A Double Knot Part 41

It was very delicious, but, all the same, he wished that it was all to come, and that she had been more retiring and reserved.

Still, she loved him. There was no doubt of that, and perceiving that he was dreamy, and strange, and likely to excite notice from his companion, he roused himself from the reverie.

"Well, d.i.c.k," he cried, laughing, "what have you to say now to your story of the patriarchs?"

"Well, I don't know. I suppose it must be all a flam."

"Yes, there's no doubt about that, and you have wasted a sovereign that might have gone in b.u.t.tonholes and gloves."

"Oh, no--not wasted," cried the little fellow. "Decidedly not. Oh, no, my dear boy, my experience teaches me that it is always as well in such matters to have a friend at court."

"I say, young fellow," cried Glen, who had cast off his reserve, and was now making an effort to be merry, "you say, 'in these affairs'! In the name of commonsense, how many love affairs do you happen to have had?"

"Well, really," said the boy importantly, "I don't exactly know.

Somehow or another, I did begin early."

Glen laughed merrily, and went on chatting away; but somehow the thoughts of Marie's reproachful eyes were mingled largely with those of Clotilde's longing, loving gaze, and there were times when he did not know whether he was most happy or most vexed.

Volume 2, Chapter V.

A WALK IN THE GARDENS.

The days glided on, with the younger sisters wondering at the change that had taken place, for everything now seemed to be done with an idea to their comfort.

Mr Montaigne called, according to his custom, pretty frequently, and he was quite affectionate in his ways. He and the Honourable Misses Dymc.o.x had long conversations together, after which he used to go, seeming to bless Clotilde and Marie, he was so paternal and gentle--Ruth obtaining, too, her share of his benevolent smiles.

Then, after a good deal of waiting, came a time when Clotilde met Glen alone. The latter did not know that he had d.i.c.k to thank for the arrangement; but he it was who made the suggestion to Clotilde, by whom the idea was seized at once, and the very next morning she proposed that Marie and she should have a walk in the gardens directly after breakfast.

"My head aches a good deal, aunties, and a walk will do it good."

Miss Philippa looked at her sister, and Miss Isabella returned the look.

"Well, my dears, as it is far too early for anyone to be down from London," said Miss Philippa, "I think you might go, don't you, sister?"

"Yes, decidedly," said Miss Isabella; and the young ladies went up to dress, Markes entering the bedroom as they prepared for their walk.

"But you two ain't going alone?" said the maid.

"Indeed but we are, Markes," retorted Clotilde.

"But not without your aunts?"

"Yes, of course. How absurd you are!"

"Well, things is coming to a pretty pa.s.s! I couldn't have believed it if I'd been told."

She went out, and, according to her custom, slammed the door, but it was not heeded now; and soon after, with the affectionate kisses of their aunts moist upon their cheeks, the two girls strolled along one of the paths in the direction of the Lion Gate.

For a time they were very silent, but at last, after two or three sidelong glances at Marie, Clotilde opened the ball.

"Well, dear," she said, "what do you think of it?"

Marie remained silent.

"For my part," continued Clotilde, "I think it horrible. It's like being sold into a seraglio. I won't have him."

"Then why did you accept that bracelet?" exclaimed Marie sharply.

"Because it was very beautiful, my dear sister; because I only had a wretchedly common _porte bonheur_; and, lastly, because it was of diamonds, and I liked it."

"But it was like telling the man you would have him."

"Then why did you accept that pearl ring Lord Henry sent you, sweet sissy?"

"For the same reason--because I liked it," said Marie bitterly; "but I've hated myself ever since."

"It's a pity they are so old," said Clotilde. "It would be very nice if they were not, for I like the idea of having plenty of good things, and being able to spend as much money as I like. Why, Rie," she exclaimed, "let's have a run through the Maze. We haven't been since we were quite little children."

"Nonsense! absurd!"

"Never mind; let's be absurd for once. There will be no one there so soon as this. I shall go; you can stay away if you like."

With a quiet, disdainful look, Marie followed her sister, and carelessly began with her threading the devious course through the quaint old labyrinth.

"How ridiculous of you, Clo!" she said at last. "There is not a breath of air, and it is growing terribly hot. Come back, there is someone here."

"Very well; come back, then," said Clotilde. "This way, Rie."

"No; that is not the path."

"Yes it is. I'm sure it is; and--oh, how strange! Here are those two."

Marie's cheeks crimsoned as she found that they had come suddenly upon the two officers. That it was a planned thing she was sure; but this was not the time to resent it, and she returned the salutations with which she was greeted, making up her mind that she would keep close to Clotilde the whole time, and prevent a _tete-a-tete_.

But such a determination would have been difficult to carry out in the gardens, when three people were arrayed dead against her. In a maze it was simply impossible; and the guide was not there.

She never knew how or when they were separated, but all at once she and d.i.c.k were on one side of a hedge, and Clotilde and Glen on the other, and when the boy laughingly tried to put matters right, he did it so cleverly that they were soon two hedges separate; then three, and likely to be four; by which time, forgetful of all his scrupulous feelings, and Clotilde's want of perfection in his eyes, Glen had clasped her to his heart with a deep, low "My darling, at last!"

"Oh, no, no, no, Marcus," she sobbed, as she gently thrust him away, and then clung to his arm, gazing piteously up at him the while. "You must not. I ought not to let you. I feel so wicked and despairing I hardly care to live."

"But why, my darling--my beautiful darling?" he whispered pa.s.sionately, contenting himself now with holding her hands.

"Because this is so wrong. My aunts would never forgive me if they knew."

"That is what I want to speak about, dearest," he said, in a low voice, as he drew her arm through his and they walked on. "May I speak to them? Let me call and ask their permission to come freely and openly to the apartments. I am only a poor suitor, Clotilde--only a captain of cavalry, with very little beside his pay; but you will not despise me for that?"

"For what?" she cried innocently, as she gazed up into his face.