The Master of the Ceremonies Part 71

"Sorry!" she cried angrily. "Oh, why am I such a mad fool? Why did I betray myself like this?"

"Hus.h.!.+" he said softly, as he held her hand between both of his; "listen to me. Do you think I have not seen for long enough that you are beautiful, and that--"

"How dare you?" she cried fiercely. "It is not true."

"You must hear me," he said; "and forgive my awkwardness for speaking as I do. You know my story so well: have I not always been steadfast to that love?"

She sobbed violently and tried to s.n.a.t.c.h away her hand, but he held it firmly.

"I have always tried to be to you as a friend. Heaven knows I would not have wounded you like this."

"Yes," she sobbed bitterly, "Heaven knows."

"Why did you stab me with those cruel words?" he cried resentfully.

"I don't know," she wailed. "I was mad. It makes me mad to see you go on wors.h.i.+pping her as you do. Does she make you love and hate her too, as she does me?"

"Hush--hus.h.!.+" he said quickly. "I want to like and respect you, Cora Dean."

"Like! Respect!" she cried, with a flash of her former rage. "Why have I degraded myself like this?"

"Do you not trust me?" he said gently, as he looked in her eyes. "Do you think I should be such a despicable coward as ever to whisper word of this to a soul? Come," he said, with a frank smile, "we have both been unfortunate. Let us be friends."

"Friends?" she cried. "No; a woman never forgives a slight like this.

Do you think I could?"

"Yes," he said, after a few moments' pause. "You hate me, and are bitter against me now; but when you have grown calm you will respect me, I am sure. Cora," he cried, with an outburst as excited as her own, "there is no such thing as love or truth on earth. I--Bah! What am I saying?" he cried, checking himself. "Come, we are friends. Let me help you to your place again."

He offered his hand once more, but she struck it aside, and went to the ponies' heads while he tried to forestall her, but had to catch at the side of the chaise to save himself a fall.

Her anger was gone on the instant as she saw his face contract with pain, and in a moment she was by his side.

"It is my turn to triumph," she said in a deep, low tone. "Richard Linnell, you must trust to the woman you despise I shall have to drive you home."

He tried to master the pain, but he could not; and, with a deprecating smile, he had to confess his weakness, and accept a seat back to Saltinville, for it was impossible to walk.

It was a triumph, Cora Dean saw, as she sat up proud and stately beside him; and she felt her heart glow as they reached the town, and scores of promenaders noted him seated by her side; but it was not a pleasant drive home, all the same.

Volume Two, Chapter XXII.

LINNELL CHANGES HIS MIND.

"Getting cured then, d.i.c.k?" said Colonel Mellersh grimly, as Richard limped into the room after finding a note in his own place, which his father said had been brought by a boy.

"Cured? Look, I am quite lame. One of Miss Dean's ponies kicked me; but it will only be a bruise."

"Humph! How convenient!" said the Colonel, with a grim look.

"Don't laugh at me," said Linnell quickly. "I could not help myself."

"That's what we all say when we fall victims to fascination."

"Mellersh, pray stop this banter. You refused Mrs Pontardent's invitation for yourself and me?"

"I did."

"I want you to ask her pardon, and get the invitations for us. I must get there to-night."

"Because Miss Cora Dean, your beautiful charioteer, will be there?"

"No!" fiercely.

"Why, then, most impressionable youth?"

"Because--must I tell you?"

"Yes, if you wish me to act," said the Colonel sternly.

"Because Claire Denville will be there."

"Good heavens! that old fop is never going to take that girl?"

"He is."

"Pooh! What am I saying?" cried the Colonel, half laughingly. "Well, what of it? Why do you want to go?"

"Look."

Linnell held out the note he had found in his room, and Mellersh read it.

"Rockley--post-horses--for the London Road. Who sent this, d.i.c.k?"

"I don't know."

"It may be a trick."

"Who would trick me like that? And what for?"

Mellersh remained silent for a few minutes, and then he said gravely:

"Well, d.i.c.k, suppose it is so. Surely you are going to awake from this madness now?"

"What do you mean?"

"What does this letter mean? It is plain enough. Constant sapping has carried the fortress, and the lady has consented."

"Don't talk like that, Mellersh. For heaven's sake, don't take that cynical tone."

"Why not, madman? I have heard tell that women often say no when they mean yes. A lady we know must have meant yes. Hang it, boy, what more proof do you want that the woman is unworthy of your love?"