Her Hero

by Ethel M. Dell

"My dear child, it's absurd to be romantic over such a serious matter asmarriage--the greatest mistake, I assure you. Nothing could be moresuitable than an alliance with this very eligible young man. He plainlythinks so himself. If you are so unreasonable as to throw away thismagnificent chance, I shall really feel inclined to give you up indespair.""And so I escaped. Her ladyship didn't like it, but it was worth atussle.""I think we will go for a picnic, Romeo," said Priscilla.Raffold Abbey was huge and rambling, girt with many memories. They spentnearly two hours wandering through the house and the old, crumblingchapel.That evening Priscilla found a letter from her stepmother awaitingher--a briefly worded, urgent summons.Priscilla's reply to her stepmother's summons, written several dayslater, was a highly unsatisfactory epistle indeed, in the opinion of itsrecipient. She found it quite impossible to tear herself away from thecountry while the fine weather lasted, she wrote. She was enjoyingherself immensely, and did not feel that she could ever endure the wholeof a London season in one dose again.Priscilla never quite realised afterwards how it was that the whole ofthat long summer day slipped by and her confession remained stillunspoken. She did make one or two attempts to lead round to the subject,but each seemed to be foredoomed to failure, and at last she abandonedthe idea--for that day, at least. It seemed, after all, but a paltrything in face of her great happiness.Priscilla left a hastily scribbled note for Carfax in Froggy's keeping.In it she explained that she was obliged to go to town, but that shewould meet him there any day before noon at any place that he wouldappoint. Froggy was to be the medium of his communication also."I wonder why Priscilla has put on that severely plain attire? It makesher look almost ugly," sighed Lady Raffold. "And how dreadfully pale sheis to-night! Really, I have never seen her look more unattractive.""Funny, wasn't it, sweetheart?"A musical soiree was to follow that interminable dinner, and for atime Priscilla was occupied in helping Lady Raffold to receive theafter-dinner guests. She longed to escape before the contingent from thedining-room arrived upstairs, but she soon realised the impossibility ofthis. Her stepmother seemed to want her at every turn, and when atlength she found herself free, young Lord Harfield appeared at herelbow.The soft, drawling accents fell with a gentle sigh through the perfumedsilence of the speaker's boudoir. She was an elderly woman, beautiful,with that delicate, china-like beauty that never fades from youth toage. Not even Lady Raffold's enemies had ever disputed the fact of herbeauty, not even her stepdaughter, firmly though she despised her.Priscilla leaned back luxuriously in the housekeeper's room at RaffoldAbbey, and laughed upon a deep note of satisfaction. She had discardedall things fashionable with her departure from London in the height ofthe season. The crumpled linen hat she wore was designed for comfort andnot for elegance. Her gown of brown holland was simplicity itself. Shesat carelessly with her arm round the neck of an immense mastiff who hadfollowed her in.It was a Saturday afternoon, warm and slumbrous, and Saturday was theday on which Raffold Abbey was open to the public when the family wereaway. Priscilla's presence was, as it were, unofficial, but though shewas quite content to have it so, she was determined to escape from sightand hearing of the hot and dusty crowd that thronged the place on a fineday from three o'clock till six."There is a crypt below," Priscilla said, "but we can't go down withouta lantern. Another day, if you cared----""Your cousin has not arrived, after all," it said. "Your father and Iare greatly disappointed. Would it not be as well for you to return totown? You can scarcely, I fear, afford to waste your time in thisfashion. Young Lord Harfield was asking for you most solicitously onlyyesterday. Such a charming man, I have always thought!"It was not a well-thought-out letter, being written in a haste that madeitself obvious between the lines. Carfax had hired a motor-car, and waswaiting for her. They went miles that day, and when they stopped at lastthey were in a country that she scarcely knew--a country of barren downsand great sunlit spaces, lonely, immense.They sped homeward at length in the light of a cloudless sunset,smoothly and swiftly as if they swooped through air.She made no mention of Carfax to her father. He had hurt her far toodeeply for any confidence to be possible. Moreover, it seemed to herthat she had no right to speak until Carfax himself gave her leave.She turned with her most dazzling smile to receive the AmericanAmbassador, and no one could have guessed that under her smile was realanger, because her stepdaughter was gracing the occasion in a robe ofsombre black.The soft voice reached her through a buzz of other louder voices.Priscilla moved slightly, but she did not turn her head.It was intolerable. She turned upon him without pity.She sat behind the tea-table, this stepdaughter, dark and inscrutable, agrave, unresponsive listener. Her grey eyes never varied as LadyRaffold's protest came lispingly through the quiet room. She might havebeen turning over some altogether irrelevant problem at the back of hermind. It was this girl's way to hide herself behind a shield of apparentpreoccupation when anything jarred upon her."I've cut everything, Froggy," she declared, "including the terribleAmerican cousin. In fact, it was almost more on his account than anyother that I did it. For I can't and won't marry him, not even for thesake of the dear old Abbey! Are you very shocked, I wonder?"Half a mile or more from the Abbey, a brown stream ran gurgling througha miniature glen, to join the river below the park gates. This streamhad been Priscilla's great delight for longer than she could remember.As children, she and her brother Mortimer had spent hours upon its mossybanks, and since those days she had dreamed many dreams, aye, and shedmany tears, within sound of its rushing waters. She loved the place. Itwas her haven of solitude. No one ever disturbed her there."Of course I should, above all things," declared Carfax. "I was justgoing to ask when I might come again.""That--chicken!" said Priscilla, and tossed her letter aside."This is the place," said Carfax quietly, as he helped her to alight."I will take you to the edge of the park," Carfax said; and when theyreached it he took her in his arms, holding her fast, as if he could notbear to let her go.She did not see her stepmother till the following day. The greetingbetween them was of the coolest, though Lady Raffold, being triumphant,sought to infuse a little sentiment into hers.All the guests had arrived with the exception of Ralph Cochrane, theheir-apparent, as Priscilla styled him, and Lady Raffold chatted withone eye on the door. It was too bad of the young man to be late."You will have to explain," she said. "I don't understand anything yet.""Oh, please," she said, "I've dropped my fan in the dining-room or onthe stairs. Would you be so kind----""I need scarcely tell you what it would mean to your father," went onthe soft voice. "Ever since poor Mortimer's death it has fretted himterribly to think that the estates must pass out of the direct line.Indeed, he hardly feels that the present heir belongs to the family atall. The American branch has always seemed so remote. But now that theyoung man is actually coming over to see his inheritance, it does seemsuch a Heaven-sent chance for you. You know, dear, it's your sixthseason. You really ought to think seriously of getting settled. I amsure it would be a great weight off my mind to see you suitably married.And this young Cochrane is sure to take a reasonable view of the matter.Americans are so admirably practical. And, of course, if your fathercould leave all his money to the estates, as this marriage would enablehim to do, it would be a very excellent arrangement for all concerned."Froggy the housekeeper--so named by young Lord Mortimer in his schoolboydays--looked up from her work and across at Priscilla, her brown,prominent eyes, to which she owed her sobriquet, shining lovinglybehind her spectacles. Her real name was Mrs. Burrowes, but Priscillacould not remember a time when she had ever called her anything butFroggy. The old familiar name had become doubly dear to both of them nowthat Mortimer was dead.The walk across the park made them both hot, and it was a relief to sitdown on her favourite tree-root above the stream and yield herself tothe luxury of summer idleness. A robin was chirping far overhead, andfrom the grass at her feet there came the whir of a grasshopper.Otherwise, save for the music of the stream, all was still. Anexquisite, filmy drowsiness crept over her, and she slept.Their intimacy had progressed wonderfully during those hours ofcompanionship. The total absence of conventionality had destroyed allstrangeness between them. They were as children on a holiday, enjoyingthe present to the full, and wholly careless of the future.Later, she went up to the top of the Abbey, and out on to a part of theroof that had been battlemented, to dream her dream again under thestars and to view her paradise yet more closely from before the openinggates.Priscilla walked a few paces and stood still. She knew exactly why hehad chosen it. Her heart was beating wildly. It seemed to dominate allher other faculties. She felt it to be almost more than she could bear.They parted at last almost in silence, but with the tacit understandingthat they would meet in the glen on the following day."I am really worn out, Priscilla," she said. "It is my turn now to havea little rest. I am going to leave all the hard work to you. It will besuch a relief."She was just giving him up in despair, and preparing to proceed to thedining-room without him, when his name was announced. Lord Raffold wentforward to meet him. Priscilla, sitting on a lounge with Lord Harfield'smother, caught the sound of a soft, leisurely voice apologising; andsomething tightened suddenly at her heart, and held its beating. It wasa voice she knew."Nor I," came the quiet retort. "It's the woman's privilege to explainfirst, isn't it?"He departed, not suspecting her of treachery; and she slipped forthwithinto a tiny conservatory behind the piano. It was her only refuge. Shecould but hope that no one had seen her retire thither. Her need forsolitude just then was intense. She felt herself physically incapable offacing the crowd in the music-room any longer. The first crashing chordsof the piano covered her retreat. She shut herself softly in, and sankinto the only chair the little place contained.The girl at the tea-table made a slight--a very slight--movement thatscarcely amounted to a gesture of impatience. The gentle drone of herstepmother's voice was becoming monotonous. But she said nothingwhatever, and her expression did not change."I should be very shocked, indeed, darling, if it were otherwise," wasFroggy's answer.A deep growl from her bodyguard roused her nearly an hour later, and sheawoke with a start.Not till Carfax had at length taken his leave did Priscilla ask herselfwhat had brought him there. Merely to view his friend's inheritanceseemed a paltry reason. Perhaps he was a journalist, or a writer ofguide-books. But she soon dismissed the matter, to ask herself a morepersonal question. Was it possible that he knew her? Had he found outher name after the New York episode, and come at last to seek her? Shecould not honestly believe this, though her heart leapt at the thought.That affair had taken place four long years before. Of course, he hadforgotten it. It could have made no more than a passing impression uponhim. Had it been otherwise, would he not have claimed her at once as anold acquaintance?It was very late when she returned lightfooted to Froggy's sitting-room,and, kneeling by her friend's side, interposed her dark head between thekind, bulging eyes and the open Bible that lay upon the table.Those moments of unacknowledged waiting were terrible to her. She knewshe had taken an irrevocable step, and her free instinct clamouredloudly against it. It amounted almost to a panic within her.Priscilla walked home through the lengthening shadows with a sense ofwonderment and unreality at her heart. He had asked for no pledge, yetshe knew that the bond between them was such as might stretch to theworld's end and never break. They belonged to each other irrevocablynow, whatever might intervene.Three days later, however, she relinquished this attitude. Priscilla wassummoned to her room, where she was breakfasting, and found her in greatexcitement.As through a mist, she looked across the great room, with its manylights, its buzz of careless voices. And suddenly, it seemed to her, shewas back in the little village church at Raffold, furtively watching astranger who stood in the entrance, and searched with level scrutinyquite deliberately and frankly till he found her.Against her will, the blood rose in her face. She threw him a quickglance.Her mind was a chaos of conflicting emotions. Anger, disappointment, andan almost insane exultation fought together for the mastery. She longedto be rational, to think the matter out quietly and impartially, anddecide how to treat it. But her most determined efforts were vain. Themusic disturbed her. She felt as if the chords were hammering upon herbrain. Yet when it suddenly ceased, the unexpected silence was almostharder to bear.A faintly fretful note crept into Lady Raffold's tone when she spokeagain.And Priscilla breathed a long sigh of contentment. She knew that therewas no need to explain herself to this, her oldest friend.Romeo was sitting very upright, watching something on the farther sideof the stream. He growled again as Priscilla sat up.Yes, it was plain that her first conviction must be correct. He did notknow her. The whole incident had passed completely from his memory,crowded out, no doubt, and that speedily, by more absorbing interests.She had flashed across his life, attaining to no more importance than abird upon the wing. He had saved her life at a frightful risk, and thenforgotten her very existence. She had always realised it must be so,but, strangely, she had never resented it. In spite of it, with awoman's queer, inexplicable faithfulness, she yet loved her hero, yetcherished closely, fondly, the memory that she doubted not had fadedutterly from his mind."Froggy," she whispered softly, "I'm so happy, dear--so happy!"There came a quiet step on the turf behind her. She did not turn, butthe suspense became suddenly unendurable. With a convulsive movement,she made as if she would go on. At the same instant an arm encircledher, checked her, held her closely.She reached the Abbey, walking as in a maze of happiness, with nothought for material things."My dear child, he has arrived. He has actually arrived, and is stayingat the Ritz. He must come and dine with us to-morrow night. It will bequite an informal affair--only thirty--so it can easily be managed. Hemust take you in, Priscilla; and, oh, my dear, do remember that it isthe great opportunity of your life, and it mustn't be thrown away,whatever happens! Your father has set his heart upon it."Their eyes met, and her heart thrilled responsively as an instrumentthrills to the hand of a skilled player."I can't possibly explain anything here," she said.In the buzz of applause that ensued, the door behind her opened, and aman entered."You're so unreasonable, Priscilla. I really haven't a notion what youactually want. You might have been a duchess by this time, as all theworld knows, if you had only been reasonable. How is it--why is it--thatyou are so hard to please?"She laid her cheek comfortably against the great dog's ear.She looked across in the same direction, and laid a hasty hand upon hiscollar.She went to the village church with Froggy on the following day, thoughfully alive to the risk she ran of being pointed out to the ignorant asLady Priscilla from the Abbey. She knew by some deep-hidden instinctthat he would be there, and she was not disappointed. He came in late,and stood quite still just inside the little building, searching it upand down with keen, quiet eyes that never faltered in their progresstill they lighted upon her. She fancied there was a faintly humorousexpression about his mouth. His look did not dwell upon her. He steppedaside to a vacant chair close to the door, and Priscilla, in her great,square pew near the pulpit, saw him no more. When she left the church atthe end of the service he had already disappeared.And so kneeling, she told Froggy in short, halting sentences of thesudden splendour that had glorified her life."So, sweetheart!" said Julian Carfax, his voice soothing, womanly, butpossessing withal a note of vitality, of purpose, that she had neverheard in it before.Romeo came to greet her with effusion, and an air of having something totell her. She fondled him, and went on with him into the house. Theyentered by a conservatory, and so through the shrouded drawing-room intothe great hall."Are you talking about Mr. Cochrane?" asked Priscilla.Almost involuntarily she rose. There was some mistake. She knew theremust be some mistake. She felt that in some fashion it rested with herto explain and to justify his presence there.He met her look with steady eyes.She heard the click of the key in the lock, and turned sharply toprotest. But the words died on her lips, for there was that in hisbrown, resolute face that silenced her. She became suddenly breathlessand quivering before him, as she had been that day on the down when hehad taken her into his arms.Lady Priscilla raised her eyelids momentarily."No, Romeo," she murmured. "Your missis isn't going to be thrown at anyman's head if she knows it. But it's a difficult world, old boy; almostan impossible world, I sometimes think. Froggy, I know you can besentimental when you try. What should you do if you fell in love with atotal stranger without ever knowing his name? Should you have thefidelity to live in single blessedness all your life for the sake ofyour hero?"What she saw surprised her considerably. A man was lying face downwardson the brink of the stream, fishing about in the water, with one armbared to the shoulder. He must have heard Romeo's warning growl, but hepaid not the slightest attention to it. Priscilla watched him with keeninterest. She could not see his face.Froggy went out to tea that afternoon with much solicitous regret, whichPriscilla treated in a spirit of levity. She packed her tea-basket againas soon as she was alone, selecting her provisions with care. And soonafter three, accompanied by Romeo, she started for the glen, notsauntering idly, but stepping briskly through the golden sunshine, asone with a purpose. She felt as if she were going to a trysting-place,though no word of a tryst had passed between them.Froggy was greatly astonished, and even startled. She was also anxious,and showed it. But Priscilla hastened to smooth this away.She suffered his hold with a faint but desperate cry.The girl's eyes were dazzled by the sudden gloom she found there. Sheexpected to meet no one, and so it was with a violent start that she sawa man's figure detach itself from the shadows and come towards her."To be sure. Who else? Now don't put on that far-away look, pray! Youknow what is, after all, your simple duty, and I trust you mean to doit. You can't be going to disappoint your father in this matter. And youreally must marry soon Priscilla. It is getting serious. In fact, itworries me perpetually. By the way, here is a letter for you fromRaffold. It must have got among mine by mistake. Mrs. Burrowes'shandwriting, I imagine."But in that instant his eyes left her, and the magnetism that compelledher died swiftly down. She saw him shake hands with Lady Raffold, andbow to the Ambassador."Let me tell you the story of a fraud," he said; and proceeded withoutfurther preliminary. "There was once a man--a second son, withoutprospects and without fame--who had the good fortune to do a service toa woman. He went away immediately afterwards lest he should make a foolof himself, for she was miles above his head, anyway. But he neverforgot her. The mischief was done, so far as he was concerned."He withdrew the key, and dropped it into her lap."I don't think you would understand, Charlotte, if I were to tell you,"she said, in a voice of such deep music that it seemed incapable ofbitterness.Froggy looked a little startled at the question, lightly as it was put.She felt that it was scarcely a problem that could be settled offhand.And yet something in Priscilla's manner seemed to indicate that shewanted a prompt reply.Suddenly he clutched at something in the clear water, and immediatelystraightened himself, withdrawing his arm. Then, quite calmly, he lookedacross at her, and spoke in a peculiar, soft drawl like a woman's.He was there before her, bareheaded and alert, quite obviously awaitingher. He did not express his pleasure in words as he took her hand inhis. Only there was an indescribable look in his brown eyes that madeher very glad that she had come. He had brought an enormous basket ofstrawberries, which he presented with that drawling ease of manner whichshe had come to regard as peculiarly his own, and they settled down tothe afternoon's enjoyment in a harmony as complete as the summer peaceabout them."Yes, I know it's sudden. But sometimes, you know, love is like that.Don't be anxious, Froggy. I am much more cautious--but what a ridiculousword!--than you think. He doesn't know who I am yet. I pretended to himthat I was a relation of yours. And he isn't to know at present. Youwill keep that in mind, won't you? And in a day or two I shall bring himin here to tea, and you will be able to judge of him for yourself. No,dear, no; of course he hasn't spoken. It is much too soon. You forgetthat though I have known him so long, he has only known me for two days.Oh, Froggy, isn't it wonderful to think of--that he should have come atlast like this? It is almost as if--as if my love had drawn him.""You don't know me," she said, with a gasping effort. "You don't--" Thewords failed. He was pressing her to him ever more closely, and she felthis fingers gently fumbling at her veil. With a sudden passionatemovement she put up both hands, and threw it back."Who is it?" she asked sharply; and then in astonishment: "Why, Dad!"She was right. It was directed by Froggy, but Priscilla paled suddenlyas she took it, realising that it contained an answer to her own urgentnote.Then came her stepmother's quick, beckoning glance, and she movedforward in response to it. She was quivering from head to foot,bewildered, in some subtle fashion afraid.He broke off, and raised his champagne to his lips as if he drank to amemory."Open if you will," he said, in the quiet voice, half tender, halfhumorous, that she had come to know so well. "I am closely followed bythe infant with the scowl.""Some ridiculous sentimentality, no doubt," said Lady Raffold."It is a little difficult to say, dear," she said, after briefreflection. "I can understand that one might be strongly attractedtowards a stranger, but I should think it scarcely possible that onecould go so far as to fall in love.""You'll forgive me for disturbing you, I know," he said, "when I tellyou that all my worldly goods were at the bottom of this ditch."No spoken confidences passed between them. Their intimacy was such as tomake words seem superfluous. Both seemed to feel that the present wasall-sufficing."There!" she said, with a sound, half laugh, half sob, and turnedherself wholly to him.Her father's voice answered her, but not with the gruff kindliness towhich she was accustomed. It came to her grim and stern, and she knewinstinctively that he hated the errand that had brought him.Alone in her own room she opened it. The message was even briefer thanhers had been: "Sweetheart,--At 11 A.M., on Thursday, under thedome of St. Paul's Cathedral.--I am thine, J. C.""My dear, your cousin. He will take you in. Ralph, this is Priscilla."Priscilla was listening, but her eyes were downcast. She wore the old,absent look that her stepmother always deprecated. The soft drawl at herside continued, every syllable distinct and measured.Priscilla sat silent in her chair. What could she say to him?"I am sure you would call it so."Priscilla uttered a faint, rueful laugh.He displayed his recovered property as if to verify his words--a brownleather pocketbook with a silver clasp. Priscilla gazed from it to itsowner in startled silence. Her heart was beating almost to suffocation.She knew this man.Only once did Priscilla challenge Carfax's memory. The impulse wasirresistible at the moment, though she regretted it later. He washolding out to her the biggest strawberry he could find. It lay on aleaf on the palm of his hand, and as she took it she suddenly saw along, terrible scar extending upwards from his wrist till his sleeve hidit from view.The next instant, as his lips pressed hers, all the anguish of doubtthat had come upon her was gone like an evil spirit from her soul. Sheknew only that they stood alone together in a vast space that was filledto the brim with the noonday sunshine. All her heart was flooded withrejoicing. The gates had opened wide for her, and she had entered in."I have come down to fetch you," he said. "I do not approve of yourbeing here alone. It is unusual and quite unnecessary. You are quitewell?"Priscilla stood for long seconds with the note in her hand. It hadreached her too late. The appointment had been for the day before. Sheturned to the envelope, and saw that it must have been lying among herstepmother's correspondence for two days. Doubtless he had waited forher at the trysting-place, and waited in vain.It was sublimely informal. Lady Raffold had rehearsed that introductionseveral times. It was half the battle that the young man should feelhimself one of the family from the outset."Years passed, and things changed. The man had belonged to a cadetbranch of an aristocratic British family. But one heir after anotherdied, till only he was left to inherit. The woman belonged to the olderbranch of the family, but, being a woman, she was passed over. A timecame when he was invited by the head of the house to go and see hisinheritance. He would have gone at once and gladly, but for a hint atthe end of the letter to the effect that, if he would do his part, whatthe French shamelessly call a mariage de convenance might be arrangedbetween his cousin and himself--an arrangement advantageous to them bothfrom a certain point of view. He didn't set up for a paragon ofmorality. Perhaps even, had things been a little different, he mighthave been willing. As it was, he didn't like the notion, and he jibbed."He paused. "But for all that," he said, his voice yet quieter and moredeliberate, "he wanted the woman, if he could make her care for him.That was his difficulty. He had a feeling all along that the thing mustbe an even greater offence to her than it was to him. He worried it allthrough, and at last he worked out a scheme for them both. He calledhimself by an old school alias, and came to her as a stranger----"Well?" he said, after a moment. "The end of the story--is it writtenyet?"A faint flush rose in the girl's dark face. She looked at her stepmotherno longer, but began very quietly and steadily to make the tea."Perhaps you couldn't, Froggy," she admitted. "But you know there issuch a thing as loving at first sight. Some people go so far as to saythat all true love begins that way."The water babbled on between them, singing a little tinkling song allits own. But the girl neither saw nor heard aught of her surroundings.She was back in the heat and whirl of a crowded New York thoroughfare,back in the fierce grip of this man's arms, hearing his quiet voiceabove her head, bidding her not to be frightened."Why," she exclaimed, with a start; then, seeing his questioning look,"surely that's a burn?""Yes, I am well," Priscilla said. "But why should you object to my beinghere?"Only one thing remained to be done, and that was to telegraph to Froggyfor Carfax's address. But Froggy's answer, when it came, was onlyanother disappointment:Priscilla grabbed at her self-control, and managed to bow. But the nextinstant his hand, strong, warm, reassuring, grasped hers."You're not eating anything, sweetheart. Wouldn't it be as well, justfor decency's sake? There's a comic ending to this story, so you mustn'tbe sad. Who's that boy scowling at me on the other side of the table?What's the matter with the child?"She shook her head dumbly. Curiously, the throbbing anger had left herheart at the mere sound of his voice.Lady Raffold waited a few seconds for her confidence, but she waited invain. Lady Priscilla had retired completely behind her shield, and itwas quite obvious that she had no intention of exposing herself anyfurther to stray shots.She rose quietly and went to her friend's side.Gradually the vision passed. The wild tumult at her heart died down. Shebecame aware that he was waiting for her to speak, and she did so as onein a dream."It is," said Carfax.She stood still, facing him. She knew who had inspired thisinterference, and from the bottom of her soul she resented it. Herfather did not answer. Thinking it over calmly later, she knew that hewas ashamed."Address not known. Did you not receive letter I forwarded?""Curious, isn't it?" the quiet voice asked. "We can't be strangers, youand I.""Never mind," murmured Priscilla hastily. "He doesn't mean anything.Please go on."He waited for about three seconds, then knelt quietly down beside her.Her stepmother was exasperated, but she found it difficult to sayanything more upon the subject in face of this impenetrability. Shecould only solace herself with the reflection that the American cousin,who had become heir to the earldom and estates of Raffold, would almostcertainly take a more common-sense view of the matter, and, if that wereso, a little pressure from the girl's father, whom she idolised, wouldprobably be sufficient to settle it according to her desires."Oh, Froggy, it's very difficult to be true to your inner self when youstand quite alone," she said, "and every one else is thinking what afool you are!" The words had an unwonted ring of passion in them, and,having uttered them, she knelt down by Froggy's side, and hid her faceagainst the ample shoulder. "And I sometimes think I'm a fool myself,"she ended, in muffled accents."I am glad you got it back," she said.He turned his hand over to hide it. His manner seemed to indicate thathe did not wish to pursue the subject. But Priscilla, suddenly reckless,ignored the hint."Be ready to start from here in half an hour," he said. "We shall catchthe nine-thirty."Reluctantly Priscilla realised that there was nothing for it butpatience. Carfax would almost certainly write again through Froggy.The grip of his fingers was close and intimate. It was as if he appealedfor her support.He began to laugh at her with gentle ridicule."Say," he drawled, "I kind of like Raffold Abbey, sweetheart. Wouldn'tit be nice to spend our honeymoon there? Do you think they would letus?" He laid his hand upon both of hers. "Wouldn't it be good?" he saidsoftly. "I should think there would be room for two, eh, sweetheart?"It was so plainly Priscilla's duty to marry the young man. The wholething seemed to be planned and cut out by Providence. And it was butnatural that Ralph Cochrane should see it in the same light. For it wasunderstood that he was not rich, and it would be greatly to his interestto marry Earl Raffold's only surviving child.Froggy's arms closed instantly and protectingly around her.His brown, clean-shaven face smiled at her, but there was no hint ofrecognition in his eyes. He had totally forgotten her, of course, as shehad always told herself he would. Did not men always forget? Andyet--and yet--was he not still her hero--the man for whose sake allother men were less than naught to her?"But how did you do it?" she asked.Priscilla made no further protest. Her father had never addressed thattone to her before, and it cut her to the heart.That he had not her address she knew, for Froggy was under a solemn vowto reveal nothing, but she would not believe that he would regard herfailure to keep tryst as a deliberate effort to snub him, though thefear that he might do so haunted and grew upon her all through the day.With an effort she forced herself to respond:"Impatient for the third act? Well, the scheme worked all right. Butit so chanced that the woman decided to be subtle, too. She knew himfor an old friend the instant she saw him. But he pretended to haveforgotten that old affair in New York. He didn't want her to feel inany way under an obligation. So he played the humble stranger, andshe--sweetheart--she played the simple, country maiden, and she did itto perfection. I think, you know, that she was a little afraid her nameand title would frighten him away."With an effort she sought to withstand him before he wholly dominatedher.So Lady Raffold reasoned to herself as Priscilla poured out the tea inserious silence, and she gradually soothed her own annoyance by theprocess."My darling, who is it, then?" whispered her motherly voice.Again Romeo growled deeply, and she tightened her hold upon him. Thestranger, however, appeared quite unimpressed. He stood up andcontemplated the stream that divided them with a measuring eye.Carfax hesitated for a second, then:"Very well," she said; and turned to go.She went to a theatre that night, and later to a dance, but neitherentertainment served to lift the deadening weight from her spirits. Shewas miserable, and the four hours she subsequently spent in bed broughther no relief."Of course not. It must be quite five years since our first meeting.""And so he humoured her?" said Priscilla, a slight quiver in her deepvoice."And every one will call it a mariage de convenance!""Come," she said at length, breaking a long silence, "I should thinkRalph Cochrane will be in England in ten days at the latest. We must notbe too formal with him as he is a relation. Shall we ask him to luncheonon the Sunday after next?"Priscilla did not at once reply. It was a difficult confidence to make.At last, haltingly, words came:"Have I your permission to come across?" he asked her finally, in hissoft Southern drawl."It was years ago," he said, rather unwillingly. "A lady's dress caughtfire. It fell to me to put it out."Her deep voice held no anger, and only Romeo, pressed close against her,knew that the hand that had just caressed him was clenched andquivering.She rose at last in sheer desperation, and went for an early ride in thePark. She met a few acquaintances, but she shook them off. She wanted tobe alone.He looked at her oddly, quizzically, as he offered his arm."They humoured each other, sweetheart. That was where it began to befunny. Now I am going to get you to tell me the rest of the story.""Let them!" he answered, with suppressed indifference. "I reckon weshall have the laugh. But it isn't so unusual, you know. Americansalways fall in love at first sight."Priscilla did not at once reply. When at length she looked up, it waswith the air of one coming out of a reverie."It was years ago--that summer we went to New York, Dad and I. He wasfrom the South, so I heard afterwards. He stayed at the same hotel withus, one of those quiet, unobtrusive, big men--not big physically,but--you understand. I might not have noticed him--I don't know--but oneday a man in the street threw down a flaming match just as I was comingout of the hotel. I had on a muslin dress, and it caught fire. Ofcourse, it blazed in a moment, and I was terrified. Dad wasn't there.But the man was in the balcony just overhead, and he swung himself down,I never saw how, and caught me in his arms. He had nothing to put it outwith. He simply threw me down and flung himself on the top, beating outthe flames in all directions with his hands. I was dreadfully upset, ofcourse, but I wasn't much hurt. He was--horribly. One of his hands wasall charred.She laughed a little nervously. He was not without audacity,notwithstanding his quiet manner."How brave!" murmured Priscilla. Her eyes were shining. Had he looked upthen he must have read her secret.When she was returning, however, her youthful admirer, Lord Harfield,attached himself to her, refusing to be discouraged."Why, yes," he drawled, as they began to move towards the door. "Shouldauld acquaintance be forgot? It is exactly five years ago to-day."She turned towards him again, her face very pale.He was unanswerable. He was sublime. She marvelled that she could haveever even attempted to resist him."Oh, yes, if you like, Charlotte," she said, in her deep, quiet voice."No doubt he will amuse you. I know you always enjoy Americans.""He carried me back into the hotel and told me not to be frightened. Andhe stayed with me till I felt better, because somehow I wanted him to.He was so strong, Froggy, and so kind. He had a voice like a woman's.I've thought since that he must have thought me very foolish anduncontrolled. But he seemed to understand just how I felt. And--do youknow--I never saw him again! He went right away that very afternoon, andwe never found out who he was. And I never thanked him even for savingmy life. I don't think he wanted to be thanked."You can cross if you like," she said. "But it's all private property."But he did not look up. For the first time he seemed to be labouringunder some spell of embarrassment."I met your cousin at the Club yesterday," he told her."Yes; it's very funny, no doubt--funny for the man, I mean; for thewoman, I am not so sure. How does she know that he really cared for herfrom the beginning; that he was always quite honest in his motive? Howcan she possibly know this?"With a sudden, tremulous laugh, she caught his hand to her, holding itfast."And you, my dear?" said Lady Raffold, with just a hint of sharpness inher tone."But I have never forgotten him. He was the sort of man you never couldforget. I've never seen any one in the least like him. He was somehow somuch greater than all the other men I know. Am I a fool, Froggy? Isuppose I am. They say every woman will meet her mate if she waits longenough, but it can't be true. I suppose I might as well marry the Yankeeheir, only I can't--I can't!"He paused, looking at her intently."It wasn't brave at all," he said, after a moment. "I could have done noless.""What is he like?" Priscilla asked, without much interest.Again for a moment their eyes met. There was no hint of dismay in theman's brown face."Not Americans only!" she said. And swiftly, passionately, she bent andpressed her lips to the red, seared scar upon her hero's wrist."I?" Again her stepdaughter paused a little, as if collecting herthoughts. "I shall not be here," she said finally. "I have decided to godown to Raffold for midsummer week, and I don't suppose I shall hurryback. It won't matter, will it? I often think that you entertain bestalone. And I am so tired of London heat and dust."The low voice ceased, and there fell a silence. Froggy's arms werefolded very closely about the kneeling girl, but she had no words ofcomfort or counsel to offer. She was, in fact, out of her depth, thoughnot for worlds would she have had Priscilla know it."It belongs to Earl Raffold, I have been told?"There was almost a vexed note in his voice. Yet she persisted."Oh, haven't you seen him yet? A very queer fish, with a twang you couldcut with a knife. Don't think you'll like him," said Lord Harfield, whowas jealous of every man who so much as bowed to Priscilla."She does know it, sweetheart," he answered, with confidence. "I can'ttell you how. Probably she couldn't, either. He was going to explaineverything, you know, under the dome of St. Paul's Cathedral. But forsome reason it didn't come off. He spent three solid hours waiting forher, but she didn't come. She had found him out, perhaps? And wasangry?"There was an unconscious note of wistfulness in the beautiful voice, butits dominant virtue was determination."You must just follow your own heart, dearest," she said at last. "And Ithink you will find happiness some day. God grant it!"She bent her head, and her answer leapt out with an ease that astonishedher. She felt it to be an inspiration."What was she like? Wasn't she very grateful?"Priscilla smiled faintly."Perhaps," said Priscilla, her voice very low.Lady Raffold realised at once to her unspeakable indignation thatprotest was useless.Priscilla lifted her head and kissed her. She knew quite well that shehad led whither Froggy could not follow. But the knowledge did not hurther."It does. But the family are in town for the season. I am staying withthe housekeeper. She is allowed to have her friends when the family areaway.""I don't know at all. I don't suppose she enjoyed the situation any morethan I did.""I don't think so, either," she said. "You are coming to dine with usto-night, aren't you? He will be there too."Again he raised his glass to his lips."Really, Priscilla," was all she found to say, "I am amazed--yes,amazed--at your total lack of consideration."She called Romeo, and went out into the summer sunshine, with a smilehalf tender and half humorous at the corners of her mouth. Poor Froggy!It was rather breathlessly spoken, but he did not seem to notice.He plucked a tuft of moss and tossed it from him, as if therewithdismissing the subject. And Priscilla felt a little hurt, though not forworlds would she have suffered him to see it."Will he? I say, what a bore for you! Yes, I'm coming. I'll do my bestto help you," the boy assured her eagerly."We will have the end of the story presently," he said; and deliberatelyturned to his left-hand neighbour.But Priscilla was quite unimpressed."I see," he said. "Then one more or less can't make much difference."It fell to him to break the silence a few seconds later, and he did sowithout a hint of difficulty.And again Priscilla smiled. She was quite sure that she would be bored,whatever happened, though she was too kind-hearted to say so."You won't have time to miss me," she said. "I don't think any one will,except, perhaps, Dad; and he always knows where to find me."With the words he took a single stride forward and bounded into the air.He landed lightly almost at her feet, and Romeo sprang up with anoutraged snarl. It choked in his throat almost instantly, however, forthe stranger laid a restraining hand upon him, and spoke with soothingself-assurance."When am I going to see the crypt?""Your father will certainly not leave town before the end of theseason," said Lady Raffold, raising her voice slightly."It's an evil brute that kills a friend, eh, old fellow? You couldn't doit if you tried."Priscilla laughed a little."Poor dear Dad!" murmured Priscilla.Romeo's countenance changed magically. He turned his hostility into anardent welcome, and the girl at his side laughed again rathertremulously."Are you writing a book about the place?""It's a good thing you weren't afraid. I couldn't have held him."He laughed back at her quite openly."I saw that," said the Southerner, speaking softly, his face on a levelwith the great head he was caressing. "But I knew it would be all right.You see, I--kind of like dogs.""Not at present. When I do, it will be a romance, with you for heroine."He turned to her after a moment, a faintly quizzical expression abouthis eyes."Oh, no; not me!" she protested. "I am a mere nobody. Lady Priscillaought to be your heroine.""I won't intrude upon you," he said. "I can go and trespass elsewhere,you know."He raised his eyebrows. She had begun to associate that look of his withprotest rather than surprise.Priscilla was not as a rule reckless. A long training in herstepmother's school had made her cautious and far-seeing in all thingssocial. She knew exactly the risk that lay in unconventionality. But,then, had she not fled from town to lead a free life? Why should shesubmit to the old, galling chain here in this golden world where itsrestraint was not known? Her whole being rose up in revolt at the bareidea, and suddenly, passionately, she decided to break free. Even theflowers had their day of riotous, splendid life. She would have hers,wherever its enjoyment might lead her, whatever it might cost!"I have yet to be introduced to Lady Priscilla," he said. "And as shedoesn't like men, I almost think I shall forego the pleasure and keepout of her way."And so she answered him with a lack of reserve at which her Londonfriends would have marvelled."Perhaps I have given you a wrong impression about her," Priscilla said,speaking with a slight effort. "It is only the idle, foppish men abouttown she has no use for.""You don't intrude at all. If you have come to see the Abbey, I shouldadvise you to wait till after six o'clock.""She is fastidious, apparently," he returned, lying down abruptly at herfeet."When it will be closed to the public?" he questioned, still lookingquizzical."Don't you like women to be fastidious?" Priscilla demanded boldly.She looked up at him, for the first time deliberately meeting his eyes.Yes it was plain that he did not know her; but on the whole she wasglad, it made things easier. She had been so foolish and hysterical uponthat far-off day when he had saved her life.He lay quite motionless for several seconds, then turned in a leisurelyfashion upon his side to survey her."I will take you over it myself, if you care to accept my guidance," shesaid, "after the crowd have gone.""You are fastidious?" he asked.He glanced at his watch."Of course I am!" Priscilla's words came rather breathlessly. "Don't youthink me so?""And you are prepared to tolerate my society till six?" he said. "Thatis very generous of you."Again he was silent for seconds. Then, in a baffling drawl, his answercame:She smiled, with a touch of wistfulness."If you will allow me to say so, I think you are just the sweetest womanI ever met.""Perhaps I don't find my own very inspiring."Priscilla met his eyes for a single instant, and looked away. She wasburning and throbbing from head to foot. She could find naught to say inanswer; no word wherewith to turn his deliberate sentence into a jest.Perhaps in her secret heart she did not desire to do so, for a voicewithin her, a voice long stifled, cried out that she had met her mate.And, since surrender was inevitable, why should she seek to delay it?He raised his eyebrows, but made no comment.But Carfax said no more. Possibly he thought he had said too much. Atleast, after a long, quiet pause, he looked away from her; and the spellthat bound her passed."Perhaps I had better tell you my name," he said, after a pause. "I amin a fashion connected with this place--a sort of friend of the family,if it isn't presumption to put it that way. My name is Julian Carfax,and Ralph Cochrane, the next-of-kin, is a pal of mine, a very great pal.He was coming over to England. Perhaps you heard. But he's a very shyfellow, and almost at the last moment he decided not to face it atpresent. I was coming over, so I undertook to explain. I spoke to LadyRaffold in town over the telephone, and told her. She seemed to berather affronted, for some reason. Possibly it was my fault. I'm notmuch of a diplomatist, anyway."He seated himself on a mossy stone below her with this reflection, andbegan to cast pebbles into the brown water.Priscilla watched him gravely. What he had told her interested herconsiderably, but she had no intention of giving herself away bybetraying it.There was a decided pause before she made up her mind how to pursue thesubject."I had no idea that an American could be shy," she said then.Carfax turned with his pleasant smile."No? We're a pushing race, I suppose. But I think Cochrane had someexcuse for his timidity this time.""Yes?" said Priscilla.He began to laugh quietly."You see, it turned out that he was expected to marry the old maid ofthe family--Lady Priscilla. Naturally he kicked at that."Priscilla bent sharply over Romeo, and began to examine one of his hugepaws. Her face was a vivid scarlet."It wasn't surprising, was it?" said Carfax, tossing another pebble intothe stream. "It was more than enough, in my opinion, to make any fellowfeel shy."Priscilla did not answer. The colour was slow to fade from her face."I wonder if you have ever seen the lady?" Carfax pursued. "She was outof town when I was there.""Yes; I have seen her."Priscilla spoke with her head bent."You have? What is she like?"He glanced round with an expression of amused interest. Priscilla lookedup deliberately."She is quite old and ugly. But I don't think Mr. Ralph Cochrane need beafraid. She doesn't like men. I am rather sorry for her myself.""Sorry for her? Why?"Carfax became serious."I think she is rather lonely," the girl said, in a low voice."You know her well?""Can any one say that they really know any one? No. But I think that shefeels very deeply, and that her life has always been more or less of afailure. At least, that is the sort of feeling I have about her."Again, but more gradually, the colour rose in her face. She took up herbasket, and began to unpack it.Carfax turned fully round."You go in for character-study," he said."A little," she owned. "I can't help it. Now let me give you some tea. Ihave enough for two.""I shall be delighted," he said courteously. "Let me help you tounpack."Priscilla could never recall afterwards how they spent the golden hourstill six o'clock. She was as one in a dream, to which she clung closely,passionately, fearing to awake. For in her dream she was standing on thethreshold of her paradise, waiting for the opening of the gates.

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