A WILY SYREN.
When Una Stratton made her appearance next morning at breakfast she bore
no evidence of having been up half the night, and her brilliant hair,
radiant complexion, and entire get-up provoked the admiration of all who
saw her. Nor did they dream that the lady ever presented herself in any
other guise, or that she had recourse to art in order to enhance and
transform her naturally charming appearance. Contrary to his usual
custom, Gregory Staines was also present at breakfast, and Miss
Stratton’s eyes gleamed so triumphantly when she observed his amazed
admiration of herself that she deemed it advisable to veil their
brightness by looking down at Briny, who, as was his usual custom when
permitted to do so, was sitting beside his mistress in his dual capacity
of guardian and beloved protégé. She had had considerable fear lest
Gregory Staines should see something about her appearance that would
lead him to couple her with either Miss Annie Cory or the pseudo
governess. But as she caught his badly-veiled glances of approval her
heart glowed with satisfaction.
“If one of my plans fails,” she thought, “the other must succeed. I
came here with the deliberate intention of personating a modified
Delilah, and I seem to have hit upon the type of feminine attractiveness
most pleasing in his eyes. I feel sure now that I can fascinate him. But
I am not quite so sure that I can veil my natural repulsion to him
successfully. It will be just dreadful to feign the captive syren with a
man who possesses my deadly hatred. But I would do even more than that
for Harley.”
As she concluded this reflection Miss Stratton raised her eyes, as if
furtively, to Mr. Staines’s face, and then glanced down again,
apparently in sudden confusion. Her embarrassment was so well feigned
that Mr. Staines experienced a sudden thrill of satisfaction and
flattered vanity.
“Why, I do believe she is struck with me,” he thought, complacently.
“She is a rattling beauty, too, by Jove! I wonder if she has got any
money? If appearances go for anything, she has. She might prove quite a
good catch. But I must be careful, or the little Dollman may get rusty,
and I don’t want to cook my goose in that quarter yet.”
Mr. and Mrs. Everton had written to say that they would not come back
for another week. Mr. Grice had had an early breakfast, and was already
off to the office in which he spent most of his days. Mrs. Dollman had
some housekeeping duties to attend to after breakfast was over, and
there was, therefore, a capital opportunity for a tête-à-tête. Of this
opportunity, nothing loth, Mr. Staines availed himself. Miss Stratton
had seated herself on a chair at a small table standing at the window.
This window, as we already know, overlooked the garden at the back of
the house, and as the young lady, leaning her arms upon the table, asked
his opinion concerning the identity of first one flower and then
another, to all of which she professed herself a stranger, it seemed the
most natural thing in the world for Gregory Staines to take the chair
facing Miss Stratton, on the other side of the table, in order to
converse with her more naturally and pleasantly.
“Do you love flowers?” he asked, greedily gazing at the exquisite
contour of the face within so short a distance of him.
“I love everything nice,” was the reply.
“You make me feel envious,” he said.
“Envious? Why, how can that be?” inquired Una, with a wonderful
assumption of ingenuousness.
“Say rather, how can it be otherwise. Perhaps you do not know what it
feels like to be loved by such a being as yourself. Your very presence
is intoxicating.”
“Mr. Staines! Do you forget that we have not known each other an hour,
and you are already paying me compliments?”
“An hour! Is it only an hour since? I suppose it is. And yet I feel as
if I had known you all my life. It seems almost unaccountable, doesn’t
it? There must be some natural affinity between you and me.”
And Miss Stratton permitted the man to talk on in this strain of
offensive familiarity! Nay more, she encouraged it, for not only did she
smile, apparently well pleased, at his vapid compliments, but she
allowed herself to cast upon him such a languishing glance as fully
excused his belief that he was exceedingly well pleasing in her sight.
“By Jove! she must be awfully struck!” he thought, gleefully. “I do
believe she is actually making love to me. I am not particularly
inclined to matrimony, but a subrosa liaison with a beauty like this
would vary my life very pleasantly. I mean to go in for a little fun,
and if this young lady is fool enough to throw herself into my arms,
why--it’s her look out, not mine. I can easily clear, whenever I want to
back out of it.”
After this Mr. Staines would fain have continued talking to Una. But
she, apparently of an impulsive nature, suddenly announced that she had
work to do in her own room, and would not remain with him any longer.
He, emboldened by her complaisant behaviour, eagerly sought to detain
her awhile longer, and even grasped her right hand between both his own,
as he pleaded for a little more time with her. As soon as she felt him
touch her, Una turned her face from him, shuddering violently in an
agony of repulsion, and Briny sprang to his feet, growling in a
threatening manner.
“Be quiet, Briny,” said Una; “don’t you know a friend when you see one?”
Of course, Mr. Staines took the reproof administered to Briny as a
direct compliment to himself. He also mistook Una’s shudder for a thrill
of delight invoked by the contact between his hand and hers, and
congratulated himself triumphantly upon the easy conquest he had made.
Indeed, so sure of his ground did he feel that he resisted the girl’s
attempt to withdraw her hand, squeezed it tenderly, and whispered
confidentially, “We can have a chat this afternoon, cannot we, Miss
Stratton?”
Miss Stratton’s reply was such a languishing and apparently
love-stricken look that, but for the threatening attitude of Briny, who
evidently did not like him, he would there and then have attempted to
kiss her.
“Will you come out for a walk this afternoon?” he asked. “It will not do
to let these people see too much, I suppose. I can meet you at the end
of the street, and will show you the sights of the neighbourhood. Say,
will you come?”
“At what time?”
“Will three o’clock suit you?”
“There, I hear the landlady coming. She mustn’t see you squeezing my
hand.”
“By Jove, no. She might be jealous, eh! At three o’clock, then?”
“Come, Briny, I want you to go out with me. We have some work to do this
morning, and I have an appointment for three o’clock this afternoon.”
This was all the answer vouchsafed to Mr. Staines, beyond another
bewildering glance as Miss Stratton hurriedly quitted the room, followed
by the faithful Briny. But he understood its meaning perfectly, and knew
that he might rely upon getting the pleasant walk he had proposed.
“Rather quick work,” he mused, stroking his well-waxed moustache, and
indulging in a smirk of gratified vanity. “I’ve never gone in for
lady-killing much. But it seems to me that I can have things pretty much
my own way with women, if I like to lay myself out to please them. First
the pretty young widow, and then the beautiful artist. And I had half a
notion of marrying the widow! What a fool I should have been to-day if I
had been already booked! Good Lord! this girl isn’t fit to leave home by
herself. She’ll be like wax in my hands, and I can clear out when I get
tired of her, unless she proves to have plenty of money, in which case I
shall make it my business to get hold of it, sooner or later.”
Meanwhile, the subject of his complaisant musings was in her own room,
with the door locked, and was walking backwards and forwards in an agony
of passion such as would have surprised him, if he could have seen it.
She rubbed her right hand violently with her pocket handkerchief, and
gave vent to short inarticulate cries of fury.
“I thought I could bear it,” she panted, hoarsely, “I believed I could
endure anything for Harley’s sake, and to bring this perjured thief and
murderer to justice. I have overrated my strength, for the contamination
of his touch has nearly driven me mad. And yet I acted so well that I
really believe that he imagines me to have fallen hopelessly in love
with him! I am sure he also thinks me infatuated and pliant enough to be
a willing tool in his hands. Upon my word, it doesn’t take much
manœuvring to throw dust in the eyes of a vain man.”
Miss Stratton muttered a good deal more to the same purpose, and then,
having calmed down a little, began to wash her hands, for she was not
satisfied with merely rubbing off Mr. Staines’ touch. Then, having made
sure that her toilet and disguise were all perfect, she ascertained from
Mrs. Dollman the time at which she would be expected in to lunch, and,
carrying a portfolio with her, went out, ostensibly to sketch. Her real
purpose, however, was to hunt about until she found a shop in which she
could buy or order a few local sketches, as nearly in the same style as
some English sketches that she had brought with her as possible. She was
fortunate enough to secure just what she wanted, and at a price, too,
which made her wonder how the artist could possibly make a living at
that sort of work.
Returning to the house, she found that it was near lunch time, and that
Mr. Staines, contrary to his usual custom, intended to grace the board
with his presence. But he was very cautious in his behaviour, and Mrs.
Dollman’s sharp eyes could not detect more admiration on his part for
the beautiful stranger than was consistent with the fact that she was a
previously unknown new arrival. On her side Miss Stratton was a pattern
of discreetness, and bestowed nearly all her attention upon the pretty
little mistress of the house.
After lunch was over Mrs. Dollman begged to see Miss Stratton’s
sketches. The portfolio, therefore, was fetched out, and the little
drawings it contained were duly admired. The local views were not shown
yet. They were intended to account for time that Miss Stratton expected
to devote to other pursuits than sketching, and would not be shown at
all if events developed themselves as quickly as she hoped. Truth to
tell, she was not very clever with pencil or brush, and such artistic
achievements as she was able to show were due to the “amour propre” of
her drawing master. He, knowing that in nineteen cases out of twenty it
is usual for young ladies to discard their school pursuits as soon as
their education is pronounced complete, thought it a pity that they
should not have something to show their fond parents for all the money
spent upon them, and made a point of doing their work himself if he
found that his pupils showed no special aptitude for it. In this way he
built himself a fine reputation as an art teacher, for the vanity of the
majority of his pupils forbade them to betray the fact that they had
really had very little to do with the production of the pictures bearing
their signature. Miss Stratton had not started upon her present
enterprise without having first matured her plans, and she had even
taken the precaution to change the initials of the little pictures with
which she meant to support her assumption of the role of an artist. But,
all used as she was becoming to the necessity for a certain amount of
deception, she felt very uncomfortable when listening to the praises
lavished upon work to which she could lay very little claim.
When this little farce was over there was a general adjournment, and
Miss Stratton betook herself to her own room to prepare for the intended
excursion, in the rôle of a complaisant inamorata, with her mortal
enemy. The latter, after meeting her outside, as per arrangement, did
all in his power to amuse his companion, and was highly pleased with his
afternoon’s entertainment. When he was once more left alone, at the end
of the street leading to Mrs. Dollman’s house, he was vainer than he had
ever been in his life before, and anticipated not the slightest drawback
to the success of the love affair upon which he had just entered.
But Miss Stratton’s feelings ran in a different groove. While
apparently quite happy in the company of Mr. Staines, she was careful
not to agree to any scheme of enjoyment that involved retirement from
the public thoroughfares. While there she felt herself safe, and did not
hesitate to befool Mr. Staines so egregiously that he already regarded
her as his willing prey. She was, however, by no means quite satisfied
with her day’s work so far. During the course of her conversation she
had casually mentioned her desire to inspect Gibraltar under pleasant
guardianship. But the gentleman showed such a decided aversion to the
idea of visiting that place that the prospect of luring him there seemed
as yet but a remote one.
Now, as her sole object in thus cultivating his society was to find an
opportunity of persuading him to visit the fortress, in order that she
might have his arrest effected upon English ground, it is not surprising
that the prospect of failure in this direction should cause her some
disquietude. A prolonged flirtation with the scoundrel would be
unendurable. Still, she was determined to give the game a fair trial,
and if it failed, she could but hope that as “Mr. Bootle” she would be
more successful. Briny had been taken out with her, but could not be
persuaded to show any liking for Mr. Staines.
“I am sorry to be unable to give you my company this evening, but hope
to spend several hours with you to-morrow. Had I known of your arrival,
I would not have made the appointment to which I am bound to attend
to-night. But we mean to have a jolly big day together to-morrow, eh?”
Mr. Staines went his way, very well satisfied with the answer he got,
though Miss Stratton’s comment upon his curious way of preferring his
request might not have pleased him.
“He is sorry to be unable to give me a share of his company this
evening! Rather cool, forsooth, even for a vain fool like that. I doubt
I have acted only too well. I should have coquetted and played with him,
and made him think that, to please me, it would be necessary to accede
to all my requests. Yet no! The man is too coarse to be captivated by
modesty, and I do not despair by any means. Poor Harley! It is well for
his peace of mind that he does not know how far I have to stoop to help
him.”