A REJECTED TROPHY
IN a few seconds after Mr. Jem Capes had called attention to his
presence by means of the knocker, a neat kitchen-maid opened the door
of the servants' entrance to the Hall. The sight of a trim, female
figure pleased Captain Torrance's messenger. He was young, and,
according to his own notions, good-looking, and with plenty to say for
himself, therefore well calculated to make a favourable impression. He
glanced admiringly at the girl, and, with a full consciousness of the
absurdity of the remark, said—
"You are the lady's-maid here, I believe, miss?"
"You are mistaken," was the quiet reply. "I am a kitchen-maid; but if
you want to see Cameron, who is Miss Mountford's own maid, I will let
her know."
"I have no desire to see any face but yours, and I'm sure I couldn't
find a prettier, if I had my pick of all in the house. I mean, of
course, amongst them that are in service here. It isn't for such as me
to pass an opinion about the ladies."
The girl heard this flattering speech with an unmoved countenance,
and, much to Mr. Jem Capes's surprise, ignored it entirely when next
addressing him.
"Please to tell me what you want, or whether you wish to see any of the
men-servants. There are none of them in the house just now," she said.
The groom's face fell at the ill-success of his insinuating looks and
compliments, and he answered, rather sharply, "I want nothing with
servants—men or girls. I have had enough of one outside, the coachman,
I think, who is about as sweet as a sloe or a crab-apple."
"You are speaking about my father. What is your message, please?"
Probably Jem Capes never felt so angry and humiliated as he did at
this moment, when, for the second time, Patty Mountain, ignoring alike
his compliments to herself and his impertinent allusion to her father,
asked his business.
"My message is for your mistress, young woman," he replied in a sullen
tone. "The gentleman who sent this note and something along with it,
said I must give it into her own hand. What I have to ask you is, can I
see the lady?"
"I cannot tell, but I will find out;" then, after civilly requesting
the groom to take a seat, Patty disappeared, in order that the inquiry
might be made.
Capes was not sorry when he saw another servant in place of Patty, but
the new-comer proved to be older and still more staid-looking.
"You have brought something for my mistress, I believe," she said.
"Miss Mountford cannot see you, but if you will send the note by me,
she will answer it now, or forward a reply, if a message will not be
sufficient."
"I was told to give it and the other article into her own hand; but if
so be she will not see me, of course you shall take the note, and I'll
wait here," said Capes, resuming his seat. "I dare say the lady will
see me, though, when she has read the letter."
Capes waited what he thought an unconscionable time, but at length the
messenger reappeared.
"This is the answer," she said, "and I am to tell you to please take
back the other article. The note will explain."
"You don't mean that I'm to take the—the—what Captain Torrance
sent—back with me. You must have made a mistake. You'd better ask
again," replied Capes, unable to believe his ears.
"There's no mistake. I have told you exactly what my mistress, Miss
Mountford, said."
"But she has not seen the captain's present."
"I know that. I can only tell you what message she sent. She made it
very plain to me."
Capes almost snatched the note from the bearer's hand, put on his hat,
and without another word left the house. He closed the door behind him
with a bang, and once outside, gave further vent to his feelings in
words which shall not be repeated in full, though part of them may.
"To think of me being so done out of everything. The captain will
be so angry he'll be fit to strike me, though he'd better not. I've
done my best and been beaten all round, by coachman and his girl, the
waiting-maid and the mistress. But what aggravates me beyond anything
is, that the finest brush of the day should have been in a way flung
back in the captain's face. Such a compliment as it was for him to send
it, when the lady was not present at all. I reckoned on a sovereign
from her at the very least."
Capes's anticipations of what his master would say were more than
realized, for the captain broke into a perfect tempest of anger after
reading Miss Mountford's note, and, very unreasonably, blamed the
messenger for what was no fault of his.
Captain Jack had thought to please Kathleen by sending her the fox's
brush with the following note:—
"DEAR MISS MOUNTFORD,"
"Every one who caught a glimpse of you this morning
was filled with regret at the thought that you were
prohibited from joining in the real pleasure of the
day. I think I may venture to say that no one felt
this more than myself. To be 'so near, and yet so far,'
in touch with, and not permitted to share in what had
brought so many of your friends together, must have
been a trial indeed. I know what it was for me even
to witness your disappointment. I am venturing to send
you the finest trophy of to-day's sport—the brush of a
magnificent animal. I trust you will honour it with a
glance, then send it back by my man, that I may have it
fittingly mounted for you, as a souvenir of the first
meet of the Hollingsby Hunt this season."
"I am, dear Miss Mountford,"
"With much respect, faithfully yours,"
"JOHN TORRANCE."
"Monk's How, November 4."
Kathleen's reply was simple and straightforward.
"DEAR CAPTAIN TORRANCE,"
"I am most grateful for your kind thought of me,
and for your intended present. I know that many girls
would greatly value such a trophy, but in my case it
would cause only pain to possess it. Believe me, you
are mistaken in supposing that I shall ever feel
disappointment in connection with the Hollingsby Hunt.
I was pleased to see such a gathering for once, and I
greatly admired it as a picture. Beyond this, it can
never have the smallest charm for me, and I think it
more than probable that I shall never again be present
at a meet."
"With renewed thanks for the compliment you have
paid me, and best wishes,"
"I am, sincerely yours,"
"KATHLEEN DILLON MOUNTFORD."
"Hollingsby Hall, November."
A second perusal of this note left Captain Torrance in a better temper.
"I see it all now," he thought. "I was a fool to send such a present
to her. She must know the story of her mother's mishap on the field,
whether she knows how it came about or not. Naturally, she hates the
thought of a woman actually joining in the hunt, though, this morning,
I could have been certain that she was pouting because she could not
show off on that handsome mare of hers."
"At any rate, she must feel that I have paid her the greatest
compliment a hunter could, whether she takes his offering or leaves
it. I must give Capes the tip I promised him, after all. He will
be disappointed at not receiving one from the fair hands of Miss
Mountford."
Captain Jack laughed with keen enjoyment at the idea of his messenger's
indignation at a double loss.
Half an hour later Capes was mollified by receiving the promised
douceur from his master, together with a few conciliatory words.
"You did your best, no doubt. It was really I who made a mistake in
offering such a present to a lady who takes no interest in the hunt.
I shall send you with it to Mr. Stapleton, and ask him to present it
to his wife. Only mind, Jem. Not a word must be breathed about Miss
Mountford's having had the first chance of it."
"Hope I know better than that, sir," replied Capes, touching his hat
and looking sagaciously at his master.
Captain Jack was fully convinced that Kathleen would not allude to the
incident, and that Mrs. Ellicott and her daughter would be far from
wishing that any one should know of even this slight correspondence
between Miss Mountford and himself. So in a few minutes Capes was on
his way to Oakwood with a note to Mr. Stapleton, in which the captain
begged that gentleman to present the brush to his wife, as the most
graceful and the bravest lady-rider on the field that day. And, with
the offering, he asked Mr. Stapleton to express the hope, on his
behalf, that she would for many years grace the Hollingsby Hunt with
her presence.
Captain Torrance could be sufficiently punctilious on occasion, and
with all his faults there was a dash of chivalry in his composition.
Besides, he had the memory of the faithful heart which was all his own
during that short married life of his. In every young wife and mother
he seemed to see a reflection of his own lost Adela, and pretty Mrs.
Stapleton, with her little daughter, called forth all the best traits
in Captain Jack's character. Hence the respectful message sent through
the husband, and the offering which gave all the pleasure at Oakwood
which it had failed to give at Hollingsby Hall.
Capes returned to his master in high glee with a note of thanks, and
with his own pocket the heavier by the sovereign which he had given up
as lost.
Both master and man were well pleased. The former was rejoicing that
Kathleen's rejection of his offering had opened for him a new way of
approach to her, and Capes, as he fingered his douceurs in gold and
silver, said to himself, "Better luck next time. If I am not mistaken,
the master is not real sorry for what has happened, and he's not the
one to be daunted by a slap in the face from a girl. He'll find a way
of paying her out some day."
In Kathleen's present mood, she was hardly likely to make a secret
to her own people of Captain Torrance's letter. She was too full of
self-reproach, and a deep sense of the goodness of those whose only
desire had been to keep from her a story that must pain her if told, to
allow of concealment on her part now.
So Mrs. Ellicott, Geraldine, and Aylmer Matheson all saw Captain
Jack's letter, and the last-named, not being present at the time, was
told exactly what answer Kathleen had sent. All were hopeful that the
slight intercourse between Monk's How and Hollingsby Hall would become
slighter still, and perhaps die away altogether.
Kathleen continued to be very gentle in manner for some time after, and
there was a look of thoughtfulness, occasionally of sadness, on her
face not usually seen there.
Aylmer Matheson, who was ever most careful not to take advantage of
his position as guardian, in order to force himself into his ward's
presence with unreasonable frequency, was cheered by the gentle welcome
which Kathleen gave him. One evening she called him "Aylmer," for the
first time since his father's death, which had made him her sole male
trustee. His quick glance of pleasure, as he replied, brought a bright
colour to Kathleen's cheek, and this in turn made the young man's heart
beat rapidly.
On his homeward way Aylmer began again to picture happy possibilities.
He asked himself a thousand questions about Kathleen's changed manner,
and wondered if her alternate shyness, coldness, and frankness towards
him might, after all, be favourably interpreted.
"A proud girl like Kathleen would never allow any man to think that
he was preferred above others," thought he. "One has heard of cases
where girls have treated those they loved best almost with scorn, and
kept them at the greatest possible distance, lest they should betray
their feelings. But this has been when they imagined their affection
was not reciprocated. I have kept aloof from Kathleen, for I could
not bear that any human being should accuse me of taking advantage of
my position. No one shall say that I have striven to entrap my ward
into an engagement during her minority. She must be absolutely her own
mistress before I make any open attempt to gain her affections, though
she can hardly be ignorant of my love for her."
After coming to this conclusion, Aylmer Matheson began to harass
himself with doubts as to the wisdom of this mental decision. There was
another side to be considered. If he held himself aloof, others would
not, and Kathleen might be wooed and won in the meanwhile by some one
of whom no true friend of hers could approve. The "some one" always
took the face and form of Captain Torrance in Aylmer's cogitations, and
whilst he would have been generous enough to resign his own pretensions
in favour of a good man to whom Kathleen had given her heart, he was by
no means inclined to yield them in favour of Captain Jack.
"I must think of Kathleen's welfare, rather than of my own pride.
Surely my character is sufficiently well-known by all for whose good
opinion I need care, to prevent me from being misjudged. No one could
well accuse me of mercenary motives, since I have abundant means of
my own, and Westhill is unencumbered. I would not touch a penny of
Kathleen's money. All should remain entirely at her own disposal
after marriage, as it will be when she comes of age a year hence. Am
I to allow a profligate spendthrift, whose past career will not bear
looking into, to win this girl, who is beautiful, innocent, and rich,
because I am afraid of what the world might say if I strove to gain her
affections whilst she is still my ward?"
The conflict was a severe one, and all through the small hours Aylmer
Matheson debated with himself as to the course he ought to adopt. He
knew one thing of which the dwellers in the little world around him
were in ignorance, and so was Kathleen herself.
When Mr. Mountford had associated him with his father and Mrs.
Ellicott in the guardianship of Kathleen, it will be remembered that a
conversation took place between the elders as to the possibility of a
marriage between Aylmer and his young ward in the distant future. Then
Mr. Matheson confidently asserted that to his son, their positions as
guardian and ward would prove a barrier to any nearer union, as Aylmer
would put aside every thought of self in relation to Kathleen.
Mr. Mountford then expressed his opinion of the young man's worth in
the strongest terms, but shortly before his death he said a few words
to Aylmer himself.
After again commending Kathleen to his care, he added, "Remember,
Aylmer. If when my child is grown-up, you and she desire to enter
into the sweetest and closest of all relationships, you must recall
our conversation of to-day, and feel assured that had her father
been living, his consent and blessing would have been given, and his
dearest wish fulfilled by such a union. But I know you, my dear boy,
and that you will place Kathleen's happiness before your own. I desire,
therefore, that unless you have given her your whole heart and won hers
in return, you will never allude to this conversation. Afterwards, if
all go well, Kathleen will be the happier for knowing that you would
have been the man of all others to whom I would have given my only
child, had I lived to see her married."
The memory of these words was most cheering to Aylmer, but they could
not be used to further his suit. Indeed, he would have scorned to owe
its acceptance to any influence, save that of a whole-hearted love on
the part of Kathleen.
Aylmer finally decided to watch and wait for a while, and he was
rewarded for his patience by a little season of greater happiness than
he had known for a long time past.
It was hardly likely that the effect produced on Kathleen by hearing
her mother's story would pass away all at once. The girl seemed to
have made a great effort at self-conquest, and, since that memorable
evening, had caused Mrs. Ellicott no heart-aches by her fits of
wilfulness.
Aylmer spent more time at the Hall, and no face beamed a brighter
welcome or gave him a sweeter smile of greeting than did Kathleen's.
Geraldine rejoiced—as only an unselfish nature can rejoice—at the new
state of things. She had divined Aylmer's secret, and succeeded in
hiding her own.
As to Captain Torrance, nobody seemed to know what had become of him,
except that he had left home two days after the meet, and taken his boy
with him. Everybody wondered at this, for it was seldom indeed that
Captain Jack absented himself from Hollingsby during the hunting-season.
Kathleen never mentioned him, which was, perhaps, a less favourable
sign for Aylmer than he took it to be. Aylmer himself might well be
forgiven for wishing that the captain's absence would be indefinitely
prolonged, though there were a good many others who hoped that he would
soon return with a replenished purse.
So the time passed until the first week in and Aylmer spent the
interval in a fool's paradise from which he was soon to be rudely
ejected.