The Master of the Ceremonies Part 73

"By all means," said the lady mockingly; "but not in my presence, please."

"Don't talk twaddle," exclaimed Rockley, as they pa.s.sed out of the drawing-room window and across the lawn.

It so happened that Cora Dean had been dancing with a handsome young resident of the place, and, after the dance, he had begged her to take a stroll with him out in the grounds.

"No, no," she said, amused by the impression made upon his susceptible nature; "that means taking cold."

"I a.s.sure you, no," he exclaimed rather thickly. "It's warm and delightful outside. Just one walk round."

She was about to decline, when she caught Richard Linnell's eyes fixed upon her and her companion, and, urged by a feeling of coquetry, and a desire to try and move him to speak to her, if it were only to reproach, she took the offered arm, and, throwing a lace scarf over her head, allowed her partner to lead where he would, and that was naturally down one of the darkest gra.s.s alleys of the grounds.

"Do you know, Miss Dean," he began thickly, "I never saw a girl in all my life who--"

"Can we see the sea from the grounds here?" said Cora.

"Yes; lovely view," he said. "Down here;" and he led her farther from the house. "There, you can see the sea from here, but who would wish to see the sea when he could gaze into the lovely eyes of the most--"

"Is not that an arbour?" said Cora, as they stood now in one of the darkest parts of the garden.

"Yes. Let's sit down and have a talk, and--"

"Will you lead the way?" said Cora.

"Yes; give me your hand--eh--why--what dooce! She's given me the slip.

Oh, 'pon my soul, I'll pay her for that."

He started back towards the house, pa.s.sing close by Cora, who had merely stepped behind a laurustinus, and who now went in the other direction, along a gra.s.s path at the back of the lawn.

Her white satin slippers made not the slightest sound, and she was about to walk straight across the lawn and out into the light, when a low, deep murmur reached her ear, and she recognised the voice.

"Major Rockley," she said to herself. "Who is he with?"

Her jealous heart at once whispered "Claire!"

"If I could but bring Richard face to face with them now!" she thought, "he would turn to me after all."

She hesitated, for the thought of the act being dishonourable struck her; but in her mental state, and with her defective education, she was not disposed to yield to fine notions of social honour; and, with her heart beating fast, she hurried softly along the gra.s.s, to find herself well within hearing of the speakers.

The words she heard were not those of love, for they were uttered more in anger. It was at times quite a quarrel changing to the tone of ordinary conversation.

Cora glanced behind her, to see the brightly lit-up house and hear the strains of music and the sounds of laughter and lively remark, while, by contrast with the glow in that direction, the bushes amid which she stood and into which she peered seemed to be the more obscure.

There was a pause, and then a woman's voice said quickly:

"No, no; I cannot. You must not ask me, indeed."

A curious feeling of disappointment came over Cora, for her plan was crushed on the instant. What were other people's love affairs to her?

She was turning away with disgust, when the deep voice of the Major said quickly, and in a menacing way which rooted the listener to the spot:

"But I say you shall. One word from me, and you might have to leave Saltinville for good. I mean for your own good."

"Oh, Rockley!"

"I don't care; you make me mad. Here have I done you endless little services, helped you to live in the style you do; and the first little favour I ask of you, I am met with a flat refusal."

"I don't like to refuse you, but the girl is--"

"Well, you know what the girl is. Hang it all, Pont, should I ask you if it were not as I say--unless it were that rich heiress I am to carry off some day."

"And the sooner the better."

"Yes, yes; but time's going. It's now eleven, and I must strike while the iron's hot."

"But, Rockley--"

"More opposition? What the devil do you mean?"

"I don't like to be mixed up with such an affair."

"You will not be mixed up with it. No one will know but our two selves."

"My conscience goes against such a trap."

"Your conscience!" he hissed angrily.

"Well, and do you suppose I have none? The girl is too good. I like her. It is a shame, Rockley."

Cora Dean's heart beat as if it would suffocate her, while her mouth felt dry and her hands moist. She could hardly have moved to save her life. She knew what it was, she felt sure. It was a plot against Claire, and if it were--

Cora Dean did not finish her thought, but listened as Rockley spoke again.

Volume Two, Chapter XXIV.

TOO LATE.

"How long has the fair Pontardent taken to the nursing up of scruples?"

"Do you suppose a woman is all evil?" was the retort. "You men make us bad enough, but you cannot kill all the good. I say it is a shame."

"A shame!" said Rockley derisively. "Ha, ha, ha! What a woman you are!

You don't know what has taken place. I tell you this; she is mine.

All she wants is the excuse and opportunity that she finds to-night with me. The old man watches her like a hawk."

"Is this really so, Rockley?"

"On my honour. I should not have done what I have if she were not willing. I've a chaise and four waiting outside the lower gate behind here."