A Heart-Song of To-day Part 7

And they stopped in front of the D'Israeli Arms where a group of gentlemen were watering their horses.

"Ah! how do Mrs. Tompkins," said Lord Rivers lazily wheeling his handsome bay and lifting his hat to the group.

"Whither bound?"

"For 'Haughton' Hall, you are coming I hope, now don't say no for I shall not listen if you do."

"Too bad, but I am due at Epsom, a little trotting race is on, and if not the lord of Haughton, whom I met up the road, did not give me an invitation."

"But I do," said Madame with emphasis.

"He is a lucky fellow," he said slowly and taking in the situation.

"So I think," she said laughing, and remembering she had Trevalyon for to-day continued hastily, "we open the Hall for no end of revels at Christmas, I must have you then."

"I shall slumber and dream of you until that time," and with a long side glance from his sleepy eyes the Epicurean peer put spurs to his horse to overtake his friends.

"Drive on, coachman."

"What deep eyes Lord Rivers has; he quite looks one through. What a pity such a sweet man should have such an ugly, disagreeable wife, I never thought she would be even a possible choice for any man," said the Marchmont.

"Better for us, it makes him sigh for the impossible," said Mrs.

Tompkins.

"And 'tis such a sweet mission for a woman, that of consoler," sighed the Marchmont.

"To a man," said Blanche with her innocent air.

"Of course to a man; a woman would suspect a latent pity for which she would reward you with her claws," said Mrs. Tompkins.

"Sweet consoler, I shall send to Pittsburg for a cast-iron heart and buy out some druggist's court plaster," said Blanche. "You shall console a husband next season, I am determined in this."

"Indeed! who have you got me ticketed for?" and the pink eyes turned towards her step-mother.

"Little Sir Tilton would be just her height, dear Mrs. Tompkins," and Mrs. Meltonbury clasped her hands in ecstasy.

"Mrs. Tompkins will tell you how I love him," said Blanche disapprovingly.

"Yes Melty, Blanche cannot endure him and besides he is my little beau," said Madame with an air of proprietorship.

But the Hall of the Haughtons is reached, and the carriage rolls through the wide open gates. At the pretty lodge door stands the keeper and his wife, he pulls off his cap while she curtsies low, their future mistress tosses them a gold bit at which more curtsy and bow. What a magnificent avenue through the great park, the oak and elm mingling their branches and interlacing their arms overhead, through which a glimpse of blue heavens with golden gleams of sunlight are seen. A turn in the road and the grand entrance is before them, on either side of which are flower beds in full bloom. A conservatory is all around the octagon south wing, now bereft of its floral beauties excepting its orchards and ferns. It is really a fine old place, large and ma.s.sive, in grey stone and with the grandeur of other days about it; the arms and motto show well in the sculptor's work over the entrance; the words "Always the same" and "Loyal unto death," standing out brave and firm, as the Haughtons have for generations unnumbered.

On the steps stand the master of Haughton, beside him his friend of years, Trevalyon, behind them their acquaintance, small Sir Tilton Everly. In the background, on either side of the Hall, are the household, only a few for their master has an uncomfortably small income, but they love him and will not leave him for filthy lucre's sake. But they are glad of the news that their master will marry and that a good time is coming for them.

"Thrice welcome to Haughton Hall, my dear guest," said Col. Haughton, taking the hand of his bride-elect and leading her up the steps; "your future mistress, and if you are as faithful to us both as you have been to myself you will do well."

"Thank you kindly, master," said the old butler.

"We will, we will, sir," was echoed from all sides.

After a substantial luncheon, at which they were very merry, Sir Peter Tedril joining them at table, there was a scattering of forces, Col.

Haughton giving his arm to his future wife in introducing her to her future home.

"You say I am to make all things new if I please, Colonel."

"Even to remodelling myself, my dear Kate."

"Wise man, for I am accustomed to get my way, most days," she added, with a side glance at Trevalyon.

And in her inspection she admired or ridiculed, laughed at or condemned, old time-worn tapestry and furniture mouldings and decorations, as ruthlessly as though mere cobwebs. It was finally decided that their tour would be at once, and to New York and Paris, from whence renovators and decorators should be imported; two or three apartments ^only were to be held sacred; old things were to pa.s.s away, all was to become new. The future mistress threw a good deal of vim into her walk and talk, doing all in a business-like manner, determined that Haughton Hall should be unequalled for luxurious comfort. Moreover, doing her duty in allowing her future husband to monopolize her for two or three hours; so earning her reward in Trevalyon in the drive by rail home to the city. The demeanour of Haughton in these hours pleased her; he was not lover-like, but properly admiring and tractable. Once before his mother's portrait he was very much affected, regretting she could not see his happiness, while she inwardly congratulated herself that the stately dame only lived on canvas.

"And now, I suppose, we have 'done' (excuse the slang) the s.p.a.cious, and I must say, the very complete home of your fathers, Colonel; and I may close my notebook," she said, with a satisfied but somewhat relieved air.

"Excepting the north tower, which you would please me very much by making the ascent of; it is selfish, but I shall have you a little while longer to myself, especially as I agree with you that I had best stay here until tomorrow evening to set some of my people to work."

"Two heads are better than one, Colonel," and her pulses throb; another _tete-a-tete_ with her idol made easy.

"Yes, dear, I should have been obliged to run down within the week had I not remained."

"True, and now for the tower; which is the door?"

"Up a dozen steps; I shall have to leave you while I go back for the open sesame."

"In here? 'tis dark; but never mind, run away."

"It is my armoury, and should be locked; but the negligence of the servants gives you a resting place, it is so near the tower; this large leather chair you will find comfortable."

"Thank you, that will do; lift over that box with the dynamite; look about it for my feet."

"Beautiful feet! and my wife's," he whispered low.

"Ta, ta. I have plenty to occupy my eyes."

"Yes, I take quite a pride in my armour, from our own and foreign lands; with the _sabre de mon pere_, Indian idols, Highland targets, and many relics of my happiest days.".

"There, there, that will be very comfortable; by-by."

His footsteps have scarce died away when she is conscious of not being alone, and though in the dim light, her nerves are strong and do not give way; still she slowly arises humming an air, and as if to have a nearer view of an Indian curiosity. Scarcely has she done so than she is clasped in the strong arms of a man who has come from behind her, and pillows her face closely to his breast to prevent a scream, and so she shall not recognize him. She dreaded the return of Col. Haughton, now that events are shaping themselves fairly well; her immediate fear is lest any escapade should cause him to return with her to London, which would perforce prevent her immediate escort by the man she loves. So she allowed a tremor to pa.s.s through her, thinking to excite pity--which she did, for he slightly loosened his tight hold.

"Let me go and I shall not scream; you may have my money or jewels,"

she said in gasps.

"I only want you, my beauty," said a voice she knew well--the voice of George Delrose. And her face is rudely kissed again and again.

"I hope you are satisfied; I shall not ask you how you came here, for as I have before had occasion to remark, you are Lucifer himself," she said in cutting accents.

"Kate, don't, or you will kill me; I must know your moves or I shall go mad."

And the strong man groans for his weakness, pressing his forehead with both hands.