A Perilous Secret Part 36

Neither Julia nor Mary had ever seen him like that before. Julia was unaffectedly distressed.

"Oh, Mary, why did I ever lend it to you?"

Now Mary knew very well where the bracelet was, but she was ashamed to say; she stammered and said, "You know, dear, it is too small, much too small, and my arm is bigger than yours."

"There!" said Julia; "you have broken the clasp!"

Mary colored up to the eyes at her own disingenuousness, and said, hastily, "But I'll have it mended directly; I'll return it to-morrow at the latest."

"I shall be wretched till you do," said Julia, eagerly. "I suppose you know what I want it for now?"

"Why," said Mary, "of course I do: to soothe his wounded feelings."

"Soothe _his_ feelings!" cried Julia, scornfully; "and how about mine?

No; the only thing I want it for now is to fling it in his face. His soul is as small as his body: he's a little, mean, suspicious, jealous fellow, and I'm very glad to have lost him." She flounced off all on fire, looking six feet high, and got quite out of sight before she began to cry.

Then the truth came out. Mary, absorbed in conjugal bliss, had left it at the hotel by the lakes. She told Walter.

"Oh, hang it!" said Walter; "that's unlucky; you will never see it again."

"Oh yes, I shall," said Mary; "they are very honest people at that inn; and I have written about it, and told them to keep it safe, unless they have an opportunity of sending it."

Walter reflected a moment. "Take my advice, Mary," said he. "Let me gallop off this afternoon and get it."

"Oh yes, Walter," said Mary. "Thank you so much. That will be the best way."

At this moment loud and angry voices were heard coming round the corner, and Mary uttered a cry of dismay, for her discriminating ear recognized both those voices in a moment. She clutched Walter's shoulder.

"Oh, Walter, it's your father and mine quarrelling. How unfortunate that they should have met! What shall we do?"

"Hide in Hope's office. The French window is open."

"Quick, then!" cried Mary, and darted into the office in a moment. Walter dashed in after her.

When she got safe into cover she began to complain.

"This comes of concealment--we are always being driven into holes and corners."

"I rather like them with you," said the unabashed Walter.

It matters little what had pa.s.sed out of sight between Bartley and Colonel Clifford, for what the young people heard now was quite enough to make what Sir Lucius O'Trigger calls a very pretty quarrel. Bartley, hitherto known to Mary as a very oily speaker, shouted at the top of his voice in arrogant defiance, "You're not a child, are you? You are old enough to read papers before you sign them."

The Colonel shouted in reply, "I am old, sir, but I am old in honor. I did not expect that any decent tradesman would slip a clause into a farm lease conveying the minerals below the surface to a farmer. It was a fraud, sir; but there's law for fraud. My lawyer shall be down on you to-morrow. Your chimneys disgorge smoke all over my fields. You shall disgorge your dishonest gains. I'll have you off my land, sir; I'll tear you out of the bowels of the earth. You are a sharper and a knave."

At this Bartley roared at him louder still, so that both the young people winced as they crouched in the recess of the window. "You foul-mouthed slanderer, I'll indict you for defamation, and give you twelve months in one of her Majesty's jails."

"No, you won't," roared the Colonel; "I know the law. My comments on your character are not written and signed like your knavish lease; it's a privileged communication--VILLAIN! there are no witnesses--SHARPER! By Jupiter, there are, though!"

He had caught sight of a male figure just visible at the side of the window.

"Who is it? MY SON!"

"My DAUGHTER!" cried Bartley, catching sight of Mary.

"Come out, sir," said the Colonel, no longer loudly, but trembling with emotion.

"Come here, Mary," said Bartley, sternly.

At this moment who should open the back door of the office but William Hope!

"Walter," said the Colonel, with the quiet sternness more formidable than all his bl.u.s.ter, "have not I forbidden you to court this man's daughter?"

Said Bartley to Mary: "Haven't I forbidden you to speak to this ruffian's son?"

Then, being a cad who had lost his temper, he took the girl by the wrist and gave her a rough pull across him that sent her effectually away from Walter. She sank into the Colonel's seat, and burst out crying with shame, pain, and fright.

"Brute!" said the Colonel. But the thing was not to end there. Hope strode in amongst them, with a pale cheek and a lowering brow as black as thunder; his first words were, "Do YOU CALL YOURSELF A FATHER?" Not one of them had ever seen Hope like that, and they all stood amazed, and wondered what would come next.

CHAPTER XVI.

REMINISCENCES.--THE FALSE ACCUSER.--THE SECRET EXPLODED.

The secret hung on a thread. Hope, after denouncing Bartley, as we have described, was rushing across to Mary, and what he would have said or done in the first impulse of his wrath, who can tell?

But the quick-witted Bartley took the alarm, and literally collared him.

"My good friend," said he, "you don't know the provocation. It is the affront to her that has made me forget myself. Affronts to myself from the same quarter I have borne with patience. But now this insolent man has forbidden his son to court her, and that to her face; as if we wanted his son or him. Haven't I forbidden the connection?"

"We are agreed for once," said the Colonel, and carried his son off bodily, sore against his will.

"Yes," shrieked Bartley after him; "only _I_ did it like a gentleman, and did not insult the young man to his face for loving my daughter."

"Let me hear what Mary says," was Hope's reply.

"Mr. Hope," said Mary, "did you ever know papa to be hard on me before?

He is vexed because he feels I am lowered. We have both been grossly insulted, and he may well be in a pa.s.sion. But I am very unhappy." And she began to cry again.

"My poor child," said Bartley, coaxingly, "talk it all over with Mr.

Hope. He may be able to comfort you, and, indeed, to advise me. For what can I do when the man calls me a sharper, a villain, and a knave, before his son and my daughter?"

"Is it possible?" said Hope, beginning to relent a little.

"It is true," replied Mary.

Bartley then drew Hope aside, and said, "See what confidence I place in you. Now show me my trust is not misplaced." Then he left them together.