The laugh floated up to Drake as he sat and finished his pipe, waiting
until the party should get clear away, and his lips tightened grimly.
Then he sighed and shrugged his shoulders, as he rose and went slowly up
the hill.
After all, Lucille had only acted as he had expected. As he had said,
she had engaged herself to Viscount Selbie, the heir to Angleford--not
to Viscount Selbie, whose nose had been put out of joint by his uncle's
marriage. He could not have expected a Lady Lucille Turfleigh to be
faithful to her troth under such changed circumstances. But her
desertion made him sore, if not actually unhappy. Indeed, he was rather
surprised to find that he was more wounded in pride than heart. It is
rather hurtful to one's vanity and self-esteem to be told by the woman
whom you thought loved you, that she finds it "impossible" to marry you
because you have lost your fortune or your once roseate prospects; and
though Drake was the least conceited of men, he was smarting under the
realization of his anticipations.
"She never loved me," he said bitterly. "Not one word of regret--real
regret. She would have felt and shown more if she had been parting with
a favorite horse or dog. God! what women this world makes of them! They
are all alike! There's not one of them can love for love's sake, who
cares for the man instead of the money. Not one, from the dairymaid to
the duchess! Thank Heaven! my disillusionment has come before, instead
of after, marriage. Yes, I've done with them. There is no girl alive, or
to be born, who can make me feel another pang."
As he spoke, he heard a voice calling him: "Mr. Vernon! Mr. Vernon!" And
there, in the garden, which stood out on the hill like a little terrace,
was Nell. She had taken off her hat, and the faint breeze was stirring
the soft tendrils on her forehead, and her eyes smiled joyously down at
him.
"Tea is ready!" she said, her voice full and round, and coming down to
him like the note of a thrush. "Where have you been? Mamma is quite
anxious about you, and I have had the greatest difficulty in convincing
her that there has not been an accident, and that I had not left you at
the bottom of the bay."
He smiled up at her, but his smile came through the darkness of a cloud,
and she noticed it.
"Has--has anything happened?" she asked, as she opened the gate for him;
and her guileless eyes were raised to his with a sudden anxiety. "Are
you ill--or--or overtired? Ah, yes! that must be it. I am so sorry!"
He frowned, and replied, almost harshly:
"Thanks. I am not in the least tired. How should I be? Why do you think
so?"
Nell shrank a little.
"I--I thought you looked pale and tired," she said, in a voice so low
and sweet that he was smitten with shame.
"Perhaps I am a bit played out," he said apologetically, and passing his
hand over his brow as if to erase the lines which the scene with Lady
Lucille had etched. "Your convalescent invalid is a trying kind of
animal, Miss Nell, and--and you must forgive it for snapping."
"There is nothing to forgive," she said quietly. "It was thoughtless of
me to let you stay out so long, and I deserve the lecture mamma has been
giving me. Please come in to tea at once, or it will be repeated--the
lecture, I mean."
They went into the drawing-room, where Mrs. Lorton sat with due state
and dignity before her tea table; and, having got him into the
easy-chair, the good lady began at once:
"So thoughtless of Eleanor to keep you out so long! You must be
exhausted, I am sure. I know how trying the first days of recovery from
illness are, and how even a little exertion will produce absolute
collapse. Now, will you have a little brandy in your tea, Mr. Vernon? A
teaspoonful will sometimes produce a magical effect," she added, as if
she were recommending a peculiarly startling firework. "No? You are
quite sure? And what is this Richard is telling me about two horses? He
came rushing in just now with some story of horses that he had brought
from Shallop."
Drake looked up with a casual air.
"Yes; they're mine. I was obliged to have them sent down. They were
spoiling for want of exercise. I must turn them out in some of the
fields here, or get some one to ride them, unless Dick and Miss Nell
will be good-natured enough to exercise them."
Nell laughed softly.
"That is one way of putting it, isn't it, mamma? But I tell Mr. Vernon
that I really must not, ought not, to take advantage of his good nature.
It's all very well for Dick to----"
"What's all very well for Dick? And don't you take my name in vain quite
so freely, young party," remarked that individual, entering the room and
making for the tea table. "Don't you be taken in by all this pretended
reluctance, Mr. Vernon. It's the old game of Richard III. refusing the
crown. See English history book. Nell will be on that mare to-morrow
morning safe enough, won't you, Nellikins? And I say, sir, you must get
your arm right and ride with her. Perhaps she would not be too proud to
take lessons from a stranger--from you, I mean--though she does turn up
her nose at her brother's kindly meant hints, an operation which, as I
am perpetually telling her, is quite superfluous, for it's turned up
quite sufficiently as it is."
Nell glanced at Mrs. Lorton, who smiled with the air of a society lady
settling a point of etiquette.
"If Mr. Vernon has really been so kind as to offer to lend you a horse,
it would be ungrateful and churlish to refuse, Eleanor," she said.
"That's all right," said Dick. "Though you might say 'Thank you,' Nell.
But, there; you'll never learn manners, though you may, after some long
years, learn to ride. Did you see that yacht, sir?" he asked, turning to
Drake.
Drake nodded carelessly.
"A spanker, wasn't she?" continued Dick. "Now, that's what I call a
yacht. And hadn't she some swells on board! I met some of them coming up
the hill. Talk about stylish togs!"
"No one talks of 'stylish togs' but savages in the wilds of London, and
vulgar boys," remarked Nell.
Dick regarded her wistfully, and raised the last piece of the crust of
his slice of bread and butter to throw at her, then refrained, with a
reluctant sigh.
"I never saw anything like it out of a fashion plate. You ought to have
been there, mamma," he put in, parenthetically. "You'd have appreciated
them, no doubt, whereas I wasn't capable of anything but staring. They
were swells--real swells, too; for I spoke to one of the crew who had
Strolled up from the boat. The yacht's that racer, the _Seagull_. Do you
know her, Mr. Vernon?"
"I've heard of her," said Drake.
"I forget the name of her owner; though the man told me; but he's a
nobleman of sorts. There were no end of titled and fashionable people on
board. A Sir--Sir Archie something; and a Lord and Lady Turfleigh,
father and daughter--perhaps you know them?"
Drake looked at him through half-closed eyes.
"Yes, I've heard of them," he said. "May I have another cup of tea, Mrs.
Lorton? Thanks, very much. The sail this morning has made me ravenous."
"I am so delighted," murmured Mrs. Lorton. "What name did you say,
Richard? Turfleigh! Surely I have heard or seen that name----"
"I beg your pardon," said Drake, "but if Dick has quite finished his
tea, I think I'll stroll down to the stables and look at the horses."
"Oh, right you are! Come on!" exclaimed Dick, with alacrity.
Mrs. Lorton looked after the tall figure as it went out beside the
boy's.
"Mr. Vernon must be very well off, Eleanor," she said musingly, and with
a little, satisfied smile at the corners of her mouth. "Three horses.
And have you noticed that pearl stud? It is a black one, and must have
cost a great deal; and there is a certain look, air, about him, which
you, my dear Eleanor, are not likely to notice or understand, but which,
to one of my experience of the world, is significant. Did he seem to
enjoy his sail this morning?"
"Yes, I think so," absently replied Nell, who was watching the tall
figure as it went down the hill.
Mrs. Lorton coughed in a genteel fashion, and her smile grew still more
self-satisfied.
"He could not be in a better place," she said; "could not possibly, and
I do trust he will not think of leaving us until he is quite restored to
health. I must really impress upon him how glad we are to have him, and
how his presence cheers our dull and lonely lives."
Nell laughed softly.
"Mr. Vernon does not strike me as being particularly cheerful," she
remarked; "at least, not generally," she qualified, as she remembered
the unwonted brightness which he had displayed in the _Annie Laurie_.
"In-deed! You are quite wrong, Eleanor," said Mrs. Lorton stiffly. "I
consider Mr. Vernon a most entertaining and brilliant companion; and I,
for one, should very deeply deplore his departure. I trust, therefore,
you will do all you can to make his stay pleasant and to induce him to
prolong it. Three horses; ahem!"--she coughed behind her mittened
hand--"has he--er--hinted, given you any idea of his position
and--er--income, Eleanor?"
Nell flushed and shook her head.
"No, mamma," she said reluctantly. "Why should he? We are not
curious----"
"Certainly not!" assented Mrs. Lorton, bridling. "I may have my faults,
but curiosity is certainly not one of them. I merely thought that he
might have dropped a word or two about himself, or his people, and
the--ahem!--extent of his fortune."
Nell shook her head again.
"Nary a word--I mean, not a word!" she corrected herself hastily; "and,
like yourself, mamma, I am not curious. What does it matter what and who
he is, or who his people are? He will be gone in a day or two, and we
shall probably never see him again."
She moved away from the window as she made the response, and began to
sing, and Mrs. Lorton looked after her, and listened to the sweet young
voice, with a smile on her weakly shrewd face.
"Eleanor has grown a great deal lately," she murmured to herself; "and I
suppose some men would consider her not altogether bad-looking. I am
quite certain he is a single man--he would have mentioned his wife; he
couldn't have avoided it the first night I was talking to him. Three
horses--yes; I suppose Eleanor really is good-looking. No one is more
opposed than I am to the vulgar practice of matchmaking, which some
women indulge in, but it really would be a mercy to get the girl
settled. Yes; he must not think of leaving us until he is quite strong;
and that won't be for some weeks, for some time, yet."
Drake went down to the stables with Dick and "looked at" the horses,
every now and then casting a glance through the open door at the
_Seagull_ as it sailed across the bay.
Did he regret the woman who had jilted him? Did he wish that he were on
board his yacht with his friends, with the badinage, the scandal of the
women, the jests and the doubtful stories of the men? He scarcely knew;
he thought that he was sorrowing for the fair woman who had deserted
him; but--he was not sure. From the meadows above there came the tinkle
of a sheep bell, a lowing of a cow calling to her calf; the scent of the
tar from a kettle on the beach rose with sharp pungency; the haze of the
summer evening was blurring the hills which half ringed the sapphire
sea. There was peace at Shorne Mills--a peace which fell upon the weary
man of the world. He forgot his troubles for a moment; his lost
inheritance, his debts, and difficulties; forgot even Woman and all she
had cost him.
Then suddenly, faintly, there came floating down to him the clear, sweet
voice of Nell. What was it she was singing?
"Though years have passed, I love you yet;
Do you still remember, or do you forget?"
A great wave of bitterness swept over him, and, between his teeth, he
muttered:
"They are all alike--with the face and the voice of an angel, and the
heart of the Man with the Muck-rake. God save me from them from this
time henceforth!"