Harry Wynn Aubrey for all the early 
 years of his life. 
 
 Only during those early years however : 
 for when Harry was about nine years 
 old a curious stray piece of rather crooked 
 fortune had come tumbling their way. 
 
 An old time-honoured Baronetcy, that 
 had filtered through many generations of 
 Wynns of that county, arrived finally at 
 Frederick Wynn Aubrey, — as ever since 
 his marriage he had been called. 
 
 It was a title of honour from its sheer 
 antiquity, and he appropriated it, although 
 it was an empty honour, for he acquired 
 with it not one sovereign in addition to 
 his income, and not an acre of land. 
 
 The title came to him from a distant
 
 * MEMBER FOR ARCH AUBREY.' 23 
 
 cousin, and In the transit It unluckily shed 
 all Its worldly possessions by the way. 
 
 For there was no entail In that branch 
 of the family, and while the title came to 
 Frederick as the direct male heir of the 
 line, the estates and the whole fortune 
 with them, went to the daughters of the 
 last Baronet, who were three in number, 
 and all married and flourishing. It was 
 divided ultimately among their sons. 
 
 Much chagrin Frederick suffered from 
 this, as he once more adopted the old 
 Wynn name. 
 
 And many an angry moment too It cost 
 him, as he watched his own bright boy, 
 and realized, that he would leave him but 
 the empty honours of that fine old name, 
 with the difficult course before him of 
 supporting a prominent position on next to 
 nothing at all. 
 
 For the farms of the Arch Aubrey 
 estates did worse every year.
 
 24 ONE MAY DAY. 
 
 But little recked the sunny-faced lad In 
 these early days what might await him in 
 the future ; as he tossed the quoit, or 
 bowled down a wicket, or topped a vault- 
 ing bar with the brave boys of Stoneshire 
 on the village green. 
 
 Little he recked as he grew tall and 
 active, and ranged the woods with his gun, 
 and fished the gurgling stream for trout in 
 the spring time, or followed a scratch pack 
 on his wiry pony on bright winter days. 
 
 Little he cared, and he seldom looked 
 forward, for life was all bright and joyous 
 for him there. 
 
 At twelve years old he was * Sir Harry.' 
 For his father brooded indeed so gloomily 
 over his heavy disappointments that it 
 certainly shortened his life. 
 
 And the young ' Sir 'Arry ' became 
 master of Arch Aubrey — the idol of his 
 rough, primitive people, the glory of the 
 village sports and Meet of fox-hounds or
 
 'MEMBER FOR ARCH AUBREY.' 25 
 
 harriers ; and the one solace and support of 
 the lonely loving heart of the very sweetest 
 mother it had ever been a young lad's for- 
 tune and life-long blessing to possess. 
 
 Lady Aubrey Wynn was a brave, gentle, 
 proud-souled woman. 
 
 She made a bright, untroubled paradise 
 of Harry's home for eight more years of 
 life, and then, just as he stood most in need 
 of her, she too was taken away. 
 
 They had been poor at Arch Aubrey 
 during Sir Harry's young sunny years — 
 this small family circle of gentle-born 
 Stoneshire folk— poor beyond everything 
 — for people who had position and estate 
 to support. 
 
 For the estate cost nearly all it ever 
 gave them ; and there were dependents 
 and tenants all more needy even than their 
 masters, surrounding them on every side. 
 And Lady Wynn spent lavishly on each 
 and all of them.
 
 26 ONE MAY DAY. 
 
 It was the highest claim she acknow- 
 ledged, and she bravely met It at the sacri- 
 fice of much that, to her own heart, lay 
 close and near — such as her boy's edu- 
 cation ! She could never achieve that, 
 quite In the manner she would have 
 wished. She never could send him to 
 Eton nor to Harrow, although year after 
 year she kept hoping for many a day that 
 better times might come round for them, 
 and that * next year perhaps ' she might 
 set him afloat. 
 
 Once, she made a great effort for him. 
 That effort failed. It cost her a good 
 deal to make It, and It seemed futile 
 when It was made. But — are a mother's 
 efforts ever made quite In vain ? At the 
 time It seemed so, but long afterwards, as 
 Sir Harry's story will show us, this e^07^^ 
 Influenced powerfully the ultimate destinies 
 of his life. To his mother It had seemed 
 useless, and year after year slipped on, his 
 education being still limited by her means.
 
 'MEMBER FOR ARCH AUBREY. 2/ 
 
 She could not press a needy tenant, or 
 restrict an expenditure on which the well- 
 being of many others might depend, not 
 even to win for her boy those glorious 
 years of Harrow or Eton life which she 
 knew were otherwise due to him, and 
 which she would have bought willingly 
 at any sacrifice affecting only herself. 
 
 She did her best for him, however, and 
 all she did was good. 
 
 And so it happened that in spite of 
 everything he grew up through boyhood 
 in a very satisfactory way. 
 
 Nothing could have made one so single- 
 minded and chivalrous, as he was, a clod- 
 hopper or a snob. 
 
 As for literary acquirements, no one who 
 had had the Reverend Vere de Lameroi 
 for his private tutor could have possibly 
 developed into an absolutely stupid man ; 
 while for training of character and de- 
 meanour, it was a certain fact that no
 
 28 ONE MAY DAY. 
 
 boy could have lived out his young life by 
 Dorothy Wynn Aubrey's side and become 
 other than the gentleman of courtly 
 manners, pleasant voice, and frank, winning 
 smile, which, to her heart's delight and 
 deep-felt gratitude, she saw her boy 
 become. 
 
 He little recked of fortune, while she 
 was spared to him in those glad years. 
 And, so long as no one could beat the boys 
 of Arch Aubrey at quoits or cricket, or at 
 the vaulting-bar, in any village of Stoneshire 
 for miles and miles around — he had no 
 further cares nor ambitions. 
 
 ' Sir 'Arry's men ' were known for 
 prowess in many a village combat, where 
 their victories won him fame. 
 
 Then his mother died, and he was left 
 alone. 
 
 And very lonely did the lad feel himself 
 indeed.
 
 ' MEMBER FOR ARCH AUBREY.' 29 
 
 For he was a young king in that small 
 distant realm of his — albeit a king whose 
 revenue was scant and poor. 
 
 And as a monarch he must needs rule 
 among them (living always in that ' strong 
 fierce light which beats upon a throne'), 
 with some dignity and pride ; with a certain 
 reserve also, which, though blended with 
 much freedom of frank intercourse in 
 matters public and relative to the general 
 amusement and good, still left the 'royal 
 person ' for many a winter's evening very 
 solitary indeed. 
 
 Noblesse oblige was a maxim well en- 
 dorsed by young Sir Harry, however much 
 he might love a wrestling match or a game 
 of cricket on the village green. 
 
 There, in solitary state, the boy reigned 
 among them for three rather sad and 
 weary years. 
 
 Then — such an upturn came ! 
 
 It was in spring, and only last year's
 
 30 ONE MAY DAY. 
 
 Spring, while the primroses were just peep- 
 ing into flower here and there among the 
 moss-erown stems and violet banks of the 
 Aubrey pine-woods. 
 
 Just as the hedges were bursting into 
 leaf, and the birds were building, and the 
 village boys were peering eagerly for nests 
 — it came ! 
 
 The busy news, from afar, that was 
 rousing enough even for them in that 
 rural nook. 
 
 There was to be a general election. 
 Parliament was dissolved, and, like a scat- 
 tered crow's nest of last year, must be now 
 rebuilt again. 
 
 And the steady old member, who for 
 three and thirty years had held the pocket 
 borough of Arch Aubrey, was not to stand 
 again. 
 
 They must choose another Liberal, and 
 send him up to Westminster to represent 
 the rural interests of Arch Aubrey in the 
 sight of men.
 
 ' MEMBER FOR ARCH AUBREY. 3 I 
 
 And who should they choose but their 
 own ' Sir 'Arry ' ? Who indeed ? 
 
 Just so it had happened and — here he 
 was ! 
 
 Twenty-three last birthday. Which 
 birthday, having fallen upon a Sunday, 
 they had roasted the usual ox whole upon 
 the green before the Red Dragon, by the 
 flames of a roaring bonfire, on the Saturday 
 night before. 
 
 Twenty-three, and very ignorant at least 
 of ' life,' as that term is comprehended in 
 the common talk of men. 
 
 A fine wrestler, a good cricketer, with 
 no experience of rackets, but skilful at its 
 twin brother, played in the rural districts 
 with hard ball and bat against a high stone 
 wall. 
 
 An excellent shot, a fair judge of a 
 horse, exceedingly chivalrous and romantic, 
 and decidedly given to quaint fancies and 
 day-dreams.
 
 32 ONE MAY DAY. 
 
 The bearer of an old name, and of a 
 baronetcy, honoured, at least, by time, with 
 a remarkably light purse, and yet lighter 
 heart. 
 
 And a boy still, in almost all respects, 
 although to his own extreme pride and 
 satisfaction, a moustache fair and downy 
 adorned his upper lip. ' Quite a boy ' — 
 or so people were apt to say of him. He 
 was frank and ready in confidence, be- 
 lieving, trusting, and admiring almost every 
 one he met. 
 
 Surely the most boyish representative 
 sent by a restless country to the great and 
 much diversified Parliament of that event- 
 ful year ! 
 
 Of course the seat in Parliament had 
 brought him up to London. 
 
 And equally, of course, it gave him a 
 point from which to start in his London 
 life. 
 
 Years ago, when he was still in belt and
 
 * MEMBER FOR ARCH AUBREY.' 33 
 
 tunic, not even yet arrived at the short 
 jacket stage, his father had put his name 
 down, here and there, at good old clubs of 
 his own date and era in style and fashion. 
 
 And to one of these Harry had himself 
 elected when he came up to town. 
 
 To Boodle's. Young men do not go so 
 much there as to the Raleigh or the Marl- 
 borough in these days, perhaps ; but every 
 country gentleman of any status or pre- 
 tensions, in Harry's father's time, belonged 
 to Boodle's or White's. 
 
 So his father's old haunt did very well 
 for him, he said, and was quite fast enough, 
 at all events for his tastes and for his purse. 
 
 At Boodle's Sir Harry settled down 
 comfortably, after his first few visits, to a 
 daily dinner and a nightly cigar. And 
 soon feeling quite at home there, he began 
 to wonder a little vaguely what might be 
 the next step onwards which it best be- 
 hoved him to take. 
 
 VOL. I. D
 
 34 ONE MAY DAY. 
 
 He had the ent^-dey by Introduction and 
 from acquaintances In neighbouring country 
 houses, to several drawing-rooms In Lon- 
 don, that were indeed more recherchd than 
 he knew. 
 
 But he had not penetrated Into any one 
 of these. Nor yet, beyond a miserable 
 and cramped hotel room, had he made 
 himself a London home ; when, just ten 
 days after his arrival In town, he made a 
 chance acquaintance with a youth of his 
 own age, who played an effective part in 
 the little drama of his career. 
 
 This youth was a certain *Jack,' who 
 at this point became his friend. And his 
 Mentor also, for never again Indeed did Sir 
 Harry halt or stray In his social course for 
 want of wise and wary counsel, or because 
 he was without a guide. If he strayed it 
 was not Jack's fault. And what he left 
 undone in the nature of drawing-room 
 conventionality was not for lack of protests 
 from Jack.
 
 * MEMBER FOR ARCH AUBREY.' 35 
 
 For this new friend of Sir Harry's, was 
 a most remarkable young man. He was 
 young In years, but old in wisdom ; know- 
 ing in every social intricacy of London 
 drawing-room life, and doubly knowing in 
 the lights and shadows of all life beyond. 
 
 ' A good fellow ! ' 'A capital fellow ! ' 
 * A lively, warm-hearted fellow ! ' so every- 
 body proclaimed him and knew him to be. 
 One whose cynicism was all talk and 
 surface — v/hile his cheery kindliness was 
 his real self! 
 
 The two meeting by chance in their club 
 smoking-room, spoke without introduction, 
 as in that easy club-room life men some- 
 times do ; and they were drawn towards 
 each other immediately by that curious in- 
 stinctive sympathy which alone can make 
 us 'friends.' 
 
 A strong interest in Harry Wynn had 
 sprung up quickly then and there In Jack 
 Fielding's really kindly heart. And a
 
 o 
 
 6 ONE MAY DAY. 
 
 curious devotion, a sort of genuine enthu- 
 siasm, soon took possession of him for the 
 rustic youth whose ignorance and naivetd 
 inspired him with a desire to set him, as 
 he expressed it, 'a going,' and to keep 
 him straight. These sentiments on Jack's 
 part were most prompt and effective, for 
 Sir Harry found himself taken possession 
 of forthwith ! * Jack ' became a sort of 
 Royal Red Book of society and of Hfe to 
 him — a helmsman, a pioneer, and a light- 
 house often for hidden rocks and shallows 
 as well. 
 
 In fact 'Jack' took him in hand, bore him 
 through in triumph, and landed him, re- 
 ceived and welcomed in the smooth current 
 of fashion, before he had even thought of 
 his maiden speech. 
 
 I say ' Jack ' in speaking of this youth, 
 because it was days before young Wynn 
 knew him by any other name — several 
 days before he realized that he was no
 
 'member for arch AUBREY.' 37 
 
 more 'Jack' by the will of parents or god- 
 fathers or godmothers than he — Sir Harry 
 — was ' Tom ' or ' Jim.' 
 
 ' Jack's ' name was Spencer Edwin 
 Fielding, when he came really to the legal 
 signing of it. But '^/ley' called him always 
 * Jack ' — and ' t/iey ' in club and general 
 London a7^£-o^ form an intangible and 
 occult Power of decree, against which 
 there is no rebellion or appeal. 
 
 '' Oh yes, I am ' Jack,' — call me so, old 
 fellow, if you like. Call me 'Jack,' Wynn; 
 it is handiest. Yes, yes, it is all right ; all 
 the men do it, and, for the matter of that, 
 all the women too." 
 
 He said this about the third evening of 
 their acquaintance. It was about the sum 
 total of Harry's introduction to him, and to 
 that intimacy which had such quick results. 
 
 " Where are you going to live, Wynn ? " 
 his friend asked him on that same third 
 evening over their last cigarette. *' Are
 
 38 ONE MAY DAY. 
 
 you going to have rooms in Duke Street 
 or Bury Street or in Mayfair, or where ? 
 I know a famous set of rooms in King 
 Street, St. James's, if that would suit you, 
 by-the-bye." 
 
 Jack always knew something that suits 
 everybody as a rule ! 
 
 '' May I live where I like," said Sir 
 Harry, gravely. '* There is no rule about 
 it, is there ? I mean as regards parlia- 
 mentary work, and that kind of thing ? " 
 
 " Well, no rule, — no, not exactly," said 
 his Mentor, hesitatingly ; for in less than 
 three days' acquaintance a despotic Mentor 
 he had already become. " There is no 
 rule actually, but it is a very important 
 point. But you may live where you like 
 — yes — at least within certain limits." 
 
 " And what may the limits be ? " 
 
 '' Well, it depends a good deal on the 
 sort of fellow you mean to go in for being, 
 Wynn. A man must affichei^ himself,"
 
 'member for arch AUBREY.' 39 
 
 continued Jack, who went a good deal to 
 Paris, and was fond of interlarding his lan- 
 guage with little phrases in French. " A 
 man must afficher himself as a certain sort 
 of thing, and then stick to it, you see. It 
 does not do to waver much about ; and 
 nothing is more emphatic than the sort of 
 house you take just to begin with, you 
 know ; and where you take it is of course 
 an important point." 
 
 *' Well, I should like to live in Kensing- 
 ton, if there is nothing against that." 
 
 "In Kensington ? What — eh — a little 
 menage ! — No ! " 
 
 " A little house — yes — if that is what 
 you mean. I have found a bit of a nest 
 to my liking. I have taken a fancy to a 
 certain corner, — but perhaps it is beyond 
 civilization for all I know, — probably you 
 have never heard of it in your life." 
 
 " Where ? " 
 
 " Well, I think they call it Surrey Place."
 
 40 ONE MAY DAY. 
 
 " What,— near the Cromwell Road ? " 
 '' Just exactly there. I found some trees 
 growing about, and I cannot live without 
 them ; and there is a yard for my old dog, 
 whom I must have up to town ; and a small 
 stable just across the road, where I can 
 house at least a riding horse ; and the little 
 place is fresh and cheery and clean. I 
 cannot stand the grubby, grimy holes in 
 Bury Street or up in Mayfair — which 
 they show me as appropriate residences 
 for unlucky and unsuspecting young 
 fellows like me. I should go off my head 
 in a week in Bury Street. But I should 
 like immensely to rent a house in Surrey 
 Place — and there are two to be had at 
 this moment. But I feel such a ' green ' 
 at the sort of thing — I am quite sure they 
 will do me. I say. Jack, I tell you what it 
 is, youVe an awfully good fellow ; just come 
 along down with me to-morrow, and have 
 a look at them. I would take anything 
 you thought would do."
 
 'member for arch AUBREY. 4 1 
 
 "Well, I don't mind. I'll go with 
 pleasure, Wynn," said the other, with kind 
 condescension. " You see," he went on, 
 ** I take an interest, a regular downright 
 interest in seeing you well set upon your 
 feet. And look here — a house is of es'eat 
 importance ; that is to say, what sort of 
 house it looks like, and whereabouts it is. 
 It is 'the thing' — quite 'the thing,' you 
 know, for fellows like you, who are their 
 own fathers, and with a certain position, — 
 it is 'the thing' for them to have houses, 
 no matter how small and unpretending, of 
 their own. But then it must be pretty, 
 you know, a neat thing, ckzc and well done, 
 with high art or china mania, or something 
 distinctive to give it tone. For a fellow 
 gets known for his house as much as for his 
 horse or dogs, or anything that gives cachet 
 in these crowded days. And it would not 
 be at all a bad line for you to take up, 
 Wynn, especially as you are not very rich.'*
 
 42 oc:e may day. 
 
 " Especially as I am most particularly- 
 poor," said Sir Harry. 
 
 "Well — as you like to put It so. But I 
 think you will do very well. What — eight 
 hundred clear to spend, and no encum- 
 brances ? Come, I will make you out a 
 nice little chart of what you may do in 
 London for that. And I will go down with 
 you, — by Jove, I will, — to the little rural 
 district to-morrow ; and we shall see. 
 Leave it to me, and I shall not let you in 
 for much as regards expense. But I can 
 promise you this (if you leave it to me 
 reall}/), that Sir Harry Aubrey Wynns 
 rooms will become speedily rdpandu for 
 cultivated taste and decoration, reflecting 
 glory upon their possessor, before the 
 season is many weeks upon its way ; and 
 then, you knoAv, we may g\v^ a. tea-party, 
 and have all the vt^orld to see." 
 
 Thus had this elderly-minded and knov/-
 
 *MEiviBER FOR ARCH AUBREY.' 43 
 
 ing young gentleman gained a good deal of 
 influence over Sir Harry in his first start. 
 Influence the lad soon learnt to resist and 
 smile at indeed, but which was not without 
 its benefit to him in those early metro- 
 politan days. 
 
 Jack deigned to approve Sir Harry's 
 choice of residence, and, indeed, on this 
 point, as it happened, it was well that he 
 did not endeavour to interfere — it would 
 have been useless. 
 
 For, from the first time that young Wynn, 
 in his restless explorations about the town, 
 had wandered down Surrey Place, and seen 
 the tiny neat white houses, with laburnums 
 and lilacs and sweet syringa trees just 
 coming into leaf, he had resolved that he 
 would have his town mansion in this locality, 
 however distant it might be from the 
 spheres of the fashionable or from the 
 haunts of St. James's Street men.
 
 44 ONE MAY DAY. 
 
 CHAPTER III. 
 
 THE SPRING OF HELIOTROPE. 
 
 It was thus that It came about, that during 
 that April — In the prime of the bright 
 heHotrope spring — the old maids of Surrey 
 Place were much amazed, and also a little 
 alarmed, be It added, by a smart-looking 
 masculine encampment which lighted sud- 
 denly there. 
 
 Jack took the thing In hand, and did It 
 really well. 
 
 The prettiest little home was chosen, 
 with a small double sitting-room, and with 
 French windows opening on to a tiny bal- 
 cony — speedily filled with flowers. 
 
 Jack studied the matter deeply for a few 
 days, and then he chose his style.
 
 THE SPRING OF HELIOTROPE. 45 
 
 Wvnn's drawlnor-room was 'dadoed' and 
 curtained and decorated. A huo^e crate of 
 Nankin china was had up from Arch 
 Aubrey, much to the astonishment of Sir 
 Harry's retainers there. 
 
 A couple of Chippendale mirrors were 
 picked up by the astute Mentor one morn- 
 ing in Hanway Yard, 'really very cheap,' 
 and these, with a few lounging chairs, and 
 a smoking divan set upon Indian matting, 
 nearly completed what Jack considered a 
 chaste and high-art style of furnishing, 
 suited to what he further designated Sir 
 Harry's pose. 
 
 " Quiet — nothing flash — not opulent, but 
 antique and costly — that is your style, you 
 know, Wynn. Only two horses, but good 
 ones, — no drag, but a well done T, a 
 brougham for night work, and a groom and 
 a valet, and then — what more would you 
 have ? " 
 
 The valet — the gardener's son from
 
 46 ONE MAY DAY. 
 
 Arch Aubrey, who had been trained by the 
 old butler there in this second stage of his 
 career, — brushed Sir Harry's coat and 
 boots, brought up his hot water, and wore, 
 with much effect, a trim suit — a modifica- 
 tion of the imposing domestic uniform of 
 the Wynns. Generally he was to be seen 
 airing it at the open door ; and as he was 
 the only liveried footman in the locality, he 
 attracted a good deal of attention, provoking 
 many remarks, and exciting considerable 
 anxiety indeed. 
 
 Surrey Place was not accustomed to 
 this sort of thing! And the Miss Prims, 
 who lived just opposite to Sir Harry, looked 
 furtively across the street as they came in 
 from their morning walk, and shook their 
 heads over Reuben's striped waistcoat and 
 the glittering crested buttons on his choco- 
 late brown coat. 
 
 They peered also over their window 
 screen, as Sir Harry went in and out, and
 
 THE SPRING OF HELIOTROPE. 47 
 
 as Jack dropped lightly from a hansom at 
 all hours of the day, — and as they sipped 
 their tea, they hoped devoutly that ' nothing 
 unpleasant might come of it, and that the 
 young men would not keep late hours.' 
 
 '* Not but what there's something lively 
 in having 'jaintlemen' about" — and the 
 Miss Prims said so, thus daintily pronounc- 
 ing the alarming term. 
 
 There was something lively in a smart 
 young opposite neighbour. There was no 
 doubt about that, and so (hoping that 
 nothing disagreeable might come of it) the 
 Miss Prims became resigned. 
 
 An old Indian, going off fast with an 
 advanced liver complaint, had lived in No. 
 14 before Sir Harry came, and he had 
 lately been ordered off to the Buxton Spa. 
 
 He had not been a cheerful vts-d-vis, 
 for he kept no striped- waistcoated Reuben, 
 and he never went out in anything faster 
 than a Bath-chair.
 
 48 ONE MAY DAY. 
 
 Sir Harry's fat bay cob, with sleek sides 
 and shiny coat, was a pleasanter object to 
 watch daily as he went up and down just 
 at twelve o'clock, waiting for his master 
 to take his morning ride. 
 
 And in spite of all sense of decorum, the 
 Miss Prims never could dissuade them- 
 selves, or at least each other, from peeping 
 from behind their neat muslin blinds, or 
 from watching the young fellow, with his 
 fair sunburnt face and light agile form, 
 come out from his little door between his 
 great pots of flowering geraniums, clad in 
 his cool-looking grey summer suit, with 
 rose-bud in his button-hole, and short whip 
 under his arm. 
 
 They would watch him spring on to the 
 cob, and ride slowly up the street, and then 
 wonder and chat about him for hours to 
 come. 
 
 Then his neat T-cart in the afternoon 
 excited doubly their admiration.
 
 THE SPRING OF HELIOTROPE. 49 
 
 For Jack had helped him to find a 
 splendid chestnut who stepped up to his 
 very nose. 
 
 And there the T would stand for tiventy 
 minutes sometimes, while Jack was with 
 Sir Harry, and as the two dilatory fellows 
 lit their cigars and chattered carelessly just 
 within the open French windows, behind 
 the festoons of green creepers coming into 
 leaf. 
 
 The Miss Prims would have much to 
 say in hurried whispers to one another 
 about the chestnut champing his bit and 
 tossing his nose so impatiently into the air, 
 and about the ensign of the griffin that 
 glittered in the sunlight on Harry's smart 
 but correctly unpretentious harness. They 
 had much to say on all this that was daily 
 paraded before them, and much also on the 
 history of all the Wynns and Aubreys that 
 had been, in times of history long gone by. 
 
 For of course the neighbours soon found 
 
 VOL. I. E
 
 50 ONE MAY DAY. 
 
 out Sir Harry's name and rank and line- 
 age, and realized the distinction of the 
 young tenant who had taken old Liver- 
 pill's house for the parliamentary season, 
 and who shed the light of his splendour 
 upon quiet Surrey Place for all that year. 
 
 The Miss Prims were very genteel 
 people — came originally from the '' coun- 
 ties," as they were proud to say — no city 
 parvenus ! 
 
 Antique, decorous, and genteel ! 
 
 And they knew something about most 
 county families, and were able, when they 
 had learnt Sir Harry's name and standing, 
 to give to Mrs. Pocock, the widow of a 
 medical man, who lived in independent 
 elegance a few doors away, and to Mrs. 
 Ricketts, the wife of an ancient and retired 
 naval lieutenant, who rented No. 22, and 
 to others equally curious and inquiring — 
 were the Miss Prims affably able to impart 
 sundry veracious pieces of historical in-
 
 THE SPRING OF HELIOTROPE. 5 1 
 
 cident concerning the Aubreys and the 
 Wynns. 
 
 For the fact was, that from the early 
 days of their most elegant seclusion in the 
 county bordering upon Stoneshire, and in 
 the old county town of Winthorp Chase, 
 the Miss Prims, whose father had been a 
 land agent there, had preserved his copy 
 of the ''English County Families" for the 
 year '31. 
 
 And from this they now culled much 
 information, bearing chiefly upon the 
 Anglo-Saxons and Crusaders — upon the 
 question of Harry's ancestral quarterings, 
 with details concerning the origin of the 
 rampant griffins (argent upon a shield of 
 cerulean blue) of the Aubreys, and upon 
 the red hand and the cross spears of the 
 Wynns ; and on all other suggestive and 
 knightly insignias that appeared em- 
 blazoned, in fact, upon such objects at Arch 
 Aubrey as bear the two family arms.
 
 52 ONE MAY DAY. 
 
 On all this, with the dates of birth and 
 demise of certain heads of the houses 
 down to Harry's grandfather, the Miss 
 Prims were able proudly to enlighten the 
 prevailing ignorance In the surrounding 
 minds. 
 
 At himself personally, they therefore 
 furtively gazed with an interest that was 
 perhaps as natural as it was unobtrusive. 
 
 Parliament was to meet on the 4th of 
 May. 
 
 And Sir Harry had come up a few 
 weeks beforehand to be well in time. 
 
 He had had no opposition for his part 
 in the old borough at Arch Aubrey. He 
 had had only to walk leisurely over the 
 ground, and after the election he had come 
 up Immediately. 
 
 By the ist of May, therefore, by that 
 evening when he went to smoke by chance 
 or fate In the Kensington Gardens, he was
 
 THE SPRING OF HELIOTROPE. 53 
 
 becoming accustomed to town and to his 
 new life ; accustomed, although not, in 
 several important aspects, reconciled. 
 
 Without Jack, in fact, as he exclaimed 
 often, he would still have been "nowhere at 
 all ; " and what he meant by this particular 
 form of speech, in which he frequently- 
 expressed his sense of gratitude, both he 
 and his new friend, no doubt, understood. 
 
 Indeed they thoroughly understood each 
 other from the very first. 
 
 Jack did very well by Sir Harry, and 
 under Jack's guidance he had already 
 seemed quite easily to float off on the 
 stream of this season — the first season he 
 had ever spent in London, and the only 
 one that I think he is ever likely to spend 
 in Surrey Place. 
 
 Alas, for the Miss Prims ! By last 
 May day, I fear undoubtedly they must 
 have had old Liverpill for their opposite 
 neighbour again.
 
 54 ONE MAY DAY. 
 
 But for that one summer, for all the 
 bright heliotrope year, Sir Harry flitted in 
 and out before them, and was their chief 
 amusement from April to July — during that 
 little span of weeks which encompassed all 
 that I am going to tell about his life. 
 
 A young fellow's life in London ! a 
 youth of the jeunesse dorde, as we used to 
 call them — of the ' crutch and toothpick,' 
 as they are designated now ! (not that Sir 
 Harry adopted either of these distinctions ; 
 for I certainly never saw him use a tooth- 
 pick or chew the top of a crutch !) 
 
 " But," I hear the critic say, " how little 
 can I relate about such a life, or how little 
 of its labyrinthian mysteries can I pretend 
 to know ? " 
 
 Not much, perhaps, looking from the Miss 
 Prims' standpoint at their opposite window. 
 
 Not much that can do more than display 
 ignorance of the shadowy depths his young 
 life may have contained.
 
 THE SPRING OF HELIOTROPE. 55 
 
 Perhaps so. 
 
 It may have been but the glittering 
 gilded rim of Harry's first experiences of. 
 good and evil, bitter and sweet, that the 
 Miss Prims saw from behind their sun- 
 blinds on those summer days. 
 
 And perhaps I know but little more 
 about him, and can dive but a few inches 
 beyond them, in a written scrutiny of this 
 scrap of his career. 
 
 Perhaps — and yet his is a bright trans- 
 parent nature. 
 
 The current of his heart, thoughts and 
 feelings flow limpid and clear, and I do 
 know one little tale about him the Miss 
 Prims have yet to hear one of these days, 
 and this little history I intend to tell. 
 
 It began on the pug-dog day —on that 
 1st of May. 
 
 That evening he went home restless and 
 distrait and meditative to Surrey Place.
 
 56 ONE MAY DAY. 
 
 And Jack, who had come down to dine 
 with him en famille, as Jack was pleased 
 to express it, found him unusually dull. 
 
 For not one word did Sir Harry say of 
 pug-dog or fair Incognita, and very few 
 words did he seem to care to say about 
 anything else. 
 
 But they had a nice little dinner. 
 
 Young Wynn, accustomed to solitary 
 evenings and many repasts eaten only in 
 the company, and enjoying only the local 
 talk, of old Grey the Arch Aubrey butler, 
 had grown already tired of club dining- 
 rooms, and neither of them had been to- 
 night invited to dine anywhere else. 
 
 For though Jack was much sought after 
 and much invited to every sort of meal, 
 and although Sir Harry, too, was filling 
 up engagements in a way that surprised 
 himself, the season was not in full swing 
 yet, and there came now and again a 
 gap.
 
 THE SPRING OF HELIOTROPE. 57 
 
 Such a gap occurred on that very May 
 day, and Jack was Sir Harry's home guest 
 that night. 
 
 He had already arrived when Wynn 
 reached Surrey Place, in his hurried walk 
 from the Gardens. He had arrived, but 
 was not impatient, and quite capable of 
 making himself at home. 
 
 Reuben of the gay waistcoat had been 
 well drilled in his office by old Grey at 
 Arch Aubrey, before ever he had been em- 
 barked in the responsible post of serving 
 Sir Harry in town. 
 
 And the little round dinner-table was 
 trimly arranged for the two young men, 
 and drawn up near the open window of 
 the back room, which gave out upon a bit 
 of garden, where the chestnuts and lilacs 
 were in full fresh bloom, and which had a 
 cool, pleasant look of the country to the 
 young tenant's eyes. 
 
 Jack Fielding was lounging easily on
 
 58 ONE MAY DAY. 
 
 the divan, and perusing the evening paper 
 when his friend dashed in. 
 
 Ronald, the huge brown-ruffed collie, 
 who had come up with Sir Harry's cob 
 from Stoneshire, lay asleep near Jack's 
 feet, curled on a Turkish rug before the 
 front window, as if he also had made up 
 his mind to circumstances, and was resolved 
 to feel at home. 
 
 Harry's toilet did not detain them long, 
 and the two sat down to as nice a little 
 dinner as the chef at the club could have 
 served them at his very best. 
 
 A dinner, perhaps like everything about 
 Harry Wynn and his possessions, a little 
 old fashioned and behind the date. 
 
 For there indeed, reigning downstairs 
 in state in the little suburban kitchen, and 
 feeling like a queen suffering voluntary 
 exile, was Mrs. Floy, a functionary from 
 Arch Aubrey, rivalling in power and sublime 
 position Mr. Grey, the old butler, himself.
 
 THE SPRING OF HELIOTROPE. 59 
 
 Mrs. Floy had been reigning house- 
 keeper in the old quaint home for years 
 before Sir Harry's birth. 
 
 And she had taken care of him (espe- 
 cially in all things material and domestic) 
 since his mother died. 
 
 And now, when no flight of boyish will, 
 but the stern call of his country, brought 
 her young charge and master to the peri- 
 lous wilderness of the great metropolis, 
 Mrs. Floy proved true and staunch to him, 
 and declared that she herself, attended by 
 one rough Stoneshire girl, would accom- 
 pany the fat cob and the brown collie, and 
 Reuben and the crate of china, to take 
 command in the young master s new house 
 in town. 
 
 "How else," she exdaimed, "could she 
 ever sleep easy, or feel sure that Sir 'Arry's 
 sheets was haired as became him, or that 
 the young barrnot, God bless him, 'ad a 
 mouthful that was fit to eat ? "
 
 6o ONE MAY DAY. 
 
 Poor Mrs. Floy! What she went through 
 during that London season from the sins 
 of dustmen, sweeps, poulterers, coster- 
 mongers and potboys, from purveyors 
 and family servitors of every kind — it 
 would take a volume quite by itself to tell ! 
 
 But she did her part with heroism. 
 
 She guarded Sir 'Arry's interests with 
 quixotic zeal, and she served up such 
 pretty little breakfasts, such dainty little 
 luncheons, and such capital bachelor 
 dinners too, that her beloved young 
 baronet became famous throughout all 
 that summer, no less for his charming 
 house and well-groomed chestnut, beau- 
 tiful brown collie and fat sleek cob, than 
 for those decidedly recherchd repasts, to 
 which men, young and old, were soon 
 pleased to be invited down in Surrey Place. 
 
 It was charming to sit by the open 
 window as the hot evenings came on, and 
 when the twilight fell.
 
 THE SPRING OF HELIOTROPE. 6 1 
 
 To feel the air blowing so fresh and 
 cool from out the west, to scent the flowers 
 and the summer blossoms and sweet lime- 
 -trees later on. 
 
 And to realize that even close within 
 hail of all the noise and roar and racket 
 of London, such quiet little flowery nooks 
 may still be found. 
 
 It was pleasant, — and Sir Harrys 
 dinners became much repandu — as Jack 
 invariably expressed it — although limited 
 in size and number by the boy's narrow 
 purse. 
 
 Never would Mrs. Floy let him riiin 
 himself in this direction — whatever pro- 
 pensity for self-ruin he might develop 
 along other roads. 
 
 On this first of May, with Jack only 
 for his guest, had come ofl" the first little 
 dinner. 
 
 There was no lime-scent, nor even rose- 
 bloom as yet, this May-day evening, only
 
 62 ONE MAY DAY. 
 
 the chestnut-trees were rich In verdure 
 and laden beautiful with graceful festoons 
 of feathery blossoms white as snow. 
 
 Everything was agreeable too, and most 
 conducive to the flow of speech between 
 two friends. 
 
 And yet Jack asserted often within the 
 following weeks that that was a dull 
 evening, and not what he would have 
 expected as the guest of Harry Wynn ! 
 In fact it was quite the first dull evening 
 they had spent together since they had 
 made acquaintance, and Jack, as he eat his 
 dinner, was puzzled all the time. 
 
 He came to understand it afterwards ! 
 And later, he was often bound to confess 
 that Harry Wynn, sitting at the head of 
 his little oval table, with that bright cordial 
 manner of his just touched with an old- 
 fashioned courtesy that was most attractive, 
 was as charming as a host as he was 
 commendable as a friend.
 
 THE SPRING OF HELIOTROPE. 63 
 
 That his smile and his boyish merriment 
 were as sparkling as his champagne, and 
 that the fitness and grace with which he 
 filled his position generally, were as un- 
 questionable as the menus of his worthy 
 Floy, and as the wine fi-om the Arch 
 Aubrey cellars. 
 
 But to-night — this very first night — Jack 
 felt he somehow actually bored his friend. 
 
 Sir Harry's attention kept wandering, 
 and his interest appeared cool upon many 
 social or even equine subjects on which 
 yesterday he had been so keen and eager. 
 
 And Jack left him early to himself. 
 There seemed nothing else for it ; for 
 there was ' something up ' evidently with 
 Wynn to-night, and Jack could make 
 nothing of him at all. 
 
 " What is the matter," Jack murmured 
 to himself, as he lit his cigar and strolled 
 down the street about ten o'clock, having 
 left Sir Harry lounging lazily upon his
 
 64 ONE MAY DAY. 
 
 own doorstep, and quite evidently disin- 
 clined to do anything or go anywhere that 
 night. 
 
 '' There Is something up ! " And Jack, 
 going on to ruminate cynically and philoso- 
 phically within himself, came to the sage 
 conclusion that It took a long time to get 
 'all round a man,' and that there was 
 something quite beyond any point he had 
 reached as yet, in the thoughts and re- 
 flections that, in such silent and moody 
 moments, possessed Harry Wynn. 
 
 " I thought I had read him through," 
 mused Jack, " from preface to the very 
 finis. I thought I had got him off by heart 
 like an easy book. And here, I am done ! 
 I do not In the least see through him 
 to-night ! What In the world can be the 
 matter now with Harry Wynn !
 
 ( 65 ) 
 
 CHAPTER IV. 
 
 SIR Harry's 'pal.' 
 
 * Jack/ or Spencer Edwin Fielding, as this 
 young fellow ought properly to have been 
 called, was, in his own judgment, a very 
 special kind of man. 
 
 * Rather a nondescript,' a biographer 
 would be apt to designate him, or at least 
 displaying so many contradictory and cha- 
 racteristic points, that it was difficult to 
 consign him to any particular class in that 
 sort of social schedule which authors make 
 up of humanity. 
 
 He did not seem to have any exact pro- 
 fession, for one thing. 
 
 He had read for the Bar, but had not 
 
 VOL. I. F
 
 66 ONE MAY DAY. 
 
 followed It up ; now he went avowedly to 
 the city, but what he did there never pre- 
 cisely transpired. 
 
 He had an interest — some sort of 
 vested, but certainly very passive, interest 
 — in some not very well paying concern. 
 
 From this his modest income came. He 
 had inherited a minute share in returns and 
 profits, just enough — or more often not 
 enough — to enable him to float agreeably 
 on the smooth glittering surface of West 
 End life. No one ever knew what he did 
 exactly, and everybody wondered how he 
 managed to live. For distinctly a detri- 
 mental, and an ineligible, was poor Jack ! 
 
 If people hinted at work to him, and 
 remarked that city life must be most ex- 
 hausting, and that it, doubtless, absorbed 
 much of his time and energies, he said 
 lightly that he supposed he was sleeping 
 partner, for he never had anything to do. 
 
 And only this, at least, could be said for
 
 SIR Harry's 'pal.' 67 
 
 him, that If he drowsed over business, it 
 was certainly the one post in Hfe on which 
 he slept. 
 
 For he was alert, wide awake, and active 
 In every other possible diversity of social 
 interest and pursuit. 
 
 Active in all, and exclusively wedded to 
 none. 
 
 He had manaofed to live a ereat deal 
 abroad, and he talked French easily, with 
 all the modern argot of the boulevards and 
 the Jockey Club dropping familiarly from 
 his quick tongue. 
 
 He had been In Germany, and had 
 learnt to strum agreeably upon the piano, 
 and to blow aggressively on a huge horn. 
 
 He could accompany any lady in a valse 
 of Strauss or Waldteufel in a country- 
 house ; and Imparted immense verve and 
 spirit to an after-dinner dance on the 
 drawing-room carpet by those stirring 
 blasts of his.
 
 6S ONE MAY DAY. 
 
 And also he could troll out a Shidenden- 
 Lied or a refrain from Les Cloches de Co7^ne- 
 ville or Madame Angot after a dinner such 
 as Harry Wynn's, or at a supper-party any- 
 where. 
 
 Moreover, he could play in softer and 
 tenderer strains than these at appropriate 
 twilight moments, and to such sympathetic 
 ears as might echo a song of Schumann's, 
 or a thrilling French love note, uttered 
 in the passionate accents of Alfred de 
 Musset or Alphonse Karr. 
 
 And being in this line he, of course, that 
 summer sang ''For Ever and For Ever" 
 on all such occasions as these ! 
 
 He was a good man, too, for theatricals, 
 — could take the post of stage-manager 
 with credit — if you gave him his own 
 way ! 
 
 In fact, he was certainly a charming 
 guest in any country-house from November 
 to April ; and even the men were forced to
 
 SIR Harry's ' pal.' 69 
 
 say of him " he was not half a bad fellow 
 to hounds." 
 
 He was at all times very welcome in all 
 drawing-rooms or cosy boudoirs in summer 
 twilights or amid the wintry fogs. 
 
 London, perhaps, was his natural element, 
 however, for he was versed in its social 
 intercourse, and in all its social intricacies 
 before he had well left school. 
 
 "What's up with Harry?" he said to 
 himself for the tenth time that evening as 
 he reached the steps of his club. 
 
 '' Has he got into some bother, already. 
 Eh ? No, that is impossible ; I've known 
 everything he has been at. Has he had 
 bad news ? But there is no one to be ill, 
 or die, he cares twopence about in any 
 part of the world, according to what he 
 says. What is it ? He is not in love 
 with Cloisette at the Gaiety, is he ? He 
 was very keen over the piece last week. 
 But no — he would go again if that were
 
 70 ONE MAY DAY. 
 
 the case ; and he said he was nearly tired 
 of play-going already. Or is it — hah ! is 
 it — can it be — Blanche Etheridge ? He 
 said she was really awfully nice after that 
 quadrille she danced with him at the 
 Friths' Ball. I could not let him step in 
 there, by Jove, — I could not, indeed. But 
 no — he would not go to her own mother's 
 ball to meet her again to-night, although I 
 said I was going, and had got permission, 
 as the Yankees have it, to 'take him 
 along.' No, I am out there again ; no, 
 there is no fear for my Lady Sunlight — not 
 yet. Well, if he is going to cut up close 
 and mysterious after all that has come and 
 gone these last three weeks between us, I 
 shall be disappointed in my cheery young 
 Stoneshire M.P. I fear, and I shall never 
 believe in the ingenuous rustic again. But 
 no, by Jove, it's only a fit of the blues, 
 I am quite sure of it. There never was 
 a franker, cheerier-hearted fellow came
 
 SIR HARRYS ' PAL.* 7 1 
 
 up to the big metropolis than Harry 
 Wynn." 
 
 And Jack was pretty right. 
 
 And yet there was somethmg in Sir 
 Harry's thoughts all through that evening 
 which he kept closely hidden from his 
 friend. 
 
 He could not exactly tell why either. 
 
 It would surely have been a most 
 natural thing, if he had chattered out every 
 detail of his adventure as they sat at 
 dinner. 
 
 Most natural that he should have de 
 scribed the black-nosed pug and the pretty 
 crepe dress of soft heliotrope, and the whole 
 personal aspect of the fair heroine whom 
 he had rescued from her despair. 
 
 Jack would probably know all about her. 
 and would recognize his description at once. 
 
 But no — Sir Harry was silent. 
 
 And he only roused himself with a
 
 72 ONE MAY DAY. 
 
 futile effort to plunge with interest into 
 other topics again and again. 
 
 Effort in such a line was quite foreign 
 to him, and it had resulted inevitably In 
 positive constraint. 
 
 What had possessed him ? 
 
 Again and again indeed he strove to 
 explain it, — to chase the soft vision away. 
 
 But it was impossible. 
 
 Again and again — between him and 
 that chestnut, flowering away in the little 
 back garden — there came, as he turned 
 absently from the dinner-table and let his 
 gaze wander dreamily away, the memory 
 of those two soft lustrous tearful eyes 
 turned upwards to his with eager gratitude 
 as he laid the rescued " Negro '"' within 
 her outstretched arms. 
 
 Again and again there came back the 
 same quiver of new and bewildering feel- 
 ing which had thrilled him as he watched 
 her bend her flushed face over her
 
 frightened favourite, and lay her soft round 
 cheek upon his smooth coat. 
 
 And away again and again Sir Harry's 
 thoughts had wandered along the pathway 
 across the green flat sward, beyond the 
 Albert Memorial towards Princes Gate. 
 
 For over this she had passed away 
 from him, and left him to his wonderment 
 and to his memories, standing there by the 
 swinging gateway alone. 
 
 And as Jack all that evening had 
 chattered on to him, making a stream of 
 conversation from his side and on his own 
 account, Sir Harry, (emitting short and 
 unsatisfactory answers,) was forming deep, 
 subtle, and strong-made resolves within 
 himself. 
 
 '* I will go right down there to-morrow," 
 he was asserting inwardly, all heedless 
 of Jack's eloquence. *' I will go right down 
 there, and follow along the path she took, 
 and I will get as far as I can — as far as I
 
 74 ONE MAY DAY. 
 
 could see her, and then I will reconnoitre 
 and watch about till she turns up again. 
 Yes — that's just what I will do to-morrow 
 --and now — oh, I wish to Heaven Jack 
 would stop talking and take himself off 
 for to-night ! Oh, dear me, he has not yet 
 got through his coffee, and it is only half- 
 past nine o'clock." 
 
 This being a fair specimen of the me- 
 ditations which reiterated with a mono- 
 tonous sameness through Wynn's head 
 that May evening, it is little wonder that 
 his converse with Jack, his trusted com- 
 rade, was so unsympathetic and dull. 
 
 Little wonder that Jack stayed indeed 
 only for one little cigarette and had then 
 departed, while the moon was just rising 
 beyond the bit of garden, and while it was 
 scarcely yet ten o'clock. 
 
 He never knew, and history has not 
 recorded, how the rest of that evening was 
 spent at Surrey Place.
 
 SIR HARRY S ' PAL. 75 
 
 Probably Harry watched the moon rise, 
 smoked countless cigarettes, and sat on 
 till midnight, musing with pleasant and 
 dreamy vagueness that leaves little to re- 
 member and nothing to describe. 
 
 As for Jack, he changed his smoke- 
 scented coat for his ballroom attire at 
 Boodle's, drank a seltzer, hailed a hansom 
 — and went to Lady Ethridge's dance. 
 
 If Harry would not come and enjoy 
 himself — well, that could not be called his 
 fault.
 
 76 ONE MAY DAY 
 
 CHAPTER V. 
 
 LADY BLANCHE IN REPOSE. 
 
 Lady Blanche Ethridge had kept a valse 
 for Jack. 
 
 A nice quiet after-supper valse, when 
 the room had cleared, a good many people 
 gone, and her hostess's duty-part in the 
 festivity nearly over. And after the valse 
 she went down with Jack to have her own 
 first share of supper — for she had kept this 
 favour for him against many rivals, and 
 had waited patiently till the moment when 
 she might disappear. 
 
 And she did disappear, leaving her 
 mother to conduct the ceremony of the 
 conges y and vanishing with Jack into the 
 sweet-scented, softly-lit conservatory, where
 
 LADY BLA^XHE IN REPOSE. 77 
 
 she sat down to repose from her night- 
 long labours, and where they had a good 
 long talk about Harry Wynn. 
 
 Lady Blanche was remarkably good- 
 looking, remarkably sensible, and remark- 
 ably enlightened and wide awake. 
 
 She was quite young, but like Jack, her 
 fast friend, she was very wise ! 
 
 From the earliest moment of her ddbut 
 from a schoolroom seclusion into the wide 
 varied scenes of her special sphere of social 
 life, she had opened her big brown intelli- 
 gent eyes, and swept them over the world 
 she was going to live in, and read it 
 through. 
 
 Lady Blanche thought the world a 
 ' humbug ' — so she was fond of saying, and 
 so she often said. 
 
 But she thought, moreover, that it pre- 
 sented difficulties and intricacies in its 
 organism which it behoved all wise people 
 who meant to live in it to understand.
 
 7^ ONE MAY DAY. 
 
 'Society' is not an easy thing to do with, 
 especially in these latter days. But with 
 * society ' Lady Blanche had to do. She 
 did it well. She made a study of her 
 work, and she really knew ' society ' down 
 to the very springs of its action, and the 
 basis of its motives, a great deal better 
 than ' society ' knew her. 
 
 And she understood, too, pretty well, 
 what 'society' wanted of her, and the exact 
 position which she had to take up. 
 
 '' Se faire valoir " was one of her 
 maxims in dealing with a certain class, 
 although, in point of fact, she did not 
 'value herself at all. 
 
 And this was soon known of her by 
 another class. 
 
 By those of ' society ' who she felt could 
 understand and appreciate what she herself 
 really liked to be. A character frank, fear- 
 less and self-reliant, — ready in intercourse ; 
 " easy to get on with," as people said,—
 
 LADY BLANCHE IN REPOSE. 79 
 
 only with a certain air about her springing 
 perhaps from her complete ease ; an air 
 which was apt to dominate the position 
 generally, and to make her associates feel 
 that Lady Blanche was likely to be all the 
 pleasanter for having entirely her own way. 
 
 She was very warm-hearted and impul- 
 sive with all her worldly wisdom, and she 
 was capable of being very fond of her 
 friends, and of such belongings as she con- 
 sidered especially hers. 
 
 In the last category she classed Jack. 
 
 He belonged to her. They had begun 
 public life, as she often said, together. 
 
 They had studied their parts and com- 
 pared notes through the same ' first 
 season,' three years ago. 
 
 And Jack had declared himself as hers, 
 and hers only, before any one else had 
 thought at all about him. 
 
 They had been true to each other, too, 
 ever since. They looked at life with the
 
 8o ONE MAY DAY. 
 
 same kind of eyes. They indulged In the 
 same style of youthful cynicism. They 
 affected a similar vein of nil admwa}^ 
 criticism, and they were equally ' good 
 fellows ' in reality in their respective ways. 
 
 If they were in love they said nothing 
 about it, — they were bons camarades. 
 
 They suited each other, and spent an 
 hour in cosy tHe-a-tete at every ball or 
 breakfast at which they met. 
 
 Lady Ethridge certainly did not approve 
 of Jack, but Lady Blanche would not be 
 interfered with. 
 
 '' Leave me my one little folly," she 
 would say loftily to her mother, when Lady 
 Ethridge remonstrated. "■ Let Jack and I 
 flirt quietly through a few pleasant seasons, 
 and I will promise to be a monument of 
 wisdom in all other points. Jack knows 
 his place, poor boy, and never looks beyond 
 to-morrow for either himself or me." 
 
 Meanwhile it was only their third season,
 
 LADY BLANXHE IN REPOSE. 8t 
 
 and the folly, not having yet yielded to 
 wisdom, was proceeding happily on Its 
 course amone the ferns and oreranlums at 
 Lady Blanche's own ball. 
 
 Lady Blanche took an Interest In Sir 
 Harr}^ 
 
 "He Is so refreshingly young," she said. 
 ** Jack, you must make him give up blush- 
 ing. I really do not think it Is good 
 form." 
 
 So she had said when he was first pre- 
 sented to her. But she had been very 
 kind to him ever since. 
 
 And now he had not come to her ball, 
 and It rather piqued her. 
 
 ''What has become of your young rus- 
 tic ? " she said. 
 
 " He Is at home." 
 
 " At home ! Nonsense ! Where has he 
 gone to, I say ? What has he preferred 
 to my ball ? " 
 
 "Nothing — I vow — nothing. He Is at 
 
 VOL. I. G
 
 5 2 ONE MAY DAY. 
 
 home, probably in bed, sleeping the sleep 
 of the rustic at this moment. I have no 
 doubt he went off before ten o'clock, 
 having consumed one innocuous cigar." 
 
 ''Why, but it is quite eccentric to go 
 to bed in the season at ten o'clock, as if 
 it were November at my grandmother's 
 in Lincolnshire. Too absurd ! " 
 
 " It is — but I suspect true. Lady 
 Blanche, I just want to have a good talk 
 with you about Wynn. I have taken a 
 sort of liking to the fellow." 
 
 "So have L" Lady Blanche flung her 
 huge Spanish fan open as she answered 
 and glanced at Jack over it, flashing a 
 bright amused look at him from her big 
 brown eyes, for his face had clouded. 
 
 '' That would not do, you know," he 
 said. 
 
 *' Don't be silly, Jack. Go on." 
 
 ''Well -- — -," he began, sulkily. 
 
 " Go on about Sir Harry, I say. I like
 
 LADY BLANCHE IN REPOSE. S3 
 
 him, and so do you. I am glad to like 
 him because — so do yott. There, will that 
 satisfy you ? " 
 
 *' * Love me, love my pal,' does not 
 always work," exclaimed Jack, a little 
 grimly. 
 
 *' O yes, it does. At least, * like me, 
 like my pal,' is a necessity. I should not 
 let you take up anybody of whom I did 
 not approve. But I do approve of Sir 
 Harry, only I will never forgive him for 
 not coming to-night." 
 
 " Well, you know, — look here, it's just 
 this," continued Jack. '' I like him, and 
 all of a sudden I cannot make him out. 
 I would like him to be one of ours, you 
 know, — to attract him into our little set, 
 and to set him afloat in the thing for the 
 season, and here, all of a sudden, .to-night 
 he has been going on as if he did not 
 care a hano^ about the entire concern." 
 
 '' Where were you together to-night '^. "
 
 84 ONE MAY DAY. 
 
 '' At his house, down In Surrey Place. 
 I was dining with him. He has got the 
 nicest Httle diggings, you know, down 
 there, and the jolHest lot of funny old 
 rococo servants — a tip- top cook, too, among 
 them. The whole thing Is capitally well 
 done, for, you know, I helped him out a 
 bit, when he was getting It all ship-shape. 
 And there I went to dine with him, for, 
 by Jove, the fellow has already got dead 
 sick of the club. And there we had the 
 snuggest little dinner, set out by the open 
 window, looking out on a trim little bit 
 of garden, all as nice as you could wish. 
 But Wynn himself seemed all in the 
 downs, as If he were already blasd of 
 everything, and as if the whole thing 
 bored him unutterably ; — after all my 
 trouble too ! " 
 
 '' I do not think he is altogether cut 
 out for London life," said Lady Blanche. 
 
 "Not altogether; but it seemed to me
 
 LADY BLANCHE IN REPOSE. 85 
 
 as If he were the cheery sort of fellow who 
 liked to go right In for everything, London 
 or country, as It might come up. Only 
 to-night he has rounded upon me, and 
 says it is all a bore." 
 
 '' Is he In love ?" 
 
 '' Can't be. At least, if so, I don't know 
 with whom. I thought of course he was 
 looking down in this direction at the 
 beginning of the evening, when I saw 
 his sentimental mood to-night. But then 
 he would not come here, you know. 
 And I am bound to say he sent his 
 respects to your ladyship without any of 
 those suspicious blushings of which you 
 used to accuse him a fortnight ago." 
 
 " He does not care a brass farthing 
 about me. Jack," said Lady Blanche, 
 calmly. 
 
 *' Tant mietix. I am delighted to hear it." 
 
 " Not kind of you, Jack, but true," said 
 Lady Blanche. "He cares much less for
 
 86 ONE MAY DAY. 
 
 me than I do for him," she added, with 
 a pretended gravity and sentiment in her 
 voice. 
 
 '' Blanche ! " 
 
 " Because," she went on," I care just 
 enough for him to be anxious that he 
 should go straight through It all. Wear 
 his hat just at the right angle, and cut 
 his hair properly, and be liked all round. 
 In fact I am interested. Jack, and he has 
 no sort of interest in me at all ! " 
 
 " I cannot quite make out what does 
 interest him. That is just it." 
 
 " If he were only in love." 
 
 " But then you see he is not." 
 
 '' But he ought to be." 
 
 '' All very well. But, hang it, one may 
 buy a fellows carpet for him, and help 
 him to order a T-cart, and furnish his 
 house, but I am blessed if any one can 
 show a man how to fall in love, if it is not 
 in him to do it. Or find somebody to suit
 
 LADY BLANCHE IN REPOSE. Sj 
 
 him to fall in love with — if he cannot do 
 ^/la^ for himself." 
 
 " It is quite in the nature of Sir Harry 
 Wynn to fall in love, Jack." 
 
 " I do not believe it." 
 
 '' Oh yes, it is — if only ■" 
 
 '' Oh, please do not you try to make him 
 do it, Blanche." 
 
 " Oh no, I will not. But perhaps only 
 because I know I should not succeed. I 
 do not take any merit for It. If I could. 
 Jack, and if I could prevent your being 
 jealous, I think I should like to try. But 
 there would be no good, — he has no eyes, 
 in the very least, for me, — and the most 
 callous pair of ears possible to boot. I 
 waste no energies, only he co7ild fall in 
 love, and he really ought to do it." 
 
 " Well, he must find the fair object for 
 himself, then. I could do a great deal for 
 a pal, but not that ; for you see, Lady 
 Blanche, if I find any one whom / think
 
 88 
 
 ONE MAY DAY. 
 
 the nice sort, you know — well, I like to 
 keep her just quietly to myself." 
 
 " Naturally," said Lady Blanche, In a 
 composed voice. " No, that is not the 
 sort of thing a man usually does well for 
 his friend. But never mind. I think you 
 will find Sir Harry Wynn will have dis- 
 cernment enough in his own cause when 
 his time comes; and you will see he will be 
 enthusiastic enough, too, without any help 
 from you. But I wish we could do some- 
 thing for him, nevertheless, Jack. He is a 
 nice boy. We do not want him to get 
 bored and go off to his rusticity, and 
 become a bumpkin, in disgust, after his 
 first season." 
 
 ''No, I wish we could get him into form. 
 But what can we do ? " 
 
 " I know exactly. Why did it not occur 
 to you. Jack ? He must have a real good 
 ' Platonic ' with Lady Ridgeway to begin 
 with ; and that will occupy him and keep
 
 LADY BLANCHE IN REPOSE. 89 
 
 him Interested for two seasons at least. 
 Do you not think so ? Is he not exactly 
 one of her particular kind — tall, fair, blue 
 eyes, twenty-three, and unsophisticated ? 
 Could not be better for both, and the 
 position Is vacant." 
 
 *' What ! — Is poor little Cupid TIerney 
 off to Afghan?" 
 
 " Really going to-morrow. He said 
 good-bye to Lady Ridge way at Kew 
 House on Thursday night." 
 
 '' Poor little Cupid ! " 
 
 ^' Yes, we shall miss Cupid. But you see 
 Sir Harry will exactly fit the vacant place." 
 
 Jack was silent for an Instant, and medi- 
 tative ; then he shook his head. 
 
 '' Not quite his form, I think. But 
 there Is never any telling. Let us Intro- 
 duce them, at all events. When can It be 
 done ? " 
 
 " I am going with Lady RIdgeway to the 
 Opera to-morrow night."
 
 90 ONE MAY DAY. 
 
 " Are you ? Then I will try to persuade 
 Wynn to go also. Look out for us in the 
 stalls about ten o'clock, and make her 
 majestic ladyship bow an amiable encou- 
 ragement to "me to go aloft to you. But 
 which Opera ? " 
 
 " Oh, Covent Garden. It is Patti's first 
 night." 
 
 " I shall be there, at all events ; and I 
 will do the best I can to bring Harry 
 Wynn." 
 
 ''And now," said Lady Blanche, "take 
 me back into the drawing-room, please." 
 
 " Oh," he remonstrated, " it is so much 
 pleasanter in here." 
 
 " It is ; but it is past two o'clock. My 
 mother will be indignant, and she will 
 frown upon you when you come to lun- 
 cheon next Sunday, Jack." 
 
 " It is so perfect here. How well your 
 flowers always do — better than anybody 
 else's, I always think."
 
 LADY BLANCHE IN REPOSE. 9 1 
 
 " That is because I look after them my- 
 self, Jack. I do not leave all my conser- 
 vatory gardening to the shop-gardeners. 
 I am out for an hour every morning 
 with my leather gloves, and with my 
 gardening apron on, and snip and trim as 
 I do at home, you know. You cannot 
 think what trouble that tea-rose has eiven 
 me. Look how skilfully I have trained it 
 round the centre pillar." 
 
 Jack was looking dreamingly round the 
 little bower of verdure and sweet odours, 
 gently fanning himself with her large fan 
 (of which he had taken possession), and 
 musing over the picture she had drawn 
 of herself at her morning gardening, in 
 leather gloves and apron, among these 
 roses and ferns. 
 
 To-morrow she would be out there 
 while he probably was still sound asleep. 
 
 ** What a deal of ' go ' you have, 
 Blanche," he said.
 
 92 ONE MAY DAY. 
 
 " I hope so — there is nothing like it. 
 But come along, Jack, we must really join 
 the giddy throng," she exclaimed at length, 
 rousing him up, as she always did promptly, 
 when he showed symptoms of becoming 
 meditative or sentimental. " Come along, 
 we have had enough of it. I have had 
 my full quota of repose." 
 
 " One last waltz, then," he urged as he 
 rose, restored her fan to her, and stood 
 waiting a moment while she collected her 
 sundry possessions of bouquet, handker- 
 chief, and long lace-edged gloves. 
 
 " Another waltz ? — why, I think it is 
 over." 
 
 " No ; I hear ' La Berceuse ' going on 
 now. Do come. Let us have one turn ; 
 the room will be nearly empty." 
 
 " Very well, then." 
 
 And she slowly drew on her gloves. 
 
 " Do not forget, it is Covent Garden to- 
 morrow night," she continued, as he stood 
 waiting opposite to her.
 
 LADY BLANCHE IN REPOSE. 93 
 
 " But I need not come, I suppose, unless 
 I bring Sir Harry ? " 
 
 Lady Blanche looked up with a bright 
 smile — she was fastening the very last of 
 the eight buttons of the glove on her left 
 hand. 
 
 " TJiafs finished," she said, lingering 
 when the process was completed, extend- 
 ing her hand open for a moment and look- 
 ing down into it from Jack's clouded face, 
 — still smiling that soft, playful, bright, 
 provoking smile. 
 
 '* Oh, Jack ! " She said nothing more. 
 
 He took her extended hand then for a 
 minute into his, and she did not withdraw 
 it, but she looked up again into his face, 
 and she closed her hand suddenly, holding 
 his in a firm clasp; and she shook it with a 
 gesture of cordiality and friendship, and 
 without the slightest approach to any other 
 sentiment at all. 
 
 It angered Jack more than it pleased
 
 94 ONE MAY DAY. 
 
 him. But he shruo-cred his shoulders with 
 
 oo 
 
 a resigned expression of countenance, and 
 as she rose then and stood, towering tall 
 and gracious and brilliant beside him, he 
 let her silently take his arm. 
 
 They passed Into the ball-room together, 
 where " La Berceuse " was still streamlnor 
 on ; where a few dancers still swept over 
 the glassy floor, and where Lady Ethridge 
 was busy saying many polite good-nights. 
 
 And they stood a moment at the door 
 and looked In, Jacks heart beating fast 
 within him, as he felt the light kindly 
 pressure of her hand upon his arm. For 
 she did not like to have Jack In a bad 
 humour, and she was not above a little 
 gentle coaxing of him back again, to his 
 usual state of bo7ihoinie and cheerlness. 
 
 And so she had squeezed his arm, and 
 even shaken It a little, with a sort of 
 friendly familiar gesture as they stood in 
 silence there ; and then she whispered :
 
 LADY BLANCHE IN REPOSE. 95 
 
 *' All right then, Jack, let us have one little 
 turn." 
 
 He encircled her waist without answer- 
 ing a word, and three times they swept 
 round the room with immense vefue and 
 energy, — landing just in front of Lady 
 Ethridge in time to receive her disapprov- 
 ing frown. 
 
 " Blanche, what became of you ? " 
 
 " Of me, mother '^, I went down to 
 supper." 
 
 ''Ah! I did not know that Mr. Fieldino^ 
 had arrived." 
 
 " Nevertheless, I made my bow, Lady 
 Ethridge ; but I express no wonder that 
 so insignificant a personage as my humble 
 self should pass you unobserved." 
 
 '' I did not observe you," she answered, 
 a little haughtily. '' Blanche, Lord Ather- 
 ton is waiting to say good-night to you. 
 I must say, my dear, as a hostess, you are 
 sadly remiss."
 
 9^ ONE MAY DAY. 
 
 *' Lord Atherton will forgive me," said 
 Blanche, laughing, and turning to give her 
 hand to a young man, who was bowing 
 gravely beside her. She blushed deeply, 
 however, as she looked up at him, and he 
 bent over her hand. 
 
 Fate seemed to stand ominously silent 
 and irresistible before Blanche, as she stood 
 there between Lord Atherton and Jack. 
 
 ''Will you dance again ? " Lord Atherton 
 asked her. *' I have been waiting the ful- 
 iilment of our engagement for some time." 
 
 "Yes, I know I have behaved very 
 badly," she said ; '' but it is too late now, 
 Lord Atherton. I have really danced 
 very little indeed this evening. Our en- 
 gagement must be for another night." 
 
 And then she glanced into Jack's face, 
 as, with a quiet smile of triumph playing 
 upon his lips^ he stood still close by her 
 side. And the blush faded from her 
 cheeks, and a soft sweet light gleamed for
 
 LADY BLANCHE IN REPOSE. 97 
 
 a moment In her large dark eyes — for he 
 was propitiated. 
 
 It would be all sunshine and serenity 
 again between them, and to-morrow it 
 would be so pleasant to have him ride up 
 to her as a matter of course before luncheon 
 in the Row. 
 
 " Poor Jack — poor boy ! " she thought 
 softly. "It is of no use, and we both know 
 it ; but oh, life Is so much pleasanter when 
 I am good friends with Jack ! " 
 
 He went away then, and Lord Atherton 
 also, and they walked downstairs together, 
 as if there was no such thing as possible 
 rivalry between them. 
 
 They exchanged remarks indifferently 
 as they got Into their overcoats and helped 
 each other to light their cigars ; and then 
 away went Lord Atherton, driving in his 
 brougham through the streets and squares 
 in the softly breaking daylight ; and Jack 
 plunged his hands into his pockets and 
 
 VOL. I. H
 
 98 ONE MAY DAY. 
 
 walked off towards St. James's in medita- 
 tions that were both bitter and sweet. 
 
 " She cares for me — she does care for 
 me, God bless her/' he murmured ; " but 
 hang it, what is the good ? How I wish I 
 had the needful, by Jove ! How I wish 
 I were Harry Wynn, or that nincompoop 
 Atherton, or any other of the fellows who 
 are not Bohemians of the ^av^, but have a 
 fixed position and a title or a name. It is 
 no good. And yet, Blanche — my sweet 
 white rose, Blanche— I cannot give you 
 up. I cannot stand back, as I suppose I 
 ought to do, and let one of the eligibles 
 step in and win. Let us have this season, 
 at all events, and then I will go to Kam- 
 schatka or anywhere else, and oblige the 
 austere dowager by taking myself out of 
 the way. And there is Harry Wynn, with 
 the course clear for him in life. Nothing 
 to do but canter easy over it, and come up 
 when it just suits him to the post. And
 
 LADY BLANCHE IN REPOSE. 99 
 
 not a bit does he seem to care about it 
 all. So the world wags ! In fact it is an 
 odd world — but I wish I had never met 
 Blanche Ethridge on my way through it, 
 or that I had come up to the starting-point 
 with ten thousand a year." 
 
 So that was the state of matters between 
 Jack and Lady Blanche Ethridge, when 
 they agreed together to undertake mutually 
 the guidance and general instruction of 
 Harry Wynn. 
 
 They knew the world he had come into 
 (or so they both thought), and he did not 
 know it. 
 
 They knew what it demanded and what 
 it declined. What it denied to people 
 situated as they were, they had long ago 
 realized, although they said little about it 
 to one another in a general way. 
 
 It denied them a good deal, perhaps ; 
 but on the whole it left them a great many
 
 lOO ONE MAY DAY. 
 
 pleasant things in the routine of their daily 
 life. 
 
 Among the pleasantest were these many 
 meetings, which continued inevitably morn- 
 ing, afternoon and night. 
 
 And Lady Ethridge could not help it, 
 unless she carried Blanche out of London 
 altogether.
 
 ( loi ) 
 
 CHAPTER VI. 
 
 WHO MAY SHE BE ? 
 
 *' Will you come to the Opera, to-night ? " 
 was inscribed in a hastily scribbled note 
 which found its way to Surrey Place early 
 the following day. 
 
 "Will you come and see Patti in ' Romeo 
 and Juliet ? ' It is her first night this 
 season. Send me a line by Ned, and I 
 will send to Lacon and Oliver for two 
 stalls." 
 
 Ned was promenading the dusty road 
 outside Sir Harry's festooned windows, 
 when that young gentleman, with the note 
 open in his hand, came down into his little 
 sitting-room to breakfast. To a regular 
 country breakfast, at half-past nine o'clock.
 
 I02 ONE MAY DAY. 
 
 at which tempting-looking covered dishes 
 and hot home-baked rolls awaited him. A 
 repast such as demanded an appetite un- 
 jaded by late hours and midnight smoking, 
 to say nothing of the walk round the Ser- 
 pentine with his collie, in which Sir Harry 
 had already indulged that morning before 
 eight o'clock. 
 
 Even here, on a hot London morning, 
 Mrs. Floy's careful exertions on his behalf 
 were not thrown away. 
 
 He walked to the window, and there was 
 Jack's one steed, his handsome brown park 
 hack, taking his morning exercise with 
 Ned, Jack's diminutive stableman, on his 
 back. 
 
 '' Jack wants an answer," Sir Harry 
 murmured to himself. ''What has put it 
 into his head, I wonder ? He had no 
 thought of the Opera when he was here 
 last night. Well, I do not mind ; I will go 
 with him."
 
 WHO MAY SHE BE f IO3 
 
 And down he sat at his Httle table to 
 write. 
 
 " Dear Jack, 
 
 " Yes, by all means, do get the 
 stalls, and come here and dine first. I 
 shall expect you before seven o'clock. 
 
 - H. W. A. Wynn." 
 
 Then he went on with his breakfast, and 
 looked out of the window, where the sun 
 was sparkling brightly upon the young 
 fresh green, and he thought of Jack for a 
 minute, and of the prospects of the Opera 
 with him. 
 
 And then, gradually his thoughts veered 
 back to his own experiences of yesterday 
 evening, and he thought no more of the 
 Opera, and not once again of his friend. 
 
 Indeed, Jack looked in vain for him in 
 the Park that morning. 
 
 Lady Blanche was there, and, at a smile
 
 I04 ONE MAY DAY. 
 
 and a gracious nod, Jack had joined her, 
 and together, for at least an hour, they had 
 ridden up and down, the May sunshine 
 dancing upon their bright young faces, and 
 shedding its gladdening fair lustre over the 
 whole gay crowd. 
 
 Up and down they had ridden, bowing 
 and smiling left and right to innumerable 
 acquaintances, and looking, both of them 
 (each time they turned below the Memo- 
 rial), down the hot white road, towards 
 Queen's Gate, expecting each turn to see 
 Sir Harry Wynn — to catch sight of his 
 straight figure, sitting firmly upon his 
 handsome cob, coming up towards them 
 as usual, with a flower in his light-coloured 
 coat, and the sunshine dancing upon his 
 bright boyish face and his fair waving 
 hair. 
 
 But to-day — among all the crowd of 
 carriages and of riders wending their way 
 to the Park — no Sir Harry was to be
 
 WHO MAY SHE BE ? IO5 
 
 seen at all — not, at least, till nearly two 
 o'clock. 
 
 Then, just as a low, pretty victoria 
 turned in at the gate nearest the Gardens, 
 Jack caught sight of his friend, not riding, 
 indeed, but walking slowly away in the 
 opposite direction, along the road towards 
 the Gardens' deep chestnut shades. 
 
 '' There he is ! " he exclaimed. 
 
 " He ? Sir Harry ? What, walking 
 away by himself along there ? Why, what 
 an eccentric he is to be sure. He is 
 beyond the ride. He is right into the 
 Gardens ; there is no good our attempting 
 a pursuit. But Jack," continued Lady 
 Blanche, who had glanced down eagerly 
 into the pretty victoria which swept past 
 them as they spoke, "Jack, that was our 
 pretty girl again — who is she, I wonder? 
 You know the one. Jack, whom I mean. 
 Look, there is her victoria disappearing 
 along there. Such beautiful horses, and
 
 106 ONE MAY DAY. 
 
 her servants all in mourning still, and so 
 she is also, — but not nearly so deep as 
 they were in last year. Who can she 
 be ? I have seen her so often, and I 
 do so want to know. She drives every 
 morning along the Park, but she scarcely 
 ever stops. Do you not remember I 
 pointed her out to you once before — last 
 season, just at this corner too — and you 
 promised to find out who she was, Jack, 
 and you never did." 
 
 '' Neither I did," he answered. " I won- 
 der ; she is awfully pretty, there is no doubt 
 of it. I did not notice her this morning, I 
 was looking after Wynn. But I do admire 
 her, and I must really find out who she is." 
 
 " I see her always just at this corner," 
 said Blanche, as she slowly turned her 
 horse. " That ought to be a clue for you. 
 Jack. She must live somewhere in this 
 direction, for she always comes into the 
 Park just at this gate."
 
 WHO MAY SHE BE ? I07 
 
 They talked on together on the subject ; 
 and as they rode back along the crowded 
 ride they speculated, little thinking that 
 Harry Wynn had spent the morning in 
 unravelling, to his complete satisfaction, 
 this same mystery in which they were 
 exercised. 
 
 There was a directness and determina- 
 tion about Sir Harry that generally carried 
 him fair and straight on his way. He 
 seldom missed a point for want of going 
 straight at it. When he wanted to know 
 a thing he took promptly the quickest way 
 to find it out. 
 
 He was quite determined to discover, 
 and to discover for himself in silence, the 
 identity of the fair heroine of his adven- 
 ture with the two dogs. 
 
 And so he set about it in a cool, con- 
 siderate, methodical manner, that arrived, 
 ultimately, at the desired result.
 
 108 ONE MAY DAY. 
 
 He spent the morning not in the con- 
 ventional ride prescribed by the season's 
 routine, but in a way quite original and 
 his own. 
 
 To begin with, he sent back his cob to 
 the stable, to the utterable amazement of 
 the Miss Prims. 
 
 Then, having got rid of his correspond- 
 ence, which was becoming an important 
 one, and rather an oppressive item in the 
 existence of the youthful M.P., he attired 
 himself in his usual Park costume, — the 
 light grey suit which excited so much 
 admiration in the minds of the Miss 
 Prims. 
 
 He put a fresh moss-rose-bud into his 
 button-hole. 
 
 He slowly and meditatively lit his cigar, 
 and then calling Ronald, the big collie dog, 
 to accompany him, he strolled away up 
 Surrey Place towards Kensington. 
 
 It was a beautiful fresh May morning,
 
 WHO MAY SHE BE ? I09 
 
 and those West End London streets were 
 sunny and gay. 
 
 Troops of people, bound for ride or 
 drive, or for wire-work seats under the 
 shade of the chestnuts, were hurrying along 
 in very smart attire. 
 
 The summer morning was sweet and 
 gladsome, and a curious brightness seemed 
 to fill Sir Harry's young eager spirit as he 
 strolled along. 
 
 He wanted — he did not know what 
 exactly ! but something, at which Hope 
 whispered pleasantly, he might with 
 courage arrive. 
 
 And he hoped — something scarcely de- 
 fined in his heart either, but a something 
 which seemed to impel him with curious 
 directness towards the scenes of last even- 
 ing's meeting. 
 
 He passed out of the hot noisy Ken- 
 sington Street into the shady Gardens. 
 
 He strolled along eastwards between
 
 no ONE MAY DAY. 
 
 the rows of chestnuts, all heavy with rich 
 foliage, all bright with flowers. . 
 
 And he kept on his way till he reached 
 that central point of the Gardens where he 
 had been resting last night, when she had 
 come along from out the sunset of the west. 
 
 And he sat down on the same bench, 
 and puffed quietly at his cigar. 
 
 Ronald curled at his feet, and took 
 an unwonted siesta, reconciling himself 
 promptly to this new method in which it 
 pleased his master to pass the morning. 
 
 And there sat Sir Harry for one long, 
 quiet, meditative half-hour, looking along 
 one avenue after another, down the many 
 vistas of the green star, expecting nothing 
 definitely, but with a sort of feeling within 
 him that it was pleasant to sit and muse 
 and smoke his cigar, and to see her — at 
 least in fancy — coming once more along the 
 green avenue beneath the chesnuts' bloom. 
 
 But she did not come that morning.
 
 WHO MAY SHE BE ? Ill 
 
 And after a while Sir Harry became 
 impatient. He resigned even his vague 
 and undefined hopes, and ultimately he 
 sprang suddenly to his feet. 
 
 As suddenly he turned, stood pausing 
 for a moment, and swinging his stick 
 impatiently, looked once more along each 
 avenue in turn. 
 
 Ronald woke up then, and roused him- 
 self also, ready to follow in any direction, 
 or along any way in which his master 
 might lead. 
 
 And after a moment's pause, Sir Harry 
 started, walking quickly to the right and 
 eastward along the very same pathway, 
 down which he had followed that rapidly 
 receding form in heliotrope, just the even- 
 ing before. 
 
 He walked quickly, swinging his stick, 
 hitting the little grass blades, and some- 
 times the chestnut branches hanging low 
 above him as he went.
 
 112 ONE MAY DAY. 
 
 He reached the corner. The Memorial 
 loomed high above him, bright and lustrous 
 against the morning sky. 
 
 The Serpentine glistened in the sunshine 
 away on one side, little white-winged boats 
 dancing gaily on its liliputian waves. 
 
 Along at his left hand stretched the 
 flower walk, fragrant in this sweet May 
 month with pink and snow-white haw- 
 thorn and with flowering cherry and lilac- 
 trees. 
 
 Away alongside the Serpentine lay the 
 other Walk and the Row, where the gay 
 and brilliant crowd oi flaneurs went to and 
 fro, and where he could see from where he 
 stood, leaning on the iron wicket-gate, the 
 sun gleaming upon the bright trappings 
 and glossy coats of the horses and on the 
 many-hued dresses grouped beneath the 
 trees. 
 
 But the gay scene did not lure him. It 
 had no attractions for him to-day.
 
 WHO MAY SHE BE ? 
 
 He leant a few moments on the low 
 gate, then he swung it open and passed 
 through and across — straight across that 
 bit of flat grass lying between him and 
 the lower ride running along the Park on 
 the southern side. 
 
 He went strolling along, Ronald follow- 
 ing wonderingly at his back. 
 
 He reached the railing along the lower 
 side, and vaulted lightly over it, for he 
 did not well know his way in these 
 familiar regions yet, and had missed the 
 opening. 
 
 He plunged recklessly among the crowd 
 of riders coming from east and west. He 
 passed through them and went straight 
 towards the nearest exit, and thence out of 
 the Park. 
 
 This was the last point at which he had 
 seen her, — for just at this gate she had 
 gone out, carrying home her affrighted 
 Negro the night before. 
 
 VOL. I. I
 
 I 14 ONE MAY DAY. 
 
 Sir Harry paused and glanced about 
 him. Then he crossed the road. 
 
 '* She must have crossed," he thought ; 
 and she could not have gone very far, for 
 it had been late when they had had their 
 rencontre, and she could not have had a 
 long way to walk home to dinner. 
 
 He looked round. Right in front of 
 him towered the large upper houses of 
 Prince's Gate. A little garden, scarcely 
 more than a tuft of shrubbery, separated 
 them from the dusty public road. 
 
 He walked round this, and he and 
 Ronald were strolling slowly along the 
 broad pavement in front of the row of 
 handsome pillars and balustraded door- 
 ways, when a low hung victoria, drawn by 
 a pair of beautiful bays, drew slowly up at 
 one of them, and the coachman settled him- 
 self on his box as if arrived at his point. 
 
 Sir Harry passed close by the victoria 
 and surveyed it with admiration.
 
 WHO MAY SHE BE ? I 1 5 
 
 It was of chocolate colour, — not common- 
 place, easily distinguishable in a crowd. 
 The cushions and damask linings were 
 also of the same rich shade of brown ; 
 and although the coachman was in black, 
 every other point in the harness of the 
 horses and the paint of the pretty little 
 carriage recalled and repeated the chocolate 
 colouring, throughout each detail. 
 
 The horses were dark bay, and matched 
 to a hair ; and Sir Harry's glance ran over 
 them with great approval and admiration. 
 He turned when he reached the corner 
 just to look at them again. 
 
 He turned, and just then a footman, 
 dressed for carriage duty, and carrying a 
 red book, a brown dust-rug, and a parasol, 
 ran down the steps of the house at which 
 the carriage stood. 
 
 He nearly ran against Sir Harry in his 
 haste, for he was closely followed. 
 
 Then out from the wide hall, and slowly
 
 I 1 6 ONE MAY DAY. 
 
 down the steps — once more she came ! 
 carrying the black-nosed pug ; with the 
 same soft hehotrope dress sweeping the 
 steps behind her ; with the same little lace 
 bonnet set above a brown clustering fringe; 
 with the big, beautiful, dark blue eyes, 
 which had looked so deep into Sir Harry's 
 heart in their utterance of gratitude, look- 
 ing straight before her, all unconscious of 
 him now, and with that same absent con- 
 centrated expression in them which had 
 struck him as she swept past him down 
 the chestnut avenue last night. 
 
 But this time she was not alone. 
 Behind her came a stout and placid-look- 
 ing middle-aged lady, dressed in the purple 
 and more matronly shade of the heliotrope 
 hue. 
 
 And by her side at first, and then hurrying 
 eagerly forward to assist the younger lady, 
 came a grave, elderly-looking man, who, 
 with head uncovered, and with his grey
 
 WHO MAY SHE BE ? I I 7 
 
 locks glistening in the summer sunshine, 
 stood and talked with them both for a few 
 minutes after they had taken their seats. 
 
 Presently a footman hurried out behind 
 them and obsequiously tendered him his 
 hat 
 
 Then Sir Harry Wynn drew back a 
 step. The carriage moved ; Ronald 
 barked and sprang forward, and Negro 
 nearly wriggled out of his mistress's arms. 
 
 Notwithstanding the fright he had sus- 
 tained last evening, that intrepid little ad- 
 venturer was as eager to rush into a new 
 acquaintance as ever ! 
 
 Ronald barked, and the two bays sprang 
 forward with an impetuous start. 
 
 The old gentleman stepped back, and 
 the elder lady bowed and smiled to him ; 
 the other caught Negro tight and eagerly 
 in her arms, and sat up and glanced round. 
 
 Sir Harry called Ronald to his heel. 
 She turned and heard him, but the foot-
 
 Il8 ONE MAY DAY. 
 
 man was springing to his place, and the 
 victoria moved on. 
 
 Their glance had met once — met once 
 again, however ; and Sir Harry, quite un- 
 conscious as to what might be the etiquette 
 in a circumstance like this, obeyed simply 
 his instinct and quick impulse, removed his 
 hat, and swept it low in a grave salutation 
 as she drove away. 
 
 Her eyes seemed to rest and linger 
 a moment upon him, as the victoria moved 
 forward, and as he stood there, bowing 
 with a respectful gravity, Ronald curling 
 submissive at his feet. 
 
 And as their glance met, a sweet vivid 
 smile rippled all over her fair face, parted 
 her lips for one instant and gleamed in her 
 bright eyes. 
 
 One ray of glad recognition danced in 
 Harry's eyes to meet hers, and she was 
 gone ! 
 
 The old gentleman turned sharp round
 
 WHO MAY SHE BE ? 
 
 JI9 
 
 then, and for a moment his glance rested 
 angrily upon Sir Harry. 
 
 He scanned him ; he paused ; he made 
 a step forward as if he would speak, then 
 he shook his head suddenly, put his hat 
 on, turned sharp upon his heel again, and 
 strode away. 
 
 The big door was swung to, by the 
 servants within the hall, and there was Sir 
 Harry left disconsolately upon the broad 
 pavement, with the memory of a second 
 vision, — with the reflection of a second 
 flash from those bright eyes, to come 
 between him and all things practical and 
 sublunary for the whole day. 
 
 Nothing more could be made of it, save 
 scan the number of the house. 
 
 He had seen her, and he had discovered 
 at least this : that she was rich and well 
 tended, that she lived in Prince's Gate, 
 No. 73; and that, by consulting the '' Court 
 Guide " of this year of grace and election,
 
 I20 ONE MAY DAY. 
 
 he might have a fair and very direct 
 chance of discovering her name. 
 
 " Not bad for a rustic ! " I think Jack 
 and Lady Blanche would have said. 
 
 All this was something to have ascer- 
 tained at all events, and now he might go 
 back, musing and meditating on his way. 
 
 And back he went into the Park and 
 Gardens again, and it was at that point 
 that Lady Blanche and Jack beheld him, 
 meandering along the. dusty footway by 
 the western corner of the ride.
 
 ( 121 ) 
 
 CHAPTER VII. 
 
 A CRIMSON FICHU. 
 
 Patti's first night at Covent Garden, — an 
 event not to be passed lightly over, even 
 that spring, when there were so many other 
 important events going on. 
 
 An important event — and every stall, 
 except their own two, seemed taken, as Sir 
 Harry and Jack struggled into their places 
 at rather a late hour. 
 
 The . overture was long over, and the 
 Opera was well on its way. 
 
 Juliet had given already some of her 
 sweetest and most impassioned songs, and 
 Romeo was working up rapidly towards 
 despair.
 
 122 ONE MAY DAY. 
 
 For Jack had gone down to dine with 
 his friend in Surrey Place, and this time 
 they had loitered through the hot evening 
 over their repast. 
 
 And Sir Harry had seemed in Jack's 
 opinion, even more than last night, to 
 yield, to the dolce far niente of a musing 
 fit, and had seemed quite unwilling to 
 leave his low smoking chair, when they 
 had sipped their coffee, by the open window 
 looking into the little garden behind. 
 
 But Jack had dragged him away, plead- 
 ing his own promise to Lady Blanche to 
 hasten his friend, and feeling convinced 
 that the immediate acquaintance of Lady 
 Ridgeway was peremptorily necessary to 
 rouse Sir Harry from the ennui with which 
 he had become suddenly possessed. 
 
 So they arrived, although very late. 
 
 Covent Garden was crowded, — every 
 box full, every stall taken, and the house 
 was dim in subdued light as they entered.
 
 A CRIMSON FICHU. I23 
 
 for a mystic scene of weird interest, with 
 soft musical accompaniment, was going 
 on. 
 
 The friends sat down, having reached 
 their places with as little noise as possible. 
 
 And Sir Harry with a thrill of awakened 
 interest and enjoyment turned his eyes 
 upon the stage. 
 
 The scene was remarkable and the 
 arrangement masterly, and the sweet, 
 tender tones of Juliet's pathetic voice came 
 floating towards them with intense beauty. 
 
 Sir Harry had never heard the Prima 
 Donna before. 
 
 His young heart had been quite suddenly 
 woke up, and every nerve in his frame had 
 already seemed to quiver with new life and 
 sensibility all throughout that day ; and 
 now — partly as a result, perhaps — a new 
 and keen pleasure, such as he had never 
 experienced before, seemed to vibrate and 
 thrill within him under the mystical force
 
 124 ONE MAY DAY. 
 
 and novel Influence of that artistic beauty, 
 and under the sway and sovereignty of 
 that incomparable voice. 
 
 He listened in the dim light, and he 
 gazed, — but he thought, through it all, 
 not of the scene before him, not of the 
 meaning of the song, but of that fair 
 bright face which had gleamed upon him 
 again that morning,— and of the graceful 
 form clad in crepe of soft heliotrope, which 
 had become the centre and the embodi- 
 ment of his newly roused sensibilities to 
 all beauty and art. 
 
 PattI could never have sung in vain 
 for him, — he must have woke up to some 
 experience of the force of artistic beauty, 
 had he heard her, even before he had ever 
 seen that heliotrope cripe. 
 
 But the fact Is still indisputable that she 
 would have affected him very differently, 
 — her notes would have found no ready 
 heart's chords on which to thrill and vibrate
 
 A CRIMSON FICHU. 1 25 
 
 had he heard her for the first time two 
 days ago. 
 
 The scene was over, — the tones died 
 away softly ; the curtain fell. 
 
 Instantly the light sprang up in the 
 house and illuminated every corner. 
 
 It was a brilliant night at Covent 
 Garden. 
 
 Jack stood up and turned his back upon 
 the stage. 
 
 " Now let's have a good look at them," 
 he said, and he put up his opera-glass and 
 swept it round the horse-shoe of the 
 house. 
 
 " Do you not want to have a turn at the 
 glass, Wynn?" he said. 'Ts there no one in 
 London for whom you would like to spy ? " 
 
 " No," said Sir Harry, indifferently ; then 
 adding instantly afterwards — 
 
 "But — by Jove! — yes, there is," and 
 suddenly he sprang also to his feet.
 
 T26 ONE MAY DAY. 
 
 It had never occurred to him till now 
 that he might see her there. The 
 possibility suggested itself however ! 
 
 Jack took down his double glass from 
 his eyes and stared, — Harry's ejaculation 
 absorbing for the moment his whole atten- 
 tion in the sensation of surprise. 
 
 '' She will not be here, though," continued 
 Harry, " not half such luck." 
 
 He put up the glass in turn and scanned 
 the crowded house, while the colour rushed 
 over his cheek, and a curious little smile 
 curled his parted lips. 
 
 ''No," he added, half so^^o voce, "she is 
 not." 
 
 " But who ? " exclaimed Jack. 
 
 " Oh, no one. It doesn't matter. Jack. 
 Whom do you see ? " 
 
 " Oh, heaps of people. But, Wynn " 
 
 '' Oh, hang it, — never mind, old fellow, — 
 go on, — tell me who everybody is, — and I 
 say, Jack, who is that up there with the
 
 A CRIMSON FICHU. I 27 
 
 crimson thing tied round her head ? I 
 call that very jolly now, don't you ? " 
 
 Jack put up his glass again and smiled. 
 
 *' Oh," he said in a peculiar tone, " I 
 wish they would push back that left side 
 curtain. I wish I could be quite sure 
 whose hand that is coming from behind it, 
 and lying on the cushion. Is it ? Yes, — 
 by Jove, that is all right." 
 
 And he put down his glass and turned 
 round upon Sir Harry with a bright 
 amused glance, just as the curtain in that 
 box above them was pushed back, and 
 Lady Blanche Ethridge bent forward from 
 behind it and scanned the house below 
 with eager searching gaze, until her eyes 
 lighted upon Jack, looking straight up 
 at her from the very middle of the stalls. 
 
 Her glance and smile answered his for 
 a second, then she bent towards her com- 
 panion, seemed to whisper something to 
 her, at which they both looked bright and
 
 128 ONE MAY DAY. 
 
 pleased; and then Lady Blanche leant back 
 and disappeared again behind the curtain, 
 while her friend stooped a little forward, 
 rested her arm upon the crimson cushion 
 in front of her, and looked straight down 
 upon Jack and Sir Harry with a cool, criti- 
 cal, grave, far-seeing gaze, which seemed 
 to reach and keenly scan them without any 
 aid from her opera-glass. 
 
 It was the lady who had caught Harry's 
 notice as he had looked round the house, — 
 the lady with the '' red thing," as he had 
 called it, tied round her head, — the one 
 person in the whole brilliant throng about 
 whom he cared to inquire. 
 
 And it was little wonder that, in sweep- 
 ing the house with the careless, indifferent 
 glance (which was all that he had felt 
 disposed to bestow on the world of London 
 social life during the last few days), his 
 eyes, all indifferent as they were, should 
 have lit upon Lady Ridgeway. For she
 
 A CRIMSON FICHU. 1 29 
 
 was, even on that crowded night, when all 
 London seemed to be at Covent Garden, 
 much the most striking-looking woman 
 there. 
 
 She was on rather a large scale, for one 
 thing. She looked, sitting up there, as if 
 she must be inches taller, when she swept 
 through a room, than any other woman 
 around her, and as if the sense of her 
 commanding height gave her a feeling of 
 power and of predominance in its very 
 possession. For she could carry it grandly, 
 — and she was so beautifully formed and 
 proportioned, that it never struck any one 
 to call her an inch too tall. 
 
 She was very handsome in the simple 
 details of feature, regularity of outline and 
 perfection of curve in eyelids and mouth, 
 — and in colouring there was nothing 
 to quarrel with. A rich bloom gave 
 perennial freshness to a somewhat olive 
 cheek ; a brilliant glance and smile lit up 
 
 VOL. I. K
 
 130 ONE MAY DAY. 
 
 constantly, with a flash of youthful sun- 
 shine, a countenance, that was rather grave 
 in repose and silence, and that carried 
 evidences in its graver moments, of having 
 passed its first youth. 
 
 The eyes that rested now so long and 
 critically upon Harry Wynn had just then 
 that grave look in them, — a deep sort of 
 sentiment in their expression, which seemed 
 uttering in that long silent gaze some 
 feeling that lay behind and beyond all 
 speech. That particular expression in 
 Lady Ridge way's gaze was supposed **to 
 say a great deal ; " but it has never been 
 satisfactorily defined as yet what exactly 
 it did say. 
 
 It said, — plainly enough, however, as it 
 moved now to Jack's upturned face, — "come 
 up and see me ; " and it said moreover, as 
 it glanced back to Sir Harry, — "and bring 
 your friend." 
 
 " Will you come up and talk to Lady
 
 A CRIMSON FICHU. I31 
 
 Blanche, and be introduced to Lady 
 Ridgeway," said Jack, instantly. " Look, 
 she has observed us, and I think she would 
 like us to go." 
 
 " Like 7ne to go ? " said Sir Harry. 
 
 " Yes, certainly. There is no one with 
 them at this moment, but little Everett at 
 the back of the box. So come along — 
 you will like Lady Ridgeway ; she is 
 very handsome, is she not ? " 
 
 '' You mean the crimson lady, — the 
 one with the red head-dress I mean ? " 
 answered Sir Harry, putting up his glass 
 again. " Yes, I think she is handsome. 
 I like that red handkerchief, Jack — don't 
 you ? " 
 
 Jack put up his glasses again. 
 
 " Hum — ah— a little eccentric," he said, 
 critically, for Jack was considered a judge. 
 He had a prestige to keep up on this point 
 of lady's costume, and the crimson fichu 
 of the Basque or Bearnaise peasant girl.
 
 132 ONE MAY DAY. 
 
 which Lady Ridgeway wore, studded with 
 great diamond stars, tied round her dark 
 shapely head, was quite open to question 
 as a matter of taste. 
 
 It was becoming, and it was original — 
 not the fichu — but the diamonds which 
 flashed among its folds. But Basque pea- 
 sant girls have no diamonds, and therefore 
 the effect was quite disputable as a matter 
 of artistic taste. It marked out Lady 
 Ridgeway, however, for observation ; and 
 there was no doubt it suited her, as no 
 common head-dress suited any ordinary 
 woman in any box near. It marked her 
 out with a flash of light and a glow of 
 colour — the deep carnation tint of the 
 fichu and the diamond gleams amid its 
 folds. 
 
 Her dress was black, so was the lace 
 round her neck and arms. 
 
 No one could say that she did not look 
 distinguished and most interesting ; and,
 
 A CRIMSON FICHU. 1 33 
 
 notwithstanding all memory of the morn- 
 ing and of the heliotrope crepe, Sir Harry 
 felt a thrill of excitement and a quickening 
 of his heart's pulse as Jack, pocketing his 
 glass, at last said — 
 
 " Come along, let us go up and see 
 them." 
 
 And up they went. 
 
 There was a long entr^acte, and I do 
 not think that in all the familiar, although 
 many varied, ways of meeting and making 
 acquaintance which the London season 
 affords, there is one pleasanter or more 
 conducive to rapid opening of interest and 
 sympathy, than that quarter of an hour of 
 the entracte at Covent Garden, — provided 
 always, that quite the right person has 
 taken the chair just behind, according to 
 her opinion — and that quite the desired 
 one occupies the front seat according to 
 his !
 
 134 ONE MAY DAY. 
 
 It was not quite the desired of his heart, 
 according to Sir Harry. 
 
 But still it was very pleasant, and the 
 ten minutes slipped fast away. 
 
 Lady Ridgeway had turned round as the 
 two friends had entered her box, while 
 Blanche, — after a glance and a smile of 
 understanding towards Jack, — had turned 
 quite away. 
 
 Lady Ridgeway had accepted Sir Harry's 
 presentation to her with rather a grave 
 bow;- but she had looked at him from 
 under her drooping lids with a steady gaze 
 straight into his frank blue eyes. 
 
 And the gaze had had a light and a 
 fire, smouldering sofdy somewhere in its 
 shadowy depths — a gleam that seemed to 
 quiver for an instant with a curious sensa- 
 tion into Harry's heart indeed, and which 
 made the colour rush over his sunburnt 
 cheek as he dropped into the seat behind 
 her shoulder.
 
 A CRIMSON FICHU. 1 35 
 
 Jack came to anchor instantly, without 
 hesitation or asking, in the chair just oppo- 
 site to him, behind Lady Blanche. 
 
 And poor little Everett — who was only 
 a third favourite adopted for want of a 
 better, and only pro tern. — received an 
 emphatic dismissal for that evening, and 
 went down rather sulkily into the stalls.
 
 136 ONE MAY DAY. 
 
 CHAPTER VIII. 
 
 A FAIR FICTION OF LOVE. 
 
 *' I AM SO glad to know you at last',' 
 whispered Lady RIdgeway, with a world 
 of untold meaning In her voice. 
 
 *' Me ! " exclaimed Sir Harry. 
 
 She did not continue to speak, but gazed 
 at him gravely for a second, turning round 
 In her seat so as to look straight over her 
 shoulder Into his bending face. 
 
 She threw open her large fan also, and 
 put It up between Jack and herself, and 
 bent her head behind It, as If her commu- 
 nication to Sir Harry was of a very con- 
 fidential kind. 
 
 *' Very kind of you," he said presently ;
 
 A FAIR FICTION OF LOVE. 1 37 
 
 ''awfully good of you, Lady Ridgeway, I 
 am sure." 
 
 " I have seen you so often riding past 
 my carriage In the morning, and I have so 
 longed to bow and make you stop. What 
 a conventional world we live In, Sir Harry ! 
 No matter how strong may have been our 
 impulse of mutual sympathy and attraction, 
 we have had to wait for a solemn intro- 
 duction before we could even smile or 
 bow." 
 
 " Yes, it is all a horrid bore," said Harry, 
 pausing a moment to recover his astonish- 
 ment, and wondering vaguely In his own 
 mind when his part in this mutual sym- 
 pathy of Lady Ridgeway s had come into 
 Hfe ! 
 
 And then — taking his heart In his hand, 
 with a sort of native courage, just as he 
 had often gathered up his reins when out 
 hunting and " gone right in for the thing, 
 you know," as he afterwards said — he up-
 
 138 ONE MAY DAY. 
 
 lifted his gaze, which had fallen in some 
 confusion upon the top of his opera hat, 
 and he turned it full upon Lady Ridgeway s 
 beautiful expressive countenance instead. 
 
 He gave her back glance for glance, 
 smile for smile, with a glowing cheek and 
 fast beating heart, indeed, but with a 
 youthful temerity and a ready eagerness 
 which proclaimed him to be remarkably 
 apt and promising, if she wished him to 
 learn a part. 
 
 And that was just what she did wish of 
 him. 
 
 Not much — nothing real, nothing actual, 
 nothing profound — only to pick up the 
 manner and learn the little part, and play 
 with her — throughout this, and perhaps 
 two or three other seasons to come — at 
 that fanciful, frothy comedy of false senti- 
 ment in which she was fond of spending 
 her life. 
 
 The music burst forth, and the curtain
 
 A FAIR FICTION OF LOVE. 1 39 
 
 rose again, and from far back upon the 
 stage, came those thrilHng passionate tones 
 of the Prima Donna in Juliet's last agonies 
 of love and pain. 
 
 And Lady Ridgeway leant back in her 
 chair, pushing it aside a little until she was 
 almost beside Sir Harry as he leant for- 
 ward eagerly to see and to listen, and as 
 he held his breath in rapt silence and 
 gazed towards the stage. 
 
 Lady Ridgeway sighed a deep pathetic 
 sigh, the black folds of lace across her 
 bosom heaving and quivering softly with 
 the intensity of her emotion — so hardly 
 suppressed. 
 
 And Harry glanced round upon her, and 
 his heart did indeed then thrill with 
 sympathy. 
 
 For her grand dark eyes met his, scin- 
 tillating and gleaming as if full of tears, 
 and the whole beautiful face quivered 
 with a force of soft tender feeling which
 
 140 ONE MAY DAY. 
 
 it was not easy to realize was entirely 
 untrue. 
 
 " It is wonderfully nice of her," he 
 thought dimly to himself; "very nice of 
 her to feel it all so much. And I dare say 
 she is just the sort of woman the world 
 would tell you can feel nothing." Then 
 aloud, or rather, very low, he whispered, 
 " Music does affect you, Lady Ridgeway, 
 there is no need to ask that, at all events." 
 
 '' Does it not affect you ? " she mur- 
 mured, bending her shoulder a little to- 
 wards him, but looking away from him 
 towards the stage, as if overcome with her 
 sensibility. 
 
 '' Yes, this does — by Jove, it is lovely. 
 But it is not good for you, I do not a bit 
 believe it is, to feel like that." 
 
 " I feel everything. Can one help it .^ 
 Is it not the price one pays ? Would one 
 be otherwise ? Would you like me better 
 if I had no sensibility, Sir Harry ?"
 
 A FAIR FICTION OF LOVE. I4I 
 
 '' I think I should Hke you, any way," 
 Harry promptly and eagerly said. 
 
 And Lady Ridgeway smiled a tender 
 little playful smile, as if his boyish way 
 amused and also touched her, and she 
 laid her fan for a moment gently upon 
 his hand as if to silence him. 
 
 Not — if she would have let him look 
 down at the stage and listen — that he had 
 any special inclination to speak ! But she 
 had more to say to him. 
 
 She waited a second, however, looking 
 away from him with that tender little sad 
 smile still quivering on her lips, and in her 
 heavy eyes. And she let her fan rest on 
 his hand until his part occurred to him 
 again, and he promptly took it — the fan — 
 and then, for a moment, also the long- 
 gloved hand. 
 
 But that was too audacious, and was 
 instantly suppressed. The hand was with- 
 drawn from his after according him one 
 small lingering squeeze.
 
 142 ONE MAY DAY. 
 
 '' Silly boy ! What an impulsive thing it 
 is!" she murmured. ''Now do not be 
 foolish, Sir Harry. Let us listen to that 
 heavenly music, and do look at the stage." 
 
 " But I do not want to look at it," he 
 said 
 
 And then she turned and laughed out 
 right at him. 
 
 Even she was astonished at the prompti- 
 tude with which he had learnt his lesson. 
 And Sir Harry blushed and laughed then 
 also again. 
 
 He had a quaint feeling stirring oddly 
 within him somewhere, that — ' it was all 
 very absurd ! ' 
 
 Certainly he did not in the least mind 
 looking at Lady Ridgeway, if she wished 
 it, for she was very beautiful to look upon, 
 and she was really ' very kind.' 
 
 And he would have been glad enough, 
 and thought it all 'great fun,' perhaps, only 
 that Patti was singing something so soft
 
 A FAIR FICTION OF LOVE. 1 43 
 
 and exquisite just then, that it brought 
 quite Other thoughts and feeHngs into his 
 head again, and he really wanted — notwith- 
 standing what he had said — he really 
 wanted to be quite still and quiet for the 
 moment, and to think once more of the 
 shades of Kensington Gardens, and of that 
 heliotrope dress.
 
 144 ^^^ MAY ^AY- 
 
 CHAPTER IX. 
 
 SWEET CICELY BROWNE. 
 
 The heliotrope crepe was not worn in the 
 evening. 
 
 It had been changed for a soft, creamy- 
 hued Indian silk, when Cicely Browne, 
 carrying Negro, the beloved, folded close 
 in her arms, passed up the broad, thick- 
 carpeted staircase at Prince's Gate, one 
 evening about a week after that night on 
 which Sir Harry sat behind Lady Ridge- 
 way's shoulder at Covent Garden, and 
 learnt his first youthful lesson in making 
 fictitious love. 
 
 Parliament had opened in the interval, 
 and to-night Sir Harry was in his place 
 down there.
 
 SWEET CICELY BROWNE. 1 45 
 
 It was late. Cicely had taken her usual 
 turn among the chestnuts, and had come 
 in as usual to a late dinner. She had 
 been well chaperoned on this occasion, for, 
 be it said, it was merely by an exceptional 
 and fortuitous accident that she was dis- 
 covered of Sir Harry Wynn, wandering on 
 that soft May evening along the chestnut 
 alleys alone. 
 
 This evening she had been, as was her 
 wont, well guarded and safely chaperoned 
 as she took her customary ramble between 
 six and seven o'clock. 
 
 Now, as she walked up the stairs, her 
 slight form and her fair head, bending 
 tenderly over Negro's black muzzle, were 
 lit up by the lustre of a Venetian lamp 
 which, hanging from the cupola of the 
 lofty ceiling of the hall, illuminated with a 
 rich soft glow the handsome proportions 
 of the broad staircase and gallery, show- 
 ing the delicate tinting of the walls and 
 
 VOL. I. L
 
 146 ONE MAY DAY. 
 
 ceilings, as well as the graceful proportions 
 of a row of tall Corinthian pillars which 
 supported the staircase, and of some fine 
 pieces of statuary which filled the alcoves. 
 
 It was a beautiful modern London house, 
 and — It was Cicely Browne's very solitary 
 home. 
 
 It contained her, and Negro, and also 
 Belinda East — for so called was that stout 
 and placid-looking lady, whom Sir Harry 
 had first beheld taking her seat in the 
 victoria that very morning, as it drove from 
 the door. 
 
 Belinda, Cicely, and Negro, in the midst 
 of busy, noisy, self-centred, and self- 
 interested modern London, had long dwelt, 
 all three together, in this huge, quiet house, 
 in an old world seclusion, which in modern 
 times is rare. 
 
 They were related — that is to say, Be- 
 linda and Cicely were ; and they were 
 mutually devoted the one to the other
 
 SWEET CICELY BROWNE. 1 47 
 
 with a curious bond of understanding 
 and friendship, which far surpassed any 
 claims their degree of relationship might 
 imply. One was an heiress, the other her 
 almost penniless friend ! 
 
 Which was which ? Ah ! that was the 
 point exactly. It was the pride of Cicely's 
 heart to inform you that no one had ever 
 been able to discover. People never 
 found out unassisted which was the heiress, 
 and almost everybody quite invariably 
 guessed wrong. 
 
 For when they travelled together, — 
 which they had done occasionally, just In 
 these latter days — Belinda was taken 
 always for the majestic millionaire, and 
 the slim and quaint mannered Cicely for 
 her little pleasant friend. 
 
 And nothing ever made Cicely so nearly 
 angry as the discovery, almost invariably 
 made, that Belinda had herself told upon 
 them, and had enlightened some new
 
 148 ONE MAY DAY. 
 
 acquaintance as to the position in which 
 they really mutually stood. 
 
 Dear bright-eyed, quaint-souled Cicely, 
 certainly her money was the last thing one 
 could ever think of in connection with her. 
 All the dignity and prestige which it might 
 imply or carry, seemed reflected upon 
 Belinda East alone. 
 
 Up the stairs this evening went Cicely, 
 with a slow, lagging step. Her attention 
 seemingly absorbed in Negro, her head 
 bent over him, her cheek lying upon his 
 soft grey coat, and her ears unheeding the 
 run of general conversation which Belinda 
 kept on behind her, as that portentous 
 lady sailed, in her own distinctive style, up- 
 stairs. 
 
 It was a hot evening, although already 
 dark. 
 
 There was a stillness and a thundery 
 heaviness in the air, and in here — in to the
 
 SWEET CICELY BROWNE. 1 49 
 
 softly lit hall, and up the broad staircase, 
 and throughout the whole huge house — that 
 sense of a curious stillness seemed to pene- 
 trate and to pervade. 
 
 There was, indeed, a silence and a quiet 
 solitude about that house which made 
 itself actually felt — even now, as you 
 passed through the hall and up the stair- 
 case with Cicely and her sleeping pug. 
 
 A stillness which, if it was the usual and 
 chronic state of things, accounted, perhaps, 
 more than anything else for that aspect of 
 abstraction, of concentrated thought, and 
 of indifferent self-possession which, resting 
 upon Cicely's young face, had struck and 
 attracted Sir Harry Wynn with a curious 
 interest, in that one quick glance towards 
 her as she had passed him down the chest- 
 nut glade. 
 
 And it was the chronic condition of 
 things. It had been a very still home, 
 indeed, throughout all Cicely's knowledge
 
 150 ONE MAY DAY. 
 
 of it. She had herself been the one and 
 only young thing in it as long as she could 
 remember at all. 
 
 She had had an old father — very old, 
 considering his daughters years. And 
 she had no mother to remember, no sweet 
 and softening recollections to abide with 
 her from her early days. 
 
 That tardy marriage of her father, Mr. 
 Geoffry Browne, had been a freak which 
 had seized him quite unaccountably to 
 himself in the course of a foreign tour 
 which he had undertaken very late in life. 
 A tour which it had struck him to make 
 when his fortune was becoming important, 
 and he himself a marked man, and his 
 home ready for any mistress he might 
 choose. 
 
 Fate led him on this tour — simply, as it 
 would seem, to quicken life within his heart, 
 and then to pluck it from him again. For 
 his wife, who had been a youthful, brown-
 
 SWEET CICELY BROWNE. I51 
 
 haired English-born gentlewoman (albeit 
 that he had met her abroad), died before 
 the fated tour was over, and it was only 
 her one little motherless infant whom he 
 had to bring home to England along with 
 him — in care of Belinda East. 
 
 It was, as it happened, the only freak of 
 fancy which ever visited Geoffry Browne. 
 He never travelled again. He returned 
 to his old ways of sombre solitude, pulled 
 down the blinds of his newly furnished 
 drawing-room, and betook himself to the 
 great leather library chair. 
 
 And thus he spent the twenty years, 
 which went by of Cicely's young, eager life, 
 before he thought much more of or for her, 
 than that she was a pleasant, though un- 
 disturbing, element in his routine existence, 
 amusing occasionally certain evening and 
 after-dinner hours. 
 
 An upper story was appointed for her 
 use and Belinda's as soon as they all
 
 152 ONE MAY DAY. 
 
 returned from abroad. And this upper 
 story became her " childhood's home." 
 
 Hers had been Indeed a curious young, 
 lonely life. 
 
 There when indoors, and generally in 
 the Kensington Gardens when they went 
 out, she had spent weeks and months, 
 and indeed years, which all rolled on and 
 on, unconsciously, as it would seem, to her 
 strange old father, although working many 
 subtle inward changes in Cicely and bring- 
 ing gradually much development to her. 
 
 Curious, silently evolving and smoothly 
 fleeting years, which seemed to promise 
 moreover, as she reached her twentieth 
 birthday, to go rolling on with equal 
 monotony still. 
 
 But just then, suddenly, a change came, 
 all unexpectedly — her father died. He 
 was gone^ — having passed away quite 
 quietly without one warning word, in the 
 grey twilight of a summer s evening, about
 
 SWEET CICELY BROWNE. I 53 
 
 a year ago. He had been ailing ; but no 
 one knew, until all was over, that the disease 
 about which he had said so little, would 
 terminate suddenly and fatally in that sort 
 of way. 
 
 It had thus terminated however — and 
 on that summer evening Cicely had been 
 left alone in the world save for Belinda 
 East ; — alone in the great house with the 
 dim, darkened drawing-rooms. Alone with 
 all the future of her young life untold and 
 unread ; and quite unconscious of anything 
 the future might contain for her, until 
 Richard Garth came and gloomily informed 
 her that she was heiress to many thousands 
 a year.
 
 154 ONE MAY DAY. 
 
 CHAPTER X. 
 
 WHAT HE HAD TO DO WTTH IT. 
 
 Richard Garth had played a prominent 
 part in all the recollections of Cicely's 
 childhood, and he stood ominously before 
 her as a powerful guardian of the destinies 
 of her bright girlhood now. He had been 
 her father's partner and business instru- 
 ment — scarcely to be called his friend. 
 For Geoffry Browne had not been given 
 to friendship, he had had small belief, in 
 fact, in the kind of thing. 
 
 The two men had been united simply by 
 mutual interest, and by the power of a 
 strong over a weaker mind. They had 
 laboured hand in hand together (speaking
 
 WHAT HE HAD TO DO WITH IT. 1 55 
 
 quite commercially) as they climbed up a 
 dreary and monotonous pathway of success. 
 GeofFry Browne had been the thinker and 
 the astute schemer of schemes. In his quiet 
 way he had been a strong man, with force 
 to command as he had quickness to con- 
 ceive. His schemes and plans and devices 
 were the mainspring of the successes of 
 the house of Garth and Browne. 
 
 Richard Garth had been the man of 
 action. And although he was the elder in 
 commercial life, and although the firm had 
 begun with him, he was in fact but a 
 machine, working under the influence of 
 his partner's more acute and far-reaching 
 mind. Both worshipped the golden idol 
 together. Browne in the reserved seclusion 
 of his library, glorying in silence over the 
 magnitude of his successful enterprises, 
 and over the fame and the standing of the 
 firm. 
 
 They had worshipped together the
 
 156 ONE MAY DAY. 
 
 ' Firm of Garth and Browne/ and this was 
 the one bond of union between them. They 
 served each other's purposes, advanced 
 each other's Interests, and mutually agreed 
 to centre all their efforts and energies In 
 the exaltation of that soulless, lifeless thing 
 they called the ' House.' 
 
 The ' Firm of Garth and Browne,' and 
 all Its attendant glory, was the single 
 object for which one thought In silence, 
 and the other laboured, among the crowded 
 haunts of men. 
 
 Mr. Geoffry Browne had had about 
 him a certain degree of Interest quite apart 
 from his wealth and his love of Increasing 
 It. He had had even considerable mental 
 attractions. He had amassed books, which 
 he read ; and he bought expensive things, 
 when they seemed worth the money ; and 
 he had collected china and other articles 
 de vertu in this big, half-darkened, half- 
 empty house.
 
 WHAT HE HAD TO DO WITH IT. 1 57 
 
 He had been capable, too, of that one 
 short passionate romance out there In 
 Italy ; and had his wife but lived, he might 
 have developed from out his gold-encrusted 
 self a very different man. She had not 
 lived, however, and Browne had become 
 the man he was. In many ways—of the 
 two partners — he was far the superior. 
 
 Richard Garth felt him always the 
 master. His whole soul was imbued with 
 the value of Browne's ideas, and with the 
 mission of fulfilling and executing them. 
 It was doubtful if they had a heart between 
 them ! 
 
 An atmosphere of gloomy reserve hung 
 over Geoffry Browne's existence, and over- 
 shadowed all the young opening days of 
 the lonely child of his lost wife. 
 
 If he had ever really loved her — loved 
 her as such tender little flowers of hu- 
 manity are loved often, even by grim and 
 stern fathers such as Geoffry Browne— she
 
 158 ONE MAY BAY. 
 
 would have brought some tenderness and 
 affection to bear on his chilled life. He 
 must have softened, If only he could have 
 drawn closer, to that little sunny thing, 
 whose lonely childhood was being spent 
 in those rooms upstairs, — while he sat 
 below In his lonely solitude. 
 
 But the softening never came. If he 
 had love for his daughter, Mr. Browne 
 never expressed nor realized It. His heart 
 — or all he had ever had of heart — was 
 left In that Italian grave, and Cicely — when 
 at length he realized her — represented to 
 him only his — ambition ! 
 
 This ultimately Indeed she did represent. 
 For, without any personality of feeling for 
 her, or for himself with regard to her, the 
 girl did become, just In his latter days, a 
 fact to him — simply as being the head of 
 the firm of Garth and Browne. The key- 
 stone for a vast city fortune, and the 
 embodiment of a great idea— which, thus
 
 WHAT HE HAD TO DO WITH IT. 1 59 
 
 suddenly occurring to him — he worshipped 
 and made henceforth the altar of all his 
 schemes, and the ground of all his future 
 plans and ambitions. 
 
 It was a curious light in which to view 
 a fair and delicate girl, sent to be the 
 brightness and natural comfort of his last 
 lonely days. A curious light, but so it 
 was — just at the end of his long strange 
 life Cicely had become thus a fact to 
 Browne as she suddenly appeared to him 
 — the centre of his last project and of his 
 most brilliant commercial scheme. 
 
 This scheme, as life rolled away from 
 him, he confided to Richard Garth : — 
 
 The house of Garth and Browne would 
 be left without its thinking and scheming 
 head — so he must have felt for many 
 months back, before that quiet chill evening, 
 v/hen he had closed that very solitary life, 
 down in the grim library below. 
 
 The house of Garth and Browne, with
 
 l6o ONE MAY DAY. 
 
 all its future possibilities and undeveloped 
 glories, would be left to the sole manage- 
 ment of Richard Garth ; and its sole 
 representative would be that fair, brown- 
 haired girl, who, if Richard Garth did 
 not marry and beget heirs presumptive of 
 his own, would inherit everything, and 
 would in her person represent all the 
 weight and responsibility of that eminent 
 commercial firm. 
 
 The charge of this girl — not as his 
 tenderly thought of daughter, but as the 
 heiress of his House^ — was committed to 
 his hard-headed partner by this strange 
 Geoffry Browne ; and with the charge was 
 unfolded to him that scheme by which, sup- 
 posing Richard Garth continued to remain 
 without heirs, and all thus centred upon 
 Cicely, the house might be raised to a far 
 higher pinnacle of commercial glory than 
 it had ever as yet attained. 
 
 As a first point Cicely's whole destiny and
 
 WHAT HE HAD TO DO WITH IT. l6l 
 
 future — linked as it was to large possessions 
 and inheritance — was to remain at the sole 
 and despotic disposal of Richard Garth. 
 '* Marry the girl," Geoffry Browne had said. 
 " Marr)^ her early, Garth, to the heir of 
 some such house as Bullion and Specie. 
 Some house standing as high at least as 
 theirs does — and choose theirs in particular, 
 because much centres with them upon the 
 son of Bullion, and they have a business 
 corresponding to our own. Let the houses 
 thus unite in one centre — and together 
 the interests of a vast colossal concern 
 may be conducted under one name. To- 
 gether they may found a fortune which 
 may raise the names of Garth and Browne, 
 linked to Bullion and Specie, to a lasting 
 eminence among men. We may be the 
 founders of a line of great names : our 
 representatives in two generations may 
 wear strawberry leaves. Follow out my 
 scheme, Garth," the strange-hearted father 
 
 VOL. I. M
 
 1 62 ONE MAY DAY. 
 
 had said one night, as they sat over their 
 dinner in the grim, dull dining-room down- 
 stairs. " Follow out my scheme, and I may 
 die content, knowing that I may be the 
 ancestor of a line of Dukes, perhaps, as 
 wealthy as any in England, and that I 
 am the father of one who may at least 
 see her son carry the wealth of * Browne 
 and Garth and Bullion,' straight to the 
 House of Lords one day." 
 
 And so Mr. Browne had died, satisfied 
 with those vague and dreamy speculations 
 regarding only posterity, and heedless, that 
 in the mean time he was the father of as 
 sweet a child as was ever given to bless 
 a parent's last weary days. Died silently 
 and alone in the leather chair of the grim 
 library ; and Cicely awoke quite suddenly 
 to all the new positions of her life ; to the 
 knowledge of her inheritance and wealth, 
 and to the gradual realization of the 'com- 
 plete bondage under which it was all held.
 
 WHAT HE HAD TO DO WITH IT. 163 
 
 Geoffry Browne willed all to her under 
 conditions of obedience to Mr. Richard 
 Garth. To him he had left the whole 
 destinies of her life and future, — to turn 
 and mould and order at his will ! 
 
 Obedient to him, she was one of the 
 wealthiest heiresses west of Temple Bar ; 
 while rebellious to him, she might have 
 nothing. 
 
 This was her curious place in life ; this 
 was the destiny which she had been 
 aroused to realize. 
 
 At first she did not know it all. Her 
 father's death — which could bring but the 
 weight of a passing sadness to her heart — 
 brought at the same time a wondrous free- 
 dom to her daily habits and ways. 
 
 She was left in the old home, for Richard 
 Garth held his partner's daughter per- 
 sonally, in much the same indifferent con 
 sideration that her father had done. And 
 as Browne had let her live, so Garth left
 
 164 ONE MAY DAY. 
 
 her to continue. It did not occur to him 
 to alter her style of life, or to restrict the 
 handsome costliness in which it had pleased 
 Geoffry Browne at all times to maintain 
 his very useless establishment. Neither did 
 Garth stint the young heiress of her due 
 portion of the current funds of the firm. 
 
 Cicely had her share, or at least Belinda 
 East had it committed to a faithful charge 
 for her. She had all she required, and 
 Mr. Garth interfered little with her as yet, 
 beyond grumbling at almost everything 
 she did; failing to understand or sympathize 
 with anything she ever wished to do ; and 
 prowling about in a general way, as if on 
 the look out for some mischief, which he 
 felt convinced in his own mind was hidden 
 somewhere away. 
 
 He had let her and Belinda make a 
 short tour in Italy last winter, when he 
 had been told that the girl was depressed 
 and flagging in strength after all the shock
 
 WHAT HE HAD TO DO WTPH IT. 1 65 
 
 and excitement of her father s death. At 
 the doctor's advice he had let them go; but 
 he had ordered them soon home again, 
 for he felt very nervous Indeed, while his 
 heiress was away. In fact, Richard Garth 
 was fidgety and anxious and actually 
 nervous over the whole thing. 
 
 He would have liked to fence round his 
 young charge and to have clipped her 
 wings, had he felt sufficient courage in his 
 anxious mind to do so. But so swift and 
 bright-winged a bird was very difficult to 
 cage ! 
 
 And Indeed — as Richard Garth realized 
 how hard It would be to mould down the 
 changeful fancies of that girl's quick mind 
 to the tone of his own practical thoughts 
 — this charge which had fallen upon him 
 seemed difficult. And as it dawned 
 slowly, but very forcibly, upon him that it 
 might not prove easy to induce Cicely's 
 aspirations to centre themselves on the
 
 1 66 ONE MAY DAY. 
 
 prospects of the house of Garth and 
 Browne, he felt puzzled. 
 
 It was strange, he thought, how little 
 she knew about It all ; and he felt It might 
 be difficult for him Indeed to see his way 
 or to carry out exactly the tyrannical In- 
 structions of Geoffry Browne. And yet, 
 this was his mission ! 
 
 The time had not yet arrived, however ; 
 Cicely was but just of age, and young 
 Frederick Bullion, upon whom he and 
 Geoffry Browne had fixed their notice, had 
 not yet returned from a continental tour. 
 Cicely was still scarcely conscious of the 
 close grip Into which her father had com- 
 mitted her life ; nor did she as yet distress 
 herself about the power which Richard 
 Garth had over her, beyond the fact, and 
 the sense, of the worry and ceaseless 
 trouble about business transactions, which 
 he insisted on forcing Into her young un- 
 thinking life.
 
 WHAT HE HAD TO DO WITH IT. 1 67 
 
 For in this one respect Garth dealt 
 differently with her ; in this respect his 
 conduct was a curious contrast to what 
 her father's had been. Mr. Browne had 
 kept her in ignorance; her guardian judged 
 that it was her duty to know ; and there- 
 fore Richard Garth persisted in striving to 
 interest her in the concerns of the great 
 house, and in reading over and explaining 
 many of its documents to her. He differed 
 from her father, inasmuch that he insisted 
 on her having an understanding of the 
 vast concern which was hers. 
 
 It was a characteristic in which he was 
 the opposite of Browne, and by which he 
 evinced that nervous uncertainty of himself 
 of which Browne had been never conscious. 
 It was a curious help and support to Mr. 
 Qarth's mind that Cicely should take a 
 part with him, and so, he bored her about 
 bonds and consignments through many a 
 long summer's afternoon ; and he wrote
 
 t68 one may day. 
 
 her long prosy letters too, homilies on the 
 working of the business, written on large 
 blue sheets of paper. In a fine commercial 
 hand — long homilies, the perusal of which 
 utterly wearied her young soul. 
 
 All this had come gradually to her 
 among her many new duties, — with other 
 strange and novel circumstances of her 
 altered life. 
 
 She must take her position, — this even 
 Belinda said ; and as regards time and 
 attention given to documents, this Belinda 
 said certainly was her duty, — so In all 
 these matters she tried to learn her part. 
 
 It behoved her to entertain now serious 
 views of life, and to recognize the Important 
 part she played as the representative of 
 Garth and Browne^ — or so at least did her 
 guardian very often assure her. 
 
 Poor little Cicely ! She much disliked 
 it all. Left alone to Mr. Garth and his 
 bonds and documents, life would soon
 
 WHAT HE HAD TO DO WITH IT. 1 69 
 
 indeed have assumed a serious and dreary 
 enough aspect for her. 
 
 But she had ever that friend at her side 
 who had been her support and protection, 
 in all her younger and lonely days. 
 
 With Belinda, the gentle, demure, but 
 very sagacious Belinda, she had lived up- 
 stairs even through all those bygone 
 years a little bright life of her own. They 
 had made somehow an existence for them- 
 selves and for Negro, that had many points 
 of interest unknown either to Garth or 
 Browne. 
 
 It had been an Innocent and obscure life 
 Indeed which they had led together ; its 
 interests and its pleasures childlike and 
 simple to a degree. But the two had not 
 been unhappy. It had been Belinda's un- 
 ceasing effort to keep that youthful sun- 
 shine bright upon Cicely's face, and she 
 had succeeded. 
 
 Now, all had brightened for them afresh
 
 170 ONE MAY DAY. 
 
 just lately, from points of view In the 
 prospect quite unsuspected by Mr. Garth. 
 
 All had brightened, and this evening, 
 as Cicely (while we are Introducing her) 
 walked slowly up the broad stairs, there 
 stretched across her mental view a soft 
 luminous horizon all sunny and pleasant, 
 of which Indeed Richard Garth knew 
 absolutely nothing ; and life, thanks to the 
 shrewd character and sweet sympathetic 
 tenderness of dear Belinda's heart, held 
 now for Cicely a future brightened with 
 kindly friendship and many other pleasant 
 things as well. 
 
 Along the horizon crept up rosy tints of 
 hope and glittering rays of anticipation 
 and pleasure, while away In the silent dis- 
 tance, quite unknown even to Belinda and 
 almost unsuspected by Cicely herself, rose 
 slowly among the luminous tints of her 
 life's fair morning — the golden day star of 
 romance !
 
 WHAT H5 HAD TO DO WITH IT. 171 
 
 She was all unconscious of It as yet this 
 evening, and it was with her wonted pen- 
 sive and abstracted air, that she went with 
 slow footsteps up the stairs from the big 
 dining-room, Belinda following her close 
 behind.
 
 172 ONE MAY DAY. 
 
 CHAPTER XI. 
 
 FOR GARTH AND BROWNE. 
 
 The postman's double ring clanged noisily 
 below, just as Cicely reached the head of 
 the broad stairs and turned slowly Into the 
 drawing-room on the right. 
 
 Several months ago, when she and Be- 
 linda had returned from their first little 
 adventurous tour, the blinds of this large 
 front drawing-room had been raised at 
 length, after long years of shadow and twi- 
 light had reigned in the handsome room. 
 Cicely had herself drawn them up one 
 morning, and sallied from out the window 
 on to the broad stone balcony beyond. 
 
 She had seemed to breathe more freely
 
 FOR GARTH AND BROWNE. I 73 
 
 in the stately desolate mansion from that 
 day. The broad stone balcony commanded 
 a wide, clear, expansive view, and pre- 
 sented a picture of life and activity. The 
 bustle and cheerfulness of action lay along 
 the roadways, the quiet and repose of 
 silence stretched across the shadowy glades 
 beyond. 
 
 And so the broad stone balcony was 
 never veiled away again from her, and 
 night after night of this soft sweet May 
 time she emerged, as she now did, from 
 the dim twilight of the room out Into the 
 cool, calm air. 
 
 Belinda came close behind her, not ven- 
 turing outside the window from fear of the 
 twilight chill. It was quiet and soothing 
 out there this evening, and the clang of the 
 postman's ring at the street door broke with 
 jarring discord upon the pleasant sense of 
 repose. An expression of Impatience 
 quivered across Cicely's face. Did she
 
 174 ONE MAY DAY. 
 
 know with sure presentiment that the post- 
 man brought disturbance to her mood of 
 dolce pensei'oso with that impatient ring ? 
 Probably so, for she turned away, as if with 
 determined indifference, and bent over the 
 stone balcony looking dreamily across the 
 road towards the fragrant gardens, and 
 beyond them to the fading light in the 
 calm summer sky. 
 
 She pretended complete abstraction when 
 Belinda from within the room called to her, 
 to apprise her of the servant waiting at 
 her elbow with a letter upon a tray. Cicely 
 turned at length and took it, and then per- 
 sistently she continued her meditations 
 again. 
 
 '' Is it from Mr. Garth ? " called Belinda 
 from within the room, where she now 
 sat upon a big centre ottoman leisurely 
 knitting a soft fleecy shawl. ''Is it from 
 Mr. Garth, Cicely?" 
 
 '' I do not know."
 
 FOR GARTH AND BROWNE. 1 75 
 
 " What ? — I do not hear what you say. 
 Come in, Cicely ; it may be of some im- 
 portance, my dear. You must really give 
 more attention to business ; you must 
 really not disappoint Mr. Garth. Come 
 in, Cicely; come and show it to me, — what! 
 you have not yet even opened your letter." 
 
 The girl had come slowly towards the 
 window whilst this harangue had been 
 pealing out in calm, sonorous tones. She 
 came just to the entrance of the room, and 
 then paused, and stood leaning back 
 against the lintel. Then she carefully put 
 Negro down, very gently indeed, upon a 
 white silky mat just within the room, and 
 then reluctantly, and by slow degrees, she 
 turned her attention to the letter, and at 
 length broke the pompous-looking seal. 
 
 " Yes, it is business — business, Belinda, 
 no doubt of it," she said, as she unfolded 
 the letter, and proceeded with a most 
 conscientious, but very evident, effort of*
 
 176 ONE MAY DAY. 
 
 attention to peruse its contents. " De- 
 cidedly business," she murmured, as she 
 went on. 
 
 ** But in your position, my dear," began 
 Belinda, in answer ; but then she paused — 
 the sentence unfinished — waiting until 
 Cicely was at leisure to hear. 
 
 Cicely perused her letter — Belinda 
 waited, knitting placidly the while — Negro 
 slept and snored and curled himself deep 
 into the silky mat. 
 
 Without immediate remark as to the 
 epistle or its contents, Cicely looked up 
 after a few minutes and sighed — a long, 
 quivering sigh. She had come to the end 
 of it, and quite silently she folded it up 
 now, and replaced it in its envelope again. 
 
 " May 1 read it, dear ? " said her friend, 
 presently. 
 
 '' Oh, yes, of course you may, Belinda," 
 and she tossed the letter lightly into 
 Belinda's expansive lap. " Yes, I suppose
 
 FOR GARTH AND BROWNE. 1 77 
 
 he knew you would ; I am sure you ought. 
 Yes, certainly — of course you may." And 
 once more she crossed the balcony, and 
 lemt again in meditation on the grey stone 
 balustrade. 
 
 Belinda put aside her knitting, having 
 first carefully adjusted the pins. Then, 
 with a placid and slow composure, with a 
 cool mien and a grave smile, she perused 
 the following letter — 
 
 " Chambers, Lombard Street, 
 
 "May loth, 1880. 
 
 *' Dear Miss, 
 
 " I propose to call upon you 
 to-morrow at half-past one o'clock. Be 
 good enough to hold yourself in readiness 
 to give me your attention for an hour or 
 so while I place before you a series of 
 papers to which I wish your signature 
 annexed. Deeply imbued as I am with 
 the heavy responsibility of my position 
 with regard to you, with regard to the firm 
 
 VOL. I. N
 
 lyS ONE MAY DAY. 
 
 of Garth and Browne, and with regard to 
 my promise to your late respected father, 
 it grows day by day a keener anxiety to 
 me, that you should fully understand the 
 position you are placed in, as well as the 
 particulars of your father's wishes — and 
 thus learn more readily to accommodate 
 yourself to our schemes. 
 
 " By the papers I will to-morrow bring 
 you, you will see how widely our influence 
 is extending over colonial investments, and 
 how little stands between us and the entire 
 monopoly of this branch of commerce. 
 
 *' This monopoly is our aim, and this 
 centralization of Brazilian and Monte Video 
 investments under the names of Garth 
 and Browne has been the dream of myself 
 and your late father for years. There is 
 another firm in the city that bars our way 
 towards monopoly, and the removal of 
 that bar is the destiny, the brilliant destiny, 
 that I hope awaits you.
 
 FOR GARTH AND BROWNE. 1 79 
 
 *' The time is now drawing near w^hen I 
 may be able fully to discuss this important 
 matter at which I now merely hint. And I 
 trust that the day is indeed not far distant, 
 when I shall resign my heavy charge, 
 having completed the scheme which your 
 father entrusted to me, and having raised 
 the firm with which he was so long con- 
 nected — and which, indeed, sprang up with 
 him — to a pinnacle of distinction among 
 the great houses of commerce such as he 
 would have considered worthy of his 
 ambitions. 
 
 *' To-morrow I hope to be able to impart 
 to you fully a knowledge of the lines 
 along which we now move, and to show 
 you the points at which your personal co- 
 operation becomes important to us. 
 
 "With regard to business transactions in 
 general, since I last wrote, nothing of great 
 import has taken place. The complexion 
 of the money market is somewhat dis-
 
 l8o ONE MAY DAY. 
 
 turbed, however, and we look for changes. 
 The Peruvian consols are at par ; the 
 Turkish are paying two-and-a-half per 
 cent, less than a fortnight ago. Soon I 
 expect they will pay nothing. Fortunately 
 all ours are disposed of, and I am now 
 keeping an anxious eye upon the Egyptian 
 bonds, as they may fall also, and we must be 
 ready. The money article of this morn- 
 ing contains many points of Information 
 Important to us. I wish I could prevail 
 upon you to peruse these articles daily 
 with Intelligence and care. To-day the 
 morning papers touch many details of 
 remarkable significance ; especially I would 
 indicate the Times leader upon the Hong 
 Kong rates, which are steady at 35". 9^^., 
 and the Mexican dollars, which are quoted 
 at ^\d., being a quarter lower than yester- 
 day. The London Exchange is advanced 
 2c., to 2 5f 37c., in transactions with the 
 Berlin and Vienna Bourses. However,
 
 FOR GARTH AND BROWNE. iSl 
 
 all these points are, perhaps, beyond your 
 present comprehension, or, indeed, beyond 
 the grasp of womankind at the best of times, 
 so I need not further enlarge upon them. 
 It must be my charge to watch over the 
 interests of the firm of Garth and Browne, 
 and to aid it with my instructions and 
 experience, first through you, and through 
 the person of your future husband, who 
 must be a worthy representative of our 
 name and business, and who must possess 
 appreciation of the commercial genius 
 which has raised it to its present position. 
 
 "My compliments to Miss Belinda ; will 
 you mention to her that I wish for your 
 presence at home with punctuality to- 
 morrow at half-past one o'clock. 
 
 " I have been refiecting on what she 
 mentioned to me, as to the visit which your 
 mother, the late Mrs. Geoffry Browne's 
 relative, Lady Ridgeway, has paid you ; 
 and I would wish Miss Belinda clearly to
 
 1 82 ONE MAY DAY. 
 
 understand that Lady RIdgeway does not 
 by any means represent the class of 
 persons to whom I would wish you to be 
 introduced. 
 
 " I would not request you altogether to 
 repel a relation ; but I would merely say 
 that the motives of persons, situated as 
 she is, are mostly mercenary ; and that the 
 frivolous and empty-pursed community to 
 be found, as I apprehend, at her house, 
 are precisely the style of people against 
 whom it was your late father's strict 
 instructions that I should guard you. 
 
 " I hope in this matter, as in all others 
 in which, with him, I have been engaged, 
 to carry out both his defensive and his 
 active injunctions with exactitude and 
 precision. 
 
 "At present I am going abroad for a few 
 weeks. The firm of Latour and Marteau, 
 with whom we are connected in Paris, is 
 not standino^ as well on 'Chano^e as I could
 
 FOR GARTH AND BROWNE. 1 83 
 
 desire to see it ; and I am going to Inspect 
 the matter thoroughly for myself. 
 
 " Young Frederick Bullion, of Bullion, 
 Specie and Company, has arrived, I am told, 
 In Paris ; and I mean to take advantage of 
 this visit to make acquaintance with him. 
 This will be with a view to that union of 
 the two firms, as before Intimated to you, 
 which was Involved In the scheme of your 
 father, and the removal thereby of the 
 obstruction to complete monopoly, which 
 the firm of Bullion, Specie and Company 
 has hitherto presented to us in colonial 
 affairs. 
 
 "All this, however, I will more fully enter 
 Into with you when I return from Paris. 
 Meantime, be In readiness, If you please, to 
 receive me at half-past one o'clock to- 
 morrow. 
 
 " I am, faithfully yours, 
 
 '' Richard Garth."
 
 184 ONE MAY DAY. 
 
 Belinda perused this epistle with what 
 on any less amiable countenance would 
 have been a cynical smile. 
 
 This was a curious fate certainly to 
 which he consigned this bright young 
 heiress, and a brilliant scheme to propose 
 for her ambition. The forming of a centre, 
 the reducing of herself, to a mere passive 
 link for the union of the ambition of two 
 commercial firms. Her life's object to 
 be the securing for Garth and Browne a 
 certain monopoly of colonial Investments, 
 and her highest and brightest hope to push 
 this house of business Into a yet more 
 prominent rank on 'Change. 
 
 Belinda's gentle heart felt stirred and 
 troubled within her as she glanced out 
 towards the window, and her eyes rested 
 on the lonely figure of the young girl ; on 
 the fair bending head, beautiful at that 
 moment against the background of softly 
 tinted and swiftly darkening twilight sky ;
 
 FOR GARTH AND BROWNE. 1 85 
 
 on the graceful form with its outline of soft 
 sweeping skirts, and of delicate creamy lace 
 draping the sloping shoulders. All about 
 and around her was so soft and girlish and 
 feminine. And, murmured Belinda, she 
 was so unprotected, save for this cold grey 
 wall of so-called *' guardianship," which 
 seemed to close so grimly around her now. 
 The girl was leaning languidly on the 
 stone balustrade, and her gaze was wander- 
 ing dreamily over the garden again. In- 
 deed, by this time she had almost forgotten 
 that letter ; she was dreaming pleasantly 
 when Belinda stepped out from the room 
 and came and stood by her side upon the 
 balcony. Even then she did not move or 
 speak for a few moments ; and her friend 
 stood in silence beside her. The elder 
 pair of kind eyes rested gently again upon 
 Cicely, as the girl, standing there in all her 
 soft beauty, mused in maiden meditation, 
 and, as Belinda quite believed her to be, 
 still '' fancy free."
 
 t86 one may day. 
 
 Belinda gazed, and her eyes were full of 
 kindness, for her warm heart was very 
 tender Indeed for her young charge. 
 
 It had ever been so. Ever since the 
 day when, out of pure love and solicitude 
 for the child of her dear relative and friend, 
 she had undertaken the care of the little 
 unthinking Infant out at Santa Lucia now 
 twenty years ago. From the first day of 
 her charge, her whole heart's powers and 
 affections had been centred In Cicely, for 
 whom from that moment — she lived. 
 
 Bitterly had the gentle Belinda many 
 and many a time resented the coldness and 
 disregard with which the little girl had 
 been treated by Geoffry Browne. Many a 
 time had she been Indeed forced actually 
 to rejoice, that her enthusiastic and eager- 
 hearted friend, her Cicely's mother, had 
 been spared the realization of the cold- 
 hearted nature of the man she had married 
 and loved. Many a time as Belinda re-
 
 FOR GARTH AND BROWNE. 1 87 
 
 turned to their own apartments upstairs — 
 after some kindly expressed wish on her 
 part for the child's pleasure or well being 
 had been refused with hard indifference, or 
 derided with cool cynicism or contempt — 
 many a time had she (gathering the little 
 motherless child to her heart for consola- 
 tion) felt glad that the elder Cicely, her 
 beloved cousin, had never lived to know 
 the suffering, of seeing those cold hard 
 looks in eyes from which she sought affec- 
 tion, of being withered by that cynical 
 indifferent smile. 
 
 She had resented many things for Cicely; 
 and now the nature of her fathers will — 
 the conditions under which, and the terms 
 upon which, she was alone to enjoy her 
 inheritance, were resented by Belinda more 
 bitterly than all. 
 
 Cicely's mother had been a lady — as was 
 Belinda herself — and her mother's relatives 
 and belongings, among whom was indeed
 
 1 88 ONE MAY DAY. 
 
 numbered no less a person than the well- 
 known and most 'modish' Lady RIdgeway, 
 were the kind of people and the sort of 
 circles into which Belinda felt that her 
 cousin's child, her own young protSgde^ 
 should be introduced. 
 
 And to those very circles indeed, Belinda 
 aspired for her, making little plots and 
 schemes in rebellion to Richard Garth. To 
 such bright scenes of youthful pleasure had 
 Cicely been already occasionally introduced ; 
 and to several new and joyous views of life 
 were her glad young eyes already opening 
 through the innocent, If most Intriguing, 
 machinations of Belinda East. 
 
 Belinda was in many things quite anta- 
 gonistic to the guardian, and in every way 
 indeed she was opposed to the great 
 scheme. Thus, she often acted solely on 
 her own judgment for Cicely, and (knowing 
 Mr. Richard Garth) we can scarcely blame 
 her, for his views of social life and refine-
 
 FOR GARTH AND BROWNE. tSq 
 
 ment were coloured indeed by curious mis- 
 anthropical feelings and by certain not 
 altogether correct notions of his own. 
 
 Richard Garth could not believe In 
 virtue west of Temple Bar ! 
 
 The thought perhaps uttermost In both 
 Cicely and Belinda's minds at that moment, 
 while they stood side by side on the bal- 
 cony and gazed at the fading twilight over 
 the garden, was the fact that the grim 
 guardian intended withdrawing himself to 
 Paris. That one fact had been conveyed 
 to them and impressed on them before and 
 beyond every other sentence of the " busi- 
 ness letter." He was about to abstract 
 himself from home. 
 
 " Mr. Garth is going away, my love," 
 Belinda murmured ultimately, in her low 
 soft tones. 
 
 " Yes, Belinda," the girl exclaimed, turn- 
 ing quickly round, and smiling up at her
 
 190 ONE MAY DAY. 
 
 gentle friend with a brightness In her eyes. 
 *' Is It very wrong, I wonder, to be glad ? " 
 " I hope not, my dear." 
 ** Because, Belinda, I am glad." 
 Belinda smiled softly, and again almost 
 cynically, only that she was no cynic. But 
 this smile certainly said, '' and so am I." 
 
 *'And yet, Belinda," Cicely continued, 
 clasping her hands suddenly together and 
 gazing into Belinda's composed face with a 
 curiously perplexed and wistful expression, 
 " yet I am very fond of Mr. Garth. I do 
 not mind his coming, and I would do any- 
 thing in the world to please him, Belinda. 
 You know how kind he has always been 
 — very kind to me. If only he just cared 
 a very little for things I can understand or 
 care for. Oh, and If he only did not care 
 so much for Garth and Browne. Oh, 
 Belinda, I wish — I wish I were not 
 ' Browne ! ' " 
 
 Belinda pursed up her mouth and smiled,
 
 FOR GARTH AND BROWNE. 19I 
 
 and then shook her head in a doubtful 
 manner. 
 
 " My dear," she answered, " It Is not 
 such a very bad thing to be ; all will go 
 well, you will see it will." 
 
 '' Ah ! but how can things go well ? I 
 can never please him. I can never, never, 
 you know, Belinda, fulfil all these hard 
 conditions of my father's will, and then all 
 will go wrong," continued Cicely, sorrow- 
 fully, ''and I shall make everybody un- 
 happy, and anger Mr. Garth. Oh, Belinda, 
 fifty times a day I wish that I were not 
 ' Browne ! '" 
 
 *• All may go right, dearest." 
 
 " Oh, Belinda, it cannot, it cannot, I 
 know. I cannot care about what Mr. 
 Garth expects of me ; I know all he ex- 
 pects me to do and to understand, and it 
 all seems simply dreadful to me. I have a . 
 a heart and a soul, and a life, Belinda, and 
 I am to throw all into a gulf of despair
 
 192 ONE MAY DAY. 
 
 some day as a sacrifice to ' Garth and 
 Browne.' " 
 
 *' It need not necessarily be so, my 
 sweet. Who knows, when it comes in 
 reahty, you may be able to feel and think 
 with Mr. Richard Garth." 
 
 " How can I ? It is not possible. Not 
 in one single way do we think in common. 
 How can I understand all he wants of me, 
 or feel the importance of what is every- 
 thing in life to him ? And as for giving 
 myself, Belinda, to — anyhoAy, for the sake 
 of greater wealth and greater importance 
 to what he always calls our commercial 
 name — oh, Belinda, how can I '^. how can 
 I even think of it ? " 
 
 *'A11 may be well, my darling," said 
 Belinda, placidly, for she had a quiet and 
 most soothing nature. '' All may be well. 
 But let us allow that side of the matter to 
 rest for the time being at all events ; now 
 for the present; Cicely, he is going to Paris.
 
 FOR GARTH AND BROWNE. 1 93 
 
 I wonder," added the intriguing Belinda, 
 meditatively, ** I wonder how long he will 
 stay there ; all the London season, 
 perhaps." 
 
 '' Yes, yes, I dare say he will." 
 
 "Then," continued Belinda, in a con- 
 clusive tone, '' I do not think we need 
 trouble him about Lady Ridgeway until he 
 returns." 
 
 '' He knows you introduced me to her," 
 began Cicely. 
 
 "He knows enough," interrupted Be- 
 linda, with complete decision. " I 7;i2isl 
 act for you sometimes, my child. He 
 knows she has called ; he knows she was 
 your poor mother's relative, and that she 
 is mine. And all the smaller details, such 
 as allowing you to go out with her occa- 
 sionally, or permitting you to do such 
 things in a social way as it may seem right 
 to my own judgment — that you should 
 do all this — need 7io^ be confided to Mr. 
 
 VOL. I. o
 
 194 ONE MAY DAY. 
 
 Garth, my love, for It would only give rise 
 to endless discussion and probable dis- 
 agreement between us all. Do you not 
 agree with me ? " 
 
 " Yes, yes — and yet," answered Cicely, 
 with a perplexed air, '' I should like to tell 
 everything to Mr. Garth, only " 
 
 '' He will not let us tell him," murmured 
 Belinda, assurlngly again. *' He only tells 
 us what his views are of what he thinks we 
 ought to like, and do. And they are not 
 precisely our views, that Is all." 
 
 " No, not exactly; and yet, you know," 
 added Cicely, pensively, '' I am sorry for 
 It. I cannot tell you how much I some- 
 times think of him after we have been 
 talking to him, and how sorry I feel some- 
 times that — I cannot be more to him w^hat 
 he wants me to be, I am sorry, for his 
 sake, that I am not a boy, Belinda. Boys 
 can grow up to understand all about 
 consols and debentures, but I fear," she
 
 FOR GARTH AND BROWNE. 195 
 
 added, with a deep sigh, '' that girls never 
 can. At heart, they never can much care 
 about them, even If they may come to 
 understand them, you know. Then I am 
 sorry when I look into his hard, bitter 
 face," continued the girl, '' that he should 
 be so lonely ; that he should not have any 
 one but me, and that I am only ' Browne ' 
 to him, not a belonging that he can care 
 for ; not a daughter whom, perhaps, he 
 might love. Yes, I always feel sorry for 
 Mr. Garth, Belinda, for he has nothing — no, 
 nothing in his whole heart but gold, you 
 know — and, oh, gold is such a cold, hard 
 thing to love ! "
 
 196 ONE MAY DAY. 
 
 CHAPTER XII. 
 
 A SUNNY MORNING. 
 
 Next morning Cicely's mind was still full 
 of that letter. She woke up very early to 
 realize the fact that Mr. Garth was to 
 appear at luncheon, and all the morning 
 she was exercised in trying to imagine 
 what might be the possible results of his 
 visit to Paris. 
 
 But as usual she was ready for her drive 
 with Belinda and Negro when the time 
 came for her victoria to be brought round. 
 
 All her life long this drive had been 
 part of the daily routine. For, the late 
 Mr. Browne had made it a constant 
 boast, that he could ' buy anything against
 
 A SUNNY MORNING. I97 
 
 any man.' That when he made a pur- 
 chase he got the worth of his money — 
 and that he insisted on this, whether 
 the purchase in point was of an old 
 picture, an Egyptian bond, a share in 
 a mine or railway, a cask of wine, or a 
 carriage horse. 
 
 And so the one pair of bays kept ready 
 in the stable were always faultless, always 
 good for five hundred guineas should he 
 at any moment want that little sum. And 
 he liked to have that pair of bays ; to know 
 that they stood ' fit ' and well groomed in 
 their stalls, though he rarely used them on 
 his own account. 
 
 He had them more for the pride of it 
 than anything else : certainly not with any 
 view to his daughter. Being there, how- 
 ever, they required exercise, and this duty 
 of a morning drive fell regularly to Cicely's 
 part. 
 
 For exactly one hour and a half, and
 
 198 ONE MAY DAY. 
 
 always before luncheon, Mr. Browne had 
 liked to know for certain that his fine 
 high-stepping bays trotted over the road ; 
 not on the hard pavements by any means, 
 but round the circle of the Park. 
 
 There, in a steady, monotonous move- 
 ment, the well-drilled horses had morning 
 after morning taken Cicely and Belinda 
 along. 
 
 Now the habit seemed still to cling to 
 them, although the old-fashioned carriage 
 had been exchanged for the low victoria ; 
 and Belinda had almost ceased to raise 
 objections when Cicely suggested Bond 
 Street or Oxford Street after their drive in 
 the morning sunshine in the Park. 
 
 Bright-eyed Cicely, life seemed to be 
 dawning in all directions for her just then, 
 like that fair morning sunlight, and her 
 young joyous heart was lighting up to 
 meet the sweet innocent pleasure of her 
 youth that lay before her now.
 
 A SUNNY MORNING. 1 99 
 
 She was beginning to enjoy with new 
 zest even their daily drive. Life began 
 even externally to look pleasant ; and when 
 Mr. Garth was not there to make her grave 
 by his cynical remarks, and by his dis- 
 paragement of all that allured her, and to 
 render her uneasy by his dissatisfaction 
 with her, and all that she did ; when she 
 could forget his letters and become un- 
 conscious of himself, she would brighten 
 up and smile out with a strange delight 
 upon her young opening life. 
 
 Sometimes, indeed, she would break Into 
 a low rippling laugh as she glanced at 
 Belinda, and thought of all the enjoyment 
 and freedom which had now come suddenly 
 upon them both. For she had not been 
 made to feel cruelly the pressing of their 
 guardian's chain yet ; and it was impossible 
 not to rejoice in her new life. It was 
 often so beautiful, and she felt sometimes 
 so happy and so free.
 
 200 ONE MAY DAY. 
 
 All this she had experienced especially 
 and almost for the first time as she and 
 Belinda wandered about in delicious idle- 
 ness, in the sunny South, during that 
 absence from town last winter which Mr. 
 Garth had allowed them. 
 
 ' Ich auck in Arcadia', she had felt then 
 with Goethe. Probably she did not 
 express it quite in his words — but a like 
 rapture of glad surprise had often filled 
 her 3^oung soul as she saw Italy for the 
 first time in the early winter of last year. 
 
 For Cicely was by nature born for a 
 happy life : she was fair and sweet-hearted, 
 without one drop of bitterness in her 
 whole fresh healthful beine. 
 
 She was formed to be well and tenderly 
 loved. Her capacity for happiness, and for 
 imparting happiness, was very great indeed, 
 and had there been no Garth and Browne, 
 and no schemes and sordid enterprises 
 involved in her history, she would have
 
 A SUNNY MORNING. 20I 
 
 been happy in most circumstances where 
 she was known and loved. 
 
 As it was, all alone with Belinda, and 
 with Garth and Browne pushed into the 
 background of her heart, she had rejoiced 
 and enjoyed herself throughout that winter 
 journey, as one fair scene had followed 
 another before her awakening and wonder- 
 ing gaze. She had thrilled often with the 
 glad consciousness, that there was so much 
 of beauty, so much of sweetness, in life. 
 
 Back in London again it had been more 
 serious for her. Business and her position, 
 and many complex interfering things, and 
 Mr. Garth and his uncongenial ways, and 
 Belinda with her new views, all combined 
 to perplex Cicely, and to make her form 
 within her own heart sundry new theories 
 of her very own upon life. 
 
 When Belinda had, as has been already 
 hinted in several remarks, taken up the 
 thread of her old acquaintance with her
 
 202 ONE MAY DAY. 
 
 relative and Cicely's mother's relative, Lady 
 RIdgeway, many pleasant things had 
 accrued immediately therefrom. 
 
 Lady RIdgeway — that stately and dis- 
 tinguished personage who, in crimson- 
 tinted fichu, and adorned with stars of 
 glittering diamonds, shone a centre of 
 admiration at Covent Garden on the 
 occasion of Patti's debut the other night — 
 had promptly taken Cicely by the hand. 
 
 Lady RIdgeway gave Belinda counsel, 
 and moreover she offered her chaperonage 
 and her protection to Belindas charge. 
 For, she was many sided — this Lady 
 RIdgeway ; and her brilliant poses for 
 admiration and success on her own account 
 by no means embraced the whole of her 
 varied character and mind. 
 
 She was many sided, and if one of her 
 characteristics was her craze for games of 
 sentiment of more or less serious descrip- 
 tion — another was, that keen, indefatigable
 
 A SUNNY MORNING. 203 
 
 interest which she took in nearly everybody 
 else and their concerns and destinies ; and 
 a special interest which prompted her to 
 frequent impulses of kindly action for any 
 one whom she liked really — and whom she 
 favoured by calling sy77ipathique to herself. 
 
 A young and charming woman who 
 might be a possible rival to her proved as 
 often an attraction to Lady Ridgeway's 
 sympathies as the reverse. For besides 
 those objets of the other sex on whom she 
 lavished unremittingly her sentiments and 
 her alternate smiles and sighs, she centred 
 much interest on her women friends — 
 sometimes for their benefit — and if not 
 always with this result and object — well ! 
 perhaps, she was not always the one to 
 blame ! 
 
 At all events, for woe or weal, for good or 
 evil, Lady Ridgeway took a deep interest in 
 this young lonely girl, so richly endowed in 
 everything save relatives, associates or even
 
 204 ONE MAY DAY. 
 
 early friends. And she not only promised 
 to 'present' Cicely, if Mr. Garth would 
 allow it, but to introduce her to as many 
 good houses, and get her as many invita- 
 tions (such as she ought to have) as the 
 girl could desire. She gave also much 
 useful counsel to Belinda, which resulted in 
 fact in the state of matters as they at 
 present stood. 
 
 For she had suggested or at all events 
 she entirely agreed with Belinda, that '' it 
 was better not to trouble Mr. Garth about 
 everything they did, and that it was not in 
 any way necessary to impart all their 
 views and their prospects to him. 
 
 ' Keep up the morning drive,' Lady 
 Ridgeway had said, among other pieces of 
 counsel. ' Let her be seen by all means, 
 and I will talk, and speak of her, you 
 know — till people come to look for her as 
 a matter of course. Let the carriage and 
 its appointments be perfect, and as for the
 
 A SUNNY MORNING. 205 
 
 horses you could not improve on those 
 matchless bays.' 
 
 Thus the drive was still taken, even If 
 Cicely Browne was a little tired of it, and 
 felt sometimes that for her part she never 
 wished to drive round the Park again. 
 
 It was taken because of habit, and 
 because Lady RIdgeway counselled it,' and 
 Cicely not less than Belinda felt the 
 power and fascination of that lady's 
 counsel. Indeed she could not help 
 rejoicing In the bright prospect of making 
 acquaintance with life chaperoned by her. 
 
 Nothing had been done yet In the way 
 of chaperonage by Lady RIdgeway, how- 
 ever, because all their talk on the subject 
 had taken place last year at the end of the 
 season after Cicely's father's death. Since 
 then Belinda and the young heiress had 
 been away for that tour In Italy, and Lady 
 RIdgeway had also been abroad. 
 
 It was only now that she and Lady
 
 206 ONE MAY DAY. 
 
 Blanche and Sir Harry Wynn, and Jack 
 Fielding, — and indeed everybody we know, 
 — had but just come to town, now that the 
 new parliament was opening ; that Easter 
 was over and the season about to begin. 
 
 But if Lady Ridgeway had not done 
 much for Cicely yet, at least she had not 
 forgotten her. Several entertainments for 
 her debut were already organized, — and 
 this very evening she was to dine with her 
 new found relation for the first time. 
 
 Richard Garth knew nothing of it, for 
 even Cicely, who was by nature very frank 
 and transparent, had agreed that they had 
 best not tell him, seeing he would certainly 
 be displeased. Even she was learning the 
 lesson, that these were minor and unimpor- 
 tant details of her own young life and 
 prospects, about which it was surely un- 
 necessary (and certainly better not) to 
 speak to Richard Garth. 
 
 She was to dine with Lady Ridgeway
 
 A SUNNY MORNING. 207 
 
 that very night, and to Richard Garth 
 neither she nor Belinda had said a word 
 about it. 
 
 They took their routine drive this 
 morning in much the same style as of old, 
 going steadily round the Park ; going 
 eastward along the barracks, and round 
 the Corner first. 
 
 They had to pause for one moment at 
 the Corner, for there was a crowd — and 
 there perhaps Cicely pleasantly realized 
 that all was not quite as It was in old 
 times, as she returned a nod from Lady 
 Ridgeway, who sat In her pony carriage 
 near the railings ; and as moreover she 
 bowed once again in acknowledgment of 
 Sir Harry Wynn's salutation as he reined 
 in his horse by the crossing to let her 
 victoria pass by. 
 
 She was still blushing in the surprise of 
 this encounter with him when an instant 
 later she met, and gave back absently —
 
 208 ONE MAY DAY. 
 
 the full gaze of Blanche Ethrldge's big, 
 brown, inquisitive eyes. 
 
 As the victoria swept on once more, 
 and Blanche and Jack Fielding, both well 
 mounted and well turned out in every 
 detail, made their way forward to join Sir 
 Harry in the Row, Blanche Ethrldge 
 exclaimed, " There is that pretty bronze- 
 haired girl again," and they looked after 
 her as they had done the day before ; 
 while, like a swift-winged arrow. Cicely in 
 her low, smooth rolling carriage swept past 
 the crowded Row very regardless of any 
 one of them, save Sir Harry Wynn, who, 
 once more bending with hat in hand to his 
 saddle bow had looked up so gravely, and 
 then had broken into so vivid a smile as 
 his glance lit upon her ! 
 
 As she moved away, his bright eyes 
 meeting hers again, for that fleeting instant, 
 seemed to illuminate her heart and whole 
 inner being with a new lustrous beauty 
 and life.
 
 A SUNNY MORNING. fiOQ 
 
 '' How bright you do look this morning, 
 Cicely," exclaimed Belinda, whose head 
 had been turned in the opposite direction, 
 and who had seen neither Cicely's blush- 
 ing acknowledgment nor Sir Harry's bow. 
 
 '' Did you see Lady Ridgeway ? Did 
 you smile to her ? Why, you dissipated, 
 little giddy child, I suppose that is why 
 you are so happy, you are looking 
 forward to amusing yourself at her house 
 to-night. Why, I do declare. Cicely, I 
 think you are actually revelling in the 
 prospects of your first London dinner." 
 
 So much for the sharpness and discrimi- 
 nation of Miss Belinda East — ! 
 
 VOL. I.
 
 2IO ONE MAY DAY. 
 
 CHAPTER XIII. 
 
 LUNCHEON AT PRINCE's GATE. 
 
 Yes — Cicely had looked unusually bright 
 and happy in the park that morning ! 
 
 She had quite forgotten Mr. Garth and 
 his dreary business and his letter. And, 
 after her pleasant glimpse of that sunny 
 social life — a life which had acquired un- 
 consciously a sudden interest and a new 
 attraction for her as she had recognized 
 Negro's unknown champion in its very 
 midst — the appearance of Mr. Garth 
 standing waiting upon her own doorstep, 
 came upon her with a chilling and disen- 
 chanting effect. He had been there with 
 his * business ' only two days ago !
 
 LUNCHEON AT PRINCES GATE. 211 
 
 But there he stood again, however, and 
 he had come to luncheon, and again he 
 carried in his hand one of those long 
 official-looking papers which she was 
 already beginning heartily to detest. 
 
 It was no doubt that deed of transfer 
 of shares about which he had written, 
 and it implied an hour's weary and mo- 
 notonous explanation, prolonged indefi- 
 nitely and now looming drearily upon 
 her inward vision. 
 
 Poor Cicely ! business was not in her 
 line, and Mr. Garth often groaned and 
 sighed at this sad defect in her character, 
 and wondered sometimes with many loud 
 lamentations if she ' could possibly be 
 her father's daughter in reality after all. 
 Geoffry Browne had had such a head for 
 business, even down to his very last days ! ' 
 
 "Yes; I fancy I am my father's daughter," 
 Cicely made answer always to these par- 
 ticular remarks, with a quaint, demure
 
 2 12 ONE MAY DAY. 
 
 glance at him the while. '' But perhaps," 
 she would add, '' I am a little bit — ^just in 
 some ways — my mother's daughter as well." 
 And her full violet-blue eyes would be- 
 come pensive and dreamy as she spoke, 
 and as she often turned them from Mr. 
 Garth's rugged face to gaze up at a 
 beautiful Italian portrait of a gracious 
 and lovely woman ; which had dwelt alone 
 in the dim-hued drawing-room all these 
 seventeen years, but which now, flooded 
 with light and sunshine, showed points of 
 delicacy and refinement which accounted 
 for much that was most perplexing indeed 
 to Richard Garth, in his gloomy obser- 
 vations of his old partner's daughter. 
 
 That brown-haired woman in the por- 
 trait did not understand much about 
 business perhaps, and certainly she had 
 transmitted that want of concern for and 
 complete indifference to its subtle interests 
 to her child.
 
 LUNCHEON AT PRINCES GATE. 213 
 
 Cicely's countenance fell when she saw 
 the paper, for she knew it meant boredom 
 for at least an hour. And that was not 
 the worst she thought, — with a deep- 
 drawn sigh. That union of commercial 
 interests proposed some day ! She was 
 beginning dimly to understand it — and to 
 dread any reference to the subject above 
 everything else in the world. 
 
 With a sigh, as she scanned the blue 
 paper, she gathered Negro up in her arms 
 and descended from the carriage. 'At 
 the worst,' if she faced the blue paper 
 and signed her name with alacrity, it 
 might soon be got through at all events — 
 and whilst he apostrophized her on its 
 importance she might think of Lady 
 Ridgeway's dinner. If that was the worst 
 she might get quietly over it; but there 
 was more to be feared than this. There 
 was the dreadful state into which he would 
 certainly put himself again, as he had done
 
 214 ONE MAY DAY. 
 
 only the other morning over some Peru- 
 vian bonds. The dreadful state at which 
 he had arrived when she had begged him 
 not even to speak to her of that com- 
 mercial union, and had hinted to him that 
 it was an utterly impossible thought to 
 her. What a state he had got into — must 
 it all, she wondered, be gone through 
 again ? Come what might, however, she 
 must face it ! Mr. Garth was not to be 
 escaped, that was certain at all events. 
 
 There he was without his hat, having 
 been waiting at least an hour for them. 
 There he was, coming to the front door 
 instantly the victoria approached, and 
 pausing while she rose in the carriage, 
 holding Negro in her arms. Richard 
 Garth, the same elderly, rather portentous, 
 iron-grey-haired gentleman who had en- 
 countered Sir Harry Wynn at this very 
 spot by the victoria wheels only two days 
 ago.
 
 LUNCHEON AT PRINCES GATE. 215 
 
 " You are late," he said, as he extended 
 his hand to assist her in her descent, and 
 drew it back again with a clouded brow, as 
 she, pleading the necessity of holding tight 
 by Negro, lighted quickly on the ground 
 without accepting his help. " You are 
 late ; but we must not wonder at that now. 
 Hours, and times of appointment, do not 
 matter to gay young ladies, I know." 
 
 "Why, it is only just half-past one 
 o'clock, or a quarter to two at latest." 
 
 " You used to take your luncheon at 
 one." 
 
 " Yes, but we have altered that — and in 
 fact two is to be our time in future, Mr. 
 Garth — is it not, Belinda ? It is much the 
 best time for luncheon according to my 
 view." 
 
 " Oh, that is as you like. Miss Browne, 
 no doubt," Mr. Garth struck in before 
 Belinda could answer, talking in a curi- 
 ously surly tone, and at the top of his
 
 2l6 ONE MAY DAY. 
 
 voice, while he followed her towards the 
 dining-room, passing between the tall, 
 white Corinthian pillars along the length 
 of the handsome marble-paved hall. 
 
 " That is as you like ; you have only 
 yourself to please in these days, I know." 
 . " I hope also," said Cicely gently, '' to 
 succeed sometimes in pleasing my friends — 
 at least, I mean to try, Mr. Garth. If they 
 are not pleased I cannot help it." 
 
 ''Who is displeased?" he asked moodily, 
 as he proceeded to take the seat at the 
 foot of the table in her father's old place. 
 " Nobody is displeased as far as I know, 
 and if they are, well that is, I dare say, 
 nothing much to you. Miss Browne." 
 
 He always called her Miss Browne 
 when he came on special business ; and 
 (when feeling particularly unpleasant and 
 ill-humoured,) " Miss," without the Browne, 
 was also a frequent and favourite style of 
 appellation with him.
 
 LUNCHEON AT PRINCES GATE. 217 
 
 Poor Richard Garth. As he sat there 
 opposite the young heiress, looking 
 moodily at her down the table's length, it 
 was easy to echo Cicely's words of last 
 evening, and to feel sorry for him. It was 
 certainly a hard and bitter face, and the 
 expression was strongly stamped upon it 
 of his inner self. As Cicely had said, 
 ' Gold was a cold, hard thing to love,' 
 and in Richard Garth's heart there was no 
 other love of any kind at all. 
 
 Not a ray of sunshine glimmered in 
 the hard, disapproving eyes ; not a note 
 of softness was in the rough music of his 
 surly voice ; not a shade of feeling for her 
 (who almost belonged to him), in the dry, 
 business - like, grim address which he 
 adopted towards her — any more than there 
 was any approach of friendliness in the 
 really discourteously rough manner in 
 which he turned to offer cold chicken to 
 Miss Belinda East.
 
 2l8 ONE MAY DAY. 
 
 Mr. Garth, by all the laws of the 
 appropriate and the suitable, ought years 
 ago to have fallen in love with Belinda 
 East ! 
 
 Circumstances favoured this result in 
 both their lives. For, whilst grim old 
 Geoffry Browne lived, no other man but 
 Mr. Garth was ever seen by Belinda, and 
 no other woman had aught to say at any 
 time to the destinies of Richard Garth. 
 
 He never entered a lady's drawing- 
 room. If he called for a club acquaint- 
 ance, or a friend on business, he never 
 ventured (in any house) beyond the dining- 
 room floor. London houses consisted of 
 dingy libraries, with big bronze busts and 
 wire-faced book-cases, and leather chairs, 
 for all Richard Garth ever knew to the 
 contrary — until Cicely had established a 
 drawing-room, in this her own house, six 
 months ago. 
 
 Mr. Garth knew no other ladies, so
 
 LUNCHEON AT PRINCES GATE. 219 
 
 Belinda had had no rivals, and for her 
 indeed at one time the chance seemed 
 favourable. She had been willing: enousfh 
 — very willing indeed to gain favour in 
 his eyes. She felt she might have softened 
 his hard heart, and made him more gentle, 
 more human, and, as she imagined, happier, 
 had he invited her to be his wife. And 
 what better could Mr. Garth have done ? 
 
 She was an inestimable and very pleasing 
 woman, amiable, bland, and most affec- 
 tionate ! He had been a v/ise man, in 
 fact, if ten years before this change had 
 reached any of them, he had made Belinda 
 East his wife. But he did not, and chiefly 
 because he was so selfish a man. He was 
 not in love with Belinda. He was im- 
 pervious to all suggestions of the soft 
 passions ; and he was moreover by nature 
 suspicious to a degree. She had angled 
 patiently for him, — and he had known it, 
 and it had in fact amused him within his
 
 2 20 ONE MAY DAY. 
 
 own grim, cynical mind to allude frequently 
 before her to his lonely fireside and to his 
 ample fortune. To make many more or 
 less tender and tantalizing remarks ; when- 
 ever, in calm intercourse, they chanced to 
 meet alone occasionally throughout these 
 years. 
 
 Belinda's day dream had quite vanished 
 now, however — it had vanished long ago. 
 Life was closing in fast and gloomily 
 enough round Mr. Garth, and life would 
 probably end without any softening of that 
 steely heart, which poor Belinda had found 
 so obdurate and hard. 
 
 And gentle Belinda having outgrown, 
 or outlived rather, the painfully tender 
 nature of her sentiments for him, had 
 centred all the solicitude of her sweet 
 nature on Cicely Browne. And, well 
 knowing everything, she was becoming 
 sorry for the guardian indeed. For that 
 parchment-covered heart could have no
 
 LUNCHEON AT PRINCES GATE. 22 [ 
 
 understanding, as she knew well, of Cicely. 
 That nature which had no interests beyond 
 bonds and deeds, Peruvian shares and 
 money In the funds, could not have one 
 chord of sympathy in common with that 
 fair young opening life. 
 
 Belinda saw disappointment for him, and 
 as she was magnanimous she was sorry, 
 for she knew that bright girl's heart so 
 well. The gold might be Mr. Garth's in 
 the future, and over the firm of Garth and 
 Browne and its interests he might wield 
 despotic sway ; but, over that young eager 
 soul, and that earnest life of Cicely, he 
 would find practically, when the test came, 
 that he had no more power than one 
 might have to cage a swift flying bird 
 gaily soaring across the blue heavens in 
 the rapturous glad freedom of its winged 
 being. 
 
 He might impoverish her under the 
 terms of her father's will, but to bind her
 
 2 22 ONE MAY DAY. 
 
 love with golden chains he would find 
 impossible. 
 
 All this Belinda knew, and felt sorry for 
 Richard Garth, and for the sure dis- 
 appointment awaiting him. His com- 
 mercial hopes were his all — and they 
 would fail him. It was impossible to look 
 into that hardened bitter face, and not feel 
 sorry for one who had missed so much of 
 the sunshine and the sweetness of life. 
 
 ' Gold Is a cold hard thing to love,' as 
 Cicely had repeated, and gold had made a 
 cold hard man of Richard Garth. 
 
 ''Well, so you have been in the Park, 
 Miss Cicely, have you ? " he said presently 
 whilst they consumed their cold chicken, 
 and after Belinda with a bland smile to 
 both of them had thrown off her cloak. 
 
 ** Yes, we have been to the Park ; in fact 
 we usually go," said Cicely, demurely. 
 '* We are obliged to go Into the Park. You 
 know Frost, the old coachman, never will
 
 LUNCHEON AT PRINCES GATE. 2 23 
 
 Stand much of the pavement for his horses' 
 hoofs. They are far too precious for 
 mere shopping ! " 
 
 " No doubt he will have to give up all 
 that," said Mr. Garth in answer, with a 
 shrug of his shoulders, and a sigh of en- 
 forced resignation. 
 
 '' Why, what do you think I mean to do 
 with him and his horses ? " said Cicely, 
 with a bright glance and smile. 
 
 '' Goodness knows, my dear young lady , 
 what you mean to do. Who could under- 
 take to prognosticate where some new 
 freak may carry you. What you are to 
 do — or at least what you may wish to do — 
 who can tell ? " 
 
 ** I am sure," said Belinda, with a re- 
 flective air, '' we may feel quite confident 
 that Cicely's freaks will never carry her 
 to any length which we would either of us 
 disapprove." 
 
 '' Who knows, who knows," growled Mr.
 
 2 24 ONE MAY DAY. 
 
 Garth, and Cicely shook her head in 
 mute resignation and went on with her 
 luncheon in silence. 
 
 '' I am sure," Mr. Garth said presently, 
 '' it is really awful to see the display and 
 the extravagance at this moment along 
 that Park ; when you think of the money 
 squandered, and all the interest and the 
 double interest lost. Really, as I came 
 along this morning, I thought that the 
 very horses those idle young fools were 
 riding, were each single one of them 
 sufficient nucleus for a fortune if put out 
 with judgment by any sensible man. But 
 there they went, the light-headed young 
 asses, prowling up and down with their 
 flowers and light kids as careless as if 
 the beasts they were riding were worth 
 no more than a donkey — just like one of 
 themselves." 
 
 " I dare say they are not all donkeys," 
 murmured Cicely in a speculative tone ; 
 " not all of them, if one only knew."
 
 LUNCHEON AT PRINCES GATE. 225 
 
 *' Every one of them," continued Mr. 
 Garth, emphatically. '' Every one of them : 
 all idle, empty-headed, young good-for- 
 nothings, such as I have your worthy 
 father's stern instructions, Miss Cicely, to 
 keep safely at arm's length." 
 
 " But I suppose you would not surely 
 shut her up altogether, Mr. Garth," said 
 Belinda, gently. 
 
 " God knows," he answered in a bitter 
 voice. '' I do not know what to do with her 
 — no, I do not Avant to shut her up." 
 
 '' No, and indeed," continued Belinda 
 in the most conciliatinof and encourao-ino- 
 tone. *' I have reason to believe, from all 
 I have heard of late, that the general style 
 of the young men in society in these days 
 is very greatly improved. I really do 
 believe there are some very excellent 
 young men to be met with now in London, 
 even quite among the upper circles, Mr. 
 Garth." 
 
 VOL. I. O
 
 2 26 ONE MAY DAY, 
 
 ''I know them," he answered grimly, 
 *' the young vagabonds ; " and then in an 
 unpleasant, sarcastic tone he went on — 
 "Was that one of your excellent young 
 men of the aristocracy, Miss East, I saw 
 lounging around here the other morning 
 with his great lazy beast of a dog, a huge 
 creature that would eat as much meat 
 and be as expensive to keep any day as a 
 growing child ? Eh, was he one of the 
 superior kind, for, if so, he chooses queer 
 company ? I saw him lounging again this 
 morning in the Row up there, his bridle 
 hanging upon his arm and he down off of 
 his horse standing talking to Lady Ridge- 
 way beside the phaeton ? " 
 
 " What time was that ? " asked Cicely 
 suddenly, with a bright flush upon her 
 cheek which attracted Belinda's attention 
 and filled her with surprise. 
 
 ''What time ? About one o'clock, as I 
 came along through the promenade towards
 
 LUNCHEON AT PRINCe's GATE. 227 
 
 here. There he was, and a fine young 
 do-nothing philanderer he looked too, with 
 his grey coat and smart light kids and his 
 big collie dog. I suppose he just keeps 
 the beast that he may have at all events 
 something to do in the looking after him. 
 There he was, going it finely with my Lady 
 Ridgeway. Is he one of your young 
 worthies, Miss East, I ask ye ? and what 
 in the name of goodness was he doing 
 here the other day, loafing around this 
 door ? " 
 
 " I have not the remotest idea whom 
 you are talking about," said Belinda, open- 
 ing wide her shrewd though mild eyes at 
 him, and pausing in transfixed astonish- 
 ment in the act of lifting a piece of quiver- 
 ing jelly to her mouth. '' Who in the 
 world are you talking about, Mr. Garth ? 
 I fail entirely to follow you, I vow ! " 
 
 " Perhaps Miss Cicely knows," he an- 
 swered moodily, and her cheek flushed as
 
 2 28 ONE MAY DAY. 
 
 he glanced at her, while a curious gleam 
 kindled in her eyes for a moment, and shot 
 across to meet his, glowering darkly at her 
 from beneath their heavy brows. " Per- 
 haps she knows," he continued, and Cicely 
 looked down and coloured again. 
 
 She did know as it happened — knew 
 perfectly well. 
 
 But did it behove her to confide in Mr. 
 Garth ? Was it her duty to tell the tale 
 of her champion, while she did not even 
 know his name ? 
 
 Even to Belinda, from some curious 
 impulse, she had said nothing yet ; and 
 Belinda, by a happy accident, had not 
 observed Sir Harry Wynn. 
 
 What a pity, thought Cicely, that Mr. 
 Garth had come upon him. How, without 
 self-betrayal, could she account for him 
 now ? But Mr. Garth's attention was 
 soon distracted, for no suspicions had as yet 
 really taken form, or in fact entered his
 
 LUNCHEON AT PRINCES GATE. 229 
 
 mind on the subject of Sir Harry, tils 
 remarks had been prompted merely by a 
 general Innate wish to be unpleasant, and 
 he neither awaited nor expected a reply. 
 The recollection at that moment of all the 
 business to be transacted came suddenly 
 upon him, and he rose unceremoniously to 
 his feet. 
 
 Luncheon was over, and escape made 
 possible for Cicely — escape from any sort 
 of reply. They all rose now. 
 
 " Never mind, never mind," Richard 
 Garth exclaimed in a rough, grating tone, 
 the Idea occurring to him that he might be 
 a little more disagreeable still ; " never 
 mind, you will have your secrets now, no 
 doubt, between ye, and you will give me 
 enough to do to ferret them out." 
 
 He turned away and walked to the em- 
 brasure of the deep bay window, which in 
 this lower room looked southward, and 
 gave on to the pretty garden behind.
 
 230 ONE MAY DAY. 
 
 Miss East gathered up her cloak with a 
 mild gesture of resignation and hopeless- 
 ness. She arranged her bonnet strings, 
 and softly moved to the door. She was 
 tired and hot and discomposed, under her 
 placid mien, by Mr. Garth's unusual acri- 
 mony and venom, and she wished to go 
 upstairs to cool down and to refresh her- 
 self, and to recover her temper, which was 
 sadly ruffled by Richard Garth. 
 
 Cicely would not require her help during 
 the coming interview — so she assured her- 
 self by a glance towards the girl. She 
 might depart to freedom and tranquillity 
 upstairs. And so Belinda departed, saying 
 no farewell and attempting no salutation 
 even, of Mr. Garth.
 
 ( 231 ) 
 
 CHAPTER XIV. 
 
 IS THERE NOTHING BUT GOLD ? 
 
 As Belinda disappeared, Cicely would fain 
 have applied herself to the preparation of 
 Negro's dinner. 
 
 That estimable member of the small 
 family party at Prince's Gate was a 
 personage indeed whose character and 
 interests were well worth the studying. 
 Negro had nearly as many peculiarities of 
 temperament as Cicely's guardian ; and 
 among other things he did not like inter- 
 ruptions to his regular hours for food. 
 
 Now accordingly he sat up on his 
 haunches, and flourished his paws in the 
 air, and barked and snarled at Mr. Garth, 
 and made frantic gesticulations towards
 
 232 ONE MAY DAY. 
 
 Cicely, shaking his black face furiously- 
 above his ribbon bow, and asserting with 
 violence that whether Peruvian bonds, or 
 an heiress's love affairs in embryo and 
 marriage in prospect, was to be the subject 
 next on the tapis, — his dinner must not be 
 overlooked and forgotten between them all. 
 
 *' Do you mind, Mr. Garth," asked Cicely, 
 in her sweetest and most demure tone — 
 ''do you mind if I give Negro his dinner?" 
 
 A grunt from the bay window was for 
 the moment the sole reply. 
 
 Cicely took it to mean assent, however, 
 and merely shrugging her shoulders a little 
 bit, and arching her eyebrows with a quaint 
 expression, and curling up her lips, she 
 began deftly to cut up and carefully pre- 
 pare with salt and gravy and bread crumbs, 
 all properly proportioned, the daintiest 
 little repast for Negro that a puggy-heart 
 could desire. 
 
 '' Humph ! " after a moment's silence,
 
 IS THERE NOTHING BUT GOLD ? 233 
 
 came from the window again ; and then, as 
 Cicely rose and Negro scampered frantic- 
 ally after her to his appointed corner of the 
 room, Mr. Garth turned and watched the 
 pair very grimly indeed. 
 
 In a little while the girl, bending her 
 slight young figure carefully to the ground, 
 deposited the ample plateful held between 
 her two white slim hands in a corner of 
 the room, and her queer little ugly black- 
 nosed companion, who stood In a state of 
 wild delight and excitement upon his hind 
 legs and pawed the air with impatience, 
 still waited the w^ord of command and of 
 permission to begin. At last Cicely clapped 
 her hands together and broke Into a 
 ringing laugh, and her pug dashed forward 
 at the signal and buried his nose eagerly in 
 the plate. " Oh, you greedy thing ! " and 
 she laughed again. She looked so fresh 
 and happy and childlike; such a bright 
 young mistress of this big, lonely, stately
 
 2 34 ONE MAY DAY. 
 
 house. *' Stop ! " she cried to Negro, and 
 the well-trained dog obeyed, and Cicely 
 laughed with amusement again at the 
 frantic antics of her favourite in his 
 ravenous impatience as she tantalized him 
 now. *' There, there, good dog ! " she 
 exclaimed at length. " You may begin 
 again, you hungry Nig. Oh, Mr. Garth, 
 is he not too ridiculous ? " 
 
 *' Ridiculous, Indeed ! " said Mr. Garth 
 ill-temperedly ; " ridiculous enough to see 
 you making such a fuss with a dumb and 
 ugly black creature as it Is, Indeed — to my 
 taste whatever." 
 
 " Oh, he Is not really ugly," cried Cicely, 
 with Intense delight watching Negro's 
 eager and greedy enjoyment as he vora- 
 ciously devoured his food. '' Oh, how he 
 does gobble up ! Do look at him, Mr. 
 Garth— do look ! " 
 
 "Humph!" came again from the deep 
 embrasure of the window, and Cicely felt
 
 IS THERE NOTHING BUT GOLD ? 235 
 
 obliged to desert Negro, to recall her 
 attention at last to her guardian and his 
 affairs. Slowly and still reluctantly she 
 turned towards the window. 
 
 " I am so sorry to keep you waiting," 
 she said a little sadly to him. " But oh, I 
 do wish you were just a little bit fond of 
 Negro, Mr. Garth. He is such a good 
 dog, you know, such a darling; and he is all 
 in the world I have got for my own ; for I 
 never feel that the horses are in the least 
 really belonging to me. I never can do 
 anything with them, you know, without first 
 consulting Frost." 
 
 She came forward towards him as she 
 spoke, and stood a moment silently waiting 
 his reply, looking straight before her now 
 over Richard Garth's bending shoulder 
 into the green garden beyond, which 
 looked tempting and radiant in summer 
 sunshine. How she wished that she could 
 escape into it. But no !
 
 236 ONE MAY DAY. 
 
 "Well, now the dog is fed," he began 
 just then very irritably, " you can, I sup- 
 pose, spare an instant or two to speak to 
 me?" 
 
 " Oh, I beg your pardon," she answered. 
 '' Did you mind it ? I thought you said I 
 might feed him ; I am so sorry ■" 
 
 '' There is no occasion," he replied, 
 shaking his head with a gesture of curious 
 mute resignation ; and then he continued, 
 — " it does not matter : my time is of no 
 importance certainly, or at least so it would 
 appear. Of no importance in comparison 
 with whatever else may be engaging your 
 attention. Miss Browne." 
 
 ** Oh, Mr. Garth," she exclaimed, in 
 tones of eager distress, '' do not say that, 
 please. I am ready, quite ready to begin 
 to listen to you now." 
 
 *' Humph ! Did you get my letter ? " he 
 added suddenly. '' See, here is the deed." 
 
 "Yes," said Cicely, with a deep sigh,
 
 IS THERE NOTHING BUT GOLD? 237 
 
 which quite involuntarily escaped her. 
 " Yes, I got your letter." 
 
 '' You did ? And you understand that I 
 am oroine to Paris, to see Frederick Bullion, 
 amonof other thinsfs ? " he added. 
 
 A Q^rave, reserved look at this came into 
 the girl's face for a moment then. 
 
 " Please do not speak of that subject 
 just to-day, Mr. Garth," she said. '' Let 
 us — oh, do let us discuss the shares. I 
 must not keep you long, you know — and 
 the luncheon things must be cleared away, 
 
 and — and " a new thought happily 
 
 occurring to her mind — '' and I really 
 must take Ne^ro out to have a run in the 
 garden. But, please, do go on with the 
 deed." 
 
 " Ah, yes ! — the deed. There is no 
 hurry about that in comparison," he 
 answered her gloomily. " But, yes ; there, 
 the servants are waiting to remove the 
 luncheon things — had we better not go
 
 238 ONE MAY DAY. 
 
 into the library and settle in there about 
 the shares ? " 
 
 " Oh, no, no ; in here Is much better," 
 replied Cicely, emphatically, for a conver- 
 sation in the library might mean hotirs and 
 hours of explanation, and the prolonging 
 of this business interview indeed for the 
 whole afternoon; and oh! she was so tired 
 of bonds and stocks, and debentures ; and, 
 besides, there was no subject on earth 
 which she hated with such a weary hatred 
 as she felt towards Bullion and Specie, 
 although scarcely yet realizing the position 
 in which that firm was intended to stand 
 to her. And If there was any one name 
 more than another which filled her soul 
 with the Instincts of antipathy. It was that 
 of the unconscious and unoffending Frede- 
 rick Bullion, whose introduction Into busi- 
 ness conversations always meant prolonged 
 explanations of the complex scheme of a 
 commercial union, and of the vast and lofty 
 ambitions of Garth and Browne.
 
 IS THERE NOTHING BUT GOLD ? 239 
 
 These dissertations always made Cicely- 
 reflect and wonder over the strange cha- 
 racter of her late father who had left her 
 so many years in ignorance of all this. 
 His dealings with her began now to seem 
 wonderful and curious indeed. 
 
 For even to her that individual and 
 personal difference existing at all times 
 between Garth and Browne was re- 
 markable. The former, her present guar- 
 dian, always talking to her and enlarging 
 upon the prospects and ambitions of 
 the house ; while the latter, with whom she 
 had passed so many years, and who had 
 been her own father, had never mentioned 
 them at all. 
 
 It was very strange to her ; and now 
 it often occurred to her that her father's 
 had been the best way! For Mr. Garth 
 certainly tormented her, and repairing with 
 him to the library would mean the whole 
 afternoon. They had much better remain
 
 240 ONE MAY DAY. 
 
 in here, she thought to herself, and so finish 
 off promptly the business of the shares. 
 
 '' There are pens and ink here, Mr. 
 Garth," the girl said, turning towards the 
 large heavy table which stood in a corner 
 of the dininof-room. " Here are lots of 
 pens, and plenty of ink, too ; will you show 
 me what I am to do ? " 
 
 " Yes, as soon as you are ready." 
 
 *' You see I am ^7nU ready now," she 
 answered, sitting down in the big brown 
 leather chair by the writing-table, and 
 folding her hands and letting her eyes 
 wander over the fresh green sward of the 
 little garden outside. Her attention wan- 
 dering also by degrees as he began to dis- 
 course to her- — wandering, where ? — who 
 could tell ? 
 
 Richard Garth stood upright beside her, 
 and in his hard, monotonous tones ex- 
 plained, in lengthy commercial language, 
 the acts of transfer and consignment that
 
 IS THERE NOTHING BUT GOLD ? 24 1 
 
 were to take place in the matter of these 
 special bonds and deeds. 
 
 She listened for at least five minutes, 
 listened as well as she could ; and then her 
 attention did gradually drift from her 
 surroundings, and she ceased to hear 
 what Mr. Garth was saying — until sud- 
 denly he interrupted the pleasant current 
 of her thoughts by addressing some 
 direct question to her with the view of 
 soliciting the fact of how much she under- 
 stood. Cicely supposed she did understand 
 him, but in truth she never felt quite 
 certain ! 
 
 " I am obliged to be particular, you 
 know," he at length remarked to her; "as 
 I am quite alone in the matter, you see, 
 Miss Browne." 
 
 ''Oh, Mr. Garth," replied Cicely, then 
 looking suddenly up at him at this point, 
 and becoming unaccountably interested, 
 and yet at the same time evidently 
 
 VOL. I. R
 
 242 ONE MAY DAY. 
 
 Utterly oblivious of deeds and bonds — 
 " Oh, Mr. Garth, how I wish that you were 
 not quite alone. I do so often wish that 
 you did not really live alone, and so solitary 
 — I do indeed always wish it whenever I 
 think about you." 
 
 " But, you see, I cannot help it," he 
 answered with a curious and rather gloomy 
 resignation In his tone. " I cannot help 
 it, and I do not fancy It causes any serious 
 concern, Miss Cicely, to you." 
 
 "It does though. Why, — why should 
 you do It ? " continued the girl eagerly. 
 " Mr. Garth, is there nothing but gold In 
 this world, and is there no one — no one 
 for you excepting mef " 
 
 " There Is no one," he replied in a 
 strange voice, as if she had aroused his 
 interest by her words, and sounded his 
 memory in spite of himself. " There is no 
 one, as you are aware, belonging to me, 
 Miss, to represent the firm ; or at least not
 
 IS THERE NOTHING BUT GOLD ? 243 
 
 any one that I ever heard of, or care to 
 seek. My brother and my only sister are 
 long since dead," he added, continuing 
 (after an instant's silence) with an air, and 
 with a feeling, of unwonted confidence and 
 of pleasure in the confidence for which he 
 could not in the least account. " They 
 are both dead." 
 
 " But, Mr. Garth," Cicely said, turning 
 eagerly round then in her chair, and fixing 
 her large luminous eyes upon him, as a 
 new idea occurred to her with sudden 
 force — ''Mr. Garth, there must be so^ne 
 one you know. Every one has relations 
 and friends. Why, even I, who am, I 
 think, surely the most lonely girl in all the 
 wide world, I, even, have Belinda, and 
 Lady Ridgeway — and I have you. But 
 is there not some one now ? " she went on 
 with a curious, sudden, and earnest gravity, 
 " is there not some one who surely wants 
 you quite as much as you want them } "
 
 244 ONE MAY DAY. 
 
 "No one wants me," he replied moodily; 
 " and certainly I want nobody. Perhaps 
 that is just my complaint." 
 
 '' Oh, but think, Mr. Garth— do think." 
 
 Then after a moment's pause, in a low 
 and gentle tone, she added softly — 
 
 " Is it so very, very long, since your 
 brother died ? " 
 
 " My brother died just thirty years ago," 
 he answered, informing her (as she would 
 know) with a quiet matter-of-fact exacti- 
 tude that was intensely characteristic of 
 the man ; ''just thirty years this Whitsun- 
 tide. He was like myself, Miss Cicely, he 
 never married. He was some years my 
 senior — and he died pretty young. My 
 sister died to me, also, when I was but 
 eighteen years of age. She left me — I, 
 just struggling over the knottiest time of 
 life — left me to marry a penniless fellow, 
 with a bit of a wretched estate down 
 in the wilds somewhere ; a man who
 
 IS THERE NOTHING BUT GOLD ? 245 
 
 borrowed money from me and never paid 
 me, twice or three times, before I was one 
 and twenty, and when I could not afford 
 to lose. I never spoke to them, good or 
 bad, after the third time, I can tell ye ; and 
 I heard nothing more of their family till 
 long after my sister died." 
 
 " But then you heard of them — did you ? 
 and that she had a family ? Oh ! — then you 
 /lave some one who is wanting you, and 
 ready to love you after all, Mr. Garth," 
 Cicely exclaimed brightly, and with an 
 eager glance of congratulation into his face. 
 
 But he merely laughed his grim, ironical 
 laugh which she hated so, and which 
 always escaped him when there arose for 
 himself personally any question of money. 
 
 *' No, no," he said. " I have had no- 
 thing to do with them. My sister left a 
 daughter it seems, and with her things 
 were worse and worse. She married 
 another beggar, the young fool, like her
 
 246 ONE MAY DAY. 
 
 mother before her, and turned beggar too 
 herself. For I was become a richer man 
 by that time than when poor Catherine left 
 me in Rickitt's Lane ; I was partner with 
 your father then, and was going up the 
 hill, and they got wind of me, one way 
 or another — down in their backwoods, 
 and they wrote to me — the beggar — my 
 sister's child, actually wrote to me and 
 asked for money to help her to bring up 
 her son. What did they think I was made 
 of, that I was going to send good money 
 there ? " 
 
 , " Oh dear ! oh dear ! " said Cicely, sadly, 
 and she turned away and wearily shook 
 her head. '' Oh, Mr. Garth, and so you 
 alienated them, and drove them from you 
 when they might be such a comfort — such 
 a happiness to you now." 
 
 " I want no comfort," he said moodily, 
 as he took up his hat ; " and I don't know 
 how I got talking to you, miss, about such
 
 IS THERE NOTHING BUT GOLD ? 247 
 
 sort of things. Come, come, let us sign the 
 deed." 
 
 And he shut up within himself again, 
 and that was evidently all she could obtain 
 from him in the way of confidence for that 
 day. 
 
 So she took up her father's sharp steel 
 pen. Then she signed her name again 
 and again at each place which he pointed 
 out to her, signed mechanically — but with 
 many curious new thoughts running 
 through her mind. 
 
 For Cicely often did think (as she had 
 said to Belinda on the balcony only last 
 night) — she often did think over Mr. 
 Garth and his strange, dreary life, and she 
 frequently felt compunction because of her- 
 self. Because of her own inevitable con- 
 duct to him — and over her indifference to 
 business and to the firm of Garth and 
 Browne. A certain sympathy for him 
 because of all this often thrilled her heart.
 
 248 ONE MAY DAY 
 
 When she thought how lonely he was, 
 she felt sorry for him, because she knew 
 how Impossible it would be that she could 
 ever really please him, and she was 
 conscious that he would be disappointed in 
 the end. 
 
 Yes, In her heart she was often sorry for 
 Richard Garth. 
 
 " Good-day to you," he said presently, 
 as the long-suffering butler at length softly 
 opened the door. '' Good-day. Yes, it is 
 all right, Withers. You may come in. I 
 have had business with Miss Browne ; but 
 I will not keep you longer. We have 
 finished now." 
 
 ** Good-day to you," he said once more 
 to Cicely. 
 
 " Good-bye, Mr. Garth," she said cor- 
 dially, rousing herself from out that specu- 
 lative reverie into which, since his last few 
 sentences, she had retired. " Good-bye. — 
 But stop — one word more. When are you 
 going to Paris, Mr. Garth ?"
 
 IS THERE NOTHING BUT GOLD ? 249 
 
 '' Oh, In a day or two, but I will see you 
 again before then. I have some more 
 papers to bring you, so I think I will come 
 again to-morrow." 
 
 And then, before she could say any 
 more to him he was gone. 
 
 Then she wandered away to these 
 regretful musings once more ; whilst 
 Withers and his subordinate cleared away 
 the luncheon things unnoticed behind her 
 chair. 
 
 She remained for some time at the great, 
 huge writing-table, gazing dreamily out at 
 the garden, which looked bright In the 
 afternoon sunshine — so bright, Indeed, 
 as soon to disturb her dreams. She roused 
 herself. 
 
 ' Oh, how strange and hard-hearted he 
 is ! ' she murmured finally to herself 
 ' How cold and unfeeling, and strange, 
 and yet,' she said, 'so oddly kind to me; 
 eager for my interests, or what he thinks
 
 250 ONE MAY DAY. 
 
 my interests, and steeled to all beside. Ah ! 
 what joys might he not have had in life ? 
 What may he not have thrown away ? 
 Just as my father did — cast from him all 
 family ties, all brightness of companionship, 
 and nearly all affections — for money. How 
 could they— how could they do it — and all 
 for nothing but gold ! ' 
 
 For gold seemed but a small thing, in 
 the sum of life's treasures, to Cicely's young 
 hopeful eyes ! 
 
 ' And so,' — she went on again to reflect 
 further, as the memory of certain words 
 said at luncheon came back to her mind — 
 'So he saw the champion! Mr. Garth 
 actually saw him the other morning as we 
 drove away, and I have never told Be- 
 linda about him, and I am sure I do not 
 know why,' she continued to herself as 
 Negro noisily claimed her attention, and 
 the servants disturbed her with the clatter 
 of plates and silver behind. ' I am sure I
 
 IS THERE NOTHING BUT GOLD? 25 1 
 
 have no idea why. He saw him, and 
 Belinda never saw him. I wonder if I 
 ought to tell Belinda ! But what is there 
 to tell, only Negro's adventure, and how 
 Negro was saved. Ought I to tell Belinda, 
 and why, I wonder, have I not done it 
 long ago ! I tell her everything — why did 
 I not tell her this? Did I forget ? No— 
 not that exactly. Why — ? 
 
 ' Well ! come along into the garden my 
 little nigger, and we will talk the matter 
 over together, just you and I. For he is 
 you7^ champion, — yes, my darling — and yozi^ 
 must have something to say in the matter, 
 and — oh, dear ! I wonder, how I wonder 
 if Lady Ridgeway will be able to tell me 
 who he is ! '
 
 252 ONE MAY DAY. 
 
 CHAPTER XV. 
 
 THE MEETING OF THE STREAMS. 
 
 After this, Fate took the whole of this 
 comphcated matter into Her own hands, 
 and when She is once determined it is 
 quite astonishing how easy things become ! 
 
 The house to which Cicely Browne 
 (saying nothing to poor Mr. Garth) went 
 quite alone to her first dinner-party was a 
 very charming residence in Park Lane. 
 
 Not a large house — but rather an un- 
 common one ; not at all like one of these 
 many modern mansions which in gorgeous 
 palatial splendour, flank what was once the 
 metropolis with wide extending wings — not 
 like one of these.
 
 THE MEETING OF THE STREAMS. 253 
 
 It was externally a quiet-looking, unpre- 
 tentious house, while within, good taste 
 and love of perfect comfort and in fact 
 extreme luxury, had dictated in unison 
 every detail of its arrangements and the 
 acquirement of every article it contained. 
 
 A subdued, softly tinted colouring per- 
 vaded everywhere, with many curious com- 
 binations of shades and hues that were at 
 once delicate and rich in tone, and that 
 were at least completely unusual in choice. 
 
 A sense of warmth in winter, and of 
 delicious coolness in summer, filled the 
 rooms. At all times the whole feeling of 
 the house was pleasant, and so it happened 
 that, without criticism or indeed conscious 
 scrutiny of their surroundings. Lady Ridge- 
 way's visitors had a way of yielding them- 
 selves to the soft enjoyments of complete 
 repose, and had the habit of quickly feel- 
 ing themselves ' at home.' 
 
 They generally sank into her low chairs.
 
 2 54 ONE MAY DAY. 
 
 and felt contented so to remain ; as they 
 inhaled the delicately mingled scents of 
 her well selected flowers, and let their gaze 
 wander over furniture and hangings and 
 frescoes and dados that were all each un- 
 questionable of their kind. 
 
 The general effect of the aesthetic scene 
 was intensely agreeable. 
 
 Lady Ridgeway herself, however — with 
 her fine expressive eyes and musical, sym- 
 pathetic voice — soon claimed and absorbed 
 attention, until the room with its perfect 
 fittings, seemed gradually merely an ap- 
 propriate setting for herself. 
 
 She looked very beautiful and very in- 
 teresting that very evening, as she sat on 
 a low seat by her open window in the 
 falling twilight, and as no less important a 
 person than Sir Harry Wynn was ushered 
 into her room. He also, by one of fate's 
 coincidences, having been invited on this 
 particular evening to dinner.
 
 THE MEETING OF THE STREAMS. 255 
 
 It was his first dinner party at Lady 
 Ridgeway's, and a curious excitement 
 seemed to stir within him from the novelty 
 of the whole scene as he bent over her 
 hand and blushed with youthful lack of 
 self-control, when she looked earnestly up 
 at him and welcomed him with low mur- 
 mured words. 
 
 From behind a festooned portico from 
 out the inner room came, at that moment, 
 Lord Ridgeway — and with a deeper blush 
 that told a curious tale, young Sir Harry 
 found himself bowing gravely through his 
 presentation to this estimable nobleman, 
 whose existence he had never compassed 
 nor paused to realize until then. That 
 was what made him blush, indeed ! 
 
 For to come and dine in a man's house, 
 and to have utterly forgotten all about him, 
 to feel his very existence coming upon you 
 with the force of a rude surprise, seemed 
 an odd thing to this most rural Sir Harry,
 
 256 ONE MAY DAY. 
 
 and caused him to colour with a fervency 
 as unbidden as it was in Lady Ridgeway's 
 eyes absurd. 
 
 ' How young the boy is, and how ridi- 
 culously rustic,' she thought tenderly, as 
 Sir Harry clasped his noble host with 
 warm cordiality by the hand. 
 
 '' Very glad to see you," said Lord 
 Ridgeway rather kindly, speaking however 
 in a most callous tone and sticking a tooth- 
 pick into his mouth at the same time. 
 
 '' Thanks, so much," said Sir Harry. 
 '' It is awfully good of you. Lord Ridgeway; 
 awfully kind of you to have asked me to 
 dine." 
 
 His lordship shut his mouth tight over 
 his gold toothpick at this, and glanced at 
 Sir Harry with a dry smile. He drew his 
 lips in with a curious click too, and as Sir 
 Harry stood attention and Lady Ridgeway 
 turned away he said — 
 
 " Oh, you have to thank my lady for that,
 
 THE MEETING OF THE STREAMS. 257 
 
 I take it ; it is pretty well her concern. As 
 long as she gives me my dinner at a 
 proper hour and punctually, and so long as 
 she lets me get away in fair time for the 
 House, I do not quarrel with her guests in 
 general, Sir Harry; so I am not very likely, 
 I dare say, to begin with you. Eh ! young 
 fellow ? You are the new liberal member 
 for Arch Aubrey, I take it, eh ? About 
 the baby of the Lower House; the youngest 
 of the pack of schoolboys who have got 
 themselves sent in. Well, it is a rotten 
 pocket borough, that of yours, and no 
 mistake, and one of the very first that 
 Dilke and his colleagues will do away with 
 when they get in their bill. Eh, make the 
 best of your power while you have it, my 
 boy ! For this new lot we have got into 
 the Government now will not leave many 
 boroughs in the country like yours, not if 
 they have a good long innings, at all 
 events. Arch Aubrey ! Why, you take it 
 
 VOL. I. S
 
 258 ONE MAY DAY. 
 
 quite easily by yourself down there — out 
 of one pocket and put It into the other. 
 Eh, all by yourself, without opposition, 
 don't you ? without a penny to spend or a 
 speech to make In the whole business. 
 What, eh, make the best of It, I say, while 
 they leave you your fun ! " 
 
 And with another click of his toothpick, 
 and without waiting for the answer of a 
 single word, away went Lord RIdgeway, 
 stalking back Into the other room again, 
 and leaving Sir Harry Wynn by his lady's 
 side. 
 
 Sir Harry was rather hot and indignant. 
 " Not that I see much fun in it all the 
 same," he said to Lady RIdgeway, In a very 
 rueful voice ; for he had not liked this 
 harangue of his good host's by any means, 
 and he was not a little aggravated by the 
 decampment of the noble aggressor so 
 promptly without affording him opportunity 
 of reply. The accusation was unfounded.
 
 THE MEETING OF THE STREAMS. 259 
 
 and the fun he failed to see ! For his 
 election at Arch Aubrey, notwithstanding 
 that it was unopposed and quite unanimous, 
 had cost him indeed a very pretty penny, 
 a good deal more than he could well afford, 
 and he was not in love yet with the House 
 of Commons. The election had cost him 
 a good deal indeed, and he felt the privi- 
 lege of sitting in patient silence in that 
 august assembly had been dearly bought. 
 
 Lord Ridgeway's attack made him rueful ; 
 and very indignant too when he found he 
 was to take his 'dusting' — as to Jack he 
 described it later — with submission, and 
 without a word. 
 
 " The thing bores me unutterably," he 
 said plaintively, and turning now to Lady 
 Ridgeway to be consoled. "And as to being 
 my own place, it cost a lot all the same, I 
 can assure you. Only that of course one 
 wants to do one's duty and to take one's 
 place, you know, I would have nothing on
 
 26o ONE MAY DAY. 
 
 earth to say to the whole concern. The 
 ship of State would float as well without 
 my help — I feel that every day of my life 
 — I can assure you, Lady Ridgeway, I do." 
 
 *^Of course you do," she softly answered ; 
 " of course ; sit down. Bring your chair 
 here. Look, what a glow there is from the 
 bygone sunset away there over the park ; 
 what a delicious golden light that Is coming 
 over the distant gardens — look, Sir Harry, 
 forget all about worries and politics. See 
 how charmingly I just catch sight of the 
 last ray of light gleaming upon the Ser- 
 pentine from my window here." 
 
 " It is quite delicious," he said ; and In 
 truth he quickly forgot his annoyance as 
 he took the low chair near hers. 
 
 It was very charming, as she said, on 
 this hot, dusty evening to gaze from her 
 window far away to the west. To watch 
 the soft crimson glow of the departed sun- 
 set fade gradually, as she described It, Into
 
 THE MEETING OF THE STREAMS. 26 1 
 
 the vapours and the misty shadows of the 
 night. To see the water gleam and ripple 
 in this tender dusk of the evenine, and to 
 let mind and fancy and memory, and soft 
 longings and desires, all float on dreamy 
 wings — far away from the dust and the 
 turmoil of this crowded metropolis, which 
 was crowded and noisy and weary as ever 
 even on this soft May night. 
 
 We are following Lady Ridgeway s 
 thoughts, for so, she asserted, went her 
 fancy and meditations, ' floating/ she said, 
 * on mystical silvery wings,' as she sat 
 there musing in the twilight alone, — or 
 if not quite alone, with companionship 
 pleasantly sympathetic to herself. 
 
 With Sir Harry Wynn she had little 
 time however just then for sympathetic 
 converse, for almost immediately, as he 
 took his place beside her, Jack Fielding 
 was ushered into the room. And he had 
 scarcely exchanged greetings with them.
 
 262 ONE MAY DAY. 
 
 when the door was opened again and Lady 
 Blanche Ethridge was announced. 
 
 ''It is so good of you to come, dear," 
 murmured Lady Ridgeway softly as she 
 kissed Lady Blanche's blooming cheek. 
 " So good of you all to come and help 
 me at the ddbut of my sweet little heiress, 
 with whom I mean every one of you to 
 fall Instantly In love." 
 
 " Lady RIdgeway's new protdgde^,^ ex- 
 claimed Blanche, laughing, and It must be 
 added In a somewhat cynical and slightly 
 unbelieving tone. 
 
 " Are Lady RIdgeway's swans sometimes 
 geese to your thinking," said Jack with 
 rather a saucy glance at her stately Lady- 
 ship's face. 
 
 " It proved so once, Mr. Fielding," she 
 replied with pretended dignity and an 
 affected haughtiness of retort. "It proved 
 so once ; but It was only once, when I In- 
 advertently praised you in your early and 
 more modest youth."
 
 THE MEETING OF THE STREAMS. 263 
 
 " One for me ! " said Jack, laughing. 
 " Pray go on doing it, Lady Ridgeway, and 
 forgive my impertinence now. You are the 
 best champion a fellow can have, that I am 
 very well aware. You have but to take up 
 a cause, or a man or a woman — to take 
 them up once heartily, and I know you 
 are the staunchest friend in the world. 
 Never mind me, or at least, — forgive me, 
 please." 
 
 " Forgiven," she said, with a lustrous 
 smile in her great eyes — " Forgiven." 
 
 And Jack bent with pretended rever- 
 ence over her hand. 
 
 " But," continued Lady Ridgeway, " my 
 
 little charming heiress Ah ! here she 
 
 is — I need not say one word more at 
 all events in her praise — I leave her to 
 make her own impression." 
 
 " Lady Ridgeway's nugget," murmured 
 Jack, the incorrigible, in a so^^o voce aside 
 to Lady Blanche. " Paraguay mines, or
 
 264 ONE MAY DAY. 
 
 something, Is it not ? — Eh. Can any good 
 thing come out of Paraguay ?— But — by 
 Jove ! — " and Jack said no more. 
 
 The door was thrown widely open at 
 that instant, and the servant was uttering a 
 name. And then — gliding swiftly forward 
 with a little, shy, quick glance toward one 
 and all of them, — looking like a sweet wild 
 rose, fresh and youthful, and bright with 
 pleasant anticipations too ; — with her fair, 
 delicate colouring glowing in the soft light 
 of the room, and her graceful figure clad 
 in a fabric of soft creamy lace came — Cicely 
 Browne ! 
 
 Jack stopped midway In his exclamations 
 while Lady Ridgeway went forward to 
 meet and warmly embrace her, and Sir 
 Harry Wynn stood transfixed with joy 
 and astonishment, while his cheek flushed 
 once more crimson with excitement, and 
 his heart beat strong and fast.
 
 ( 265 ) 
 
 CHAPTER XVI. 
 
 PRESENTATIONS. 
 
 Sir Harry had looked in the 'Court Guide,' 
 after his visits to Prince's Gate the other 
 morning, so he knew that she was probably 
 ' Cicely Browne.' 
 
 But he had not known that Cicely 
 Browne was Lady Ridgeway's heiress, nor 
 till the arrival of Jack and Lady Blanche 
 Ethridge had he known that any heiress 
 was to be there to meet him that night 
 
 So he stood transfixed for one moment, 
 while Lady Ridgeway went forward with 
 her long, gliding step, and with a mur- 
 mured welcome put her right hand on 
 the girl's shoulder, while she held her
 
 2 66 ONE MAY DAY. 
 
 lightly by the left, and then she bent 
 suddenly towards her and kissed her with a 
 lingering softness and with much impresse- 
 ment of manner. 
 
 *'So glad to see you, dear child. So 
 you have ventured out of your nest after 
 all, — out of your well guarded tower rather 
 — and by yourself, too, you dear, brave, 
 little thing ! " 
 
 Cicely laughed with a bright flush at 
 this reception. She bent her cheek to 
 Lady Ridgeway's rather pathetic embrace 
 with due readiness and gratitude, while the 
 rest of the group stood round and waited. 
 Jack gazing admiringly and In silence after 
 that one sonorous exclamation of * By 
 Jove ! ' and Blanche — who had turned 
 quickly round as he spoke — also opening 
 her brown eyes wide with astonishment, 
 and with a half-suppressed exclamation 
 and a quick glance towards Jack ! 
 
 For this was her incognita of Prince s
 
 PRESENTATIONS. 26/ 
 
 Gate, the owner of the pretty, swift passing 
 victoria, who came in so unexpectedly now. 
 And this heiress of Lady Ridgeway's was 
 the pretty bronze-haired girl about whom 
 she had questioned Jack so often, and 
 whom she had noticed so lone. 
 
 So she and Jack remained silent, and 
 exchanged glances of amused astonishment, 
 while Sir Harry coloured up with a bright 
 vivid glow all over his face and a joyous 
 dancing light in his blue eyes. He stood 
 there looking straight across Lady Ridge- 
 way's tall shoulders into the blushing, fair 
 young face on w^hich her stately ladyship 
 was imprinting that soft welcome of femi- 
 nine familiarity and friendship. He looked 
 straight across Lady Ridgeway's shoulder, 
 and, as she bent to receive this genial 
 salute in greeting of her friend, Cicely did 
 the same. She raised her glance ; she 
 caught sight of those dancing blue eyes 
 just opposite to hers, and of the glowing
 
 268 ONE MAY DAY. 
 
 eager face lighting up to greet her with 
 such a bright sunny gleam of joy, and 
 Lady Ridgeway felt the girl start. The 
 soft white shoulder on which her own firm 
 hand lay so caressingly was suddenly 
 drawn back In surprise, and Cicely stood 
 upright and paused. Lady Ridgeway, still 
 holding her left hand, turned round now 
 also. 
 
 * The child is shy and startled,' she 
 thought ; but Cicely was more than this, 
 she was for one second dismayed. What 
 ought she to do — as he stood smiling and 
 beaming all delight and recognition upon 
 her there ? 
 
 ' I am sure I must no^ bow to him,' was 
 the thought uppermost for that one mo- 
 ment in her mind ; and the Champion 
 looked terribly eager and dangerously 
 ready to bow. But she did not let him. 
 With a sudden quick instinct and resolve 
 she turned quite away from him and
 
 PRESENTATIONS. 269 
 
 looked straight at Lady Ridgeway, who 
 mistaking of course all cause of her agita- 
 tion, paused yet an instant to pat her 
 gently upon the cheek. She smiled kindly 
 upon Cicely, and shook her head. 
 
 '* Do not be afraid, dear," she said ; 
 '^courage! These are all very nice, in- 
 offensive young people, and they will all 
 be very kind to you, you fluttering little 
 fledgling from another clime. But here — I 
 must regularly present you. Lady Blanche, 
 this is my particular prot^gde, and you are 
 my particular friend ; will you like each 
 other — do, if you can, if only for my sake ! " 
 
 And Blanche, who was well acquainted 
 with Lady Ridgeway's occasionallydramatic 
 style, and Cicely who was still often puzzled 
 by her many and all curious moods, both 
 accepted the introduction with ready 
 alacrity. 
 
 Blanche adopted her most frank and 
 genial manner — the one which she found
 
 270 ONE MAY DAY. 
 
 always made its way easily, especially 
 among girls not quite perhaps on her own 
 exact level in age or anything else. 
 
 " I am so glad," she said cheerily, and 
 she held out her hand. 
 
 "And so am I," responded Cicely, with 
 a pretty shy smile, which lit up her face 
 sometimes in a very witching way. '' I 
 have so often admired your beautiful 
 chestnut horse in the Park, and I am so 
 very glad." 
 
 The girls smiled and beamed upon each 
 other cordially as they shook hands, and 
 Jack performed a profound obeisance as 
 Lady Ridgeway then murmured his name. 
 
 " You will like Mm/' she said gently at 
 the same moment to Cicely. '' He will be 
 very good to you ; and now there is one 
 other — Sir Harry Wynn." 
 
 " Ah ! surely she might bow now," 
 thought Cicely — " no doubt of it ! " 
 
 '' Miss Cicely Browne, let me present
 
 PRESENTATIONS. 2 7 I 
 
 to you Sir Harry Wynn," Lady Ridgeway 
 went on with a little smiling affectation of 
 extreme ceremony. And she had evidently 
 a good deal more to say — but she was in- 
 terrupted. 
 
 For, as Sir Harry, trying to conceal his 
 smiles, bent gravely before Cicely, who he 
 perceived instantly meant to accept the 
 introduction with the usual gravity of de- 
 portment by which under ordinary circum- 
 stances such introductions are received ; as 
 they both — bearing themselves as regards 
 self-control very well indeed for a novice 
 and a rustic amid this little group of quick- 
 eyed sharp-witted lookers-on — as they both 
 bowed as if they met but for the first time, 
 and had not on several most exciting occa- 
 sions already met and bowed before now ; 
 as they stood and Lady Ridgeway com- 
 placently regarded them and prepared to 
 begin another of her little speeches, — 
 aofain the door once more was thrown
 
 272 ONE MAY DAY. 
 
 open, a name was announced, and there 
 entered the most beautiful of young Life 
 Guardsmen — whom Regent's Park or 
 Knlghtsbridge Barracks could for the mo- 
 ment supply — bringing the sweetest odours 
 of esse-bouquet and white rosebuds into the 
 room alonof with him. 
 
 '' Ah — ! Captain Fitzarthur," Lady 
 Ridgeway exclaimed, as she greeted him 
 with a soft bright smile, and with her hand 
 extended In most pleasing welcome, *'you 
 are the missing one who was still wanting 
 to make up our party. And now, Ridge- 
 way, will you please ring, dear, for dinner."
 
 ( ^n ) 
 
 CHAPTER XVII. 
 
 'HOW EASILY THINGS GO WRONG.' 
 
 As Lady Ridgeway uttered her last re- 
 mark, she raised her voice and turned 
 towards the back room beyond the fes- 
 tooned curtain. 
 
 ''What, eh, dinner! Yes, I think it is 
 about time," came the answer in the 
 sonorous tones of Lord Ridgeway's voice 
 echoing from the back room, where, ever 
 since the event of his unprovoked assaults 
 on Sir Harry, he had been crackling the 
 limp pages of the Evening Standard in a 
 huge armchair near the window at the 
 further end, reading to himself all the while 
 in most utter indifference to the whole 
 
 VOL. 1. T
 
 2 74 o^^ ^^^^' ^^^^^• 
 
 party who were assembling In the front 
 room, and In complete absorption In his 
 own concerns. 
 
 He awoke to the sense of the hour now, 
 however, and to his desire for dinner ; and 
 he violently rang the bell. The result was 
 dinner, and forth from his seclusion accord- 
 ingly Lord RIdgeway came ! 
 
 He was not in a bland humour evi- 
 dently, and In his notice of his wife's 
 guests he was, to say the least of it, 
 laconic. 
 
 " How do ye do, Lady Blanche ? Will 
 you come down to dinner ? What ? eh ! 
 What ? eh ! I beg your pardon," he ex- 
 claimed In ejaculatory epithets, as his wife 
 arrested him with an effort to Indicate 
 Cicely Browne, and to conduct at all 
 events some hasty form of Introduction. 
 "Oh! how do ye do? Will you come to 
 dinner ? — dinner is ready. Oh ! Fielding, 
 how are you .^ Will you take Miss
 
 ^HOW EASILY THIXGS GO WRONG.' 275 
 
 Browne ? What ? No, captain — what ? 
 Eh, him — is he to take her ? — it doesn't 
 matter, does it ? What ? Is that it ? 
 Very well, as you please. What docs it 
 matter ? " he went on again to his wife 
 in most irritable tones. '' Eh ! very well, 
 very well ; it is all the same. Come 
 along, Lady Blanche, the soup is cooling." 
 
 And then he disappeared, and Lady 
 Ridgeway sighed gently as she presented 
 Captain Fitzarthur to Cicely, and as she 
 followed them downstairs with Sir Harry 
 Wynn. 
 
 " So sorry," she murmured kindly to 
 Jack. "But Ridgeway leaves us, you know, 
 at cheese time, and we will be a round 
 party then exactly. I dare say you will 
 find your own place." 
 
 And so Jack would have done, gravi- 
 tating gently towards the goal of his 
 intention, and dropping as a matter of 
 course into the place by Lady Blanche's
 
 276 ONE MAY DAY. 
 
 side ; and Sir Harry would have been on 
 his other side, between him and Lady 
 Ridgeway, making the table indeed a little 
 out of balance while Lord Ridgeway re- 
 mained. But Jack understood all that 
 exactly, as Lady Ridgeway had indicated, 
 and was well accustomed to the little ar- 
 rangements of Park Lane. 
 
 His lordship once departed (having 
 eaten as much dinner as he thought 
 rational or wholesome), and Jack would 
 usually on such occasions have had a nod 
 from his hostess to take her lord's place. 
 And then they would have been cosy, and 
 remained a nice little trio of couples for 
 another hour at least ; over dessert and 
 coffee — which Lady Ridgeway always liked 
 downstairs if her company amused her, 
 and provided everybody was placed and 
 seated as she would have them be. 
 
 But this evening poor Jack was out of 
 reckoning. Lord Ridgeway took it into
 
 'how easily things go wrong.' 277 
 
 his head unaccountably to arrange them 
 all himself. It was a mere fit of absence 
 of mind on his part, of utter indifference as 
 to where they sat, and of irritable im- 
 patience to eat his dinner. 
 
 But so it fell out. He put Blanche in 
 her right place by pure accident, and then, 
 lookinof round to see who next was coming, 
 he beheld Captain Fitzarthur and Cicely 
 Browne. 
 
 " Oh yes, sit here," he says peremptorily 
 to Cicely, pointing at the chair on his left 
 hand. Yes, sit there ; and you — no, don't 
 go there," he continued to Captain Fitz- 
 arthur, '' that is for her ladyship's man. 
 What — why, we will never all get in. Eh, 
 where are you going to ? What — yes, that 
 will do — you had better sit down, there, in 
 that place by Lady Blanche ; a great deal 
 more room on this side at all events than 
 the other. I cannot conceive what my 
 wife means by cramming up the dinner 
 table in this sort of way."
 
 278 ONE MAY DAY. 
 
 It was not a pleasant greeting for a 
 guest, as he entered his dining-room, as 
 it happened, for the very first time ; and 
 poor Captain Fitzarthur, being well bred 
 and complacent, went silently to his place 
 ■ — or to the place not his, rather, — but 
 which was allotted to him by his impatient 
 host. 
 
 Thus, when Sir Harry arrived with Lady 
 Ridgeway he saw quick as lightning that 
 there was one opening left by Cicely 
 Browne ; and Sir Harry had deftly slipped 
 into it, and was in full possession already, 
 when Lady Ridgeway, standing in her own 
 place, suddenly realized that her table had 
 gone all wrong. 
 
 Every one was a tort et a t^-avers indeed. 
 
 There was Cicely's young guardsman by 
 Lady Blanche in Jack's particular seat ; 
 and there was Sir Harry on her own right 
 hand instead of on her left, in the seat 
 meant for Captain Fitzarthur next to
 
 'how easily things go wrong.' 279 
 
 Cicely Browne. And here was Jack taking 
 his seat reluctantly enough beside her — 
 and Lord Ridgeway calling for soup with 
 much irritation, haste, and impetuosity ! 
 
 '' Why we are all wrong — we must 
 change," she began in a rather cross and 
 mystified tone. "Why, good gracious, 
 Captain Fitzarthur, what a7^e you doing 
 there ? " 
 
 '' I really do not know," he said meekly, 
 glancing towards Lord Ridgeway, and 
 deprecating her ladyship's wrath by a 
 pathetic gesture, and a little shrug of his 
 shoulders, and preparing, if she still wished 
 it, to move. 
 
 But that was not to be contemplated. 
 *' No, no — nonsense ! Cannot you stay 
 where you are," exclaimed Lord Ridgeway. 
 '' Won't you do there ? What is the 
 matter ? Eh ! what ? Don't let any one 
 move again. Are we not all packed close 
 enough '^ Surely you can talk as you are.
 
 28o ONE MAY DAY. 
 
 Sit Still, I beg of you ; such tremendous 
 nonsense to be sure. Eh ! what ? We 
 are very well — as we are Will you not sit 
 down ? Ah ! that is it — all right. Now 
 then, God bless me, where is the dinner ? 
 What are the servants about, I wonder ? 
 Are we not ready yet ? Eh ! What is 
 keeping that soup '^ Where is Watkins ? " 
 
 ** Yes, my lord." 
 
 And the soup was there. And then 
 silence — a few moments' stupefied silence 
 seemed to fall upon the party, while the 
 footmen carried round their plates, and 
 they began to eat without another word. 
 
 Lord Ridgeway swallowed hastily, for 
 the Bill of Rates and Supply was awaiting 
 in the Lords for his vote, and he was 
 impatient to be off as fast as possible. And 
 Lady Ridgeway, with a flush of annoyance 
 on her cheek, which for that moment all 
 her dignity and determination could not 
 control, remained silent also for some time
 
 'how easily things go wrong.' 281 
 
 after taking her seat. She put down her 
 spoon In a few minutes, too provoked for 
 the time being even to eat her dinner. 
 
 *' You are all In your wrong places," she 
 whispered confidentially to Sir Harry, who 
 for his part was consuming his J2ilienne 
 philosophically, although the spell of a dull 
 silence had for the moment fallen even 
 upon him. As Lady RIdgeway spoke to 
 him, however (In that confidential murmur), 
 he brightened Immediately and looked up 
 at her with a quizzical smile. 
 
 '' I am very happy, thank you," he said ; 
 for Lord Ridge way's arrangement v/as on 
 the whole quite satisfactory to him. " I 
 am very happy." 
 
 "Are you ,^ I am so glad," she an- 
 swered ; and she bent a little towards him, 
 and looked with a grave smile Into his 
 sunny eyes. 
 
 She was about to speak apparently In a 
 low tone again, In confidence. He bent
 
 25 2 ONE MAY DAY. 
 
 accordingly forward to listen. There was 
 a pause ; for she hesitated in that uncertain, 
 meditative, impressive way she had, and as 
 she paused — 
 
 '' Bad soup ! " shouted Lord Ridgeway 
 from the other end. 
 
 " I am sorry you do not like it," said his 
 wife quietly, drawing herself up at the 
 same time with a quick gesture of dis- 
 pleasure. 
 
 ''Well, I see you don't eat it yourself — 
 Bad," and he threw down the spoon. But 
 his soup was finished. 
 
 " I am glad to see at least that yo2C do," 
 Lady Ridgeway commented, looking for a 
 second towards him as the servant removed 
 the plate. Lord Ridgeway grunted. She 
 turned instantly away from him, and did 
 not notice him further until he addressed 
 her again. 
 
 The soup was not bad, it was a railing 
 accusation utterly unfounded and unde-
 
 'how easily things go wrong.' 283 
 
 served. Nothing at Lady Ridge way's table 
 ever was bad, but her lord w^as slightly 
 out of humour on that particular evening, 
 and it refreshed him to say so — and so it 
 had been said ! 
 
 When this little domestic interlude was 
 over she turned again to Sir Harry, and 
 beheld suddenly — to her intense annoy- 
 ance — that he was conversing with Cicely 
 Browne. 
 
 Just what she knew must happen, when 
 Lord Ridgeway made a mess of their places 
 in this tiresome way. 
 
 '' Some one must talk to the girl — and 
 this well meaning boy from the country had 
 of course felt it incumbent upon him to do 
 it." She had not heard what had been his 
 first remark. But now, they were well 
 started and actually conversing in low, odd, 
 amused tones about something that appa- 
 rently interested both. Lady Ridgeway 
 would have given her very life just then
 
 284 ONE MAY DAY. 
 
 (or she would have said she would) to have 
 heard what they were saying to each other ; 
 but she just then immediately fell a victim 
 to necessity and poor Jack. For Captain 
 Fitzarthur was doing his duty manfully 
 and making the best of his opportunities, as 
 most young life-guardsmen do. Blanche 
 seemed likely after all to have a pleasant 
 dinner — for it was quite remarkable how 
 well they were getting on. 
 
 Lord Ridgeway has certainly made a nice 
 mess of it, and Lady Ridgeway and Jack 
 must mutually resign themselves to one 
 another, for they were the only two left out. 
 The other pair of tete-a-tetes were quite 
 agreeably occupied now, and Lord Ridge- 
 way would talk (directly or individually) to 
 no one at all. He did dash aggressively 
 indeed into any of the three conversations 
 he fancied, from time to time, imagining 
 perhaps that his remarks were a pj^-opos — • 
 founding them, as he did generally, upon
 
 'how easily things go wrong.' 285 
 
 chance sentences he overheard. And 
 although they were Invariably singularly 
 mal ct propos In point of fact, they were In 
 most Instances however most effective — for 
 they seldom came far short of an open 
 Insult to the person each time accosted, 
 both in the substance and the style of his 
 address. 
 
 For Lord Ridgeway, be it said, felt him- 
 self privileged to be at least disagreeable to 
 them all — if in no other way he interfered in 
 his own house or at his own table with his 
 wife's circle of friends ! 
 
 Neither Lady Ridgeway nor Jack Field- 
 ing had the least wish for mutual inter- 
 course In conversation at this particular 
 dinner. But they well knew each other. 
 They were accustomed to each other's 
 moods and ways ; so they arrived mutually 
 at resignation. They knew that neither 
 of them had wanted this ; but they knew, 
 also, that It could not be helped. So
 
 286 ONE MAY DAY. 
 
 they afforded each to the other mutually 
 a safety valve for a few minutes of 111 
 temper and disgust. And then, after that 
 few minutes, they fell cosily Into familiar 
 converse and into sharp discussion. They 
 soon found some topic of social gossip 
 on which to compare notes of their know- 
 ledge — and on which to disagree. 
 
 END OF VOL. I. 
 
 PKINTED BY WILLIAM CLOWES AND SONS, LIMltHD, LONDON AND BECtLI
 
 sioNini JO 
 
 AlIS^lAINn 
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 A>I v~d g IT