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"Why then, 'tis an ugly thing, your love!"
"'Tis very real, Betty, I live but to win you and--win you I shall."
"You are vastly confident, sir."
"Truly," he smiled, "'tis so my nature. And I am determined to possess you--soon or late, Betty."
"Even against my will?" she questioned.
"Aye, against your will!" he murmured.
"Even supposing that I--despised you?"
"'Twould but make you the more adorable, Betty."
"Even though you knew I--loved another man?"
"'Twould make you the more desirable, Betty."
At this she turned and looked at him and, under that look, Mr. Dalroyd actually lowered his eyes; but his laugh was light enough none the less.
"Betty," he continued softly, "I would peril my immortal soul to possess you and, despite all your haughty airs and graces--win you I will----"
"Enough, sir!" she retorted, "Am I so weak of will, think you, to wed where I so utterly--despise?" And, viewing him from head to foot with her calm gaze, she laughed and turned from him as from one of no account. For one breathless moment Mr. Dalroyd stood utterly still then, stung beyond endurance, his modish languor swept away on a torrent of furious anger, he came close beside her and stood striving for speech; and she, leaning gracefully at the open cas.e.m.e.nt, hummed the lines of a song to herself very prettily, heeding him not at all.
"Madam!" said he, thickly, "By G.o.d, madam, none hath ever scorned me with impunity--or ever shall! Hark'ee madam----"
My lady gazed pensive upon the sunny garden and went on humming.
"Ha, by heaven!" he exclaimed, "I swear you shall humble yourself yet--you shall come to me, one o' these days soon and leave your pride behind. D'ye hear madam, d'ye hear my will shall be your law yet----"
Now at this she turned and laughed full-throated and ever as she laughed she mocked him:
"Indeed, sir, and indeed? Shall I run humbly to your call? Must I creep to you on lowly knees----"
"Aye--by G.o.d, you shall!" he cried, his pa.s.sion shaking him.
"And must I plead and beg and sue, must I weep and sigh and moan and groan? And to you--you, of all trifling things? I wonder why?"
"For your brother's sake!" he answered between white teeth, stung at last out of all restraint.
"My brother--my Charles? What can you know of him--you?"
"Enough to hang him!"
Once again her laughter rang out, a joyous, rippling peal:
"O Mr. Dalroyd!" she cried at last, dabbing at her bright eyes with dainty handkerchief, "O, indeed, sir, here is trifling more to my mind--nay, prithee loose my hand!"
Mr. Dalroyd obeyed and stepped back rather hastily as the door opened and the footman announced:
"Major d'Arcy!"
The Major advanced a couple of strides then halted, fumbled with his laced hat and looked extremely uncomfortable; next moment my lady was greeting him gaily:
"Welcome, dear Major! You know Mr. Dalroyd, I think--so gay, so witty!
Just now he is at his very gayest and wittiest, he is about telling me something extreme diverting in regard to my brother, my dear, wilful Charles--but you have never met my brother, I think, Major d'Arcy?"
"Never, madam!" he answered, bowing over her hand and dropping it rather as if it had stung him.
"Why then, sir," she laughed, "Mr. Dalroyd shall tell you all about him. Pray proceed, Mr. Dalroyd."
But hereupon Mr. Dalroyd having acknowledged the Major's stiff bow, stood fingering the long curls of his peruke and, for once in his life, felt himself entirely at a loss; as for the Major, he stood in wondering amazement, staring at my lady's laughing face as if he had never seen it before in all his days.
"Come, sir, come!" she commanded, viewing Mr. Dalroyd's perplexity with eyes very bright and malicious, "Charles is for ever playing some naughty trick or other, tell us his latest."
"Faith, madam," said Mr. Dalroyd at last, "I, like Major d'Arcy, have never had the good fortune to meet your brother."
"But you have seen him and very lately, I think--yes, I'm sure you have--confess!"
"Nay indeed, my lady, how--where should I see him----"
"Why with me of course, sir, last night--in the arbour."
Mr. Dalroyd recoiled a slow step, his heavy eyelids fluttered and fell, then happening to glance at the Major, he saw his face suddenly transfigured with a radiant joy, beholding which, Mr. Dalroyd's delicate nostrils twitched again and his long white fingers writhed and clenched themselves; then he turned upon my lady, seemed about to burst into pa.s.sionate speech but bowed instead and strode from the room.
Left alone, the Major dropped his hat and my lady turning back to the cas.e.m.e.nt, leaned there and began to sing softly to herself, an old, merry song:
"A young cavalier he rode on his way Singing heigho, this loving is folly."
"Betty," said the Major humbly, "O Betty--forgive me!"
"And there met him a lady so frolic and gay Singing, heigho, all loving is folly."
"Betty, I--O my dear love--my lady," he stammered, "I know that my offence is great--very heinous. I have wronged you in thought and in word--I should have known you were the sweet soul G.o.d made you. But I--I am only a very ordinary man, very blind, very unworthy and, I fear but ill-suited to one so young--but indeed I do love you better than my life so may Love plead my forgiveness. But if I have sinned too grievously, if forgiveness is impossible then will I very humbly--
"So he lighted him down and he louted him low Singing heigho, be not melancholy, And he kissed her white hand and her red mouth also Singing heigho, love's quarrels are folly."
She stood waiting--waiting for the swift tread of feet behind her, for the masterful pa.s.sion of his clasping arms, for his pleading kisses; instead, she heard him sigh and limp heavily to the door. Then she turned to face him and, being disappointed, grew angry and disdainful.
"Major d'Arcy," she cried, "O Major d'Arcy--what a runaway coward you are!"
He paused and stood regarding her wistfully and lo! as he looked her mocking glance wavered and fell, her lip quivered and almost in that instant he had her in his arms; but now, even now, when she lay all soft and tremulous in his embrace, he must needs stay to humbly plead her forgiveness, and then--Sir Benjamin Tripp's voice was heard in the hall beyond:
"Od's body, I do protest Dalroyd can be almost offensive at times!"