A Change of Partners.

Evening Post, Volume LXXIX, Issue 66, 19 March 1910, Page 10

A Change of Partners.

By W. E. NOBRIS, Author of " My Friend Jim," " Flower of the Flock," ©to. (All Eights Reserved.)

Frank Maddison was very unhappy. He was also much astonished, as well as extremely angry, and ho considered that he had ample warrant for being all there. To be curtly, smilingly refused by the girl of your heart must always be a mortifying experience; it becomes an infuriating one when she has for weeks past pretty clearly given you to understand that you had only to speak the word and that al' would be well. So it was with a red lace and a soul full of bitterness that this handsome young gentleman stalked away from Combe Park, where Miss Cicely Bayford lived, and made for his own neighbouring domain of Rushdon, where, alai ! she would never live now. Perhaps he had made rather too sure of success. She had incidentally intimated as much, and indeed it was evident enough that he had been mistaken in her j yet he could not help thinking that that had been at least as much her fault as bis. In any case, she had had no sort of right to imply, what was absolutely untrue, that he had relied upon his undeniable advantages to win for him a prize of infinitely greater value than all the money and lands in the world. At least, he had honestly believed the "prize in question to be of that inestimable worth ; but one lives and learns. Now that he knew the girl to be a mere heartless flirt, of course matters were alteied. For the rest, he was certainly entitled to regard himself as eligible. Young, good-looking, and master of a fine estate, to which he had somewhat unexpectedly succeeded & few months before, there were not a great many spinsters in the county or out of it who would have been likely to turn up their noses at him. He said to himself, as he strode along through the deepening darkness of a grey autumn afternoon, that the sea was stiJl stocked with good fish ; ho likewise said that a man in his situation was bound to marry ; finally he groaned out that lie would never in his life want to marry anybody except cruel, flaxen-headed, blue-eyed Cicely Bayford. This was so dreadfully sad that ii> would not bear thinking about. There are, however, sorrows — and this seemed U. be one of them — which will not only bear talking about, but even, in the case of certain expansive temperaments, insist on being talked about. That, no doobt, was why- Mr. Maddison, when he found himself at the entrance of Down Cottage, hesitated for a moment, then marched up to the door and, ringing the bell/ asked whether Miss Hart- - ley was at home. The maid answered that Miss Hartley was in, but that Mrs. Hartley was not very well, and had not been aWe to leave her room all day. He politely said that he was sorry for that (although in truth he was not the least sorry), and presently he was seated beside a cheerful fire, while tall, dark Miss Hartley, who was Cicely's intimate friend, and who had been most kind and friendly to him too ever since he had bectane her neighbour, poured out a cup of tea for him. He poured out, in return, his tale of woe, to which sympathising attention was given. Everybody in those parts was agreed that a more sympathising and sympathetic person than Geraldine Hartley did not breathe. Clever, too, and bravely competent to deal with the daily problems of straitened means. The tiny cottage which she and her invalid mother rented at a nominal figure, from Colonel Bayford was charmingly furnished ; Geraldine herself always contrived to be charmingly, if very simply, dressed; and as for her persona] charm — well, that was doubtless a gift of the gods, and possibly she did not merit praise for possessing it, although she was inevitably loved for it. This charm of hers had never been more apparent or more soothing to Frank Maddifon than it was now, while sho sat listening tp him, vith her bands lightly clasped on her knees and her soft grey eyes saying a good deal more than her tongue did. As a matter o f fact, her tongue said remarkably little ; but she quite understood, which was the main thing. She could not be expected to speak against her friend Cicely ; she could hardly be expected, perhaps, to tell him that he had been abominably treated. It was enough that she should think so. In the matter of counsel and comfort, she | limited herself to remarking that very few things in life are as unfortunate as they seem to be at first sight, and that if one has made a mistake, one may at least be thankful when it id not an irremediable one. She did not advise him to try again — he had not the slightest intention of trying again, and would deeply have re. c ented such a suggestion — but she hoped and believed the day would come whon he would be able to look back upon this trial without blaming anybody for it. She may have been a trifle over sanguine there, for Frank's personal conviction was that he would blame, and justly blame. Cicely Bayford us long as he lived ; but,* on the other hand, the day on which ne was to announce that he no longer regretted what had happened to him arrived with amazing rapidity. It arrived, to be precise, exactly a fortnight after that of nis rejectioii, and on each of th« preceding thirteen, days he had had interviews of varying" length with kind Miss Hartley, who had. either welcomed him to her hospitable fireside or h>d met him by appointment in the woods and glades of his own adjacent demesne. She wai patient, the was intelligent, she was not too compassionate, she had an indescribable knack of putting him in good humour with himself. Moreover, she war unquestionably beautiful — far more so, when you came to think of it, than Cicely Bayford, And since it was imperative that ' Rushdon Hall should bo giveir'a mistress, why seek farther afield, with the practical certainty of faring worse? Thus it came to pass that on th« fourteenth day Miss Hartley received convincing proof of the efficacy of her curative treatment. She said gravely :—: — "1 take tnis as a very high compliment indeed. You come to me, bleeding from your wounds — " "I'm not bleeding a bit !" interrupted Frank. "Oh, you'r-3 bleeding. Nevertheless, you come to me in that lacerated condition and commit yonr whole future to mv hands! It shows that 1 must have great influence with you, and such influence as that over a fellow-creature isn't » thing to be lightly thrown away. One can't but recognise the responsibility that it carries with it. It seems to me that I ought not to refuse you; though Of course you are not in love with me." "Of course I am !' the young man protested. "Do you think I should ask you to marry me, Geraldine, if I weren't?"' "1 don't quite know what U. think yet, except that, as I say, the confidence which you must feel in me is both flattering and in a manner^ compelling. I hardly like to reject it—' He interrupted her again, and this time the interruption was of a demonstrative character which she at once.checked. There must be nothing of that

kind yet, she said. An engagement, yes; she would agree to an engagement, upon the condition that it was not to ba publicly given out; but he would undei stand that before she could definitely consent to be his wife it \Hould be necessary for her to test the sincerity of the sentiments which she possessed. The- young man had to admit, rather reluctantly, that this was not unreasonable He hoped, however, that hih period of probation would not be unduly protracted j he desired to &ay moat empnatically that he, for his part, held himfc«lf bound to Mi^s Hartley ; and ho was- of opinion that, sine© tbe matter was really as good as eettled, immediate neighbour*, at all events, might be informed of it. '"The Bayfords, for inbtanee, ought to be told, I think." *Oh, if you mean that you want Cicely to be told, I have no objection," answered Ueraldine, repressing a short outbreak of laughter, in which her euitor did not join. "I will tell her myself, as a coniiueutial communication, if you like." She kept her woid that same aiternoon. Of course, as Cicely Bayford's close friend, *he had already heard that young lady's version of an affair which had caused no tnjaU surprise and annoyance in the Combe Park household. Consequently she had been made aware that if Frank Maddison had been bent to the right-about he had only his own insufferable assurance and conceit to thaok, and that no girl with a particle of self-respect could think of accepting a man who took, her answer for granted before she had opened her lips. Geraldine bad not said a word in contravention of that view, but had listened sympathisingly, as was her wont, and had certainly seemed to approve of her friend's action. To most people, therefore, the tabk of announcing a purpose to become her friend's successor might have presented itself as somewhat formidable ; but Gera{dine was always self-posses*ed. "Yes, I know it sounds rather shocking,' bhe gently admitted, in reply to certain trenchant comments ; "but that should not deter one from undertaking what looks like a distinct mission. 1 leally believe that I—and1 — and perhaps nobody else — caD cure poor, dear Frank of thtibe little defects of character which have, naturally enough, repelled you. It must be owned that he needs tome reforming." "I snould rather think he did!" exclaimed the irate Miss Bayford. "So I have macje up my mind to try. But, Cicely dear, you mustn't cry about it, or you'll discourage me at the outset." "I am not crying!" declared Cicely indignantly. "At least, if I am," she added, "it's for you, not for myself, Heaven knows! I'm more glad than I can say to have done with him. But it's too dreadful that you should throw yourself away upon such a shallow, contemptible fellow ! I'm sure you know that I don't say it to be disagreeable, Geraldine, but — you can't possibly believe that he carea for you I" "He says he does," Mits Hartley replied, with her quiet smile. "Perhaps, even if he doesn't, he may be taught to do so. I hope to teach him a good deal in a comparatively short tpace of time." ' Her hopes were fulfilled. Her hopes generally were; for she was a serenely resolute person. Whether the lessons which &ho inculcated were of a nature to promote poor Frank Maddifon's immediate happiness was another que&tion. He was to discover not only that his future wife meant- tb be obeyed, but that tho had been very* literally in earnest when she had bpoken of testing him. The methods by which she contrived to open his eyes to the distressing fact that he was a rather raw and self-satis-fied youth were too numerous and too diverse to be recorded at length. In employing them she doubtless achieved ono of her objects, and it may be that she did not much caie if she sacrificed that other which she had mentioned to Cicely as being possible of attainment, fle did as he waa bid ; for he was upon his trial and in some sense upon his honour ; but he thought Geraldine needlessly cruel, and what he especially resented was her insistence upon his accompanying her almost daily to%Combe Park. It was true that, as she urged, he had no quarrel with the Bayfords, und it was certain that the master of the house, who would gladly have welcomed him as a son-in-law, had no wish for a rupture of friendly relations ; but, under all the circumstance, be could not enjoy meeting Cicely, much less being left alone with her. And Geraldine was perpetually finding pretexts for leaving him alone with her. "I do think you might- spare me these interviews," he remonstrated, as he was leaving the house with his amiable tyrant one evening ; "you don't know how beastly they are !" "I can guess," she tranquilly replied ; ''but you mustn't ask to be spaied anything yet. You are being tested, remember. Be not weary in well-doing ; in duo season you will reap if you faint not." He was beginning to be weary ; *c was beginning to think that he would rather like to faint ; he was beginning to think that he would rather like to die. Geraldine, it had to be assumed, meant well ; but she was trying him too high ly, ehv was overshooting the mark. She could not have realised what sufferings a man must undergo when he is continually thrown into the company and exposed to the pitiless sarcasms of a girl whom he has once loved. Whether Miss Hartley realised hi* sufferings or not, she showed no sign of putting a term to them. Tbe advent of a young man, Longridge by name, who, after some weeks, came to stay at Combe Park, and who was described to him aik a rising barristei , ought to have given him relief, inasmuch as this stranger lost no time in making hot, undisguised love to Cicely ; but Frank, being for various reasons sore all over, was bard to please, and his sole sentiment with regard to Mr. Anthony Longridge was an overwhelming desire to take a running kick at that gentleman. Perhaps Anthony Longridge deserved to be kicked, and perhaps Geraldine Hartley was entitled to think bo. She was at any rate, entitled to rebuke him, as she did, for the very rude and violent language in which he saw fit to address her immediately after his arrival. If, a twelvemonth back, he had addressed her in a very different fashion, and if since then he had not troubled himself to address her at all, what was she to conclude, except that be had become oblivious of her existence"' It was all very well to allege that he had honourably abstained from offering marriage until his prospects should justify him — as they now did — in 'taking ?uch a step ; but how could she know that without being told? She had been left free ; and since somebody, it appeared, had informed Mr. Longridge that she was going to marry Frank Maddiwn, she would not deny the truth of the statement, although the engagement had not yet been made public. Thereupon Mr. Longridge, after sardonic compliments and wrathful congratulations, observed that he also was now free and that there were developments which made a man feel jolly thankful for his freedom. He made such prompt and practical use of the recovered privilege that at the end of a week' he was engaged to

Cicely Bayford; and really it was doubtful whether this precipitate betrothal brought happiness or s-ati&faction to a single one of those directly oi indirectly concerned therein. Anthony Longridge had proposed to Cicely for no better reason than that he was "furious with a certain lady who had, as he considered, virtually jilted him ; Cicely had accepted his offer for tho sake of being avenged upon Frank, and perhaps also a little in order to show a kind friend of hers that the game of appropriating other people's admirers is one at which two can play ; Colonel and Mrs. Bayford were anything but pleased with a match which they could not quite see their way tv veto, yet which they did not deem nearly good enough for their spoilt child. It was, therefore, no wonder that the persons above enumerated went about with smiles more or less visibly wry on their faces ; but assured"l can't see why you should think it so. I was not surprised at Cicely's being rather disgusted with you for transferring your iiffections so suddenly, because you really were in love with her you know ; but as it appears that she never was in love with you, you can hardly accuse her of inconsistency, can you s"' He was ready to quarrel over it; but to quarrel with Geraldine Hartley against her wish would have required more dexterity than he could boast of. Besides, to teU the truth, he had grown more than a little afraid of her. She had a faculty for reading his inmost thoughts which was at times most disconcerting ; latterly, too, she had proved quite as adroit in putting him out of conceit with himself as she had been at the start in smoothing his ruffled plumage. He longed to be off his bargain (it had come to that !), but he was very sure that she did not intend to let him off, and he was irrevocably pledged. Well, if it was impossible to quarrel with Geraldine, there was no difficulty at all about quarrelling with Cicely, and this he discovered as soon as be took it upon him to let her know what he thought of her behaviour in engaging herself to a man for whom he was convinced that she had no genuine affection. She turned upon him at once with an obvious retort, and forthwith they set to work to exchange mutual denunciations Until ono of them was out of breath and the other was in tears. It was at the annual Combe Park ball that this very undignified scene took place. Frank and Cicely, who had been dancing together, had retired into the untenanted billiard-room, and had there so far forgotten what was due to themselves and ono another as to fall out in the manner described. But that was not the worst of it. The worst of it was that recriminations had led on to implied avowals, and so, when Cicely began to cry, Frank's arms were round her before he had time to recognise the enormity of such modes of consolation. He recognised this to the full on hearing a subdued cough — or was it a smothered laugh ? — close to his elbow, and of becoming aware of two interested spectators, neither of whom looked quite as indignant as the case warranted. But he was too dumfoundered to notice their 'ooks, and could only stare stupid ly at them in mute, dismay. Cicely displayed more presence of mind. She freed herself from Frank's encircling, arm, hastily dried her eyes, and said : "Mr. Longridge, our engagement is off." "So it appears," remarked Mr. Londridge ironically. Then Frank got up and turned to Ger aldiue with the air of a dying gladiator who demands the coup de grace. "Well," said be, "there it is ! I've nothing to say for myself — nothing ! What are you going to do with mo?" Miss Hartley tapped her chin medita tively with her closed fan. "1 am just wondering," was her calm response. 1 suppose an action for breach of promise would lie, and heavy damages might teach you a lesson ; but really you have had about as many lessons of one kind and another from me as I care to give you, and I am inclined to leave the finishing touches of your education to Cicely. It has escaped your memory, no doubt, that you svere to have been my partner for the dance wh'cli is just beginning — " "And sliss Bayford was to have been mine," put in Longridge. "Yes, Geraldine resumed ; "but, all things considered, perhaps »ye may as well agree to an exchange." So, although the other counle did not return to the ballroom, she and Longridge had that waltz together, and when it was over, he said : "Geraldine, it's my belief that the whole lot of us have danced to your piping from firsl to last." "Is it really, Anthony?" die asked, with a demure smile. "But then you're so abnormally acute !"