THE SOUL OF HONOUR.

Otago Daily Times, Issue 14281, 1 August 1908, Page 2

THE SOUL OF HONOUR.

by lady troubiudge.

Published by Special Arrangement,

Author of "TiTo Cheat," "The Millionaire, 1 ' ." Paul' S| Stepmother," " The Woman Xliou ("invest," etc., etc. [CoPYKIGHr,] SYNOPSIS OP PREVIOUS CHAPTER. Chapter I.—The story opens on Cup Day at Ascot. Among (he fashionable throng lire Lady Windormcre and hor daughter" Hyacinth. Tho younger woman is advised by her mother U accept Marcus Quinten, who, on the death of his cousin. Lord Vannister, will bo a rich man. Lady Windermere speaks disparagingly 0 £ Jack Taunton, Qninteffl's Australian friend, and Hyacinth demurs. Quiirten asks Jack for a loan, telling him that he means to propose' to Hyacinth that day. Taunton reproaches Quinten for posing as a wealthy mail and I representing him (Jack) as being poor. Taunton asks Hyacinth if sho could care for him, hut she tells him that her parents wish her to marry Quinten. , CHAPTER H.-HONOUB. Quinten passed out of the enclosure with a buoyant step. He knew Jack Taunton's word was as good as his bond, and little as the money was in the face of his difficulties, he was one of those people, ot whom there are many, who 'feel quite rich as long as they possess a little ready money, whatever their liabilities may be. He walked along humming a little tune, and then catching sight of a man ahead that he wanted to speak to, he hurried after him to the outer gate. Quick as his footsteps were, however, he lost sight of the man he was endeavouring to overtake,; and was preparing to retrace his My whet! a. woman's voice called him 'hy his name, and wheeling round sharply he perceived the girl still standing where Hyacinth had left her over two hours ago. If she had looked pale then, hor pallor had intensified to a ghastly whitemess. With her was a friend, another young woman, who appeared to be persuading her to leave her point of vantage, when Quinten's appearance startled them both. He turned, and evidently recognising her, stopped short. " Honour, .what on earth are you. doing here ?" "I have been here for hours." she said, drawing her breath sobbingly. " You passed me twice. Oh, how could you be so cruel as not to stop ?" ' "My dear girl, I didn't see you, and it I had I should have hardly" believed it could be you. It's incredibly foolish of , you to have come here; you never used , to bo so fond of a racecourse." .She threw up her head with an angry movement. "Races! What do 1 care about races? I came to this hateful place because I Jtncw_ you were going 'to be here." "Very absurd of you, then," he answered shortly. "Let"me tell you, my dear, that I don't intend to be 'followed about in this kind of way, and if wie are to remain friends yon imist please to drop it." ' "Remain friends?" she said, and the trembling indignation in her voice made it more poignant than if she. had screamed aloud. "How dare you lalk to me like that? You are treating me as if I;were not your wife." He did not answer, but looked down on the ground, (lieu hurriedly round to see that no ono was observing them. It had to be gone' through, this hateful, odious scene which, coining so hard on his new-found joy, filled him with a sickening loathing, and he knew the woman he had to deal with—knew the proud, sensitive nature too well to goad it past bearing. "Look here, Marcus," she said, speaking rapidly;, and motioning with her other hand her 'friend to a greater distance. "Do not imagine I do not see what you're trying to do. . I am not such a 'fool as that. You are trying to desert, me: - What other explanation is there of the way you have treated me? You married me; you seemed to love me, and ■I, fool that I was, adored you. You Temember what happened afterwards; no sooner had wo got back to my little lodgings than your servant brought you a telegram J Oh! I don't know whether it was written by yourself, for I seem to -doubt everything now; but, anyhow, you left me before we had been an hour married—left me with kisses and promises, but left me never, to come back. Do. yon remember how I wrote and wrote to you, letter after letter, and all I received in return was your money and false excuses? Why should I be left like this? What have I done? You haVe not given me a chance of doing my duty to you. Sometimes 1 think it must all have been some dreadful trick. Marcus, I cannot bear it! I may not be a smart lady, but- a lady I am, and you knew my position when you married me. I bore it all, thinking it was just waywardness on your part, and that you would come back and be sorry, and that I would forgive you. But now. the things I hear are too infamous." She paused, half-choked with her own anger. "You are always with this Lady Hyacinth Windermere. I believe you mean to_ try to make people believe you are going to many her, but can you for an instant imagine that I shall let you do such a tiling; even if ycu didn't marry me in church I am your wife, and 1 intend to claim my rights." Her voice rose jagged and frayed in tone, like a broken instrument, almost to a scream. She caught at the railings by which she was standing, but she still faced him with blazing eves. Quinten was agitated and desperate at the.thought of. the uncomfortable position lie was in. He began to loso his bead. "I. shouldn't talk so much about my ' rijght6' if I were you," ho said. " Yoit think yourself so clever, hut lias it never occurred to you that there ma-v he something behind it all? Oh, yes, I know I'm an awful 'blackguard, and all that sort of thing, but—well, my dear, it's done every day, and you may as well know the truth now as later." * f ■--' ■ ■ " ".."—i

"I am your wife," she repeated with dry lips. "1 am your wife." Tho reiterated l (sentence drove liim to frenzy. " l" shouldn't lio so Bine of that, if I were you,"-lie said lmitnlly. "The fact wars you were-so full of your scruples, ;uitl your objections, ami there was only one "•ay to got round you, so I took it. Wo went, through a form of marriage/ but unfortunately not. before a registrar, but before a friend of my own—not a very reputable friend I must admit. It was just a, plan, my dear, to keep yon quiet. Marriage would have been perfectly fatal to my prospects at that moment, and wxilljf and truly it's your own fault for worrying me as you did. And now look at- the want of consideration vou've shown, coming down here and jeopardising all my' prospects just when things are looking a bit brighter for me. It's too bad of you, upon my soul it is." "Your soul!" she crkd, wildly. "Oh, to think you dare to speak of your soul. Yes, MaTcus " as bo looked round for a. way of escape. "You may go, and ekulk away like, the coward you are, but a thing like you've done to me never dies. Ono day 'you will know this as I do. Now go!"' He needed no second bidding, but turned and literally Hod, and by doing so be avoided seeing what followed, for! once her passionate- speech had passed her lips, the.girl ho had called "Honour" swayed, and would have' fallen to the ground if ehe had not been caught hy a passing tramp, who held her in his arms until her friend, seeing what had happened, rushed up and relieved, him. This friend was at her wit's end, for Honour was really fainting on her hands. Her quest was at an end, but- how to get her buck to the station was the problem over, which Sarah Gibson shook her head, and the publicity was becoming alarming, several people stopping to look at- the group they 'ormctl. Suddenly a voice accosted her—a- voice which inspired eonSdence, although it was that of a. stranger. " I'm afraid you're in rather a predicament," he said. "Let me help you." " I ought to get her back to the station," said Miss Gibson doubtfully. "But how to do it is more than'l know." "You will not be able to do it, and she's not fit to travel, if you did. Here get her into this cab with me, ami we will drive to the Ascot Hotel." With some difficulty this was accomplished, and Taunton," in pursuit of his knight errantry, found himself hiring a private room and ensconcing therein his two companions. The girl Sarah was too upset not to speak frankly, and very soon she told liim their names. " You shall know all about us, as you've been so good," she said. "For really and truly it seems as if you've beon sent by Proyidenco to help lis, for this affair is getting beyond me, and I don't- know bow to manage it." She had placed her friend on a couch in a corner of the window, and she now drew Taunton a little aside. "Honour Read is my greatest friend," she eaid. "Wo worked together in tho same office in tho city. Then she married, and lie immediately deserted her. He's a villain, if ever there was one! Sho has waited hero in the heat this whole day to see him just for a moment, and at laat she succeeded. Now I remember," she added, "you were with him.when lie passed her by in the. morning. Perhaps you know him? Hie name is Marcus Quinten." " Your friend must take steps to recover her rights," said Taunton, unsteadily. In spite of his pity, a flood of joy wk filling his soul. Through no effort of his own it seemed that Quinten must he publicly proclaimed not only a hlack; guard, but a married man; yet lie strove to keep his voice cool arid "uninterested, and to a certain extent he succeeded, ■-■ Sallie did not answer for an instant, and in the pause Honour Head lifted up her head, turned, and filially sat up, fixing large solemn, beautiful eyes on Taunton! ti "I heard what you said," she uttered; "but it's no use. Sallie Jja> told you all ehe knows, so I may ax well tell you the rest. He says be never really married me; he took me to some place which I thought was a registrar's office, but the man before whom we went- through a form of marriage was only some disreputable friend' of Marcus's. " • Taunton approached her. "So he says now," he said; "but perhaps he won't be so ready to repeat this story in a.court of law. Anyhow, you •hold his reputation in your lituid; you can do for him if this comes to light." She passed her hand wearily across her forehead. "It's all very well to say that," she said, J' but in any ease I feel I cannot ruin him, even if it is in my power." "Why Hot?" asked Taunton, harshly; but even as he asked the question he knew the answer, for in the dark eyes of the girl before him he saw that sublime unselfishness which women have, shown from time immemorial to the blackguards they have cared for. "I have loved him,'! she said simply. " It may be your duty to do so," he said. "You know best whether it is or not." She covered her face with her hands, and then she rose up, and moved unsteadily to where Sarah Gibson was standing. , " You've been so kind to us," she said.' "I do not know how to thank you, but I feel I camiot say any more now; yet, after all, you know him, and you may bo a -great help to ine with your advice if you care to interest yourself. Sallie will tell you where we live, and perhaps you will come and see us. Now, goodbye." • . She held out her hand with the action of ;> queen dismissing a cowtier;' evidently this unveiling of her life to a stranger had been bitter to her, and she could bear no more of it at present. Twenty minutes later Taunton reentered tho enclosure, his heart bursting with-the knowledge that morally, at all events, ho alone was fitted to approach Hyacinth, and he trod oir air a.s he came up to her and her mother, with a selfconfidence which he had not dared to show before. To hit surprise Lady Windermere welcomed him with a beaming smile. Could it be that Quinten had kept his word, and had made tlie relative positions of the two men clear to her? Her first words shattered this idea. "We have a great piece of news to announce to you, Mr Taunton,' 1 she said; "and Hyacinth is sa shy that she has deputed me to tell it to you in her place." '" I'm sure .1 shall be very much interested,"' stammered Taunton; his eyes turned uneasily to where the girl was standing, and searched her face; but it was averted and be could not decipher its expression. "Your friend, Mr Quinten, and my little girl have decided ot make a match of it, and so we must ask you for yonr congratulations. He is everything we could wish, so I think they are a pair of very lucky young people." Taunton clenched his strong, brown hands; the solid earth seemed reeling under him; the sky was darkening over his head, but he kept sufficient hold upon himself to say nothing. His silence seemed to embarrass Lady Windermere. " Well,. Mr- Taunilon,"' she said with heavy playfulness, "have you any objection to make?'' CHAPTER 111. A flood of feeling kept Taunton speechless, but in reality his brain was working with lightning quickness, turning over again and again in his mind the crucial question—should he condone or acquiesce in this monstrous thing which Quinten had done? At first it «emcd to him that this was the moment to launch his bombshell, then commonsense—which had been the ruling guide of this mane- life—made its calm precepts heard. It would be an impossible, a melodramatic fiasco which, in the heat of the moment, he contemplated. For at) he knew, the girls might be two adventuresses, and the whole sloi-y a trumped-up one. So with a superhuman effort he controlled himself, cursim: tho delay which his kindness of heart had | prompted, and which had been so fatal. j Still, an engagement was not a marriage; 'his little Hyacinth had been bullied into

this. It only needed for liim to see the pallor ot her sweel face to reafoo that that curmudgeon of a mother was responsible, arid, having once so decided, Taunton gave evidence of being a strong man, for he pulled himself together, and nothing but one swift, amazed glanoe at Hyacinth betrayed his horror at tho, announcement.' " Lady Hyacinth knows,'-' he said, " that whatever makes her happy must please her friends." Lady Windermere nodded her head. Really the man' was'becoming quite presentable ;'' it was a courteous speech, as charmingly, .uttered as could, be, and. she. mentally decided to invite him lc the dinner party in honour of the engagement, from which she had before been as determined to exclude him; nay, the even wondered, in a burst of philanthropy, whether she had not- some poor, niece or cousin, well-born and impecunious, whoso hand she might bestow upon him, and she turned away quite happy in the thought that at all events the man bad no longer any excuse for nourishing any presump-, tuous hopes with regard to Hyacinth.-. To the girl the day dragged on with ahideous weariness, and it was with a' sense of inexpressible relief that she heard the summons given for departure, and ran to the cloak-room for''her wrap. Coming down, she found Taunton waiting at- the bottom of the strairstto escort her to the carriage that was to take them round to the station, and she started back with some surprise. . "You!" she cried. He smiled bitterly. " Yes; there's been a muddle somehow, and Ikrcus has gone on ahead. Oh! Hyacinth, bow could you!" Something in his words brought back to her the moment, only an hour ago, when she had lain on his heart, and in, his tone there was still the restrained; passion she had felt in his kisses. "I couldn't help it, Jack,'' she said, and her white lips quivered. "I reallv couldn't. I can't explain it to you now', but I wish—l wish I could see you somehow just to have a- talk." " "Better not," replied Taunton. "What Is there to be said?"' Then suddenly he changed his mind. "Yes, 1 will see you. for there is something I, too, must say! l/ook here, how can 1 manage it? Quinten will be with you all day long, I suppose. Curse him'" " Hush ! hush !"sbe cried. " I knowhow to do it. You know-my .cousin, Aliiveia Kenyon. She's an awful dear, and, she—she—wejl, she knows how I've liked you. She will understand that I .want to have one more talk. Come tlgrc to lunch on Wednesday, and she will let us be alone. Don't refuse, Jack;, I don't want you to think worse of me than I can help." / "It isn't a question of thinking badly of you," he said. "Dear little girl, I couldn't do that; but you've almost broken my heart." He turned suddenly away, and Hyacinth realised, with a 6tab 'at her heart, that itwas to hide his feelings, and she had to find her way; unescorted to the carriage, half-way to which Quinten met her, going with them to the station and seeing them

off. It was lucky, indeed, for Hyacinth that the occasion of their departure was so public, that there could he no question of endearments.

"He shall never, never, never kiss me!" thought the foolish girl, setting her teeth as she followed her mother into the carriage, conning over in her own mind the arguments she would use and the pleas for delay; but Lady Windermere gave her no chance, for, affecting a. fatigue even greater than she felt, she leaned back in her corner of the carriage, and lucidly Hyacinth did not realise that her mother was already framing the sentence in which the announcement of the engagement should be cent to the Morning Post. Quinten meanwhile retraced his steps to the liou.se where he was staying, for not even the presence of his beloved would have induced this luxurious young man to brave the heat and discomfort of the overcrowded railway carriages. He was flaying at a house called "The Grotto," an ugly, comfortable villa with vide stretches of shade and lawn, and huge shady trees. It was a party where each went his own way, composed mostly of wives without their husbands, and husbands aIEO visiting en garcon. Quinten found the place deserted, for most of the party had gone out motoring after the He went up to his room, changed into flannels, and, coming downstairs, threw himself into a long chair on the lawn, with a cigarette and a paper.

It was the most delicious hour of tha, afternoon, and when the butler, with a thoiifrlitfulness for which Quinten inwardly blessed him, had brought out the tea and wliiekvs and' sodas and placed them at his elbow, he had nothing left to wish for. The distant sound of a mowing machine came to him as he closed his eyes and enjoyed the subtle, delicious wafts of scent brought to him by the tiny wandering breezes as they passed over the flower beds.

"Sorry to disturb your well-earned're-pose," said a voice at his elbow; "but I'm not sorry to catch you alone."

Opening his eyes with disgust, at the interruption, he saw Taiinton standing between him and the 6un. He could not see the expression on the latter's face, for the shadow lay across it, but he noticed that he looked as if he had come to 6tay, for he, too, was in flannels and was smoking. Taunton drew up a chair and sat down. "I had quite an adventure this afternoon," he began. "Perhaps it would interest you to hear it. "I'm sure it woiddn't," answered Qninlen, lazily. "Adventures always remind me of boys' books, long yarns about the North Pole, written by people who've never been outside of their own backyard."

" This had nothing to do with the North Pole," said Taunton. "I can tell you it was more like the Equator out there in that blazing heat, yet it was rather a 6ad story."

" Oh, my dear chap, how awfully boring," said Quinten, yawning. "It was an appeal, from some clergyman for boots for the village children, or happy evenings for broken-down bookies, I suppose." "It was neither one nor the other," said Taunton slowly. The continual trifling of this wretched young hound began to irritate him.

"It was a young woman," he went on, "who came down here to meet some blackguard whom sire had'been fool enough to marry, but who apparently regarded the whole affair very lightly, for he's dropped her like a hot potato." "Not a bad judge, either," 6aid Quinten. " I bet. lots of married men would be glad to do the same thing if they had the chance."

"She came down here to follow him," said Taunton, "because 6he heard that this scoundrel was making up to a society girl, and was going to marry her. This, of course, she couldn't stand) so she wrote to him,and,he didn't answer the .letter. Finally she traced him here, and- at last she met him, when he told her-that he had never married her-legally, at all, making the announcement as c'ooly as if it were not a matter of life and death to her. After he loft her she fainted, and I helped her and the friend who was looking after her."

" Don Quixote !" laughed Quinten, handing him a cigarette, but he had turned a little paler and his mirth was forced..

"Dan Juan," replied Taunton, looking at him steadilv.

" Your name is obvious," said Quinten, "but why mine?"

He spoke airily, but his hand trembled as he lit a match.

"Can't you guess';" asked Taunton. The face at which.he was looking.crim. soned suddenly.

" You've something up your sleeve," said Quinten. "You had better tell me what it is,"

"It's just this," was the cool reply. "I have emu the gill, Honour Read, to whom you are cither married or whom you hive betrayed by a trap, which is nothing more nor less than the height of infamy. She has told me her story, and now I think, under the circumstances, you had better tell mo yours," Quinten tlirew away his cigarette. He sat up and looked his interlocutor straight in the face with that hard, bland look which was his characteristic expression. "May one inquiue what business it is of yours?" ho asked.

"If you ask that questioji,'' answered Taunton, the calmness of his manner broken up by a. rising gust of anger, " you must be even a grater, fool than I could imagine; but, no, you aue not a fool. You know well enough why I'm asking you this, anu you can hardly suppose that I'm going to allow this miserable farce of your engagement to Hyacinth to go on," H« spoke with a rising tide of fury which almost choked him, mil he was met with an airy laugh.

"My dear fellow, you have no locus standi in the matter at all," observed Quinten, lightly; "and I take leave to prophesy that you never will have. I'm no more married to Honour Head than you are, and whether I duped her or not is no earthly concern of yours." For a moment Taunton' felt nonplussed. The sangfroid of the man before him was so admirable, and his scoffing words seemed almost to reduce the tragedy to an ordinary, sordid intrigue. It was only the memory of the dark, pitiful eyes of the girl ho had seen off by the. train not half an hour ago \yhich kept before his inner consciousness 'the fact that he was dealing with a rascal. " I don't think you'll find it so easy to slip out of as you seem to imagine," lie said. " Well, it's her word against mine," was the reply. " The word ! of a couple of adventuresses against a man who, after all, bae a few pals and a certain amount of reputation. Taunton got up from his chair. "Very good," he said. "At all events, we understand each other. Of couree the girl's story has got to be proved, as you say, and she'll want money to help her to prove it." " Quite bo." "Well, that money she phnJl have," thundered Taunton. * "I'd give her half my fortune, if necessary; but it will not be necessary, for I cannot think so badly of Lady Windermere as to imagine that when I go to her with this story she will allow her daughter even to be so much, as in the same room with you." "Then you intend to go to her?" inquired Quinten with white lips. The two men wene at grips now mentally, and Quinten, lightly as he carried it off, felt that the affair might well ruin him-; but according to his code, it was no time to show the white feather. Ho 'had risen also, and the two men stood facing each other. "Very well, go to her," he said. "But I warn you that I shall go first, and I shall appeal to her not to see you." Taunton received this remark with a grim smile, for he know that in t.wo days' time he would have his promised interview with Hyacinth, and it would go hard with him if ho did not warn hor, although his whole soul revolted at the idea of doing so; as a matter of fact, there were insuperable obstacles to making tliis young, innocent girl understand the cruel wrong which another woman had suffered at Ouiuten's bands. "There is no more to be said." The words were short and blunt, and ho was turning away as he spoke, when Quinten stopped him, for a look of fear had crept into his eyes. Too late he recollected that the money promised had £2t yet been given to him,.

" r suppose you won't go back on your word about the money you promised motile loan of £500?"

His words were met with a short buret of sarcastic laughter; the only reply Taunton deigned to make, an he walked across the lengthening shadows ajid passed the drowsy-looking shuttered windows of the villa on his way back to the hotel. .

Quinten sank back into wie chair with a groan oi despair at his own idiocv. Why had ho been such "an unutterable fool as to kill the goose with the gulden cg"s and to quarrel finally with tfie man who held .the purse strings? It was. inconceivable. How. easily he might have taken another line, and have made up a story with a touch of pathos in it. No one knew better than he did the heart of gold that lay at the bottom of Jack Taunton's rough manner.' Anyhow he could have pleaded his own cause, and have represented himsolf as suffering an agony of remorse. Now here he was face lo face with the probability of being exposed to the Winderinea-eo and of losing the girl who had touched his wanderius,' fancy; worse still, there would be cndlees expenses connected with his engagement, even if Taunton didn't succeed in breaking it off, and then there would be the ghastly question of the settlements. "I must wait and seo what the fellow's game is," he reflected, " and then I must go up and see old Vannister. Perhaps if he knows I am going to make a decent marriage he may fork out an adequate allowance. Anyhow, it's my Inst chance. CHAPTER IV. To Jack Taunton's intense diappointment, there was no sign of the Windermere purty at Ascot on the Friday following the Cup Day. Vainly he had searched the enclosure with his eyes for the sweet girlish figure which he did not deny to himself meant the whole world to liim. In fact, hi 3 love was growing with, smelt leaps and bounds that he was literally absorbed in 'the thought of her.' Surely no man, he said to himself, could have such refined torture ag his to endure in the thought that Quinten, ■ who . had also left Ascot—Quinten, that unutterable «ul, with his delightful, charming manners and his insinuating address—was with her in the proud position of an accepted lover. He tried to console himfielf by remembering tlie timid words' of affection she had breathed out to him, but at was no use. Girls bad said as much and more before, and they had married the suitors selected for Ikm by their fathers and mothers; and he, man of tho world afi he was in the widest awl best eonso of the word, was able toread the character of -hia' little kdy love with a fatal accuracy. Whether rdie would ever 'become tlie'-'stuff of which heroines are mad© he did.not know, but he saw that at pKsciit 'her cbaraofer was all in embryo. It was a sweet medley of the indefinite promises of Spring time; in fact, he was in love with a child. the long hot hours of that Friday be laid his plans, and consoled himsajf with the thought:of thore byegone fees which were all he had'to buoy himself up with; they at least had been, real; whatever happened notbiw' could .take away from him their memory? But lie was. thankful when the dreary farce of pleasure-making .was at an end, and as the train' bore him Londonwards ■his spirits rose insensibly. ' ■ ' At his rooms he'found .a'letter from Maroia Kenyan, a bright friendly little note in itho laTgo scrawling hand affected by the smart -woman of the day, asking him to lunch on the Wednesday following. So Hyacinth had not forgdtten; ehe had been as good as her word, and in a moment the whole world began to look brighter. Ho lunched at his club, and then, with a beating heart he took his way to the solemn town house of the WrhdeTmeres an Grrosvenor square, As he walked along an absurd -couplet he had once heard jingled in -his. mind: ' Oh', how d.oliglitful to brco,the ; .\he air .' That is breathed by the 'persons in. . Grosve;ior.square, _ He smiled jto liimself,. at the foofeh little rlinnej-thiifciexpreeeed his feelings 'so Corroctly, for this dinic;y edifice of brick and stone which sheltered her had suddenly become to him the most interestm" place in the whole world. Yot it was a deucedly unpleasant errand on which he had come, and one which he did not deny to hiLinsclf ,bore on the facs of it an odious aspect.. It wae something of.a fool's errand too, for he could not wait, sonKthing seemed to urge him on—some hidden demon of unrest tortured him until, •he could part those tv/o.finally. He rang the bell with air unsteady hand, and it Kerned ages before it was answered, although in reality the folding doors were opened a-lmfcet inetmitly, and ■ho found himeelf confronted with a pompous-looking butler. • "Is Lady Windermere at heme?" The man hesitated, looking at him nucertamly, and Taunton filled up the pause by mming himself. • ' Instantly a look of comprehension came over tilieecrvant's face. He had evidently 1 Tceeived his orders. "Not at home, sir." Taunton stood still flabbergasted with