CHAPTER IV.

Star (Christchurch), Issue 7808, 12 September 1903, Page 1

CHAPTER IV.

AT THE BECTOBT. Valentine was neither an Anthony nor a Juan, but that combination of saint and sinner which constitutes many a good man. When a man with less moral* strength and wider experience might have escaped, ho, from uncalculating simplicity, fell. He knew no women ; love had formed no part of his amusements. For three years he had stuck steadfastly to hard work— the dull grind of collecting material for his , book, and working it into shape, occupying his mind day and night, with Saturday golf and Sunday outings as sole recreation. And now that the work was put aside he ! was like a boy let loose from school. There was a good deal of the old Adam in him, | plus gentlemanly feeling (nofc possessed by his ancestor), which forbade him to lay the blamo on the woman. As tho stinger . vessel he fdt himself responsible for all that j ihs happened- -and did not at&ip.Pt to W£ i

i his responsibilities. From the moment I Vivienne said to him : "I am yours for ever, darling!" he recognised that, he also was hers for the same indefinite period. Ho. saw that kooner or later he must marry her — not without a pang of regret for the hard work to be abandoned, and the working out of another book suggested by his publisher as a sequel to his successful work on bacteria. The idea of marriage had scarcely presented itself to his imagination before that passionate outbreak. And ifc never occurred to him now to attribute that outburst to an excess of cousinly affection, and to plead working as x an^excuse for clearing oub of Rowton the-.raixt day. Bufc that means of escape suggested itself to Vivienne afc once, and she took care to block the way. "My dear father musfc never be allowed to suspect what has happened, hove," she said. " Your impulsiveness, naughty one, •would shock him terribly. He could never forgive you, and then — what would become of poor me!" The tie of relationship by her adroit management only served to bind her lover more securely. The use she made of cousinship to cover freer intercourse debarred his using it in an opposite direction. Stealth and secrecy sealed the bond. But although Vivienne gave him plainly •to, understand, with the .utmost delicacy, of course, that he would have to marry her as soon as time would sanction a formal declaration to darling papa, she gave Valentine very early intimation that justice should be tempered with mercy, and that she intended to make no despotic use of her power over him — tbat he should bave a free hand in fact when she was his wife. When he felt it his duty to confess that he -had once •kissed Tberese, she smiled afc his embarrassment. "You wicked, wicked man," she said, tapping his hand, and then pressing ifc to, her breast. "I suppose I musfc forgive you. Every man > has his amourettes before or after marriage; and ifc is quite too bourgeois* for a wife to make herself , or anyone else miserable over little peccadilloes." Valentine rather feared (for the girl's cake) thafc his confession would be followed by her dismissal. Bufc nothing of the kind took place naturally — she being an admirable maid and aboufc as clever asTEer mistress. ! Another step she took to show her. en* -tire freedom from the tiresome mania of jealousy. She insisted upon (his going with her to call on thafc charming Miss Macister. " Though I expect you will flirt with her most abominably," she said, with the smile of foregone forgiveness. Open candour and indulgence is an admirable safeguard against secret philandering. Valentine submitted with a good; grace, of course, albeit, with an inner repugnance for which he could in no way account. He associated Miss Magister with fche breezy heath, sunlight, and the wholesome odour of beech and fir trees. He wished to see her " ajrain, to repeat the experiences of their first meeting; the same tender sentiment, fche same unreserved interchange of thought would be impossible in the presence of Vivienne. Why? What was it that made the meeting of those two girls repugnant to his feelings? Was it" that was to him the embodiment of purity land sweet honesty, and that he was detecting something so opposite beneath the I paint, and perfume of his cousin. Bufc he regarded the ; friendship of those two with i an.^ instinct^ _c- perception thafc the ■ lovely UrttKKSßnoo of the one might be sullied and defiled ■by contact with the other— thafc Vnnenne'a lips might leave a stain pn 'J^__S'^-.^'^»^yr : ' : '■?'*>■ • '""'-'"'■" "" •"■'■'■■ .'■'" 4: ; l *^nenne-^l_-'Th* I _i.v« %ith Miss -Magisterthe moment she saw her. So she said, and 'Ker manner supported the assertion. She. was cordially, amiable from fche very .first! (Who but a fool shows a bad hand?) "My 'cousin has raved about you to such an extenfc'that I could not resist the tempfca- • tion to call upon you," she said to Midge, " but already: you have converted curiosity to a better sentiment. Although in strict form," she added', turning to Mts Magister, "you ought- first to have called upon us." "Noblesse oblige," said Mrs Magister, .with- a curtsy. " Raison de plus." answered Vivienne, wifch a graceful inclination of her 'beautiful head. They presently walked round the rectory garden, Vivienne walking witb 'Mrs Magister, to give perfect freedom to Valentine following with Midge. • Midge seemed under a little constrainfc afc first — perhaps because the memory of their long, delightful walk had secretly been so dear to her; bufc Valentine was far more silent and " jerky" and ill at ease. However, a caterpillar humping his way across the path took them oufc of themselves, and by the time he was picked iip and safely ensconced on a rose they had regained their former footing, and Midge, looking up into her. companion's face with fche same open smile and arch turn of the head, read) the same tender kindness that had won her hearfc in the depth of his eyes. Then their tongues were loosed and laughter rippled in the sqme channel. It refreshed Val's somewhat fatigued senses with God knows what strange sentiment of hope. The sons of the lark, the first breath of spring, the scent of new-mown hay were in her very presen&e. Returning across the lawn fchey met Dr Stxirgess stumping down from the house. Vivienne recognised him at once. " You are surprised to see me here," she said after the usual formalities. " Nofc at all," he said ; " there is no pleasanter place in Rowton when you are here," he added with a smiling nod to Midge and her grandmother. '- My cousin has absolutely cured me 1" "That's not a bit more surprising," replied the old doctor coldly. Then turning to Valentine, he said: " I should be glad to know you, Mr Biron. If you ever feel the need of fresh air and a man's society, come fco the top of Rowton Hill for our mutual advantage." "You will stay and take tea with us?" said Mrs Magister as fhey approached the stand set under fche oak. "iY_ay I?" asked Vivienne, appealing to Valentine. "You see," she explained fco Mrs Magister, "although I was born at Rowton, English manners and forms are quite foreign to me through living abroad all my life, and I don't wish to commit. a solecism the moment I enter English society." " I assure you we avoid formality to the best of our ability," laughed Mrs Magister. "Why, then, the bar to friendship is broken down already, and you will teach me many things that I want to know. There is so touch to learn if I am to settle down at all respectably in England. How do you make this delicious tea?" The stuff was poison to her after the straw-coloured infusion she made in her own samovar from a leaf that cosb six roubles a pound in St Petersburg. Then conversation became general, and everyone was lively and well pleaded s[tvb Dr Sturgess, who, seated a iittie apart from the group with Eis elbows resting on his knees, looked on and munched a dry biscuit in moody silence. A great deal is to be picked up even from general conversation by a shrewd observer. And no observer was mon; shrewd than Dr Sturgc.s. Every word that fell upon his ear was analysed, every look or gesture was noted by his small grey eyes — curiously active in comparison with the : measured movements of his cumbrous person — and all formed material for speculation and deduction. ! Then the party broko up. and they fell [ to discussing each other, ns is usual. j i . '- You arc .Quite. rkJak Midge/ said Mrs j

Magister; "Mr Biron is exceptionally l nice." Dr Sturgess nodded. Midge could have hugged him for that sign of approval. " And the Honorable Vivienne is perfectly charming !" Dr Sturgess sidelong spat oufc a chip of biscuit. " Do you think fchey can be engaged?" " Granny !" exclaimed Midge, " what on earth should make you think that?" " Well there seemed to me a kind of proprietary manner about her, and her way of appealing to him." "Bufc they are cousins — and they have only seen each other for ten days." "That may account for, the engagement," said Dr Sturgess, "had he known her faten months he might have .escaped." " Then you also think they are engaged ." said Mrs Magister. " Sure of it. Title and estate go fco the young fellow, and fche Honorable Vivienne does not intend to lose anything by her father's death." " Doctor ! you surely cannot think thafc sweefc girl capable of suoh eoid calculation." "Calculation! Every action of her day L_ studied, from the stippling of her face in the morning to the drugging »of her senses afc night." "Doctor!" Mrs Magisfcer's tone of remonstrance was almost indignant. The sturdy doctor turned his shoulder to her indifferently — to follow Midge with his eyes. She had .quietly risen from her seat and was walking towards the house with bent head. "Touched," he said to himself with a sigh, then to Mr 9 Magister with a jerk of the head: " What a pity^ Granny !" " But do you really think Miss Vivi-e-nne — : — " " I am not thinking at all of thafc worthies!* young person — I am thinking of Midge and Mr Biron. And here's the pity of it — thafc they should not- have met and mated before thafc painted devil stepped into their •path." He turned away, thrusting ..his hands deep into his pockets, staring straight before him, and- tapping' his toes on the ground in an impatient rhythm. Mrs Magister had never seen him so violent and unreasonably vexed before* When she could recover breath she said quietly. "Mr Biron is nothing to Midge." " Well, if he isn't he ought to be.'' "I am sure she has no feeling of that kind." "Oh, nonsense. Do you think I don't know the symptoms of heart-sickness? I do know them, and so do you. , Do you wish me to believe that the probability of marriage between Midge and Mr Biron had not entered your head, thafc it- didn't occur to you when . iVlidge first introduced you, thafc it wasn'fc in your mind when you saw them together to-day? Did . you not see their happiness in each other and draw your conclusions from it? Of course you did. You may be a hypocrite, granny, fqr you're a woman; but I know you're not blind, for you can see as well as I can." " And possibly better, doctor," retorted the old lady; "fori can see good where you see only evil. It's as well/perhaps, that Mr Biron is engaged to his cousin, for poor Midge could not have' been his wife." ■'. "iWhyynot^". .- . " Before long. Mr Biron will be Lord Rowton, while Midge " she .dropped her voice, glancing towards ths house. , v v-- J $:&_ W^eM^^^fr-aoi^-er^or iMi&f Sft. John, convicted murderer, now in .penal -sei-vftude at Dartmoor.* Well, what of that? She does not know ; and I don't intend to tell her. Do you?" " God forbid !" said she, adding, after a moment's reflection : " But I suppose her future husband, wili have to be told before her marriage." * "It will be a pretty test <xf his worth, " replied Dr Sturgess, screwing up his little eyes upon the horizon. " I don't believe it would moke a pin of difference to a man of Birdn's stamp." A meditative pause ensued, and then Mrs Magister said quietly: " I suppose I ought ito let the Rev Jenkins know thafc we shall not want fche Rectory next year." " Nolb wont the Rectory next year !" exclaimed fche doctor arousing brusquely — "why?" " Don't you know thafc St John comes out of prison next year?" "Perfectly well. He comes out in March." "WeU?" "Well?" • " He is sure to come to look for my poor child whom he left here!" ' " She is dead — buried twenty yeais ago." " But his daughter lives, and he will find out that, Midge, though she does not bear his name, as that daughter; and he will levy blackmail as the price of keeping her secret and leaving her to me." "The greater reason for facing him and fighting the batitle lout at once. Leave bim to me. I know how to silence the rascal. If he thinks you fear him he will' bleed' you to a certainty, and flight will not save you." ' " I couldnt idek it. Thing of Midge— if the poor girl should learn that she is the daughter of such a wretch !" "As you please ; but don't let ham leai-i the moment he ccanes that you have been living here sumimer after summer, and are keeping out of the way for the first time next year. That will put him on your track at "once. He'll find you in your hiding place for a certainty, and I shall nofc be tbare to help you. Now go in and look ao cheerful as you can. Midge needs you." Dr Sturgess turned hia steps towards Rowton Hill, saying to himself " ' There'*s a divinity that .shapes our ends^ roughrkew them how we will.' " (To be continued.)