The Vagrant Duke Part 51

"So this is where you live? I seem to have spoiled your party. And may I ask who----" and her eyes traveled scornfully over Beth's figure, beginning at her shoes and ending at her flushed face--"I think I've seen you before----"

"Miss McGuire," said Peter quietly, "This is Miss Cameron----"

"Oh, yes--the kitchen maid."

"Miss Beth Cameron," insisted Peter frigidly, "who has just done me the honor of promising to marry me."

"Oh! I see----"

Beth stared from one to the other, aware of the meaning of the visitor's manner and of Peter's reply.

"That is not true," she said very quietly, her deep voice vibrant with emotion. "I come here often. Mr. Nichols is teaching me music. I am very proud of his friendship. But I did not promise to marry him."

Peggy McGuire turned on her heel.

"Well, it's almost time you did," she said insultingly.

Peter, now pale and cold with fury, reached the door before her and stood blocking the pa.s.sageway. "Miss McGuire, I'll trouble you to be more careful in addressing my guests," he said icily.

"Let me pa.s.s----"

"In a moment."

"You'd dare----?"

"I would like you to understand that this cabin is mine--while I am in Black Rock. Any guest here comes at my invitation and honors me by accepting my hospitality. But I reserve the privilege of saying who shall come and who shall not. I hope I make myself clear----" And Peter bowed low and then moved aside, indicating the door. "Good-night," he finished.

Miss Peggy McGuire glared at him, red as a young turkey c.o.c.k, her finishing school training just saving her from a tirade. "Oh, you! We'll see about this----" and dashed past him out of the door and disappeared into the darkness.

Peter followed her with his angry gaze, struggling for his self-control, and at last turned into the room toward Beth, who now stood a smiling image turned into stone.

"Why did you deny what I said, Beth?" he pleaded.

"It wasn't the truth. I never promised to marry you. You never asked me to."

"I _would_ have asked you. I ask you now. I _was_ asking you when that little fool came in----"

"Maybe you were. Maybe you weren't. Maybe I'm a little hard of hearin'.

But I'm not goin' to make _that_ an excuse for my bein' here----"

"I don't understand----"

"It's just that I came here because I wanted to come and because you wanted me. People have been talkin'. Let them talk. Let _her_ talk----"

"She will. You can be pretty sure of that."

Peter was pacing up and down the room, his hands behind him. "If she'd been a man----" he was muttering. "If she'd only been a man."

Beth watched him a moment, still smiling.

"Oh, I got what she meant--she was just tryin' to insult me."

She laughed. "Seems as if she'd kind of succeeded. I suppose I ought to have scratched her face for her. I think I would have--if she'd just stayed a minute longer. Funny too, because I always used to think she was so sweet."

Peter threw his arms wildly into the air and exploded.

"Sweet! Sweet! _That_ girl! Yes, if vinegar is. She'll tear your reputation to shreds."

Beth had stopped smiling now and leaned against the wall, her chin lowered.

"I reckon it serves me right. I hadn't any business to be comin'

here--not at night, anyway."

"Oh, Beth," he pleaded, catching her hands. "Why couldn't you have let things be?"

She struggled a little. And then, "Let _her_ think I was _engaged_ to you when I wasn't?" she gasped.

"But we are, Beth, dear. Say we are, won't you?"

"Not when we're not."

"Beth----!"

"You should have spoken sooner, if you'd really meant it. Oh, I know what it is. I've always known there's a difference between us."

"No--not unless you make it."

"Yes. It was there before I was born. You were brought up in a different kind of life in a different way of thinkin' from mine----"

"What has that got to do with it?"

"Everything. It's not my fault. And maybe I'm a little too proud. But I'm straight----"

"Don't, Beth----" He put his arm around her but she disengaged herself gently.

"No, let me finish. Maybe you wanted me. I guess you did. But not that much--not enough to speak out--and you were too straight to lie to me.

I'm thankful for that----"

"But I _have_ spoken, Beth," he insisted, taking her by the elbows and holding her so that he could look into her eyes. "I've asked you to--to be my wife. I ask you now. Is that clear?"

Her eyes evaded him and she laughed uneasily.

"Yes, it's clear--and--and your reason for it----"

"I love you----"

"A little, maybe. But I'll marry no man just to save my face--and his."