FATE, LORD LEYLAND AND A BABY.

Lyttelton Times, Volume CXXII, Issue 15511, 11 January 1911, Page 13

FATE, LORD LEYLAND AND A BABY.

(Ev DORA IYESPAIGNE ;. CHAPMAN.) Author of ■“ Lady Peggy’s Prince,” “ The Daffodil Tower,” etc. : [Ann Rights Reserved.] , Th© west-bound mail was already jnoving as. Leyland ran up the platform,.; dodged two porters and the fuard, wrenched open a door, and flung imself victoriously into the last carriage. Too late, ho perceived with dismay that malign Fate had led him to Violate the seclusion of a “ ladies only”; that the further end of the compartment was entirely occupied by a. year-old baby, under escort of a fluffy, foolish-looking mother, and protected by piled outworks of small luggage; and- that he. Jack Leyland, must consequently place himself baok to the engine, and onposite Miss AnBtiss Forrest, the well-known lecturer on women’s suffrage, and perhaps the one woman in the world whom the youthful, chivalrous, but exceedingly old-fashioned Earl of Leyland would confess that, he thoroughly and heartily disliked. . He reflected that it would have been better to miss his train than to spend two mortal hours tete-a-tete with such a companion. He had never before been thus entirely at her mercy—liad but seldom spoken to her, in fact—though he had more than once spoken at her from the platform—and much be feared the lady would seize this unrivalled opportunity for pressing her views upon him,. Perhaps Miss Forrest read his thoughts, for a haif-ironical smile Boftened the corners of her mouth as she held out her hand.

.“You are going down to Easton Lanyon, I suppose? So am I,” she began in her low, clear voice. “ Kitty has been kind enough to ask me to tneet tho new member. She suggests l may be able to convert him, but I’m tfraicl you will act as a counter-irri-int—or should I say aa an antidote?’’ “The latter. I hope,” said the young man stiffly. It always set his nerves cn edge to hear Miss Forrest speak of his sister by her Christian, name. Ho felt'that Kitty would have shown better taste if she had remained “Lady Kathleen Trevelyan” to the lecturer, Instead of taking her up with enthusiasm, making a bosom friend of her, adopting her views (not that Lady Kitty could understand half of them, ©r ever thought of putting them into (practice) and generally “playing tho giddy goat all round.” Privately ho wondered that his brother-ia-law allowed it 1 The half-smile on the lady’s lips had into a whole one. Apparently Lord Leyland’s frank declaration bf war amused her. He noticed with Unreasonable irritation that she owned | most alluring dimple—all at once he law what his brother-in-law had meant ( when he spoke of Miss Forrest as a i“ devilish handsome girl,” and unwillingly he agreed with Colonel Trevelyan. JBut tho lady herself seemed equally unconscious of her dimple and the irritation of her vis-a-vis. “It seems I shall have an interesting Visit,” she said lightly, then picked up the magazine on her lap and began reading with as perfect a nonchalance Vs though she were alone on a desert island, instead of seated opposite to the most bandsoruo bachelor peer in England. i That_ornament— in a literal as well as % metaphorical sense—of tho Upper 'House, felt his annoyance grow, rrac■tically, s’no was snubbing him, and he jwas littlo used to snubs. Then, when you are prepared to meet the enemy on certain lines, it is provoking for him to adopt quite other tactics. He had expected Miss Forrest to improve tho occasion by a flow of argument—one of Jitr rsnowned lectures, in fact. And behold she was silent and opened not her mouth.

She. did not even appear to sp-o that jny lord was looking at her, having nothing to read himself, and finding her a Gore interesting study than tho flying ndscape beyond the windows. Mow, in repose, her face had a certayi hardness which detracted from its regular beauty. Leyland attributed it to the adverse influence of Women’s Rights, but it was, in truth, tho legacy #f a five years’ strugglo against tho crushing penury of tho “impoverished gentlewoman,” who is‘ashamed to beg, will not steal and has never been taught/to work. ; T7iose'.fiye .years of fighting had left a mark upon. Anstiss Forrest’s countenance whioh it would take much happiHftft—and much love—to erase. Ana at

tho moment slio was not. overburdened with either of tlieso things. For tho rest, lier skin was smooth as a child’s, tho contours delicate and rounded, but tlio well-cut lips wore set like iron, and tho sea-blue eyes under their straight, drooping lids—that rare thing in a woman’s face—had a challenging directness of glance, far, far removed from tho gentleness the normal man looks to find in mother, sister —or wife 1 Such a woman might, in other days, have made history, Leyland thought; might have been a Flora Macdonald, a Charlotte Corday, would have mounted the guillotine with superb inditierence, or tended tho wounded in Lucknow with steady fingers, bub slio struck a jarring note in the soft, commonplace civilisation of modern England. He glanced across th© carriage to where the fair -haired mother fondled her cooing baby, and tried to picture the child in Anstiss Forrest’s arms. He fancied sho would ho as awkward as a mail —and twice as restive —if she were asked to hold it for a moment.

The young man moved impatiently. It was ridiculous that ho should waste his thoughts on hor—particularly as sho so obviously had none to spare for him. He looked out of the window ouco more, surprised to see they had' come far on their journey and were crossing Arscott Heath. The acres of yellow furze glowed in the rich afternoon sunshine.

At sight of this wide plain and radiant sky, politics and problems faded into insignificance, and only tho unchanging platitudes of life retained their value. Leyland smiled to himself, forgetting alike his .harsh thoughts and his philistine vis-a-vis, and hummed under nfs breath tho air of tho old spring song of Devon. Golden furze In bloom, ohl golden furze in bloom, tVben furze ia out o’ flower, then love is out of tune. Anstiss had quick ears, she looked up. her face softening as she saw the golden glory through which the train was speeding. Her dimple peeped out. Was it possible that sho, too. bad sometimes sung tho furze in bloom.? As their eyes njet, sho said in a more friendly voice than lie liad yet heard lier use:

“ It’s like a place where the Golden Age still lingers! Now if only——’ ’ The sentence stayed unfinished—a sudden thrill, merged into a quivering jar, leaped along tho train; and with it. a crashing roar that drowned all speech, and at which Leyland’s heart stood still. Even as he stood up, blindly, gripped by tho Englishman's instinct to get between danger and tho woman, the wall of the compartment behind him was shattered and bulged inwards with a splintering sound. Then, without his being consciously aware of it, sensation ceased.

It was the shrill cry of a child which finally brought him back to recollection. There was a confused beating in his temples, and some thing heavy and hard pressed intolerably upon his limbs. He opened his eyes, ana the woman who was bending over him asked in a rather shaky voice: “ Then you’re alive, after all. Do say you are.” Leyland smiled involuntarily at the illogical question. “ I’m quite alive thanks—it was a smash up, wasn’t it? I suppose I’m pinned under the debris. Aren’t you hurt at all, Miss Forrest? That’s luck.”

“My ankle is twisted a bit.” she said cheerfully. “I can’t walk or stand, but I’m all right, really.” As she spoko sho lifted his head with gentle fingers and slipped a roll of some soft.material under it. “ Does it hurt you dreadfully? You’re jammed under the framework of tho next coach?”

Leyland set his teeth and tried to move. “I believe I’ve escaped with bruises,” he said in a moment, in a relieved voice. “But I’m afraid I’m helpless till someone digs us out!” "Probably we shall have to wait a bit,” said Anstiss. “The forward carriages are sure to nave suffered more than we have, and hero on the heath it must take time to get help. I wish there was something I could do.” “It doesn’t hurt much, roally, thanks,” Teplied tlfe young man bravely. “ I expect your ankle is far worse, if you were honest about it.” “ It’s not, and anyhow, I’m too jolly thankful wo’re alive to care. Think of the other poor people,” and Leyland could feel that she shuddered as a faint groan travelled towards them on the warm and perfumed air. In tho distance they could hear voices, men running to and fro, and now and then a pitiful scream, but no one came near their end of the wreckage. They seemed utterly deserted, strange castaways on a fairy “ field of tho cloth of gold.” Leyland lay with his eyes closed, too shaken to caro very much what was happening, too confused by pain to think at all. til] presently lie was roused once more by tho wailing of a child, so closo that involuntarily he turned his head to see where tho sound camo from, and at his side, most wonderful, sat Anstiss nursing the baby, which had shared their compartment, and whom the shock of the accident had apparently transferred to Miss Forrest’s unaccustomed arms. Lord Leyland stared in fascinated amazement, while this New Woman bent over her charge, cuddled it and crooned to it as the most Earlv-Yic-torian of women might have done, far too absorbed in the difficult task of soothing a frightened child to care how she looked or what ho of her. Her rippling hair had come clown and fell about her like an aureole, the hard young faee was strangely lit and softened as she rocked gently to and fro, hor eyes on the restless babv ; till at last it nestled down against its newfound slave and went to sleep.

“ Bravo 1” whispered Leyland incautiously, carried away by his enthusiasm over tho victory. Anstiss looked up in quick defiance, but melted again before the gentleness of tho young man’s glance. “Isn’t he a dear!” she said simply. “Isn’t ho a pretty baby?” “ Seems a decent little kid,” he admitted, and then could not resist adding, “Shouldn’t have thought you’d bother yourself with it.” She laughed till a second dimple came out on her other cheek. “I ndoro babies—all women do,” she said.

Leyland flushed, and reflected inwardly that ho was au idiot and a brute. “ I wonder where the mother is?” he said to cover his embarrassment. “ I’m afraid she must he pretty badly hurt,” said Anstiss doubtfully. “ It takes a lot to keep a woman from her baby, doesn’t it?” She relapsed into silence. Leyland reflected that whatever her fluency on the platform, she seemed to have a remarkable predilection for silence in private life. Just now he wished slie

would talk to him, tho agony he was enduring was almost more than man could stand—in silence—and the very sound of her soft vibrant voice had something stimulating in it. Yet he lacked tho courage to tell her so. Presently sho lifted the sleeping child from her kneo and yet it under the shadow of tho wreckage. ‘‘What are you going to do?” ho asked curiously, for her mouth was set hard again. “Get help!” announced Miss Forrest briefly. Sho slipped off her jacket and wrapped it round her bare ami swollen ankle. “If I can’t walk—l can crawl. You shall seo how soon I’ll be back.”

“No!” lie protested. “They are sure to come in time. You might injure yourself for life—and really I am perfectly comfortable hero.” Tho sea-blue eyes expressed frank disbelief. Leyland understood that sho had read through his valiant pretences, yot still he would not have her go. He turned a little on his elbow to catch her hand in futile protest, and—fainted dead away.

Easton Lanyon is not one of th© show places of Devonshire, for tho house is modern and as plain as it is comfortable. But tho garden dates back to tho time of the Tudors, and has an exquisite, haunting charm, beyond all other gardens in the “ garden county.” Anstiss Forrest sat alono in tho Jacobean summer house at the far end of the white roserv, and played with a year-old baby. He knew her now, and cooed to her as readily as he had cooed to his mother three weeks ago in tho west-bound train—responding to Anstiss’s kisses in happy unconsciousness of the reason why liis yellow curls were tied with a knot of black ribbon.

Presently ho grew tired of play, and cuddled down into tho girl’s arms and went to sleep there, while Anstiss regarded him with hungry eyes. To-day oho should hear—how soon they claimed him! Tho young Earl had gone to town about it yesterday, and might como down tho garden at any moment with his news. Unconsciously her arms tightened round the baby in her lap. Sho bent down to kiss tho soft, flushed little cheek, then raised her head with a start as Lord Leyland stood in Ihe doorway. “I guesed I should find you lie © — how’s the infant phenomenon tins afternoon ? Sure he’s not too heavy lor you, Miss Forrest? You’re not very strong vet, you know,” ho said, and it Anstiss bad not been so occupied with setting a watch upon her own eyes and lips, Bhe might have wondered at the change three weeks had wrough in Lord Leyland’s manner towards her. She ignered his questions, and looked up at lv.m anxiously. “Tell mo quickly,” she begged. “How scon must I give him up?” Jack Leyland came into the summer house and sat down bosido her. Ho somed to be choosing' his words, and he aid not look at her as he began. “ It’s—it’s a queer story altogether ” “Oh, do make haste!” cried Anstiss desperately. “ Don’t stop to dress it up, just blurt it out anyhow 1 How soon do they want him?” “ They don’t want him at all. Yd one wants him!” Tho colour deepened in Miss Forrest’s eheks, her lips parted a littlo, but sho said no word.

“It seems his mother was separated from her husband,” Leyland went on. “ When I saw him—l didn’t wonder. By way of being an ‘ officer and a gentleman,’ but the biggest bounder I’ve ever had the ill luck to meet. Says lie’ll be hanged before l.e Oies anything but what tlio law compels him to do for the child.”

“ Oh!” said Anstiss, and her lip set as they had, not done since the day of tho accident. “ It seems the mother hadn't a soil, Leyland went on. “But, of course, thore arc orphanages, ns the father kindly pointed out to me. But we’ll do better than that for him, I guess. AVo don’t send our guests to charity homes from Easton Lanyon.” Anstiss looked up quickly, with one of her bright challenging glances. “You need not trouble!” she said eagerly. “I love him! He shall lie mine 1 My baby, my little Alec!” hor eyes flashed defiance into Loyland s bewildered fuce. “Do you mean that you will adopt him?” ho asked.

“ Exactly,” said Anstiss. The young man tugged at his nioutache. “ But, Miss Forrest—forgive me if I seem impertinent—do you realise what it means to bring up and educate a boy?” “1 can work for him!” said Anstiss proudly; then, with a spark of malice, “ I lecture on other things besides Woman’s Suffrage, and find it moderately remunerative, you know!’ “ That’s splendidly bravo of you— l>a« you forget another thing—an even more important thing.” “ What is it?” demanded Anstiss rcbelliously. “ Scandal.”

“Lord Leyland!” But Lcylaml’s eyes met hers steadily. “Tho world is so confoundedly censorious,” lie said, reluctantly. “It will ask why on earth a pretty girl should burden herself with a strange child—and what will you reply? ’ Anstiss’s eyes blazed; she was furiously angry because she felt that what he said was true, but she answered readily enough. “ I shall say that I adopted him because wo were two lonely creatures together. Because his little arms were so warm round my neck, and when I kissed him I forgot that I was even tired or sorry or alone. 110 shall be my son to me, and 1 will bo-his mother to him — and I don’t care a—a thing—what tho world says!” “You know I really do see it from your point of view,” said Lord Leyland earnestly. “ But I can’t help seeing also that- you will have to pay a big price, far bigger than you think, for your adopted son. Now, wliat I propose is that you should let me go shares in the adoption. I’ll arrango lor a home for him, and for schools later and all that-—and lie shall look on you, as—ns a godmother, say—and stay with you often in the holidays—when you come clown hero and so forth. How will that do?”

“ You are very awfully kind,” said Anstiss jealously. “ But I’d rather have him all my own.”

She looked away, as though the discussion wero finished. Leyland looked troubled. He had never been so anxious about anything in all his life as that no breath should blow upon the fair famo of this wilful, romantic girl he—loved. Nor so desirous of anything as that she should not go her own solitary way, ignoring their three weeks’ old friendship. “ There is something else you forget,” ho said with knitted brows. “ You may bo ready to pay—but have you any riflthf to pledge yourself for the child

also? You may despise tlio whisperings of the outside world. It is like yi.n to do so. But suppose, when ho . old enough to understand, he 5 ‘-Oil’d suffer? iam sorry to be so blun;., but you are alone in tlio world, as yell admit, and Kitty, who would be the proper person to say all this, is such a romantic littlo goose, I daren’t trust her to do it.”

Anstiss had turned to him again, and her face was white. “ What a fool you must think me—and I am a fool,” sho said slowly. “ What a beastly place tho world is!” Sho knew she must yield to Leyland « merciless reasoning, but her rebellious heart cried out against it. “ Oh, and we were going to lie so happy together, baby and I,” she said, moved quite out of her cherished selfrestraint. She was no longer tho brilliant, college-trained lecturer, tlio reformer convinced that what has been custom for a thousand years can be changed in a decade by word of moulli —sho was just one woman alone, in arms against tho bitter social law, and forced to own herself defeated. The defiant eyes filled with tears she was still too proud to shed, tho stem mouth quivered hopelessly. Jack Leyland had an inspiration. He came close and put his arms about lier and about tho sleeping child that lay upon her kneo. “ Anstiss! Let me take care of you both I” , ' “ Oh, you’ve wakened him 1” cried Anstiss reproachfully. Tho baby stirred, opened his eyes, and gurgled with soft laughter, but Leyland did not take his arms away, and presently, above the golden head with its knot of black ribbon, tho lips of the man and woman met.