Tony Butler Part 40

"How do you mean nothing to be done?"

"I mean, that as Maitland has not consulted me, I have no pretence to know anything about it."

"But if you do know it, and if I tell it to you?"

"All that would not amount to such knowledge as I could avail myself of.

Maitland is not a man with whom any one can take liberties, Alice."

"What?" said she, haughtily, and as though she had but partly heard his speech.

"I said that no man takes liberties with Maitland."

A very insolent laugh from Alice was the answer.

"Come, come," cried Mark, angrily. "All these scornful airs are not in keeping with what you yourself wrote about Maitland to Bella just two days ago."

"And had Bella--did she show you my letters?"

"I don't believe she intended me to see the turned-down bit at the end; but I did see it, and I read a very smart sketch of Norman Maitland, but not done by an unfriendly hand."

"It's not too late to revoke my opinion," said she, pa.s.sionately. "But this is all quite beside what I'm thinking of. Will you go down and see Mr. Maitland?"

"He's in bed and asleep an hour ago."

"He is not. I can see the light on the gravel from his windows; and if he were asleep, he could be awakened, I suppose."

"I have not the slightest pretext to intrude upon him, Alice."

"What nonsense all this is! Who is he,--what is he, that he must be treated with all this deference?"

"It 's somewhat too late in the day to ask who and what the man is of whom every society in Europe contests the possession."

"My dear Mark, be reasonable. What have we to do just now with all the courtly flatteries that have been extended to your distinguished friend, or the thousand and one princesses he might have married? What I want is that he should n't, first of all, make a great scandal; and secondly, shoot a very worthy old neighbor, whose worst sin is being very tiresome."

"And what I want is, first, that Maitland should n't carry away from this county such an impression that he'd never endure the thought of revisiting it; and secondly, I want to go to bed, and so good-night."

"Mark, one word,--only one," cried she; but he was gone. The bang of a heavy door resounded, and then a deep silence showed she was alone.

Maitland watched her as she paced the terrace from end to end with impatient steps. There was a secret pleasure in his heart as he marked all the agitation that moved her, and thought what a share he himself had in it all. At last she withdrew within the room, but the opening and shutting of a door followed, and he surmised that she had pa.s.sed out.

While he was disputing with himself whether she might have followed Mark to his room, he heard a footstep on the gravel, and saw that she was standing and tapping with her finger on the window of his chamber.

Maitland hurried eagerly back. "Is it possible that I see you here, Mrs.

Trafford," cried he, "at this hour?"

She started, and for a moment seemed too much overcome to answer, when she said: "You may believe that it is no light cause brings me; and even now I tremble at what I am doing: but I have begun and I 'll go on. Let us walk this way, for I want to speak with you."

"Will you take my arm?" said Maitland, but without anything of gallantry in his tone.

"No,--yes, I will," said she, hurriedly; and now for some paces they moved along side by side in silence.

"Mr. Maitland," said she at last, "a silly speech I made to-day at dinner has led to a most serious result, and Commodore Graham and you have quarrelled."

"Forgive me if I interrupt you. Nothing that fell from you has occasioned any rupture between Commodore Graham and myself; for that I can pledge you my word of honor."

"But you have quarrelled. Don't deny it."

"We had a very stupid discussion, and a difference; and I believe, if the Commodore would have vouchsafed me a patient hearing, he would have seen that he had really nothing to complain of on my part. I am quite ready to make the same explanation to any friend he will depute to receive it."

"It was, however, what I said about your driving over with Miss Rebecca Graham to the Burnside that led to all this."

"Nothing of the kind, I a.s.sure you."

"Well, I don't care for the reason," said she, impatiently; "but you have had a quarrel, and are about to settle it by a duel. I have no doubt," continued she, more rapidly, "that you, Mr. Maitland, can treat this sort of thing very lightly. I suppose it is part of your code as man of the world to do so; but this old man is a father; his life, however little you may think of it, is of very great consequence to his family; he is an old friend and neighbor whom we all care for, and any mishap that might befall him would be a calamity to us all."

"Pray continue," said he, softly; "I am giving you all my attention.

Having given the sketch of one of so much value to his friends, I am waiting now to hear of the other whom n.o.body is interested for."

"This is no time for sarcasm, however witty, Mr. Maitland; and I am sure your better feeling will tell you that I could not have come here to listen to it. Do not be offended with me for my bluntness, nor refuse what I have asked you."

"You have not asked anything from me," said he, smiling.

"Well, I will now," said she, with more courage in her tone; "I will ask you not to go any further in this affair,--to pledge your word to me that it shall stop here."

"Remember I am but one; any promise I may make you can only take effect with the concurrence of another."

"I know nothing--I want to know nothing--of these subtleties; tell me flatly you'll not give this old man a meeting."

"I will, if you 'll only say how I am to avoid it. No, no; do not be angry with me," said he, slightly touching the hand that rested on his arm. "I'd do far more than this to win one, even the faintest smile that ever said, 'I thank you;' but there is a difficulty here. You don't know with what he charges me."

"Perhaps I suspect it."

"It is that after paying most marked attention to his daughter, I have suddenly ceased to follow up my suit, and declared that I meant nothing by it."

"Well?" said she, quietly.

"Well," repeated he. "Surely no one knows better than you that there was no foundation for this."

"I! how should I know it?"

"At all events," replied he, with some irritation of manner, "you could n't believe it."

"I declare I don't know," said she, hesitatingly, for the spirit of drollery had got the better even of the deep interest of the moment,--"I declare I don't know, Mr. Maitland. There is a charm in the manner of an unsophisticated country girl which men of the world are often the very first to acknowledge."

"Charming unsophistication!" muttered he, half aloud.

"At all events, Mr. Maitland, it is no reason that because you don't admire a young lady, you are to shoot her papa."

"How delightfully illogical you are!" said he; and, strangely enough, there was an honest admiration in the way he said it.

"I don't want to convince, sir; I want to be obeyed. What I insist upon is, that this matter shall end here. Do you mind, Mr. Maitland, that it end here?"