Chapter VIII.

Star (Christchurch), Issue 6884, 20 June 1890, Page 1

Chapter VIII.

ATBIO. Cecil Farquhar answered Mrs Ferrers' note in person. It was five o'clock, and he went to the little house in Vale Place, Poht street. Yes, Mrs Ferrers was at home, the smart maid tpldhim, and he ran lightly upstairß. At the door of the drawing-room he was conscious of feeling a slight shock of disappointment, and somehow the visit was j not aa happy as usual. On the little | Chippendale table, that stood at the top of the stairs to prevent the opening of the ■second door, on the other of which, in the. front,room, was the screen with the worked „ herons, lay a man's hat and stick. Cecil was half-minded to retreat, but he refrained. He pulled aside the heavy curtains ; he parted the beads and bamboos , and entered. Mrs Ferrers was lying back lazily in the chair with the white cat-kin, and a gentleman sat opposite to her. She started up as Farquhar came in, and he was glad he had not gone after all. "Mr Farquhar, how do you do?" Bhe said, putting out her hand. " You have found me out again. I was afraid you were going to drop me. Let me introduce Sir Lakeman, Mr Farquhar." The two men looked afc each other and bowed stiffly. Mrs Ferrers started some easy conversation, and tried to make it include the trio, but she found herself answered separately by each of the other two, while they avoided exchanging words with each other. The Bituß.t ; .on was strained. It was the old story of " Two's company." Mr Lakemjah felt that Farquhar made the objectionable third, while Cecil, on bis part, thought the other's presence • was an encroachment where he alojae had the right. Mra Ferrers made he__elf charming to both. She talked" lightly on topics of common inite^st, and succeeded in keeping the con- ..-_ trersation impersonal. " I should not think he will stop long." Farquhar was saying to himself. "At any rate I can sit him out," the -other was thinking. "If only Seringa would come in," was Mrs Ferrers' thought. " And yet perhaps on second thoughts the situation is, wholeMeanwhile a not too robust flow of talk went on. Sometimes one of the two. ■ men would drop out of it, sometimes the other • Mrs Ferrers never. Presently came temporary relief in the shape of the smart maid with tea ; and yet even here there came a little clash, when both men put out their hands for Mrs Ferrers' cup. She smiled on each. She was acutely miserable for one. He knew nothing of it and was inclined to be cross. *' You were going to sing," said Mr Lakeman, after a pause. "Do you remember you said the other day when Colonel Ans key " "Was I?" said Mrs Ferrers. "I will if you like. There is my music* choose a song for me " — and ho went over to the piano. " Why are you angry ?" she said softly to Cecil. She lowered her head and leant a little towards him. " What have I done?" "I don't know," he answered. "You are not quite kind to-day." "Why do you say that ?" she asked, in the same low voice, audible only to him. "Why? Can I help 'myself? Hush, don't speak !" for Mr Lakeman had chosen out a song, and had turned. " Will you rang this, Mrs Ferrers ?" he asked. Mrs Ferrers rose with her pretty smile and went to the piano. She looked at the music. " Oh, not that," she Baid hurriedly j " I think not that." " Don't you like it ?" he asked. " I am sorry, for I should have liked to hear it." "Very well," Baid. Mrs Ferrers, "you Bhall." She glanced over at Cecil Farquhar as she spoke, but he stood at the window, and his back was towards her. She struck the notes and sang, and he turned angrily. The movement was not lost upon her. " I know a maiden fair to see, Take care, She can both false and friendly he, Beware I Bewaro 1 Trust her not, Bhe is fooling thee I" Surely this waa done on purpose ? _ Ifc was. an odious_incident in an odiouß visit. Mr Lakeman stood behind her and turned over her pages for her, and Cecil Farquhar saw him looking down on her pretty head in unhidden admiration. To have kicked him would have been pleasure. As it was, however, he could only stand Btill and fume. Lakeman was a man of about thirty, of medium height, but well built and neat. He wore a short, pointed beard. He was dressed with great care and with taste. His manner was polished and easy, and his presence sufficiently good. Mrs Ferrers finished her song and rose from the piano. Mr Lakeman thanked her and praised her singing. Cecil Farquhar stood at the window and said nothing. " Did you get my note ?" asked Mtb ' Ferrers. " Yes," said Farquhar shortly. "I hoped Mrs Mud might have been here, but I will write." " And you are coming, I hope ? " I shall be happy, but I will write ; and now lam afraid I must be going. Goodbye, Mrs Ferreiß." He held out his hand coldly. He bowed stiffly to Mr Lakeman, and left the room. He waß at the foot of the stairs when he heard his name called softly. " Mr Farquhar." "Yes, Mtb Ferrers." " I want to speak to you. Come here for a moment, please." She stood looking over the balustrades. He went up to her. There was something infinitely soft in her voice. " You are angry with me," she said. « Why ? What have I done that I could help?" "Nothing," he said. "Only " "Only what?" «* Only I was right, Mrs Ferrers ; yon are not quite kind to-day." Mrs Ferrers made no answer to thiß. After a little pause she said : *f You did nofc come to see me yesterday. I missed you." Cecil's mood was a little impossible this ■afternoon. " Perhaps Mr Lakeman came instead," he suggested. "It would nofc much matter which, don't you kaow. I am sure you -would not care." ** You know that I care," she said. Chaftbb IX. JIBB FJ__-_-_-B8 IB BUCC_.SB_T.Ii. It was ten minutes later. Mr Lakeman was gone, and Mrs Ferrers was alone. She was sitting in her favonrite chair; her hands lay idly in her lap, and tears were slowly running down her cheeks. The sunlight came through the window, and fell upon hor pretty head. Her pose was good, bnfc she waa not thinking of this now. She was crying, yes orying, and what for ? She could not have told. And no one was likely to ask, iso what matter? She would cry if she chose. She wai. thinking of the words of her song. A worthless woman! and she had sung of herself. And now she waa, -crying because. well_ beoanae everything

was empty and hollow, and nothing satisfied. She started np presently and dried her eyere. There was a sound on the stairs, and she heard the curtains rustle in the inner room, and then the strings of bead and. bamboo were pulled aside,; and there entered— Cecil Farquhar. She gave a little cry. " I came back," he said, "because I was ungracious and a sulky brute, and I want to tell you— l didn't mean it, and lam sorry. I have been behaving like a boor this afternoon, and— Mrs Ferrers ! Why you have been crying." "Oh no, no," said Mrs Ferrers. "It is nothing— l don't know—" " Bnt you have, don't yon know, because I see you have. What iB it, Mrs Ferrers ? Won't you tell me? I am miserable enough myself, but I wish I could oomfort you." " Tou despise me," Baid Mra Ferrers quickly. "Why should you say what you don't mean?" ''Despise you?" he said Blowly, "despise you?" " You do," said Mrs Ferrers. " Why not? That song; you know — the one I sung — what does it describe if not women such as I ? And as for miserable, it is I who am miserable. What have you got to make you unhappy P" "But I am," said Farquhar, "I am, and ifc is just that. It is you— you, Mrs Ferrers. I know I am a fool, and X era', put words together a bit. But it is just that. You are like your.song, and ydtl mean nothing, and so I am awfully wretched ! You let me get to care for you, then I Bee you with other men, and you use the same words and smiles that have done duty with rue, and then you ask me why I am unhappy. It's too bad, Mrs Ferrers !" ■ Mrs Ferrers looked up. Then she smiled very softly. " Call me Mabel," Bhe said. He started to his feet and then threw himself down beside her. "You can't mean it," he said, "you can't. Oh ! Mra Ferrers, Mabel, I love you, I love you bo much, and I know I am an awful fool, and you are so clever and so beautiful. You can't mean that you care for me ?" "But I think I do," said Mra Ferrers. "Try me.". "Mabel," he said, "Mabel, I have so longed for you that it seems as if it could not be true, but it is, isn't it? You are not fooling me— if you were I'd shoot myself." "' Mrs Ferrers laughed her soft laugh. " Spare your powder," she said, then a very tender light came into the gray eyes. "Kiss me, Cecil," she said, "you have made me a happy woman. I love you very very dearly." And so Mrs Ferrers, the mercenary, the designing, gained her object. She had laid bold plans. She had held a good hand. She had played her cards carefully, and the game was hers. Clever MrS Ferrers.