The Master of the Ceremonies Part 70

A WALK AND A DRIVE.

Richard Linnell found a good deal of relief in his restless state of mind in taking long country walks, telling himself that he got away from his thoughts; but, on the contrary, he thought the more, and enjoyed his misery as some young men do whose love affairs go crooked.

He was about nine miles away from Saltinville on the day of Mrs Pontardent's party, and rapidly increasing the distance, when he suddenly became aware of the sound of wheels behind in the road, and looking round as he gave place to the driver, he found that Cora Dean was checking her ponies.

"Confound her! she has followed me," he said to himself, as she drew up by his side, quite alone, for the little seat generally occupied by the boy-groom was turned over and closed.

"This is unexpected, Mr Linnell," she said, holding out her gloved hand. "I thought you were at home."

"I felt sure you were," he said, smiling.

"Why?"

The question was accompanied by a half resentful, half tender look, the first intended, the latter not.

"I expected that you would be busy with hair-dressers and dressmakers, preparing for to-night's battle."

"To-night's battle?"

"Yes," he said, in a bantering, reckless way that was new to him, "the battle with the beaux whom you are going to slay."

He felt as if he could have bitten his tongue off the next moment, as he saw the look of pain she gave him.

"What have I done?" she said in a soft, low, half-pa.s.sionate tone.

"Done! What do you mean?"

"Why do you take pleasure in laughing at me and mocking me?"

"Oh, nonsense!" he cried. "I was only speaking lightly."

"Why should you speak lightly to me?" she said. "We have lived in the same house now for over a year, and, instead of being neighbours and friends, there always seems to be a great gap between us."

"Why, what a sentimental view you take of things," he said. "We shake hands when we meet. We smile at one another, and nod and chat."

"Yes," she said sadly, "we shake hands, we smile at each other, we nod and chat, but--"

She stopped and seemed to try and command herself; and, to his great relief, she spoke lightly as she said:

"I shall see you to-night, of course?"

"No; I thought you were going to a party."

"Yes, but you will be there?"

"No," he said gravely; "I am not going."

"Not going!" she cried. "Why, you were asked."

"How do you know?"

She turned crimson, and avoided his searching look.

"Did Mrs Pontardent tell you?"

"Yes, and you will go?"

"No," he said; "I declined. Why was I asked--do you know?"

She darted an appealing look at him; and the haughty, self-a.s.sertive woman seemed to be completely changed.

"Don't--don't be angry with me," she said. "I--I thought it would be so pleasant if you were going to be there."

"You never asked that woman to invite me, Miss Dean?"

She did not speak, but her face began to work, her hands dropped in her lap, her head drooped upon her chest, and she wept bitterly.

"Oh, Miss Dean, for heaven's sake don't do that," he said. "I hate to see a woman cry. I can't bear it. Pray forgive me if I spoke harshly.

I could not help feeling annoyed that you should have done this."

"You ought to be grateful," she cried pa.s.sionately. "The woman you love so dearly will be there with gay Major Rockley--oh, Mr Linnell-- Richard--for heaven's sake forgive me. What have I said--what have I done?"

In her alarm at the start he gave, and at his ghastly face, she let fall the reins and caught at his arm, when the ponies, feeling their heads free, dashed off; but this brought Linnell back to the present, and with one bound he reached the rein, hung on to it, and was dragged along for a few yards, turning the ponies' heads towards a steep bank by the side of the narrow unfrequented road. The result would have been that he would have been crushed between the chaise and the bank, but for Cora's presence of mind in seizing the other rein and dragging at it with all her might.

As it was, he received a violent kick which turned him sick and faint, and when he came to, the ponies' reins were secured to a tree in the hedge, and he was lying upon the gra.s.s, with Cora's arm supporting his head, and her frightened face bending over him.

"What is it?" he cried sharply. "Are you hurt?"

"No," she said softly. "Don't move. How brave you are!"

He looked at her wonderingly, and then flushing once more, he recalled the whole scene, and what led to it.

"I was afraid you were hurt," he said, trying to rise; but the giddy feeling came back, and he sank down again.

"You are hurt," she cried. "What shall I do? Richard--dear Richard!

He's dying. Oh, my love--my love!"

"Hush!" he cried huskily, as she was raising his head in her arms; "for G.o.d's sake don't speak to me like that. There--there--you see I am better. The pony kicked me. It made my head swim. There," he cried, rising to his knees, "you see it is all right. I quite frightened you."

He stood up now and offered her his hand to rise; but she did not take it, for she covered her face with her hands and crouched lower and lower on her knees, sobbing wildly in a pa.s.sion of grief, for his words had been as cold and distant as if they had been strangers.

"Miss Dean--Miss Dean--pray let me help you to your carriage," he said; but she shrank from him.

"Don't touch me!" she cried bitterly; "you made me love you--you made me disgrace myself like this, and now I am to be your laughing-stock and scorn." She looked up at him with her eyes full of rage, which died out on the instant as she cried to him wildly, "I wish you had let me drown!"

He stood looking at her for a few moments, and then glanced along the winding lane; but they were quite alone. Then, taking her hand, he made her rise, for she submitted to his will without a trace of resistance.

"I am very sorry," he said at last simply.