Lady Marjorie's Love

Wairarapa Age, Volume XXV, Issue 10713, 28 March 1913, Page 2

Lady Marjorie's Love

(OUR SERIAL

By Carl Swerdna

Author of "To the Uttermost. Farth ing," "A Mere Ceremony," "A Fight for Honour," Etc.

CHAPTER XIX. (Continued.)

Though between themselves the two elder ladies skirmished with unfailing persevertnce and spirit and varying success, Marjorie, coldly snubbed or ignored by the one and roundly 'rated and scolded by the other, was irritated, miserable —the more so because it had pleased the dowager to pour wrath and scorn upin the subject of Mrs Paget and her proposed sojourn with that lady, gibing-at. it as a ridiculous freak not worth considering. She did not object because she in the least desired the company 'or charge of her granddaughter, but liecause she disliked Mrs Paget as much a«> she disliked nearly everylmdy else, and because she objected on principle to any arrangement whatever into which she had rot contrived to thrust her wrinkled old fingers. Only one passage of arms upon the subject did the girl trv with her terrible old relation, and in it she was beaten utterly, so scared by the harsh, cracked, rasping voice, the fierce, little, glittering e.vce, and the emphatic- thumps of the dowager's ivory-headed stick on the floor, that-she fled in dismay. Plainly, there was nothing for it but J to let her say what she lined and wait for the> arrival of Aunt Eleanor's letter, which would, of course, set the matter at rest, fn the meantime the letter seemed a. long time in coming, and she was very miserable and lonely.

''And. ju.sfc a little lonely, too, perhaps?" "Y-e-e-s : !" ,she stammered, "Thanks for thai!" He spoke a<s if he meant it —very much as if lie meant it. Marjorie i pulled a,way her hand, or he let it <go —she \va« not sure which, having forgotten that he was holding it all this time—and picked up Jack, sitting doAvn on a huge dark old sofa under one of the swinging lamps, holding him in her lap. Barrington ,snt down, too, the sofa being big enough for at least- four more. - "1 "hope the counters is well, Lady Marjorie ?" "She is quiti» well. Weather doesn't affect her." ''.No doubt. When I'left-you were trembling at-the' imminent arrival of the dowager. May I ask if she has appeared?" - "Ofeour.se she has! You might he sure of that!" "And—the fact that you once hmiored me with your confidence on the subject is my apology for the question —may I ask if she is as —well, as alarming as ever?" "Worse! Wait till a-oti s?e her!"

"Oh, if culy Au.nt Eleanor would write!" the said aloud, stopping short in the mid!d!o of the hall from the impetuous rush out if the drawing-room, for it was after dinner that she had dared thus to cross .swords with the redoubtable dowager. "Oh, if she would only answer me! I'll'not stop here a day after J once get her let tea* —no, though it means leaving Castle Marling forever. She is sure not to keep mo waiting—she is too kind and too fond of TO.©. I told' her how dreadful it was here, too, and how wretched I was. I don't care what either of them say, I will go! And, if Loftus doesn't like it—well, I can't help it—it is not my fault. For I won't write to him again—no, T will not —until he first writes to me!" Her cheeks burned, her eyes Hashed. "Oh. it is sha.me-ful-Vshameful —yes, it is cruel! It is almost as if what they both say is true!"

Yes, that was the bitterest, most rankling and galling of all —what they both said. For the dowager, who contradicted and disagreed with her dau-ghter-in-law upon every other subject, had been entirely at one with her in her views respecting Loftus Bligh, and had given vent to her opinions with the most mer-ciless scorn. Marjorie might well let fall her colors and beat a retreat before the wrathful old woman.

I "That promises to he a somewhat disconcei'ting honor. T can but endeavor to support it to the best of. my humble ability. But perhaps I am presuming; in supposing her ladvship to be conscious of nry existence " "What nonsense!" There was very slight humility in his face or in the la.ughter that lurked du his eyes, and, understanding both entirely, she la-u-I ghed roftly, too, having not the least objection to make fun at the dowager. ."Fenella has been telling her all sorts of things about you," she said, with a nod in the direction of the drawingroom. "T dare sav they are talking about you now. She. says it's fine impudence yon must .have to be going off gallivanting whenever you feel like it and leaving your business to take caro of itself!" "The. countess?" "The dowager. Fenella doesn't talk with a. brogue!" "True —and you did deliriously. I apologize to her ladyship —meaning, of course, her younger ladyship." He laughed again, "T am possibly premature, but I'm afraid I shall find residence with a couple of countesses more than a trifle embarrassing." "I don't think ymi would care if they were a couple of duchesses. Yon know you wouldn't."

She crossed over to her favorite window and stood looking absently out, Its heavy old tapestry curtain drawn away and held in her hand. Not tlrat she could see anything, for the dull September day, all mournful and wet and gray had closed in a good couple of hours before. Jack, on the cushion at her side, suddenly sat up erect. • From the outer hall came tho sounds of an a nival. Tho color flushed warm and red into the girl's cheeks again, for she was surprised. "Why," she said aloud, "I didn't know —T do believe — " She finished neither-fragmentary observation'. One of the doors was swung a little back on its binges, and Barrington entered, his hat and coat off already, looking as if he had never been away. 1 ' "Oh," she said, all fluttered and rosy. "I didn't know you were coming back to-day, Mr Barrington!" "Nor T, until this afternoon. But T found that I should do 110 good by staying longer, so T caught the through express to Wynnehorough. How are you " "I am quite well. Wvnneborough Aren't you wet?" "My coat- was a bit damp, nothing worse. I got a fly. Did yon expect, me back before?" "No —not exactly. T —l thought you might be, longer than a week, perhaps—if. the business kept you, I mean." "T should hardly be likely to stay for the pleasure of it. Luckily for me it wn s not necessary." This eoiuld not be s.iid to require a reply, and Marjcrie looked down with.mf. givii'»K one. Her flush ol surI lise was dy'ir. out now, and, although the lit'lit tiiro.vn by the hanging lamp was somewhat flickering and •nicertain, eves were very keen. Tie saw that hers were heavy, and there were marks of tears on the rosy color, and that her little mouth drooped quite piteously. "What has been the matter?'' he asked gently. "Oh, nothing—nothing much ! The —the weather is iso horrid. And Tam not very well, Tthink.' "You don't look so; you are pale. Have you been out much?" "How could 1 ? Tt has .rained all the time!" "Has it? So you have been dull, "then?" "Awfully!—ith emphasis despairingly frank.

"Never having soared to the top of the peerage. T am modestly unable to •range my capabilities in that case." Bp dropped <>■ little -bis jesting tone. •"The same apology must serve me again." he said, "for you were good enough to give me your confidence on this subject, too. May I ask if you have received a replv to your letter to Mrs Paget?" (To be Continued.)