Lady Marjorie's Love

Wairarapa Age, Volume XXV, Issue 10713, 26 April 1913, Page 2

Lady Marjorie's Love

(OUR SERIAL

By Carl Swerdna Author of "To tho Utt&rmort F*rthing," "A Mare Ceremony,'-' "A Fight for Bono ur," Eto.

CHAPTER XXlX.—Continued

I "Approval!'' shrieked the dowager shrilly. The words set her paralysed tongue free; she quivered, her stick boat a sharp little tattoo of rage upon the floor. "Approval of seeing the last of the Wynnes, me dead-and-goue son's daughter, marrying in the gutter, with niver a sixpence between her head and tho sky! And consent, ye say? It's little enough consent to it ye'll ever get from me, and it's a mad littlo lovesick fool >she is ever to be thinking of it, and so I've told her! And, for ye, I'd like to know who ye are, young man, that ye dare to go making love to her? Faith, and it's impudence enough for a dozen ye must have even to be thinking of a Wynne I" "I'm happy that your ladyship does not find me deficient in so invaluable a quality!" The dowager's tirade .might have been a series of compliments far all the effect that it had. His smile of amusement only broadened a little as he looked down into Marjorei's half soared, half laughing face, and tightened the clasp of his arm about her. "I naturally regret to have incurred your ladyship's disapproval," he said coolly, "but, with regard to your consent, may I, with all possible respect, venture to remind you that Lady Marjorie is of age, and, therefore, legally able to choose for herself? That she has chosen mo argues, I hope, not .so much my impudence as my good fortune." His smile broadened still more as he laughingly mot Marjorie's eyes. "And perhaps I may also be allowed to suggest that she deserve more credit than you are inclined to accord her, since it is only doing her simple justice,to say that when If first, asked ,her to be my wife, she refused mo with all possible scorn and indignation, and was fully as angry as j your ladyship. To-day, lam happy j to say, silie wa.s not so strong-mind-ed. At the same time, lam not unreasonable. I am- perfectly willing to j release her—if she wishes it." i "Oh!" Marjorie gasped. There) were horror, .reproach, sea-red incre- j dulity in her face. j He laughed, and kissed the hand that was clinging to his. , j "If von wish it, my darling! A t safe offer, surely! There's only one thing I can conceive less likely to hap. pen, and that is that I should wish to be released from you." He looked at the dowager again. "May I hope j that in that respect your ladyship is satisfied?" I He got no answer; the dowager was beaten, and she knew it. She . w->'; far too skilled a veteran to strike a blow for a battle that was hopelessly lost, and she was choking j with impotent rage besides. liady j Marjorie might have found' her pretty ears tingling could her grandmother I have worked her will; what might j have happened to her lover is perhaps s better left to the imagination. The hard and resolute old woman was con- * quered, routed uterly. She turned I without a word and went limping j quickly across the hall, her stick strik- I ing fierce little taps on the .floor as | She went. , f • 'Countess Fenella, quietly observant j all this time, handsome and impassive j broke the silence before Barrington j could speak, smiling still her icy, l placid smile, half satirical', half con- j temptuous. She was,pleased ;it was j a good tiling—really the best that could have happened for her step- j daughter's sake; she had a sense of unwillingly lyome, half-repudiated responsibility removed, and in this utter overthrow of &nd discomfiture of the dowager there was distinct, satisfaction. But how infatuated the man wa.s, she thought scornfully. What could he nossibly see in ,that little foolish, childish, blushing creature ? His falling in love witJi "Marjorie was the least sensible tiling she had ever known him to do. It was a good thing and >a relief, but she had scarcely patience with it or with him. "You are aware that I do not share the dowager's peculiar prejudices, Mr Barrington," she said. "Even did T entertain anything of the kind, the circumstances of the case would, I trust, quite alter them at present. You must allow me to offer you my best congratulations and good wishes. Marjorie, my dear, I include you, of course." ' j "You are very good, Lady Mar- i lingford—pray accept ray thanks! I am happy to think that my presump- I tion has not brought me under your ' displeasure. "Presumption?" The countess raised her fine eyebrows, and laughed a faint, indolent laugh. "Oh, surely you do not use .so entirely inappro- , priate a word! So far from thin 1 "'" you presuming, I assure you that, recollecting hei- portionless and peculiar condition, I think my stopdaughter a very fortunate girl. Remembering how utterly helpless a woman is who possesses neither money j nor speciall ability, T consider that she should, be extremely grateful to you—l do, indeed !" "Grateful?" Echoing the word and seeing bow Marjorie flushed indignantly, Barrington reddened almost as. deeply. But he lost neither self-possession nor temper. "I beg your pardon, I fear I don't agree with you, Lady Marling ford!" he s aid quietly. "There is gratitude in the case, I admit, but it is on my side." He lifted Marporie's hand and kissed it. "When a man lia.s had bestowed upon him the greatest treasure that life can offer lie naturally is thankful for his good fortune and happiness, as I am now, I assure you!" "Oh, you take that view!" The countess, slightly laughing again and Hfting her long tram to move away, •spoke languidly over her shoulder. "You are very chivalrous, I'm sure,'' she said. "I hope Marjorie appro-<

dates it. Marjorie, child, Lam glad you decided to be sensible. You could not have possibly done a hotter thing for yourself. But, of course you don't need me to tell you that." The countess rustled >away and disappeared in the wake of the dowager. Marjorie, scarlet and angry still, might have burst into wrathful speech hut for the comically expressive look with which her lover was regarding her. Then she laughed as he laughed and reddened in a different fashion under his kiss. "Aren't they awful?" she whispered pathetically. "Now, aren't they?" "They're a lively pair!" He laughed again. "Yes, they're a caution, those two, by Jove they are!" He drew her rueful, little, protesting face to his shoulder tenderly. "My poor little girl, what would you have done j in, Ireland?" "Nothing, except run away from it. You would have come down one morning and found me on the doorstep!" She laughed, and then grew serious; she was twisting one of his coat buttons, and very intent upon it. '■'Gerard, I've been thinking—" She stopped for no obvious reason. He prompted her. "Yes? You've been thinking what?" "I don't mean just this minute — I've been thinking it all the time. That is—ever since—ever since—" The button received a vehement tug, and she stopped again. "Ever since what?" "Ever since you made me come out of the curtain!" "Oh!" o laughed. "What, pray? Tha.t you had only been strong-mind-ed enough to stop in it?" "Don't be ridiculous! This is serious.a and you've got to be serious, too!" She abandoned the button, and lifted his hand to her cheek. "It's awfully awkward —it is really! I don't know where to go!" "To go ?" he echoed, ''What again, already?" "I tell, you tins is serious! Don't laugh! I mean to-morrow. They will go then. And. of course, I can't stay here. T couldn't if Mr Chadburn were not coming. It's quite impossible! I must stay somewhere, and I don't know where. It sounds very absurd, but I declare T can only think of one person who will take me, perhaps until —" This seemed another stumbling block, and she stopped at it. "Until what?" "Until you do! There! You know what T menu well enough! Yes. I can only think of one person, and that's Mr Peathar/ck." "Petherick!" "Yes. You know how nice he is, and Mrs Petherick is a dear, she can't bear the countess. They would like to have me, I think. I thought we might go into Upton Wafers present- J ly and toll them all about everything, and ask them—shall we?" ! "Well, I don't think we will, darling!" He looked dovm into her eyes as she looked up into his. and was as gay as she was grave! "Wait till ton' Tut. Marjorie, will vou —only till tonight?" "Of course I will —if you like! But why till to-night?" "Ask me to-night. Then I'll tell you." (To be Continued.)