Lady Marjorie's Love

Wairarapa Age, Volume XXV, Issue 10713, 21 February 1913, Page 3

Lady Marjorie's Love

(OIR St R'AL

By Carl Swerdna Author of "To th 9 Uttermost Fartb, ing," "A Mere Ceremony," "A Fight for Honour," Etc.

CHAPTER IX. (Continued.) "I four you are mistaken. For one tiling, I may never make Mr Chadhurn'.s acquaintance- at all." Marjcrio stiffened again, and the "«t naenuit, in her inconsistent iittlo. \v:iy, relented again. After all, it iviis iu-a a little treasonable 't-> Miub him, Ijeeause lie se?med to admire the rosyfaced old gentleman W iio had prc-.um-ed ta accost Jier \vith such an absurd i.imilianty arid fajthtrlintv-s that day in tho ]>ark —t'jio day when she had been -so utterly ignorant ami unconscious of all the misery and 1 uin which wore 'loo.ming over her head. But he had known, :\nd it was poss- ; i'j-c: teat in his way he had meant to he kind. "As Mr ( hadbum's visit is to be postponed it is probable that I .shall have left the castle before he come- to it," >ho added. She tried to be stocial an<l to speak indifferently, but her voice trembled. If lie saw the half suppressed emotion, as ho probably did, for his bright keen eyes did not miss the meaning of much time passed within their ken, he gnvo no sign. But he did not look astonished, ciisecnee; ted, and he spoke impulsively. '" I "Left the castle?" he echoed. "I ha,ve thought-—-.pray pardon me. Lady Marjorie.-—that your time for doing that rested with Lady Marlingi'ord. 1 have imagined—pardon me again — that your plans depended entirely upon hers, that as long as she remained at tne castle you would do so, too." "In a general way they do so." j She tried to speak'coldly, haughtily, but she faltered, for she thought with a, res.e:n;ful pang of the one upon whom they -should have depended, her lover, who stretched cut no hand to claim and shield her. "It is quite possible that I may leave before she is ready to do so." She paused a moment, for the next words were cruelly hard to say; and but for the tight clenching together of her hands in her lap they might never have come clearly out at all. "You must surely understand, Mi- Barrington, that it is not too pleasant to me to remain here on'tne—-tho sufference of Mr Chadburn." "SufTerence?" He was silent long enough and expressively enough- for her cheeks to grow scarlet. "Do you really think that is quite the right word to use, Lady Marjorie?" She made a gesture of impatience, partly because she knew it was not the right word to use, but far more because she was indignant. His tone had been remonstratory, Ins look reproachful. Would he take a leaf out of the countess' book and proceed to lecture her next? He looked quite capable of it ; in the way of audacity she believed he was capable of anything. She registered an inward vownever to talk to him again—no, not if Jack was reduced to one instead of three! "You cannot believe it, I think," Barrington. resumed quietly. "Let me assure you, if voir need the assurance, that you are entirely, totally mistaken in the view you take, If you knew Mr Chadburn you would not have fallen into the error. Your remaining here, his honored guest, has been a source of the truest pleasure to him." He paused a moment. "Forgive me if 1 speak rather strongly, and I emphatically fee] so on any subject that is connected with the best man and the truest gentleman I know." He made a movement- to rise; Marjorie made a quicker one which stopped him. She did not want him to go away hurt and offended, and it seemed that he was certainly the first; his voice had shown it. To her own surprise there was a smarting sting of tears in her eyes as she checked him —she was suddenly so angry with herself. "Don't go!" she said impulsively, j"I should not have said that. I -know Mr Chadburn has been very kind. I —rl didn't mean to offend you, MrBar rincton." ji "There's no offense, Lady Marjorie —not the very least in the world!" - He spoke warmly, heartily; somehow he -had got hold cf her hand, : which she did not at all know whether fshe had offered him or not. At any rate, she pulled it away. And, instead of rising on her side as he had expected ber to do, she settled herself hack in the corner of the sofa agaiii . She did not look milch more than a child in her black frock. There was a couple of clove carnations stuck into the waistband and .she took them out and began to pull them to pieces petal by petal. "I—l say all sorts of things of random things sometimes,you know," she said, with a rather uncertain little laugh, uncomfortably conscious that he must have seen her eyes ewinkle just now. "Fenella —the countess — will tell you that. She is rather hard on my weaknesses because she hasn't got any herself." She stopped and gave him a pleading look. "You — you won't tell Mr Chadburn I .said that particular thing, will you?" "Why not? -Mr" Chadburn would bo pleased to know that you think him kind." "Oh, that!" The smile she gave I him was very pretty. "I—l suppose you have known him many years, Mr Barrington?" "Since Iwas a boy."

she wanted to ask. "Have you —always been with him. then?" "Always—that is," he said, explaining, "'.•inc'' 1 was quite a young-ver, you knoiv." "Since you wore old enough to d": anything,'' said Marjorie, with a nod of comprehension. "That's what 1 mean. And that, of course, explains ■why you think so highly of him. Is ho as kind to all his employees, i ■wonder, as he is to you?" "Ho is kind to every one. hut," Barrington .said with a smile, "I would bo very ungrateful if I did not confess that I know 1 am rather a favorite." "Perhaps he is as fond of you a-s yen are of him?" -Marjorie suggested musingly. "I'm afraid he has a better opinion of mo than T deserve, Lady Marjorie." "Oh! Because he has known you so long?" "Well, that may bo the reason. Very possibly it is." We're all liable to prejudices, you know." "Are we?" For reasons of her own she did not wish to pursue that question. She stroked Jack's sleek head as he sprang upon her knee. "What is his son like?" she asked suddenly. "Eh?" He had been looking at her with a. lurking smile of amusement and humor in his eyes which he had net let her see; now he stared, momentarily startled out of his good manners, as his blunt ejaculation showed. "I beg your pardon. I did not quite catch " "His son?" Marjorie's eyes opened in wonder. "Mr Chadburn's. you know. He has a son, has he not?" "A son? Mr Chadburn? Oh—er—ves! H Q has a son, certainly." "I felt sure that Mr Petherick told me so. What is he like?" "Like? Well—er—er" He stammered and looked from her puestioning eyes to the banners over her head. ".Really, Lady Marjorie, I'm afraid I'm a desperately bad hand at description, you know. Like? Like? Why —er —l suppose I must say that he's pretty much like other people." "Oh!" Marjorie's red upper lip gave a little disdainful twitch. "I see —that sort of person." "Yes —that sort of person." I "You are not very explicit, are you?" she holf laugghed. "I hope I shan't offend you again, Mr Barring- I ton, if I say that I never can bear ' people who have nothing particular about them and can't be described. Seriously, they must be awfully stupid and uninteresting, you know. Now don't you agree with me? But, of course, you do —you must. So Mr Chadburn's son is like that. But it's often the way, isn't it, with those rich people who have made a lot of. money? Do you like him—the son?"

"Oh, so long as that!" She reflected, curious now that she had really allowed herself to relax, but scarcely knowing how to shape the question