CHAPTER VI.

"LOVE ME, LOVE MY DOG."

Captain Howard Murpoint had not exaggerated his powers of pleasing when

making that important communication and revelation to his accomplice,

Jem, under the Portland cliffs.

He had not been in possession of the marvelously comfortable suite of

rooms at Mildmay Park many days before young and old, mistress and

servants, were ready to pronounce the captain a most agreeable man, and

his servant, Jem, a most amusing and obliging fellow.

The morning after his arrival the captain came down to breakfast

elegantly attired in a loose velvet shooting-coat, which set off his

strong, well-made figure to advantage.

His smooth face was set with a pleasant smile, and his voice was toned

to a half-affectionate interest as he shook hands with Mrs. Mildmay.

"I hope you slept well, Captain Murpoint?" she murmured.

The captain declared that he had never slept better, and that his

quarters were all that could be wished.

"Violet is not down yet," said Mrs. Mildmay. "She is late, but we were

rather later than usual last night, and, I dare say, the excitement of

your arrival made her feel tired. Ah, there she is."

And Violet entered at the moment, and came up to give her aunt the

morning kiss.

Then she turned to the captain, and once again his bold, watchful eyes

shrank for a moment before the clear, calm gaze of her pure ones.

His salutation was a finished piece of acting, so reverential, so

paternally affectionate, and so respectful.

Violet shook hands with him, and tripped to her seat.

"And did the ghosts annoy you?" she asked, as the captain spoke of his

night's rest.

"No; they were considerate to their guest. Perhaps when we are more

familiar they may be more troublesome. You have had a good night's

sleep, 'tis evident," he continued, glancing admiringly at her fair,

fresh, blooming face.

"I always sleep well," said Violet, simply. "Neither ghosts nor

indigestion disturb me."

"I thought perhaps that our little party had tired you, my dear," said

Mrs. Mildmay.

"No, aunt," replied Violet. "It was a very pleasant one," she added,

musingly.

"Very, the pleasantest I have participated in for some time," said the

captain, with some truth. "I must congratulate you upon having some

really agreeable neighbors. The vicar was a most delightful man, and

Mr. and Mrs. Giles are most amiable."

"And what did you think of the Dodsons?" asked Mrs. Mildmay, with a

half sigh.

"Most agreeable people," replied the captain. "So original and

unaffected. The young fellow pleased me exceedingly," and he glanced at

Violet, under his dark brows.

"They are quite new friends--acquaintances," said Mrs. Mildmay. "Last

night was the first time we have had the pleasure of their company.

"Indeed!" said the captain, with interest. "Newcomers, I suppose?"

"No; they have been here some time," answered Mrs. Mildmay. "They live

in the large, red house, the Cedars; perhaps you did not notice it? You

can see it from the dining-room windows. They are friends of Violet's

making and--and though very agreeable people, still----"

"Still, they are--tallow chandlers," put in Violet, wickedly, "and aunt

cannot forgive them."

Captain Murpoint smiled a peculiar smile of conciliation for both the

ladies.

"Tallow chandlers," he said, "can be very agreeable people; but I

understand your aunt's prejudice, my dear Miss Mildmay----"

"And I cannot," said Violet, with quiet gravity. "My father," and her

voice lowered softly, "must have bought tallow when he traded with

Russia, as I have heard, and I cannot see much difference between

buying it in the first instance and melting it in the second."

"There is a difference," said the captain, softly. "But, putting the

question aside, I thought the Dodsons extremely nice people, and Mr.

Leicester Dodson a well-informed person."

Violet looked at her plate. She did not echo the captain's praise or

qualify it, so one could not tell whether she thought Mr. Leicester

clever or not.

"Violet made their acquaintance in quite a romantic fashion," said Mrs.

Mildmay, harping upon the subject, and she proceeded to recount the

adventure of the parasol upon the cliffs.

While they were talking, Violet, who was facing the window which

overlooked the lawn, saw the tall, graceful figure of Leicester Dodson

sauntering up the path toward the house, in the indolent way which

distinguished him.

"There is Mr. Dodson," she said. "I'll tap at the window; he may as

well come in this way as walk up to the front."

And so she tapped.

Mr. Leicester looked over the whole of the house, as usual, before

settling upon the right window, then, when he did, he lifted his hat,

with a grave smile that was also a very pleased one, and came across

the lawn.

"Will you consent to make such an undignified entry?" said Violet.

"Yes," said Mr. Leicester, and, stooping, stepped into the room. "I'm

afraid I'm too early," he said, shaking hands with Mrs. Mildmay and

the captain. "But I thought if I left it till the middle of the day it

would be too hot, and if I left it till the evening it would be too

near dinner, and that after dinner----"

"We should be all asleep," said Violet, quietly.

"Exactly," assented Mr. Leicester, gravely.

"We are very glad to see you at any time," said Mrs. Mildmay. "And I

think it is very kind of you to take the trouble on such a warm day, to

come and see Violet's dog; poor fellow! we cannot think what ails his

leg."

"We shall perhaps be able to find out," said Mr. Leicester.

"Will you take a cup of coffee?" asked Violet.

"Yes, I will, please," he said. "Coffee is a good antidote to the heat,

is it not, Captain Murpoint?"

"Yes," said the captain, who had taken the opportunity to scrutinize

the young man's face during the exchange of remarks; "yes, with a

little curry powder added. We used to take it with chillies every

morning at Madras."

Mr. Leicester sipped his coffee and chatted in his grave way; then,

when the coffee had disappeared, Violet rose to conduct him to the

stables.

When they reached the stables, where Violet was welcomed by many a

groom and stable-help with smiles and hat-touchings, the great mastiff

Leo came limping out of his kennel, baying and throwing up its head,

with mingled pain and pleasure.

"Poor old fellow," said Violet. "See, isn't it a pity? He is very

fierce," she added, as the dog eyed the stranger with suspicious,

threatening aspect.

"I'm not afraid of a dog," said Mr. Leicester, quietly, and without

hesitation he knelt down and stroked the thick, smooth neck. The dog

growled and put its paws on his shoulder.

"Oh, please be careful!" said Violet, apprehensively. "Quiet, Leo!

Quiet, sir."

Mr. Dodson, however, did not seem at all nervous and, with a grave,

"Poor old man!" took hold of the bad foot and examined it.

"There's a thorn in this foot, or there was, and it is festering. I

prescribe a poultice," he said.

"Oh, dear me! who is to put it on?" said Violet.

"I will," said Mr. Leicester, "if you will be kind enough to order some

warm water and linseed."

Violet, without any further fuss, sent one of the grooms for the

required articles, and Mr. Leicester seated himself on the top of the

kennel and talked to the dog until they came.

Then he mixed the poultice, applied it, and washed his hands, all with

the same self-composed gravity which half amused Violet and half awed

her.

This Mr. Leicester, whom she had once almost despised for being the son

of a tallow melter was gradually winning her respect and setting her

thinking.

"How kind of you," she said. "I am really very grateful. But I am

ashamed that you should have had so much trouble."

"Not at all. I am very fond of dogs," said Mr. Leicester, and the

speech, though it seemed ungracious, was pleasantly spoken.

"If you are fond of horses, come and see my ponies," said Violet, in

her frank way, and they turned to the stables.

"They are a pretty pair; they'd go well in tandem," said Mr. Leicester,

thoughtfully.

"Would they?" said Violet, eagerly. "How I should like to drive them.

Is it difficult?"

"No," said Mr. Leicester, "not at all, when you have acquired the

knack. If you will allow me, I will show you how to drive the ponies

tandem."

"Thank you so much," said Violet, gratefully; "but are you sure that it

will not bore you? I know gentlemen dislike being bored."

"No, it will give me great pleasure," he said, simply. "When will you

take the first lesson?"

"Oh, you shall say the time."

"This afternoon, at five?"

"Yes," said Violet; "I shall be delighted! Oh, I forgot!" she added,

quickly, and with an unmistakable air of disappointment. "I am to drive

Captain Murpoint over to the village, and perhaps he would not care to

risk his neck."

Captain Murpoint came from the house at that moment to answer the

question.

"Will you be present at a little equestrian experiment, Captain

Murpoint?" asked Mr. Leicester.

The captain smiled.

"Are you going to ride three of Miss Mildmay's horses a-row?" he said,

with his smooth smile.

"No; Mr. Dodson has been kind enough to offer to teach me how to drive

tandem," said Violet.

"I shall be only too delighted to make a spectator."

"Will you come into the house again?" she asked, as Mr. Leicester

raised his hat and paused at the walk leading to the gate.

"No thank you," he said. "I am going down to the village for my mother.

Good-morning. Good-morning, Captain Murpoint." And he sauntered off.

They repaired to the drawing-room, that being the coolest part of the

house, and there the captain was most attentive. The conversation got

on to the topic of music, and Violet turned over her new songs, and

at last, in answer to a question whether he sang or not, the captain

offered to sing.

He seated himself at the piano, struck a few chords, and commenced a

barcarole in so sweet and yet powerful a voice that Violet was charmed.

The music drew Mrs. Mildmay into the room from another part of the

house, and the morning, which Violet had feared would be extremely

dull, promised to pass away most pleasantly.

While he was singing, Violet heard her door open.

She was standing at the piano, and she did not turn her head, but

raised her eyes to a mirror which hung over the instrument, and which

reflected the whole of the room.

As she did so, she saw that the door was opened by the captain's

servant, and her gaze was riveted by the picture which the mirror

showed her.

The man, thinking himself unobserved was standing, with the door handle

in his hand, with such an expression of infinite mockery and sardonic

amusement on his evil face that Violet felt herself fascinated and

strangely impressed by it.

Suddenly the captain raised his eyes, and she knew by the look of

mingled anger, alarm, and suspicion which displaced the smile upon his

face that he was conscious of her fixed attention upon the mirror.

He finished the song abruptly, turned his head, and saw Jem Starling,

whose face instantly resumed its usual snug demureness.

"Well, James?"

"A letter, captain," said James, "marked 'immediate.'"

The captain took it.

Jem left the room.

"Pray, do not mind us," said Mrs. Mildmay, and, with a bow, the captain

took out his letter, which he had thrust into his pocket.

He was almost on the point of returning into the hiding place, for at a

glance he saw that it was only a sham one--an old envelope sealed up.

However, with his usual quickness, he decided to open it, and,

accordingly, made a slight fuss with the seal, and, taking out a piece

of paper, read:

"The pleece inspector's cum down to-day."

Captain Murpoint smiled.

"Business, my dear madam; business men always mark their letters

'immediate,'" and he thrust the letter into his pocket, and commenced

talking as if the matter were of no moment.

Violet played a little, and practiced some new song, and Mrs. Mildmay

ventured to pass through the French window into the garden, the captain

accompanying her.

It was after they had left the room that Violet, happening to glance at

the carpet, saw a scrap of paper by her side.

It was the captain's note.

"'The pleece inspector's cum down to-day,'" she said; "why, where can

this have come from?"

For the moment she thought that it must be the letter which the captain

had received, but the scrap of paper had so little of the appearance of

a missive that had come through the post, and the information seemed

to have still less connection with the captain, that she dismissed the

idea.

"Strange," she said, and, with a laugh, she put the piece of paper in

her pocket.

The captain had pulled it from his with his pocket handkerchief.

The spider and the fly · 第 6 / 32 章