Margaret Fane; or Snares Unseen.

Timaru Herald, Volume XIIIC, Issue 14211, 28 May 1910, Page 1 (Supplement)

Margaret Fane; or Snares Unseen.

• <> » (By Mary Cress.)

Author of "Across the Fiieo." 'dlis u.i n i-a.'ti.'. . "i:er -buur lie- ' '' 1 (All Rights He-served.) CHAi'TEii VI. — (Continued.) '"V. Ly. I it-, whan Eve was turned \or a, sue did not go back to ;ai.,',,gh the bars tit Wnat til.- lu.U 0.-nig wis-'. Tne i o.,ti:ra.-t h-Lv a s rcu;:^ 1 aie-l \\i:loW l'aric Ji.'t be siuvt to Mrs Selbv. Ih-m. if?, s-onie one might ber liltsoutul i:ov.' liairuvvly i.iv tacantd ii..-:rc»s t,t it.'' "she uid inueed. reiase ilio invitation, but- net ii'wiu tne unw ».i tiiy motives you attribute-. Mr fteiby aovi r gufs u> i.nyrLi.iiji i.i the ki.sd, and without him t-he \»..uLi net.'' "Ihat is wine »i.c said, oi coarse. W a.s xh.s- v is:: > .ar i*aedre ca._a' P.l'.C. ui-ar by ?" "Certainly n..t. Si:,,. is st'di su lunch illtere-sU-d m i:;c that she asked me to return and t»-il her aii a twin ttu» fete. A\e may a: least be friends. George." Hut ikraa-k an>we:vd lin'.iiing. fie laughed sar.ii>«i.-:.'.iy. and dropped down oil tilt; ne.-ss to tiuish his ripe i<t while the melancholy Orlando ■sraudered about the woods atone. The fete was a great success, although Tiie Kairh irli— were almost- invisible. and retired at an eariy Lour to put on sack cloth and ashes according to George ilerriek. who danced .Ti.it wisely but too -.veil, and ihr.w himself into the thing heart, and sen! —sole, so ho phrased it. Possibly his exertions inado the success. fur young "Willowbv was very quiet, .-u unlike the laughing: cheerful voting man his tenants had proveii-ly known. India had taken all Mr Willowby's spirits out of Lim was the general veidic;. Proh-.ib--3y he would have followed his cousin's cxampl--, and gone away early, but for Ilerriek. The country papT on the following day had two r-iintuns ••ie-criptive -of t!:e rejoicings. vr!i: -'u were pronounced highly snccessiul. Mrs read tins wh.ilst .MiWiliowby and ITarri"k slumbered in peace after the "lat^ sitting." Tiie foriv-r made his ajvpearance at luncli. the iattor remained dreaming the happy hours away. Edgar read the newspaper with a smile. "".Some one was pleased at any rate. ,? he said. "Xow that it i% all over, Edgar, do Tf.u feel any the better for it?'' asked Mrs Fa hiepth. "Do you not feel that you have wasted time, of which yon vis: one day have tr> give an account? And the money '' "Mi>ney! nn.ney! mon'\v!" crir-<l TVilluW-!>y. with saipaTia-nce. '"I am sick of hearing about it! It seoms to he the o;;;- idea and th.e one word here! Good heavens, there are other thinss in life besides pounds, shillings and pence." '"There is no for you to lose your tamper. Edcar. particularly before the children." said Agatha, in a low warning vi.iae. "Von ought to set them a hotter example.'' "It may ha the climate." said Edgar. "But it is certainly more difficult to do risht hero than I have found it elsewhere." "I do not suppc.se Oeoree TTerriok is a very safe monitor."' replied ilrs I'airlegh. severely, and then. Mr AVillowhy left the roon. Hot though the day was. -and lons the walk, he went to the shore, and. a boat. Miwd about, the bay until tired, urti! tl;r- sun over the western sea in a blaze of gold and crimson, and every pebble on the shore liacl r. lengthened shadow. He wail;-d homeward ill ia'* suns-t ' g' "iriag a '"a 1 h.im a: ar the mnr.atra-r's hou=e. Should he go in? laid th.ey really care to know phent the wret-ah.ed affair last nicrht. in which ho indeed had found small plea,iur« How quiet ond D«»acefnl trns the liHl» dwelling after the glare of last night's lamps: after the noisy laughter, and the uoiser plaudits, that made his head ache! Ana then he saw Margaret's face at the window, smiling at him over the roses and sweet-scented blossoms of her garden. "You exn-c*'d to find Mr Selby at home now." she said, when he entered. and Susan clos -d the outer door: "he is generally here at this time, hut pome-thing must- have detained him. Perhaps yon can wait £ little." She preceded hi-a into tha room with the conservatory beyond: like herself, it was all softness and repose. The cool air of twilight stole in through parfumed flowers, and the silence was iiiiecl in by the sob <u the -sea. "I am so glad the fete was successful." she said, sna!in_: ""1 read all iibout it this mornhig. lint 1 think you have overdone it, Edgar. You look so tired, so pal?." "I took tired oacause I feel tired, Margarc-t .of myselt and of everything else." ""Vott forgjsi what a reproach are fuch words to me, Edgar. 1 c is ir.y iault. and it makes me miserable to 'think so." '•Then forget it; and. indeed, thereis very little save lorgetfuiness lest." "But you are very young," said Margaret ; "sooner er later sume <;na ■ivill make you happy, and teach you a sweeter forget; nlness." "1 sliall be true to < no memorv v.::4il my dying day. ilargaret. There is a void in inv life which can never be tiled." "Come, Edgar. I will not let you speak to despondop.il/. Did I net promise to do my lvst to r-heer and held your 1 want, vuu to toll nv v.-haf vou did last night, who was there, and fc>V|rythiug else." bo Edgar gave an account of the proceeding* tersely encugii, though he Jelfc gratified by her pleased and in*<beiested attention. your people, Edgar." she said, he had iiuished : "you wiil find niaTir d'.'.ties: you will make yourself loved find honoured. I know." He did not answer, but sat silent, gazing out of tile rose-rich garden, n-.t thinking of her as the w;te or :i f-elbv. but as the gior'.hed idea! a young man's love, the on- 1 woman v.dio understood and sympathised with him. No otto at Willowby Park read poetry fco liiru. "Here 'is Stephen." said iMargavet puietly, and Edgar started sli^litlv. He had completely forgotten the existence of Stephen. "How do you do. Mr Wiaowhy?" essked Selby, as he entered and hi 'held the young gentleman. "I am glad to see you. sir. I take it as very kind of you to call. How is your friend, Mr Her rick r" "He is very well." replied Edgar, ■"thank toTi. I have boon telling Marjr -—Mrs. Selby—ah-.;ut our fn-tivirirs. and rf-jirotv.nu thai noithf-r vou r.nr sh-" 1 u'or? pre-, 'in."' "That's very of yun. AVolow'.v. I h.aie it isn't the i->st hall you'll give. I'm sure. V>"e shali he rejoicing over your wedding soon, mar"Tliank yo-n." ."aid Mr "Wifp.-.v'hv !T=ing. and tb' n he bade husband and Vri?e trr.od evening. *" /'HiiVf yell !a a-d th"* M>- W'i'lowk ?ctends t.i 1..- >"!>-ri«-d. tben Stejiien Y* linked Mrs S. Ihv. '•X"». T Jis'Tfui't he-Trl t. iry ci 'iir. It wa.s s>mp A v hg'. ii wish. A ir~» •- married. h- vi"- or •id." "And vet." efrs S .">v with a Pnint pinilc. tolls lis thnt a woTf man married a i:inn that's . - j »* S9flrT6u.

'•Perhaps be didn't speak as T do, from experience.' mi id :-.. 'pin n. "I li'i.iiiii'r, :iy me way. •„ !iy Mr \\ i'iowby's ineud itoi-sii t com.' w.th ht.'.i?'" , "1 thing «.!;;■ i= quite suliiciem.' re- i plied Margaret laughing: "you have • made me disgust-, d uuti young o!an<.iies. Stephen." "i'here was one thing I didn't quite like?" said Selby: "he very nearly called you .Margaret.' 1 "His mothers name was Margaret, he says that I remind him of her. So ! 1 think we may pardon him the slip." "!;;;l he wouldn't call his mother by her Christian na;pe,' ! objected Step- ! hen. ; "Certainlv not. But there is such a tiling as'association of ideas.' Shall we have tea. dear? And then you must phty for me. I never cared for the vioiiu. do you know, Stephen, tinA benighted wanderer passing by that pretty house and hearing the strains of music might very possibly envv the inrat'S. and draw upon the wide canvas • '■' f-n-y pi'-iuros of "social case" and ".Mr. denies Ratbv invited me to dinner with him on Thursday, Margaret." said Stephen, later on. "lie's junior partner, you know, and I took it as very kind. Do you think you world mind being one evening by your"Xot at ail. i"-y dear Stephen. You ; could m-t nossihh- refuse such an invitation. Mr. Hatbv sent tlmre beautiful vases when wo were married, didn't he. J that gentleman of whom you told me in London. Mr. Oliver Glvnne." "Not from him. but of him. I think he's in Jersey with Miss Glvnne. look-j ing for a companion for her. She has not been well, and that's why he is not ! in T;"ido:i. I suppose."' V. hen Thursday came. Mr. Selby departed to his banquet "in silk attire." s-> t-i sneak. An hour ago his wife had behold a young man in a boating suit j walk past with many a glance at the j h"iise. Perhaps this had suggested a I pleasant manner of passing the twilight \ hours, for scon after her husband had j driven awav site got out her sketch-book ! j and walked slowly to the shore through i th.e quiet country lanes. The sun was just dipoing out of sight, and th-e crags were crimson. A hundred yards away was the wh'te little I dwelling of the old boatman. He stood shading his eyes and watching the gleam of oars on the water. The tide was out. and the strip of shore tinder fh,. crags was drv now. At other times th.e waves rimjled nr> to the '-roen. m'" = t line on the rocks. The scene was fair enough, and vet. though she had opened her sketch-book, and was looking at an outlined sea-seap". she was not thinking of surrounding beauties, but of certain words oime uttered by herself—"A rich widow has a better chance fimn a penniless governess." All was so still, so calm, so ouiet. that she could hear th.e grating of the keel as the boat was pulled ashore. The wet i oars flashed a moment, then were bvd down. Old Peters touched his can. and th.e young man who had been rowing came strolling slowly onwards, his eyes on the ground: he was so lost in thought, of whatever nature it might be. that he did not observe Margaret, and _assrredly would have passed her but for lie- exclamation of surprise. "Oh. Edgar, where did you spring fro:"? You nuito -startled me." "Margaret! Is Mr Selby with vou?" "\"o; be went out to dine with Mr. Pr.tbv. and I was so lonelv. and the evening was so beautiful, that I cj"'» out to share my solitude with the sea." "And I came out because T was tired o" flie b"n?e and tbo peonle in it." replied AYillowhy, looking moodily oat to "There's nothing in the world can make mc jov. Hfeis as tedious as n tw-e-toVl tale Yextng th.e dull ear of a drowsy man." T am a selfish wretch. Margaret, to talk hike this to you. or indeed to any one. - -w.'J thee was a time in rny life -.r\um I j i was not always groaning and lamenting." ' __ "I have been thinking about you all day." said Margaret, pensively, "and T want to advise you, Edgar. Y'ou should marry." "T marry! 2no. I can't- do that. I j can't ask any woman to marry me. for j I could not give h<r the love and devo- | tion a wife should have. T can't do j j anv woman so great, a wronr." "Rut many v.-oi-'d not think it a j wrong, try dear Kdg;"-. Love or no i love, tnev would gladlv accent the j mas+er of YfiHowbv Park." i "ileayou save me from a marriage of that kind!;' I "Amen." said r-Tc-garet. sofHv. "You I are nn» who should be chosen for love's j J sake only." j _ "I for I looV at the w-t!."! with a j iaunili-ed ey\ Mar'-aret. En HI mt- re-' ! t'vn front India I never hoheved in si.a worship of wppPh. 'God made ; gold, but we make gold a god.' " 'j Margaret shook her head reoroachi fu'lv. " I "You do not thin!- so." 1, 0 s ~'d. "hot. yen m--T s--e .-'her-;' Yen -hc+ | your "..-« *-, t'oon. Tt ; s mer" than Tl can d .. Tl-, vn:, rc i !e-en- of -.r.," r ,..., A i I oroc»d in f'O Por— n o.,^ r „. P ,. f 1 +i ln i being r-^sult^ 1 that ; j ir we'-ld never r-'-.-a.o ti-e r c <>a'-<- i '; info i+ that which the nation valued j j t',c"t'"."r = t l"'-"' 1 hj- 't'.r. P>,„;,„..<, j .. i ~.,-+ i.;.,.,.,K ;,,. P .„l tllP oll;(Snl ,-losed," j finis'ed Mar-.ret. j I { "So it is said. If such a yjilli' opened • ' aniung i., to-uay, we n.i-ut. east ,n ait j C our heroes, our poets, our u, ' j and It would still gape, uncii ssjme one ! - ; had the wit to throw m a hanuiul of | ; i sovereigns." > 1 "Too" bitter, Edgar, and so not like ! j you. Come, we wdl change the subject. I i I l.siok at my sketches. JJo you tii.nk ; j that if I wore thrown on the tender ' 1 i merci-es of the world I should succeed as : :- iin artist? A governess s life. I coidcl ( pnot stand again." | "But you are not likely to be thrown ' , I on the tender liiercies of the world, I ; I Margaret." . j "What wise Ih-cU'.-hman says that tha 1 unlikely always happens " | A ! "That c<m!d not happen if 1 were i \ : living," said AYillowhy quietly. , i The sun had gone now, and the moon j was rising, silvery Dale. A line of light ) on the wii*"!' trembled with the quiver- ! r ' ! in-j; sen. The sky had tints of primrose! 1 i and faintest green on the horizon; i j above it was deep clear blue. The J tile came creeping in with foam-flowers j gl!-:en!:ig white upon every wave, and 1 Margaret gathered her long robe in one hand, and laid the other on her comt panion's arm. "We must go, Edgar. Life is not all moonlight!" And so they left the shore, walking . silently together until the road winding , | awav inland was reached. Here Mar--1 gare't stopiKHl. ? "Your way, direct, is that. Edgar; 1 mine is this, and 1 wish to go alone." r "Is it safe ■'•' he asked. "Safe! Of course it is safe. I am '' not afraid."' - "V.'ill you not- allow me to sese you • to your own door even?" i" '•"•\ii I prefer to go alone, Edgar. Coed-night." With a clasp of hand they parted, Mrs ■' ! S.dby pursuing her way alone, as she '-j had 'wished. ■■lt is very mtn-h later than I thought." she' iiinzetl. consulting her r watch bv moonlight • "but = '-°"hen will d not be home yet. There will ha wdne am! argument* at the dinner, no doubt, '- and when men get on polities they never i- know v.-he to stop. I shall tell Susan that I lost mv wa"v. and th't she is not -. *-•'■' alarm Mr. Selby by telling him of -he ran" r-entlv. and then the door „ j Yi .,. ~..„.,ed almost immediately. f. I ■ "Ilio" v..-, th : 'lk that 1 was lest. 's I Susan?" she began, laughingly, and

then stopped abruptly, fur Stephen Selby himself admitted her. '"Stephen! you borer"' she exclaimed, as soon as she recovered from her -surprise.

'Acs, Margaret, I came away early. 1 didn't like to think of you " sitting here ai.me, and n»e there amount a lot of people. Ain't you out late!'"

"A little, perhaps. but it is your fault," sho answered, taking off her hat. and .smoothing; her rich hair. '"You have spoiled me for solitude, Stephen, in The- evening at least. The house was so dull without you that L went out. and did a little "sketching, and then— I'm afraid you will scold me "Not me, .Margaret. Scold you' indeed!"

"I wont to meet vou. That is. T walked along the road" a little wav'in tile hope of meeting you. Hiit,' of course, I was too hue. H is certainlv later than I thought. Are you dreadiudy angry!-"

'I am not angry a bit. All Tin afraid of is that some one might stop yen and try to rob vou." CH A I >TE It YIT. "TJi kpe is nothing i;ut KOGCKKY TO UK FOUND." Mr. Fairlegh, being a model lather as well as a model husband, occasionally taught the young idea hove to shoot bv reading to his children from certain volumes when in amusement »m very mildly bleat with instructions. On this sunny afternoon, when all Nature, with waving bouglis. and chirping blackbirds, and iluttering butterflies, seemed saying to bis wistful children. "Come outside, come, to ripen like fruit in the sunshine, to breathe Cod's gracious air. and rejoice in the sat still and stark in the study listening sat .stiff and star in the study listening to papa's reading of "Sandford and Mertnn." terror of a childhood that patiently bears the hideous wooden war-raiued-not-to-break dolls imposed upon its innocen e. That "Earth "first laughed when the children came," formed no article in Mr. Fairlegh's creed. Tie was reading, with ponderous emphasis suited to the subject, one of the dreadful discourses inflicted upon Tommy and Harry by that "immortal humbug. Harlow"—as Mr. Frank Bernard felicitously styled him. in the parody for which child-lovers should be for ever grate-ful—-Fairlegh. 1 say. was aduiiniiterin.tr, this moral "grey nowder," when the door opened, and Mrs. Fairlegh entered with a face filled with .significance. As she was mindful of the proverb respecting little pitchers., the children were dismissed and Agatha unburthened her mind. "1 was coming from the Poctory, John," she said, "when I saw- —whom do you think ?" "I can't imagine,"' declared Fairle'di. ''Margaret Fane, t should know her among a. thousand." "Margaret Fane! Did she see you ?" '".She pretended not. Oh, she's artful enough is that girl, and cunning enough for anything." declared Agatha, reading one of her own sex with tolerable correctness, as a woman seldom does, ooing prone to measure all her sisters by herself.

"I don't like this," said John, gravely : "there is something underhanded in it.' YVhat is she doing, here? "What does she want ?"

"Xeed you ask? She wants Edgar." "Does he know that she is here, I wonder ?"

''Of course. But what it means is more than I know. You must ask liim." ''l hardly like. When I asked Mm about her before he was so disagreeable."

"Then I will ask him/' said Agatha, doo/.sivelv. "'I takes something more than a cross look to turn me from the path, of duty." She took the first opportunity of questioning Mr. AVillowhy. doiiuj it with a brisk lnis-ness-liko air peculiarly irritat;nrr to the yonivi" m:>n. '•Oh. you are here. Edear." she said, oTi discovering him. and settling iier skirts on the couch. "T am glad to find you alone, for v,e may have a few words in nrivate."

F.dgar <_rro.in°rl in .spirit, then resigned himself to the torture.

"Havo you seen Margaret Fane since rciir return ?'"

Edgar was on the defensive at once He rose and looked ste-jdilv at lief. "T have. Yfhat then?

.Although according to herself., it more than a. cross look to divert Mrs. Fairlogh f r n:u the path of duty, there was something \ n the hlue ray shooting from Willowby's eyes that disturbed her composure.

'•When is your marriage to take 1)1 nee?"

"Xo doubt you will hear. Agatha, when I :>:n able to answer the question to myself." ''You have everything here to make you happy and comfortable," she pursued. "For my part I don't know why von wish to mnrrv at all."

'■lt is reasonable enough to suppose that Kdgar does not want the old name and race of Willnwhy to die out. to heroine extinct like the armadilloes, dear Mrs. Fairlegh."

It was the enejiiy. of eourse, who spoke, he having sauntered into t!ie room, but Agatha stood bravely to her guns. "1 should he sorry to think that my cousin would marry for so ignoble a motive," she said.

"Ignoble! Some think it a laudable ambition. In Edgars place 1 should. It would make ine sorry to think of the eld family seat in strange hands, instead, of passing from my children to my grandchildren, 'heirs of my royalty, suns of my heart.' "

Mrs. Faitlegh almost turned her back upon him. "In any case. Edgar," she went on, ignoring Herriek, "you might have looked higher than Margaret Fane. She is a flirt, ] knsw ; now a wife, or an ! engaged girl, should be reserved, adhesive " 1 "1 like that quality in an envelope." said Mr. Herriek, thoughtfully, "and perhaps it answer as well in a I wife." "You have never thought about marriage yourself, I presume," said Agatha scornfully. "Oh, yes, 1 have, my dear madam," Ihe replied, laughing. "I have thought 1 a great deal about it. and no doubt that I is why 1 am single to-day." ••You are so young. Edgar," said Mrs Fairlegh in a motherly tone, and with Jan inward resolve that no earthly i power should induce her to again reply j to Herriek. "and I don't approve of i earlv marriages." "Neither do I," said Herriek promptly; "'a young man married is a man that's marred.' Edgar, you should profit by your cousin's example." As John Fairlegh was still voting this thrust of the rapier was rather cruel, and Agatha could not parry it. "John is one person and you ere another. Edgar," she said sharply; "he. is quiet and firm: you are unstable, and foolish, and impulsive." "Therefore the sooner he mnrries the better," declared Herriek. "After all there's nothing like matrimony for stearying a man." Mrs. Fairlegh rose at once. "If you cannot answer me, Edgar," she said, "I will go. I did not come here to argue with Mr. Herriek, but with you." "Well, heaven knows, I don't want to argue," cried Willow by : "and when I need your advice, my dear Agatha, I'll ask you for it. Fpon my life I am dead tirad of being questioned, and examined, and talked at! It's enough \ to drive a -man mad ; but I suppose, the i one place on earth where he need not expect peace s in his own home!" Agatha walked from the room in j dignified silence. Had been si lone j he would hove stood her ground fearlessly. His blows always came straight j from the shoulder, and could be turned I :'s : de: but no one knew bow or where I Herriek would strike next, and his cuts ' always went home.

"ile is at the bottom of it all," -Abulia said mentally; "hut I shall find out what Margaret f'jiiie is doing here, an 1 it' anything about the marriage has been arrancod, or mv name is not .Fairlegh. 1 should not'fear anything if I could onlv get Coorw Herrick out of tin' In.use."

'I he thing most likely to drive a man away is to make him as uncomfortable as possible, in the house, and this policy Agatha adopted. two rooms were set aoart specially for Herrick. and had always been called his. One was his bedroom, the other a compound of dressing, reading, mid loung:ng room, and they were decidedly two of the host apartments in the lious-. One afternoon Herrick.. returning from Stretford, went upstairs to his room to find a transformation-scene going on. His boxes of Indian troplnes were in process of removal. An old and quaint tobacco-jar had been accidentally broken, and lay in two pieces on the floor, the central ornament of a heap of torn papers and dust, and fragments. =

The grey eyes travelled over the scene with cool amusement ; he picked up his jar. or the ruins of it. and blew off the dust.

"You can let those things alone, my good girl." he said tranquilly, addressing one of the housemaids;,'"' don't want my rooms disturbed."

'J hen the avenging spirit appeared, smiling. "1 suppose you are wondering what is going on here. .Mr. Herrick." she observed. "I have decided to take this room as a nursery, it is so much more cheerful than tilt other, and 1 am putting you into a smaller room. You won't mind. T am sure, and you will be quite as comfortable." "1 appreciate your efforts for mv coinfort at their full value, my dear Mrs. Fair)oa:h," he replied. "Since I came you have been untiring in vour endeavours to make me at home. Put I have a fancy for these rooms —a very strong attachment. The first to install me in them was Edgar's father. You who love YVillowby Park so dearly, can comprehend my affection for rooms called n; ; »e something longer than five vears."

Aatlia left him point: straight to Edgar, and appealing to him.

"For heaven's sake, let mo alone!" cried the sorely-badgered ymm'; man. "T detest these petty squabbles and disputes. If you wanted the rooms you could have taken them hefore. the house has heen in your care for five years, and it's rather queer to hegin improving now. Leave Herriek alone." "hie has yon completely under his thumh. One day you will see him in his true colours, not. hv the I'lercv of Providence, too late, T hope. However, Edg->'\ am I mistress here, or am I not:"

"T don't know." he answered, lifting his head with a gesture not unlike his father's; "one thing, however, is eertan—l am master." Mrs. Fairlogh then made a "iaildelivery" of her keys, laving a. shining hunch on the table' at Edgar's elbow, and retreated with the conviction that he would follow her with abject entreaty and much eating of humble pie. Kali-an-hour later she had the nleasure of hearing Herrick snatch up the keys of office, throw them in the air. and catch them, with the exclamation—"So T'm to he major-dome, nm T? This is like old times come again, when we were young, and innocent, and happy." (To be Continued.)