Trevlyn Hold Part 87

The young man went his way, and George entered the room. Mr. Chattaway was seated at his desk; an open letter before him, as Ford had said. It was one that had been delivered by that morning's post, and it had brought the sweat of dismay upon his brow. He looked at George angrily.

"Who's this again? Am I never to be at peace? What do you want?"

"Mr. Chattaway, I want an answer. If you will not let me the Upland Farm----"

"I will give you no answer this morning. I am otherwise occupied, and cannot be bothered with business."

"Will you give me an answer--at all?"

"Yes, to-morrow. Come then."

George saw that something had indeed put Mr. Chattaway out; he appeared incapable of business, as Ford had intimated, and it would be policy, perhaps, to let the matter rest until to-morrow. But a resolution came into George's mind to do at once what he had sometimes thought of doing--make a friend, if possible, of Miss Diana Trevlyn. He went about the house until he found her, for he was almost as much at home there as poor Rupert had been. Miss Diana happened to be alone in the breakfast-room, looking over what appeared to be bills, but she laid them aside at his entrance, and--it was a most unusual thing--condescended to ask after the health of her sister, Mrs. Ryle.

"Miss Diana, I want you to be my friend," he said, in the winning manner that made George Ryle liked by everyone, as he drew a chair near to her.

"Will you whisper a word for me into Mr. Chattaway's ear?"

"About the Upland Farm?"

"Yes. I cannot get an answer from him. He has promised me one to-morrow morning, but I do not rely upon it. I must be at some certainty. I have my eye on another farm if I cannot get Mr. Chattaway's; but it is at some distance, and I shall not like it half as well. Whilst he keeps me shilly-shallying over this one, I may lose both. There's an old proverb, you know, about two stools."

"Was that a joke the other day, the hint you gave about marrying?"

inquired Miss Diana.

"It was sober earnest. If I can get the Upland Farm, I shall, I hope, take my wife home to it almost as soon as I am installed there myself."

"Is she a good manager, a practical woman?"

George smiled. "No. She is a lady."

"I thought so," was the remark of Miss Diana, delivered in very knowing tones. "I can tell you and your wife, George, that it will be uphill work for both of you."

"For a time; I know that. But, Miss Diana, ease, when it comes, will be all the more enjoyable for having been worked for. I often think the prosperity of those who have honestly earned it must be far sweeter than the monotonous abundance of those who are born rich."

"True. The worst is, that sometimes the best years of life are over before prosperity comes."

"But those years have had their pleasure, in working on for it. I question whether actual prosperity ever brings the pleasure we enjoy in antic.i.p.ation. If we had no end to work for, we should not be happy. Will you say a word for me, Miss Diana?"

"First of all, tell me the name of the lady. I suppose you have no objection--you may trust me."

George's lips parted with a smile, and a faint flush stole over his features. "I shall have to tell you before I win her, if only to obtain your consent to taking her from the Hold."

"_My_ consent! I have nothing to do with it. You must get that from Mr.

and Madam Chattaway."

"If I have yours, I am not sure that I should care to ask--his."

"Of whom do you speak?" she rejoined, looking puzzled.

"Of Maude Trevlyn."

Miss Diana rose from her chair, and stared at him in astonishment.

"Maude Trevlyn!" she repeated. "Since when have you thought of Maude Trevlyn?"

"Since I thought of any one--thought at all, I was going to say. I loved Maude--yes, _loved_ her, Miss Diana--when she was only a child."

"And you have not thought of anyone else?"

"Never. I have loved Maude, and I have been content to wait for her. But that I was so trammelled with the farm at home, keeping it for Mrs. Ryle and Treve, I might have spoken before."

Maude Trevlyn was evidently not the lady upon whom Miss Diana's suspicions had fallen, and she seemed unable to recover from her surprise or realise the fact. "Have you never given cause to another to--to--suspect any admiration on your part?" she resumed, breaking the silence.

"Believe me, I never have. On the contrary," glancing at Miss Diana with peculiar significance for a moment, his tone most impressive, "I have cautiously abstained from doing so."

"Ah, I see." And Miss Trevlyn's tone was not less significant than his.

"Will you give her to me?" he pleaded, in his softest and most persuasive voice.

"I don't know, George, there may be trouble over this."

"Do you mean with Mr. Chattaway?"

"I mean----No matter what I mean. I think there will be trouble over it."

"There need be none if you will sanction it. But that you might misconstrue me, I would urge you to give her to me for Maude's own sake.

This escapade of poor Rupert's has rendered Mr. Chattaway's roof an undesirable one for her."

"Maude is a Trevlyn, and must marry a gentleman," spoke Miss Diana.

"I am one," said George quietly. "Forgive me if I remind you that my ancestors are equal to those of the Trevlyns. In the days gone by----"

"You need not enter upon it," was the interruption. "I do not forget it.

But gentle descent is not all that is necessary. Maude will have money, and it is only right that she should marry one who possesses it in an equal degree."

"Maude will not have a shilling," cried George, impulsively.

"Indeed! Who told you so?"

George laughed. "It is what I have always supposed. Where is her money to come from?"

"She will have a great deal of money," persisted Miss Diana. "The half of my fortune, at least, will be Maude's. The other half I intended for Rupert. Did you suppose the last of the Trevlyns, Maude and Rupert, would be turned penniless into the world?"

So! It had been Miss Diana's purpose to bequeath them money! Yes; loving power though she did; acquiescing in the act of usurping Trevlyn Hold as she had, she intended to make it up in some degree to the children.

Human nature is full of contradictions. "Has Maude learnt to care for you?" she suddenly asked. "You hesitate!"

"If I hesitate it is not because I have no answer to give, but whether it would be quite fair to Maude to give it. The truth may be best, however; she _has_ learnt to care for me. Perhaps you will answer me a question--have you any objection to me personally?"

"George Ryle, had I objected to you personally, I should have ordered you out of the room the instant you mentioned Maude's name. Were your position a better one, I would give you Maude to-morrow--so far as my giving could avail. But to enter the Upland Farm upon borrowed money?--no; I do not think that will do for Maude Trevlyn."