Lady Marjorie's Love

Wairarapa Age, Volume XXV, Issue 10713, 23 April 1913, Page 2

Lady Marjorie's Love

(OUR SERIAL

By Carl Swerdna Author of "To tho Uttermost Farthing," "A Mere Ceremony,'' "A Fight for Honour," Etc.

CHAPTER XX VIII —Continued. Marjurie's head went down among the folds of the curtain again; she clung to it, sobbing. Making a movement to advance toiler, Barrington checked himself and stood still. "Marjorie!" he said gently. He got no answer, so tried again. "Marjorie!" "Yet!" She clutched the curtain. "Come here! Come hero to me, dear!" "No!" She half glanced over her shoulder and grasped the curtain desperately tight. "No, I won't!" "Won't you? I think yoai will! Come, darling!" He was near enough to touch her, hut ho did not; he waited. There is nothing sympathetic about a curtain; as something to cling to, it is unreliable, being apt to give way unexpectedly, and as. a handkerchief it is distinctly scrubby—a dismal failure altogether; regarded as a support .and consolation', he looked as if he might bo an immense improvement upon it. How Marjorie got herself away from it and into his arms does not matter —she managed the transfer somehow. As little does it matter wliht he whispered into the ear which was all her iresoluely buried face let him see—sneh things are seldom worth recording. Regarded as a \ specimen of sensible solace offered in distressing circumstances, it was merely ridiculous; from an intellectual point of view it was beneath contempt, ranging indeed dangerously near to imbecility; but it was effective for all that, and triumphantly established his complete superiority to tho curtain in the character of consoler: Marjorie's sobs weakened and dwindled ajvay into a long-drawn sigh —'it might have been of resignation, hut it sounded remarkably like contentment.

"That's better!" :he said tenderly. "I don't want her to spoil lier sweet eyes, and I know she'll cry them out of her silly little head if she gets the chance! And what a fuss about nothing she is making, too! Nobody wants her —doesn't know what she shall do —doesn't know where she can go! Little goose, what's the matter with this?" There did not appear to lie anything the matter with it; she only nestled closer with an inarticulato purring murmur which was as fond and absurd a little sound ais well could be. As they sat on the cushioned window seat she was just high enough to rug the top of her curly head against his neck, and she djfl it to a, distracting extent. He laughed and kissed the scarlet little ear as ho whispered into it: "What a pity it is that you really can't possibly marry me, Marjorie, isn't it?" "Yes—yes!"—in a woeful little whimper. "So it is. Because it really seems as though we might have been happy together and rather fond of each other, doesn't it?" "Don't!" "Don't! Why not? You may shut the gates of my paradise you unfeeling little creature, but you shan't prevent me peeping through the hairs. I say it is really a thousand pities, for more reasons than one. For instance instead of crying all by yourself there over that letter that I haven't yet caught a glimpse of" — she instantly felt for his pocket and stuffed the letter in—"we should have laughed over it together, and told Mrs Paget that she need not trouble herself. Y T es, it's greatly to be regretted. If it were not so utterly preposterous' and presumptuous, such an obvious absurdity, such an outrageous liberty altogether, I might venture to ask you again! Being what it is, of course, I don't dare do anything of the kind. Therefore, it's quite understood that T'm simply administering consolation, and there's nothing in the least degree compromising in your present position if the dowager should chance to peep over the balustrades." "I dare say she will. She's always poking; her nose where it isn't wanted!" "It's highly probable. May the explanation satisfy her,! To revert to your difficulties, there's no denying that the situation is awkward. Mrs Paget declines you, the countess doesn't want you, the dowager scares you, and you me have you! Poor little girl, what a quandary you are in!" "It's of no use your talking nonsense" —she gave herself as effective a shrug and toss as circumstances admitted —"because I don't care a bit! And I'm not paying a scrap of attention. And I'm not in a. quandary —there!" A sob and a laugh mingled in her voice; she •raided herself to whisper as she clung to him, "Ah, you kn owl' m not! You' re inaq u an - dary when you don't know what you are going to do —I do know. And if the countess would have me I would not go with her, and if Aunt Paget would have me I wouldn't go to her, and if the dowager had dragged mo away to Ireland my heart would just have, bled to death! It would!" "Would it, my sweetheart? What a loving little heart it is! Tt would not have made much difference, would .it, if Mrs Paget had said 'Yes' ? And what a little goose she was to think she would even say anything but 'No'! She was likely to want you, pretty little soft-eyed thing, teside those' two long and lanky-daughters of hers! Didn't I tell you when you wrote your letter that there was no doubt at all of the sort of answer you would get? Did you want to wreck your cousin's matrimonial prospects forever?" He laughed and kissed the hair that snuggled upon his shoulder, a shining, tumbled russet mop. "Aren't you going to look at me, Mar-

jorie? Presently I shall have to say J that you were rather pretty when 1 '. saw vou last." | "No!" She resisted the touch of his hand under her chin. "I'm a guy —l've been crying! You shan't see me when I'm a guy!" "Are you? Lot mo see." He j turned to the light such a happy, glowing little rose,of a fa.ee as not even swollen eyelids and tear-stained cheeks could make anything hut lovely. "How do you look when you are pretty, my sweet, if you are ugly now ?'' The dowager could not have chosen a more eligiblo moment for peering I over the balustrade than now, as Marjorie trembled, all aglow and quivering, beneath the passion of his first I kiss, upon her lips. Was it one or a I hundred ? She shut her eyes and did | not know. A thrill of wonder and i pity shot through her —of wonder at ; her past self, at the girl who had never eyen dreamed of what love real:ly was or meant, while ignorantly supposing that she knew —of pity for Norah. But of course, it might he that Loftus did kiss Norah like that? It was possible, at least. She gave a little gasp, looking up into her lover's eyes. ' "Oh,, I wonder," she said breathlessly—"l wonder of —" "You wonder 0 You wonder what?" . "How I could ever have thought that I— Oh, you know!" He certainly should have known; her tone and gesture were as eloquent as any mere bald, verbal conclusion could have been. He smiled, bending down to the red lips that had yielded, but given back nothing as yei. "■Give me a kiss, darling, won't yon?" he whispered coaxing!y. "I?" From her tone such a transaction might have been utterly unknown in her experience. "Oh. no, that I'm sure I wonlt!" she said decisively. "Won't? You are very fond of 'won't'! You wouldn't come to me, just now. would you? If you. don't you shall go back and cry in that stuffy curtain there!" The threat was efficacious, for the curtain was naturally less satisfactory than before, and, with her cheek touching his, nothing could be easier than the kiss. "Marjorie gave it. rosier than ever. He laughed, resisting her effort to hide her face again. "Little witch, I've a good mind not to let you off under a dozen! Howmany, I wonder, used you to give to somebody else?" "Somebody else?" Her eyes opened wide in a wondering stare. "Loftus, do you mean? Why, none at all! He never asked me, and"*-\vith a tone of indignant repudiation —"I never thought of such a thing!" "I'm much obliged to him for being a greater fool than I took him for!" Her injured expression was irresistible, and he burst out laughing. "Marjorie you are the most delightful little goose in the world 1 Never thought of such a thing! Perhaps you will tell me next that he never kissed you?" "Oh, in a, sort of a way!" —contehptuously and with .her favourite disdainful "twitch of the upper lip. "What should he want to kiss me for? He was in love with Norah. but he used to kiss me in a way." She brushed her lips lightly against his sleeve. "Like-that!" she said. (To be Continued.)