CHAPTER V.

Star (Christchurch), Issue 7232, 19 October 1901, Page 1

CHAPTER V.

DESCRIBES XX ENGLISH HOM.B. ' Three miles, from the long white high road that runs between sedate old Shrewsbury and .the town of Wellington, there stood and still stands, a prominent object ia the landscape, high upon a- wooded hill to the right, the ancient castle of Wroxeter, one of the best preser-ved and most historic of the Norman castles of England Seen through the trees, golden in their autumn tints, it was an imposing grey pile, ■manyturreted with narrow • windows, whence, long ago, archers showered , their shafts, but now half overgrown by an evergreen mantle. Closer inspection showed that it was a fortress no longer-. • The old moat, once fed' from the winding Severn close by, Avas now a well-kept garden with, gxa-velied walks and trees cut into fantastic shapes, while around were level lawns sweeping away to the great park beyond. * Truly, it was a grand old place this feudal "home to which Dudley Chisholm retuinedon the night following his farewell of the frivolous woman with whom- his name had been linked. He had invited for three days' shooting two, men, Colonel Murray Kerr, a "retired military attache, and Henry Benthall, a man wno was at college with him, and who had, after beiag called to the Bar, successfully contested East Glamorganshire. All three had travelled down from Euston. together, but Dudley, after a sleepless nighty had risen long before his guests and wandered through the great lonely hails full of melancholy musings, lie would !have put the anen off, for he was in no mood to entertain, bub there had unfortunately been no time. „ So he spent ah idle hour- alone before his guests appeared for breakfast. 'He -wandered en through the great sombre hall, the vaulted ceiling of which had so often echoed to the laughter of the banquets held there in bygone days, and now tenanted only by the long rows of armour of his dead forefat-heri. His steps spunded hard and weird \ipon the floor of polished oak, and as he passed the huge fireplace where once the oxen were roasted whole to satisfy the appetites of medieval warriors, a servant t'irrew open the door leading into the long picture gallery. The great handsome rooms, with their ancient tapestried, wonderful carpets, marvellous carvings, old Venetian mirrors, and tfme-darkened gilt, even in ihe bright light of morning seemed to his -sombre and full of ghosts of the past, as indeed they wer». He only used the library and half a dozen of the smaller and more modern rooms away in the eastern wing. Those great state apartments which he had just passed through he seldom visited. , .; i 'From the great drawing-room, .a huge apartment with a rather low ceiling curiously carved, h* passed on, and traversing one : of -the a-nte-rooms found himself 'in' the l^ng .corridor which ran the whole length of the quadrangle. The stone flooring was wornvhollow in- the centre .by the- tramp of generations tf ■arm«(l,jmejj,. and the quaint arched doors were heavy and studded wilh great" nails.' He stood there for a moment glancing through, the diamond panes, out into the ancient courtyard, for the breakfast gong was sounding. His guests would be awadting him, therefore he must tto-royf caje to the dogs. for a few hours, and. tvy and amuse them. . _ * Turning, he traversed the long corridor, and as he did so recollected the strange fradition which he had heard in his youth, namely, that in that passage had been, seen at certain intervals a curious little humpbacked old lady in rusty black, who "walked" the corridor even in the middle of the day, ' and suddenly disappeared through a door which for a. full century pasb had been walled < up. The legendary old lady was known in the family as Lurly Margaret, and whenever she appeared it was a presage of evil to the Ohishofens. Dudley smiled as he remembered his childish terror when iis old nurse used to relate those dramatic stories about' her deformed ladyship, and the evil influence she exerted upon his house. It is curious how deeply rooted become some of the convictions of our childhood, especially where a family superstition is concerned, and Chisholm, even though a, level-headed man of the world, had in his more mature years found himself wondering whether, after all, there had' been any foundation for the legend. Family ghosts do rot, however, appear nowadays. Thtey were all " laid " last century. So he laughed again to himself, and continued across the east wing to the bright breakfast room', where his two guests were already awaiting him. "What a lazy beggar you are, Dudley !" cried Benthall as he greeted them and took his seaifc at the head of the table. " No, my dear fellow," protested the host. "I — oh! well, I've been up quite a long time, and have already consulted Marston about our sport to-day. He says there are some strong birds over in the Dean Copse, so we'll work that this morning." " Excellent. I recollect the splendid sport we got there last year," exclaimed the Colonel, tall, white-haired, soldierly old fellow, with a* somewhat florid complexion and a well-trimmed moustache. He was an excellent shot, and now that he had'ietired ff^m the Diplomatic Service spent the "w^iie of the shoe-ting season at one house or another up and down the country. He was a popular all-round sportsman, always welcome at any house party, for he was full of droll stories, a bachelor, and a great favourite among the ladies. He had graduated as military autache at the Embassies in. Vienna, St Petersburg, . and finally in Rome; therefore he was a cosmopolitan of cosmopolitans, and at the same time a, thorough Englishman, and one of Dudley's most intimate friends. There were letters on the table for their host, two large bulky ones marked " On Her Majesty's Service," from the Foreign Office, and another, the handwriting on the envelope Ihe kn-ew well to be Claudia's. He glanced at it, then placed it in 'his pocket unopened. " Oh, read it, my dear fellow, laughed the Colonel, quickly divining that it was from a woman. '' Don't mind us in the " Only tell us who's the lady," chimed in Benthail merrily. - " Oh, it's nothing," Dudley assured them, rather annoyed nevertheless. "From Lady Richard— eh?" suggested the old officer chaffingly. "By Jove!" ihe •went on, "she's really charming. I was staying last week down at Fernhurst, the phee old Meldrum has just bought in- Sussex, and she was there. Quite a host of emart women were staying there, but she, of course, eclipsed them all, I fear she's «, gad flirt, Dudley, my boy, even though they say sfte'Sja bit fontl ■of you." " I know sfoe's a flirt," Ohisholm answered rather thoughtfully. The mention W. STRANGE AND CO. are now showing exceptional value in blankets and flan-

of the name of Meldrum brought to his mind what Claudia, had admitted — namely, that she. had taken Lady Mel-drum to his rooms. The old Colonel, who always maintained a diplomatic 'smartness in ,liis attire, was a terrible gossip. He was « living " Debrett" and a guide to kn-cwledge on social affairs in half the courts of Europe. He knew _. everybody, as well as everything worth knowing about them. Perhaps it wa« owing toMus inquisitive instinct, cultivated during . the long service as attache, which, to put it plainly, is only a synonym for official spy. So without any thought of hurting his young host's feelings, hs chattered on— "We had splendid sport down at Fernhurst. -.The .birds were very strong, and there were several excellent shots. But Lady Richard was, of course, the centre of all the attractions. The whole of the male contingent were absolutely her slaves, and, by Jove! I don't think in all my diplomatic career I've ever seen a woman, play them off one against the other with such finesse. Meldrum seems to have got into society wonderfully of late. The young Grand Duke Stanislas was there, and he made desperate love to the pretty widow. Indeed, so; marked were their flirtations that certain of , the feminine contingent declared themselves absolutely scandalised, and left. But, of course, the real truth was that they saw themselves entirely otit cf fh« running. One thing, however, struck me as curious — very curious— and that -was, that the hostess, a rather matronly and bourgeois* person, appeared to throw the pair into one another's society as much as possible. At any rate,^ the- outrageous flirtation nearly : resulted in an open scandal. To my mind, Dudley, she's playing a deuced dangerous game. Forgive me for saying so, because 'She's. your friend, but you know the proverb of the pitcher going io the welt too often." '" Angling after a Grand Duke sounds bold," observed. Benthall, attacking his cutlet. " I always thought, Dudley, old chap, that she had ssfc her mind on becoming mistress of Wroxeter." ."Oh, I know," exclaimed ihelr ihost impariently. although trying to conceal his annoyance. "A lot of rot has been talked. I'm quite well aware of whait ycu fellows allude to. , But I assure you that I'm a confirmed baohelor. But «-veryon«, seems to'bs linking my name with Claudia Xevill's," Dudley remarked, after commencing his breakfast. "I really can't see why." " But I can," declared the Colonel bluntly. "You're a fool — if' you'll forgive, me for saying 50.." '"Why?" • "A fool for giving a .second thought to> a woman of her stamp," he answered. '''Qflgd^h^aveiw! if you knew ha.M the 1 about her- you'd cut her dead." , • "A pretty woman, smart and popular as she is, always gets talked about, and her enemies invent sjjme cruel story or otlher. Half tlie women in, London are envious of Claudia Nevill, hence all these absurd and scandalous tales," Chishiolm declared. "Ah!" laughed the Colonel, "as I said, you're gone on her, like the others, Dudley. Yea are old -. friends, everj-cne knows. It's a pity that she's so reckless." "In what manner has she been, rockless?": ■■. ■ '.■■■■■ "Well, if you had been down at Fernhurst and ?een her with the young Grand Duke, you wouldn't defend her actions as you, are jx>vf doing,— well, by Joy.e-I you cfffuldn't. " I'm a man of tlie world, you know, but I must say tha ; t the flirtation was ''simply outrageous." "And is every woman w?ho glances prettily at a man from behind her fan or chats to a fellow' in a oonservatory to be condemned?" asked his host. "If so, the-n socitty has suddenly become intensely puritanical. '' B,em ember that ; the license not allowed to the unmarried girl is perfectly correct with a widow." • "Widow!" laughed Murray-Kerr, adjusting his mowocle. "My dear boy, I'm perfectly with you, but then the fair Claudia i-s ohe of ten millions. She's more like a girl cf eighteen, both in face, figure, and the choice of lovers than the usual staid, ingenious, and stale relict to whom we are sen accustomed." "''just because she's popular, ' all this confounded : gossip is talked. My. name is coupled with hers, and all sorts of ridiculous stories have been started about us. I know, for I've already overheard them." "Then if you knew, Dudley, why the deuce don't you take my advice' a-nd cut her?" asked tie old o&cer, fixing hip hasb ■with Ms keen eyes.