Copyright Story. A Change of Partners.

New Zealand Graphic, Volume XLIV, Issue 9, 2 March 1910, Page 55

Copyright Story. A Change of Partners.

By

W. F. NORRIS,

author of “My Friend Jim,” Etc-

FRANK Maddison was very unhappy. He was also much astonished, as well as extremely angry, and he considered that he had ample warrant for being all three. To be eurtly, smilingly refused by the girl of your heart must always be a mortifying experience; it becomes an infuriating one when she has for weeks past pretty clearly given you to understand that you had only to speak the word and that all would be well. So it was with a red face and a soul full of bitterness that this handsome young gentleman stalked away from Combe Park, where Miss Cicely Bayford lived, and made for his own neighbouring domain of Rushdon, where, alas! she would never live now. Perhaps he had made rather too sure of success. She had incidentally intimated as much, and indeed it was evident enough that he had been mistaken in her; yet he could not help thinking that that had been at least as much her fault as his. In any ease, she had had no sort of right to imply, what was absolutely untrue, that, he had relied upon his undeniable advantages to win for him a prize of infinitely greater value than all the money and lands in the world. At- least, he had honestly believed the prize in question to be of that inestimable •worth; but one lives and learns. Now that he knew the girl to be a mere heartless flirt, of course matters were altered. For the rest, he was certainly entitled to regard himself as eligible. Young, good-looking and master of a fine estate, to which he had somewhat unexpectedly euceeded a few months before, there were not a great many spinsters in the county or out of it who would have been likely- to turn up -their noses at him. He said to himself, as he strode along through the deepening darkness of a grev. autumn afternoon,' that the sea was still stocked with good fish; he likewise said that a man in his situation was bound to marry; finally he groaned out that he would never in his life want to marry anybody except cruel, flaxen-headed, blue-eyed Cicely Bayford. This was so dreadfully sad that it ■would not bear thinking about. There are. however sorrows —and this seemed to be one of them —which will not only bear talking about, but even, in the case of certain expansive temperaments, insist on being talked about. That, n® doubt, was why Mr. Maddison, when he found himself at the entrance of Down Cottage, hesitated for a moment, then marched up to the door and, ringing the bell, asked whether Miss Hartley was at home. The maid answered that Miss Hartley was in, but that Mrs. Hartley was not very well and hid not been able to leave her room all day. He politely said that he was sorry for that (although in truth he was not the. least sorry), and presently he was seated beside a -cheerful fire, while tall, dark Miss Hartley, who was Cicely’s intimate friend and who had been most kind and friendly to him too ever since he had become" her neighbour, poured out a. cup of tea for him. He poured out, m return, his tale of woe, to which sympathising attention was given. Everybody in those parts was agreed that a more sympathising and sympathetic person than Geraldine Hartley did not breathe. Clever, too, and bravely competent to deal with the daily problems of straitened means. The tiny cottage which she and her invalid mother rented at a nominal figure from Colonel Bayford was charmingly furnished; Geraldine herself always contrived to s charmingly, if very simply, dreasvi: and as for her personal charn* well, that was doubtless a gift of tho gods.- and possibly she did not merit praise for possessing it, although she was inevitably loved for it. This charm of hers had never been more apparent or more soothing to Frank Maddisoit than it was now, while she sat listening to him, with her hands lightly clasped on her knees and her soft grey eyes say-

ing a good deal more than her tongue did. As a matter of fact, her tongue said remarkably little; but she quite understood, which was the main thing. She could not be expected to speak against her friend Cicely. She could hardly be expected, perhaps, to tell him that he had been abominably' treated. It was enough that she should think so. In the matter of counsel and comfort, she limited herself to remarking that .very few things in life arc as unfortunate as they seem to be at first sight, and that if one has made a mistake, one may' at least be thankful when it is not an irremediable one. She did not advise him to try again—he had not the slightest intention of trying again and would deeply have resented such a suggestion—but she hoped and believed the day would come when he would be able to look back upon this trial without blaming anybody for it. She may have been a trifle over sanguine there, for Frank’s personal conviction was that he would blame, and justly blame. Cicely Bay ford as long as he lived; but, on the other hand, the day on which he was to announce that he no longer regretted what had happened to him arrived with amazing rapidity. It arrived, to be precise, exactly a fortnight after that of his rejection, and on each of the preceding thirteen days he had had interviews of varying length with kind Miss Hartley, who had either welcomed him to her hospitable fireside or had met him by appointment in the woods and glades of his own adjacent demesne. She was patient, she was intelligent, she was not too compassionate, she had an indescribable knack in gccl hum ou?" with himself.’ 'Moreover, she was unquestionably beautiful—far more so, when you came to think of it, than Cicely Bayford. And since it was imperative that Rushden Hall should be given a mistress, why seek farther afield, with the practical certainty of faring worse? Thus it came to pass that on the fourteenth day Miss Hartley received convincing proof of the efficacy of her curative treatment. She said gravely: — “ I take this as a very high compliment

indeed. You come to me, bleeding from your wounds ’’ “ I'm not bleeding a bit!” interrupted Frank. "Oh, you're bleeding. Nevertheless, you come to me in that lacerated condition and commit your whole future to my hands! It shows that I must have great influence with you, and such influenceas that over a fellow -creature isn’t a thing to be lightly thrown away. One can’t but recognise the responsibility that it carries with you. It seems to me that 1 ought not to refuse you; though of course you are not in love with me.” “Of course 1 am!” the young man protested. “ Do you think I should ask you to marry me, Geraldine, if I were not?” "I don’t quite know what to think yet, except that, as I say, the confidence which you must feel in me is both flattering and in a manner compelling. I hardly’ like to reject it ” He interrupted her again, and this time the interruption was of a demonstrative character which she at once checked. There must be nothing of that kind yet, she said. An engagement, yes; she would agree to an engagement, upon the condition that it was not to be publicly given out; but he would understand that before she could definitely consent to be his wife it would be neccessary for her to test the sincerity of the sentiments which he professed. Tiie y’oung man had to admit, rather reluctantly, that this was not unreasonable. He hoped, however, that his period of probation would not be unduly protracted; he desired to say most emphatically that he, for his part, held himself bound to Miss Hartley; and he was of opinion that, since the matter was really as good as settled, immediate neighbours at all events, might be informed of it. “The Bayfords, for instance, ought to bo told, I think.” “ Oh, if you mean you want Cicely to bo told, I have no objection,” answered Geraldine, repressing a short outbreak of laughter, in which her suitor did not join. “ I will tell her myself, as a confidential communication if you like.” She kept her word that same afternoon Of course, as Cicely Bayford’s close friend, she had already heard that young lady’s version of an affair which had caused no small surprise, ami annoyance in the Combe Park household. Consequently' she had been" made-aware that if Frank Maddison had been sent to the rightabout he had had only his own insufferable assurance and conceit to thank, and that no girl with a particle ot self-respect could think of accepting a man who took her answer for granted before she opened her lips. Geraldine had not said a word in contravention of that view, but had listened sympathisingly, as was her wont, and had certainly seemed to approve of

her friend’s action To most people, therefore, the task of announcing a purpose to become her friend's successor might have presented itself as somewhat formidable; but Geraldine was al way' self-possessed. " Yes, I know it sounds rather shocking,” she gently' admitted, in reply ta certain trenchant comments, "but that should not deter one from undertaking what looks like a distinct mission. 1 really believe that I—-and perhaps nobody else—can cure poor, dear Frank of those little defects of character which have, culturally enough, repelled you. It must be owned that he needs some reforming.” • < • “I should rather think he’ did!” exclaimed the irate Miss Bayford. “So I have made up my mind to tryBut, Cicely dear, you mustn't cry about itor y ou will discourage me at the outset.’* “I am not crying!” declared Cicely in dignantly. “At least, if I am,” she added. “it’s for you, not for myself, Heaven knows! I’m more glad than I can say’ to have done with him. But it’s too dreadful that you should throw yourself away upon such a .shallow, contemptible fellow! I'm sure you know that I don’t say it to be disagreeable, Geraldine, but—you can’t possibly believe that he cares for you!” "He says he does,” Miss Hartley’ replied. with her quiet smile. “Perhaps, even if he doesn’t, he may be taught to do so. I hope to teach him a good deal in aeomparatively short space of time. ’ Her hopes were fulfilled. Her hopes generally were; for she was a serenely’ resolute person. Whether the lessons which she inculcated were of a nature to promote poor Frank Madd Ison's immediate happiness was another question. He was to discover not only that his future wife meant to be obeyed, but that she had been very literally in earnest when she had spoken of testing him. The methods by which she contrived to open, his eyes to the distressing fact that ha was a rather raw and self-satisfied youth were too numerous and too diverse to be recorded at length. In employing them she doubtless achieved one of her objects, and it may be that she did not ranch ear® if she sacrificed that other which she hair mentionel to Cicely as being possible of attainment. He did as he was bid; fol lie was' upon his trial and in some sense upon his honour; but he thought Geraldine'needlessly cruel, and- what ho especially resented was her insistence upon his accompanying. her almost daily to Gombe Park. It was tfue as she urged, he had no quarrel with tlio Bayfords, and it -was certain that ths. master of the house, w ho would gladly have welcomed him as a son-in4aw, had no wish for a rupture of friendly’ relations; but, under all the circumstances, he could not enjoy meeting Cicely, much less being left alone with her. And.

Geraldine wag perpetually finding pretexts fur leaving him aktte with her. “J du think you might spare me these interviews.” he rei*onatrated, as he was leaving the h<»uae with hU amiable tyrant one-evening; "you don’t know Ih>w beastly tkcv are!”

r x ‘f can <&!(•«/ she tranquilly replied; •iburt yuti mustn't ask to be spared anything ydt. You are being tested, remember. lie not weary in well-doing; in due •eason you will reap if you faint not.” He was beginning to be weary; he was to Idrink that lie would rather like to faint: be was beginning to think tliat he would rather like to die. Cre.raldine, it had to be assumed, meant well; but she was trying him too highly, she was overshooting the mark. She could not have realised what sufferings a man must undergo when he is continually thrown into the company and exposed to the pitiless sarcasms of a girl whom he has once loved.

Whether Miss Hartley realised his sufferings or not, she allowed no sign of putting & term to them. The advent of a young man. Longridge by name, who, after some weeks, came to stay at Combe Park, and who was described to him as a rising barrister, ought to have given him relief, inasmuch as this stranger lost no time in making hot. undisguised love to Cicely; but Frank, being for various reasons sore all over, was hard to please, and his sole sentiment with regard to Mr. Anthorn' Longridge was an ovewrhelming desire to take a running kick at that gentleman.

Perhaps Anthony Longridge deserved to be kicked, and perhaps Geraldine Hartley was entitled to think so. She was, at any rate, entitled to rebuke him. as she did, for the very rude and violent lan guage in which he saw fit to address her immediately after his arrival. If. a

twelvemonth back, lie had addressed her in a very different fashion, and if since then he had not troubled himself to address her at all, what was she to conclude, except that he had become oblivious of her existence* It was all very well to allege that he had honourably abstained from offering marriage until his prospects should justify him —as they now did —in ■taking such a step; but how could she know that without being told? She had been left free; and since somebody, it appeared, had informed Mr. Longridge that she was going to marry Frank Maddison. she would not deny the truth of the statement. although the engagement had not yet been made public. Thereupon Mr. Longridge, after sardonic compliments and wrathful congratulations, observed that be also was now free, and that there were developments which made a man feel jolly thankful for his freedom. He made such prompt and practical use. of the rc.'OV("(*J privilege that at the end of a week he was engag'd tG Cicely Rayford; and really it was doubtful whether this precipitate betrothal brought happiness or satisfaction t‘o a single one of those directly or indirectly concerned therein. Anthony Longridge had propose] to Cicely for no better reason than that be was furious with a certain lady who had. as he considered, virtually •jilted him ; Cicely hid accepted .offer for the ike of being avenged upon Frank, Bud perhaps also a little in order to show a kind friend of hers that rhe game of appropriating oth:*r people’s admirers 5s one at wh ; di two can play. Colonel and Mrs. Bayford were anything but pieased with a match which they could not quite see their way to vet), yet which they did not deem nearly good enough for their spoilt child. It was, •therefore, no wonder thir \he persons above enumerat' d went ab»at with smiles more or but assuredly Frank Ma Idison * h id no right whatever to be angry, and he was •by far the angriest of them all. He asked Geraldine whether she did not think Unit sori of thing do a aright <ckening, and hi- tempo - was uji implored .when she blandly rcp’ied: ”1 can’t see why you should think it 80. 1 wa< not surprised at Cicely’s being Tai her disgusted with yon for transferring your alhetions so suddenly, ’oeca.’se you really were in love with her you know, but as it appears that she never was in love with you. you can hudiy accum- her of ini on-isiency, can you?” lie was ready to quarrel over it; but to quarrel with G z, raJdinr Hartley against lier wish would have required more doxtvrith than he could boast of. Besides, to tell the truth, he had grown more than a little afraid of her. She had a faculty for reading In* utmost thought:) whmh wa> at times most di*eon<vrling; latterly, too. she had proved quite as adroit in putting him out of conceit with

himself as she had been nt the start in smoothing his rutiled plumage. He longed to be off his bargain fit had eomc to that!), but lie was very sure that she did not intend te let him off, and he was irrevocably pledged.

Well, it was impossible to quarrel with Geraldine, there was no difficulty at all about quarrelling with Cicely, and this he discovered as soon as he took if upon him io let her know what he thought of her behaviour in engaging herself to a man for whom he was convinced that -she had no genuine affection. She turned upon him at once with an obvious retort, and forthwith they set to work to exchange mutual denunciations until one of them was out of breath and the other was in tears. It was at the annua] Combe Park ball that this very undignified scene took place. Frank ajid Cicely, who had been dancing together, had retired into the unteaanted billiard-room, and had there so far forgot ton what was due to themselves and one another as to fall out in the manner described. But that was not the worst of it. The worst of it was that recriminations had led to or implied avowals, and so, when Cicely began to cry, Frank’s arms were around her before he iuid time to recognise the enormity -of such modes of consolation. He recognised this to the full on hearing a subdued cough—or was it a

smothered laugh?—close to his elbow, and on becoming aware of two interested spectators, neither of whom looked quite as indignant as the case warranted. But he was too dumbfounded to notice their looks, and could only stare stupidly at them in mute dismay. Cicely displayed more presence of mind. She freed herself from Frank’s encircling arm, hastily dried her eyes, and said: ‘ Air. Longridge, our engagement is off.” “So it appears,” remarked Mr. Longridge, ironically. Then Frank got up and turned to Geraldine with the air of a dying gladiator who demands the coup. de grace. “Well,” said he, “there it isl’ I have nothing to say for myself—nothing! What are you going to do with me?” Miss Hartley tapped her chin meditatively with her closed fan. “I was just wondering,” was her calm response. “1 suppose an action for breach of promise would lie, and heavy damages might teach you a lesson; but really you have had about as many lessons of one kind and another from me as 1 care to give you, and I am inclined to leave the finishing touches of your education to Cicely. It has escaped your memory, no floubt, that you were to have beeii my partner for the dance which is just beginning——” “And Miss Bayford was to have been mine,” put in Longridge. “Yes,” Geraldine resumed; “but, all things considered., perhaps we may as well agree to an exchange.” So, although the other couple did not return to the ballroom, she and Longridge had that waltz together, and when it was over, he said: ’•Geraldine, it’s my belief that the Whole lot of us have danced to your piping from first to last.” “l-.it really. Anthony?” she asked, with n demure smile. “But then you're so abnormally acute!’’