SHORT STORIES. IHE HEIRESS OF RIXTON HALL.

Otago Witness, Issue 2565, 13 May 1903, Page 74

SHORT STORIES.

IHE HEIRESS OF RIXTON HALL.

By C. D. Leslie,

Author of "Penfold's Play," "Shakespeare Up-to-date," etc., etc. "They won't hurt you— they're only pupM.'.dge Rixton raised her voice to o shout. She stood, dog-whip in hand, at the corner jbf the big grass field looking down upon the narrow, winding lane that ran from Rixton Village past the back of the Hall to Dulreton, and marked the southern boundary of her property. A man had suddenly appeared in the lane, and the lour big, tawny black, muzzled eleven-anoftths-old mastiff puppies she was exercising had bolted down the bank and rushed "at him open-mouthed. For a timid individual, the four huge dogs, with their big red tongues lolling forth, "were a sufficiently alarming sight, even though they stopped ft few yards off the stranger, after the manlier of puppies, and barked only; but the man evinced no fear, and only attempted to pat the nearest hound, a familiarity it avoided by a hasty retreat. A moment after he had spoken' Madge recognised that ithe man was a visitor in the neighbourhood who had been staying for a fortnight •past at the Rixton Arms. She had seen •him when out either walking or driving several times. She leaned down, calling off the dogs, and the man, looking up, raised his soft hat and said: "I think 1 have the honour of addressing JMiss Rixton." "That is my name." "I have a letter of introduction here, he continued, diving into his breast pocket, "from Mr Richard White addressed to you." "From Cousin Dick?" Madge stretched cut her hand. The man scaled the shelving bank and ragged hedge in two strides, and put the letter into her hands. Miss Rixton accepted it with o smil*?. "I expect you met bim in Africa, didn't you? You look like a soldier." "Yes," he replied, "I met him in South [Africa. I've been staying in the" village for two weeks past, bu* going down to town on business last Tuesday I came across Dick White. When I told" him where I .was staying he said Miss Rixton, of Rixton •Hall, was his cousin, and gave me the letter you are holding." Migs Rixton drew the letter out of its envelope. It ran thus : "Dear Cousin Madge,— This is to introduce Mr William Faraday ,- late corporal of Mordaunt's Horse, now in England for his health. Perhaps you may remember that Sn my campaigning stories, when I was Bast with you, his name frequently figured. •I owe bin? my life on two occasions. He's recuperating from a wound received at 'Brackfontein, though he doesn't look very ibad, and amusing himself, he says, chiefly i)y fishing in the mill stream. It would be better fun for him, with your permission, to fish the Ripple ; may I ask this favour for my chum? Love to Cousin 'Emma. — Your affectionate cousin, Dick." Madge held out her hand frankly. "You arc very welcome to Rixton, Mr Faraday. I only wish I had known earlier that you "were a chum of Dick's. The Half fishing is free to you henceforth, and I hope we shall •see something of you in the Hall itself. I remember Dick's stories about you, how you brought him in under fire " "Oh, he makes too much of that," interrupted the young man, rather impatiently. "I wanted him to strike out that nonsense about saving his life, out he wouldn't. We were comrade 3in the field, and did various services for each other." "Well, come back with me to the Hall now,, and be introduced to Errilna,". said Miss Rixton. "Dick's a grent favourite of liers, and she'll be delighted to see you. I was just going to take the dogs home." "I shall be very happy to," replied Faraday, and, turning, they walked sieVe by ' side over the grass, the dogs gambolling about them. "Do you belong to these parts, that you come to stay at our quiet little village?' began Madge, by way of opening the .onvcrsation. "No, this is my first visit to England ; I'm an Australian." "An Australian?" said Miss Rixton, with interest. "I've always been interested in .Australia ever since I can remember, because an uncle of mine, papa's elder brother, went there before I was born. That was 25 years ago, and for 20 years nothing has ever been heard of him. When grandpapa died three years ago Mr Somers, our lawyer, went ou* to look foi him, because he was the heir, but he failed to find him, or bis descendants, if there were any." "That was lucky for yoj," suggested the young man. "Well, yes, for everything war. left to Uncle Will, or his children." "But the old squire was so fonc 1 of you — so the village gossip goes." "So he was, but when he made his will I had money coining to me from my Blotter, but, oddly enough, directly after tiis death a, bank failed, and I lost it all. Mr Somers told- me plainly before he went to Australia that if he found an heir I should be penniless ; but there wa.« no heir, ,60 Rixton is mine." "And you're not afraid now of an AusjtralLn cousin turning up to dispossess you?" "Ob, no; Mr Somers says if there had been an Australian heir, he would have been here before now." . She halted abruptly and pointed ahead .with her whip. They stood it the top of (a gentle "declivity, and the old Hall lay jbefore them half a mile uwaj

•1 think this view is rather better than ' from the front," said Miss Rixton. Her companion made no reply, and, turning towards him, Bhe saw he stood wrapped in thought, with a look on his face that, in its intense sadness, half-frightened her. "Mr Faraday," she said. He started, and his face gradually cleared. "I beg your pardon — yes, the view is beautiful, it recalled -j memory to me. You are happy to be the owner of so fab." a possession." "Have you a home in Australia?" Madge asked softly, something in his voice and attitude touching hsr gentle heart. "No," he answered in a rough voice, "neither house nor land, nor kith nor kin." "I suppose you've travelled a good deal?" "A good deal," he echoed listlessly. "I long to travel. I've lived here all my life. I've never left England. Robert M she checked herself and blushed, and then added, with a happy laugh, "My travels begin this summer, but only to Italy." "You mentioned going to Italy. May I, though so new an acquaintance, congratulate you on an approaching event which will precede the trip." "Ah, you've heard of that?" "Yes, your engagement is still the topicof conversation in the village, and Mi* Howard has been pointed out to me; and I've heard of him from various quarters." "You can just see his house over the trees," said the girl, pointing to the right ; "he talks of letting it when we're married, and we shall live at the Hall. Do you know, ' she confided — there was something magnetic about the grave, honest-faced young Australian that loosened her tongue — "we've been engaged 14 years, so it's about time we were married, isn't it?" "With your grandfather's consent?" "Oh, dear, no, it was a dead secret. And he didn't like Robert ; he had curious likes and dislikes. When old Mr Howard sent Robert away after he left college for a trip round the world, I remember grandfather saying he hoped he'd stop away. Robert had been rather extravagant" — (and very dissipated, said the young man undei his breath, for he had heard certain tales about young Mr Howard), — "and so he was in disgrace. Indeed, he stayed away till his father's death, and then he came home to the Grange." "And reminded you of the 14 years' engagement existing between you?" "Exactly. I was afraid he had forgotten ; for I'm sure he must have met dozens of girls more attractive than I am in his travels." "And witn your fortune?" asked Faraday, with a sneer. At this ill-mannered query Miss Rixton's opinion of Dick's chum underwent a complete change. She was furious with him. "Oh, you are hateful," she cried, halting and stamping her foot ; and, with blazing eyes, she continued vehemently, "How dare you accuse Robert of being a fortune-hun-ter? He's as rich as I am, or nearly so, and he doesn't value money one bit, except as a means of doing good to others. But why am I condescending to answer you? Have the goodness to quit *ny premises," and with a cold bow she would have swept on and left him. "Miss Rixton, I know I have been guilty of an unrardonab'e piece of rudeness. And yet I mean you nothing but good. Let this be my excuse for speaking. In a London club, in the village alehouse, I have heard your engagement discussed, and the verdict in each case is the same. Mr Howard is unpopular amongst his own sex. whatever he may be among yours, and it is said he is a spendthrift who lias already dissipated half the fortune his father left. I have heard him called fortune-hunter, and I believe lie is one." "Why, what do you know of him?" "Only what I have heard," he confessed. Madge struck the hedge impatiently with her whip. "I believe men are rather more spiteful than women,' 1 she said ; "because Robert is cleverer and better-looking than most of them, and because he is too straightforward to pretend to be civil to people he despises, every one sanders him behind his back. And if all the tales they whisper about his extravagances are true, 1 know he loves me. Do you think a girl doesn't know when a man loves her and when he only pretends to? He'd marry me if I hadn't a shilling in the world. I know he would." "Would you care to prove that?" asked Faraday slowly. "What do yon mean?" "You say Mr Howard is no fortunehunter, that he would marry you if you were penniless. Make him think you've lost all your money." "But — how can IV" "You've been .elling me about your uncle who went- to Austrilia — that if he or his heir appeared you would V.se everything. Suppose I pretend to be youi cousin, the son of William Rixton.' "Oh. " cried Madge, with a long-drawn gasp of understanding ; she stood he-.sitat-ing. absorbing the idea. "But deceive Robert — oh. I couldn't." They were now close to the Hall, and at the edge oi the park, far away in front, the clatter of hoofs rang out, and on the road a man's head showed over the hedge as he cantered by. The Australia*- had wonderfully keen. s.ight, and recognised the rider. "Isn't that Mr Howard?' 1 lie asked. Madge shaded ln-r eyes uiicl looked. "Yes, ' she answered. "Then this is your opportunity: he's coming t- the Hull. See him ii' the library, and five minutes later I will call ;md ask U. see you on business. You will instruct the servant to show inn in. ' "Wry well. I will do it. Com" (o the Hall ; call youiMlf niv cousin. Let us play the comedy." As Miss Rixton < ainr- toiind Ihe Mahles j from the kennels she inel 1m r betrothed setting forth in hc'ikli ol Int. "Dear 'weetheart Madge," he rrii-d (he li.-irl :i new. endearing epithet fur her every d;iy). as he kissed her, "I've beui piiiiiu; fur a sight of you all' day."

Madge shrank from his kiss, feeling already guilty and ashamed of herself ; but with an effort she took his arm and tried to speak ■ naturally. "Than why didn't you come earlier?" "I was so busy, lady mine ; but where are you taking me? Aren't we going to sit in the arbour, as usual?"' "No, I'm tired ; I've be-en exercising the mastiffs. We'll go and sit in the library. You don't mind?" "Mind! As if I minded where I am when in your company." Mr Robert Howard was of rather medium height, and always perfectly dressed ; his features were regular, his voice gentle and pleasant, and he had a way with him women liked. Not altogether without truth did Madge tell herself that the origin of some of the innuendoes against her lover was the jealousy of certain fair damsels who would have liked to marry him themselves. Cousin Emma, an old maid of 50, and Madge's chaperon, for both her parents had died during her childhood, thought highly of Mr Howard. "He is always the perfect gentleman, my dear," ihe told her young charge. And when the girl thought how she was about to deceive her promised husband, ehe shivered with shame. Robert quickly noticed her silence and the apathy with which his complimentary speeches were received, and having not a few private sins on his conscience, guessed something near the truth. "What has happened, Madge?" he asked, as the girl sank down on the sofa in the library ; "has any one been telling you — Iks about me?' 1 Miss Rixton brightened. "You are a thought reader," she cried. He sat down and put his arm round her waist. "And what have I been doing?' he asked, with a laugh. "I've heard you called a fortune-hunter," she confessed, her head on his shoulder. Though secretly relieved to find himself accused of nothing worse, Robert thought it diplomatic to express hot anger. He rose and paced the room. "A fortune-hunter! Some spiteful old tabbies have been telling that tale, have they? I suppose, as I'm going to marry you, I can no more avoid the epithet than you can avoid being called the heiress of Rixton Hall. Marrying a wealthy woman has its inconveniences, but when I think how long " The entrance of the butler checked his declamations. "A gentleman, ma'am, to see you on business," he saidj handing his mistress a card inscribed William Faraday. Madge hesitated ; it was yet possible by declining the interview to make the caller understand she had changed her mind. "Some travelling tout, I expect," said Mr Robert Howard, reading the name over his betrothed's shoulder ; "does he look like a gentleman, Perkins?' "Well, sir, he may be," cautiously replied the butler ; "he's wearing a grey suit and a grey 'at, and looks like an ex-soldier or officer." "Shall I -see him for you, Madge? I'll dispose of him pretty quickly." "No, I will see him here ; admit him, Perkins.'' Robert stared. Was Madge going to develop a will of her own? Hitherto a word from him had been her law. He was still marvelling when the Australian entered. He held himself with soldierly gravity, and bowed to Miss Rixton. "You wished to see me," said the latter. "Yes. I am afraid the business that has brought me will be at least a very unpleasant surprise for you. I judged, however, a personal interview between us would be best. Briefly, Miss Rixton, lam your cousin, the son of your father's elder brother, Willian Rixton, who emigrated n-any years ago to Australia." "What!" shout'd Robert Howard, springing to his feet, "the missing heir ! Oh, nonsense ! How dare you come here with such a cock-and-bull story?" "Quite so, ' was the calm reply. " I would not dare to come here with, any cock-and-bull ! tory which investigation would discredit. That my claim is genuine I have ample proof." "Where are your proofs?" "With my lawyers in London." "Acd do you come here, an absolute stranger, and calmly expect us to take your word that you are the heir?" asked Robert contemptuously. "No," replied the claimant, after a perceptible pause, "I have copies of .some jf my proofs in my pocket." "Then show them," commanded Mr Howard. Again the clanr.diit hesitated, and looked askance at Madge. She sal p.'.le, troubled, speechless, totally unabh to lieli. hei accomplice. She saw clearly she ought to intervene; there were no proofs, he was only bluffing ; but something tied her tongue. "Lst's see these wonderful documents,' said Mr Howard, with a sneer. Very slowly the claimant unbuttoned his coat and drew forth a bulging, shabby pocket book, and from it he selected two papers. "Here is a cop.- of my parents' marriage certificate and ano'.hif of my birth certificate." Madge wondered vaguely how these documents were fabricated, but breathlessly and with all her eyes watched Robert, who frowningly perused tli ni. How si-rious he looked, but of course it w.r for her he was concerned. "I see here what purports to be a copy of the marriage of a, William Rixton with Sophia- All:.diii<>, and the birth of a. son if the marriage ; but how do you connect this Rixton with the old squire's eldest son, and what, proof have you t'.ui you a;e the son of the marriage':" Again the claimant paused, but .Madge sat silent. Howard. ;n \\-- excitement, had .seemingly forgotten her existir.ee. "I have a bundle of lette:*. .-aid the claimant reluctantly, "from my aunt. Susan Rixton. addressed to iiiv father: lie corresponded with him for five wars aftr-r liisdeparture fioin England; until her death,

in fact. Then I have many letters in his handwriting, and various documents attesting his identity with William Rixton, son of the squire of Rixton, and proofs that I am his son. My father died ten years ago, my mother in my infancy." The claimant spoke with pimple iirectness, and Robert Howard, after a stare at him and a final look at the papers, dropped them, and, striding to the window, stood looking out for full three minutes, absently drumming on the pans with his finger nails. The silence grew oppressive. Madge watched her lover, while the claimant furtively glanced at the girl, hu\, she did not notice him. Suddenly Robert wheeled round and faced his betrothed. "Madge," he said slowly, "this fellow's story, so far as I can see, appears to be true. But, of course, nothing can be proved till iSomors ha'i inspected the original documents." "Oh, Robert!" cried the girl. "It's an awful bolt from the blue," continued Mr Howard in an awed tone. "Why haven't \ou turned up earlier?" he add?d crossly to the claimant. "I was at the Cape when the lawyer was hunting me. When I returned I was about to sail for England with my proofs ; but war broke out, and I enlisted instead, and returned to South Africa." Mr Howard sat down on a chair and stretched out his legs Madge wondered why he didn't come to comfort her ; but he seemed to be thinking only of himself. "This is the very devil and all," he solemnly remarked. "If you art the man you say you are," he continued — "mind, I say if, for there's nothing proved — what are you going to do for Miss Rixton?" "Has she nothing of her own?'' "Not a penny, owing to the old squire's unjust will." "I don't see that it's necessary for me to do anything," Eaid the claimant ; "my cousin, I understand, is marrying you in kss ,han three months." "But, hang it, man," cried Robert irritably, "you must do something." "Why should 1! She's marrying a rich man." All this time Madge had been waiting for a consoling speech from her lover, but af the pseudo-cousin's last words she sprang up and crossed over to Mr Howard ; A seemed she. must console Irim, -or at least check his undignified appeals on her behalf. "If this gentleman is really Uncle William's son. he ha.3 a right to everything, Robert; and, after all, I shan't mind so much coming to you empty-handed." He took no notice of this- speech. "Rich man !" he grumbled at the Australian — "I'm not a rich man. I've lost money lately ; investments failed. I can't marry a wife without some money." Madge turned scarlet. Of course he was doing it for her sake ; but the humiliation of hearing him trying to shame the claimant into giving her a portion cut her to the heart. "Robert," she said — she tried to speak in a dignified manner, but there was a catch in her throat — "I forbid you tc go on. I'll not have you make yourself despicable in this man's eyes even to get me \ dowry. Tell him you are not marrying me for my money." But Mr Howard made no immediate response. "You've got enough left to support a wife," said the claimant. "I haven't,' almost shouted Mr Howard. "1 was going through my accounts this morning. I've barely a thousand a year left, and I can't marry on that. I'm awfully lorry foi you, Madge, but that's the plain truth." The girl caught hold of the edge of the table to steady herself. Some instinct told her Robert was not acting ; she had heard the truth from his lips, and suddenly her eyes were opened, and she saw her hero as he was. Love had blinded her ; now Mr Howard stood revealed in all the selfish egotism of his character. "Can't marry me on a thousand a year," she said slowly, speaking more to herself than to him. "It osts all that to keep up the Grange. I could never get away." For the first lime in hei life Madge was moved to sarcasm. "It would, intiied. be dreadful to have to live all the year round at the Grange — no racing, or yachting, or flat in town. I can't expect such sacrifices, I see. Take your ring and youi liberty, Mr Howard, and go." The scorn of her words penetrated even to the conscience of Mr Howard, and looking at her regretfully — for certainly she would have suited him'very well— it seemed very hard to lose her. "Look here," he cried, "aren't we all too previous? This fellow's claims may be bogus. I'll go and see Somers." But Madge was ringing the bell. "Leave this room \t on.cc, or [ .vill tell Perkins when lie answers the door to show you out." ■■You're most unreasonable, Madge," protested Mr Howard, but the silent scorn of Miss Rixton quelled him ; he walked delicately to the door, and went out ; his voice speaking to Perkin.s was heard In the hall, and died away. Siii'.e M» Howard had declared his inability to niairv on ' a thousand a. year, Madge had not looked on the Australian ; now°shi slowly raised h'.-r burning f ace and met his gaze. But there was no triumph on his countenance — it was dark wiih anger, and there was pity in his eyes. "I'm Miiry,' 1 he brx-.t out — "rrore sorry than 7 can express. But I don't ihink yon should utterly condemn him. He was taken by sin prise ' "Oil. "spare nit that.' 1 she cried ; "don't defend him — that would be the last straw. Vv'hv don't, you exult ivci me? You've r-rovc-d me wnmg and yourselt right." ••I'm a meddling, interfering as>, ' said the Australian, "and I think I'u. better <^o. I'vi done noiiiib. harm here.' But the girl stayed him with a vesture ; a ud'leii thought was puzzling her — why had ke iuteifered and questioned the honour ;

'of her betrothed? Her anger at his insinuations had previously blinded her to the strangeness of his action. She raised! her eyes to his and a question trembled on her lips ; bub it was never uttered. Instead, she- cried out, pointing, as it ap«< peared, at him and staring at him with an intensity of gaze that frightened liimv He thought her mind had given way, and advanced towards her. '. "Look there," she cried at last. He turned round ; she was indicating" a portrait under which he had been standing. "You are my cousin !" whispered an awed voice behind him. The claimant was staring a*t the portrait. He had not noticed it before ; it represented a young man of about his own age, dressed in the costume of thirty years before, and his face strangely familiar to him. "That's Uncle Will's picture," breathed the girl. "Oh, nonsense !" he cried ; "I'm nob any ' "You're the image of the portrait.'' In truth it was so. "It's a chance resemblance, then," ho sakT, recovering his composure, and, walking away, he picked up his hat. "The papers," cried Mins Rixton, suddenly remembering how he had puzzled her earlier by producing certain documents, a"nd thus convinced the sceptical Mr Howard, so suddenly of the genuineness of his claim. Engrossed in watching her betrothed's attitude, she had forgotten the circumstances. "Where did you get them?'' "I wrote them out aftei leaving you before I called at the house,' was the answer. "Show them to me !" But he did not comply ; he had put them back in his pocket directly Mr Howard had finished inspecting them. "It's not necessary ; they've served their purpose." "What did you write them with?" "A stylo pen ' '"Show it me?" "I won't !" he cried angrily. ''Why do you doubt my word? What do I gain by deceiving you? If the estate were really mine, why shouldn't I claim it? Why should I deny my identity?" This was so obvious that Madge wavered, but a certain embarrassment on his part and unwillingness to look her in the face renewed her suspicions. "Give me your word of honour as a gentleman that you're not Uncle William's son. and my cousin !" she said slowly. "You'll take my wo.*d?" "Yes," sho answered, looking straight into his face. Twice, red and embarrassed, he faced her, and twice the words on his lips were not articulated. "It's no use,"' he cried angrily, at last, "I can't lie to you when you look at me like that. Yes; I'm your cousin. But 1 don't want the beastly -estate, I insist on you keeping it. I'm leaving Eng« land immediately." "Why don't you want the estate?" '» "Life wouldn't suit me. I'm a Bohemian — a wanderer." "Then why do you cany documents proving you are a Rixton, and why did you interfere?" continued the girl, as he made no answer; "why did you suggest — what you did?" "Because I knew Howard was a bad lot, and didn't want you to marry him. I'd your interests at heart, but I'm sorry I did it." "That wasn't your real reason. You've been staying Here a fortnight; I've always b*en meeting you," she cried. "Oh, Will — cousin Will, I don't understand you. Tell me the truth!" "If you will have it," he said sullenly, standing facing her, "I came to Rixton with every intention of suggesting we should go halves with the money; but I fell in love with you at first sight. You were walking past'the inn, and I saw you from the window. I felt J couldn't rob you— but I had vague hopes of getting to know you and getting you to like me. Presumptuous ass that I was, 1 had visions of winning your love, and then when we were married telling you the truth. Of. ' course, I quickly learned you were engaged to be married, and my castle in the air ciumbled. But I couldn't tear myself away. I wanted to know you — to talk to you "before I went back; and learning by accident Dick White was your cousin, I went to London and got the letter of introduction I gave you this afternoon. '•.Some chance remarks of yours — innocent enough— made me accuse Howard of being a. fortune-hunter. I was eaten up with jealousy and so anxious to prove ha wasn't worthy of you that I never thought of the consequent of pretending to be the man I really was. I knew " man was worthless, but I can't forgi— o-tyself for what I've done."' "But I can," said Madge softly. "I'm glad I've found him out before marriage— before it was coo late. You've broken my idol. I'm crying over it, but I'm grateful to you ; and presently, I hope, Will, we'll be good friends. And we'll tell Mr Somers the story, and have an arrangement about the property Of course, you must have the Hall, but you'll give ma something." "Not a penny," he answered grimly, "of what is now yours will I touch, miles-'-: — oh, Madge, I'm only a rough colonial, but I worship the very ground you tread on. Don't you think, in time, you could come to care for me a little?" "But I like you," she confessed — "I liked you from tin mom ;at you introduced yourself. You seemed to have a strange influence over me. ' He drew closer to her, and looked into the brown eyes raised so frankly to his face. •'But could you ever care for me as £ girl cares for her lover?" "I— don't— know," she faltered, and yefc" something in her face told him that the future held out possibilities that would equal the vision lie had dreamed when he first saw her— Madge as his wife, the Hall as his home, and himself nothing else Qj wish for. And the beatifk vision it) the month* following came true in every 'particular