A Double Knot Part 39

"While you have been in the Maze and got lost," said Glen.

"I tell you they were walking together, and shaking hands in the most affectionate manner."

"While you played the spy, d.i.c.k? I say, my lad, that's not square."

"But it's a horrible sell. My mother was always asking those two to our place."

"With matrimonial intentions?"

"I suppose so. Elbraham never came, but old Moorpark often did, and it was on the cards--"

"Visiting-cards?"

"No. That he was to be my brother-in-law. I say, Glen, who is a fellow to trust?"

"But he was not engaged to your sister?"

"No, of course not. Our Gertrude thought a deal of another fellow; but the mater's word is law, you see, and it might have come off. Good heavens! she will be mad."

"Your sister?"

"Not she--the mother. Well, I'm not going to stand it. My dear fellow, we are being cut out."

"Nonsense, my dear boy; those two are old enough to be their grandfathers."

"But they are rich--at least, Elbraham is rolling in wealth."

"Then Lord Henry was getting the Jew to do a bill."

"You seem as if nothing would move you, Glen; I tell you I am sure they have been to propose to those girls."

"And if they had, what then?"

"I should go mad."

"Nonsense! you'd go and fall in love with someone else."

"I? with another!" cried the little fellow tragically. "I tell you I never knew what it was to love till now I can't bear it, Glen; pray get up, and come and see."

"Nonsense, man, nonsense! We couldn't call. Wait till to-morrow, and we shall meet them in the grounds."

"You'll drive me mad with your coolness. You can't care for her. Oh, Glen, 'pon my soul, it's too bad! I loved Clotilde almost to distraction, but seeing how you seemed to be taken with her, I gave her up to the man I looked upon more as brother than friend, and devoted myself to Marie. If I had known, though, I should have taken up very different ground."

Glen had felt troubled at his little companion's remarks, and he had begun to think seriously of the possibility of what he had announced being true; but the tragic manner in which he had spoken of the transfer of his affections in obedience to his friends.h.i.+p was more than Glen could bear, and he burst out into such a hearty fit of laughter that little Richard faced round, and marched pompously and indignantly out of the room.

No sooner had he gone than Glen began to think, and very seriously now.

Somehow he seemed to have been stirred by Clotilde from the depths of his ordinary calm life; he did not know that he loved her, but the thought of her dark, pa.s.sionate eyes had such an effect upon him that he got up and began to pace the room. Never had woman so moved him from his apathy before; and the more he thought of her simplicity and daring combined, the more he told himself that this woman was his fate.

It was plain enough to him, with his knowledge of the world, that he was the first who had ever intruded upon her maiden repose. He knew that she had led an almost conventual life, and that her young heart seemed, as it were, to leap to meet him, so that what would have appeared brazen effrontery in a girl of several seasons, was in her but the natural act of her newly-awakened love.

"I can't help it," he exclaimed at last; "she is not the sort of girl that I thought I should have chosen to call wife; but she is all that is innocent and pa.s.sionate, and, well, I feel sure she loves me, and if she does--"

He stopped short for a few moments, thinking:

"We shall be as poor as the proverbial church mouse; but what does that matter, so long as a man finds a wealth of love?"

He continued his two or three strides backwards and forwards, and then threw himself down in his seat.

"The girl's a syren," he exclaimed, "and she has bewitched me. Hang me if I ever thought I could feel such a fool!"

Glen's folly, as he considered it, increased in intensity like a fever.

For years past he had trifled with the complaint--rather laughed at it, in fact; but now he had it badly, and, with the customary unreason of men in his condition, he saw nothing but perfection in the lady who had made his pulses throb.

Certainly, as far as appearance went, he was right, for nature could have done no more to make her attractive. To what art had made her he was perfectly blind, and, intoxicated by his new delight, he began to think of how he should contrive to see her again.

Glen's mind went faster than his body, which, in spite of energetic promptings, refused to do more than go on in a stolidly calm, well-disciplined way, and the utmost it would accord, when urged by pa.s.sion to go and loiter about the Palace gardens or the private apartments in the hope of seeing Clotilde, was a stroll slowly towards Hampton.

"I'm not going to behave like a foolish boy," he said to himself. "I've tumbled head over ears in love with her, and if I can read a woman's face she is not indifferent to me. Till I have a chance to say so I must wait patiently in a sensible way. It would be pleasant, though, to walk as far as Lady Littletown's and make a call. The old lady might, perhaps, talk about her, and I should hear a little more."

He started with the idea of walking straight to Hampton, but he met Major Malpas, who detained him some little time. Then he encountered Maberley, the surgeon, and had to hear an account about one of the corporals who had been kicked by a vicious horse.

The consequence was that he did not get to Lady Littletown's on that day, while the next was pretty well taken up with a march out and other military duties; but free at last, he hurriedly got rid of his uniform, and once more set off to walk to Hampton.

He had hardly seen d.i.c.k Millet since he left his quarters in dudgeon.

They had met at the mess dinner, and also during the march out, but the little fellow had held himself aloof, and seemed hurt and annoyed.

"I must have a talk with Master d.i.c.k," said Glen to himself, as he walked on. "He's a good little fellow at heart, and I don't like to hurt his feelings."

He had hardly formed the thought when he heard rapid steps behind, and directly after his name was uttered.

Turning round, there was the boy coming on at as nearly a run as his dignity would allow.

"I say, old fellow, how fast you do walk! Either your legs are precious long or mine are precious short."

"Little of both, perhaps. Take the happy medium, d.i.c.k."

"Ah, that's better," exclaimed the boy, whose face was now bright and beaming. "I do hate to see you in one of those sulky, ill-humoured fits of yours."

"Yes, they are objectionable; but where are you going?"

"Going? I was coming after you. I say, I've made it right."

"Made what right?"

"Why, _that_. I hung about till I saw the Dymc.o.xes' maid, a regular old griffin; and when I spoke to her she looked as if she would have snapped off my head. Couldn't make anything of her, but I've secured the footman."

"Under military arrest?"