CHAPTER V. BEFORE BREAKFAST.

Te Aroha News, Volume VII, Issue 410, 12 October 1889, Page 6

CHAPTER Y. BEFORE BREAKFAST.

In the bleak raw dawn of the wet October morning, Sir John Dangerfield'3 guests went home. While the lamps still gleamed among the flowers on the landing and stairways Mrs Vavasor, trailing the yellow glimmer of her silk robe behind her, went up to her own room — went up with the fag end of a tune between her lips, a foverish lustre in her eyes, a feverish flush, not all rouge, on her cheeks, looking, as ' a hopeless adorer at the foot of the stairs quoted : 4 In her lovely silken murmur Like an angel clad with wings. 1 ' She folded her hands one over the other, and looked up in his set, stern face, with an aggravating smile on her own. 'It is of no use your blustering and threatening ; if you should feel inclined that way, my dear baronet, it will do no good. I won't go. But you are too much a soldier and a gentleman to even try to bully a poor littlte woman like me. I have an object in coming to Scarswood ; when that object is attained, I shall leave — not one instant betore.' ' And your object is — ?' ' A secret at present, Sir John. As for your daughter ' — with sneering emphasis — '/should be the be.^t judge, I think, as to whether or no I am a fit associate for her. Miss Dangerfield appears to be a young lady in eveiy way qualified to take care of herself. And now, dear Sir John, as we thoroughly understand each other, suppose we take breakfast. It is past ten, and lam hungry.' * I never breakfast without Katherine,' the baronet answered, coldly. ' Mrs Harman !' — abruptly — ' they say every man has his price — will you name yours, and leave Scarswood for ever V 1 Now, what an indelicate way of putting it — my $rice !' She laughed. '"Well, yes, Sir John, I don't mind owning as much. I have a price. Do you know' what I said to myself last night when I first entered Scarswood ? I said, "I' wonder if Sir John would marry me if I asked him ?" And, Sir John, I wonder if you would?' ' * Mrs Harman;' the Indian officer answered, with a look of disgust and contempt, ' let U8 keep to the subject in hand, if you please. I 'am in no humour for witticisms this morning.' c Which, translated, means, I suppose, you would not marry me. It's not leapyear, I am aware, and my proposal may be a little out of place. But jusfc think a moment, Sir John — what if the telling of your secret depended on it, and I should really like to be my lady ? — what then ?' ' Mrs Harman, if you say another word of this kind I will turn you out of the hou&e. Am Ito understand, then, it is to tell you have come hither V His voice broke a little, the strong, sinewy hand that' lay upon the broad window-sill, clenched. He bore himself bravely before her, but there Avas mortal fear and mortal anguish in the old soldier's blue eyes. * For God's sake tell me the truth !' he said. • What have you come to do ? I saw you in the conservatory last night alone with my nephew — do you mean to tell him ?' There was an eaay-chair close to, the window ; the widow sank down in its silken cushions — all this time they had been standing — and she" flung back'her little, dainty, ringleted head.

* As this conversation will be prolonged, no doubt, until Miss Dangerfield appears, we may as well take a seat. So you saw me in the conservatory last night with your nephew ! I did not know you did me the honour to watch me, Sir John. Well, yes, 1 was in the conservatory last night with Mr Peter Danger'field.' 1 And you told him all ?' ' ' I cold him — nothing ! My dear old baronet, what an imbecile .you must think me. Why should I tell him ?— a poor little pettifogging attorney. I only drew him out there — read him, you know — and he is very large print, indeed. Woe to the man or woman that stands in his path to fortune ! — better for them they had never been born. He never felt a touch of pity or mercy in his life for any living thing, and never will.' ' I know it !' the baronet said with a groan. • I know it too well. My life has been a life of terror since this inheritance fell to me — fearing him. fearing you. If he had been any other kind of a man than the kind he is, ii — think — I know I, would have braved all consequences and told him the truth, and thrown myself upon his generosity. My life has been one prolonged misery since we came to Scarswood. I knew if you were alive you would hunt me down as you have. It would be better for me I were a beggar on the streets.' Mrs Vavasor listened to this passionate tirade with airiest indifference. 'Then go and be a beggar on the streets,' she responded ; ' nothing is easier. Throw yourself upon your nephew's generosity — tell him that little epi&ode in both our lives that happened in the Paris hospital fifteen years ago — tell him, and see how erenerous, how magnanimous he can be. You saw me talking to him, you say, in the conservatory last night. Would you like to know what we were talking about ? Well — of Katherine !' He stood and looked down at the small mocking face, and the derisive black eyes, gnawing the ends of his grey mustache. '01 Katherine,' Mrs Vavasor said. *He told me he remembered her an infant here — in this very house, that she was two years old when she left England with papa and rnatnma. I asked him if he recalled her looks fifteen years ago, but naturally he did not.' Mrs Vavasor laughed at some inward joke. ' Do you know, Sir John, he is in love with the heiress of Scarswood, and would marry her if she would let him ? He proposed last night — ' ' What !' the bai'onet cried, eagerly ; *he asked Katherine to marry him ? And she — what did she say V ; ' Called him a rickety dwarf— truthful, I but unpleasant — and said no as your highspirited daughter knows how to say it. He's not handsome, and Miss Dangerfield dearly loves beauty. She resembles her mother in many thing3 — in that among the rest. She refused Mr Dangerfield last night — still I think, my dear baronet, I shall have the pleasure of congratulating you upon the accession of a son-in-law.' ' What do you mean ?' ' Excuse me ; our haughty little Katherine might nob thank me for meddling with her affaires dv co&ur. And I wish so much to stand, well with the dear child. So affectionate a daughter can have no secrets from you — she will tell you all about it herself, no doubt, before the day ends. And, Sir John, I can safely promise you this much — I shall leave Scarswood before your daughter's wedding day, to return no more. ' He looked at her in painful, anxious silence. He felt that behind her words a covert .threat lay. ' Before her wedding day. The child is but seventeen and not likely to marry 'for four or five years yet. I don't know what you mean, Harriet. For pity's sake speak plainly — let us understand each other if wo can. I don't want to be hard upon you, Heaven knows. I would pour out money like water to secure my darling's happiness — and you — oh surely ! of all the creatures on earth, you should be the last to harm her. Don't betray me — don't betray her — don't ruin her life. I know I ought to tell ; honour, truth, with all the instincts of my life, urge me to speak, but I know so well what the result would be, and I dare not !' , A, stifled sob shook the old soldier's voice. ' I love her better than ever father loved a child before — better I think than ever, if that were possible, since this new danger threatened. If you keep silence there is nothing to fear. In Heaven's name, Harriet, mention any sum you like, however exorbitant, and leave this house at once and for ever.' She sat and listened, without one touch of pity for the love she could not fathom ; she sat and watched him without one softening glance of the hard eyes. There was an unpleasant tightness about the thin lipa, an almost diabolical malice in her furtive gaze. 'I will take ten thousand pounds, and 1 will leave Scarswood a week preceding Miss Dangerfield's wedding day. The sooner that day is named the better. That is my ultimatum.' ' A week before her wedding day ! Why do you harp on that ? I tell you she has no idea of being married for years — a child of seventeen !' ' And I tell you she has. Children of seventeen in this year of grace have very grown-up notions. Miss Dangerfield had two proposals of marriage last night ; one sho refused, one she accepted. If you have patience, your future son-in-law will be here for his answer before dinner. As Katherine will be on his side, your answer will be" Yes," of course, though be were the veriest blackguard in England. If- that tall slip of a girl told you to swear iblack was white, you would swear it, and half believe you. were not perjuring yourself. You are too old to learn wisdom now, my poor Sir John ; but if you were a younger man, I would try and convince you of the folly of loving, with such blind, dog-like devotion, any creature on this earth. No one alive is worthy of it — least of all a woman. You would die to make her happy ; more, the soul of honour, by training .and instinct, you are yet ready to commit, dishonour for her sake. And she — if you stand between her and this good-look-ing adventurer, only seen for the first time a tew weeks ago, she will set you down for a very tyrant and monster, and run away to Scotland with him the instant he asks her. Oh, yes she will ! I'm a woman, and I know her sex. They're liko cats — stroke them the right way and they'll purr for ever ; stroke them the wrong way, and their sharp claws are into your flesh, though yours the hand that has fed and caressed them all their life. Katherine is no worse than the rest, and when she leaves you and runs away with him, she is only true to her feline nature. I will take ten thousand pounds cash down, one week before the day fixed for Kathie's wedding, and I'll leave Scarswood, and you, and her, for ever — with the secret untold. The sooner that wedding day is fixed, the sooner you are rid of me. And I'll never come back— l'll never ask you for another stiver. Now we understand each other, and we'll get along comfortably, I hope. Don't let us talk any more on this subject, it isn't a pleasant one ; and, Sir John,- do, do try and look a little less like a martyr on tha rack ! Don't wear your heart on your sleeve, for the daws of society to peck at. You know that tiresome story of the Spartan boy • and the fox, or wolf — which

•was it ? The animal gnawed at his vitals, i but he kept his cloak well over it and bore the agony with a smiling face. I think the horrible little brute lays hold of all mankind, sooner or later ; only some suffer and make no sign, and others go through the , world howling aloud over the pain, /have hid my wolf for the la3t nineteen years — you would not think it, would you ? Don't let everybody see you have a secret, in your face, or they may find it out for themselves, if you do. Here comes our little truant at last : and Dieu merci, for lam absolutely famished ]' Clearing the last three steps with a jump, according to custom, all fluttering in crisp white muslin, and lit up with bright ribbons, Katherine came into the room, her happy face sunshiny enough to illuminate all Sussex. ' Late again, papa,' throwing her arms around him after her impetuous fashion and giving him a sounding kiss ; * but last night was an exceptional occasion in one's life ; one was privileged to oversleep one's self this morning. Oh, papa !' with a little fluttering sigh, c what a perfectly delicious party it was !' •My dear,' her father said, in a constrained sorb of voice, c don't ,you see Mrs Vavasor ?' She had not until that moment. In her own happiness #he had forgotten the very , existence of her father's guest. . Her face > clouded ever co slightly now as' she turned " to meet the little woman's gushing greeting. ' Dearest Katherine— oh, I really must call you Katherine — how well/how bright you are looking this morning. Look at that radiant face, Sir John, and tell me would you think this child, had danced twenty-four consecutive times last night 1 and rounted, my pet,' with her tinkling laugh — * danced until broad day this morning. Ah how delightful to be sweet seventeen and able to look like this after a long night's steady waltzing.' She would have kissed her, bub -Katherine's crystal clear eyes detected the" rouge on her lips, and Katherine, who never resisted an impulse in her whole life, ' shrank back palpably. ' What !' Mrs Vavasor exclaimed gayly ; 'you won't kiss me, you proud little English girl ? Never mind, 1. foresee we shall be great friends — don't you think 30, . Sir John ? if only for her mother's sake.' 'My mother's sake !' Katherine repeated. • You know my mother ?' 'Very well, indeed, my, dear — I was her •■ most intimate friend. And you are like 1 her — like her every way — in face, in manner, in voice. I should have been fond , of you in any case, bub since you resemble ■ your mother so strongly, think how I must love you now !' (To be Continued.)