Lady Marjorie's Love

Wairarapa Age, Volume XXV, Issue 10713, 24 April 1913, Page 2

Lady Marjorie's Love

(OUR SERf AL

By Carl Swerdna Author of "To th« Utterrcort Farth-ing," "A Mere Ceremony," "A Fight for Honour," Etc.

CHAPTER XXYlll.—Continued!. '.Ju' r>-.'.-t siippieuvMit to the wo.xls was tin- impulsive manner with which Marjorie turned to him and raised her 'lips, all unsolicited, tp his. It was another fine opportunity for the dowager; tlie.v would never have hoard her had she and her stick como down the stairra.se ever so lordly. Jack, tired of utter neglect, yapped impatiently, and pawed at "his mistress' .-kirt without obtaining the faintest notice. Barrington pressed tho girl's head against his shoulder, looking into the shy eyes, which now bashfully met and now bashfully avoided his. "Aren't von a little humbug, madam?" "I? 'Why?" She raised her eyebrow* with a rdirug. "Oh, because I "Kiiid that stuff to you, I suppose? No, of course I'm not! If it was stuff, you knew it was stuff; and, if you knew it was stuff, you didn't take any notice of it; and, if you didn't take any notice of it, you weren't humbugged! So I'm not a humbug!" she concluded triumphantly: "Have it vour own way. But what if I had believed it?" "Ah, vou couldn't, because you knew! Gerard—" "What? You remember my name, then?" luv said quickly. ."Remember it? Of course! Why, it's you! Do vou suppose that all this time I've been thinking of you in five .svllablev? The idea! Mister Bar-riim-tou!" —with elaborate separation. "T\c\v ridiculous! Perhaps when you've seen me you've thought there goes Lady Marjorie Wynne? That's more syllables still!" "Lately I've thought: 'There goes my' sweet little, -spitfire, whom I should like to for five minutes and ki~s for twenty!' What were you going to ask me?" "Was T going to ask you anything? Oh, yes. T was!" She looked down, avoiding his eyes. "■Gerard you weren't really angry with me, were yon? Not very?" "Angry?" He was watching her downcast eyes, the curve of her cheek, and her round, little chin, and at the moment did not catch her meaning. "At what?" "Ah. yon know —that ninning away! t was suoh a litle foal!" — wrathfully. "But I was so miserable, so dreadfully miserable, I didn't care what I did. And, of course, I know it'is a dreadful thing for a girl to do. Now, isn't it?" "Depends upon how far she runs, my sweet, and also m>on who fetches h '■- back again." His hard caressed her cheek. "Angry, littTe goose? What made you think I was angry?" "Oh, T thought you were! I thought you must be —quite disgraceful! You didn't seem to care a bit yesterday when we were talking, and I might have been going away!" She looked at him reproachfully. "And when I came downstairs you looked at mo as if I were anybody, as if I were the countess! How dared you look at me as if I were the counters?" "You had hetter ask how I dared look a.t yon at all. The. dowager had got her eye on me!" "She- always hn« got her eve. on somebody. Than; you weren't angry?' ".Not T! Why should T be? Didn't I tell you I quite understood how it was?" "Ah, that's just it!" .She glanced at him sidelong. "Tluit's just wh»re you made a mistake; you don't understand a bit. nr>t a particle! T was awfully m'.serahle, with the dowager vowing that T-.should go to that horrid Treand, but that wasn't the reason!; that woudn't have made me do it." She suddenly shifted her ground: s he became indignant, instead of supplicatory. 'T don't know, T'm sure, why I should hope that you were not angry. You ought to beg mv pardon hv rights. It was all vour fault." ' ' . "Oh, was it?" He laughed. "How. pray?" "Of cour.se it was!" She looked diOAvn. pouting. "Tf Non-ah is your sjister," shei isaid, "I don't know Avhat she wants to kij?s you for!" "Norah?" he echoed. "Yes, No rah. Perhaps you would like it if you found me' kissing neople outside AvindoAvs and groan-inir that it Avas too late to marry them!" "So that's it!" His memory avmi* quick to travel back, and he understood noAV. He looked doAvn,.smiling into her eyes. "Oh, Marjorie! Oh, 1 ittle goose! Jealous!'' "Well, I don't care!" She pouted tStil.l; she was as rosy as a. poppy. "You Avouldn't like it. And you know you had told me that you hadn't a sister. What was I to think? Particularly when I heard what you both said! Sisters don't generally talk about marrying their brothers! You ought to be thankful that 1 didn't run aAvay to Patagonia. And she had better kiss Loftus. There!" Silence followed this energetic expression of opinion. Marjorie amused herself by turning the signet- ring lie AVore round- and round hi« finger, her comical little air of half-affected petulance dying away into a wistful look of thought. Presenty she spoke without raising her eves. "Gerard?". " ' "Well, love?" "I Avant to knoAv Avhy you should say that? T can't help wondering. Did you and Xorah ever—-ever such a little bit—think of marrving each other?" "Never. But two or three years ago my father AA'ould very much have liked it. I told you how very fond he is of her." "Oh, yes. So that was how it was?" She nodde<] comprehendinglv. "I «ee. And you never fell in

love with her? Really? Not a bit? Nor she AA-rth you?" "Not the least in the Avorld! We had been too fond of each other as brother and sister all our lives for that." "Perhaps that was the reason. But it seems verv funny!" She spools her head doubtfully. "I suppost she really does like Loftus best, though?" ' "I should «a-y she decidedly did! He laughed because it AA-a.s impossible to do anything but laugh. "I suppose she really must!" She heaved a sigh—a sigh'of resignation to this extraordinary lack of taste on the part of Xorah.' "You- Avill be j writing to her. won't you?" "To-nigth ,1 hope, love. Why?" "Because—" She broke off. "Does 'she know anything about me?" 1 "She is perfectly aware of your existence." "You know I don't mean that! I mean— Oh, you do know! Does she?" "She does." "Then 1 want you to give hear my love, and tell her that I am her sister noAv as avoll as her cousin. Will you?" "I will. Is that the dowager cornling?" It certainly was tho dowager; the tip-tap'of her stick along the gallery was not to "be mistaken, and if rustling Avent for anything tho countess was coming, t«o. Marjorie sprang up in a breathless flutter. "Oh, it really is! Can't you hear both of them!* Can't you hear Fenella creaking, 9 Oh, I don't want to tell them yet—presently! They're Ixrth so awfiil! And if they see you they'll know in a minute. They AA-ouildn't if I could lock miserable, but I can't, I don't care a bit what they say. but I want to think first." She pushed him awa.y and offered him the bribe of another- kiss at one and the same time. "Oh, go aAvay, dear! For just a it-tie while. Please, pray do!"' The .stick tapped on the stairs; the skirts rustled; Barrington vanished just (in time.

CHAPTER XXIX.

The Dowager Countess of Marlingford's ears may have not been particularly keen, but her eyes Avere. As .she descended the. stairs ishe cast one glance of suspicious scrutiny round tho hall, and then glared at her granddaughter with a fierceness thatmade Lady Marjorie shake in her shoes. The younger countess, smiling Avith cool sarcasm in the background, wa.-i had enough, but ishe Avas nothing in comparison to the dowager. And. of course, they must know — Marjorie.could have no doubt of that. (She knew that her eyes were as bright as stars, that her cheeks were as rosy a« though each kiss had soAvn a hundred blushes, that her hair was roughened, her ribbons wore rumpled, that her aa-liolo apjxsarance might give rise to inquiries which it would be c-iff.icult to answer. Love and happiness were writ large on her face, plain for any one to see. She trembled and got behind a chair —even that gave her a. sensation of protection, of defence. "Did—did you want me, grandmamma?" she asked; in a trembling voice. "Want ye? -It's Avhat's going on here, miss, that I want to know!" cried the doAvager. tapping her stick. "What lis it. I'd like to be told, that that young jackanapes of a Barrington has had the impudence to be saying to ye?" (To be Continued.)